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#little spoon!jonathan
judehatesmaths · 5 months
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Watching Fellow Travelers has made me crave a boyfriend so hard, I'm so gay for Matt and Jonathan.
THE TENDER CUTE CUDDLY MOMENTS THEY HAVE?!?!?!?! I need that.
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glitter-and-metal · 4 months
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Archer: Malcolm, are you a big spoon or a little spoon?
Malcolm: I'm a knife.
Trip: He's a little spoon.
Dedicated to the lovely people on the Enterprise Fans Discord :)
Screenshots from www.trekcore.com/
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wibble-wobbegong · 1 year
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it’s a byers boy thing
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musicalchaos07 · 6 months
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I need Jonathan Byers to survive so he can become some Gen z kid's emotional support weird Gen x boss
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scleracentipede · 10 months
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I don't know much about DID, so this is very interesting for me to learn about!
Question: is Batman aware of Jon's DID? If so, is he able to recognize the alters and switches, and does he interact with each of them differently?
I’m glad my silly little au is proving educational 🥰 if you ever have any DID related question you can always dm us we’re always happy to help people learn more
So: Is Batman aware of Scarecrows DID?
Yes absolutely - he already knew about DID/OSDD from being friends with Harvey and Co. (who I hc as being an OSDD system and knowing before becoming a villain) before he meet Scarecrow (well meet him properly, they’d crossed paths before either had donned their masks) so already knew a lot more then most and is a true ally to the DID/OSDD community.
Our Bat is much more of a caring figure I suppose who makes an effort to know what health things his Rogues has going on not to use against them but so he can avoid hurting them too much (e.g., he’d never kick Jon’s bad leg in a fight) so he knows about their DID.
The real question is does Batman know about his own plurality 👀
Can he recognise whose fronting and does he interact with them all differently? (Going out a read more so this isn’t too long for those who are just scrolling by)
Can he recognise them all?
Sometimes - there are little clues and habits they all have that he usually to differentiate them all (eg. If there’s singing he knows it’s going to be The Hessian and that he will likely get a little kiss) but he doesn’t get to spend as much time with them all as say Edward (whose the best at telling, as he likes to boast) so doesn’t always know for sure or immediately.
How he interacts with Hessian:
- Like I said he’s likely to get a kiss from Hessian along with a “We’re not so different you and I” speech
- Hessian is the most difficult for him to fight in some ways: more reckless, masochist so enjoys getting hit back, most likely to bite, hard to focus on fighting when someone moans when you hit them etc.
- But equally Hessian is easiest to get monologuing and to distract (not as single minded as Jonathan)
- He still tries to pull his punches despite Hessians ferocity as he knows it’s still just sick and scared really
- He has sympathy for them all but Hessian’s speech’s hurt his heart because he can see the pain behind them
- He has truly feared that he would die when fighting Hessian before
How he interacts with Jonathan:
- Opposite to last Hessian point: he has truly feared that he would kill Jonathan before
-Jonathan is painfully excellent at pushing his buttons and getting under his skin with surgical precision
-He truly cares for him and wants to help all the same
-He sees Jonathan’s obsession with fear and power like an addiction and he’s not wrong
- When not fighting (basically when he isn’t between Jonathan and his goal) he finds Jonathan very pleasant and interesting to talk.
-The conflict between him and Jonathan is completely impersonal to Jonathan despite how precisely he hurts Bruce, it’s all just work for Jonathan
-This drives Bruce mad and intrigues him at the same time: after all is he any different to Jon in his pursuit of his own goal?
- He seems himself in them all but especially Jonathan. In another he could be the same if he didn’t have the family he feels so lucky to have
- He thinks in another life they could have been good friends and maybe even worked to do good for the world (whatever that actually means)
- They are mirrors essentially- Narcissus and his reflection in the lake
- He worries that Jonathan single minded focus will kill them all
How he interacts with Raven
- She is the one in their system he can bargain with
-If he needs their help with something he’ll usually try to appeal to her if he can
-She claims to not hold any stakes in his “childish games” with the others
-Other than that shes very cold towards him
- They rarely interact outside of this
How does he interact with Keeny
- Keeny makes him so very sad
- Once again mirrors and all: sees his own hurt inner child pain, sees his own children’s pain, the Scarecrow system and other the Rogues’ childhood pain reflect in that sad little.
- He’s held Keeny through panic attacks and flashbacks many a time when a hit during a fight has landed just wrong or a fear toxin canister has burst bought him to the front
- All the Batfamily GCPD and the Rogues know when Keeny fronts all fighting is to stop when Batman is around
-Really activates his paternal instincts
-He’ll never raise a hand or let a hand be raised to Keeny (they are just a child after all)
- He just wants her to be okay
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lumaxramblings · 9 months
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alright stoners, here's a tricky question for you:
ronance vers
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dmitriene · 19 days
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cw: dark content, dubious consent, spanking, humiliation, thigh riding.
you were a proper brat, the one that town sheriff jonathan price couldn't stand at all, every outing you made to the town was leaving him with bulging veins all over his neck and forehead, jaw grinding harshly as his calloused hand stroked his mutton chops.
price just hadn't a single nerve for your antics, wandering around the town in the tight little shirts of your daddy that you sewed to fit your body, the slinkiest denim shorts that was possibly existing were hugging your rounded ass cheeks, soft flesh barely peaking beneath when you were bending against the shop's wooden counters.
you were john's menace, stealing for your own fun some fresh juicy fruits from some poor lad's shop, never paying and always giggling, charming his brains out of his head so he wouldn't notice your arm full of sweetest peaches.
wandering around john's office, twirling your ass all around and chatting with muppets that were sitting in jail cells, the same place you should be sitting at least couple of hours as well, but price doesn't have a strength to run after you, and his boys were failing on catching you as well.
you outrunned every one of them, from charmingly annoying scott, to the politely sunny man that was called kyle, and even the behemoth of a man that everyone was naming as a ghost, mostly because he gave up the first time you shoved your tongue at him and sprinted away by jumping through the gates.
your biggest fault was stealing something from sheriff himself, wandering to price's office while he was out for some deal as you wiggled yourself through the open window, just «a silly joke» on him for not letting you having your fun and reporting each movement you did to your daddy, but oh, you shouldn't have touched his things at all.
shouldn't turn his neatly organized office upside down, climb through his shelves and touch folders with important documents, as well as shouldn't open the jail cells and let out those who were sitting there for malicious mischief and other, similar to this one, things.
it really wasn't worth it to end up bent over a hard, muscular lap, with your tight little shorts dangling at your feet and cotton panties crumpled just enough to expose your rounded, soft rear to the silent room, where the only sound that resonates off the brick walls is loud, raw spanking slaps.
it's the first time in a long when john was that much furious, making his face go deep shade of red out of anger, fists tight and whitening at his sides when he opened the door to his office, catching you off guard in the middle of your antics, azure eyes darkening almost immediately as his fingers twitch and grasp at your hair, rippling out a loud, strained squeak off of your pretty lips.
you clearly didn't expect to see him, that john could tell, as well as end up half naked before his intense, burning gaze, a complete mess with your hands literally tied, now you couldn't run away from him, not when he finally caught you up.
maybe he enjoyed it too much, the thrill of having something that was constantly running from him made warmth bubble in his bulky body, like a game of cat and mouse, but finally you got exactly what you deserved, and john intended to feed it to you till the last spoon.
— “cocky, impudent little brat„ he all but barks and growls, making you shook not only from the stinging pain on your bulging ass cheeks, but also because of slightest fear that grip your body in its clutches, holding you unmovingly on john's thick thighs as you let out whimpers and tiny, ringing mewls.
tiny rope bites at your sore wrists, calloused palm slaps against your completely raw, reddened flesh with licking pain, your limbs feel absolutely putty, useless in your current state, with fat salty tears rolling against your fluttering eyelashes and down the flushed cheeks.
he smells of musk and gunpowder, sweat, scent with which he came back at least hour ago, and you knew that you're in for trouble, because he reeled of irritation.
all this situation was supposed to scare you away, make you beg for forgiveness, but you welcome each and every harsh slap with pooling wetness in the gusset of your cotton panties, the gentle lips of your pretty pussy visible just enough for john's gaze to catch on, and he straight on slows down.
the only thing that you register in your buzzing brain is harsh puffs that comes off his mouth, before dry ungloved fingers slide up against your folds, gathering the sticky, pooling mess, and you jolt, sobbing out a high gasp, which makes price huff out bewilderedly — “fuckin' hell, you're getting off to this, sweetheart? enjoying the humiliation?„
that makes your blood run incredibly hot, cheeks and ears burning up harder than the sensitive flesh of your perched ass, and you wiggle intuitively, pussy throbbing on itself and making you whimper, sincerely plaintively, cotton fabric sticking to your slicky folds, as you gather the courage to wobble out the small — “n-no„
but your body doesn't agree, you're aching, every limb feels as if it's itching and pulsing, you don't see how price bores his cerulean eyes into the slick gathered on his thick fingers, his own body rolling with waves of heat, clothes feels suddenly too tight for his own good, before he yanks your tied hands.
sudden movement makes you choke a squeak, rope still biting into the thin flesh of your wrists as he moves you to straddle his thighs, sitting securely, making your denim shorts slip off your legs completely and to the floor, as air in his messy office bites your sensitive ass cheeks, before there's another delivered, stinging slap.
you cry out, body jolting and pressing against his as you fall face first into his shoulder, inadvertently inhaling his cologne and hints of leather, his rough fingers knead your ass, calloused thumb rubbing strangely soothing circles that make your plush thighs squeeze together around his, desperate need for some kind of relief wells up hot and bothering, in your tummy and pulsing, currently neglected cunny.
price drinks up your every reaction like the most delicious whiskey, the labored breaths and the feel of how your pussy throbs, he can feel it all, together with hardening sensation in his boxers that makes his pants feel too tight beneath you, but it all will end up more than soon, cause his free hand moves to grip the back of your neck.
he's tugging, making your spine arch as your mound rubs against his leg just the right way, and he growls, head tilting to whisper out in your ear, his facial hair rubbing your skin harshly — “let's see how brave you are for real, darling? get off what's bothering you, and maybe.. maybe i'll consider to not telling your daddy what happened here today„
that makes you mewl so embarrassedly, nod your head silently into his muscular shoulder as your rounded hips roll cautiously, sudden pleasure sparks all through your shaking body as you still hide your face from him, but it doesn't matter, cause you're already signed the deal with sheriff jonathan price.
and no one in this town, if it's not the future dead man walking, will risk betraying the deal with him.
so you roll your hips rhythmically, letting your sopping pussy glide smoothly against his clothed thigh as your ass perches up, with his thick hand still caressing and kneading shamelessly, your strained, panting voice huffs out ashamed and delirious — “y-yes, sir„ which pulls a wide grin to his lips and a dark glint to his vivid eyes.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months
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Simmer #3
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CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 
It was easy. It was simple. 
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 
 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 
“You got a crush, my friend?” 
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 
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mysticmunson · 8 months
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buddy; steve harrington x f!reader
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s.harrington x f.reader
a little blurb i wrote quickly about reader ditching the mushy nicknames they both love. no warnings, but blog is 18+ and special thanks to the loveliest girl ever, autumn, for entertaining this idea w me @lilacletter word count: 1k
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The idea sprang into your brain through a conversation with Robin over frozen yogurt, a mountain of toppings on each of your treats. 
“The way you two fawn each other is weird!” Robin scolded, shoving her plastic spoon in her bowl.
“What! How?” You laughed, wiping a bit of vanilla from the corner of your lips.
Rolling her eyes, she huffed, “Baby? Sweetheart? Love? Don’t even get me started on darling or mama-And yes! I did hear when he called you mama and it made me gag. Use something less gross.”
Her tangent made your cheeks warm, covering your face in embarrassment. The names were cavity levels of sweet, both of you loved them, but it was silly to consider how often you indulged in them.
So sitting on your blue sofa, you watched TV with the volume a bit higher than you wanted it to be, too lazy to stand and turn it down. 
“Hey buddy, can you turn it down please?” You asked from the mountain of blankets as he walked into the room.
“Yeah- Wait what?” He froze, finger on the sound, pushing down for a few notches.
“Thank you.” You replied, ignoring his question and just relieved you could watch Family Ties in peace. 
Your warm smile made his own question fade, figuring he misheard you, and moving on with what he was walking towards. Which he forgot, so he went into the kitchen. 
It would be an hour or so later when you were getting ready to hang out with friends, standing in the bathroom and applying some concealer when it would happen again. The wand glided over your skin, gently patting it with your fingertips as he walked in behind you.
A hand firm on your waist to solidify his balance and keep you in place, he went over your head to reach your medicine cabinet, taking the pot of hair cream you bought him for Christmas.
At your side, he opened it and began applying it to his hair which was now scattered with shades of blonde due to the brutal summers of Indiana. After he finished, he wiped his hands on the towel hanging on the rack, turning around to put his cream back.
“You look so pretty.” He gawked, kissing your temple before looking at your concentrated face in the mirror as you applied mascara. The words made your heart flutter, a small ache in your tummy that could only be brought on by emotions from another person.
Recalling Robin’s words, you smiled, “Thanks, pal.”
A nearly disgusted look went onto his face, not remembering the last time someone called him a pal. But you looked unphased, so he assured himself it was a bit of a tease, settling for squeezing your hip assuringly and walking out of the confined space. 
However, the ride to Eddie’s new apartment was seamless with listening to Wham on the radio, stopping for candy, and walking in his front door with that and the movies in hand. Nancy and Robin were already there, and Jonathan and Argyle were ditching this week's movie night to go on a small road trip to buy certain plants in another state.
The pizza man had delivered dinner as you all sat on pillows on the living room floor, napkins and paper plates in hand. 
“Thanks, dude.” You quipped, taking a bite of the pizza your boyfriend had just set on your plate. 
Eddie’s loud cackle broke Steve’s distressed look into a more agitated one, Nancy smirking to herself as Robin joined the laughter.
“Harrington, how did you get friend-zoned by your own girlfriend!” Eddie barked, grabbing his own stomach. The use of ‘dude’ wouldn’t have caused such a fuss if they weren’t already aware of how overtly affectionate you two were in terms of endearment.
 “I’m not in the friend zone, you asshole! There’s nothing wrong with being friends with a woman- But we’re not friends- Wait! No! She is, but we have se- She is my best friend and girlfriend!”
Cutting off his rambling, you patted his shoulder, “I know what you mean, man.” You placed a kiss on his forehead, but that didn’t erase what you called him. 
Swallowing his pride, he pouted through the rest of movie night, even when you cuddled up next to him sweetly. Physically, your public displays of affection weren’t too egregious, so the normalcy felt pleasant.
As the night came to a close, both of you now in pajamas, the frustration had dissipated. Beneath the sheets, you curled and waited for Steve to turn off the light before joining you. Walking over while scratching his belly, he joined you, shuffling to be closer to your body.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, kissing your nose, followed by your forehead.
Putting a kiss on his collarbone, “Goodnight, buddy.” 
What you didn’t expect was his foghorn whine, dramatic as he sat up, yanking you with him, all to just hover over you with your wrists in his hands. It was embarrassingly easy how quickly he could overpower you like this, but this was probably due to how you didn’t fight back. 
Giggling with girlish lit, you looked up at him, “What?”
The creases between his brows doubled as the scowl on his lips grew, pressing his face to your cheek as you shrieked. 
“Stop calling me buddy!” He complained, resting his weight on top of you, “Or any of those other names either! Why do you hate me!”
“Stevie, I don’t hate you!” You cooed, nudging his head up with your cheek until he looked at you, “Robin mentioned how gooey our names are and I wanted to try to switch things up.”
Scoffing, he rolled his eyes, “Of course, Buckley had something to do with this.”
Slinking your hands free, you cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips. There was something so enticing about his skin that you were convinced you were reliant on it. 
“I love you, baby.” You murmured, his sigh of relief audible as he deflated to his side, pulling you in close to his chest.
“I love you too,” He began, speaking into your hair, “don’t call me dude like that again though or I will lose my mind. Absolutely bonkers. I will fight Robin at work-”
“Okay, sweetheart.” You cut him off, kissing his chest as it rises and falls.
“Much better.”
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thank u for reading! check out my other fics in my masterlist :)
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wildesqdreams · 1 year
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teen vogue
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pairings - drew starkey x actress!female!reader, the outer banks cast x actress!female!reader (platonic).
summary - outer banks cast plays "truth or dare" on teen vogue.
warnings - mentions of tomdaya, drew eating a spoon of mayonnaise, spoilers for outer banks if you haven't watched the show... and my shitty writing.
navigation | masterlist | request | taglist
a/n: i haven't really seen any new drew fics, so after watching the outer banks interviews, i decided to write something. i litterally cannot wait for obx season 3, like literally. okay, hope you enjoy :)
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"we're the cast of 'outer banks' and we're here with teen vogue to play truth or dare."
the actors played rock, paper, scissors with each other to know who would go first. madison won, as she beat y/n since the two girls were left last, resulting in her starting first.
"i think because i'm first, i feel like it's okay to play it safe, so," she put her hand in the bowl in front of her, "we're gonna go with truth."
the girl read the paper, she pulled out, "whose trailer is the messiest?" and like that she momently answered, "i'm gonna say jd."
carlacia beside y/n said, "i knew that was coming,'' while looking at the boy.
jonathan spoke, "what about y/n?!"
"hey," the girl turned to him, " my trailer is clean on the weekends," that made drew let out a chuckle.
"okay, well, first of all... it's not just my stuff in that trailer," the boy stated, making the cast laugh, "when john comes in there, he's got his whole workflow going, you know what i mean?" he drank his coffee.
madison continued, "you're right, i don't have a roommate so my place is pretty tidy, but the pro is, it is the 'mario cart' trailer," she pointed back towards jonathan.
carlacia added, "it's the gaming trailer."
"i set it up for everybody... everybody, everybody comes in and plays in my trailer," and others agreed with what the boy said.
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"i'm gonna go with truth," y/n leaned forward and took a piece of paper out of the bowl.
she unfolded it and read, "oh, this is a good one," she let out a laugh.
the girl felt drew lean down. feeling his warm breath on her ear, as he spoke, goosebumps appeared on her arms, "kiss, marry, kill - pope, jj, and rafe," he leaned back, eyes remaining on the girl, "interesting."
"why's there not john b?" chase asked.
"he's sarah's man," jonathan answered, as chase nodded.
madison looked at the girl beside her, "sooo, y/n... what's it gonna be?"
"well, obviously i'm killing rafe."
"hey," austin said, "you could change him."
that made y/n chuckle, "by getting a bullet in my head? no, thanks," the cast laughed, "and, ummm... then i'm probably kissing jj and marrying pope."
drew dramatically put a hand to his heart, "ouch."
the comment made y/n smile and shake her head.
"why not marry jj?" madelyn asked, tilting her head, so she could see the girl.
y/n looked at her hands in her lap, as she fidgeted with her fingers, feeling nervous about talking so much. the girl felt a hand come to her back. it was drew, softly rubbing up and down, "i feel like jj gets in a lot of trouble, so i just couldn't handle the stress because of him, and... i'll leave him for someone else," she lifted her head back up while looking at the camera, "you'll found out in season 3."
madelyn nodded, and austin spoke up, "doesn't drew cause trouble?"
"yeah, a little, but i can handle it."
the girl heard carlacia mutter beside her, so she could only hear, "it's called love."
she felt drew's touch disappear and she looked back, at him, seeing him smiling at the camera, "well... i'm gonna pretend that i didn't hear that," he then looked at the girl, still with the smile on his face.
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"throw me the dare bowl," jonathan asked.
y/n grabbed it and turned to give it to him, hearing madison beside her say, "okaayy".
he picked out a piece of paper and read, "talk to the camera and tell your celebrity crush that you like them."
"this is great," carlacia spoke.
"oh, boy... all seven of them?"
the cast laughed and y/n said, "you could try, maybe you'll get a call from one of them later."
"from zendaya," drew added.
"pfftt, yeah, only in my wildest dreams where tom holland doesn't exist," laughter again was heard from the comment, "that was a joke, we love zendaya and tom," jonathan spoke in a serious tone.
"tomdaya forever," chase said, as the cast nodded agreeing.
jonathan looked at the camera, "y/n y/l/n," at his words everyone giggled.
drew looked at the guy next to him, smiling, "ay, man, wait a second."
austin chuckled, "someone's stealing your girl."
"i'm kidding, i'm kidding," jonathan looked back at the camera, "zoë kravits," laughter yet again was heard.
madison, giggled, "why do we have the same?"
"i mean c'mon," he continued.
madelyn looked at him, "i think she'll go for it."
"she's already fallen," y/n said.
austin added, "yeah, you got her."
"well, i don't know."
"channing tatum is out. out of this," madelyn confirmed.
"no, i can't... i'm, i'm not as magic as mike, but," the girls laughed, "i'll still make your dreams come true."
"oooh, that was a good one," y/n nodded while looking at him.
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drew leaned forward, while making grabby hands, "give me truth."
y/n gave him the bowl, and he smiled, "thank you."
he picked out a paper and read, "who's most like their character in real life," there was silence before he added, "me?"
the cast laughed, while drew mouthed 'no', as jonathan spoke, ''let him speak his truth.''
drew smiled, "actually... actually, yes."
"y/n?" austin asked, "is he?"
"yeah, am i?" drew looked at the girl, who was sitting on the couch in front of him.
"oh, yeah, definitely... he's kind and lovely, exactly like our sweet rafe," she let out a laugh.
she looked at him, as he continued talking, "umm, i'm gonna go with the old rudy boy,'' his gaze locked with y/n's, ''cause he is a tasmanian devil."
the cast chuckled and drew's lip corners lifted when he saw his girl smile.
''for sure,'' carlacia agreed.
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austin looked at the second bowl, "i'm gonna go with dare," and once again y/n passed the bowl to him.
he had picked out a piece of paper with the text 'eat three crackers and then sing your favorite song' written on it. the boy made a face that made the others laugh.
while austin was putting the crackers in his mouth, madelyn said, "we can actually help austin with this,'' and y/n agreed.
"yeah, yeah," jonathan nodded.
the boy with the full mouth counted, "one, two, three," before the cast started singing the song 'charlie, last name wilson' by charlie wilson.
as they finished they all clapped, "yeaahh."
y/n felt something on her shoulder. as she turned she saw drew cleaning the crumbs off of austins leg, which landed on her. he looked at her and mouthed a 'sorry, baby,' as he brushed her shoulder.
she laughed with the others when austin said, while eating the crackers, "i need a water, need a water."
jonathan added, "he's dying.''
after he got the water bottle and took a sip, he looked at the camera, giving thumbs up, "okay, we're good."
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carlacia had already picked truth, "oh, god," chase and y/n leaned to her sides to see the text, as she read, "read the last text message you sent," she looked at the camera, "no chance, we're not," she didn't even finish before they all started laughing.
jonathan clapped, "oh, shoot, they couldn't..."
"NO,'' carlacia leaned on y/n shoulder.
a few seconds later, the girl grabbed her phone. as drew said, "let's go, yeahh."
"oh, i know what it's gonna be," the girl beside her said.
"i texted tanner and i said 'can you get me and y/n super bowl tickets'?" and the room was filled with laughter again.
"running sharks.''
"make it happen."
carlacia smiled, "rihanna's in the super bowl this year, and... we're on the hunt for tickets."
"we love rihanna," y/n added.
"yeah, we do."
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drew couldn't even rest from the pickle shot with jonathan because the next dare was for him to eat a spoon of mayonnaise.
austin was really nice and picked a lot of mayo from the jar for drew.
he grabbed the spoon in one hand and the jar in the other, as he looked at the camera, while austin said, "c'mon now... you got this from north carolina."
and with that drew ate the mayonnaise.
everyone was shocked and disgusted and gagging at the sight, while the boy enjoyed the mayo.
"it's like ew."
he even swallowed it, which made y/n stare in shock.
austin gagged, "i don't like mayo."
"i don't like it either," jonathan stated.
chase laughed, "y/n won't be coming home with you."
"yeah," y/n shook her head, "definitely not," she turned back to face the front.
"we'll see about that," drew smiled down at the girl.
when he was done he breathed heavily, while austin patted his back, "what a champ."
y/n looked at him and scrunched her face, "god, you smell like mayo."
"lovely, no?"
"absolutely no," she looked at jonathan, "i'm gonna be living with you from now on."
and before anyone could say anything he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "no you won't."
the girls beside y/n gagged at the smell, "ew, what the fuck, drew!!!" but the boy just smiled, while drinking his water, feeling proud.
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"thank you teen vogue for having us, see you next time!" the outer banks cast ended the video after the last dare, which was for jonathan.
and like every other interview, it ended on a happy note ended, because laughter was heard, when madison howled like a wolf.
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taglist: @willowpains @rana030
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Note
I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3
VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.
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pairing. neil lewis x reader
summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!
warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers
word count. 2.4k
a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)
P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!
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Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married. 
For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…
🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young. 
“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”
🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio. 
“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”
🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night. 
🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin. 
🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”
🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children. 
“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”
🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day. 
neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”
🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him. 
“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!” 
🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning. 
Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…
🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake. 
“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”
🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know. 
“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”
🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.
just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”
🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips. 
🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites. 
“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked. 
🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.
“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”
All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.
You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one. 
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lazycats-stuff · 8 months
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I think I'd like to see jon kent being a great older brother to superbaby like he hears any sounds from the nursery indicating his brother might be awake he is SPRINTING to that nursery, first thing he does when he's back from school is greet his brother and tell him about his day, he wants to be the one that feeds/bathe him/and take him to the park, i imagin jon will be one of those siblings who have a breakdown when their baby sibling stands up on their on for the first time because they realize that baby is growing up!
Oh my God, he totally is that type! He would be happier than Clark and Lois combined. I'm kind of laughing at the situations.
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When Lois got pregnant again, it was by pure accident. Clark and Lois didn't think about the second kid, but they didn't mind having a second kid around the house. The only worry they had was concerning their first son, Jonathan.
When they told Jonathan he cried. They were thinking that they were upset, but then he nearly flew through the roof from happiness. He hugged both of his parents tightly, although he was more careful with his mom.
During all those 9 months, Jon was the big help around the house. You are thirsty mom? You are getting a pitcher of water. Oh there is some dust that needs to be wiped? Done. You need ice cream from downstairs? You got it.
And once (Y/N) was born, Jon was too impatient to hold his baby brother. Clark had to remind him to be calm and gentle. Once they entered the room where Lois was resting, Jon nearly ran to her. Clark chided him a little bit, but it was cute.
Lois showed him his baby brother and Jon took his little brother in his arms. Clark showed him how to hold the baby, making sure that his head is supported. Jon watched in wonder and amazement, as (Y/N) moved his little arms slowly. His eyes opened for a moment before closing again.
Jon was officially in love. Clark and Lois could see it from a mile away. They smiled at their two sons and all of their worries were now gone.
Jon also turned out to be a third parent to (Y/N). He carried him a lot, played with him a lot in the living room and insisted to feed him and bathe him. Clark didn't know that Jon would be so attached to his son.
But it was nice to see it.
Right now, Jon was feeding his younger brother, pretending that the food was the airplane and (Y/N) was laughing like a mad man. He was squealing and kicking his legs. Clark was washing some dishes in the background.
You never know how many cute sounds a baby can make until it's fed. If you forget the crying. But none the less, they are adorable. Until they reach their teen years. Then it was going to be a very bumpy ride.
But for now, Clark is going to enjoy this era for as long as he can.
" Say awww (Y/N). " Jon cooed at his little brother, putting a spoon closer to his mouth. (Y/N) opened his mouth, taking the food into his mouth.
Clark turned around, watching as Jon wiped (Y/N)'s face from the excess food. Jon was praising the baby for eating all of it and tried to pick him up. Clark still helped him because Jon was still learning how to hold him.
10 months went by and Jon was officially a third parent. (Y/N) has started crawling a month ago and everyone was officially waiting for (Y/N) to start walking. Jon more so than his parents.
Jon was holding (Y/N) in his lap, talking to him about the his school day. Clark was sitting on the sofa next to the couch, reading the newspaper. (Y/N) started squirming in Jon's lap and he wanted to get off.
Jon put him down and he started to crawl. Then, all of a sudden he stopped and he tried to get up.
Jon watched in fascination. Clark put the newspapers away.
(Y/N) stood up on his little legs and slowly started walking towards Clark. He immediately got down on his knees and opened his arms.
" Come on, you got this! Come on bud. " Clark praised, cooing and smiling widely as (Y/N) was slowly walking towards him. Once (Y/N) got close, Clark picked him up, giving him kisses.
Jon cried as Clark scooped (Y/N) up. His baby brother is growing up so quickly...
" Come here Jon. Why are you crying? " Clark asked as he hugged Jon too.
" He is growing up too fast. " Jon sobbed out, hugging his father back.
Clark could barely contain his smile and laughter. He comforted Jon, telling him that it was a natural thing.
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love-liberty21 · 1 year
Text
In honor of Dracula Daily starting again, I thought I'd share with you ...
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What you need:
6 chicken drumsticks (or an entire chicken)
3 onions
4 garlic cloves
3 paprika peppers (of any color)
2 tablespoons of tomato paste
800g (1,6 lbs) peeled tomatoes
Chili powder (as you like)
100 ml (a little less than 1/2 cup of) cream
3 tea spoons of sweet paprika powder
3 tea spoons of hot paprika powder
2 tea spoons of (corn)starch
a pinch of sugar
salt & pepper
What to do:
preheat the stove to 150°C (302°F)
meanwhile, peel the onions and garlic cloves, and cut them into cubes.
Wash the paprika peppers, remove the pips and cut them into cubes as well.
Wash and dry the chicken, then sear it. Add the onions and paprika peppers, then the garlic and roast them for two minutes.
Add tomato paste and peeled tomatoes.
Add paprika powder, salt, pepper and sugar.
Add chili powder (a little, a lot ... depends on whether or not you want to have the Jonathan Harker experience of chugging water all night)
Put it in the stove in a closed pan for 2h and let it simmer.
Then take it out, add cream and make it boil while stirring.
Bind with starch.
If necessary, flavor with salt, pepper and chili powder.
Goes well with:
rice
potatoes
a salad
Have fun trying it out! Oh, and please note: the garlic used in this dish could be effective against vampiric attacks, so it's better to use too much than too little. For your safety.
(source)
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the-s1lly-corner · 10 months
Note
Playing with johnathans hair pre collider plsplspls kissing it maybe his knuckles, calling him pretty kissing his Beauty marks plsplspls pls
Showering Jonathan Ohnn in affection!
Rubs my hands
God I love prompts like this, especially with characters like jon/spot
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Even when he was still Jonathan, he still didnt have the best self image
He didnt think of himself as horribly as he does in present day, but hes... hooboy
He doesn't think he's ugly by any means, but no way does he think he's the prettiest person
He doesnt like his... everything, really
His birthmarks, his body, the way his hands are built, his nose, and so on
And then you came along
You weren't his first partner, I like to think he's managed to get some bitches(/j) in like
College
Now were those relationships anything meaningful? Did they last?
...no..
Did that leave a dent on him?
Maaaaybe just a little
So he was both ecstatic and nervous of being in a relationship again
But oh,
You melted his walls down right away, letting him know exactly how you felt about him and actually. Listened to him
Jonathan, being an overworked socially awkward scientist, doesn't get much physical touch; so he's starving
It's small at first; but even small touches can have him unraveling
Locking pinkies while you walk together, standing a lil close to one another, and so on
And dont get him started on verbal compliments
So imagine the day you decide to go a lil deeper and just
Pull his hands to your mouth, the same hands that are covered in nicks and cuts from years of work, and gently kissing his knuckles
The hands that he thinks are spindly and weird; being kissed
You may as well just marry him right then and there
But it keeps on going as time progresses
You kiss the small scars littered on his hands
Imagine seeing him scowling at the mirror while glaring at the feature of his face he doesnt like and just
You walk over to him and cup his face and just
Cover him with kisses
Specifically placed kisses, exactly where he was just glaring at
A lot of the times when you're sleeping together hes the big spoon since hes tall, but on the off chance hes little spoon? Hooboy
Absolutely refuses to get up, scoots himself closer to you, and hes almost falling asleep until
You start playing with his hair; that snaps him awake. Whether or not you have concept art Jonathan in mind or movie accurate; hes got the same reaction. He stiffens and kinda just. Freezes. Like a deer in headlights. Does he pretend to be asleep? Does he thank you? Does?? Bro short circuits
Off topic but I like to think that concept art of Jonathan going around is just. Canon movie Jonathan, but before he got a haircut. Like imagine he JUST got a haircut before the collider thing and now hes bald 😭
OOO OOOO imagine you're wearing lipstick and leave marks all over him
He will refuse to wash it off, for as long as possible
Dumbest most goofiest smile plastered on his face while you spoil him
Now I've gone on and on about you pampering him, but dont think he wouldnt try to return the favor!
He leaves quick and sloppy kisses on your cheek
Like just.. he wraps his long arms around you and lazily drapes himself over you during cuddles and. Goes to town on your face
You're both a giggly mess by the end of it
Makes you forget about the outside world; it's just you and Jonathan
Loves getting you loads of gifts; store bought and homemade! You'll probably have to tell him to slow down since you're losing space in your house <\3
As I mentioned in a previous Jonathan post (the coworker one) he drops the most foul, most cheesiest, most cliche, horrible pick up lines
Dude probably looks at wikihow stuff on like "how to impress my crush" or something like that
He absolutely LIGHTS UP whenever you indulge in his antics
Overall you two are just so sweet to each other SOBS
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queenimmadolla · 11 months
Note
For the one word prompt ♥️
Eddie, friendship, angst (i feel like being sad tn lol)
𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬
“So, that happened.” Eddie’s knuckles rapped against his knees, an obvious sign of nerves.
The two of you were in Nancy Wheeler’s basement, surrounded by junk food and atrocious party hats to celebrate Argyle’s birthday. Pizza had arrived a couple of minutes ago, and everyone had suddenly decided eating upstairs was more appealing. Everyone, except you.
Your stomach was still turning from the event that took place three days ago. That, coupled with the other person involved also being in attendance of your friend group’s get together made for some unsettling waves in your belly. Some alone time would have been beneficial.
Then Eddie came back down before the rest of them and you wanted to die.
“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, gaze focused on the television where Kim Carnes was so aesthetically crooning out about Bette Davis’ eyes, “I didn’t think they’d actually do it. Pretty sure they shaved a couple of years off their lifespan.”
Jonathan and Argyle, both cross faded, decided it would be a good idea to see who could handle eating a spoonful of salt better. Jonathan had coughed his out and stated his chest hurt.
“You know I wasn’t talking about that.”
You could feel the heavy weight of his gaze, face heating up while you picked at your nail polish.
When you didn’t say anything else, you heard him sigh and sink further into his chair.
“We slept together, Bits. That’s a pretty big fucking deal.”
Oh god. Why’d he have to say it outloud?
“I know, I was there.” You snapped, recalling how you’d gone over to his trailer to return a cassette of his—like you’d done a hundred damn times—with not a single fucking ulterior motive, and ended sweaty, naked and plastered to Eddie well into the night and early morning.
See, you had no trouble blowing a single moment of weakness over, that wouldn’t destroy your friendship. Make it a little awkward for a couple of days, but you’d be fine.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t been a single time. The two of you had reached for each other throughout the night and he’d been inside you for a large majority of that time.
You’d internally freaked the fuck out when you woke up, but Eddie was a heavy sleeper so you’d been able to make a quiet escape. Once you realized how much trouble that could have caused, you’d gone back over to Eddie’s only to see Steve’s car parked out front, and you’d overheard the conversation between the two through his open bedroom window, with Eddie stating he’d been glad you left in the morning.
You didn’t stick around after that.
“Not for long,” came his catty reply and you finally glared at him to find him already scowling right back; eyebrows pinched, chocolate brown eyes hardened and irritation written clearly all over his face.
“What do you want me to say? We both already know it shouldn’t have happened, so why talk about it?”
Eddie felt a sharp pang in his chest, but he refused to allow you to see how vulnerable he really was, not if you’d be breaking his heart tonight.
He’d been ecstatic when it happened, when you kept wanting him. The group would constantly tease him about you, all of them sure you would inevitably get together but Eddie was a pessimist. You’d been friends for a while and yeah—sometimes, it felt like you wanted the hugs the two of you would exchange to last as long as he did, but he never caught you staring. It was always the other way around and his wishful thinking would only get him hurt.
Then it wasn’t wishful, not that night. All Eddie knew was bliss and the pessimist in him was happy to retire until he’d woken up and you were gone. He felt a mixture of emotions and called Steve over to vent; while he was somewhat relieved you’d gone home—simply because he was terrified he would have said something stupid by talking out of his ass with nerves and end up driving you away—Eddie was eager to see you again but anxious on what to say.
With the pep talk from Steve, and how the two of you were obviously meant to be if the universe had finally brought you together like this, Eddie was ready for the talk.
Except, it didn't happen because you’d been actively avoiding him. He knew what that meant. Pessimist, remember?
“Because if we don’t talk about it, I’m afraid you won’t talk to me again.”
Your stiff posture relaxed, guilt sinking into your bones because you knew he was right, you had been ready to avoid anything but small talk with him and you hated it because he was one of your friends. You would have been in the wrong because you couldn’t face the consequences of your actions.
But. But, but, but…you knew you would have caved.
Eventually.
“That’s not true, Eddie.”
“Isn’t it?”
God, you also hated how he seemingly knew the way this conversation would play out, expecting every single one of your responses.
“It’s not,” you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, vulnerability was not something you liked to share. You liked to be the upbeat, chipper, groovy friend. Even when you weren’t. It was easy that way, keeping everything to yourself, “This is so embarrassing to say, given what got us into this, but I can’t stay away from you. You’re my friend and our friendship means everything to me.”
Eddie was your friend, who didn’t want you. Not like you wanted him. And he didn’t have to.
“I don’t want to lose you, Bits.” Eddie’s resolve melted away, no longer was he the intimidating metal head who looked unapproachable. He was your friend again, “Especially, over this.”
Over you not wanting him; not wanting to kiss him, not wanting to intertwine your fingers, not wanting to sleep in his bed, not wanting to love him the way he loved you. It hurt. 
It hurt like hell and he felt like he was bleeding out but if it meant you’d stay in his life, he’d bleed out for the rest of it. 
“I don’t want to lose you, either, Eddie. Can we please be Bits and Eds again? Without the hormones ruining it?”
What you meant was, can you please forget about how nice I said it was to have you hold me?
You could see how glassy his eyes were and you were sure yours were no better. 
He gave you a small smile, arms opening up for a hug, “Of course.”
What Eddie meant to say was, I should’ve dealt with the awkward morning after and been awake to keep you from leaving. 
When you got up to curl into his lap for a hug–heart aching–the thought of how nice it was to be in his arms popped up again.
You shot that thought down and blew the smoke away from the barrel, your own heart bleeding in your hands.
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farfaras · 1 year
Text
I think I got an ex but I forgot him
Part 1.
Part 2. (You’re here!)
Part 3.
-
They came up with ground rules, boundaries were important and whatnot. However, they didn’t plan on doing this for long, so they also had to come up with a believable storyline for the future course of the relationship.
This is what they have so far:
Only Dustin knew, it would stay that way. For now.
Hugs and holding hands was okay.
Pet names that were allowed included: babe, baby, honey… and that’s about it.
This will last only one or two months to really sell it.
No kisses required.
As for the storyline. That was a little bit harder to come up with. Obviously the timeline was a no brainer. They got together two weeks after Jonathan and Nancy broke up. Jonathan tried to protest. “That makes me look bad.” “Yeah well, you dating me overall makes you look bad.” “Makes you look weird, then.” “Whatever.” But they didn’t have too many options, it was that or the literal last week. And call them paranoid, but Steve thinks Dustin would see through that.
When that was out of the way, they planned the way their (fake) relationship would go wrong. “Maybe I realized I was a rebound.” “Do you want Dustin to hate me?”
At the end, what they agreed on wasn’t even that far off. They came up with phases they had to complete. Hopefully they would be able to showcase that Jonathan started dating Steve because he was supposedly just lonely and needed someone, he didn’t realize what he was doing and didn’t mean to hurt Steve. They would say they talked it out and decided to stay friends because that would be for the best. No hard feelings.
Phase one. Jonathan being an attentive and affectionate boyfriend. Steve gushing about it to Dustin.
Phase two. Jonathan spends less time with Steve. Steve starts saying he misses him now and again.
Phase three. Jonathan acts distant. Steve is freaking out.
Phase four and final. Jonathan realizes his mistake and ends things.
It was almost foolproof! And they only had to really fake in front of one person, so it shouldn’t be that hard. Steve didn’t want Jonathan to come out just because Steve needed a favor. This seemed like the best way to do it.
-
They were hanging out in Jonathan’s room, everything was set and all they needed to do now was act like a couple in front of Dustin and stand a little closer when they were in bigger groups if Dustin was there.
Easy.
But for another day. All they wanted to do right now was just chill.
Steve heard someone knocking on the front door. It was incessant and loud. They wanted to have a chill night but whoever was there, was starting to get annoying.
“Aren’t you gonna…?” Steve pointed to the direction the sound was coming from. “Are you gonna get the door? Are you expecting someone?”
“Nah, ‘s probably a salesman or something. They’re annoying but they’ll be gone soon.” Jonathan muttered, and he really didn’t seem at all bothered by the persisting knocking.
They heard Will come out of his room. “Seriously!” Teenage irritation and disdain. Classic. Looks like he’s gonna get the door.
As soon as the door opened, they heard a familiar voice. What was Dustin doing here?! Was he here to ask Jonathan about Steve? If that’s the case thank god Steve got to Jonathan before Dustin. This kid is something else.
“Is Jonathan here?”
“Wha- he’s in his room. Why?”
“I need to talk to him for a bit. Alone.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Just- I’ll go to your room later.”
Oh Dustin really is here to talk to Jonathan.
Steve jumped in the bed and turned to Jonathan. “Quick. Cuddle me.”
Confusion was all over Jon’s face. “Huh?”
“Dustin is coming, just do it!” He whispered.
“Ugh. Harrington.” Complained Jon.
“That’s babe to you. And you said hugs were fine. Cuddles are just long hugs, come on.” Steve laid in the bed next to Jonathan.
Jonathan turned him so he could spoon him. Steve has never been the little spoon before, but it was kinda nice. They were settling when they heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Asked Jon.
“Dustin, can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure.”
When he opened the door his eyes looked like saucers. “Oh my god, it’s true.”
Steve just raised an eyebrow at his antics. He closed the door and sat down in the chair by the desk. “You guys are actually dating.” Dustin whispered-yelled.
“What? You didn’t believe me?”
“I’m a scientist! I need proof to believe stuff!”
Steve and Jonathan got up and sat down by the edge of the bed. They were pressed together, thighs and shoulders touching. Jonathan took his hand and laced their fingers together. “You don’t have a problem with it, do you?” Jonathan asked. He’s a better actor than he thought, he looks protective. Although this is another coming out for him, Steve thinks he’s handling it really well.
“No, no! I already told Steve I don’t care. I just kinda had to confirm it because… well I kinda want to talk about something.” Suddenly Dustin looked wary, hesitant to continue.
“Okay?” This was unexpected. Both Dustin being here and the imminent serious conversation he wanted to have based on his expression alone.
The teen took a deep breath. “First of all I wanted to ask you guys something.” He looked at them expectantly, as if asking for permission to continue. Which was so bizarre because this kid says everything and anything that goes through his mind. Steve nodded. “Are you planning on, you know, telling our friends? The party?” Why would he want to know that?
“Um.” Steve glanced at his fake boyfriend. “No, not really. At least not for a while” Jonathan just nodded at what he said.
“I think you should do it.”
“Huh?” Jonathan paled. Steve understood, that was a big thing. And sure Dustin didn’t seem to be taking it lightly but he still doesn’t understand what something like that can feel like.
“Dustin, I don’t think you get to have an opinion on that.” Steve tried to sound firm.
“No, I know just. I think it might be a good thing. Listen, maybe you’re aware of this or maybe you aren’t.” Dustin leaned in as if he was gonna share a secret. “Someone in our party is having a hard time with their… sexuality. At least I think so. I think seeing a happy gay couple could be good for them. To show that there’s hope or some shit.” He was almost eloquent, if it wasn’t for that slip at the end.
The supposed couple looked at each other, processing what the younger boy just said to them. Steve doesn’t know if Jonathan is out to Will, or vice versa. Steve is not dumb, he sees the way Will looks at Mike sometimes. It was the same way his brother looked at Nancy. It had to be hard, being so young and feeling so alone. Will had to be the person Dustin was talking about, right? The only other gay friend Steve knows they have is Robin, and Dustin has no idea she’s gay if we take into account that he wanted to set her up with Steve not long ago.
“We’ll think about it.” Steve heard Jon say. He was surprised, it looked like Jon was considering it.
“I can assure you our friends will be okay with it. And seeing that might encourage this person to come out! I really think they need the support and I wanna give it to them but I don’t know how.” Gosh. He looked so pained about not being able to comfort Will. Dustin is a really good friend.
“As Jon said, we’ll think about it.”
“O-okay. Thanks.” Dustin got up and exited the room, presumably to go to Will’s.
When they were sure he was in another room they separated and inhaled deeply.
“What do you think?” Steve asked.
“I hadn’t… thought about that.” His hands were in his lap and he looked at the door. “I’m gonna assume you know who he was talking about.”
“I’ve… had my suspicions.” Steve ventured. “Will has been looking sad lately.”
“Yeah. Maybe Dustin’s right. Could be a good thing.” He still looked a bit nervous about the whole idea.
“We don’t have to though.”
“I think we should.”
“Really?” Steve didn’t want to pressure Jon, but he also thought it would be good for Will. That kid needs support but he needs to feel comfortable enough to ask for it. No one knows how he would react if they just dumped on him the information that he’s not as subtle as he thinks.
“Yeah. How hard can it be? Same plan just, more people are gonna know.” Jon smiled. “And Will might feel better. I’d do anything for him.” Will was lucky to have such a caring brother.
Steve grinned mischievously. “We might have to revisit the kissing rule, though.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes and smacked him with his pillow.
———
This is a bit shorter than the last one, sorry about that.
I think I might post a chapter once a week.
Also, the tag list is getting really long! I don’t know if I’ll be adding more to the list.
Thanks for reading. Ps. Eddie might finally be in the next chapter. Watch out.
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