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#neighbors
grickle14 · 8 months
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Destiny. 
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beans-the-orange-cat · 6 months
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Meet Franklin! He’s our neighbor that likes to come visit Beans. I think we know more of the neighborhood cats by name than actual neighbors 😂
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fluffymaxsworld · 5 months
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i am so in love with simon riley, so here’s (another) fic<3
“neighbors”
[neighbors, wife material reader, fluff<33]
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“morning”
“hello”
the brief interactions you and your next door neighbor, simon, had were so miserable. occasional smiles and pleasantries, but just when your eyes met his. quick hellos and polite waves, something the both of you didn’t care about.
he worked in the military, a cold, stern man, he never took part at the meetings between the neighborhood. he was good looking, no one ever said the opposite, but his mysterious demeanor was something girls didn’t wish of. sometimes he also disappeared for weeks and people swore they had see him with a skull mask.
on the other hand, you were a sweet girl, outgoing and caring, even for your grumpy neighbor.
that’s why you two met.
it was a cold friday, the apartments were silent like always. you decided to prepare cookies to “match the mood” so you left the house to buy the ingredients. on your way back you noticed simon. he was struggling with searching his keys in front of his door.
“you dropped them” you smiled sweetly, breaking the silence and pointing at the couple of keys on the floor.
in response he nodded, picking them up.
well, he wasn’t your best friend, but at least he could’ve said a short “thanks”.
“you’re back from another mission?” you asked him.
“yeah” he quickly replied, almost impatient of locking himself inside his house.
“you’re a great man. bye.” you waved and entered your apartment.
he nodded again and closed his door.
weirdo.
well, whatever, time for cookies!
in a couple of hours you baked at least a dozen of chocolate chips cookies. and what a kind soul like yours would do with half of them?
you packed a basket full of cookies and opened the door. you knocked twice at simon’s and waited for a reply.
“who’s there?” the deep voice asked.
“neighbor!” you replied lively.
he opened his door and looked at you. his big, muscular figure was… something else.
“i baked cookies, want some?” you said, handing him the chest.
“you sure?” he looked quite surprised, “i mean, thanks”
“i just thought you needed them, i mean, you’re in the military!” you said it almost jokingly, but you believe that he deserved to be cared about.
“thank you, really. do you want to grab a coffee?”
he invited you over. simon riley, feared man, skull-masked, military guy, invited you over to drink coffee and eat cookies.
“yeah, sure!” you nodded, how could you decline?
you stepped in, looking around.
his apartment was similar to yours in space terms, but completely the opposite when it comes to the arrangements.
the walls were a soft grey, a white couch filled the living room and a wooden table with a couple of chairs was almost hidden between the entry and a huge library full of books, military books, you guessed.
then you saw it, the famous skull mask everyone talked about. you thought it was a myth, something people invented because they were bored, but here it was, white plastic-like skull and black tissue.
“curious?” he interrupted your thought as he took the mask, “if you wonder if the rumors are true, yeah, it’s mine. i wear it during missions”
“oh, cool” you said, looking at it.
“are you scared of me?” he asked you, a unreadable tone in his dark voice.
“scared? why?” a half giggle escaped your mouth.
“the mask. the military thing. isn’t it scary?”
“i don’t think so. you’re interesting and being in the military should be a boast!” you sat down on the table, handing him one of the cookies.
he took one and bit into it, “tastes good.” he smirked slightly, “and thank you, by the way. i guess im not really liked here…”
“you shouldn’t care about what they think. they’re just idiots” you reassured him.
“well, i don’t have time to care. missions and work are my only priority right now” he sighed, biting on the cookie.
it almost sent you shivers. he doesn’t have nobody to wait him after his missions, his appearance scares away all the neighborhood. he needs a wife.
“do you have a partner?” you asked him, trying to sound nonchalant.
“why? wanna ask me out?” he joked, but you flushed a little, “no, i don’t. i don’t think i need a partner”
you avoided his fulminating gaze and kept talking, “man, you need a girl, believe me.”
“i don’t have time for stupid sloppy things like that. that’s for idiots”
“mmh, i don’t think so.” you said, giggling softly.
he let out a subtle laugh, looking at you, “i haven’t found the right woman yet, then”
“you’ll find someone, trust me”
and that’s how you and simon became close friends. every now and then, when he came back from missions, you were waiting for him with a basket full of cookies, muffins or a whole cake and a bright smile on your face.
and how bad, because he was starting to fall in love. in love with your eyes, hair, smile, oh, your smile. you drove him crazy. he felt cared about. when he was out for a mission he didn’t think only about coming back home alive, but coming back home alive for you. you made him dream in something when he was at his low.
it’s a snowy night, you baked a couple of muffins for simon. it’s been a month since he left for the mission and you really missed him. usually you knock at his door around 7pm, a quietly chosen appointment each time he would’ve come back home.
but not today, no, because you heard a knock.
“simon!” you smiled and opened the door.
“it’s been-” you couldn’t finish the sentence as he pulled you closer into a hug, a warm tight hug.
as you draw close, your bodies press together, creating a feeling of warmth and closeness. in that moment, your hearts synchronize, and the world around you seems to fade away.
“simon? are you okay?” you chuckled softly.
he buried his face deeper into your neck, your smell intoxicating him.
“i’m not great with words, y’know…” he started, “i… well, y’know, i’ve been away for awhile. i’ve risked my life more than once, and all i could think about was you. and i’m scared i could die without admitting what you made me feel”
“simon…” you looked at him, noticing his brown eyes full of worry and confusion.
“i’ve fallen for you, completely, deeply, insanely. you drive me crazy, you’re all i can think about. and i know i’m not the best man you’ll-”
you pulled him closer into a kiss, your lips finding his. you closed your eyes, he closed his, lost in the moment. you could feel your heart race faster, your body tingle in excitement. you shyly brought your hand to his cheeks, exploring his face, tracing the scars that his face was full of.
“i’ve been waiting for you” you whispered between the kisses.
“i love you” he finally said, his voice deeper than the usual and their eyes fixated on yours.
“i love you too, simon riley”
IM SO SORRY ITS SO MESSED UP BUT I NEED A DAMN BREAAAAK!!!
love y’all anyways :))
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one-time-i-dreamt · 5 months
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I lived on my parents' farm and the neighbors stole half our field and our shed. The government wouldn't help us get it back, so we hooked it up to a tractor and dragged it back into our yard.
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allthelovehes · 8 days
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The Author*
Summary: You just moved into your new apartment and your new neighbour turns out to be the author of the smutty book you're currently reading.
Pairing: Author/Neighbour!Harry x Reader
Word count: 2.8K
Warnings: Smut, basically strangers, it's cute tho.
Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗
Support my work by joining my Patreon!
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The first few weeks of living in your new apartment were, thankfully, relatively uneventful. You had managed to find a new job and keep your finances balanced, and the building you were in seemed to be relatively clean and well-maintained, and you'd never seen anyone who you thought would have a problem with you.
You travel back and forth between work by bus, not really feeling the need to have a car in the big city. Plus it gives you the perfect opportunity to read a good book, something you love but always slips in the cracks of your busy life.
It's the last day of work before your weekend, and you're on the bus home deep into a chapter of the book you're reading, everything is going perfectly fine. You're excited for the weekend as you still have a few boxes to unpack and some cleaning and organization that needs to get done.
You've been so into the book you're reading, that when you realize the bus just drove past your usual stop, you're shocked.
“Oh, shit.” You mutter under your breath as you try to think of what to do. You could just walk the few blocks back to your stop, the weather is fine anyway. You press the button, the bus comes to a halt at the next stop and you step off, thanking the driver for the ride. You begin walking, a tote on your shoulder and the book still in hand.
The streets aren't busy, it's not a particularly busy part of the city, and it's a beautiful afternoon. The sun is shining and there is a slight breeze, but not too much. You can hear the birds chirping and see the small kids playing in the nearby park, all in all a nice day.
You reach your building after a few minutes of walking, and the front door is unlocked and ajar, so you let yourself in and start to head towards the stairwell. When you reach the right floor, you spot your neighbour coming out of their apartment, the one you had seen the first night you'd arrived.
He was tall, much taller than you, and wearing a t-shirt that clung to his form nicely, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal a collection of tattoos that ran all the way down to his hands. His hair was curly and looked incredibly soft and you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. His jaw was chiselled, sporting a stubble. He looked good, really good.
“Hey.” He says, his voice deep and smooth, and you can't help but notice the accent he has. “I haven't seen you around before, are you the new neighbour?”
“Yeah, I moved in a couple of weeks ago.” You reply. “My name is Y/N.”
“It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Harry.” He extends a hand and you shake it. You notice the rings on his fingers, they're large, but not tacky, and they suit him. He looks at the book in your other hand and chuckles, “A reader, eh?”
“Yeah, I've always loved reading, and this one is really good, I've been wanting to finish it, so I'm glad I missed my stop, I was so deep into the story I hadn't even noticed.” You chuckle and it's then when Harry notices what book you have in hand, his book.
“Hey, wait a second. You're reading my book!” He points at the cover.
“Oh, you wrote this? Well, now I feel kinda embarrassed.” You say, laughing, trying to hide the embarrassment and your blushing cheeks. The story is based around quite a few explicit sex scenes, and you're hoping he won't bring it up.
“I'm just messing with ya. I'm actually quite flattered.” He chuckles.
You talk for a few more minutes and then go on your way. He is funny and kind, and his smile is one that you know you would kill to see. His eyes are bright, and you love the way his curls move when he laughs.
As you make your way to your apartment, you're smiling to yourself, thinking about how good-looking your new neighbour is. He seems kind and easy-going, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to spend more time with him.
When you get to your apartment, you drop your things, kick off your shoes and throw yourself onto your sofa. You sigh and close your eyes, taking a moment to process the day, and what just happened.
Knowing the man who came up with those incredible sex scenes was living right across the hall from you, is driving you absolutely wild. You're not sure why you're reacting the way you are, you have no business thinking about him like that. But he's just so fucking hot, and his accent, and his body, and the way his arms looked...
You feel your skin begin to heat up, and a tingling between your legs, and before you even realise, your hand is down the front of your jeans. You start touching yourself, and all you can think of is him, and the words he has written. Your breathing becomes heavier and you close your eyes, imagining him doing these things to you, his lips and hands exploring your body.
You're abruptly ripped from your fantasy by a knock on the door, and you jump and scramble to pull your hand from your pants.
“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, and run your fingers through your hair, trying to get it to look presentable. You look through the peephole in the door and your eyes widen, there stands Harry, and he's holding a bottle of wine. You take a deep breath and open the door, trying to appear as composed as possible.
“Oh, hi.” You say, smiling, but you're nervous. “What can I do for you, Harry?”
“Hey, Y/N, I just came to drop off some wine.” He seems nervous. “I figured since you're new it'd be a nice thing to do.”
“That's very sweet of you, thank you.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” He turns and starts to walk back to his own apartment.
“Harry, wait!” You shout, and he turns back to face you.
“Yes, love?” His British accent thick.
“Do you want to come in? I'll pour us some wine.”
“Yeah, that'd be lovely.” He follows you into the apartment. You take the wine from him and pour two glasses. You hand him the glass and sit down next to him, making sure to keep some distance between you.
You chat for a while, sipping your wine, and you find yourself enjoying his company. He tells you about his writing and how he's working on another book, and that he's glad that you've enjoyed the one he already published. You tell him about yourself, about how much you love to read, and he tells you he'll send you copies of the other books he has published.
The wine is flowing, and so is the conversation. Harry is really nice, and you find yourself wanting to spend more time with him. The bottle is empty and your cheeks are flushed, but not just from the alcohol.
“Well, I should probably head home.” Harry says, and the disappointment is evident on your face.
“No, don't leave yet.” You protest, and his eyes lock with yours. “I'm enjoying your company.”
“Well, alright. I can stay a bit longer.” He says, smiling.
You're not sure why, but you feel compelled to lean forward and kiss him. Maybe it's the wine, or the fact that he's just so fucking hot, or the stories and sex scenes in the book he had written. You're not sure, but something is driving you crazy, and you need him. Your lips crash against his, and it takes a moment for him to register what's happening. But when he kisses back, your heart flutters and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults.
You pull away and stare at him for a moment, and he looks at you with a mixture of lust and surprise in his eyes.
“Sorry.” You mutter. “I shouldn't have-“
He cuts you off by leaning in and kissing you again, this time deeper, and more passionate. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and your tongues collide, tasting each other. He pulls away and stares into your eyes, his lips slightly swollen and a smirk on his face.
“You're a good kisser.” He whispers.
“So are you.” You reply, a smile spreading across your lips.
He leans back in, kissing you more roughly than before, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. He begins trailing kisses down your neck and jawline, eliciting small whimpers and moans from you. He makes his way down your collarbones and chest, then moves back up to your ear.
“Y/N.” He whispers. “May I take this off?”
“Please.” You reply, almost begging. He grabs the bottom of your shirt and pulls it over your head, revealing the lacy bra underneath. He stares at your breasts for a moment, drinking them in, before he dives down and sucks at the exposed skin. He moves to your other breast and does the same, and his other hand begins to unbutton his own shirt.
He removes his shirt, revealing his tattoos, and you can't help but stare. He has a slim yet muscular frame, and his arms are toned and strong. You trace the ink on his chest and torso with your fingers, and he watches your reaction with a smirk.
He stands up and grabs your waist, picking you up and setting you on the kitchen island. He leans down and kisses you again, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You can feel his erection through his jeans, and it's big, really big. You can't help but let out a moan at the thought of him fucking you with that monster.
He reaches around and unclasps your bra, pulling it off and exposing your breasts. He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at it, while his hand plays with the other. You throw your head back and moan, grabbing at his curls and tugging slightly. He lets out a groan and grinds his hips against yours, and you can feel his cock harden even more.
“Harry.” You moan. “I want you.”
He removes his mouth from your breast and looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust.
“Are you sure, love?” He asks, his accent sending shivers down your spine.
“Yes, please.” You beg, and he smirks. You're so eager and it's making him impossibly harder. He undoes his belt and his pants fall to the floor. You stare at his cock hiding in his black boxers, and your mouth waters. It's long and thick, and you know that it's going to feel amazing. He pulls off his boxers, and his cock springs free, standing proudly.
He grabs your jeans and tugs them down, revealing the matching pair of lace panties. He groans as he looks at you, and his fingers hook under the fabric, pulling them down your legs.
“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking beautiful.” He breathes, taking in the sight of you. You're completely naked and exposed in front of him, and he can't help but marvel at how perfect you are. He leans in and kisses you, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him close. He grinds his hips against yours, his cock rubbing against your wetness. He's teasing you, and it's driving you insane.
“Harry, please.” You whine, and he smirks.
“Please, what?” He teases, continuing his slow grinding.
“Please fuck me.”
He groans and searches for his wallet, finding a condom. He slides it on and lines his cock up with your entrance, pushing in slowly. He fills you up completely, and you cry out, arching your back. He lets you adjust to his size before he starts moving. He sets a slow and steady pace, and you're moaning and whimpering.
“Fuck, Harry.” You gasp. “You're so big.”
“You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He groans. He thrusts his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you. You reach down and begin rubbing your clit, and the extra stimulation has you seeing stars. No wonder the smut in his books is good, the man himself knows exactly what he's doing.
His pace quickens and his breathing becomes laboured. He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing the sounds that escape your mouth. He picks you up from the countertop and carries you over to the sofa, never breaking his rhythm. He lays you down and continues pounding into you, and you can feel the pressure building.
“Harry, I'm so close.” You moan, and he reaches down to rub your clit.
“Come for me, baby.” He growls, and that's all it takes for you to come undone. You scream his name and arch your back as the orgasm rips through you. He keeps his pace, thrusting harder and faster, prolonging your pleasure.
When you come down from your high, he pulls out and grabs your legs, flipping you onto your stomach. He positions himself behind you and pushes back in, causing you both to moan. His hands grip your hips and he begins pounding into you, and his grunts fill the room.
“Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking tight.” He groans, his voice thick with lust.
“Oh, god, Harry.” You moan. The sound of skin slapping skin and the scent of sex fills the air. He reaches around and starts rubbing your clit, and the pleasure is almost too much for you to handle. He thrusts his hips, filling you completely.
“Come for me again, love.” He commands.
“Yes, Harry, fuck.” You cry out, your walls tightening around his cock. You know that anyone passing by your apartment would definitely hear the sounds of sex, but you don't care. The only thing that matters is the feeling of him inside you.
You come undone once more, and he fucks you through your orgasm. He moans, his thrusts becoming erratic. You turn him on so much, he never wants to stop fucking you. His cock slides out of you and he pulls you back up, turning you around to face him.
“I want you to ride me, love.” He growls, his voice deep and rough. You straddle him, your wetness coating his cock. He positions himself at your entrance and you slide down, moaning as he fills you again. You start moving, your hips rocking against his.
“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moans, and his hands grip your hips, guiding you. Your pace quickens and you can feel yourself getting close again. You look at him and his eyes are filled with lust and desire, and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.
Harry's lips crash into yours and his hands tangle in your hair. He breaks the kiss and his mouth moves to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. You let out a string of curses and he groans against your neck. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He nibbles and sucks on it, and his tongue swirls around it.
“Fuck, Harry.” You moan.
“Do you like that, love?” He asks, looking up at you with dark eyes.
“Yes, fuck, yes.” You reply, your voice wavering.
He continues his assault on your breasts, switching from one to the other. Your breathing is heavy and you can feel the pressure building again.
“Harry, I'm so close.” You breathe.
“Me too, baby. Come for me.” He growls, his fingers rubbing your clit. The combination of his cock filling you his mouth on your nipples and his fingers stroking your clit sends you over the edge, and you scream his name, your nails digging into his shoulders.
Your walls clench around his cock and he loses it, his thrusts become more erratic, and his breathing is laboured. He moans your name, and the sound is like music to your ears. He comes hard, and his cock pulses inside you.
You both collapse, breathing heavily. Your heart is racing and you can't believe what just happened. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You lie there in his arms, trying to catch your breath, the scent of sex and sweat filling the air.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Harry says, breaking the silence. “That was incredible.”
“Mhm, you're far better than your books.”
“Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it.” He chuckles. You snuggle into his arms, and he holds you tight. You've never felt so safe and secure in someone's arms, and you know that you're already falling for him.
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xspeter · 28 days
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soon :)
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todayontumblr · 1 year
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soapskneebrace · 4 months
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@ceilidho tagged me in a wip challenge, i think it's a 1k word thing? (checks notes) Oh it's WIP Wednesday!
no pressure tags: @smoggyfogbottom @lunarvicar @391780
Meanwhile, have 1k of a gangbang I may or may not finish. Set in the neighborsverse but completely noncanon. Or is it??? (It isn't.)
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“That comfortable, love?” John asks as he adjusts the blindfold. “Not too tight?”
“Feels fine,” you say, blinking against the fabric. 
The silhouettes of the other men are dim through the weave, but you can pick each one out by where they are sitting from before John tied your eyes. Ghost is leaning against the front door, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Soap is sprawled across John’s couch, and you know he’s still wearing that rakish grin. And Gaz has his elbows on the back of John’s armchair, drumming his fingers against the cushion.
All of them have their eyes on you. You don’t need to see it to know. You can feel it. Their gazes on you, as you sit kneeled on the rug, are every bit as tangible as the warm air that billows from the radiator across your bare skin. You are in a filmy, sleeveless dress, and nothing else.
“Rules of the game,” says John, fingers lightly tracing the sides of your neck, “you have to figure out which of my men is which. If you do, we get to move on. If you don’t, you have to try again.”
You nod. “Yes, John.”
Someone takes in a breath. “Shite.” You’re pretty sure it’s Soap. You don’t hide your smile.
“Meanwhile, you lot have your orders,” John addresses the other men. “And you know I’ll step in if I have to. She’s also got her killswitch if she needs it. Don’t you, love?”
“Benzo,” you relay obediently. 
Someone snorts. “The ex? Really?” Gaz says aloud.
“It’s a pill,” you reply sweetly. “There’s no relation.”
“Sure, hen,” Soap chuckles, “and I sailed a banana boat down the Clyde.”
“English, Johnny.”
“Awa’ an bile yer heid!”
You feel John press his lips to your hair, feel him cup your jaw on both sides with long fingers. “I’ll be here the whole time,” he murmurs.
Heat pools in the pit of your stomach, begins to seep into your skin. Your pulse is a steady, strong beat behind the drum of your breastbone. “Yes, John.”
You know he’s given the men a signal to begin, because Soap rises from the couch to approach you.
John’s hands leave your neck and travel, flat and fingers spread, down your back as a new pair cradles your face. Fingertips trace the outlines of your browbone, press into the hinge of your jaw as warm lips brush teasingly against yours, breath fanning across your mouth.
You part your lips to let out a shaky sigh, and that’s when he kisses you, firm and playful. The hands slide from your face to the sides of your neck, encircling as the thumbs press into the soft underside of your chin, while the tip of his tongue grazes the edge of your teeth. It’s a kiss that knows it’s getting seconds, and wants to make sure you look forward to it.
Soap pulls away, dragging his hands up your neck and along your jaw before his touch retreats.
“Gaz,” you pretend to guess.
“Wrong,” John murmurs. He presses his mouth against your bare shoulder, and you can feel him smile. “Next.”
Next is Gaz, who kisses you without preamble, hands resting on your hips and squeezing. He’s smiling, too, and rather than one kiss he gives you several, tiny pecks from one corner of your mouth to the other that are unexpectedly ticklish.
You can’t help your giggle, and you know if you get them all wrong the jig will be up. “Alright, that’s Gaz.”
“All day,” says the sergeant, a laugh in his tone. He kisses you again for getting it right, his hands ascending to squeeze you around the waist, and then he retreats.
Ghost comes to you then, and he does not touch you. Even on his knees, he towers over you, and you feel his hands brace on either side of your thighs as he leans down to your level. You can’t feel his breath on your face, but you can feel his eyes as he looks at you.
He leans in a moment later, and presses his mouth very softly to your chin.
“Oh,” you breathe, tender and trembling at the gentleness.
“S’alright,” John says over your shoulder, low and rumbling, and you know he’s not talking to you. His hands are warm and soothing on your low back. “She likes it just like that. Go on.”
Then Ghost’s lips press to yours, feather-light, coaxing, moving along the contours of your mouth. You can’t help leaning into it, magnetized, and when you do Ghost seems to get more comfortable—he kisses you harder, one big hand cupping the back of your neck, his tongue easing between your teeth to stroke your own. A moan leaves you, completely unbidden, low and needy.
“Christ,” Soap says. You hear the sound of a hand against fabric, and your whole body throbs when you realize he’s rubbing himself over his trousers.
“How’s this supposed to be a game if you give it away, sergeant?” Price grouses.
You laugh against Ghost’s mouth, and he rewards you for it with the slide of his hand into your hair, gripping firm at the root as he tilts your head and licks deeper into your mouth. Your hands come up to steady yourself on the broad plane of his chest, his pectorals flexing beneath your palms. You can barely breathe as he practically drinks from you, his lips wet and noisy against yours.
“Jesus, LT, you’re just going for it,” Gaz says, clearly impressed.
Ghost finally pulls away, and you pant for oxygen as he breathes evenly, seemingly unaffected. “Someone’s got to show you muppets how to do it.”
Price’s hand strokes over the hair that Ghost had mussed. “Watch yourself.”
“Sad you can’t join in, Cap?” Soap laughs. “Wouldn’t be fair, would it? You could pick him out right away, aye, hen?”
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1d1195 · 1 year
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Neighbors I
For my 🐱 anon I hope you like it. It's gonna have to be multiple parts. I've really enjoyed writing it so far!
Warning: lots of fluff and pining. Very domestic Harry stuff.
Harry was glad she asked because he would do anything for her and he was glad she felt comfortable asking for such an intimate thing. Harry knew being a single mum was a challenge like no other. He wanted her to have the world and he would help however he could.
Harry was suffering.
It had been two weeks since he last spoke to her. At first, he thought he was imagining the lack of communication. He even convinced himself that it wasn’t anything to do with him. She was busy. Her mum came to visit. She was visiting her brother. Rory was on a play date while she was at work today. Another mum asked her to babysit, and she brought Rory to play while she did.
Harry was sitting by his front window, looking out to the street and saw her adorable little home just right there. But she wasn’t. Neither was Rory. He missed them both so much and it made him think about the day he moved in and saw the sweet girl and her little boy playing in the front yard.
*
Harry was on his phone video chatting with his mum and sister when he pulled into the driveway. He was showing off his little house that he had gotten all to himself, and he was so proud and happy. It was going to be his place where he could be and do whatever he wanted and not have to worry about anyone else.
Except for the most adorable neighbors he could have asked for.
“Hi!” A tiny shout came from out of thin air. Harry was mid-sentence chatting with his family when he spun to see the little boy waving enthusiastically from across the street.
“Oh, Harry he’s so cute,” Gemma cooed from his phone.
Harry was so startled by the little voice he forgot his camera was showing off the whole neighborhood. “Hi there,” Harry waved his free hand as the little boy’s mother knelt beside him and whispered something in his ear with smile and she fluttered her fingers at Harry gently. He wasn’t sure what he said, but the little boy threw his hand over his mouth and he swore he saw her mouth ‘sorry’ and she must have explained Harry was on the phone to the little one once more because he put his finger to his lips to keep quiet.
“I think I have t’meet the neighbors,” he told his mum and sister with a smirk.
“Try not to fall in love with the first girl you lay eyes on,” Gemma said knowingly but the glint in her eye was saying anything but the words that left her mouth. She knew her brother was one to fall in love quickly. Especially if he was going to be in close proximity to the sweet looking girl she could only barely make out on the grainy video call.
“Or her son,” his mum replied with the same glint in her eye as Gemma. Harry had such a soft spot for children. He was good with them and adored them immediately. Little ones liked how tall he was and marveled at it. He chuckled shyly and shook his head as he headed across the street. He hung up on the only women in his life up until that very moment where the whole trajectory of his life changed meeting his new neighbor.
“Hi,” he said with a smile so bright it warmed her thoroughly—Harry looked like pure sunshine. She was still crouched beside the little one and she was lucky she had her son to distract her a bit from the beautiful sight of him.
“Hi,” she answered and wrinkled her nose at the boy in her arms. “Are you shy suddenly?” She asked the little boy and squeezed his sides making him giggle and try to hide his face against her neck. “Go on, you wanted to introduce yourself,” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Harry also crouched down in front of the two and he stuck his hand out to the little boy. “M’Harry, what’s your name?” He asked.
“Go on,” she encouraged. “You can do it,” she whispered in his ear loud enough for Harry to hear but still just for the little one.
“I Rory,” he said incompletely and put his hand in Harry’s (it was the wrong hand which just made Harry melt a little more).
“S’nice t’meet you, Rory. This is a nice neighborhood y’got here. M’glad I got t’meet you on m’first day here.”
“This is Mommy,” he said and gestured to the beautiful girl he was standing in front of; she was young for sure. Harry couldn’t not notice she was young. Especially for how little Rory looked. It was hard for Harry to not notice every little detail about her—she was beautiful from head to toe, and it was easily the fastest Harry had ever become smitten with a girl. “She 25,” he volunteered.
“You’re supposed to tell him your age not my age, you goose,” she rolled her eyes with a smirk and squeezed his sides again making him giggle. She kept her eyes mainly on her son, but they darted over to Harry every so often.
“I free!” he said holding up three fingers proudly. “Mommy teached me,” he said and then listed off the numbers one through ten counting the rest on his finger.
“Cool lad,” he said with a smile. “You’ll have t’teach me,” he winked at him. “M’not so good with numbers,” he explained.
“One, two three, four...” he started quickly.
“Easy baby,” she said. “Don’t want to scare him off before he’s been here a day,” she winked in Harry’s direction.
“Oh, I don’t scare easy,” Harry told her seriously. He held her gaze for the first time since he walked over without looking at the little one. Rory was contentedly staring back and forth between the two putting his thumb to his mouth. She offered her name and held her hand out to him.
Harry took hold of it and wished he could never let go. Her hand felt so perfect in his. He could have cried. He couldn’t wait to tell Gemma and his mum. “Lovely t’meet you, kitten,” he murmured.
“Mommy not a cat,” Rory giggled.
“I know lad, but she’s pretty like one,” he winked at her and watched her long enough to see her cheeks turn pink at his assessment. Feeling proud of the reaction he turned his attention back to Rory. “S’like how she called y’baby. You’re not a baby but you’re cute like one.”
“You talk funny,” Rory giggled.
“Rory James,” she scolded lightly with an eye roll. She didn’t sound mad like any mother that had scolded their son before. Harry’s own mum would say she was too gentle—even if it wasn’t needed. “That’s not polite,” she said knowingly and pursed her lips at him in disappointment. “Say sorry to Harry, please,” she nodded at him expectantly.
“Sorry, Harry,” he said softly looking remorseful. His lower lip jutted out and Harry swore he saw his eyes glisten with a set of tears.
“Oh, s’alright lad,” he smiled gently and rubbed his hand up and down his little arm. Harry didn’t want to condone his actions since she told him to apologize, but it wasn’t a big deal. Harry knew where she was coming from too. “I do talk funny, don’t I?” He winked at him and gave his arm a little squeeze. “You talk kinda funny t’me too,” he stage-whispered to him and made him giggle.
Rory yawned after a minute. “Mommy, sleepy time?” He asked rubbing his eye with a little fist. Harry was in love with this little guy as much as he was in love with his mother.
“Oh yes, definitely nap time,” she said and finally stood, scooped him into her arms and gave Harry a gentle wave. “It was nice meeting you, Harry. Thanks for saying hi,” she grinned so gently and beautifully, Harry wanted to take a picture of that smile and cherish it forever. “Can you say, ‘see you around’ to Harry, before you fall asleep?”
“See around, Harry,” he repeated sleepily from the crook of her neck.
“See y’around, lad. Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” he said softly.
“Bye Harry,” she said gently.
Harry gave a wave as she retreated inside. He returned back across the street ready to unpack as quickly as possible and find as many excuses as he could to see the pretty girl and cute lad again.
“Mommy?” Rory asked tiredly as she carried him down the hall to his room. Her head was spinning with the image of the guy across the street. Harry was undeniably attractive. His hair begged to have her fingers sink into it. His eyes were so gentle and green she was sure he could have seen her swooning over him. He was tall and physically fit. It was unbelievably unfair he lived across the street. She adored her little boy but there was no way she could ever expect Harry to want to be in a relationship with someone that had a son so young.
“Yes, my love,” she hummed softly interrupting her daydream of Harry.
“What bed bug?” He asked sleepily. She giggled.
*
Harry spent his days working from home as a virtual psychologist. He was very lucky to work remotely, only having to go into the main office once in a blue moon. It was nice to work from the comfort of his home office and not have to worry about traffic or things like that. The clients he worked with suffered from a range of anxieties and Harry did his best to help them cope.
But maybe the best benefit was the view. From his office he could watch the sweet girl across the street.
She ran a home daycare during the day and he watched her periodically flit about the house and yard with several little ones in tow. They followed her like little ducklings, and she was so good with children it made Harry ache for something he didn’t even know he wanted at that moment. He couldn’t even hear her sing or talk to them from her view but the way she bent to their level made eye contact with them, it was so obvious that they loved and adored her. She treated them like people.
Harry liked that a lot.
Three nights a week another car parked in her drive and she was flying out the door dressed in what had to be a waitress uniform. She returned late at night—sometimes past midnight—Harry didn’t see past midnight all that often, but he saw it once or twice, so he made the assumption. Despite the lateness of the hour, she was always up and ready the next morning bright and early; she was chipper and beautiful for the little ones that liked to watch her almost as much as Harry liked to watch her.
On Sundays she played with Rory in the front yard.
“Rory!” She shouted as Harry ran by. Harry stopped in front of their yard and crouched down to snag the boy before he accidentally ran into the road. They didn’t live on a busy street; in fact, there wasn’t a car in sight, but it was the principle of the thing. He saw the way her heart took off and she looked stressed but relieved as Harry spoke to her son.
“Y’can’t run in the road, lad,” Harry told him.
“You run,” he pouted.
“M’a little older than you, lad. And even still, m’running on the sidewalk,” he said gesturing to the space beside the road. “The road is for cars, s’not for guys like us,” he explained.
He nodded knowingly. “Mommy says I get hurt,” he contended.
“Mummy’s right,” he nodded back. “She’s very smart,” he said looking over the top of Rory’s head and smiling at the poor love that was still eyeing the road as if it betrayed her.
“Baby, we don’t want to bother Harry; he’s running,” she said moving closer to him after a moment.
“I run?” He questioned, looking up at Harry expectantly.
“No, love he—”
“That sounds like fun Rory!” He stood up grabbing hold of Rory’s hand and winked at the speechless girl as Harry stepped off the sidewalk and let Rory run a few toddled paces up the road. Following alongside Harry cheered for him. “Wow, lad! Look at y’go! Can hardly keep up!” he chuckled as he pretended to struggle to run after Rory.
Rory giggled. “I fast!” He said excitedly.
“Sure are,” she called from a few paces behind. Harry turned back and smiled at her again.
All that was two years ago, though. Back when she was still talking to him, and Harry didn’t have to wonder what was going through her head. When Harry was still part of watching Rory grow and they developed their own routines as neighbors and friends. Before she decided to cut Harry out.
*
Shortly after moving in, she called Harry nervously. She gave him his number in case he needed anything while he was away on business or if she had any concerns about his house. He gave her a spare key telling her he just had a couple of plants in the kitchen that needed water every day. She returned the notion saying she rarely left when she had a toddler in tow, but you never know.
He could hear the anxiety in her voice. He got the feeling she didn’t ask for help very often. It would make sense given she was a superhero mum. Harry didn’t want to let her down.
“I’m really sorry to ask you this,” she sounded pained to ask him. Like it was physically hurting her to get the words out. Harry tilted his head as he held his phone to his ear. He glanced out his office window unable to see where she was in her house. “My sitter cancelled on me suddenly. Could you watch Rory for my shift? I know it’s last minute and I promise it will only ever be this one time...I just can’t call out this close to my start time—”
“Love the whole purpose of me working from home is I have a flexible job. I can watch him—he’s just going to bed soon anyway,” he promised. “I’ll be right over.”
“Really? You will? Thank you, Harry. Thank you so much. I promise I’ll pay you,” she said with so much gratefulness and relief in her voice he could hardly stand it.
“Don’t be silly kitten, I’d be insulted,” he said hanging up and taking no time at all to hurry across the street.
Rory was delighted to hang out with Harry. He didn’t hang out with men all that much. Harry was the best in his eyes. “We’ll have a little men club night,” he winked at the little boy. “We’ll play games, drink some juice, and watch an action movie,” it was an ambitious to do list before his bedtime in two hours, but she giggled at him and that was worth all the wins in the world in Harry’s eyes.
Harry watched him regularly—every Thursday after that.
Rory’s eyes lit up like nothing he’d ever seen before every single Thursday. It was obvious he looked up to Harry. He was the only regular man in their life, and he was the perfect role model. Harry taught Rory a lot of things in those short two hours before bed each week. Harry never thought of himself a teacher, but he never thought about how he learned to do some of the things Rory asked him to show him.
“Mommy says I can learn to pee standing up,” he whispered to Harry one Thursday almost a year after he started watching him. Harry smirked. He’d grown so much in just one year it made Harry overwhelmed sometimes. He spoke better than the three-year-old he met. Harry obviously wasn’t here for Rory’s baby days, but it had to make the poor girl just as overwhelmed some days. He was growing so fast.
“That’s cool lad. Guys usually do that,” Harry nodded knowingly with a smirk.
“Harry, how is Mommy going to show me?” He asked curiously. “Mommy told me girls don’t have to stand,” his little eyebrows were pinched together. Harry chuckled lightly. It was a valid concern and he wondered what it must be like to navigate such a different part of parenthood like that for the sweet girl. Harry was lucky his mum and dad were still together when he was potty training; that would have to be difficult for her and for Rory.
“M’sure your mum knows how t’teach y’anything, Rory. But if you’re not sure after her lesson, I can answer any question y’have,” he shrugged. “S’pretty easy,” he told him. He stood up from the couch and gestured in front of him as if there was an imaginary toilet there. “You just stand there and go like this,” he said and held his hand in front of his pants like he was pretending to pee.
“Oh,” Rory said his eyebrows furrowing together once more. “That looks easy.”
Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he chuckled sitting back down. “M’sure y’can handle it.”
“Harry?” He asked quietly. Harry was searching through movie titles on the TV to find something that he thought Rory would like before bed.
“Yeah, lad?”
“Sometimes...” he looked a little uncomfortable and stared at his little legs that barely crossed over the edge of the couch. “Sometimes I don’t want to ask Mommy things,” he told him shyly. “Could I ask you?”
Harry turned and looked at him. He frowned slightly. He didn’t want to overstep his boundary as babysitter or even neighbor, but he knew she would want to know anything going on in Rory’s life. “Rory, you can ask your mum anything,” he promised.
He nodded. “Mommy says that, too,” he affirmed. He waved his hand over to Harry asking him to come closer. “But Mommy doesn’t have a penis,” he whispered shyly—like it was a secret. “I don’t know if she knows everything about them,” he said seriously.
Harry bit back the laughter that was trying to burst its way through and he nodded seriously. “You’re right, lad. But Mummy knows how t’help you,” he reminded him. “She always helps you, yeah?”
Rory nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ll let Mummy know that if you have questions that she can’t answer, you can ask me.”
It was jarring to have Harry in her house when she got home so late from work. Harry was reading or watching TV on her couch while the little one slept soundly in his bed. The idea of coming home to Harry made her overwhelmed even when she was so tired and longed for her own bed.
If she wasn’t so tired she probably would have thought about going to bed with Harry. Fortunately, she was tired and while she thanked Harry a million times in the span of five minutes she couldn’t think about sleeping with her gorgeous, lovely, perfect neighbor. Today she was listening to the recap of the boys’ night because Harry wanted to tell her something important.
Harry relayed the story of Rory’s line of questioning that night she smirked and rolled her eyes. “That’s very funny. I’ll be sure to talk to him. Thank you,” she said gratefully. “But...if he does...have questions that I can’t answer, could he ask you?” She wondered. Harry was glad she asked because he would do anything for her and he was glad she felt comfortable asking for such an intimate thing. Harry knew being a single mum was a challenge like no other. He wanted her to have the world and he would help however he could.
“Kitten, I’ll tell him anything he wants t’know if it’s okay with you.”
She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, I really appreciate that, Harry,” she was so tired she didn’t think anything of it and leaned in to give Harry a hug.
Harry didn’t question it because it felt so natural to wrap his arms around her and have her in his embrace. Harry wondered the last time she was held by someone outside her family. He knew from the visual he had each day that there were no men in her life besides Rory, himself, and her brother. This was too nice and too sweet. She felt so warm and perfect in his arms. He was also getting tired but he was wound up in the smell of her the feel of her so quickly it made his head spin.
All at once she must have realized her position. “Uh...sorry,” she said softly and pulled away clearing her throat. She refused to meet Harry’s eyes. “I’m very tired.”
“Oh...” he hummed. “S’okay kitten...you’re pretty warm,” he shrugged with a grin. “I like hugs too.”
She nodded and still didn’t meet his gaze. “Thank you,” she repeated. “For everything.”
*
He remembered that hug a lot when he held the pillow in his arms thinking about how he hadn’t seen her in over two weeks. He doesn’t even know what he did wrong, and it drove him nuts. Of course, he adored her but he didn’t want Rory to think he had abandoned him either.
Apparently, Rory had been thinking the same way.
“Mumma, does Harry not love me anymore?” He asked before bedtime one night.
She sighed heavily. “Oh...baby, no,” she shook her head. “Harry loves you,” she promised. She knew that was true. Despite all her misgivings and all the things she worried about. She knew Harry adored her little boy.
“How come he hasn’t played with me in a while?” He asked.
She couldn’t tell him that she was too attached to him and it wasn’t fair to Harry that he would be a father for someone else’s baby. She was thrust into motherhood and it was the best thing that ever happened to her, but she would never make anyone—but especially Harry—be a parent before they were ready. “Sometimes grown ups are busy,” she said. “He’s always there,” she promised. “And you’ll always have me,” she smiled, ruffling his fluffy hair.
“I know that Mumma, but I like playing with Harry too. And I think he likes playing with us too.”
Little kids were too smart for their own good sometimes.
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thisapplepielife · 4 months
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Taking Over the Neighborhood
Prompt Day 21: Snow | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Fluff, Neighbor Meet-Cute, Snow, Platonic Stobin, Cat People, Eddie POV
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Eddie hates winter. 
It's cold. It's miserable. 
And the snow. 
The goddamn, motherfucking snow. 
He looks out the window, and he's not sure he's even gonna be able to get home by closing time. That's the shitty thing about working nights in the winter. Sometimes, when you're really unlucky, you get stuck at work.
They get a few more inches of snow, but he's determined to make it home, come hell or frozen water. His van can just suck it up.
He has to drive about ten miles per hour, but he does make it home. Then he gets to wade through his snow-covered sidewalk. Fantastic. 
His jeans are wet from the knees down, and he's freezing, so he jumps in the warm shower. Even if he'd really rather just crash.
The next day, he wakes up just after lunch, and while he's drinking his first cup of coffee, he notices that his walk has been shoveled. That's weird. He definitely doesn't know any of his neighbors that well. He hasn't lived here long, and his schedule isn't exactly ideal for meeting neighbors. Maybe it's some of the kids in the neighborhood, and he owes them money now. Which, he wouldn't mind paying, he definitely appreciates it.
Maybe he'll see 'em out working.
So, Eddie sits by the window and waits. Soon enough, a guy is walking across the street with a snow shovel. Eddie's never seen him before in his life. Doesn't know if he has a wife, a boyfriend, six kids or a dozen cats. No clue. Maybe all of the above, for all Eddie knows.
But, Eddie pours another mug of coffee, slides on his boots, zips up his coat and goes out to thank him.
The guy's just walking up the driveway when Eddie opens the door, and he freezes in his tracks.
"Hey, thank you, your handiwork is greatly appreciated!" Eddie hollers, offering him a big smile. "I'm Eddie."
"I'm Steve," Steve says, and Eddie smiles at him. "I kinda figured that either you worked nights, or were a vampire," Steve teases, "But look at you! Out in the daytime."
Eddie laughs, "Not a vampire. Bar owner, though, so lots of late nights," Eddie says.
"I hope you don't mind, I was doing mine, and just thought I'd help."
"I really appreciate that help, Steve," Eddie says, handing him the cup of coffee. Steve accepts it with thanks, and Eddie takes the shovel from his hands, and shovels up the small amount of new snow that fell overnight.
"So, a bar, huh? Which one?" Steve asks, and Eddie pauses for a second.
"Hellfire Club," Eddie finally says.
"Oh, that's cool! Small world. My best friend and I have been there a few times. It's great. We liked it a lot. There's not a lot of queer-friendly bars in the area, and a new one is always appreciated," Steve says, and Eddie relaxes.
"I'm glad you guys liked it," Eddie says, smiling, "it's taking up all my time. Hence, the rumors of me being a vampire, apparently."
Steve laughs, and Eddie leans on the shovel, just looking at him. He's very pretty, and maybe, some flavor of queer.
It's Eddie's lucky day.
"You hungry? I can make breakfast? As a thank you for all your manual labor," Eddie offers, and Steve actually nods, which sends a thrill through Eddie. He hadn't expected that, not really.
But he ushers Steve into his house, and they both take off their snow boots at the front door, and then Eddie leads him into his kitchen. "There's more coffee in the pot," Eddie says, and he watches as Steve refills his mug. "Milk or cream in the fridge if you want some, and sugar in the container right there," Eddie adds, pointing.
And Steve doctors up his coffee.
"I should have asked earlier, I forget not everyone drinks it black," Eddie says.
"Oh, I like it both ways," Steve says, stirring his coffee with a spoon he got out of the dish drainer. 
Eddie would be so lucky, if Steve likes it both ways.
Steve scoots onto the bar stool, and drinks his coffee while Eddie makes breakfast. 
"How do you like your eggs?" Eddie asks.
"The runnier the better," Steve says, and Eddie pulls his hands to his heart, dramatically. 
Steve laughs.
"A guy after my heart," Eddie declares, and starts frying some bacon, and puts bread in the toaster.
"How long have you lived across the street?" Eddie asks, glancing over his shoulder at Steve.
"Four, no, five years. My best friend, Robin and I, moved from a small town in Indiana," Steve says.
"I didn't know who lived over there. Single person? Family with six kids? A dozen cats? It could have been any combination," Eddie teases.
"Well, it's one bisexual, one lesbian, no kids, and 2 cats."
Eddie smiles, teasing, "We're taking over the neighborhood."
"The gays?" Steve asks, grinning.
"No, the cat people," Eddie teases, clicking his tongue and a big, black cat comes racing into the kitchen.
"That's Midnight."
Steve reaches down and scratches him behind the ears, and it makes Eddie smile.
Once the food is ready, they sit side-by-side and eat at the counter. Midnight eating his lunch in the corner, on the floor. They talk, and Eddie is happy he's making a friend in town. 
Then there's knocking on the front door, and Eddie gets up to go answer it. That's weird. Gareth would just walk in, so he doesn't know who it'd be.
He opens the door to a woman with a bob haircut, "Did you kidnap my best friend?"
"Yes, and I'm force feeding him breakfast," Eddie answers. "You must be Robin."
Steve laughs from the kitchen, then hollers, "How did you even know I was over here?"
"I followed your footprints. And I saw your shovel, dingus," she says, and pushes her way inside. 
Eddie steps aside to let her enter.
Maybe he'll make two new friends today.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
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grickle14 · 1 year
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It was inevitable.
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louis-sj · 5 months
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OLD MELBOURNE GAOL
345-355 Russell Street, Melbourne VIC 3000
The padded cell wing. Are those double doors?
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Some cells have dutch doors. No inside knobs.
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No crawling out the only window. Still no knobs on the inside of the door.
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Lots of room to bounce around off the walls.
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Nice high ceilings.
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Lots of room. Do I get a roommate? Will he snore? Ear plugs?
With all of that padding, it should be pretty quiet!
See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Melbourne_Gaol
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bitform · 6 months
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I'm sure this makes it's rounds every now and again, but I will never not post this. Being an anarchist is about being involved, not in your scene, or on your computer, but in the world around you, and where you live. It's not supposed to be easy.
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introvertedx10 · 7 months
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Me, too
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shirtlessmoviestv · 2 months
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Ben Barber : Neighbours Australia
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