#if i had left my best friend for 70 years i would go and fucking hug them like fuck that guy who was he
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ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD
✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙
Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.
I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.
Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.
Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.
Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.
I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).
That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.
Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.
Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.
I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.
Apreciation
@ewanmitchellcrumbs
Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.
On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.
I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!
@targaryenrealnessdarling
Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!
@persephonerinyes
You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!
@zenka96
You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.
@huramuna
I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.
@black-dread & @aegonx
You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!
@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose
Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!
lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit
And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!
Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!
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☇ POLAROID — S.H.
— pairing ；Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
— summary ；Steve's still trying to get used to the whole dating thing, but the fact that one of the only girls who genuinely caught his eye seemingly despises him, doesn't really help.
— warnings ；Kind of angsty?, But with a fluffy ending, Swearing, Post-Season 3, Young Steve being a dick.
— A/N ；Going back to my roots and writing for this goofball <3. Thank you all so much for your love on my Eddie fic! I'm hoping to write more of him and Steve! ♡ (Also not proof read since it's about 0:45 rn, so that will have to wait til morning!)
— word count ；3,4k.
"Whatcha staring at?"
Steve screamed as Robin's face appeared next to him, dropping the book he was holding and taking a few steps back, his hand resting over his banging heart as he tried to calm down.
"For fucks sake, Robin! Don't scare me like that!"
He snapped, pushing her face away with his book and going back to staring, although not at the work in his hands.
His brown gaze was focused on you as you walked around the store, browsing through the sections and picking up movies, staring at them and then putting them back, finally stopping at the horror section and reached for Tourist Trap, some 70s movie Steve had briefly hear Keith mention while restocking.
"That's Y/N."
Steve finally broke his stare away from you, turning to look at Robin as she copied his stance, resting her chin on her palms as she watched you pull a face at the description of the movie.
"She was my lab partner for a few years, almost blew the whole school to the ground if it weren't for her."
Robin chuckled at the fond memory, switching her gaze to Steve and instantly recognizing those unmistakable heart eyes of his, scoffing as she turned away.
"God, not her, please. She's like, way out of your league, plus, the only cool person I know."
Robin muttered beneath her breath, Steve furrowing his brows and turning to glare at his friend, both offended and hurt by her words.
"What about me? I'm cool!"
"Hardly."
Steve clicked his tongue, turning back around to find you walking over to him, his palms growing sweaty and his heart speeding up, hissing a warning to Robin as if she genuinely cared that you were approaching.
"She's coming, fuck, she's coming-"
Steve did his best to try and seem cool, leaning on his arm but accidentally knocking off a stack VHSs that Robin had placed there, making her click her tongue and letting out a noise of complaint.
Instead of looking cool or smooth, the only thing you saw was Steve Harrington, the late King of Hawkins High, trying (and failing miserably) to pick up the fallen movies and place them back in order before posing awkwardly.
He flashed his award winning smile, hoping that that would distract you from the embarrassment he had just gone through.
"Morning!"
He said cheerfully, leaning his whole body onto the arm he had placed on the counter, feeling his smile slightly falter as you silently placed the movies in front of him without a single word, only a quick nod he would've surely missed if he weren't looking at you so intently.
Steve went through the movies as he mentally punched himself for being so awkward, stopping as he picked one out, the VHS sticking out like a sore thumb compared to all the others.
"Raiders of the Lost Ark, huh? Good choice."
"You haven't watched it, Steve."
"Robin! " He hissed as soon as the words left her mouth, clearing his throat and turning back to you in hoped of smoothing things over. "I- I mean, I started to watch it with my dad, but I fell asleep."
He tried to lighten the mood with a bright smile, which you ignored, of course, snatching the tapes from him as soon as he was done with them and shoving them into your bag, the harsh gesture making Steve flinch.
"Thanks. Bye, Robin."
"Bye, Y/N."
The door to the store made a 'ding!' sound as it closed, announcing your departure and making Steve sigh, leaning back on the counter once he turned around to face Robin, an awkward look on his face.
"How come you get a goodbye?"
"I've known her for a long time. And, she doesn't hate me."
Steve whirled around to stare at her in shock, the word 'hate' reverberating throughout his mind as he took it in.
Hate ? She hated him?
He could only catch a glimpse of your jeans as you walked away from the corner of his eye, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at the ground.
What had he done for you to hate him? It was the first time he had spoken to you! Had you heard the rumours from back when he was 'King'? Were those the ones that caused you to hate him?
"You really don't remember, do you?"
Steve looked up at Robin, who's normally cocky look was exchanged for one of pity, raising her finger to lick it before passing a page in her book.
"Remember what?" He said, a bit harsher than he meant for it to come out, but still, he couldn't really find the answer as to why someone who he had just met, could hate him so easily.
"The Snow Ball?"
Steve only looked even more confused, making Robin sigh in exasperation.
"Fuck, Harrington, how am I supposed to help if you're just going to act like a complete and utter idiot!?" Robin snapped, putting down her book and leaving to the back, where she wouldn't be so affected by his dumbassery.
"Wh-What? What did I do-"
-
The Snow Ball...
Steve couldn't remember much of that night, it was just some stupid memory in the back of his head from years ago, but it was almost like a fresh wound for you.
You could clearly remember his cute little smile as he fixed his hair with his hands nervously, biting the inside of his cheek as he sat in a corner patiently, waiting for anyone to just come talk to him.
It was quite sad at first, it was clear he had gotten his father to do his hair for him, since it was the first time anyone had seen it in such a state, loads of hairspray and gel clearly having gone into it.
His hands where everywhere but at his sides, playing with his tie or looking at his watch as if he hadn't just checked it moments ago.
You just had to do something, you couldn't let him simply sit there alone, waiting patiently for something that clearly wasn't coming.
"Steve? Do you want to dance?"
His brown gaze looked up at you, your hair done in some cheesy 70s hairdo and braces framing your smile, your hand outstretched to him.
Steve wasn't going to complain, hell, he wasn't in the best era of his life either, recalling how he had spent hours before the dance scrubbing his face clean of spots.
"Y-Yeah, I'd really like that."
He beamed, taking your hand and lifting himself up, quickly joining you on the dance floor and shakily putting his hands on your waist, gulping as you put your own on his shoulders, some ABBA song playing in the background.
You remembered the way he brightly smiled as he took you to the photo booth, looking at the Polaroids in disdain once they were handed to you both, the flash and the lighting doing no wonders for either of you.
Yet you smiled it off, drawing some silly moustache over him on his picture as he drew a few things of his own on yours, adding a little red heart on the back of it that he hoped you wouldn't see until you were back home.
It had been perfect.
Or so you thought.
Your dad had picked you up quite early from the ball, waving you over from the doors as you finished your last dance with Steve, ending the night with a quick peck on his cheek before rushing away in a blur of red cheeks and a blue dress.
As you fell asleep that night, you had the crazy idea, that maybe, just maybe, he'd become your boyfriend.
You were 12, you were allowed to giggle and dream of the boy that you had spent the best night of your life with.
But apparently, the feelings weren't returned.
It seemed that during a small school break due to some gas leak, Steve had dumped his old friends to hang out with the popular people he had met at the ball after you had left.
You had returned to your education with a bright smile and high hopes, but you were met with a look of disgust from his friends and a short chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from you as if he were embarrassed of what had gone down the night of the dance.
The new friends he had made were just absolutely horrible. Tommy was known for putting chewing gum in girls' hair, Carol for bullying girls who didn't fit in with her beauty standards, most of the others just being plain horrid to everyone else.
And if that wasn't worse, he had twisted the story of that night, claiming that he had felt bad for you, even though you were weird and had braces and were definitely not his type, and had invited you to dance out of pity.
That didn't go well with Carol's natural gossipy nature, instantly spreading the story until it got twisted and the whole school believed you were some kind of bitch that had somehow forced him to dance with you.
And of course, he got off scott-free, while you had to endure two full years of bullying until some other drama got their attention.
Still, it had ruined almost two years of your life, and Carol still gave you dirty looks every time you passed her at school, so no wonder you developed a deep grudge towards the boy with the perfectly styled hair, that not only festered over time, but ended with you actually admitting to someone that you hated him, and as fate would have it, that person would end up being his best friend years later.
Said person was also stabbing you with a pen at a pep rally, clearly trying to get your attention as you did your best to concentrate on the basketball players.
"What, Robin, what?"
"Steve doesn't remember the Snow Ball."
Those words hurt like actual daggers would, the thought that the boy that had technically ruined quite a big part of your life didn't even remember doing it... Genuinely fucking hurt.
That's how you ended up once again in home video, a small plastic bag with the tapes you had rewinded just that morning and two Polaroids in your hand.
"Where's Steve?"
The guy behind the counter looked at you with a bewildered expression, holding a bag of chips in his hand as a movie played in the small boxy TV that stood on the counter.
"Not here."
"When does his shift start?"
"Dunno."
Your growled, slamming your hands on the countertop and glaring into his eyes.
"Listen, 'Keith', you're going to tell me when Steve Harrington comes in, or I will sit in here for hours on end waiting for him, telling you every single thought that pops into mind, oh, and I can assure you. I am annoying as fuck."
The manager stayed silent, his hand midway into the chips packet as he stared behind you, nodding slowly at whoever was standing there.
"Right there."
You whirled around with an angered glare, making eye contact with Steve's pretty brown eyes, his look of confusion almost comparable to that one of a puppy, but that wasn't the time for that.
"Uh, that- that's me?"
He pointed at himself, cocking his head to a side as he spied the plastic bag and the two pictures, about to question what you actually were doing there and why you were screaming about him, but you interrupted him as you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a corner of a store.
"Shit, take me out on a date fir-"
"Shut up."
You shoved the Polaroid into his face, your angered expression never leaving as he leaned his head back to try and see it properly, his brows furrowed before he recognised the face that was staring back at him.
"Woahoho! How'd you get this? Shit, I forgot all about it!"
He chuckled, focusing on himself as he cringed at the way his hair was styled back then, not realising that if anyone else was asked to tell the difference, they probably wouldn't be able to.
Your finger suddenly pointed at the person next to him, with the blue dress and the stupid updo, frowning for a moment before it all clicked, recognising the girl as you.
"Ohhhh fuuuck-"
"Yeah."
He looked up at you with a face that was contorted in a mixture of guilt and sadness, his free hand coming up to slap against his face as he groaned.
"L/N."
"Yeah."
That was seemingly the only answer your brain could come up with, your fingers involuntarily playing with the hem of your shirt as you watched the recognition wave over him.
"Fuck, I- fuck, I didn't recognise you! Your hair it's - and your style! You- your braces! You got rid of your braces!"
"5 years ago."
You said with an unamused look, making him hiss uncomfortably and look away, nodding his head as his hand rubbed the back of his neck, a clear sign of his nervousness.
"Fuck, I... I was a dick, wasn't I?"
He mumbled, slowly starting to remember all the things that had happened subsequent to the ball. The Polaroid was flipped around, his heart skipping a beat as he recognised the messy looking heart in red Sharpie, recalling how nervous he had been as he shakily drew it on the back.
"Yeah, you were. An absolute dick."
He nodded, knowing now that your hate towards him was valid.
"Shit, look, I'm not trying to make excuses-"
"I don't want your apology."
"I wasn't going to apologize! Shit, that sounded bad-"
He hit his forehead with his hand once again, groaning as a wave of guilt washed over him, the memories just not ceasing now that he had unlocked that part of his life.
"Look, I- I was one of those shitty kids that believed that if you messed with your crush, they'd like you back!"
"So your version of a grand love gesture was getting your crush bullied for two whole years?!"
You snapped back at him, making him shake his head, trying his best to explain himself but just digging himself into a deeper hole.
"No! Fuck, I- I was nervous when they asked me if I liked you, I wanted to say yes but then they started to slag you off! I don't know why I joined in, I guess I just wanted to be cool!"
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared down at the floor, your foot tapping on the floor angrily as you listened to his half-assed explanation.
"Yeah, well, you got that, didn't you? You didn't get the girl but you got your oh-so-important popularity!"
You raised your arms up in exasperation, letting him try to articulate one final answer but finally growing tired of his bullshit, snatching the Polaroids from him and shoving the plastic bag into his chest.
"Thanks for your time, Harrington."
You left him there with the bag full of tapes, his face staring at you longingly as you walked away, feeling his heart clench as all the now-painful memories of watching you get bullied flooded his mind, that stupid 'ding!' the door made finally snapping him out of it.
"Fuck, wait, wait!"
The bag was thrown across the store and probably into Keith's face, but in the spur of the moment, he couldn't care less.
"Y/N, wait!"
He reached you as you started to pull your car keys out, glaring at him with the same intensity that you had on the other day when he had met you for the 'first' time.
"I... Fuck, I'm really fucking sorry. I'm not like that anymore, I'm not like Tommy or any of those dicks! You think they'd be working at Family Video of all places?"
He cried out, pointing at the vest that displayed his little name tag, the corners of your lips lifting slightly at the thought of any other of those popular guys working at such a store.
"Look, I know there's no excuses for my actions, I made you suffer, I hurt you. I just want you to know, that if I could, I would go back and grab that stupid punk's ridiculous hair and shove him in a locker before he even had the thought of hurting you."
You felt your heart flutter at the thought that he had actually changed to repent his actions, even if he had still caused you enormous amounts of pain... It was... Nice, to know that he regretted it.
"So... I know a stupid apology can't change the past, but I hope it can change the future."
Steve outstretched his hand to you, gulping as he screamed at himself mentally, cursing himself out for being so cringy around you.
The last thing both of you were expecting was for you to actually take his hand, shaking it before pulling away and shoving it into your jacket's pocket.
"Just so you know, Harrington,"
The boy perked up, once again instantly comparable to a puppy finally getting attention, nodding as he tried to get you to continue.
"I don't really see the difference."
Your other hand came up to flick a strand of hair out of his eyes, letting him know you were referring to his perfectly styled hair, that in your eyes, looked exactly the same as that fateful night at the ball.
"Tsk, lies, you can! I use a different kind of hairspray, thank you very much. One that's easier to rinse out of my eyes."
He muttered the last bit underneath his breath, feeling his heart speed up at the sight of your lips forming into a smile, turning your head so he wouldn't be able to see it so clearly.
"Yeah, well ... I'll uh, see you later, Harrington. Thanks for the closure, I guess?"
You turned around to start to walk away, your hands fiddling with the Walkman that was attached to your jeans, but stopped in your tracks as Steve let out a weird sound, much like those a teenager going though puberty would.
"I uh- Harrison Ford is really hot -"
You raised an eyebrow at the sudden proclamation, crossing your arms over your chest as you spun around to face him once again.
"I'm aware of that."
"Would you like to watch that movie of him? The one you rented the other day?"
He was now nervously spewing bullshit, not knowing how to focus when you were right in front of him, his brain short-circuiting as he gazed into your beautiful eyes.
"Raiders of the Lost Ark?" You drawled out, making him clap his hands together and point at you, nodding energetically.
"Yeah, that one! Since I never got to finish it, I was maybe hoping- we could watch it together...?"
You considered his proposition, looking down at the ground for a moment as you thought it through. He did seem like he had actually changed, he wasn't that image of a bully you had made up in your mind all those years ago, he was back to being sweet innocent Steve. The Steve that had accepted your hand as you brought him to the dance floor, the Steve that had nervously placed his hands on your waist and constantly asked if that was okay, the Steve that had poured punch on someone for insulting your dress and had then spent the whole night complimenting it... The Steve your 12 year old self had fantasised about before seeing him again.
You gulped, looking back up and instantly recognizing the look on his face, that of a person that had been rejected way too many times to already know what was coming.
"We don't have to of course, it would be stupid consideri-"
"I'd love to."
You finally declared, smiling as his face instantly lit up at your confirmation, raising both his hands in a thumbs up, nodding furiously as his words came out as a mess.
"Yeah- okay! I mean, cool! Yeah, I'll uh- we'll talk later! I really don't want to be fired-"
With one last wave he hurried back into the store, the glass door slamming behind him and almost shattering it, making you chuckle.
-
Steve adjusted his hair in his car's rearview mirror one last time before clearing his throat and leaving the car, straightening out his jacket as he walked up the pavement, frowning in confusion as he recognised the steps that lead up to the house, looking down at the piece of paper that he had scribbled your address on as you told him on the phone, making sure he didn't get any numbers wrong.
Still confused as hell, he rung the doorbell, clenching his fists at his sides as he heard meowing from behind the door, and a few shouts before the door slammed open, his mouth falling agape as he instantly recognised the head of curls that stood in front of him.
"Dustin !?"
"Steve !?"
#Steve Harrington x reader#steve Harrington x y/n#steve Harrington x you#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things 4#steve Harrington imagine#steve Harrington oneshot#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things one shot#stranger things s4#[ 𓂅 lily's fics ♡ ]
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i maintain the reason they didnt even bother trying to write a scene where steve tells bucky is bc they knew it would make him look like an unredeemable piece of shit for going to play house leaving his heavily traumatized best friend a (who didn't value himself enough to ask steve to stay bc he felt he didnt deserve steve's friendship) alone with absolutely no one in his life, while he fucked off back to a time where said best friend was actively being brutally tortured and forced to kill for a nazi organization
steve rogers: i'm glad you and sam are back. overjoyed. that means my work here is done
bucky: ....what?
steve: well yah. I figured, hey. got some of those pym particles left over. may as well make a pit stop in 1948.... stay for oh, maybe 80 years..... then i'll come back and pass the shield onto sam.
bucky: you're leaving me alone in an unfamiliar world with practically no friends or kin when I just came back from the dead.... for a woman who had her own family and died of old age
steve: wow, I thought this would be harder to explain. but yah. you get it. I knew you would.
bucky: what are you going to do?
steve: sit back, relax. i've been running myself ragged, i deserve some rest right?
bucky: are you going to change anything?
steve: well I mean maybe, but it doesn't really go with the vibe. could save you from being tortured by hydra for 70 years, but it wouldn't be you. it would be an alternate version of you. but then again, built-in best friend!
bucky: what about the original steve in that timeline
steve: he's sleeping under ice in the arctic, pal! its perfect! i'll high tail it out of there when they find his body in 2012
bucky: are you going to help sam with the transition into being cap?
steve: what? no of course not. just going to give him the shield and fuck off. he'll know what to do
bucky: oh
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I've been feeling inclined to vent about the general concept of "substance use" and "dependency" recently for no particular reason, and it's probably just my own brain finally processing some of the things that happened to me in The Bad Times but what the hell lets go with it.
I was pretty much straight edge until my mid 20s, no alcohol, cigarettes, weed, nothing. Then I got into a series of abusive relationships, nearly died of Mystery Diseases, and a pandemic happened right after. My life went from barely getting by in the world to bouncing between constant crises overnight. I was in therapy and had been for years, I had self care tools and was using them. I was medicated for all of my diagnosed mental health needs (ADHD wasn't on the record yet, so was still unmanaged, but I was doing my best behaviorally to keep on top of shit, obviously that stopped working fast). I worked full time plus going to school part time plus working part time at my internship for a grand total of about 90 hrs per week of work/school related obligations. I lived with several other people who I worked to support financially and who I needed to also support emotionally, and I still managed to run my household for the most part with minimal support except from wifey who was also working about 60-70 hour weeks at her own job to help us make ends meet and was only barely medicated and managed herself. I genuinely don't know when I slept or rested.
The first thing I tried was weed. I used edibles to sleep without nightmares or the anxieties that would keep me up for the rare few hours I had to rest. It also helped with the constant pain I was in. I would get high as fuck on a weed brownie or a pre roll on the one day off I had each month so I didn't have to think or feel or exist because it was the only way I could find to genuinely relax anymore without worrying about the growing mountain of Life Responsibilities that I could never catch up on. Life eased a bit, and I kept doing that.
One day, I had a rare night off, and wifey was going to go out to a club with some friends. I hadn't been anywhere fun in years. I hadn't had time or money or energy. I was desperate to see people and relax and maybe sance a little. A pandemic was on, and the local clubs were having discounts like mad. We went and got shitfaced on cocktails that cost less than lunch at a diner for a round and I made out with a cute girl and I came home laughing for the first time in years. From then on, we would keep a cheap six pack of something in the fridge and every once in a while I would down 2-3 and get fucked up for a bit between that and the weed. Life felt a bit easier and I kept going.
But behind the scenes the cracks kept forming. It wasn't the substances that were causing them. And they weren't even what was making it worse. But they were letting me pretend those cracks weren't there. Letting me run from a reality I knew I couldn't fix. By the time I realized how bad things had gotten, how deep into the pit I was, I was living in a tent in the woods, cooking my dinners on a campfire with my family, throwing back weed and cheap booze like my life depended on it because god what the fuck else do you have when a creek and a rainstorm are the closest you get to a shower and your bed is a pile of blankets in a military surplus tent with all the warm bodies piled together so you don't fucking freeze at night?
I was still working full time though, and for those hours, I had to be sober. No if ands or buts about it. And I was okay with that line, even if it left me riddled with anxiety and trauma and stress 16 hours a day while I worked my doubles in the ER and came home to try and scrub the COVID off in the creek before I went back to the tent. And then a coworker asked me if I wanted to join her on a cigarette break. I did. I desperately wanted to feel normal. To chitchat and talk about nothing important, and feel the breeze on my face. So I bummed a cigarette and smoked with her. That one cigarette became 3 a day. Then 6. Then, a whole pack. A nervous habit of sucking on a cigarette or a vape whenever I needed to fidget or relax while still being sober. It's been 3 years now and I've tried to quit half a dozen times but here I am in my fucking home office pulling on a cigarette like it's my last hope of comfort.
I don't drink anymore though. My body won't let me. Blah blah allergic reactions blah blah. Fine. I kept trying for a while, allergies be damned. But it stopped being worth it. Sometimes the cigarettes aren't worth it either. I choke on every inhale and my body dry heaves like it knows I'm putting in something it doesn't want. On those days I don't smoke. I don't think there have been many days I've gone without weed. I honestly don't know what to do with myself on the days I abstain. Like I do? I can cope. I just. I'm still so tired.
The part of me that broke all those years ago and said fuck it, lets see what drugs do, is still recovering. It's still resting and healing. Some days are better than others. Some days it does fine and it says "lets fuckin rawdog the day my mans" and I do, and it's great. Other times it's so small and frail that I know if I tried I might break it again, and I just can't risk that.
I've been told before that this is dependency. Maybe even misuse. I've been told by others that this is the point. If it's helping, then let it. I don't know what the answer is. Some days I resent not being the person I was before I started using weed and cigarettes to get through the day. I've tried other things too, and they've never done much for me, so I never went back. Does that mean that I'm not "dependent" I'm "self-medicating"? Is that a good or a bad thing? Does it fucking matter? I honestly don't know. I wish it didn't feel like it mattered. I wish that I could go through my days and feel like I had more of a choice. I actually miss being able to get high lol. Like weed hasn't given me an actual high in years, it just. Helps me get through things a little better. But how much am I really willing to keep living that way? How much of my life do I *want* impacted by whether or not I can smoke or have some thc? Some days it's fine. Some days I'm bothered by it.
The thing that gets me every time though is how at every single point when I made the choice to pick up a new "substance" it was because I was desperate, overwhelmed, and completely without alternatives. I knew full goddamn well every time what I was doing. I had years of both anti-drug war knowledge and addiction/recovery knowledge in my brain and I understood that I was at my most vulnerable, I was my most at risk. That making this choice could be fine or could be life changing or could be somewhere in between and it was worth being self aware as I did it. But I just. I was so tired. I was so broken down. I just needed to rest. I needed to feel something other than the stress and fear for a while. And no one was offering me anything else that made a dent. Trust me. I tried.
I don't say this to suggest to people that Drugs Are The Answer. I genuinely don't think they are. I still wish every day I had never picked up that first cigarette. I still wish that I felt well enough to live my life without needing help to rest and recover. But I can't blame anyone who makes the choices I did. I can't doubt the feelings of need and desperation that often drive us to interact with our support tools the way we do. I've also found over the years, that it's not just "substances" that people will turn to for help with avoidance the way I did. Avoidance is so very very human, and the way I skirted around acknowledging how beyond my capacity for repair my life was getting (even while actively working to resolve those things) had more to do with mh inability to acknowledge that I was failing people I loved than what tool I was using to avoid the acknowledgement. It could just as easily have been my work, or video games, or shopping, or gardening, or anything else in the world that allowed me to isolate myself in a world that felt smaller and simpler for a while so I could take a break from problem solving the way the rest of my world was steadily crumbling around me. I chose weed, alcohol and nicotine. Other people will make other choices. But maybe we all sometimes run away from problems we realize we can't solve until one day we're backed into a corner we can't run from. Maybe that's just human. Maybe the drugs just made me feel less like shit while I ran. And maybe that's part of how I survived to make things right for myself.
I really don't know. I can't know.
What I do know is that I left the relationship that was destroying my life. I'm safe now, and wifey and I are doing much better now that our communication isn't being actively sabotaged. I'm doing much better now healthwise that the food in my home is consistently safe to eat for me and I'm not being left without any food at all on a semi-regular basis. I *am* still the primary breadwinner of the household, but it no longer feels as though I have to run the household itself on top of that, and I *am* consistently supported (encouraged even) to rest when needed, even if that is still hard for me to do. I've stopped drinking, and that does feel better. I spend less time and energy seeking substances and I *do* smoke fewer cigarettes less often even if I do still smoke sometimes. I feel happier and more stable than I think I ever have. My life is. Mostly working? And pretty good now. The cracks have been able to heal in ways that are, if not structurally sound, at least working up to it. I am fragile, but making progress. Does that mean I made the right choices? The wrong ones? Will I ever know?
I dunno comrade. But. We all do what we can, what we must, and what we can figure out. Maybe judgement and shame about all that just doesn't help.
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Fine Wine (Robert Plant x fem!OC)
Masterlist
Description: Our fiery OC from Cherry Lips receives a call from the man she's seen the world with, after months of distancing himself. She may just be the medicine he needs in his time of uncertainty…
Word Count: 6.5k
Tags: @celestial-dragoness @firethatgrewsolow @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull @chromations @angrychicksposts @friccinfricks @inanebula
He was greeted with an icy draft as he pushed open his door. A stark contrast to where he’d been two hours prior. A fleeting bask in the heat of his past. But that’s all it was. Fleeting. In the past.
Robert knew it had to happen. Ahmet would have enjoyed seeing the lads back together, even if it was just for one last show. It was necessary to remind himself of that fact, otherwise the work gone into the past month would be for nothing. Though, his brain—that guy up there—tried to convince the rest of him that it was truly fruitless. And he knew what he’d have to deal with for the next year or so…
Robert, is there any chance of a Zeppelin tour again?
Mr Plant, how did it feel to be up there again?
Do you think Jason lived up to his father’s name?
Are you and Jimmy planning on working together again?
What’s your relationship like with John Paul Jones?
Why wasn’t Stairway To Heaven released as a single?
How do you think your voice has changed?
Robert, why don’t you want to talk about Led Zeppelin?
Bob, can you sign this for me? Bob?! Who the fuck do you think you are, mate? You’re only gunna sell it on eBay.
Scratching at his head, Robert reluctantly turned the light on, revealing his current home exactly how he left it. Hah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s nobody here to disturb it…
There was so much of the world he still needed to discover, to figure out. More music out there to be made. So much bigger than the walls of this London flat sat high up in a building full of more flats, with even more people, with even more stories–Oh, shit, are you Robert Plant? I need to call my best friend and tell her you live right near me!
Thankfully, that common situation was less common in the area he chose to live. It made him feel dirty, buying such a luxurious flat in such a well-established complex. Some called it a penthouse, but no, that was two floors up. Alas, he did have a pleasant view of… the city. Okay, maybe not that, but at least he could go for a walk to the nearest coffee shop… Okay, maybe he couldn’t have that human experience, either.
To think that 34 years ago, he would be in the deep end, engaging in whatever post-show debauchery the band could muster up, and now he was here… A 59-year-old man unable to escape the 25-year-old boy that hadn’t experienced the true meaning of heartbreak yet. He was free, seeing everything in bold, whilst now he lived in a precarious state push and pull.
Desperately wishing for the world to see him as Robert Plant the musician, as opposed to Percy of Led Zeppelin.
Oh. There it is… There lies the conflict—his conflict. If he was hell-bent on enjoying music in all forms, being who he was at heart, why on Earth was he sitting on the edge of his bed, curtains drawn, dwelling on the fact that he wasn’t, in fact, Percy anymore?
Nobody told him the truth. Nobody told him when he was wrong, how he could improve himself. With the odd exception, there wasn’t a single person he came across in his ventures of life, who didn’t automatically compare him to, what he considered, that peacock prick of the 70s.
However, be that as it may, the audacity of Percy still ran rampant through Robert’s veins. If there was one thing age taught him, it was to grab life by the horns, come hell or come victory.
In his self-pity, still slightly buzzed from the bit of alcohol he’d already ingested that night, he took the leap in finding that familiar contact name in his phone, holding it to his ear as the dial tone held his breath with its frequencies.
Her phone rang just as she was about to take her first sip of wine, idly wandering in the kitchen of her sleekly designed flat. Half expecting it to be another call from the supervisor, she answered with an exasperated “Hello?,” bypassing the sensical act of glancing at the caller ID.
“Cherry…” he rasped, the name tasting bittersweet on his tongue.
Stiffening her posture, her previously tired eyes had blown open at the voice on the other end, as clear and crisp as it was in person. “Robert?”
“Cherry,” he repeated the silly nickname he’d given her a decade prior.
“Uh…” Delicately setting her wine glass back on the counter, she leaned against it, quizzically dropping her eyes to the floor. “This is unexpected…” She heard a gruff sigh, followed by some movement, coming from his end.
“I’m sorry…” he apologised, running a hand over his face as he stared out of his bedroom window. His phone felt heavy in his hand, bearing the weight of his audacity. Audacity he knew he should have kept at bay. “I guess age makes ya more of an arsehole…” he mumbled.
“Age? What are you talking about? Are you alright?”
“I’m as alright as an old man can be…”
“Your crypticism isn’t helping you seem less like an arsehole, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Rolling her eyes, she moved to grab her wine again, making her way over to the sofa.
A lengthy pause followed. There’s a reason they describe silence as deafening. It irritated her to no end; she was able to take two whole sips of her wine during the time he left her in this ominous limbo.
“Why are you calling me?” she finally asked through a sigh, perching herself on the arm of her sofa, swirling the fragile liquid in her glass.
“Just… wanted to talk.” His words were unconvincing. Like a stroppy teenager insisting they want the beef stew bubbling on the stove, all whilst eyeing the takeaway menu on the fridge. She could read him, even through the phone. Plenty of practice by now.
“Well, so far it’s just been me talking…” She waited for an answer, even checking her phone to see that they were still connected. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up?”
“Nothing’s up…”
“Okay, and I’m currently in Russia,” she responded dryly.
“Are you?”
“Seriously, Robert?” she huffed, scrunching her eyebrows up at his atypical ignorance. “Look, if you’re not going to tell me why you really called me, I’ll just hang up, I’ve got zero patience for this right now.”
Yes, that’s it… Tell me I’m wrong. Give it to me straight. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he dropped his head in relief.
“Please tell me what’s wrong…” Her voice softened, almost mimicking a beg.
He chewed his lip, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. Was he really this pathetic that he needed a woman to come over and make this already stressful evening a little less gruelling? Well, yes, he was. To him, at least.
“Do you, uh… think you’d be able to come over?” His voice faltered.
Pausing mid-sip, she double checked that she was hearing things right. That her ears weren’t playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be that outlandish to suggest auditory hallucinations at this point; it was bizarre enough that he was calling her in the first place. “You want me to come over? As in… to you? Right now?”
“Please…”
The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, punctuated only by the distant hum of traffic outside Robert’s window. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for her reply, acutely aware that he was asking a lot.
Finally, she broke the silence with a soft exhale, her voice tinged in a subtle mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “I guess I could… Why do you want me to come?”
Robert’s mind raced, searching for the right words to explain the tumult of emotions swirling within him. “I… I just need somebody,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Someone who won’t sugar coat things… Someone who knows me.”
She felt her heart stumble at his vulnerability, how fragile his voice sounded on the other end of the phone. Despite the fact that their interactions had become sparse over the last year, she couldn’t ignore the connection that still lingered between them, forged in the crucible of the years they’d spent in each other’s company.
Without another word, she made a decision, fuelled by compassion: rarely felt, but cherished when present. “Alright,” she said softly, her resolve firm. “I’ll come over. But you have to promise me something…”
A spark of hope ignited within Robert’s chest as he listened intently, hanging on her every word.
“...You have to tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t try and downplay it, either. Deal?”
A wave of relief washed over Robert as he nodded, a sense of gratitude playing eagerly at his heart. “Deal,” he agreed.
That leads them to the present, sat across from one another in his living room. Neither of them knew how the night would end, but all Robert knew was that he appreciated her willingness to come over at all.
“I thought you might have been out,” she speculated, accepting a glass of wine as a gallant replacement of the one she had to pour down the sink at home. Robert immediately shook his head, resting into the sofa with a hand rubbing around his bristly beard, unknowingly complimenting his fine wine allure. “Didn’t fancy another rodeo, huh?” she wittingly asked.
“I should imagine Jonesy’s all cosied up with Mo by now. Don’t know if I can say the same about Jimmy, though,” he huffed through a rueful laugh.
Biting her lip, she smirked to herself at his implication that Jimmy hadn’t lost his wild streak. “Well, I think it would be rather bizarre if Jimmy was with John’s wife right now, don’t you?” Injecting a bit of light into the atmosphere with her jesting tone, her smile grew with Robert’s in response.
Robert’s gaze lingered on her, from the light dimples on her cheeks, to the lips he would kill for. Though, now, they remained painted with a more natural tone as opposed to the deep cherry tint he associated with her. So beautiful.
She had to admit, upon noticing his wandering eyes, a familiar flicker kindled in her stomach, taking her back to the moment he first surveyed her from afar, all those years ago. “So…” she breathed, angling forward with her elbow resting into the cushiony surface of the chair arm, adjacent to the matching sofa Robert had relaxed on. Nestling her chin into her hand, she studied him. “What’s going on?”
Smile falling slightly, Robert cleared his throat and took a sip from his wine. It was discernible how desperately he was clambering to find the words, thoughts racing a millions miles a minute.
“Robert, I can’t help you if you don’t tell m–”
“Do you think I’ve lost my looks?”
Now, she wasn’t expecting that one.
Anyone who took one transient careen at him instantly concluded that Robert Plant knew of his appeal. So aware of his allure, it bordered on arrogance. He always played the game, no questions asked.
She let out an unintentional scoff, amused by his inquiry. Surely, he wasn’t serious. However, upon leering into his eyes a moment longer, she quickly realised he was being anything but frivolous.
Through a fated smirk, she asked him, “Is that really what you’re so upset about right now?”
He winced, huffing as he shifted on the sofa. “Not really. Well–yes, but no…”
“My God, men are so indecisive.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he shot back with a boyish grin.
“Stop,” she pointed her finger at him. “Stop being so charming and funny, it doesn’t work on me.”
“Are you sure about that, darlin’?”
“You’re diverting.”
“So are you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who called after not bothering for months on end, am I?” And…there it is.
He knew this was going to come up at some point, and he was inclined to agree with the vexation it bestowed upon her. As he kept his eyes firmly locked on hers, he saw as clear as day the betrayal that encompassed her. Perhaps a strong word for their situation, but the hurt in her eyes spoke of nothing less.
“Cherry… I’m sor—“
“That seems to be the only word you know lately, Robert,” she interrupted him coolly. “Y’know, I came over because you sounded upset, and believe it or not, I still care about you.” She rose from the seat, making steady back and forth paces across his flat. “God knows why I care about you, but I do.”
Robert parted his lips to speak, but she kept going.
“Do you know how happy I was when I got your text the other month?” she asked, turning to look at him. “Even if it was just to say happy birthday.” She shrugged. “Maybe some tiny little part of me wished that you’d have kept in touch, but then I came to my senses and realised that you’re Robert fucking Plant!” She chuckled airily, running her hand through her hair.
His gaze fell to the floor, pondering her words like a bout of bad news. With a swallow, he slowly responded. “And why is Robert Plant so different?” Her scoff brought his eyes back to hers.
Then, almost as if it pained her to utter the words, a stern gleam in those big brown eyes, she answered with the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth.
“…Because nobody comes close… to being like you.”
Compliments. More compliments. He shook his head with an exasperated resolve.
“No, don’t shake your head, when you know it’s the truth.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped a little closer to him, staring him down like a predator cornering its prey. “So I’m gonna ask you again…” she uttered, “What’s wrong?”
“I told you—“
“You asked me if I thought you’d lost your looks, you told me nothi—“
“I’m old!” He finally snapped, voice uncharacteristically raising. Distressed. Vulnerable. He shot up from the sofa, peering down at her with hesitant eyes. “All those people who came to see me tonight,” he pointed in the direction of the window, “They wanted to see that bare-chested young lad strutting around the stage and wailing like a newborn fuckin’ lamb!”
Robert breathed out heavily. It was his turn to start pacing, everything that had built up all evening practically spilling out of him like nickels from a glass bottle.
“Ya know, I’ve tried for the past 25 years to not be that anymore, to get as far away as I possibly could from all the bollocks, but tonight was a real fuckin’ grim reminder that all anyone ever cares about is my name!”
She’d never seen him this irate. He had his moments, irritable and unsatisfied with certain situations and people around him, but never failed to remain calm and respectful at all costs. The man she watched bounce back and forth in the dim light of his very un-Robert-esq home was the personification of a life lived to the fullest, only to reach a point in which there seemed very little left.
“Robert, I—“
“I realise I’m a massive fuckin’ hypocrite, by the way—being upset about people always expecting the young, virile Robert Plant, but also wishing I could have been that tonight.” Spinning on his heel to make another lap of the room, he was halted when she stepped in front of him, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. “Does any of that make sense, Cherry? Or am I going bonkers?” he asked with a hushed tone.
Sighing, she looked over his attire. Silky shirt with some sensible black slacks, encasing a body that displayed his advancing age. The lines on his face spoke of an earthy wisdom and a lifetime of laughter. Hair, previously a vivacious blonde, now faultlessly whisked with an ashy tint. His stomach was no longer landscaped, and one could no longer catch the intensity of his muscular build.
No, he wasn’t what the world instantly pictured when faced with his name. But he was still, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
“Robert…” she breathed, bringing a hand up to gently trace the pads of her fingers over his beard, along his jaw, before stopping to place her hand flat against the side of his face. “My sweet, darling Robert… You have no idea, do you?” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she took in the edges of his features, how the blue in his eyes still shone brighter than any star in the sky.
The warmth of her hand against his skin made him weak. His eyes hooded, and he found himself instinctively resting into her touch. “About what?” he replied, matching her tone. His hand wrapped around her wrist, keeping her near.
Endearing was the word that sprung to mind. He was so endearing at that moment. So naively heedless. She couldn’t help but smile, as if a whole new light was gleaming down on him. Layers she had never been able to peel away were now crumbling at the lightest touch.
“How perfect you are…”
“I’m far from perfect.”
“Maybe not by the official definition,” she agreed. “But my definition… it’s all you, Robert.”
Any anger she may have felt for his distancing himself, any iota of annoyance at his unintentional ignorance, was insignificant when compared to the kind of love she felt for this man. “I don’t care how old you are. I mean, you’re not even that old,” she chuckled. “I don’t care that you’re not… Percy, or however you want to describe yourself back then.”
Robert’s eyes shut as he gently rested his forehead against hers, hands lowering to grip onto her waist like he’d never get to again.
“I never knew you as that person, and I don’t want to. Because the man that’s been in my life for the past 10 years has given me more to live for than any arrogant little peacock could,” she grinned at her own wording, knowing she was using his own opinion of himself as ammunition. He picked up on it, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat.
“And let’s not forget,” she smirked, snaking her arms over his shoulders. “A lot of girls have a preference for older men, Robert, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the ideal. Plus, we don’t call you Daddy for no reason…” she giggled.
Even through his subdued demeanour, a tint of light pink coloured his cheeks; he hid it by dropping his head to her shoulder, tilting to take in her scent. “I don’t care about a lot of girls right now…” His words were muffled, but the way his lips gently tickled the side of her neck spoke for him.
“Robert?”
He lifted his head to look down at her. “Hm?”
“You’re beautiful,” she told him firmly. “Okay? I don’t ever want to hear you saying otherwise, because it’s bollocks. Pure bollocks. Alright?”
Okay, well maybe one person tells me the truth…
With a smile, he bit his lip and nodded, willing to take any word that fell from her perfect lips as gospel.
“Good.”
“Can I kiss you now, or am I still in troub–”
She cut him off with a heady kiss, hand holding the back of his head and fingers gripping at his corkscrew locks. A sigh of relief fell from him as he mirrored the passion, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to cradle her, encompassing her in his hold. His own fingers made a venture, delicately threading through her thick hair.
Eventually, he found himself backing her in the direction of his bedroom, willing footsteps following his lead. She didn’t even have to give herself to him. All she needed to do to keep his mind at bay, stop the intrusive thoughts from swirling in the recesses of his rapid mind, was be there.
But his Cherry was always insatiable, no matter the situation she found herself in. Like his own, her libido intensified in her 30s, and he deemed himself lucky to be on the receiving end of such licentious longing.
“I’m not gonna lie to you,” she hummed as Robert trailed his kisses along her cheek, eventually stopping at her neck. “When I got home from work, I wasn’t expecting anything like this to be happening tonight.” His bristly facial hair was tough against her skin, but provided a stimulating tingle nonetheless.
Chuckling, he nipped at her neck and guided her further backwards until she had no choice but to let her weight fall onto the bed, his following suit. His face hovered closely over hers, taking in her features. Admiring. Silently worshipping. She was everything.
“What?” she whispered up at him, stroking her thumb over his cheek.
Shaking his head, a small smile appeared on his lips. “Nothing… Just happy you’re here. With me.”
She huffed out a small laugh, placing a barely-there kiss to the tip of his nose, before nudging him to lay down so she could settle on top of him, legs trapping him under her. Using her hand flat on the bed beside his head, she propped herself up as she lingered over him. His hands were urgent as they gripped onto her hips, needily pressing his fingers against her curves. God, he wanted her so bad… It was next to impossible to be in the same room as her and not experience the familiar twitch below. That bloody blazer… She made every article of clothing look perfect, and she looked perfect wearing them.
Clocking his distracted gaze with a smirk, she smoothly brushed stray curls from his face. “What do you want, Robert?” she whispered, watching the way his eyes dilated and flickered through a mirage of emotions. “Tell me…” she encouraged, her lower lip slipping between her teeth in anticipation of his answer—an answer she was certain she could predict.
He sighed heavily, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t want you to think it’s all I called you over for, darlin’...”
She responded with a sweet smile and an airy laugh, shaking her head. “Hmm, no…” she mumbled, glancing down at his lips. “You told me why you called me over…” Lowering her face to his, their lips narrowly skimmed over one another.
“Now, I need you to tell me why you want me to stay…” Her voice had dropped to a sultry whisper, accompanied with a bold shift of her hips.
Jaw clenching, his grip on her tightened, goading her to keep up with her movements, to which she complied. “You really want to know, luv?” he gruffly asked.
“Dying to know…” she replied through a breathy sigh and a subtle smirk.
It seemed a mere millisecond had passed before one of his hands came up to hold onto the back of her head, pulling her down so he could speak directly into her ear.
“I want to feel you again,” he began, inching his other hand steadily from her hip in the direction of her backside. Guiding the paced movements she was still conducting. “Want to feel you forever,” he continued, words muffled against her.
By now, the strength keeping her propped up had waned and she found herself collapsing against him, once again completely wrapped up in his embrace, adhering to his ministrations, playing into his hands.
“I miss the way you wrap around me, baby,” he kept talking, barely realising each syllable sparked flutters between her legs. “And how sweet you taste…” Maybe he’d forgotten how much she enjoyed his voice in these intimate moments, but as she continued the rolling motion of her hips, the friction against her heightening arousal dragged a choked moan from her throat.
“Oh, ya like the sound of that, do you?” he provoked, his hand now holding onto her rear, but no longer guiding her; she was doing that all on her own. Taking her face in both of his hands, he brought her back up to face him. The familiar flush on her face, hooded eyes, the way her lips had parted and gentle gasps had fallen… “You like me talkin’ like that, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she breathed with a wanton nod. “Please…”
“Please, what, darlin’?”
“I-I need you…”
“You need me to do what?” His fingers began a steady journey over her chest, down to her stomach, where he inched his hand under the thin material of her blouse. Skin to skin. Fuck…
She whined, gripping onto his shirt, a furrow in her brow. “You know what I want, Robert…”
“Hmm, not sure I do–”
“I will leave if you keep playing with me.” As much as she wanted her threat to sound genuine, stern, her body was completely ablaze, and there was no way it sounded any stronger than a desperate plea.
Robert smirked at her, sneakily managing to slip his hand further down, until it was snuggly hidden within her trousers, her arousal prominent against the soft lace of her underwear. She gasped as he applied pressure, grounding her hips involuntarily.
“Somethin’ tells me yer not going anywhere, luv.”
Smug prick… Always so fucking charming…
Her eyes fluttered shut as he released the pressure against her underwear, but instantly reapplied it.
“I can already feel how badly you need me, sweetheart,” he casually commented, loving the way he could break her down. Just with a mere touch. “You just have to tell me… then I can give you everything you need and more…”
“My God, just fuck me already…” she murmured, craving more than a simple touch over a layer of clothing. Robert responded with a throaty chuckle, beaming at her as he removed his hand from her trousers and swiftly pulled himself up into a seated position, her legs immediately wrapping around him to stop herself from falling back.
With a challenging glint in his eye, he leaned forward, arms encircled securely around her as she dangled from his lap off the side of the bed. Her hands were holding onto his shoulders, giving him a warning glare.
“Now, now, don’t give me that look…” he chided, lowering his gaze down to her attire. “You look gorgeous in this blazer, but I think it needs to come off now.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” She obediently shrugged the heavy fabric from her shoulders, trusting that Robert wouldn’t drop her in the process. It fell to the floor, landing in a crumple—she’d surely chastise herself when the time came to put it back on, but at that moment, she couldn’t have cared any less.
A sharp squeal exited her mouth as Robert suddenly stood up, swung around and dropped her on the bed. He gave her a cheeky smirk, before lifting her legs to perch on his shoulders. Turning his head, he delicately worked the buckle on her heel loose.
“I like these shoes,” he nonchalantly complimented as he pulled it off her foot, dropping it down the side of the bed, before he repeated the action on the other. He pressed a kiss to her ankle and lowered his hands to unbutton her trousers, tugging at them when she lifted her hips.
There she was, laid over his bed, in nothing but a white, gossamer blouse and the contrasting underwear in a characteristic black lace.
“Y’know…” Sighing, he crawled over her, allowing her to slowly pop open the buttons of his shirt when he got close enough. “I’ve always wondered—with you in particular—how I managed to get so lucky.” He ran his hands up and down her bare thighs, savouring the smooth skin under his fingertips.
She didn’t necessarily answer him, only sent him a playful eye roll before pushing the intricate silk from his shoulders, where it was then tossed to the side to join her trousers on the floor.
Robert displayed no sign of hesitancy in his shirtless glory; he looked like a transcendental entity—a god of his own likeness. So deserving of everything good, yet the creator of the very same thing.
Her wandering eyes flooded with lust. She cursed the inability to squeeze her thighs together at the sight, at the situation. But before she could mourn the friction, he was down there in its place, as though he saw right through her longing. The soft fabric of her blouse became too constricting as her heart hammered away at the image of Robert knelt down on the floor with his upper body slotted between her legs, so she unbuttoned the garment, the air around them hitting her skin in a stark revelation.
“I told you I missed how you tasted,” he mumbled against her thigh as he peppered small kisses along the flesh, inching closer to her aching core, but bypassing it to replicate the motions on the other leg. His beard added a bout of sensation, hips rolling upwards in her thinned patience.
When he pressed his mouth against her clothed centre, she exhaled deeply, the simple touch sending sparks all throughout her body. Robert hummed against her as he caught her scent, mouth aching to taste what laid beneath the flimsy material. Soon enough, his own stoicism scattered—he had to have her against his tongue, now.
With a hungry resolve, he pulled the lace down her legs and pushed her open, the sight stirring his fervour below. He glanced up at his Cherry, deftly tracing his thumb over her already teary folds. She had her head settled against the soft sheets, managing her breathing in preparation for the delicious sensations that were to come. My perfect girl… Robert leered proudly, looking back down at the view.
He gently spread her open, her bijou pearl enticing and ready for the taking. Pink, glistening…
“So pretty…” he murmured to himself, taking an experimental lick just below the sensitive nub, eliciting a small flinch from the goddess laid in front of him. He licked his lips, relishing his appetiser. Next, he flattened his tongue against her entrance, collecting her arousal, and dragging upwards until he gave her the contact she so desperately needed.
By the time he attached his lips to her clit, she was already pining, throbbing. A small cry fell from her lips as he performed a suction motion, tongue swirling around her in lazy circles. She was trapped in his hold as he wrapped his arms around her legs, keeping her open and completely at his mercy.
Robert proved, with the sublime movements he bestowed upon her, that old men do, in fact, do it better.
With a grunt, he pulled his head back long enough to lewdly spit, mixing their fluids together in a union of lust. Her pants were a pleasant breeze to his ears, and her writhing form was his reward.
“That feel good, darlin’?” She nodded her head, one of her legs pulling him closer to her. “Look at me.” With a whimper, she lifted her head with the strength she could muster to meet his stormy eyes—eyes punctuated by grooves of sagacity. “Yer still my good girl,” he praised with a knowing smile, the wisps on his lower face shimmering with her juices. “Aren’t you?” She nodded again, practically unable to speak through her yearning. “Words, luv.”
“Yes… I’m still your good girl,” she shakily succeeded, swallowing thickly.
“Yeah, you are…” he whispered, pressing a brief kiss to her core. “Still Daddy’s good girl…”
She furrowed her eyebrows at the name she hadn’t heard in so long. The name she hadn’t even uttered to anyone else since the last time she found herself in this position with Robert.
An untamable animal under a gentle predator with an even stronger desire to tame.
“I’m gonna make this pretty little cunt cum now, darlin’,” he hummed, “You just lay back and enjoy every second…” He eased her back down with a hand on her stomach, before lowering his head and resuming with his erotic assault.
An elongated moan expelled from her body as Robert seemed to return with a vengeance, tongue rapid against her pulsating, swollen clit, edging her—driving her—towards a much craved release.
Once he slipped a finger inside, stroking upwards in tandem with his tongue, she was done for. Her moans turned to cries, her whimpers turned to whines, and his name flew from her lips at a rocketing pace.
Hips gyrating, back arching, she was in ecstasy.
Gripping tightly onto the bed sheet beside her head, her legs tightened over his shoulders, drawing him closer than ever.
Another finger.
More suction.
Closer.
And closer…
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop,” she gasped.
He didn’t.
What followed was nothing short of an otherworldly climax, tensing all over, gripping his fingers and pulsating into his mouth. Her hand shot to his hair, grabbing at the ash-blonde curls as he growled in validation, drinking in her release with the vigour of a water-starved cheetah.
She rode her orgasm out, body shaking and twitching as his comedown kisses hit sensitively against her. Eventually, he ceased his motions, snaking up her body, marking her on his journey. Each searing kiss to her flushed skin accompanied an indentation of his teeth. When he got to her chest, he dragged his lips between her breasts, up her neck, and finally punctuated with a heated kiss to her lips.
Her remaining clothes were quickly shed, as was his, as they fell deeper into their salacious reunion. Inching up the bed in the scorch of their connection. Both eager, desperate, urgent. It didn’t even feel real when he eventually eased his cock between her legs, filling her up with a steady thrust of his hips.
Robert never seemed to pull back from her; only stayed as close as possible, absorbing her every reaction, even the most miniscule, the most subtle… He noticed everything.
The pace he set. The small tightening of her limbs wrapped around him. The rhythm of her breathing. And, of course, the ripples and twitches and flutters from her welcoming cunt. She took all of him so well—she always did.
How he’d gone so long without her was a mystery. A foolish decision on his part, for he never felt more alive than when in her presence.
Hooking his arm underneath one leg, her body titled, cock kissing the hilt of her walls with every passion-filled jive. Her moans were melodic at least, with no limitations in their effect on Robert’s reverie. Fingernails raked over his back. Noses brushed against one another. Eyes fought to stay adhered. It was the copulation of a lifetime; even the first night they spent together sat miles from this.
“Cherry…” he groaned, evidently darkened chest hair grazing along her bare skin.
“No…” she managed to choke out, shaking her head. “D… Don’t call me that…”
Even more than her words, her eyes begged him to drop the silly nickname; it scarcely matched the moment, and gave their kinship too superficial a meaning.
With a smile of admiration, he pressed his lips to hers, free hand raking through her hair as his thrusts gained a jolting flair, building them up. Closer, and closer…
“Grace,” he finally whispered against her lips. “Grace, Grace, Grace…” he breathed, dropping his head to her neck.
Her name was exemplary on his lips. He practically chanted it the more he drove into her, knowing he was bringing them both closer by the second.
A lifetime could have passed, and neither one of them would have noticed. Completely, utterly, wrapped up in their mutual admiration for each other. Nothing else mattered. Their jobs, and all the emotions that came with them, were peripheral. Faded into the background. All that remained were the two of them.
Robert and Grace.
“R-Robert…” she panted, lips brushing against his shoulder. “God… fuck, I’m close…”
“Yeah?” he mumbled against her neck, his nipping quickly turning into biting, sucking, claiming.
“Mhm,” she nodded with a whimper, lifting her hips to meet his eager thrusts.
“That’s it, baby…” he approved, ensuring to match their rhythms. His breathing waned in its regularity, a heat rolled over his entire body. Just need to feel her… “Cum for me, Grace, please… can’t hold it any longer—fuck, you feel so good.”
It took mere minutes after Robert moved to press his forehead against hers, staring her down, for her to finally succumb to his behemoth gifts. She held onto the side of his face, nails digging into his shoulder painfully as she clung to him.
Ears buzzing. Eyes blurring. Head thumping with the beat of her heart. The way she gripped around him, paired with the breathtaking expression of her face as she reached her zenith, was almost too much for him to handle.
“Fucking hell…” he groaned, taking in her responsive form as validation of his abilities. During her descent, he spilled into her, restrain seeming like a fargone possibility. He gyrated, growled, and ensured to empty himself completely inside of her.
Their bodies were tacky, hot, flustered, trembling, as they laid there, entangled in each other’s limbs. Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on the overhead lights in his room that were yet to be switched on since his return home. Having him in her arms, in his bed, was a long-awaited scenario she never thought would come to fruition.
But it had.
Eventually, he rolled over, bringing her into his protective hold. Somewhere, lingering in the back of his mind, he feared she wouldn’t be here come sunrise. That she’d realise she was making a mistake, take one look at him upon waking up, and disappear as quickly as possible. The grip he had on her was his way of keeping her there, with him, for as long as he could.
Though, it just wasn’t enough to ease his mind…
“Grace…” he called out slowly, his voice practically shot.
“Yeah?” She looked up at him, head resting on his chest.
“Can you stay?”
What a question to ask… She raised an eyebrow, looking into his eyes. The uncertainty baffled her. How he thought she might leave was an enigma to her.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” she assured him with a whisper.
He responded with a sigh of relief, and a kiss to her hair, before shifting the two of them further up the bed so they could comfortably bury themselves under his sheets.
There was no second guessing herself as she wrapped her arms around him, his back pressing against her chest. She held him close, smiling to herself when he found her hand, lacing their fingers together in such an affectionate position.
They laid there, lit by only the city lights that spilled through the edges of his curtains, for a few more minutes. Listening to the beating of each other’s hearts, and the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing.
“Will you stay for breakfast?”
Grace opened her eyes, giggling softly. “Yes, Robert. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
Oh, darling… that would be forever.
#robert plant#robert plant fanfic#robert plant fanfiction#led zeppelin#led zeppelin fanfic#led zeppelin fanfiction#classic rock#fanfic#fic#fanfiction#rock music#70s#bijouxcaryslibrary#writing#writer#author#wattpad#ao3#fic writer#cherry lips
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Bodyswap Clinic: "Too old for college"
-Too old for college?- Said the college board when I retired without warning, I'm only 65 years old, and I'm not that old. I worked without arriving a single day and that's how the motherfuckers thank me with just a few bucks at the end of the month to live on, I didn't even complain when they invested all the money that was earmarked for the physics department in new uniforms for all teams sports
His much adored athletes could not solve a simple equation if it weren't for me, but it would be hypocritical of me if I complained out loud about something that benefits me I enjoy so much. When the captain of the football team arrived begging on his knees to take the exam with him because if they weren't going to kick him out of the team, I couldn't refuse.
He took me in the car that his parents gave him for his birthday to the nearest body swap clinic, and we made an agreement, only 3 days he would spend 3 days in his body answering all the exams that he was too stupid to pass, and I can say that They were the best 3 days I had had in years. It was great to be young again.
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And not only being young but also being popular, muscular and being fucking attractive in all my life I had never stepped foot in a gym but in the body of Jacob Taylor the quarterback of the university football team it was like living again. I even dared to abuse the deal I had with Jacob a bit and went to a gay bar on the other side of town, god! I must have broken like 4 asses that night with the tremendous tool that I had between my legs.
Likewise, I was always gay, but I didn't have the best self-esteem or the best looks, it's not like there was a long line to get fucked by a 70-year-old nerd like me. But in Jacob's muscular and attractive body I felt confident and even somewhat arrogant, -Do you want to touch them?- I told the first guy that he bought me a beer at the bar while flexing Jacob's huge arms just to show off. It felt good to be the center of attention for once in a lifetime.
The next day after taking all of Jacob's exams, it was a piece of cake, I was sure that Jacob would stay on the football team at least until he had to take another exam, the 3 days ended so quickly that I did not realize it, but He was a man of his word, so I gave him back his body and as soon as I got back to my old and tired body I felt like shit, Jacob gave me some money and thanked me and left in the car that I had been driving for 3 days.
I returned to my house and apparently Jacob did not go out for 3 days because he was in a mess, there was a huge bag of half-eaten Cheetos in front of the television, and he even left the sports channel on before leaving my house, I started cleaning my house returning to my routine as if nothing had happened, but the next day Jacob showed up at my house.
And he was not alone, he bro"ught 2 friends who wanted the same treatment as Jacob -please "bro" we need to pass the almost if we don't want to be kicked out of the team- I couldn't help but smile as those 2 athletes knelt in front of me and I gladly accepted they passed the days, the months and when I realized it, my room was full of athletes fighting for whom their beloved teacher would take their body.
"If I don't take this exam, my parents are going to kill me"
"If they expel me from the university, my girlfriend will break up with me"
"My mother told me that if I failed one more time they would take me out of the university and put me to work in the family business"
Were some of the comments heard from testosterone-filled athletes all over my room fighting each other to take a turn for me to answer all the answers that they are too idiots to make themselves.
Suddenly all the athletes from that university had the highest grades in the entire state and all thanks to their old and beloved professor, little by little I began to spend more time in the body of stupid athletes and less in my old and tired body and maybe Someday I would stay in the university forever passing from body to body of dumb athletes to help them in their exams.
Now I'm late, I have a math test in an hour and if I rush to finish it, maybe I'll have time to go to my favorite bar because the body I'm in now has a huge cock.
esp: sucked.https://docs.google.com/document/d/1V8VH1NvA7mC2B12uj8iKyxrI472vT_L_d85zQA_smOM/edit
Normally, I only post one story a week here on Tumblr. But today is a special day, it's my birthday, and I was looking for an excuse to show you my birthday cake. lol
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The last week has been a lot.
So. Youse folks may be aware we're homeless. The lease ran out and we had no income and no jobs lined up, so we were just picking the best place to be homeless and trans, and the answer was where we had the most friends and family, back home in a state I really thought I'd never see again. (Not for lack of affection. It's a weird place.)
We took a flight at the worst time, over the New Year, risking being part of the COVID spike. I even thought I had it. I think I caught the flu on that flight.
We stayed at a motel for a few nights, then that ran out, and we stayed with some friends. However, the terms of their lease meant we couldn't stay long. They decided, as the weather got worse and worse, to let us stay longer than they originally intended; family shouldn't let each other freeze, and they're found family. However, that was set to run out on Thursday, that is two days from now.
On Saturday, the transformer exploded outside. Two inches of ice all over town, much of it very dangerously smooth.
Finally, after 70 hours without heat or electric light, with propane and lamp fuel running out, they said fuck this and started setting up to leave, and we were not presented with the option to stay. But at that point the slightly above-freezing weather and rain had begun to freeze over again, making a shiny new layer of ice over everything that had at best only maybe smoothed out or slightly thawed.
We prepared to book it to the next place, which ostensibly would let us stay one night because of overcrowding, but that was before the ice storm. We haven't asked how long we can stay here. Getting here was its own ordeal, though, and I was starting to wonder if my meager B&E skills would come into play somewhere downtown.
Anyway, we helped free the neighbor's van. It wasn't at all certain how that was going to pan out; we tried calling friends, but everyone was trapped or unwilling to endanger themselves to get us.
We did call a Lyft. The brave, foolhardy soul got to the foot of the driveway, which is at times a 25 to 30 degree grade of slope and iced over despite great efforts to keep it clear. He got to the bottom, we failed to coordinate efforts, and he decided fuck this shit (I do not know what words he used) and left, and I respect that. Discretion is the better part of valor, so Cicero said.
The neighbor ventured out, got gas and air for their tires, and returned, and with our friends' help we lowered ourselves and our baggage into the van, which got halfway up the drive before it was able to progress no further.
Our kiddo slid down holding the line in one hand and sliding on a flattened cardboard box.
Lovie was at the bottom, loading luggage in the back. It's a damn wonder, frankly.
Interestingly, it was in the door I freed up, breaking most of my fingernails and causing both a small wound and a blood blister in the process.
Anyway, we are now iced in at a place that has power, and kbities, and my child is playing with friends they haven't seen in nearly three years, and it's
a lot.
We haven't asked how long we can stay. We suspect everyone's playing it by ear.
Lovie's handling it all better than I am. She's a trooper, a soldier. I'm a mess, always have been.
So yeah. That's where things are at now.
[ID: A game of klondike solitaire on real cards by lamplight; very dim, no other light sources. Red tablecloth. Cozy and moody. /ID]
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OKAY this was coming a couple miles away from me, soooo how about some kissing HCs with the fashion croc himself, Gentoku? 👀 -Ryuki Friend
Took me like 70 fucking YEARS to complete it but fuck it. HERE. IT. ISSSSSS
Warnings: I miss Sawa so slapped it in here because I'm gay and I want more Sawa content. Also fuck it, slapping Kazumin in here. Other than that...nothing much? I hope you enjoy it my dear~! ;)))
Sidenote: thanks to @maou-the-tree for helping me think of ideas for kazuminmin
Himuro Gentoku:
Kissing Gentoku are a set of beard burns that honestly aren't as bad as you think they are. They're calming, scratchy, and burn in the best of ways. In fact, that's how kisses are with him. A burning whiskey being sent down into your body and the wonderful effects of alcohol making you float into the clouds but then be punted back down to earth into the awaiting hands of your croc of a lover. It's a goofy sort of grin to his lips, one you don't expect from him but you know it because it's...it's simply Himuro Gentoku.
Actually, he adores kisses. Sure he's busy a lot of the time and only has cheek kisses and lip pecks to spare whenever you two get to meet for only a brief second...but he adores every single little bit of it. Again, his dopey smile is on display and he def wants to merely admire you just a bit longer before he has to return to his unfortunate job of papers and headaches. "Just...just one more..." he would always beg, to you or to himself? No one is sure persay but he is a bit greedy. He almost seems like he'll swallow you whole...
It's sooo different when you two are alone though. Gentoku were calmly walk up to you (a pep in his step, a smile to his face, this vibration in his body that merely makes him want to sweep you into his arms and kiss your breath away) and pressing his lips to yours in this fashion that makes you simply melt. His arms wrapped around you and smiling into this kiss with passion ebbing and flowing into you; it's hidden behind a dam and he's carefully letting it trickle out to see you, to nourish you. But if you want to break that damn and let it be unleashed...well...that's another story. ;)
Gentoku is actually secretly pretty clingy but he's able to hide it rather well. There's hints of it whenever you two show affection to one another. His arm around your waist, his hand at the small of your back. But he actually cannot live without your kisses! It gives him energy throughout the day. So sure he may send you texts of how much he loves you and misses you, but giving him a kiss during work or in general makes him the happiest man alive.
Also since you two go out clothes shopping a lot, he loves it when you two grab each other by your clothing and kiss! It's the best way to shut up Gentoku and honestly, it's how he gets flustered the most. He stares for a moment but shrugs and goes back in for the next kiss. Sure yoou two kinda...uh...end up making out in the fitting room but it's fucking worth it.
Takigawa Sawa
Kissing with Sara is simply...a home. A place for her to rest her wings, her legs, her brain, her heart. It's coming home to a spouse you never knew you had but it makes you feel complete in a way that's like going on a honeymoon as newlyweds and never leaving that phase. It's sweet, adoring, and if she could, she would take a snapshot of this moment to forever display in her mind or in her phone. Her cheeks are always left flushed with adoring rose, picture perfect.
Speaking of the said photos, Sawa has definitely saved a picture of you two kissing to her phone. It's like her screensaver, lockscreen, homescreen, etc. It's various kissing pics of you two! She tends to longingly stare at these damn photos that everyone rolls their eyes and sometimes playfully gags. This earns a huff from you and her to be honest.
Sawa can limit herself on her kisses, in theory. She does need them to give her energy and it gives her suuuch a cute bounce in her step and a squeal from her lips. She's shining brighter than ever, happier than ever. There is a small (read: medium to high) chance that she may jump into your arms to give you kisses if you give her one. It's like, once you two kiss, you'll never stop. Sure sometimes she WILL get a bit pouty when she doesn't get them at regular intervals but...she'll live...probs.
Due to this, Sawa is hella not shy about public affection. Sometimes she does get a weeee bit blushywushy in this "Oh, you, darling~!" kinda way, playing coy before diving in for another kiss. But in general, Sara def loves giving kisses. It's almost a ritual when you two kiss, one in the morning to wake up, one before and after work, sending kisses via texts, or vids of one another blowing kisses, then kisses before bed, etc, etc. A routine.
Honestly, kissing Sawa leaves you both breathless. In a way that kinda says, "Idk when we'll see each other again but let's make every part count but also GOD you're so fucking CUTE lemme just kiss you" it's those two moods and there is no difference. This blurring of sensations into one another that makes it holy belong to the two of you and only the two of you...
Sawatari Kazumi
Kazumin's kisses are...not greasy icky (the Korean slang for this is like corny or cheesy) but passionate and sometimes a bit corny. Simply because his passion is far too much. It's burning, it's going to burn you but never harm you. It's whiskey sliding down the back of your throat and making you feel oh so airy. It doesn't matter if it burns on the way down because it's all you want. It's the feeling of getting drunk but also getting high and giddy. It's that euphoria...I think that's the best way to describe his kisses. Euphoria that starts off slow then bursts into flames. Maybe dips you while kissing idk, he probs would.
I HAVE to talk about the first kiss because Kazumi was so fucking nervous man. An outward monologue of sheer worry: "What if I mess up? What if they don't like it? Oh my God, I'm about to kiss the person of my dreams. Alright, Kazumin, get in fucking gear, you can do this. Take them by the collar of their shirt and just fucking kiss-" just kiss him to shut him up. Please. It's literally one of the best things in the world. Actually, always kiss him to shut him up. Listen he gets super flustered from this.
Kazumi does need the kisses semi-regularly, similar to Sawa. However, he will pout and make it much more audible that he wants your kisses. He's quite the dork so cheek kisses are a must for him. Forehead kisses too! He loves quick little pecks of affection because they can always turn into something more!!! Cheek kiss? Nose kiss? Bam! Suddenly he's kissing ya on the lips. Kazumi is predictable and yet not at the same time, and for him, it's so so easy to get lost in the kisses and the sheer idea of kissing you. It's addicting.
The Hokuto Trio are like, literally the biggest fucking hypemen. Which leads us into PDA, Kazumin wants it, a lot. Kazumi has like, some chill depending on the type of PDA. Holding hands? Perfect, it's fine. The trio are squealing and snapping pics, that's fine. But kisses? Oh, Kazumin is dying on the inside this is true but it won't mean he won't kiss back! He's fucking READY to kiss back spontaneously! Actually he does a lot of those kinds of kisses, surprises and what not. The trio tend to like squeal and be like: "YOU GET EM BOSS" please help them. Kazumi tells them to leave you alone but like, listen, they're ya fam now and they just!! want!!! you two to be happy!!!
To be honest, I think out of all of the kisses present in Kazumi's mind...chest kisses are one of his faves. It's the heart where his passion lies, where you lie. To kiss his chest right over his heart makes it stutter and scream because of course it would. Just for you and only you. Passion begins within the heart, curling up towards the brain and setting it alight. Fires that follow after a trail of gunpowder to just burst into fireworks that are meant to show off but sometimes they do and sometimes they only become simply embers to warm yourself up to. That's the thing about kissing him, loving him. Sawatari Kazumi is warm. Sometimes that warmth can burn others, but it's meant to be that bonfire that gathers people together, keeps them safe from the darkness and warms your soul. That is what you two are.
#kamen rider#kamen rider imagine#kamen rider x reader#kamen rider build#himuro gentoku#takigawa sawa#i saw this gif of him and i thought of you <3#sawatari kazumi#honestly i got VERY nervous to write for kazumin fhduishufdh#i have a soff spot for he#i dont wanna mess any of em up for yall so im sorry if i did#anyway back into my hellhole ig o#also i literally only refer to kazumi as kazumin now hguhdigfuhf
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all of them. unless you're uncomfortable with any
01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?
only with my mom
02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?
I last said I love you to panda
03: Do you regret anything?
yep, lots of things
04: Are you insecure?
hell yeah, plenty to not like about me but that’s the anxiety talking
05: What is your relationship status?
taken
06: How do you want to die?
quickly, calmly
07: What did you last eat?
hamburbur
08: Played any sports?
play soccer mainly, but dabbled around
09: Do you bite your nails?
unless I paint them, yes
10: When was your last physical fight?
fourth grade
11: Do you like someone?
yeah, I’m dating them
12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?
yep
13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?
I hate actions not people, unless the action is unjustifiable. So like, Israeli military and my dad
14: Do you miss someone?
I miss my moots in a way of ‘we never met but I want you here way’
15: Have any pets?
yep, always lived with dogs
16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?
really shitty
17: Ever made out in the bathroom?
nope, never even kissed someone
18: Are you scared of spiders?
nah, they’re little guys
19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?
nope, might get killed legally
20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?
haven’t yet
21: What are your plans for this weekend?
take a fucking break
22: Do you want to have kids? How many?
maybe, all I know is I want to adopt
23: Do you have piercings? How many?
none, but I want basic earibgs
24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?
anything art related or english
25: Do you miss anyone from your past?
no, I left them for a reason
26: What are you craving right now?
sleep and cuddles
27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?
yeah,,,,, I didn’t want to hurt them but I’m not going to date someone I don’t like back. It’s not fair.
28: Have you ever been cheated on?
nope
29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?
I believe so, but we were being sweet and it was a while ago
30: What’s irritating you right now?
school
31: Does somebody love you?
yes
32: What is your favourite color?
red
33: Do you have trust issues?
yes
34: Who/what was your last dream about?
Me, someone was trying to kill me
35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?
my teacher when asking for stock footage
36: Do you give out second chances too easily?
I think but also everyone deserves a new chance
37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?
forgive
38: Is this year the best year of your life?
don’t know, still growing
39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?
haven’t had one
40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?
when I was like one
51: Favourite food?
Cheese quesadillas
52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?
yeah, why else would they happen
53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?
hug my mom
54: Is cheating ever okay?
only on tests that don’t matter much
55: Are you mean?
playfully mean
56: How many people have you fist fought?
three
57: Do you believe in true love?
yes
58: Favourite weather?
summer rain
59: Do you like the snow?
YES
60: Do you wanna get married?
yes
61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?
yeah, I love pet names
62: What makes you happy?
a lot of things
63: Would you change your name?
yes, I did
64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?
no? I kissed my mom on the check and I’ll do it again
65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?
(well as a trans male) if I was single and liked them then maybe but usually I just say I’m not interested and run off embarrassed
66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?
not really
67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?
Inka
68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?
my mom
69: Do you believe in soulmates?
yes
70: Is there anyone you would die for?
no, but there plenty of people I’d live for
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i haven't watched "it's all in the game" since i'm still on classic columbo but based on your screencaps MY GOD they fucked up the job on dyeing peter falk's hair.
on one screen cap he has dyed hair, on different one you can see the roots and yet on another one he has his natural grey color.
like i get it, recording one hour-long episode takes months and i have much respect for makeup and costume department and i also get the fact that columbo is bit younger than peter falk AND the set lighting can either be your friend or your enemy but for continuity sake i would just let falk has his hair normally from the start of rebooted series. or at least get a good hair dye and a person who does it well because this is atrocious.
i have seen your previous answer on the dye job in columbo so i felt inspired to write this ask <3 love your job on this blog and the full-blown analysis and tidbits from the series when needed <3 *chef's kiss*
thank you so much!! 😊💖
yeah, it's the prevailing opinion amongst fans that the dye job was...kind of unnecessary at best, abysmal at worst. i have utmost respect to costuming/cosmetic staff, but they really dropped the ball on falk's hair in the reboot. at times i'd even go as far as to say that at times they ruined it, a cardinal sin considering how important columbo's hair is to his overall look.
it wasn't just the dye, either. they started giving him these like, weirdly overstyled 80s blowouts and cuts that didn't suit him the way his natural hair did.
columbo is at his best when his mane is messy and effortless but still good enough for tv. left is original series, right is reboot hair (done right)
i think part of what bothers me about his reboot hair is that it appeared much more deliberately styled--which is antithetical to the character because columbo is supposed to be low maintenance. some of his 70s looks were styled but like...one minute with a blow dryer styled, not "full dye wash and set" styled. most of the time it's relatively natural, and sometimes they even let him keep his natural curls/waves.
at first i even sort of understood the hair dyeing, even though he was rocking significant grays as early as halfway through the original series. they wanted to retain that youthful charm, and in the late 80s falk had enough dark hair that the dye job didn't look so wrong. but it was rather ludicrous that they were dyeing the hair of a 70 year old man before finally realizing that it looked ridiculous. there were a few times earlier where they started letting it go ashen, and i was like wow! they're finally gonna...
then they were like NOPE SORRY and dyed it again and i punched a hole in my drywall
let
him
go
gray!
there. much better
#ironically the dye job made him look older most of the time...#it is gay for a man to have curly hair#text#columbo#ask#misc#sorry for the delay life's been Heck Tick
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Okay I've had a bit to recover from the 52 Emotions. Moving through Final Crisis, 70 appearances left to go til Flashpoint.
Justice League of America 2006 #1
Not actually an appearance, but someone impersonates Vic in a flirty note to Vixen and it's very funny to me that a) he's a known pain in the ass among Leaguers and b) she's down for it.
Countdown #40-38
Renee's here! It's not great, she's only here for a couple pages, but she and Kate are kicking ass together, she's funny, she looks good, and Kate calls her Question for the first time.
Crime Bible: Five Lessons of Blood #1
After all this time, Renee gets a solo of her own, and it's SO good.
She's so cool! Relentless, inquisitive, always in motion... it's not that she wasn't great in 52, she was, but she really flourishes when she's in her own space.
#2
😳
I have thoughts about how much Renee's grown but um. Women.
#3
Renee finally gets to reflect on her time at the GCPD, which is interesting. She still has some respect for Maggie and Gordon, but Bullock is dead to her.
Divorce! This is a really good divorce moment. Back in 52, she pushed Kate away for the exact same reasons - old habits die hard.
#4
Tot continues to be my fave despite not doing much. He's perpetually hanging out and begrudgingly helping.
"We're not friends." Two pages later handing her a hat he made in case she gets cold.
Myra...
The newscast says Myra was "elected for a third consecutive term last fall", which I think means she's been mayor for nine years unless some American mayoral terms last different lengths? I'd have guessed it had been longer, but it's not an unreasonably short timeline.
I'm so glad Renee goes back to Hub City. The Question isn't a mantle that carries a lot of recognition, but it does have a history beyond what it meant to Vic and Tot, and I'm glad there's this closure.
Izzy's more Gordon-y than the last time we saw him, but hey it's been almost a decade and it's good for the parallels.
#5
It's important to me that she's funny. She's learned how to go with the flow and take things in stride, and that means saying dumb shit even when she's actively in danger.
This fight is drawn so well. The dialogue wouldn't land nearly as well if it wasn't for the pacing.
This all works so well to flesh out who Renee was, who she is now, and where she might be going.
The Montoya Journal
Not a comic, but some supplementary pieces, because the secret code in the scriptures was too subtle and the way to get people to notice it was to send out secret journals with props. Pictures of the contents are included with commentary in the back of the trade.
Here's a link to some archived posts about the contents, if you don't have a copy, including a link to the song.
The fake band has a MySpace page and an actual song you can listen to. There are designs for in-universe newspapers and messaging apps. The physical journals came with bullet casings. The commitment here is ridiculous.
Only sixteen journals were ever made and I want one so badly.
Final Crisis #1
More events. I'm getting sick of events.
Something something Darkseid. I don't know what's going on with most of these characters and I don't really care.
#3
Getting arrested by... I think these guys are like Checkmate?
Final Crisis: Revelations #1
This is the part of Final Crisis that's relevant to Renee.
Crispus has been having the worst time since we last saw him.
#2
What if your dead best friend turned into the personification of God's wrath and tried to murder you about it after you'd spent years dealing with your Catholic guilt over being a lesbian. Would that be fucked up or what.
#3
The DC universe has some truly wild theological problems.
Is this blasphemous? Should I like. Put some kind of content warning on this?
I don't know if this is that good but it's very dramatic.
#4
Renee kicks Cain in the face.
The Radiant talks theology and the problem of free will and prophecy.
It's a Lot.
#5
Renee hits the combined might of Darkseid and Vandal Savage with a "I know you are but what am I?" and it works so well it allows her to restore Crispus' faith in God. I love comics.
Final Crisis #3-7
I've decided I don't actually care enough to do these individually. Renee gets recruited by Checkmate because she's so good at both cop stuff and superhero stuff that she should lead the charge into another universe. Cool? Good for her?
Captain Marvel tells her not to swear and she says no.
Wow that sure was a Crisis. Anyways.
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what's your favorite era (appearance, characterization, etc.) of adam warlock? you're like the #1 fan of adam warlock 😍👌
This is no joke anon I'm incapable of being normal about Him.
My favorite comic Ever of All Time is the classic 70's Warlock by Jim Starlin!!! What is there to say about it even it's simply THE quintessential Adam Warlock story and I think everyone should read it :^) it has it all... unavoidable tragedy, evil alter ego, martyrdom, blatant anti-christian allegory, catholic guilt, suicide, existentialism, nihilism, funky visuals that make it obvious it's the 70's and everyone's on drugs, the wizard of oz, clowns, shark in space, Adam/Soul Gem OTP, first appearance of The Magus, Adam's first time meeting Pip/Gamora/Thanos, Thanos killing Adam, Adam killing Thanos, Adam and Thanos kissing in a tree (ok I made this last one up) etc.
Also Adam's perfectly coiffed hair + sideboob/bootyshorts look goes hard as hell I refuse to hear otherwise.
My other fave looks <3 Counter-Earth + Infinity Gauntlet/Infinity Watch/Infinity Crusade
I like Roy Thomas/Mike Friedrich's baby Warlock, he's cute, but Jim Starlin's Adam is the most specialest boy in the whole universe I LOOOOVE HIM with my whole heart and everything Starlin has written with Adam and/or Thanos is near and dear to me.
I think there's at least something to like about every "era", I love the Magus, I love the Goddess, Adam's big queer gender self-discovery adventure is definitely a highlight, I LOVE the Infinity Watch... I am admittedly a bit of a Jim Starlin purist though, Adam (and Thanos) written by other people always just feels a bit off and ranges from ''bad'' to ''pretty good'' but I'm fond of Annihilation/GOTG Adam by DnA too.
Definitely though my BIG FAVE era besides Warlock is the combined last two trilogies by Starlin, Thanos Annual + Infinity Revelation/Relativity/Finale & Infinity Siblings/Conflict/Ending + Infinity Entity + Thanos vs Hulk + GOTG: Mother Entropy. I know that's a lot but it counts as one in my head lol.
Best comics ever actually, I was already obsessed with Adam and Thanos beforehand but these really irreversibly rewired my brain so there's no hope for me anymore. For context you must understand that by the time these books started rolling out Starlin hadn't written for Marvel in a decade with no sign of returning so I lost my fucking shit when they were announced lmao. I had already accepted that we wouldn't get any proper sendoff/conclusion to Thanos and Adam's character arcs after some 40 years of slowburn because that's just the nature of comics but!! WE DID!!! Starlin came back and gave them an actual ending, he tied up his version of these characters with a nice little bow, while it's obviously still left open for other writers it frankly doesn't really matter to me what anyone else does with them going forward because I'm satisfied with the story that's already (almost) entirely contained within Starlin's work. Not that I won't still complain if they're terribly ooc but that's not My Canon, you know.
Like. I would sit here with my tinfoil hat on and conspiracy theory board out connecting the dots and yelling about the growth between Adam and Thanos and the overarching themes/motifs... Just endlessly speculating on how this tentative friendship of theirs would even work since we hadn't actually gotten to see it in action since they Officially became Friends™ in the very last issue Starlin wrote before leaving Marvel for 10 years and no other writer wanted to touch them. Big thoughts about how it's all REALLY about loneliness and love and TRUST and redemption, how Thanos is desperately in love with completely obsessed with Adam, how Adam in many ways mirrors Mistress Death, how perpetually aloof Thanos learns to genuinely and wholeheartedly trust in Adam and how opening himself up to the living (Adam/Eros/Gamora/Pip) gives his life true meaning, how Adam and Thanos literally cannot exist without each other or they'll self destruct... THEN my guy my dude my very bestest pal Jimbo strolled in and casually validated all my inside brain thoughts by further expanding on the pre-established themes and making all that more explicitly canon and I just had to grin and bear it and pretend I'm normal. like???? HELLO????? IT FEELS SOOOOO GOOD TO BE RIGHT ABOUT LITERALLY EVERYTHING
The juxtaposition between these books and his older work (Warlock in particular) is actually so satisfying to me too. The numerous callbacks, echoes of past storylines, the role reversals... I know some people hate how repetitive Starlin's storylines can be but I love the consistency, this infinite loop of death/rebirth that Adam and Thanos are stuck in narratively really highlights how they change (or don't change) over time, it works perfectly for them both in text and metatextually. The becoming God and blowing up the universe for the 50th time doesn't matter it's about the friend(s) we made along the way.
Anyway. I've actually grown to really like Adam's outfit in these books too, it's very old school but I'm into that... a glorious return to pointy shoulders <3 (he matches with Thanos hehehehe)
Okay that's all. He is my special little princess.
#I feel like this is maybe more than you asked for but augh I just. I have FEEEEELINGS ABOUT THEM#Also sorry I cannot separate Adam from Thanos if you let me go on for long enough I always end up talking about them both lmao#Adam really used to show SO much skin but then he became emo and started wearing black huh#anonymous#text
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this is violet
she cuts her own hair, likes holographic stuff and hasn't showered in two weeks
i currently have two reqs lined up and i'll get to them before the year ends hopefully
more stuff about the future of the account and me are under the cut but tw/cw for mental illness and suicide ideations i guess
ok, so, i don't want anyone to reply to this, talk about this or reach out to me about this at all. any attempts will get you blocked on any platform i have you on. i just want someone, ANYONE, to hear me out. i know this is cringe, but i don't care, i no longer have the will to care. i don't care if you give two shits about me when i don't show the same kindness to myself.
i've been at my lowest for months at this point that it's getting funny, since november of last year holy shit did everyhting just get worse. if it's a mental breakdown it's been breaking down for months what the fuck is this supposed to be? the other time i felt like this was in highschool but it wasn't exactly the same. i had a life goal, it wasn't to get good greades or get in a good university or finish shit on time or even become a better person, it was starving myself until i either died or reached my goal weight which ot lower and lower. and now im so fat again and i feel like her efforts were in vain, what did she do this for? i thought getting into a decent program would fix this and i actually did feel happy, but im such a miserable pathetic cunt that nothing ever is enough, NOTHING IS ENOUGH AT ALL
am i so retarded that i can do nothing by myself? i've been losing friends left and right but it's all my fault, always my fault and honestly it doesn't matter anymore because tthe end goal is to block and remove every single one of them, every single one of you, every single person that might have interacted with me and either diasappear or end it all. the firnends i got from wattpad 7 years ago and the frends they brought along th way were the rock, they got me through all these times, they showed me unlimited and unconditional love and support and what do i give back in return? NOTHING AT ALL can't give them a better version of myself, can't give them a better friend all i can be is a retarded piece of shit and leave them behind which is so so fucking sad. i will at least treat them tea and home baked goods some fucking day but god i hope that day comes soon because i cana't take it anymore. but i love them, i love them and my cat more than fucking anything and im so glad i have them as my true friends, i hope they know they're th best things that has ever happened to me.
tip: if you ghost people for long enough they give up on checking on you and that's for the better, they better not know i exist, i no longer exist
the night, the fucking night in february that i finally decided to overdose and end it all i realised that i had ran out of my pills :DD the fuck. and then i lost my courage because of course i did. but maybe that's a good thing, the silver lining in still being alive was i started browsing gore subreddits and decided that the best way for me to go was a shotgun suicide. deep throat that shit and tilt back and bliss. i hope. it's so fucking scary to think that if i miss i'll become even more of a burden to my parents AND THEY'D MONITOR EVERYTHIGN i wouldn't even have the chance to try again. but i'll cross that bridge whe n i acquire a gun, i'll tint that shit pink and bedazzle the shit out of and clear a good 70% of my head out :3333 if i ever feel ready to go before that i'll hang myself in the farthest woods from my city and bloat with all my might, get so disfigured that they won't ever identify my ugly face. until then a girl can only dream...
shit gets better for a moment but then im back at square one, what good am i to this world? other than sitting on my ass, listening to shitty music and walking around the dining table fantasising about all the things i could've achieved and eating up daddy's money, i am nothing. nothing, just nothing. all i do is take up space and be a burden to those that love me. my parents tell me that i am not a burden but i can sense it, i can feel it, the thoughts are there in their minds. i am not sure if it's the sunk cost fallacy but one of us will have to cut our losses and understand that we will get nowhere. i guess that would be me, my parents could never ask me to leave. i know that they love me, but sometimes love is not enough and they can still love me whereever i am, i don't even have to be alive for it. all they are believing right now is that i am doing better and me taking less meds is the right thing all while my mind is in agony. but it's not real, it's in my head, and i am so ashamed, so fucking ashamed. i already do my best to disappear from their lives, i give no input to famil decisions, i try not to spend money, what else can i do? let me rot in my room and call some cleaning services, idc. i no longer want a room in the house they want to buy. the sooner they start pretending i don't exist the better it will be for all of us.
less meds mean more alcohol, i can get away with more alcohol and maybe even i shot up some heroin people would care about me less. i would do that given i had the chanve and that thought is so fucking terrifying. knowing that i innately want to destroy myself, and will fucking do so, it's terrifying. i hate every single part of myself, the part that is scared and the part that is mad, there is nothing good in me other than pure misery. i don't want to be sober, i don't want to be sober, i don't want to be sober, i don't wanto be sober at any moment of the day, not anymore not anymore not anymore not anymore. i am so terrified of men that the thought of being alone with A MALE FRIEND makes me sick to my stomach. nothing would happen, nothing would happen other than exchainging some laughs and memes BUT I AM TERRIFIED. I AM SO SCARED. i am so scared. so scared of everything. nothing ever happened to me that would justify this fear but my god does me brain hate me so much that it keeps giving me irrational fears to prevent me from ever escaping this room. living with my parents, it's so hard to destroy myself. they don't want me to drink even beer and i can't even cut anymore since i wear such revealing clothes. the cuts on my thighs from february or march are still visible and im scared they will always be, why are they so brown and ugly and not faded?? wrists get a milky white colour, WHY ARE THESE SO VISIBLE? no one has cauht a glimpse yet but what could i even say? a cat doesn't scratch in that pattern.
i live in a shit country in a shit city with shit people while being the biggest of shit myself. sometimes i even wish i was hitler so that i could be someone, ANYONE.
maybe one day i'll read this and cringe. maybe one day things will get better and i'll realise the progress i've made, or maybe, more possibly, i'll reference this post in my suicide letter in APA 7th edition format if i ever write one.
holy fuck was writing all these shit cathartic. i don't know why i wrote this at all. maybe i wanted someone to acnowledge me, that my existence wasn't in vain. my i wanted to acknowledge myself. each passing day i feel like im getting more separated from my body and my real life body is a different person and i, as my cconciousness, am somebody different. i hope one day i will be able to feel the same and a real person, but those days seem too far away.
won't even tag anything, pretend this never existed.
edit: 4.51am, i just learned a 22 year old girl killed herself by throwing herself on the tracks. i'll be 22 soon. maybe that will be my tipping point too.
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I'm the one who needs to suck a cock now
Stealing my grandson's body was the best idea I've had in years, now I'm in his apartment, in his young, muscular and hot body While he's in the fucking nursing home in my old, obese, already sore body 70 years, maybe if he had been kinder and visited me from time to time he would have stolen the body of that sexy nurse.
Although now that I have my nephew's body I don't regret anything, I feel so energetic that now I just want a good pussy to break.
I'm going to have fun in his body for a while, right now I'm looking at his messages to find a girl in which to bury my new and monstrous cock, it seems that I was his grandfather's cock although it is a pity because the one my grandson has now It only works with a large dose of viagra, although I don't think I will fuck in my decrepit old body again.
-Oh! shit! It seems that my grandson loves to suck cocks, I never knew she was a sissy, he did not look like it with all these muscles and tattoos, he always seemed quite masculine to me- without my noticing, cock began to get excited while he looked at the photos on his phone, only hairy asses and cocks. ... I think I'm the one who needs to suck a cock now.
A message caught my attention “Hey sexy do you have free time today? I left work early and I want to fuck NOW ”was one of my grandson's friends who was looking for some action.
oh shit, I'm so hot, I replied immediately "I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk in a week" I might get used to this being a fag ...
this is one of my stories from last year that i posted on my patreon if you want to read more of my stories take a look at my page or join my discord server
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If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog!
Hmmmmmmmmmmm three things.
Aight
1. I'm from a small ass village with technically other villages nearby, but we have absolutely nothing to do in any of them except learn how to drink. Also, when I say small village, I mean 500 people. Dont talk to me with this several-thousand-people bullshit that some call a village. That's a city, thanks. So yeah, I can drink like a madlad, despite my comparably low tolerance. We're very bored and it's ingrained in the culture.
2. I tend to end up in weird and highly unlikely situations, mostly because of my friends. I'm introverted as fuck with an absolutely abysmal amount of social energy that has only gotten worse with se virus. So its rare that I'd land in a situation of my own accord, but my frens n family take care of that. Highlight would be somehow being invited to a rooftop jacuzzi party of some very rich lad in Berlin. I won't go into the details, but it was a very funky day and I only ended up there because of my best friend, who tends to know everyone, everywhere she goes.
3. I've had quite a few near death moments, where, looking back, had I been a bit to the left, I'd definitely be a goner. And I'm talking car accidents, broken appendix, broken skull kinda stuff, not 'I almost slipped and fell hahaha'. The last one was last year. Went skiing for the first time since I was like 13 and promptly decided to try the second most difficult ski run on the whole mountain cause I'm gonna fall anyway, what's the worst that can happen. I'm very proud to say that I actually managed to go down the first time, without crashing even! The second time I basically faceplanted and had to be flown to the hospital, kindaaaa traumatizing my poor bebe cousins along the way. I got away with a concussion and a few scratches, not even a broken nose or anything. Considering that I was pulling a straight run, because I'm an idiot, and going at least 70 kmh, that's pretty impressive. So yeah, I jokingly say I'm unkillable a lot, but I've proven it quite a few times by now. Got it from my papi.
#other weird fact would be that my family is weird as shit#but tgats for anlther time#anyway#ajekyllsask#tadaaaaaaaaaaaaa#have some funky info bout meeee#thx for the ask this was fun!
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I posted 2,721 times in 2022
76 posts created (3%)
2,645 posts reblogged (97%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@uglypastels
@grussell63
@bigilante
@miss--river
@dont-you-fucking-dare
I tagged 569 of my posts in 2022
#joseph quinn - 43 posts
#eddie munson - 35 posts
#the sandman - 31 posts
#andrew garfield - 27 posts
#legendary post - 26 posts
#loki - 24 posts
#joe quinn - 22 posts
#dear no one - 21 posts
#spiderman no way home - 18 posts
#harrison osterfield - 18 posts
Longest Tag: 132 characters
#i really thought today was 1st of april until i checked to see if mobile network was on 0 again. first time i used all it in a month
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
I love when Daniel goes "gi gi gi eh eh eh eh"
36 notes - Posted September 10, 2022
#4
After 1,5 of having the same background I finally changed it!
Unfortunately, the gif background I have for my lockscreen can't be posted:((
Anyway, here is my homescreen. Feel free to use it yourself!! Let me know if you like it and/or if you use it
43 notes - Posted February 1, 2022
#3
Hello, I am here to announce that I have found someone new to crush on
*drum roll* it's Tom Sturridge!
And let me tell you, that voice!!!😍
70 notes - Posted August 23, 2022
#2
Closer| E.M. Imagine
I had this idea for an Eddie x female!reader imagine.
Thought/ dreamed about this last night. I'm currently on my period, started to hurt like hell when i went to bed. Had a hot water bottle but I think having an Eddie would help a lot too.
This is not proofread, but you'll get the idea anyway.
You're best friends with Eddie. One day when you're hanging out at his place, you fall asleep in his bed. This happens in the evening/ night, so Eddie decides to also go to bed.
The two of you are quite close: you are comfortable enough to talk about everything, or just quietly enjoying each others company, but als frolicking (kind of like the relationship he has with Dustin). However you never cuddled when sleeping or when you're simply hanging out.
In the morning before you left your house, you're period started. Surprisingly, you barely had any pain until the night. Soft moans of pain left your mouth as you were in a deep sleep.
This woke up Eddie, he asks you if you're alright. Still in a very sleepy state you say that you're on your period. He proceeds to ask if you need anything. You mumble 'No, just hold me.', and he does. Eddie pulls you closer, your back against his chest. His right hind gently rubbing your stomach you help get rid of the pain.
When you wake up, Eddie is holding you. Laying on your sides, your head against his chest, Eddie's hands caressing your head and your back, and your left arm around his torso. You don't remember saying you wanted Eddie to hold you, but you definitely don't want him to stop or to pull away yourself.
Okay, that was my little idea! I hope you liked it!
93 notes - Posted November 25, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
1) Derry Girls S3 finally on netflix 👌 2) Liam Neeson is Derry Girls👌👌 3) this fucking gem of a scene👌👌👌👌👌👌👌
276 notes - Posted October 10, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#Don't remember writing that long ass tag lol#Funny to see that my nr 1 tag is JQ i started doing that in September after watching ST
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