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#and we say I spent 7 hours on his head so far (that’s not a high estimate… I’ve done way more fine tuning since posting this)
ekuboo · 1 year
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Needle felting my boy……
Process breakdown (disambiguation) in tags :)
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allywthsr · 13 days
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LEO LECLERC | (c.leclerc)
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summary: you and Charles get a dog
wordcount: 1.8k words
pairing: charlesleclerc x fem!reader
warnings: dogs
notes: how cute is Leo? My goodness.
You and Charles had been together for quite a while now, while he was busy racing all over the world, you were staying at home and working, sometimes you would join him for a race but most of the time, you couldn’t just get off work. Even with meeting your friends and being busy with your own work, you still felt lonely, especially at night. You never knew what could happen, due to having your address leaked by a few fans, you had people ringing the doorbell at two am. Sometimes friends slept over, but you needed someone to cuddle with when Charles was gone.
You‘ve always thought about having a dog, and all the cute puppies on your Instagram page had you swooning, just like Charles, he had always kept a close eye on your phone whenever you went down a rabbit hole of looking at cute dogs, seeing what kind of dogs you loved and spent hours of watching, he secretly always watched videos as well, but he also knew that a dog meant more work than it seemed in the videos.
It wasn’t like you two were seriously talking about getting a dog, sometimes the topic would randomly occur and you fantasized about the life with a dog, but you weren’t even sure if Charles would be a hundred percent okay with a little companion.
Until one Thursday evening, it was an off week for Charles and you were cuddling on the couch, watching some Netflix, when his phone rang. Joris was calling and Charles left the living room, you heard him mumble something in French, but you couldn’t hear him clear enough to fully hear what he was saying. Shortly after he came back and sat down again, you looked at him, he normally never left the room when he received a call.
“Joris called to tell me something.”
That made you sit up, nudging him slightly to talk more.
“I know how lonely you felt these last few weeks when I’m not around. And I know that you love dogs, so I aske-”
“You got us a dog?!”, you screeched in his ear, to which he shifted a little more far away, so he could keep his hearing ability.
“Not yet, Joris knows someone whose dog accidentally got pregnant and wants to sell some puppies, I thought we could go there tomorrow and see if any puppies like us?”
With tears in your eyes, you nodded and hugged him tightly, this was your dream, a little someone to take care of, a new best friend.
During the night you had trouble falling asleep, too excited to look at the dogs, so when the clock hit 7 am, you got up and took a shower, after you prepared some breakfast and woke Charles up, the faster you could get there, the better.
You both were nervous during breakfast, this was a big decision, a dog was a responsibility for several years, but you knew he or she would have the best life in your home, and your lives would also get better. There would always be a little cuddle buddy, someone to play with, and someone who needs your attention twenty-four-seven.
Joris didn’t say what breed it would be, only that the pregnancy wasn’t planned, but the puppies were adorable, and you didn’t doubt that for one second, every puppy was a cute creature.
The drive was rather short, only thirty minutes until you reached the family home, when you rang the doorbell, you could already hear dogs barking, and when the door opened and an older lady smiled at you, you could hear little puppies crying. You introduced yourself to the woman, whose name was Margarete, and she welcomed you into her home. After she offered you a coffee, she led you into the room where a big playpen was standing, and five little light brown puppies were sleeping. The little golden retriever dachshund mixes had the cutest little floppy ears and the softest-looking fur you had ever seen.
You quietly gasped after seeing these angels, and the first one lifted his head, after hearing a strange noise, and got excited when he saw you and Charles, waking his siblings in the process. After the puppies were awake and barking at you, you couldn’t wait anymore and carefully got in the pen, immediately you had four dogs crawling all over you, and the fifth one was sitting in the corner, crying for his mother, he was smaller than his siblings but in perfect health. Margaret told you she was currently training them to be separated from their mother, and so they could be crying, but when Charles joined you in the pen, the little fella walked over to him and sniffed at his knee, before getting up on Charles leg and finding a comfortable spot to sleep, after all, he was a small puppy.
From that moment, you knew this puppy had your heart, seeing how comfortable he was with Charles, and how he was crying for his mama a second ago, these two had a special connection.
Charles also fell in love with the little boy, he picked him up carefully and the puppy started to lick his face, which Charles commented with a chuckle. You two looked at each other and you knew what he was thinking, you found your little love. Charles gave you the fella and he also started sniffing you, giving you small licks on your chin, when you held him close to your chest.
Margaret came in and saw you cuddling with the dog, she knew you made a decision when you looked at her, “That’s Leo, you can change his name if you want to, but my grandson named him that way.”
Leo fit him perfectly, Leo Leclerc.
Charles and you took your time to cuddle some more, really making sure Leo liked you and wasn’t scared.
After doing all the paperwork with Margaret and learning about the needs that a little puppy had, you two left the house and went straight to the pet store, you still had to wait two weeks until you could pick him up, but you two were way too excited to not go and shop for Leo.
The cart was almost full when you waited in the queue to pay, food, toys, leashes, beds, and more stuff waiting to be used by Leo.
The next two weeks were going by slower than you’d hoped. Every day you chatted with Margarete and she sent you pictures and updates from Leo, the little puppy was doing great and got his last few shots at the vet, now he was ready to come home to you.
It was a Saturday when you picked him up, Leo got excited when you had him in your arms, licking everything he could reach, while Charles paid for Leo, and signed the last papers. Now he was officially yours, your own little puppy, to cherish and love.
On the way home you spilled some tears, while the little angel was sleeping on your lap, this was a dream come true. Now you wouldn’t be as lonely anymore when Charles was gone, but you also had a little companion when you two were together.
The first few steps Leo did in his new home were wobbly, he was a little scared, so you and Charles settled down on the floor, just to make sure Leo didn’t feel lonely and had someone he could go to if he needed emotional support. But he was a brave boy, and even if his steps were slow, he still looked around the apartment, sniffing all these new smells and he already found his favorite spot, which was underneath the piano, where a furry rug was lying.
You let the little puppy sleep and started making dinner, Leo must’ve been exhausted, he left his old home and his family, and now he was with strangers in new surroundings, but he felt comfortable, or otherwise he wouldn’t be sleeping like he was now.
The evening was spent cuddling with Leo, when you and Charles were lying on the couch, watching TV, Leo tried to get up on the couch and when Charles picked him up, he settled on your belly, where he took another nap.
The first night was nerve-racking, you had read a lot of articles, so you prepared for the worst. Leo and you two went to bed at around eleven pm, the little puppy lay down in his dog bed that Charles placed in the corner of the room, and two hours after you fell asleep, you got woken up by little whines that came from Leo. You grabbed him and put on his leash, and Charles and you went outside, where Leo did his business. Charles held your hand, while he had the leash in the other hand, he looked adorable with his jumper pulled over his head.
Back at home, you laid in bed again, but before you could fall asleep, little whines came from Leo again. Charles let out a sigh, “Do you think he needs to go outside again?”
“But he did his business, maybe he misses his family? They slept cuddled together every night after all.”
So he got up, picked Leo up, and came back to bed with him, when Leo settled between you, he stopped crying and fell asleep.
The next morning started off early, Leo licked all over your face and started playing with your hair, even if you were sleep deprived, when you opened your eyes and looked at Charles with Leo, all of this was worth it. The way Leo’s tail was wagging when you filled his food bowl with the puppy food, you think you died from diabetes, but Charles wasn’t any different. You already caught him way too often when he sneaked a treat to Leo, and you only had him for a day.
You also caught Charles cuddling with Leo while he was doing sim work in his simulator at home, or while taking a nap on the couch, or how Leo followed him everywhere Charles went. He already loved his new dad. Just as much as he loved you.
The ice cream launch was when you wanted to introduce Leo to the world, the little baby was frightened by the flashing lights, but when Charles held him, he calmed down again, in general, he felt most calm when he was in Charles’ arms.
Leo loved small walks, he couldn’t walk for long, he had small legs and was exhausted easily, so you all could walk for fifteen minutes before Leo had enough and wanted to be held, that's why you and Charles were often seen holding him.
You couldn’t wait to see Leo grow up and have the time of his life, especially Charles couldn’t wait for him to join him at a race, Leo would be his emotional support dog, in these hard times at Ferrari.
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satureja13 · 21 days
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Vlad can't believe he's sitting here without his shirt in front of Leander again! He has to remind himself over and over again that he does all this to help Ji Ho, Saiwa and Jack. And that this is just a game. Just. A. Game. After a while (that already took much too long if you asked Vlad) Leander had banged the rock into a rough shape.
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Time to take measurements. Leander: "So where is what..."
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Hahaha Leander can be happy that Vlad already drifted off ^^'
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Then he banged around a bit more...
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Leander: "Let's see..."
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Leander, after another while: "Hmmm..."
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Leander: "Oh-oh. This part is a bit too long."
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The Queen wants her statues accurate. Leander: "Let's shorten this part a bit..."
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And then he was finally finished! Leander: "Come - take a look." Vlad finally drifted back. He just daydreamed about making a certain part of Leander a bit shorter!
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Leander: "What do you think?"
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The damn statue looked nothing like him! The head and the face even looked like all the other heads here on the pedestals! Leander: "Of course he does! He's made in the image and likeness of you!"
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Leander is hurt. No one ever dared to criticize his work.
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And Vlad is furious. Leander could have easily done this without him sitting here for hours in humiliation! Tch!
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Vlad collected his money, bougt some food and called Diablo. Vlad: "Let's never look back." Diablo: 'Agreed.'
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'We walked him to the station in the rain We kissed him as we put him on the train And we sang him a song of times long gone Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again (Far away!) I'm sad to say I must be on my way So buy me beer or whiskey, 'cause I'm going far away (Far away!) I'd like to think of me returning when I can To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane'
The Pogues - Sally MacLennane TMI: Sally MacLennane is an irish stout (beer) and not a girl ^^'
And this is how Vlad hastily left Goldshire (and soon after the Therapy Game). He'd seen enough. Time to report back to Saiwa. He surely won't come back here so he didn't care who saw him topless. He wonders how time had passed for the others. Ingame time often passes much faster than in reality and the Bond didn't complain or demanded to be charged. So his guess is he only spent here a few hours real time even though it had been ~ 24 hours in the Therapy Game. That should be enough for playtesting. It seems quite safe (minus the embarrassment) but the others can decide for themselves if they are stable enough to try it.
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From the Beginning  🔱  Underwater Love 🔱  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 📜 7-12 📜 13-16 📜 17-22 📜 23-28
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kkami-writes · 8 months
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Devil's Advocate - Chapter Three. cw. none wc. 1.2k + 10 SS
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Introductions had been brief and you tried your best to remember them, repeating the names over and over in your head, which was what you were doing now while laid in your new bed. The room was small but rather cozy, just a singular bed and desk, nothing else occupying the space and you briefly wondered who had lived in here before. 
Glancing at the clock it read 4am, the last two hours since you had said goodnight had been a blur, much like time usually was for you when you had nothing to do (which was most of the time). While you didn’t need to sleep, you still loved to close your eyes and let the hours pass by - but with your thoughts bouncing around in your head you know you won’t be able to get any rest. So instead, you decide to at least spend some of your time wisely, moving out of your new room to explore the rest of their little apartment.
In order to make less noise you had taken off your heels. If you were honest, you hated them. You were clumsy enough without them, the amount of times you had almost broken an ankle is far too many to count. Walking around, you noticed that their place is rather big, enough to fit all of them comfortably with a nice kitchen area with three fridges. You briefly wonder why they would need three, but with eight boys they probably ate a lot. Still, it made you laugh at the fact they had three whole ass fridges. 
The shared living space had a large black leather couch sitting in front of a TV. It wasn’t the cleanest space with scattered boxes around but it wasn’t terrible, and honestly you were surprised it was rather put together for eight boys who looked around college age. 
Not feeling like confining yourself up in your new room, it was a little too depressing to be in to be honest, just the bed and desk being your only company. Instead, you decide to just chill on the couch, which was a lot more comfy than you thought. Hours were spent like this, just mindlessly scrolling through your phone and you don’t even notice when the sun slowly starts to come up.
When the first boy wakes up he’s dragging himself out of his room, yawning loudly before he makes eye contact with you. He seems shocked to see you just chilling on the couch in their living room, and perhaps you think he’s forgotten that you were here, hoping that last night had just been a nightmare. 
You smile a little awkwardly at him, greeting him a good morning as you check the time. 7:30. Damn, now you feel really bad for partially being the reason they had gotten less sleep than normal. Hopefully they could get some more rest later. Your voice seems to finally stir him out of his sleepy haze as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Chan. You’re pretty sure that’s what his name was, the redhead. 
“Ah, right. Um. Good morning,” 
“You’re up early. I’m surprised,”
“Yeah, we have a lot of work to do right now so unfortunately, no sleeping in for us. Sorry- I don’t really have time to talk right now, I need to get the other boys up and ready,” You simply nod your head in understanding, waving him off and telling him you were fine, to not worry about the demon in his living room. Chan laughs a little awkwardly before sliding into another room and you can hear the other person letting out an annoyed groan. 
It doesn’t take long for the apartment to become a chaotic mess, boys scrambling in and out of doors, trying to complete their morning routines. They look like a bunch of ants, all scattered around and yelling at each other. It’s entertaining to say the least but you can spot several of them with dark circles, easily seeing how tired they are as they drag themselves across their dorm. 
With a sigh, you move to get up, heading towards their kitchen as you search for a coffee machine. You decide to make yourself somewhat useful if they weren’t going to use you for your “intended purpose”. While tempting, you didn’t want to just sit there like an idiot, doing nothing. It was the least you could do for now. 
One of them is by the door, putting on his shoes and adjusting the bag he has over his shoulder. He’s just about to leave before you call out to him and he looks up at you with a slightly confused face, even as you push the to-go cup into his hands. 
“Um…Hyunjin? Right?”  He nods, slightly surprised that you had even remembered his name and honestly, you are too. “It’s just uh, coffee. I just thought maybe you’d guys would like some. Um, you don’t have to take it of course if you don’t want any,” You’re rambling now so you shut yourself up. To be honest you don’t know what you’re doing, this situation is so out of your depth and it was making you act weird. You were good for one thing, and one thing only and it certainly wasn’t making coffee for 8 tired college(?) students. 
Before you can take it away, he’s grabbing onto the cup and subsequently your hands.
“Ah no! It’s fine! Thank you, I’ll take it,” Hyunjin is smiling at you and for a second you can’t help but think that his smile is almost prettier than he is. His eyes dart down your figure for a moment before he’s flushing, ears turning pink as he averts his eyes. It’s then you realize that you’re still clad in your normal clothes, which is just the lingerie you had been wearing the night before. Still, you find it rather endearing that he can’t look at you now without staring at your chest, which in his defense is completely on display. 
“Um! Thanks again! Ok, I gotta go, bye!” He’s quick to throw himself out the door, a small tittering laugh leaves your lips at his antics. You end up giving each boy a cup of coffee, each of them thanking you in return with little to no eye contact. You briefly wonder if you should change - or keep it on just to tease them. 
Chan is the last one out of the door, thanking you for the coffee but politely refused since he didn’t prefer the drink. 
“So, uh- I know things haven’t really been explained yet and hopefully we can soon but um. The gist for now is please do not leave the apartment. It would be really bad if people were to see you,” You hadn’t been expecting to be let out of the house of course, but the way he emphasizes this fact makes you curious. You let it go for now, assuming you’d get answers to everything later. 
“No problem, you got it boss. Oh, here’s my number by the way. Text or call if you need anything, I can be there in a second,” You hand him a piece of paper with your number as you quickly summon your phone into existence, waving it around. Chan wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to the small magic you could do, much less come to terms with having an actual demon in the dorms.
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eddiernunson · 4 months
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Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+
Really Drives Me Mad Part 7 coming on Christmas Day
Word Count of Preview: 1.3k
Chapter contains: Wedding shenanigans.
NOW POSTED
Preview:
“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect your wedding to be so soon,” Skyler admits, in the middle of chewing on a salt and vinegar chip, some in her hand in queue to be chomped on next.
You keep your eyes on the movie playing snacking on a peanut M&M, watching Amanda Bynes’ truly unmatched comedic timing. “I am not spending a whole year of wedding planning,” you protest, throwing another chocolate into your mouth, “my mom is far too opinionated for me to be able to handle all of that fuss.”
“Well, you still need to find a dress…” Bethany points out, taking a hit off her vape pen. “And a caterer, someone to marry you, and a wedding photographer, decorate the venue—”
“We have invited close family and friends only.” You remind her, rolling her eyes. “If anything, the reception will turn into one big dance party. Hell, we’re ordering pizza. I don’t need a fairytale wedding. Having him has made my life a fairytale already.”
“Gross.” Skyler comments, sticking her tongue out at you playfully.
“I think it’s cute.” Bethany offers, grinning.
“Also, I might have already decided on a dress.” You hesitantly say, turning your head around and up at them to see their reactions. They collectively stop what they’re doing to scream at you for it. The gist of their uproar was mostly how they weren’t invited to the time you spent looking, but this dress was a happy accident by every definition.
“You found a dress?”
You shrug, pausing the movie so it’s not such a distraction for the conversation. “Yeah…”
The first time Eddie gave you his card and sent you to the mall for him, you were anxious about holding his money and only spent it on things he explicitly said he had wanted.  The entire trip took about an hour, getting home and holding a few bags as you entered the front door. Eddie leapt from the couch, grinning wickedly as he met you in the kitchen. He held your hands as he smirked at you. “How was the shopping trip?”
“Good.” You answered, moving to your purse on the counter to hand him his card.
He put it in his wallet hurriedly, wanting to get back to you. “What’d you get?” He asks, starting to look through the bags.
“I found everything you asked for except for the socks, apparently they’re discontinued.” You answered, leaning onto the island counter.
Eddie’s face falters only the littlest bit, shrugging. “Damn, gonna have to find a new favourite pair then.” He looked through every bag one by one, seemingly looking for something he couldn’t find. “What’d you get?”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “Um, everything but the socks?”
Eddie’s face broke into laughter, hands snaking themselves around your waist. “Yes, baby, but what did you get for yourself?” His voice was so gentle, smiling at you fondly with a gorgeous lobsided smile on his face.
“Oh, um, nothing…” you answered, eyes flickering to the ground. “It’s your money.”
A hand made its way onto your cheek, intertwining his fingers in your hair. His lips landed on yours, taking your breath away with how dreamy and dizzy it made you feel. As he pulled apart, your knees were weak, mouth half open as you stared up at him in pure bewilderment. After you were able to catch your breath, you finally asked, “What was that about?”
He smiled at you tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re just so sweet, my love,” he muses, beautiful brown eyes roaming all over your face. “Sweetheart, you have a ring on your finger. If we’re about to get married, then my money is your money.”
A frown sat on your face, thinking over what he just told you, eyes fleeting all over his hardwood floor. “But…I don’t, I don’t want, I don’t want—”
He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your chin to look up at him. “I know you don’t want it.” His other hooked around your back, pulling your body against his. “However, I do want to share it with you, just like I want to share everything else.”
You smiled at him, sighing as his hand caressed the swell of your cheek, leaning into it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m with you for any other reason than how much I love you.”
“And how hot you find me, hmm?” He teased, eyes half lidded.
You rolled your eyes playfully, hands petting the nape of his neck. “Of course.” Eddie gave you a big kiss, lips wrapping yours, making you feel only bliss. “So, if I take your card to Sephora and buy a palette I’d had my eye on, you wouldn’t protest?”
Eddie sighed, sticking his tongue out in his true fashion. “You could buy the whole damn store as long as you’re happy.”
You squinted at him, lips pursed as you assessed his gorgeous face. “…How much do you have in savings?”
He smiled, tilting his head playfully. “Enough.” He said, twisting his face comically. “Maybe not enough to buy the whole store, but enough to shop comfortably.”
With his blessing, you started to feel something like a trophy wife on the occasional mall trip. Holding his black card as you swipe it unflinchingly at a large bill is so satisfactory as you see the glint of jealousy of the cashier’s eyes.
On your most recent outing, grabbing groceries and making stops at your favourite stores as you browsed, a little boutique in the corner of the mall caught your eye. You’ve never seen it before, a deserted area of the mall that has incredibly niche stores that mostly look like a storefront for a ring of some type. In the very corner is a sweet little boutique with hand made clothes, the kind of clothing one doesn’t come across very often anymore, all made with care with high quality fabric…but not at a designer price.
A dress with embroidered flowers around the skirt caught your eye in the window, and there were only cuter clothes in the store. With several hangers of clothing on your hand, the corner the store comes into view, and the prettiest white dress you’ve ever seen.
As soon as your size was in your grasp, you giddily ran off to the change room. Your reflection stared back at you, a pretty girl in a beautiful white dress. Your eyes welled up in bridal glory.
All for 85 dollars. (Well, that’s not the whole bill, just the dress.)
Your eyes flicker back to your friends, shrugging. “It just happened.”
“How far is Hawkins, exactly?” Bethany asks, leaning on her elbow on her legs crossed.
“A few states away.” You answer, pressing play on the movie again.
“You’re only inviting close family, right?” Skyler asks.
“Yeah, and you guys and Steve’s family.”
Bethany tilts upside down on the couch, feet resting on the pillows as she watches the movie upside down. “I’m sorry, who’s Steve again?”
You roll your eyes. “Do you guys ever listen to what I say?” They shrug, looking at you expectantly. “He’s Eddie’s best friend.” Still, their looks are completely blank. “You remember the photo I showed you of Eddie? He was the one on the left.”
Their eyes both noticeably bug out of their sockets. “Oh, you lucky bitch.” Skyler chuckles, definitely remembering the one of the left.
You roll your eyes, again. “He’s happily married, you dicks.”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it” Bethany accuses, knowing you too well, if you had anything to say about it.
The hesitation says everything. “Okay, maybe once or twice.” You admit, avoiding their eyes. “But again, he is happily married, and frankly unrealistic. Plus, he might be my sister’s father-in-law,” you joke, mostly hoping there’s no truth behind it.
 “Okay, this I gotta hear.” Bethany giggles, leaning in with much intrigue.
-
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken
Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyss @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @spencerssatchel @bl4ckt00thgr1n @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @vintagehellfire @hellfirefiend @kittydeadbones @luumunson @uncxmfxrtablex @eddiesgfffffffffff @hkurbsjundebi @eddies-puppet @joantje @novelnovella @shady-the-simp @lma1986 @mischieftom @strangerfan3691 @crayongirl-linz @dumblittlebunbun @ick90 @emilyshortcake
Y'all I'm so excited.
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devox2564 · 4 months
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In Your Heart
Jake Kizka x fem reader
Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), first date fluff, corny as fuck Christmas references
Author’s Note: This chapter was very lightly edited, so please excuse any grammatical errors or less than stellar word choices, I reallly wanted to get this chapter out for you all.
Chapter Eight: Needy
The set itself has already improved tenfold since that first show in Nashville. Each song is tighter and perfected. Your technique has never been better. Watching the guys perform is like watching an animal evolve in real time, each show exhilarating but unique from the last.
Things with Jake have lulled into a sort of familiarity that is a little too close to be just friendly. Stolen kisses in tucked away corners and nights spent in deep conversation. He knows more about you than anyone alive on this planet. It's vulnerability in a way that you aren't quite comfortable with yet.
Currently, you're sitting in a hotel room all to yourself. Thank god they booked you all individually instead of doubled up. You loved your bandmates like sisters at this point but... some privacy is much appreciated. Grey sweatpants hang off your hips and your hair hangs in tendrils around your face. The Boston skyline is already twinkling in the purple of sunset. It's nearing Christmas and you see lights scattered far below illuminating the snow dusted streets.
Your phone rings. You answer without looking, knowing that it's Jake.
"Hello?" You answer.
"Hello dahhhling" his English drawl greets you.
"What's up?" You ask him chuckling a bit.
"Would you be able to pencil me in tonight? Sayy, 7:00? Drinks?"
"Are you.. the Jacob Thomas Kizka finally asking me out?" You prod him.
"Indeed madam" he replies seriously.
"Let me get dressed. I'll meet you in the lobby." You say and hang up on him before he can reply.
Shit. You have nothing to wear on a date. You pick through your suitcase and land on a pair of straight jeans and an oversized crewneck, praying he hasn't made any sort of fancy reservation.
The elevator ride down gives you a full view of the atrium of the hotel. Tall ceilings are strung with twinkling lights and Christmas trees litter the large room where people meander about. You spot him near the doors waiting. His long hair is pulled up into a messy knot at the back of his head, just brushing the collar of a dark brown leather jacket. He spots you and waves as you descend the last few floors and disappear from view.
He pulls you into a hug as soon as you reach him. "I missed you." He says squeezing you tight around your shoulders and lifting your toes off the ground.
"You saw me less than an hour ago on the bus." You say, your airway constricted.
"An hour too long in my opinion." He puts you down.
You laugh before asking "So where are we going?"
"You'll see. Come on." and he slips his hand in yours leading you outside.
It's very cold outside and you silently thank yourself for packing a decent jacket at least. The snow is falling lazily now, and the wind has slacked just enough to allow you some peace as you walk. Jake leads you down a few blocks and into a different hotel lobby and a different elevator. You ride up for what seems like an eternity. He's still holding your hand and tucks it into his coat pocket running his thumb soothingly up and down your pointer finger. Even in the cold this casual touch tingles more than usual, your body responding to an affection it has sorely missed.
You finally step off of the elevator and into a large room with walls of glass. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the view. You can see the whole skyline of the city from up here. Even better than the view from your hotel room. You glance over at him and he's grinning smugly as if he knew this place would be impressive to you.
You roll your eyes inwardly. He does know you very well then. You are in awe. Music plays softly, and dim lights sparkle and bounce off of the windows. He leads you to a deep sofa near the edge of the room and deposits you there. "Wait here I'll go and get us drinks."
After a few moments he returns and the two of you curl up and sip for a moment. Conversation is just as easy as it always is. The two of you spend quite a bit of time discussing the tour so far: your favorite cities, the best crowds, nicest hotels, and so on. After all the topics relating to shows and performances are expended, you sit for a while in comfortable silence admiring the city from your perch. His brown eyes shine in the lights of the skyline. "You know, I'm kicking myself for not agreeing to go out when you first asked me." You admit to him a bit unwillingly.
"Oh I knew you would be." He grins. "But I won't hold that against you."
"Oh well thank you so much Jacob" you really roll your eyes at him now.
"I'm kicking myself for not asking you out the second I knew that creep had blown his shot with you. If that makes you feel any better." He casually reaches out and intertwines his fingers with yours on the back of the couch.
"It does thanks." The mention of David in the moment doesn't even phase you.
"You know, I've never been with someone I had a real friendship with first?" You offer up.
"Yeah?" He replies.
"It was always right down to business. I've not gotten the chance to really know someone the way I know you. Not before things get serious at least." He's silent and you continue. "It feels... strange to for this to be so natural to me."
"Strange in a good way I hope." His smile is soft now, less goofy than before.
"In a very good way."
"I'm glad we've gotten to be friends. You help keep my head on straight. You steady me and knock me off kilter all at once." He's looking out at the sky while he speaks. "I was worried for a while that I'd never be able to move on, you know? Get on with my life."
"That's why I was so worried about this becoming more for us. I was afraid we'd fuck it up and I'd lose you altogether."
He seems amused at this comment, like it'd never even crossed his mind that this progression could complicate things.
"Do you want to know when I knew this was going to be something?" He asks
"Hmmm..." you think "it has to be the vomiting on your shoes thing. One of the highlights of our friendship for sure."
He laughs "Nope."
"Ok so what then? I don't know how I could top that for you." You joke, sliding your shoes off and swinging your legs up and across his lap to face him.
"That night I sliced my hand open in the kitchen." He admits still laughing.
"You're kidding." You giggle in reply.
"I'm definitely not. Watching you bandage me up, make fun of me for hating blood. We'd spent weeks scraping each other off the floor and then it just hit me all of a sudden." He pauses "I just felt something shift and from then on it was just different for me. I wanted to grab you and kiss you right then."
"Buttt you didn't." You couldn't damper your smile even if you'd wanted to.
"And then I heard you playing the piano the next morning. I really knew it was over for me then." He unlaces his fingers and reaches out to brush your cheek with his thumb.
You lean into his hand involuntarily. His calloused fingers burning against your still cool skin. He's studying your face like it's the first and last time he'll ever see it. That's how he's always looked at you, you realize.
"That was the first night I noticed things felt different between us. I didn't want to admit it to myself. But turns out I was right." You smirk. Leave it to you to interrupt a tender moment with gloating, but he doesn't seem to care.
The two of you sit in silence for a moment, comfortable in the dimly lit space. The noise from the bar comes into the foreground.
"Is this Last Christmas?" You ask straining to hear the music.
"I think so." He says also listening.
"This is my favorite Christmas song." You admit to him with a laugh. "It's so fucking cheesy I know."
He tries to hold back his snort, but it comes anyways and he's full on laughing. You push his shoulder and he raises his hands up in mock defeat.
"Hey, as far as Christmas music goes, I suppose Wham! is an acceptable choice." He wipes at his eyes.
He moves your legs from his lap and braces his hands on his knees to stand from his seat. Turning around, he stretches out a hand to you. "Dance with me?"
"You're serious?" you ask him with a raise of your eyebrow.
"If it's your favorite, then I guess it's my favorite now too." He's being sincere now.
Looking around and deciding the bar is empty enough to avoid any embarrassment, you stand up and take his hand. In a second you're  chest to chest swaying in time to George Michael's cheesy poppy voice.
You rest your head on his shoulder and drink the feel of him in. Warm, comforting, like home. Eyes closed, you listen to the music. It's impossible to peel the smile away from your lips. Your arms are draped around his shoulders like you're back at a middle school dance. His hands travel down to rest in the small of your back. This movement sends small tingles up your spine. You turn your head and gently brush your lips against his cheek, lingering there in the dim light.
"Hey." Jake says as the song ends and you pull away to look at him.
"Hey." You say back, looking into his eyes.
"Do you want to get out of here?" He asks, his hands still firm on your back.
You crane your head and kiss him in reply. Sweet and deep, but also with just a bit of urgency. A promise of things to come.
"Alright, let's go." He says, his eyes a little darker than you saw them last. He leads you away and into the elevator.
.....
Back at the hotel, he pushes the button for the elevator. "The top floor? We're all on 7."
"Just shush." He says smiling down at you mischievously
"You know better than anyone that that's physically impossible for me." You side eye him. "And anyway-"
Your lips are against his in a flash. It's like a dam inside him has finally broken and he's kissing you like the world has ended. You melt into his arms, no resistance left inside you. His tongue just brushes your bottom lip as the elevator slows and prepares to stop. He pulls away.
"The next time you want me to shut up, that'll do. Much less annoying." You say staring into his eyes, damning the elevator.
"Come on." He replies and grabs your hand.
Jake leads you down the hallway and slides a key card out of his pocket. In a flash, a door is open and you're standing in a hotel room much larger and prettier than yours. There's a king sized bed centered against the wall overlooking the entire city. Art covers the walls and a large white bathtub is snuggled in the corner next to a master bathroom with walls of glass. A true penthouse view, not dissimilar from the one at the bar. You glance to your left and spot a huge bouquet of white roses.
"What is all this Jake?" You're a little bit stunned.
He shuts the door and spins you around to face him. "Well, I figured if I was going to romance you I ought to do it right."
Jake's hands are on your hips and his eyes are dark and heavy lidded. You can't find the words to reply, letting the silence fill with the sound of your breathing. You reach up and slowly pull his hair down out of its tie, running your fingers through it and resting your hand at the nape of his neck. The other hand caresses his cheek, thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone and traveling all the way down to gently brush his lower lip. His breath hitches a bit. That's all you need.
Your lips find his again. This kiss is again different than the others. This one tests nothing, asks no questions, and needs no confirmation. It's hot and heavy with a need you've been denying each other for months. The two of you are entwined, a whirl of hands and lips and tongues. Your thighs hit the edge of the mattress, but you have no recognition of moving closer to it. Jake lowers you down onto the bed, settling overtop of you. Pulling away for a moment, he takes a long deep breath. His eyes rake up and down your still clothed form. You smile at him, letting out a breathy laugh.
He catches your lips in another deep kiss and allows his hands to roam up and down your body. His fingertips leave no skin untouched. Your neck, your face, your shoulders, before he creeps up the hem of your shirt and caresses the warm skin of your stomach. Up up up, cupping your breast in his hand. The nipple pebbles in response through the thin fabric of your bra, begging to be touched. You feel his full weight against you and urge your hips up to meet him.
"This has got to go." His voice is low and husky as he tugs your shirt up and you quickly pull it off, tossing it aside. You allow your bra to join it on the floor without hesitation.
He drinks you in, your breasts heaving with the effort of your breath. Your nipples hard and alert. Clear evidence of your arousal. You can feel as he looks at you that the warmth and wetness between your legs is growing by the second. The anticipation. The waiting, the wanting, the needing.
Faces only inches apart, he tears his gaze from your body to your face. There is clear desperation swimming in his expression. "I need you." He says.
"I need you." Your reply breathily.
His eyes grow dark, pupils blown, “Say it again.”
His order throws you off and you hesitate.
“Say it. Again.” He repeats, lifting your chin with his index finger.
“I need you Jake.” Your voice is a whisper.
Still fully clothed, he pulls away. Deftly, his hands work the buttons of your jeans and you're nearly bare save for your underwear.
"Your turn." you gesture a hand at him, regaining some of your composure before he can move closer again. The corners of his mouth creep up into a grin. Before you can protest, his lips are exploring your body. He does however, make the effort to remove his jacket and shirt, tossing them haphazardly across the room.
"Look, you're already wet for me." He teases, gently brushing his fingers against the thin cotton between your thighs just as his mouth closes around your nipple. His tongue flicks, and you gasp which seems to amuse him.
"You know," he says, pausing to trail lips and tongue down the flat of your stomach "I've been dreaming," over the curve of your hip "of tasting you" the tops of your thighs "for months."
You look down at him kneeling at the edge of the bed. He holds your eyes as he kisses the creamy soft skin of your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to the apex. He allows his nose to brush the fabric of your panties and you feel your clit already begging for a release. This is absolutely torturous.
You’re barely aware of the sensation of the cotton fabric sliding down your legs, or the soft trace of his fingertips on your ankles. Not until his mouth fully closes around you do you come back into your body and the fullness of sensation. Your back arches and he presses you down into the bed with one hand while his tongue dances circles around your clit, working you into a frenzy.
Another order rings out suddenly, his lips momentarily abandoning you, your cunt begging for release. “Look at me.”
You obey, desperate for him to continue.
“I want to see you cum. See it in those beautiful eyes alright?” It’s more of an order than a question. You’re more than happy to oblige. Maybe the only instance since you’ve known him that you let yourself concede.
His fingers curl into you, invited in gladly. His eyes never leave yours as his tongue resumes its previous endeavor. You feel the warmth of your impending orgasm rising from your belly and spreading out into your limbs. His fingertips brush that sweet secret spot inside and linger there, moving faster and faster in time with his tongue.
“Jake, Jake, please..” your voice is strangled as you struggle to look at him, resisting the urge to throw your head back as the feeling surges toward you. His eyes remain, dark and deep and endlessly staring into you.
You know you can’t hold on any longer. “Please, oh god, oh god, yes, yes, yes..”
You unravel on his lips, his tongue flicking and lapping as his fingers fuck you, hitting just the right spot to blur your vision and set you on fire. You cry out into the night as you ride the waves of this most intense pleasure.
“Mmm good girl.” He says, relieving his tongue but allowing his fingers to continue. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself oh so sweet on his lips.
“Who knew you could follow orders so well?” He says.
“Only for you Jakey.” You reply as playfully as you can muster through your gasping breaths.
He smirks, curling his fingers inside you just to watch your back arch.
“So meann.” You whine when he returns to his slow steady rhythm.
He chuckles deep in his chest and pecks your lips “I’ll show you mean if you want baby. It could be a very long night for you.”
You do not reply, but hope to yourself that it is a long night. A very, very long night indeed.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Longest chapter so far guys. And our first real taste of spice. Thought it might be fun to make their first date a little Christmas Special while I was at it. Don’t worry though, this particular interaction isn’t over. I just wanted to make sure you had something good to chew on before the holiday. ;)
-E
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stargirl-int3rlud3 · 6 months
Text
𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧.
satoru gojo x fem! reader
🗯! swearing, slightly suggestive, parenting, child megumi & tsumiki, cute halloween couple-y things !
synopsis; gojo has a fun packed day for your guys' first halloween with megumi and tsumiki and he just can't wait. — ♡ ᵎᵎ
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Usually, you and Gojo's shared apartment was only lightly littered with a few Halloween decorations, but this year was completely different. You had spent hours during Megumi and Tsumiki being at school to decorate every inch of the apartment. Even though you were exhausted by the time they got home, the look of pure amazement at the sight of the decoration was far greater than any tiredness. It was even better when Gojo got home and the look of shock flashed across his face.
"My love? Did you do all of this by yourself?" Gojo asks you, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck as you finish up cooking dinner.
"Yeah, I figured I should for the kids" You tell him as you scratch his scalp with your free hand.
"I could've helped you" He kisses your jawline, making you want to melt
"It's fine Satoru, I handled it"
After that Gojo tries his best to make sure you are doing as little as possible. You're the love of his life, his princess, so of course you were going to get princess treatment. Megumi needed a costume, Gojo's driving him to the nearest Halloween store. Tsumiki needed help carving her pumpkin, Gojo's there in an instant. The only thing you got to help with is to make treats for Megumi and Tsumiki's Halloween parties at school and that was because Gojo nearly burned down the entire apartment complex when he tried. It was cute to see Gojo shuffle into your room with his head hung asking you to help him with the baking.
Gojo did everything to make this Halloween special for you and the two Fushiguro siblings.
Then came the night of Halloween. Tsumiki was dressed as a witch and Megumi was dressed as a zombie. Gojo pleaded and insisted that you and him go as Dracula and his wife, when you agreed he practically shot through the roof. Even more so now that you were actually wearing the costume. His eyes hadn't left you for the past 7 minutes and you were sure he had started drooling.
"Close your mouth, 'Toru, you're going to catch flies" You snicker at him.
"I can't help it, hun, you're just so stunning" Gojo wraps his arm around your waist, trailing wet kisses down your neck.
You scrunch your fingers into his white locks, biting your bottom lip. Suddenly, the door to you and Gojo's room is opened by none other than Megumi. You almost immediatly notice, pulling away from Gojo to go right to Megumi's side. Leaving Gojo to pout and glare at the young boy. You follow Megumi out of the room as Gojo grumbles to himself.
Watching Megumi and Tsumiki race each other to the houses as Gojo had his arm tightly wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. It made a warm feeling bubble in your chest as you looked up at Gojo.
" 'Toru, I'm so glad we took them in" You sigh, placing your head on his shoulder.
"Me too, even if they take you away from me at times" He smiles as you pinch his side.
"Ouchie!!" He pouts at you.
Megumi and Tsumiki had begun to get tired so you were on your way back to the apartment. You carry Megumi in your arms as he softly snores into your shoulder while Tsumiki tightly holds onto Gojo's hand, a sight that made you fall even more in love with Gojo.
On the walk home a woman has stopped the four of you.
"I'm so sorry to stop you, but I just wanted to say how adorable it is that you went out and dressed up with your children. You guys must be the best parents to these little cuties" The woman's words made your heart soar and Gojo could see that written on your face.
Her words stayed with you even after you had tucked Megumi and Tsumiki into bed and were on your way to bed yourself.
You pulled the covers over yourself before turning to Gojo who was already looking over at you, "Do you think we'd make good parents?"
"I think...we already do make good parents" Gojo kisses the temple of your head with love in his eyes.
☆ | HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! i wanted to post something for halloween so here it is, i hope you enjoyed!!
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eds6ngel · 8 months
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I'll read anything you write for the teacher au. But yeah I need to know how their first date was and how Alena reacts to it <333 They just deserve to be happy :')
thank you so much nonnie! and they do :)) i hope you enjoy ♡
warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. mention of cleavage. swearing. food mentions. alcohol mentions. very fluffy. pet names. mutual pining. platonic stobin being my favourite duo in the world. rovickie being cute as always. alena being the biggest shipper on planet earth. it's just super cute and fluffy really! [2.8k].
full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.
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If Steve was being honest with himself, he was scared shitless to go on a date with you.
He tried every possible way to come up with some crappy excuse to say he was busy, but Robin and Vickie egged him on to their heart’s content.
So, that’s where he was now. Robin and Vickie had picked up Alena just over an hour ago, huge purple backpack disproportionally sitting on her body, the seven-year-old toddling out the door with the couple to spend the night at theirs, Steve’s date with you ending past her bedtime.
He felt like he checked himself in the mirror over one hundred times, or maybe he did, he’d lost track at that point.
And once he arrived at your doorstep, he spent five minutes arranging every hair on his head in the rear view mirror, mumbling to himself, “Goddamn Farrah Fawcett, why aren’t you working?”
And from the other side of the door, you were just as nervous as him. Styled in a long, sequin-covered, dark blue dress that reached the floor, hair done up in a loose bun, you almost felt that you were overdressed.
But, with Steve taking you to Enzo’s, a very posh restaurant on the outskirts of Hawkins, you felt you had to look the part.
And thank God you did, because when you opened your front door to him, he was wearing a full-blown suit. White shirt, black tie, black blazer and trousers, he was the smartest you’d ever seen him.
“Jesus…” he mutters to himself, taking in how beautiful you looked. He thought you looked pretty in your modest, child-friendly uniform, but the dress you were wearing? The gorgeous slit up the leg and the v-neck that showed just the perfect about of cleavage? It was enough to make him fall head over heels in love.
You smile at him, replying with a giggle, “Hello to you too, handsome.”
“Shit, um… Yeah, you just… God, you look beautiful. Like… so beautiful.”
You place your hand to your chest, beaming back, “Thank you!” And that’s when he noticed your nails. The overall colour was a gorgeous cream, but the tips matched up perfectly with the colour of your dress. You had been planning this out all week.
“Um… shall we get going? Reservations at 7:30,” he asks.
You hum, “We shall. How far is Enzo’s?”
“Around thirty minutes. You good with that?”
He helps you into the car, making sure your dress doesn’t get caught or tangled, you replying, “I’m good with anything, Steve.”
The drive there had Steve panicking like crazy. Did he put his hand on your thigh? Or was that too soon? Maybe it was too soon. Hold your hand? No, both hands on the steering wheel, he doesn’t want to crash.
And if he wasn’t overthinking that enough, the choice of restaurant was freaking him out even more. Was it too formal? Did you want something more simplistic? Was it too much for a first date?
But, there was no time to worry as he turns left into the parking lot of the restaurant. After being a gentleman, taking your hand and helping you out of his car, you don’t seem to let go, letting your fingers interlace with his. His hands match the softness of when your lips first touched his, delicate and gentle.
“Hi. Um, two for Harrington?”
The waiting staff smiles, directly the two of them to a small, dainty table; covered with a red cloth decorated with golden flowers; in the back corner of the restaurant.
Steve pulls out your chair, you quickly thanking him as he sits opposite you, careful not to waste the woman’s time.
She lays the two menus on the table in front of you, “Here are your menus. Feel free to look at our wine list for the evening. Someone will be over in five to take your orders.”
You both thank her as you open the menus, Steve looking utterly confused at the very well described options.
“Okay, what the hell is an Ore— Orecchiette ai Cime di Rapa? Or a… Vermicelli Alla Puttane— Puttanesca?”
You giggle at him, “Pasta dishes, Steve. I can help you out if you want? I’m pretty accustomed to Italian names.”
He looks up at you in shock, “You speak Italian?”
You shake your head, sighing out, “I wish. I’ve been to Italy before though. So, I’ve done my research into the Italian names for pastas.”
He breathes out, smiling away, moving his hair out of his face with his hand, “I mean… I was thinking if you did, then…” He whistles, making you flirt back, “Better start taking some Italian language courses then.”
Before Steve gets the chance to reply, the waiter returns asking for your drinks. You tell her the fancy name of some simple red wine, Steve ordering the same, even if it wasn’t his drink of choice. He was trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
After explaining the different types of pastas they had on offer, he ends up ordering the Tagliatelle al Ragú Alla Bolognese, noticing the key words of foods he likes. You order the Pesto alla Genovese, deciding to add in some well-needed greens into your diet. It was very apparent that you and your roommate Amy had not been the healthiest as of late.
Once the waiter leaves, you lean your head on your hand, laughing to yourself as you ask, “God, this sounds so stupid… But, tell me about yourself, Steve. I mean, I sort of only know you as Alena’s dad, I would like to know about you as a whole.”
“Of course, yeah…” he pauses for a second, trying to make himself sound as interesting as possible. He doesn’t want to steer you away. But, what he doesn’t know is nothing could ever steer you away.
“I grew up here in Hawkins, went to Hawkins High and everything. Worked at an ice cream store and met my best friend Robin there, and then we moved onto working at a video rental store because the mall we worked at burnt down. Stayed there for a couple years until Alena was around two years old. Well, more than a couple… more like seven years,” he chuckles, “Then I moved onto being a bagger at Target, and have been ever since.” He smiles, before shrugging, “I know, I’m a pretty boring person with a pretty crappy job, but I am what I am.”
You reach out to rub your thumbs over the top of his hand, calming the boy, although he wasn’t presenting it on the outside. “I think you’re super interesting, Steve.”
He can’t help but let the smile creep onto his face, “Thank you. I’m sure your life is a lot more interesting that mine though.”
You wave your hand, brushing off his smooth compliment, “Oh please, you wish! Well, I grew up in Missouri, so not super far from here. Had a pretty average childhood, doing average childhood things. But, somehow, on a complete whim mind you, I got onto the education program at Perdue University. Still don’t know to this day how I did that, but nonetheless,” you smile, “Got my college degree and then worked at Hawkins Elementary. And, well… you know the rest of the story.”
He raises his eyebrows at you, “You wish, my ass. That is so much more interesting than mine!”
You open your mouth up in fake shock, “I guarantee you it is not! I’d rather work at Target than be studying 24/7.”
He snorts, “I’d rather do none.”
“Makes the two of us. I’m guessing you’re not much of an academic then?”
The mention of his academics bring back memories he forgot he even had stored in his brain. “You think an academic guy would be working as a bagger at Target?”
You hold your hands up in detest, “Hey, I’m not one to judge! It could’ve been your personal choice!”
“Definitely not.”
The rest of the date went amazingly well. A little too well for your liking. You were waiting for Steve to hate the way you eat, or for you to spill wine down your dress, or trip up on the way out of the restaurant. But, none of that happened. It went perfectly.
Your conversation points varied from favourite childhood memories, to favourite movies (which you judged immensely), to life goals and everything in between. And with each answer Steve gave, you fell more and more in love with him, as did he with you.
The car stops in front of your apartment block, Steve already getting out of the driver’s side and running around to your door, taking your hand and walking you up to the main entrance.
“I— Um, I had fun tonight,” he nervously says, looking down at his feet scuffing along the floor.
“I did too,” you smile, a small blush forming on your face as you grab his right hand, “And I was wondering if you’d like to go out again sometime.”
“Sure,” he blurts out a little too eagerly for his liking, “I’m pretty much free any night of the week. Just need to check with a friend if they can have Alena for the night first.”
“Of course,” you say, “Um… Do you have a pen or anything? I could write down my number and then you can let me know if whatever day we choose is fine? I was thinking maybe Wednesday? We can plan out the details on the phone.”
“Yeah, I do… At least I think. One second,” he pauses, sprinting back down the steps and to his car, leaning through the open window, you giggling at his rushed manner, obviously not wanting to leave you standing there alone for too long.
He returns, holding up a pen and smiling brightly, “Got it! Just, uh…” he pulls up the sleeve of his blazer, “Write it on my forearm.”
“Are you sure? Ink poisoning can be a dangerous thing.” Jesus, you were the cutest.
He brushes it off, “I’ll be fine. And if I do, I’ll happily let you nurse me back to health.”
With a messy scribble of numbers written in blue on the inside of his arm, a part of you was now etched into his skin. It felt like a connection, even if it would trickle right off in the shower he has later tonight.
“There you go!” you smile, clicking the pen off and passing it back to him. Biting your lip, you place a tender kiss to his left cheek, making the poor boy turn bright red. “Thank you for tonight, Steve. I’ll potentially see you Wednesday?”
“Yeah…” he breathes out, “Wednesday.”
And before he knows it, he’s left standing outside your apartment block with a blue pen loosely held in his hand, you leaving him to enter your home.
It was safe to say that you were not leaving his mind anytime soon.
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With three raps at the door, it swung open, Alena grinning at him, bouncing on her toes as Robin and Vickie stand tall above her.
“Daddy!” she beams, body-slamming herself into his leg with full force, looking up to him with bright eyes, “How was the date?”
He couldn’t help but tell his daughter the minute he got home from the grocery store earlier that week about his date with you. Let’s just say that he had a very happy child zooming around his house for the next five hours, slightly regretting sharing the news when it took her an extra two hours to fall asleep.
“It went well, pumpkin! Miss. L/N was super nice. She’s a very lovely woman.”
It felt strange calling you by your last name, but he felt you should be the one to share that information with Alena, not sure how quickly you wanted to move past the barrier of being her former teacher.
“Yay!” she bounces, shaking his leg all over the place, him ruffling her hair to calm her down.
“So, did you two kiss?” Robin asks, wiggling her eyebrows at her best friend with a smirk plastered on her face.
“Ew, gross Robin!” he grimaces.
“What?” she defends herself, “You’ve already kissed before! It’s not like I’m way off the mark with that or anything.”
He shakes his head, pinching the bridge between his brows, “No, Robin. She kissed my cheek, that’s it. You happy?”
She scrunches up her face, before blinking rapidly and shaking her head, “You straights are so weird. I kissed Vickie on the first date and we had our own apartment three months later.”
“That’s because you lesbians move exponentially fast!”
“Hey!” Vickie butts in, “I’m bisexual.”
“Fine,” Steve scoffs, the couple knowing that he was only joking with them, “You women… who love other women move exponentially fast!”
“I would just say the straights move exponentially slow…” Robin mumbles, scratching the back of her neck.
Steve shakes his head, “Anyway, we are planning another date next week, so I was wondering—”
“Yes,” both girls say in sync.
“You didn’t even know what I was gonna ask,” Steve asks with a look of confusion on his face.
“Yes, we can look after Alena,” Robin playfully rolls her eyes.
“There’s a second date?” Alena beams.
Steve chuckles, ruffling his daughter’s hair once again, “Yes, pumpkin. There’s a second date.”
“Yes!” she exclaims, clenching her fists together and jumping up and down. “I wanna know about this date, and the next date, and all the dates ever!”
“Of course sweetpea, I’ll tell you during the car ride home, okay?”
She simply giggles, squeezing her eyes tight and showing off all of her teeth, or at least the ones that were there. Her front two were currently missing, her reaching the age where her baby teeth had started to fall out, mysterious dollar notes appearing underneath her pillow every few weeks.
“Besides, I was going to ask because I thought Vickie had that work meeting next Wednesday?” Steve queries.
But, Vickie instantly brushes it off, “Yeah, but Robin can handle her for a few hours on her own, can’t you babe?”
“Of course my love, this little cupcake is the easiest to look after, unlike her father,” she looks up at Steve with a deadpan expression, him sticking his tongue out right back at her, the most age-appropriate gesture he could think of with his seven-year-old attached to his leg. “We’ve got her for the afternoon, overnight, two days, a whole month, however long you need.”
Steve replicates her deadpan expression as she shrugs, “What? If it took you two five years to suck each other’s faces off, I will raise your daughter for the rest of her childhood.”
“Robin!” he shouts at her, signalling down to his little girl, warning her of her more mature use of language.
“Sorry,” she holds her hands up, pursing her lips.
“What my beautiful wife is meaning to say is we will happily have your daughter over whenever you have a date with your girl,” Vickie steps in, taking a more adult approach, Robin’s immaturity still shining through after all these years.
“Thanks Vic,” he smiles, hoisting his daughter up onto his hip with an overexaggerated grunt, pretending she is much heavier than she is, making her giggle, “Right, I better get this toothache home, I’ll see you guys on Wednesday!” He begins to turn around, before looking back and pointing to Vickie, “And good luck with that meeting!”
“Thanks Steve! See you on Wednesday!” she waves at him, Robin smirking and yelling at the top of her lungs, “Bye dingus!”
He shakes his head as he opens the car door, placing Alena down in her car-seat as he makes his way around to the driver’s side. He barely makes it two inches off of Robin and Vickie’s driveway before Alena shouts, “Tell me everything!”
“All right, all right,” he replies, trying not to get too scared by his daughter’s outburst, “Let me get onto the road first and then I’ll give you every last detail, okay?”
“Okay!” she giggles, kicking her feet.
And not only did the questions last the car ride home, but they continued for the rest of the day. Alena wanted to know absolutely everything that went down, from the minute he saw you to the minute he bid farewell. But, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. It was you after all, and even if it was to his seven-year-old daughter, he would talk about you for the rest of his life.
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hope you enjoyed!! ♡
taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 let me know in the comments if you want to be added/removed from the series spinoffs!
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jerzwriter · 3 months
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Different Destinations
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I know I said tomorrow, @juudaimes-true-form, but I couldn't sleep anyway, so I did it now! Thanks so much for the three-word prompt: Jackie, Casey, Postcard. I did have to add Tobias to go in the direction I wanted to with this; I hope you don't mind. 😊
Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Featuring: Tobias x Casey Carrick, Jackie Varma Rating: Teen Words: 1,040 Summary: Casey & Jackie are spending a Sunday afternoon together; it's just like their roomie days - but then again, it's not. A/N: For those unfamiliar with my Tobias x Casey HC - Tobias comes from an extremely wealthy background on his father's side, whereas Casey's family really struggled financially. Per canon, Jackie had a childhood more in line with Casey's. This story takes place Post Book 3, about a year after their daughter's birth. @choicesjanuary2024 Day 7 - Reflection
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It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and it felt like old times. Casey and Jackie were lounging on the couch with a spread of snacks that both would have advised patients against eating laid out before them. That and wine... copious amounts of wine. They spent an hour catching up and laughing, and then they began the painful process of selecting a movie. They had to resort to a flip of a coin, and Jackie groaned when Casey's choices won. Another freaking romcom. Yep, it was just like old times... until a rustling noise from the corner of the room served as a reminder. It wasn't old times, Casey had a husband now.
"Babe," she said, stretching her neck over the couch. "Whatcha doing?"
"I told you, I'm going to go through my storage boxes in the basement. I want to make that area into a play space for Samantha, so I need to clear it out."
"12.5 rooms in this townhome, and you choose to do that in the one we're in?" Jackie quipped.
Tobias replied with a bright grin. "Aw, Jackie... you know I can never stay far away from you. Besides, I thought you might want to see some of my childhood memorabilia."
Jackie rolled her eyes as Casey assured him she'd love to see his trinkets, but they were watching a movie right now. Jackie's eyes flicked toward the screen, and she realized she found her salvation. One last look at Sandra Bullock, and she grabbed the remote.
"You know what, Tobias, this is the perfect opportunity to get to know you better!" She smiled.
"You see!" Tobias replied enthusiastically. "You see Casey! Jackie's making a valiant effort here!"
"Tobias," Casey sighed. "She’s trying to get out of watching The Proposal again.”
Tobias leaned in toward Jackie with a smirk. “Shit, we can bond over that, too.”  
Casey threw a pillow his way. “I can hear you! So, now that you two have interrupted my movie I’ll never know what happened to Sandra and Ryan....”
“Like you haven't seen this twenty times,” Jackie injected.
“... as I was saying, since you interrupted my movie, let’s see what you’ve got there.”
“Well, there’s this,” he grinned, holding up a small, green felt teddy bear that had seen better days.
“Please tell me that has sentimental value," Jackie said, tossing the object to Casey. "Because if it doesn't, and that’s what you’ve chosen to hold on to, I'm going to judge you."
“It does! That’s the first stuffed animal anyone ever won for me at a carnival.”
“Oh, really!” Casey teased. “And who won this for you, dear?”
Tobias sat back, cupping his hands behind his head. “Annabelle Worthington. We were in fifth grade.”
“Wait, shouldn’t you have won it for her?” Jackie mocked.
“We don’t do that sexist shit in this house, Jackie. Besides, I offered to let her keep it, and she said no. I was a hot commodity even then, ladies!"
Both of the women groaned and grabbed their glasses of wine.
“You know, I think we should go back to the movie,” Jackie suggested. “It may be better than your husband.”
Jackie and Casey’s conversation turned back to a patient as Tobias continued to scavenge through the box, soon after, he interrupted them once more.
“Holy shit! Look at this!” He gushed. “I haven’t seen this in forever.”
“What is it?” Casey asked.
Tobias handed them a stack of old postcards and stood over their shoulders to tell them about each one.
“That's when we went to Disney World when I was five. My brother wasn’t around yet, so I got all the attention.”
“Ah, so that's where it began,” Casey jested.
Ignoring her, Tobias tapped on the postcard Jackie was holding.
“And that’s Hawaii. We went to that resort every year. My parents made it a holiday tradition to avoid half our relatives,” he chuckled. “I didn’t realize that last part until I was older.”
“Where is this one from?” Casey asked. 
“That’s Tanzania,” he said enthusiastically. “When we went on a safari for my twelfth birthday! Damn, I have to go find the pictures from that trip!”
After a few more, Tobias gathered the cards and tucked them away in the box. “So what about you guys? Do you have any postcards from your vacation spots growing up?”
Casey and Jackie exchanged a look, eyes glimmering mischievously, they knew what they were about to do.
“Well, I don’t know?” Casey hummed. “But I'll call my mother. I’m sure she saved some. They're probably tucked away in our summer home. What about you, Jackie?”
“Me? Nah, they couldn't possibly be in any of our homes. After all, there were too many! But they may be in our family archives."
“All right...” Tobias said, slightly abashed. But they weren't done with him yet.
“Where did you go most frequently?” Casey asked.
“Me? Usually, the water park... you know... I was lucky because it was right down the street from me. It was open every summer, well... until the firefighters arrived and insisted on recapping the hydrants. Then all the fun was over."
“Oh, yes! We had a waterpark like that in Philly, too! Did you ever go to that location?”
“Nope, can’t say I did! But there was that special year when we went camping... to rough it.”
“Really, and where did you go? The Adirondacks? Jackson Hole?"
“My living room... the gas and electricity was shut off for a few days... that's why we were roughing it.”
"Damn! And you don't have a postcard of that?"
“All right, all right!” Tobias insisted. “I'm sorry. Sometimes, I forget that everyone wasn't an entitled ass like I was."
“Was?” Jackie smirked.
“Really, I’m sorry. I'm an idiot."
“Yeah," Casey grinned, reaching over to pat his but. "But you’re a cute idiot."
“Speak for yourself on that!" Jackie stated as she stuffed Cheeto in her mouth.
“Will you forgive me if I make you ladies homemade pizza for dinner?"
“That would be a start,” Casey nodded. “If you go get us ice cream for dessert, I think I can let it go.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jackie kidded. “I’m not forgiving him until he takes me to Tanzania!”
Tobias scurried out of the room, and Casey flipped the TV back on to Jackie’s great disappointment.
“You know, he’s really not an ass,” Casey insisted. “But every now and then, he forgets we weren’t all to the manor born.”
“Oh, I know,” Jackie shrugged. “But I hope he says something stupid like that every time I come over."
“Really? Why?”
“Because the man makes a great homemade pizza."
Thanks so much for reading! :)
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
Tagging others separately.
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its-time-to-write · 8 months
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ch. 7 - hustling for the good life
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table of contents
if you made it to the end, thank you🥰
the way forward
Touring is absolutely insane. It’s not as crazy as some people’s like, say, Allie Gooding, but it’s still so. Much. Work. You don’t really dance, mostly hold your guitar while sitting in the middle of a stage while people twirl and leap behind you.
It’s a Blue Glass tour, technically speaking, but Mango is by far the highlight.
You’re in the city of its origin, with its muses sitting front and center. 
“I’ll let you go/Because it’s best for me/I slip out the back/And turn the key,” the audience sings.
i saw u on tiktok, Jamie texts that night. fukig mint the way the crowd sang all the words.
Claire was crying, you type back. And why can’t you ever spell “fuck” correctly??
cant all be smarty pants musicians, Jamie writes. Then, been blessed to be a dumb, sexy footballer.
Ok, I have to go to sleep. Flying to some small city tomorrow afternoon. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Called something like idk, Landon? Lodan?
He asks, u still staying at mine?
Yep. Can’t wait!!
FUCKIMG M I N T, Jamie responds.
You’ve been in Richmond for approximately four hours, just long enough to say hi to Keeley, eat dinner, and, you know, ditch Natalie so you and Jamie can make up for time spent apart.
“That’s disgusting,” she says before hopping into the hired car.
“Ok miss ‘I fucked-‘”
“WHOA, ok,” she says, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m out of here.”
But now you’re laying in Jamie’s bed as he runs his hand up and down your arm, tucked against his side.
“You’re bringing the team to the show tomorrow, right?” you ask.
“Hm,” Jamie agrees.
“Cool,” you say softly, “Do you think they’re going to want to meet the musical guest?”
“Yes,” Jamie says immediately. “Lads’ve been hounding me all week. Even fucking Ted’s been asking.”
You smile. “Seems no one’s immune to the charms of Allie Gooding.”
“I fucking knew it,” Jamie gasps. “Fucking knew it. You gonna do Creekside?”
“Yeah,” you say.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he asks, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “How you do all this shit, I don’t know.”
You’re silent. The truth is, you don’t even know how you do all this shit. Natalie is barely managing to keep your head on straight as it is. At first, it was fun to travel. Now, you just want a good night of sleep.
You have an especially hard time with meet and greets. It always feels too crowded and stifling, and there’s no Jamie to hold your hand or sneak you out the door so nine times out of ten, you have a panic attack while pretending that everything’s fine.
You’d be happy never touring again, just playing your guitar for Jamie in the living room. Writing songs for the people you love and only for the people you love. Mango felt important in a way that Blue Glass didn’t. It had a message and actually helped people, whether or not they knew it.
Claire sent you a small video every time her song was playing in a shop or on the radio, then end the song by clasping her thumb and index finger into a heart. She sent one of her and the other women in her new house, dancing to Kitchen Epiphany.
“We wouldn’t be here without you, babe!” she said at the end.
But she was wrong. You wouldn’t be there without her. It’s wrong, all wrong, but you only have a couple nights with Jamie so you roll on top of him and press your lips to his.
You’re in Greece less than a week and a half later, sporting a Tartt jersey as you pull up to your hotel.
Natalie’s been making wiggly eyes at you the whole time you’ve had it on but you don’t care because you’re almost done with this godforsaken tour and you haven’t broken up with Jamie. He still loves you, for some reason you don’t understand.
But hey, you’ve never claimed to understand the male brain.
As you make the mad dash from the car into the safety of the lobby, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn and see Donovan, your most recent ex. He’s smiling and holding hands with a girl you used to see around his photoshoots.
“How have you been?” he asks warmly. 
“Good!” you say. “Hopping all around the world, but good!”
He’s still smiling that picture-perfect smile. “Saw you’re dating Jamie Tartt. You guys actually look happy together. Just like me and Zoe. Unless, of course, it’s show?”
“Oh,” you reply, startled. “I, uh, well,”
“It’s ok,” Donovan interjects. “Zo knows we weren’t actually dating.”
“Oh,” you say again, relieved. You never did feel the need to act around Donovan. “Yeah, no, it’s real. At least, it feels real. Wasn’t set up by a PR firm or anything and we’ve been able to keep it pretty quiet.”
Donovan nods. “You’ve always been good in staying out of trouble. Me, not so much.” 
Zoe grins from her place on his arm. “Yeah, but now we get into quiet trouble. We’re getting married this week, and no one even knows that we’re dating.”
She holds out her hand to show you and Natalie the biggest ring you’ve ever seen.
“Nice,” Natalie says. “But we’ve got to check in. Great to see you, Donny.”
“God,” she says as she drags you away, “that could’ve been you. You would have made perfect plastic babies with that absolute fucking Ken.”
“Hey, Dono was nice,” you defend.
“Uh huh. What with all that… personality.”
Ok fine, so maybe he was rather one-dimensional. He and Danielle seem perfectly happy. You’re glad that he’s doing well, despite your so-called “torrid love affair.”
You’ll have to drop by their room at some point to catch up for real.
You end up going out to a club with him. And Natalie and Danielle of course, but as you step through the doors, you’re kicking yourself. Why did you think this was a good idea? It smells and it’s crowded, but you’re going to suck it up for Natalie, and for the sake of socialization. Your only consolation is that pretty much everyone will be too drunk to know who you are.
It’s all fine, you’ve had some water and you’re dancing with Natalie when the lights hit your eyes wrong, or maybe the beat dropped when you weren’t expecting it, but it doesn’t actually matter because your eyes go wide and you feel like you’re drowning. You push your way through the crowd out the door, barely noticing Donovan and Zoe hot on your heels.
“Hey,” he calls after you, “you alright?”
No, you want to say. No, you’re not alright because you’re with a bunch of strangers and you just want to be home with Jamie. You want to kick a football around with him on the weekends and hold his hand and be alone. You can feel tears sliding down your cheeks, and Donovan cups your face in his hands to wipe them away. 
“Maybe we should go,” he says concerned. Zoe’s leaning against a wall, phone out. 
“Already got an Uber,” she says. “You’ll be ok, babe.”
Donovan presses a kiss to your forehead. “C’est pas de problème,” he says. “Ne stresses pas.”
You can tell something’s wrong the moment you wake up. Maybe because you can’t hear Natalie in the other room or maybe it’s intuition, but the air isn’t right. You open up your phone to Instagram and find a picture of you and Donovan from last night. He’s holding your face and looking at you with what you know is concern, but to the observer looks like- love?
Oh shit.
The caption is the standard bullshit - “Forest Fire singer reignites old flame,” and you think you might be sick.
You keep scrolling and there’s another one, this time with Donovan kissing your forehead. The caption underneath is a rant to the effect of, how could you cheat on Jamie Tartt? What a greedy little bitch.
The more you go, the more you find. It’s the same set of pictures with the same set of captions.
It’s the damage to your public image that concerns you. You’ve been around long enough to know that it will blow over, especially because it’s unsubstantiated. You’re thinking of Jamie.
Oh god, what’s he going to think? You’re positive he’s seen it already, because how could he not? It’s so rare that you have a so-called scandal, that you’re trending. If he didn’t find it on his own, one of his friends definitely sent it to him.
Your phone is blowing up with news notifications and text messages. You have ten missed calls from Natalie an inbox full of voicemails. You’ll probably delete all of them without listening. 
But what you really care about is Jamie because in the plethora of messages all you’ve gotten from him is a single fucking voice memo. It’s five seconds long, the exact amount of time it takes to say “fuck you,” and you don’t want to open it. 
But a voice in your head compels you, the same voice that gave you the ok to fall in love with him in the first place, so before you can talk yourself out if it you press play and hold it up to your ear. 
“Hey,” says Jamie’s voice. “I love you.”
And that’s it. 
You don’t even try to calculate what time it is in London, you just hit the call button.
“Hey,” says Jamie’s real, actual voice.
“Hi,” you breathe. “I love you. And I hate touring. And press. I just want to make my songs and never fucking tour again. Donovan and I weren’t even doing anything. I had a goddamn panic attack and he was helping me calm down, and his literal fiancée is like three feet off camera but no one knows they’re together because fuck the press.”
Jamie chuckles. “No one’s making you do all this, love. You don’t owe people anythin’. You can just live your life without selling it. But like, if you want to sell it you can. You know?”
“Yeah,” you say.
“Oi. Look. Are you actually doing what you want? Because if it ain’t making you happy, you can stop.” 
You can hear a muffled voice in the background before you have a chance to respond. 
“Yeah, it’s her,” Jamie says to the voice. 
There’s a chorus of your name as Jamie says, “Dani and the lads say hi.”
“Tell them I say hi,” you respond. “Wait, where are you? It’s like nine there. Are you at training?”
“Weight room,” Jamie says, “but don’t get distracted. Are you happy?”
“No,” you say. “No, I’m not I want to- I want to play my guitar in your backyard and talk to Clare and help out Christine and not give Natalie a fucking aneurism every single day. I want to be able to sleep and not worry what people think of me and I want to like singing again. I want to visit my friends and have time to listen to their music and maybe I’ll tour with them, but only for fun. And most of all, I want to be with you. I want to go to all your matches and wear so much red and blue that I look like a gremlin and then I want to go home with you. And I want, like, domestic stuff too, like grocery shopping and cooking and- and-”
“And brushing our teeth at the same time,” Jamie helpfully supplies.
“Yes,” you say. “I’m really tired of all this.”
“Well,” Jamie says, “you’ve got one more week. Then fucking come home.”
You tell Natalie she’s fired, just to see the look on her face. 
She starts yelling when you tell her you’re kidding but only kind of and then she hits you with her purse, stringing together curses in both English and Spanish.
She’s less mad when you give her a raise and tell her she’s now in charge of managing all your shit so you don’t have to.
“I thought that’s what I was doing already,” she says, and now it’s your turn to smack her.
“First decision I’m making is switching to KJPR,” she says.
You ask, “What the fuck is that?” with a nose wrinkle.
Nat just grins. “Keeley’s PR firm.”
You let out a scream. “NO FUCKING WAY. NO FUCKING WAY! How did I miss that??”
Natalie shrugs and says, “She told me to pass on the message because she figured you were busy. I sent her a very nice gift basket from you.”
You sigh and grab Natalie for a hug. “You’re the absolute best, you know that?”
“Uh huh,” she says. “You’d be dead without me.”
It’s off-season, a year later. You’re on a beach in Brazil, lying in a chair next to Keeley, who’s in a hot-pink bikini.
“I never want to go back to England,” she says, sipping her drink.
You laugh. “I think your boytoy would disagree.”
She huffs and says, “Not my fault he has all that fucking hair. And anyway, he’s the one who wanted to come!”
“Fucking grandad,” Jamie grumbles good-naturedly next to you.
“You invited him,” you say. “You said, ‘Babe, Roy has to be there when we elope.’”
“How was I supposed to know he hated the sun?” Jamie asks, exasperated. “Twat never said anything!”
“He wears black all the time and never smiles, babe. He’s basically a vampire. You should’ve known.”
“I can fucking hear you,” Roy says from under the umbrella. “I’m not fucking deaf.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose and say, “I’m just glad Natalie left yesterday. Some honeymoon this is.”
Jamie gets up from his chair and flops on top of you. 
“Oof,” you grunt.
“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “Hey, think there’s a pitch ‘round here? I brought my boots. Think they’re under the bed, love.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “‘Football is life,’ or whatever. I’m gonna write a hit song about how my husband likes a fucking ball better than me.”
“I’d pay good money to hear that,” Roy says.
Jamie props himself up on his forearms and puts on his most angelic expression. “That’s me, the adorable yet sexy trophy husband. I’m your muse.”
“You’re something,” you say. “Ooh, I think I can use that in the song!”
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gryphonlover · 7 months
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Whumptober 2023 Day 7
Prompt: alleyway
Victim: Four
Words: 907
Notes: It's the anniversary of Shadow's death. Death anniversaries suck, especially if they're for people that you were close to before they died.
Four… couldn't exactly say that he enjoyed doing errand runs, but he also couldn't exactly say that he didn't enjoy doing errand runs. The part of his brain that is, or maybe was, Vio reminded him that the word "apathy" existed. 
That seemed to fit. Four was apathetic about doing errand runs. 
Sometimes they went well, like when Wild buzzed through town like he was hunting down his Zelda again, and all Four had to do was come along and provide minimal opinions on which fruit was correctly ripe. (He had no idea, he just ate the food and hoped for the best.) Sometimes they went poorly, like when Legend and Warriors both went only to abandon him with the shopping list in favor of stocking up on whatever things they used for personal reasons. (One of the few times they got along.) 
So Four wasn't exactly pleased to be shopping with Sky, but he wasn't exactly displeased either. He was distinctly apathetic. 
They had been assigned to collect the things that the knights had decided they needed to restock the medical kits with. Sky made the whole process a lot easier, since he knew what he was looking for, and all Four had to do was carry things. Pretty simple.
They had just collected all of the cotton, gauze, and other types of fabrics they needed from one of the shops when something caught Four's eye. Something was off about his shadow today. It leaned just a bit too far towards an alleyway.
Now, Four didn't know a lot of things. He didn't know Lorulean, he didn't know how to suture a wound, and he definitely didn't know how to calculate a trajectory for a flying object. But the thing that he did know was shadows. Only Hylia knew how many hours he had spent staring at his shadow and other people's shadows. Well, shadows in general, really.
…okay, so maybe he'd gotten a little bit obsessed with shadows after the whole Four Sword thing, but that wasn't the point!
The point was that he needed to give Sky an excuse so he could go into that alleyway and figure out what was going on with his stupid shadow.
A nudge to his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts. 
"Um."
"Are you okay?" Sky asked, concern evident on his face. "You seemed a bit…" 
"I'm fine!" Four protested. "It's nothing, I just… need to take a breather. You know." 
Sky seemed suspicious, but nodded. "Alright. Do you want to sit down at one of the benches we passed earlier?" 
Four shook his head. "No, I'll be fine, you go ahead and I'll catch up with you at the apothecary's shop." He punctuated the statement with a smile that he hoped was convincing enough.
Sky didn't really look convinced, but he relented. "Alright. But if I finish up, and you're not there yet, then I'm coming to find you." 
Four resisted the urge to roll his eyes and settled for a sigh. "I can handle myself." 
Sky raised an eyebrow. 
"I know, I know, teamwork, blah blah blah, just… just go, okay? I promise it won't take long." 
Sky hesitated at the sound of weariness in his brother's voice, but left him alone like he'd said he would.
Four's shoulders sagged. Goddesses, he felt tired. He… he missed Shadow. 
He shook himself out of his thoughts, pulling himself out of the reverie he could feel himself slipping into as he rearranged the things in his bag. He peeked into the alleway, his shadow stretching unnaturally towards a corner in the back with a couple of empty wooden crates.
The alleyway was your normal alleyway, not very wide, and not very well-lit. Why Shadow– his shadow wanted to go there, he didn't know, but he cautiously creeped forward anyway. He ran a hand along the rough brick wall to his left, memories of the time Vio had taken Shadow out on "dates" before… he rubbed a hand across his face. Now was not a great time to have a mental breakdown.
He grabbed one of the crates and set it upright, sitting down on it. The wood was pale and rough, but more than sturdy enough to hold his weight. He had put on a little weight with Wild's cooking, but he'd never weighed very much to begin with.
His shadow wavered on the wall across from him, and if he squinted, he could almost make out a thin sliver of light that sort of danced across it like a smile.
Just like his smile. It had been a while since he'd thought about Shadow last, but now everything trickled back into his mind. Every time Blue had cursed Shadow out, every time Red had tried to hug him, every time Green had rolled his eyes at a joke, every time Vio had read a book to him… the resulting swirl of emotions was overwhelming, and he found himself staring at the wall as tears rolled down his face, paralyzed by the strength of what he was feeling.
He didn't bother to try and keep track of the time, and sure enough, Sky showed up just as he'd said he would.
Four didn't have it in him to explain. All he could do was look despairingly at Sky and allow himself to be gently led back to camp to grieve in peace. 
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batty4steddie · 4 months
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Can I Keep It?
@spicycinnabun and I's contribution to steddiebang 2023! ❤️️ | Chapters: 3/12 | Rating: M | Read, kudos or comment on ao3 | We have a playlist. ❤️️ | Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Chapter 3: Study Hard
Eddie spent the ride to Steve’s house sandwiched between Dustin and Max in the backseat because, of course, as soon as they got outside, Robin called shotgun. 
Max was leaning with her forehead pressed against the window and her eyes closed, and Dustin was working his way through a bag of sour gummy worms because, "Road snacks, guys.” 
Eddie accepted one, wrapping it around his finger and tearing off the head with his teeth. He let out a soft breath when the boathouse disappeared from view and let Dustin talk his ear off for the rest of the trip.  *
Steve’s house wasn’t too far. It was in a nicer neighborhood but still close to the lake. In fact, his room had a pretty good view of it. 
Once they arrived, Steve noticed that his mom's car was gone. At least sneaking Eddie in wouldn’t be an issue. She must have gone to the store. 
Usually, after he and his dad went to work, she turned into the couch potato she had been since she’d figured out his dad had been running around on her. She’d been depressed for a while now but kept up appearances in front of his dad and the rest of the town.  
She’d finally told Steve about his dad cheating because she had gotten so upset after his dad called to say he wasn’t coming home for dinner. To Steve, that was nothing new—he was always missing dinner for work—but now Steve knew why. 
He hadn’t liked his dad much before he knew that. He was always so hard on him. Nothing Steve did was ever good enough. No matter how many basketball games or swim meets he won, that was nothing compared to his dad’s high school football career and the scholarship that had gotten him into college. Those things led him to an amazingly successful career as a salesman… who then cheated on his high school sweetheart. Steve was bitter and hated cheaters.  
His house was slightly secluded, with lots of greenery and big trees surrounding it. Since the lake was behind the house, there wouldn’t be any nosy neighbors catching Eddie Munson being willingly led into the Harrington house. 
Steve got out of the car and waited for Eddie. “Looks like my mom is at the store or something. You just gotta keep it down when she gets back.” 
Harrington’s place seemed more like a museum than a house. It was nestled in the trees, had two stories, and big full-length windows that wrapped around to the back. Eddie had driven past Steve’s a few times before, unknowingly. He was only ever in this area of Hawkins for drug deals. Rich seniors were his best customers.     Eddie nudged Dustin to let him out of the car.  “I promise not to blast any of Satan’s music while your mom is home,” Eddie vowed, raising his hands in a show of good faith.
He and Steve left the kids, and Robin, who still had a shrewd look in her eyes as she observed them, while they walked up and around the property. 
According to Steve, nobody was home, yet most lights were still on inside. It was sorta lonely looking, Eddie thought. It was like somebody had turned all the lights on to pretend it was filled with warmth and people. Eddie couldn’t imagine what their electricity bill was like. Uncle Wayne didn’t even let him keep his amp on for more than a few hours, though that was probably more about the noise and less about the power usage… 
Steve led Eddie around the back of the house where his private entrance was. There were two large glass sliding doors. That wasn’t something he’d always had. Not until he’d graduated had he moved into the basement. He wished his dad would’ve made him move down there sooner. It would’ve been much easier to sneak dates in when he was in high school.  
His room was clean—pretty cliché for a basement-converted room. He had a couch and a whole entertainment system: TV, VCR and stereo. He had a built-in desk with shelves that housed his trophies and various ribbons he’d collected from sports and swimming over the years. 
One of Eddie’s burning internal questions was answered as soon as they entered Steve’s lair: where he was going to sleep. “You can sleep on the couch,” Steve said. “It’s pretty comfortable. I got some extra pillows and blankets in my closet.” 
Eddie nodded. It looked comfortable, even though he was sure his thighs would stick to that leather in the middle of the night like gum on a school bus seat on a hot day. The couch was set up in front of a nice TV and a large cabinet with glass doors that held the latest Sony system on the market. No Nintendo, though. Eddie suspected Steve was probably too cool for that sort of thing. 
Steve went over to his closet. It was really organized. It had all his past uniforms, his letterman jacket, and his Hawkins High gear that he had collected throughout his four years. He grabbed a blanket and pillow while Eddie eyed the room. He knew he’d have something to say about the study hard poster.     Eddie skimmed his palms along the smooth, wood-panelled walls of Steve’s bedroom. He was already feeling more like himself again. “So, this is where the great King Steve lays his head every night,” Eddie said grandly, spreading his arms as he looked around. He was polite enough not to touch anything immediately, though his fingers were already itching to snoop. “I was expecting a big red canopy, if I’m honest. Maybe some golden tassels.” 
“Not sure what kind of fantasies you’ve had involving red canopies and gold tassels… but my room isn’t that.” Steve had a regular wooden bed frame with a full mattress and a plaid bedspread. It was nothing fancy, but that really must be what Eddie thought for him to be so descriptive.    Steve’s room was almost cute in its typical teenage boyishness. There was nothing really out of the ordinary. It was tidy. There weren’t even any weird smells. Very wholesome. 
Eddie noticed a little shrine with all of Steve’s sports achievements, a picture of a red sports car, a bowling pin lamp, and a few posters of half-nude women on the walls. He stopped by one in particular and rocked back on his heels, eyeing Steve’s back as he searched through his closet. “Yup, that’s definitely how I get all straight D’s. Studying hard.” 
Steve snickered at Eddie’s joke. He turned around swiftly and caught Eddie’s gaze. He gave him a dirty grin. “That explains why you haven’t graduated and why I didn’t get into college.” 
Steve was pretty horny most of the time. He got distracted easily and spent more time chasing tail than he did on his homework. He got lots of D’s. It looked like they had that in common. 
No straight man should look at another man wearing that sort of smile. It was unholy. Harrington probably wouldn’t have smiled like that if he knew about Eddie. That was the sort of thing straight jock dudes did, though. A smirk here, an elbow in the side there—shared camaraderie over the chicks they wanted to bang. 
Eddie supposed it made sense why Steve was still living in his parents’ basement and working at Family Video if he’d been rejected from college.Eddie followed him into the bathroom without commenting on it, though he wondered how many schools Steve had attempted to get into. How many rejection letters had he received before he gave up?
Maybe Eddie would be doing the same thing once they killed Vecna, cleared him of murder, and he graduated high school. Ha. 
Steve took the linens over to the couch, and Eddie stepped backwards hastily when Steve passed him and set them on the cushions. “Let me show you the bathroom.” 
Luckily, Steve had his own bathroom, and Eddie wouldn’t have to go upstairs if he had to use it. It was kind of small and had no tub, but it had a spacious shower where he stored his various hair products. 
“I think there’s an extra toothbrush,” Steve said as he opened one of the vanity drawers. He dug around a bit and found it, then set it on the counter. “Was kind of saving it, you know, in case a date forgot hers, but that hasn’t happened in a while. You can have it.” 
He hadn’t found anyone worth bringing back to his place. His car, though… that was different. 
Eddie looked at the toothbrush. It was still in its packaging, purple and turquoise, with a small head of bristles. How long was a while? This toothbrush had probably only been here for a few weeks, max. 
“Um, thanks,” Eddie said, feeling a slight flare of irritation in his gut that he didn’t fully understand, a tick forming between his brows as his brain supplied him with a visual of some perky cheerleader type brushing her teeth in there. “Not really my color, though. More of a pink girl myself.”
Some things took Steve a few seconds to process. He let out a delayed chuckle after Eddie’s joke. In his few interactions with Eddie, he could see just how silly he was. 
He meant a lot to Dustin, too… While he’d still insist he wasn’t jealous, that Dustin was the catalyst, he was right a lot. Steve could see Eddie’s innocence. He was starting to warm up and understand Eddie’s appeal.  
There was sweetness in his eyes that Steve couldn’t deny when looking into them. There was a rawness to him, too. When he spoke about Chrissy, there was terror in his voice and a horrified expression on his face. Eddie had knocked down walls Steve hadn’t known he had up. 
He was just being nice, right? Because he wasn’t the bully that he used to be. He had come a long way since then. He was a nice guy.  
“You can borrow some of my clothes. We’ll wash yours.” They looked a little grimy. “Probably hasn’t been too comfortable sleeping in your jacket.” 
With it being early March in Indiana, it was practically still winter there. That was another reason Steve felt better about Eddie not being in the boathouse anymore. He didn’t have to sleep in uncomfortable leather and a jean vest, as badass as it looked. He’d never tell Eddie he thought that, though. Steve envied Eddie’s shiny and tough style over his dull, preppy one. 
Eddie guessed he probably reeked. He hadn’t done a pit check but had been wearing the same outfit for a long time. Being scared shitless probably hadn’t helped his aroma. He’d attempted to wash his underwear in the lake, but that had gone as well as expected. 
Steve brushed past Eddie just to get out of the small space, and Eddie stepped backwards again like a startled fawn, back hitting the door. The soft material of Steve’s shirt still brushed against the roughness of his jean jacket, the warmth of his body heat palpable. Steve smelled like coconuts on a goddamn tropical island again. 
For not showering in a couple of days, Eddie didn’t smell bad, Steve thought.  “That’s it for the tour. You think you’ll be alright? I shouldn’t be gone too long. I’ll be back before Mom finishes dinner. I can bring you something to eat after I eat with her,” he promised. 
He knew Eddie had been hungry this morning, so he would probably like a home-cooked meal. 
“I’ll be fine, man,” Eddie replied, feeling skittish over all the catering Steve was doing to make sure he was comfortable. Hell, even offering him his mom’s cooking.     Eddie went and sat down on the leather couch, stretching his arms along the back and spreading his legs to show just how okay he’d be. His knee jiggling up and down was his only tell. “Appreciate you letting me crash. You know, putting your ass on the line. Harboring a fugitive and all.” There was a question in Eddie’s eyes as he observed Steve. Why are you doing this?    Was it really possible that Harrington was just… a decent guy? Hmm. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve reiterated because it sounded like Eddie needed reassurance. There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that he was doing the right thing. Getting thanked was unnecessary. 
Steve didn’t see him as a monster or guilty of a crime. He was a friend of a friend and deserved a fighting chance against something that had reared its ugly head again and nearly destroyed Hawkins. Anything Steve could do to help, he would do for his friends.  
He saw how badly Eddie’s knee was jiggling, so Steve reached down and forced it to stop. Eddie didn’t have to be nervous anymore. 
Eddie stilled. The heat from Steve’s hand was still radiating through his knee, making it buzz and tingle in the aftermath. Eddie looked down because that was unexpected, and so was the fluttering in his stomach like he’d just eaten a butterfly. He didn’t feel anxious, though.
Steve gave him a reassuring squeeze. “We got this,” he said, letting go and meeting Eddie’s eyes as he straightened back up. 
Eddie swallowed. Steve sounded so confident in Eddie’s innocence and their ability to beat the monster. It was actually… comforting.
Steve walked over to the sliding glass doors and started to let himself out. “Be back soon,” he promised.  
Once outside, he flashed Eddie a small smile through the window. 
Steve's smile was like a blanket settling around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie could only nod back at him. He wasn’t sure what his face did—if he smiled back at Steve or just looked dumbstruck. 
Steve headed to the car, and Eddie sunk into the couch more and curved his shoulders, blowing a breath.  “What was that?” he asked himself, bewildered. He looked down at his fluttering stomach in suspicion. "Why are you acting like that?" 
Had that Yoo-hoo been expired? Was he sick? 
Shaking it off and feeling oodles calmer, Eddie stood up again. The urge to snoop was strong again, but his feelings over invading Steve’s privacy had changed somehow in the last few minutes. It wasn’t right. Eddie would only do surface -level snooping. 
But first, a little freshening up. * Eddie closed the bathroom door and locked it, just in case Mrs. Harrington came home while he was in there and decided to do something wildly inappropriate, like walk in while her son was in the shower. Eddie didn’t know the Harrington family. Maybe they were weird like that. 
After fucking around a bit with the unfamiliar plumbing, he managed to turn the shower on and adjusted the water until it was screaming hot. Steve’s hot water actually worked, unlike theirs. Nice. 
Eddie stripped off his clothes. His shirt stuck to his skin as he pulled it off. He left his pile of stinkies beside the laundry basket instead of in it, unsure if Harrington would appreciate him mixing them in with his own clothes. 
The hot shower felt glorious . Eddie groaned, tilting his head back and gargling some fresh water. He spit it out in an arc like a fountain just because he could. His hair flattened to his head, all dirt and crustiness washing out down the drain. 
Eddie picked up one of the bottles on the shelf and gave it a look. “Fabergé Organics Wheat Germ Oil and Honey,” he read out loud, eyebrow quirking in amusement. “Is this his secret?” 
He popped the cap and gave it a sniff. It was pleasant and mild, but not the coconut he’d smelled earlier. 
Eddie didn’t normally use conditioner—he used a two-in-one that worked as shampoo and body wash—and quite frankly, he didn’t understand its purpose, but he decided to use Steve’s. Eddie’s hair was matted worse than a junkyard dog’s, and Steve wasn’t called “The Hair” for nothing. He knew a thing or two. 
When he was all cleaned up, and his hair was feeling frighteningly silky, Eddie turned off the shower. He stepped out, drying his feet on the mat and wrapping the towel from the hook around his waist. He unlocked the door, opened it a crack, and listened for any activity. When he heard nothing, he emerged. 
Steve had said he could borrow some clothes, so Eddie went to his dresser and pulled open the drawers. He rifled through a bunch of overly starchy collared shirts and colored striped shirts before he found a black Ghostbusters one that looked threadbare and comfortable. It said I’VE BEEN SLIMED in green, goopy lettering underneath the No-Ghost logo. Eddie cackled in amusement and pulled it on with a pair of cotton, plaid pajama bottoms. 
He didn’t poke through Steve’s boxer drawer because he was a gentleman and not creepy. Going commando was more comfortable, anyway. 
He did have a poke around in Steve’s closet. His brain stalled when he saw the old green and white letterman jacket. Eddie traced the fabric H on the front, and before his brain fully caught up with what he was doing, he took it off the hanger and slid it on. 
Steve had a mirror above his dresser, so Eddie caught his reflection. He did a slow three-sixty, and his heart fucking pitter-pattered. He laughed at himself. He was so painfully pathetic sometimes “Get a grip, man. Jesus Christ.” 
When he was younger and much more of a boy-crazy idiot than he was today, in the most private chamber of his mind, he’d imagined what it would be like to stroll down the hallways at school on the arm of a jock. 
He’d imagined how it would feel to be popular and coveted, to wear a letterman jacket that was a bit too big for him (because muscles, unfortunately, were something Eddie had never acquired, jamming on his guitar and roleplaying in his friends’ basements). 
He’d wondered how it would feel to receive a rose, like all the cheerleaders did, on Valentine’s Day when Cupid came around to each class. One particularly drunken evening, he’d even dreamt he was a cheerleader cheering on his baller boyfriend at a game, right next to Chrissy Cunningham herself. 
The fact that he’d fantasized about any of that and liked it infuriated him. He hated jocks, and they hated him. 
Luckily, those fantasies faded after a year of being bullied by said jocks. Or so he thought. One ex-jock was turning out to be nicer than any of the ones he’d had the displeasure of associating with. 
Eddie touched the H again, looking down at it. He shrugged the jacket off and put it back on one of the empty hangers, shutting the closet door. He couldn’t remember if that was the same hanger he’d taken it from. Still, it wasn’t likely Steve would notice such a small detail unless he kept a meticulous closet inventory or something. 
Eddie went to the stereo and started flipping through Steve’s cassette collection to pass the time. As expected, most of it wasn’t real music, but… 
“Oh,” Eddie said, delighted. Madonna. “Do you like The Queen of Pop, or do you just use this to woo the chickadees?” Either way, it made him grin. 
Eddie almost put Madonna in, but Billy Idol was already in the deck when he popped it open, so he closed it and pressed play. Eyes Without A Faceblasted through the speakers. Eddie flailed and turned the dial down so it played on volume three instead of nineteen. It was in the middle of the song, one of the sadder ones on the album. 
“Hm,” said Eddie curiously. 
The shower had helped loosen his tense muscles, but to fully relax, he always needed a little help from his friend. 
Eddie drummed his fingers on the top of the stereo. “If I was a well-mannered rich boy, where would I hide Mary Jane?” 
Eddie checked Steve’s desk first, flipping through his stacks of books. He didn’t find any hollow ones. 
Next, he searched Steve’s VHS cabinet. He had a small collection. Eddie guessed Steve had watched enough movies at Family Video that he didn’t need too many at home. He had a copy of Fast Times at Ridgemont High, which looked particularly abused, its case worn out. But no weed. 
Damn it. It was probably in his car somewhere, if he had any. 
Eddie checked a few other potential hiding places but froze when he heard a car pulling up in the driveway. He heard a door slam and then another—the floor creaking. A female voice called out, muffled by the distance. 
“Stevie?”  
 Silence. 
Eddie turned the stereo down one more notch and, not knowing what else to do, went to sit on Steve’s bed, hands clasped on his knees. He didn’t know if he should hide, but if Steve’s mom came down, he could always say that Steve was on his way home and Eddie was… a friend of his? Sleeping over? 
Hopefully, the police hadn’t released his name and picture yet, or Mrs. Harrington didn’t pay attention to the news. Fuck, he needed to watch the news tonight. 
Eddie waited a few minutes, biting his thumbnail, but Mrs. Harrington didn’t come to the basement. Eddie heard what could have been pots and pans clanging from the far side of the house, so it sounded like she was making dinner. 
Travelling back to the couch to lie down suddenly seemed exhausting as fuck. He’d go in a minute. 
Releasing a sigh, Eddie fell backwards. His head hit the pillow, damp curls fanning out around it. There were too many thoughts in his head again and more threatening to come up, so he tried to focus on his other senses. He smelled cooking meat in the air and traces of coconut from Steve’s pillow. 
Steve’s bed had the Goldilocks of mattresses. Not too hard, not too soft. Eddie released another sigh, his eyes and his body growing heavy. 
“Fuck me, I’m tired…” 
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Headcanons about Nancy and Robin talking about Barb?
I actually have a very very specific scenario in mind set in my comphet robin/monster hunter AU, in which Nancy is responsible to look out for Robin, who's under Vecna's curse - but that doesn't mean she needs to be with her 24/7 (which is a relief to both of them, because they don't really like each other at this point). BUT, for some reason, one night Robin decides to make it her goal to annoy Nancy as much as possible, or at least that's how Nancy feels like, because she keeps following her and tagging along everywhere she goes, just talking her ear off even though Nancy has plans that night, plans that don't involve Robin, and would much prefer it if Robin just went home.
Anyway, as Nancy walks and Robin follows her, they find themselves at the door of a hourse Robin doesn't recognize, and Nancy tells her to leave one more time before knocking.
But then the door opens, and it's Mrs. Holland there. Nancy was to have dinner with them that night. She's been having dinner with them every saturday night for the past two years, ever since Barb's body was found.
And Nancy expects Robin to finally leave her alone, now that she's joining the Hollands - but then Mrs. Holland inhales and says:
"Robin? Dear, is that you?"
Nancy freezes, mind racing, wondering from where could Mrs. Holland possibly know Robin from.
"Um. Hi, Marsha," Robin mumbles.
"Oh, Robin! It's been so long. Please, come in! It's always nice to see Barb's friends."
So Robin ends up awkwardly joining them, much to Nancy's confusion. She and Barb hadn't really talked ever since they were... twelve? But here she was - not in the house in which she'd spent a great deal of her childhood, drawing and listening to music and infodumping with Barb for hours on end - no, this was a new, smaller house, but with far more pictures of Barb than the old one. Barb's parents are so happy to see her, or the closest thing to happy one can be when you lose a daughter. They reminisce about Barb's childhood with her - how they used to make fun of boys and how they were both so smart and loved to read together, how they held hands everywhere they went and how they played all sorts of games in the playground and the old house's backyard. It's uncomfortable for Robin at first, but then she begins to feel really sad, becuse she remembers thinking Barb had just ran away, but she was dead. Dead, dead, dead. Gone forever. She would never see her childhood best friend again. She tears up a little. She tells them that, even though she hasn't spoken to Barb in years, she treasures every memory she had with her, and even knowing how everything ended, could she travel to the pas she would be her friend again, because every second of their friendship was worth it.
Here's a small scene I have in my WIPS:
“Yeah, I mean, Barb and I were weird as hell.” Nancy put her glass down  “What Robin means to say is that… she and Barb had a really unique friendship.” “No, that's not what I mean.” Robin shook her head. “Barb and I were freaks. We were weird. Like… Nance, why are you kicking me? Stop that. Anyway, I once found a weird slug in the grass and Barb helped me figure out what the heck it was, and we kept it in a jar for like a week. We took it to school every day in secret and we showed it to everyone because we thought having a slug pet named Neil Armstrong would make us really cool. And when dumbass kids made fun of us - Barb wouldn't even care. Like, I kept hiding Neil Armstrong in my hoodie because I didn't want to be known as the Slug Girl but Barb… she just shrugged. Like I distinctly remember her shugging when they called her Slug Girl. It was a full body shrug, like the intensity with which she did not care had overcome her entire being. She was way beyond all of us. No one even held a candle to her. She was authentic. Not fake authentic, like, being pretentious just for the sake of being pretentious and stuff. She was herself, utterly and wholly and I - I don't think I ever met anyone else like that.”
Nancy is... tense when they leave. Robin says goodbye to Barb's parents with a big long hug, and then Nancy walks back to where she left her car, before Robin intercepted her. They climb inside.
"They sold their house," she said. "To pay for a... private investigator who could tell them who killed Barb." Robin felt something in her gut drop, like a piece of wet cement falling from the walls of her stomach. "I didn't know that." Nancy adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. "They hired someone who would ruin their life, with the amount they charged. All to tell them what I already know." Who killed Barb, by breaking her arms, her legs, her jaw, sucking in her eyes. Robin remembered the ticking clock and shuddered. "I'm assuming you have a very good reason not to tell them." "It would put them in danger." Nancy said. She pressed her lips together. Looked down, then back up again. "So instead, I let them ruin their lives all over again." Robin observed her - the bags under her eyes, the mess that was her hair, the broken skin around her nails from picking and biting. "Nance," she said. "You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Nancy stares ahead, unmoved. The street was dark and silent. "I'll be droping you at your house, now," she said. "Call me if you have any headaches, or if you have a nosebleed or just... see something." Robin nodded. "Alright."
Next time they talk about Barb it's... well, it's complicated. I don't have anything written for it, but I know it'll be a lot, because they talk about a lot of things - there's Nancy's survivor's guilt, there's Robin feeling like a burden, and most importantly, Nancy confessing she was in love with Barb, and that thinks she died because she was so scared of it that she rushed to sleep with a boy, when she should've been looking out for her. So forgive her if she's not going to run away from her feelings for Barb, now. Last time she did, it got her killed. If maybe she hadn't been so cowardly, Barb may have lived, and she misses her so much today, she has so much love inside of her with nowhere to go, that she can't keep pretending she didn't love her anymore.
It shakes Robin to her core - this is comphet!Robin after all, she's in a whole different wavelength and she's frozen from hearing Nancy talk - but it does put some things into perspective.
Next time they talk about Barb, it's less dramatic. They couldn't sleep, so they're having some tea at midnight, and it's Robin who starts - tells her about she and Barb's childhood mischief. Or rather, her own mischief, with Barb behind her keeping her out of trouble. Nancy's lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Sounds just like Barb," she says. "Between her and me, she was always the sensible one."
They exchange anecdotes - Robin tells Nancy about Barb's childhood, and Nancy tells her about her teenage years (Robin can't help but notice, in Nancy's words and tone, just how deeply her love runs. How she mentions the little things. How she found each small gesture so endearing and precious). Together, it's like they're putting together a tapestry of who Barb was, the whole of her, and at the same time, they get closer to her. Despite her absence, they get to know Barb better. Nancy cries, because how could she not? But they're not entirely sad tears. She's happy, too, because she hasn't felt this close to Barb in years.
They visit her grave together one time. Nancy brings her flowers, and she sits on the ground and talks to her. She tells her about her day and how the world of the living is doing, and about her old friend, Robin, whom she supposes is now their friend. Robin isn't as sure of what to say, so she just says they both miss her, and that she'll take care of Nancy now, the same way Nancy takes care of her.
She holds Nancy's hand, in hopes it'll be comforting. Nancy squeezes back.
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variousqueerthings · 5 months
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I've just been spending the last few hours thinking about this ending that I haven't even thought about the whole rest of the episode, I've gotta. I've gotta just
oh boy I've gotta just fuckn
nothing about donna or fourteen or fifteen here just all the rest
1- at first I was thinking that the toymaker was defeated in kind of a simple way, but then on the other hand it's more a setup for some of the things we know is coming in ncuti gatwa's era, with classic!who gods. so the toymaker, yes, gives the opportunity to wrap up this past era and for DT to do those big sad wet eyes of his, but is far more for the next story's benefit in the long run from the sounds of things. also the behind-the-scenes for the game of catch is hilarious. NPH was so good, would be cool to see the toymaker make a reprise just with gatwa
2- ohhhhhhhhhh the Puppetry in this episode! PUPPETS! I am soooo into puppets, I could have spent a million episodes with these creepy fucking puppets, I hope we get more puppets
3- AND speaking of the toymaker, the master in the toymaker's tooth???? I haven't seen dhawan yet, so idk how that all ends, but I did not expect master setup, and I am very happy we did because the master is my favourite (derogatory, what a bitch)
4- RTD talking about the puppet that was broadcast on TV, I knew about that puppet (from getting a quiz answer wrong relatively recently lol), but giving that little historical Moment, now we all know a bit more, I just think it's neat
5- I am still not a fan of UNIT. every time we meet them they're a military force with weaponry that has the potential to do so much harm and... then they lose control of that weaponry. and also do weapons-related stuff that often makes the situation worse. I feel similarly of classic!UNIT who do manage to help out more on the whole, but still are fundamentally military and several times have people who do Bad Shit. dunno, still trying to figure out their place in this narrative other than convenient guns when we need guns. I want them to be more complicated if they come back for the next era, I'd be interested if shirley-ann bingham became a liz shaw type and really questions the limitations and biases that exist within UNIT
6- wait no, going back to point the first I'm soooo excited for the things they've hinted at, stories about gods are my whole damn jam, it's going to be amazing!
7- them playing the prime minister saying he doesn't care about anybody and donna goes "same as always" (or however she says it), listen, it's low-hanging fruit and I am eating it, anything dragging the british government and right wing sentiment is good and necessary for my soul personally
8- one really big Thing is no martha. will never get that closure RIP. argh though freema agyeman and ncuti gatwa could do great things together I think, cmon. one day
I'm sure more things will come up as I think about it, but off the top of my head
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tarttheart · 5 months
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PRECIOUS LOVE: CHAPTER 7 -JAMIE TARTT x YOU
summary: your blind date is a disaster.
word count: 565 words
warnings: language
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chapter 7: I say a prayer
You knew from the moment you had gotten in the car that this night was going to be a disaster. You could hear your heart racing in your ears. You prayed and prayed that this “prick with a heart” was not whom you thought it might be. Alas, your prayers went unanswered because you were now sitting opposite one Jamie Tartt.
“Do you two know each other?” Michael asked curiously after the two had very awkwardly exchanged greetings.
You had paled substantially and were practically catatonic when Jamie had first walked through the door, now settling for being a blubbering mess. Whatever got you through tonight, you thought to yourself. You just needed to survive.
“Erm, yeh, yeh. You could say that.”
“Friend of a friend,” You said, laughing nervously before blabbering on, “one of my dearest childhood friends is Kevin De Bryune. He spent his summers growing up at his grandparents’ who were our neighbours. I saw him heaps. Heaps!”
Michael narrowed his eyes and laughed, “I’ve never seen this side of you. So nervous! How cute! Must be because Jamie’s a premier league footballer. You’re always so cool and calm at work.”
Welp, that made two because you had never been so distressed that you could only act like a complete and utter fool.
Two hours later, the four of you stood outside the restaurant. Thankfully, the night was finally coming to an end. You could go home and pretend it was all a nightmare.
“Well, Colin and I are going to head home. Why don’t you two go on for dessert? Jamie, will you be a dear and make sure she gets home safe?”
Your face froze as you silently begged for Michael and Colin to take you home but they were already halfway down the street when you finally came back to your present situation.
“I know you’re busy. Busy, busy man. I’ll just… I’ll just get a taxi. D-don’t worry about me,” you managed to get out before turning to your phone and trying not to make eye contact.
“Come on, I’ll give you a ride. We don’t have to do nothing. Just… Can’t be letting you take a taxi, be damaging my brand,” Jamie said, registering the level of discomfort and anxiety on your face.
You chewed on your bottom lip before silently following after Jamie to his car.
You mentally swore at Michael and Colin yet again. Did they have to pick a restaurant so far away? It made for such a long and awkward car ride home.
“Look, I know I said you didn’t have to fucking to do nothing but I’m sorry,” Jamie started, “it’s been a fucking long time since we happened and I honest to god don’t fucking remember if I did anything wrong but I probably did because I’m a fucking prick. Coach and Keeley always talk about accountability and that. It’s probably fucking late for it but, still. Sorry.”
You had your eyes trained on your hands, trying to focus on them and failing miserably.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, barely recognizing your strained voice.
“What?” Jamie asked, slightly confused, “I know when I’ve messed up. You don’t have to be pretending, you won’t even look at me fucking face.”
You sighed, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jamie. It’s all me.”
You paused before continuing, “how about that drink then?”
-
< chapter 6 | master list | chapter 8 >
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kohakhearts · 4 months
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7 for palletshipping tho?-
7: we always used to have sleepovers as children, why would it be weird now? wc: 1 731 read on ao3 here
Ash is at his wit’s end.
It has been a long, long time since he’s been truly and properly alone. Even then, he knows so many people in so many corners of the world, it is hardly a surprise when he bumps into a familiar and friendly face on his journeys. They will typically spend a few days to weeks together, and then, eventually—as they always do—part ways again with a spirited promise to meet again soon.
This is how it always is. Ash wouldn’t have it any other way.
Except for one Gary Oak, that is.
Oh, Ash sees him everywhere. They run into each other, quite literally, in Castelia City trying to find a place in line for a Casteliacone. They cross paths a dozen times or more at the docks in Vermilion City, boarding separate ships to faraway regions. They even find themselves two seats apart on an airplane bound from Kalos to Kanto.
But after a few hours of conversation, Gary always steps back again. Says, somehow bracingly, “It was good to see ya, Ash,” “I’ll see ya around,” “Catch ya later”—each new iteration means the same thing: I’m not sticking around this time, either.
Since they were kids on the road for the first time, this is how it has been. One degree of separation, and then a dozen more with each one of Gary’s receding footsteps. Ash cannot trace or follow them, has never known how to catch up to someone whose movements always face away from him. He spent so long trying, he became someone whose footsteps others believe can be followed, too. Sometimes, he even needs to remind himself that the view from up ahead cannot be the reason he refuses to turn around when a friend calls out his name.
It is almost ironic, then, that this should be their position now: caught out in the lush green of northern Hoenn, Ash calling out to the shadowed figure ahead of him, “Gary! Hey, wait up!”
Gary pauses, though he does not so much as turn his head until Ash has jogged up beside him. He offers Gary his best winning smile and says, “Wasn’t expecting to find you out here! What’re you up to?”
“Looking for a Pokémon.” Gary’s eyes turn away from him again, sweeping over the sunlight-dappled shrubbery. “Actually, maybe you could help me out.”
“Sure! What are we looking for?”
“Kecleon.”
Ash blinks. “Did you wanna catch one?”
He shakes his head. “It’s injured. I saw it earlier, but it disappeared before I could get close enough to check it. I doubt it’s gone far. It didn’t look like it was in very good shape.”
Ash’s decision was already made when he saw Gary standing out here alone in the first place, but that is enough to solidify his convictions. With a sharp nod, he says, “I’ll check this way, then. We can meet back here.”
Gary’s gaze still doesn’t reach his, even as he nods his agreement. Ash doesn’t waste any time to do more than notice it; they will return to each other, without a doubt. They always do, at least long enough so that Gary can say good-bye.
The search, however, is long and fruitless. The leaves shudder with the late summer breeze, calling his and Pikachu’s attention, but never once do they encounter anything larger than a skittish Oddish or wide-eyed Zigzagoon peering out from behind tree trunks and bushes. As green begins to glow orange with the final strokes of daytime, Ash trudges back to the place he met up with Gary to wait for Staraptor to report back to him with its findings.
It arrives only a few minutes later, head bowed as it delivers to him one disappointed squawk: nothing.
Ash smiles at his Pokémon and pulls out its ball to recall it. “It’s okay. You did your best. Thanks for the help.”
By now, the last coals of evening are beginning to cool into dark splotches all around him. The wind whispers through the trees; he wraps his arms around his torso, momentarily frozen by the lonely quality of its passage.
But then there is a rustling to his right. His head snaps around just as Gary appears from the late-day shadows. He’s carrying a bundle in his arms, brow pinched. Without even looking up from it, he steps past Ash to get to the clearing behind them and says, “Help me start a fire, would ya?”
Ash doesn’t need to be told twice when there is an injured Pokémon in their midst. He pulls out two Poké Balls and directs Sceptile and Pignite to begin gathering kindling for them. Pikachu hops off his shoulder and scurries away to help them.
In no time at all, the fire is blazing and a small pile of juicy oran and sitrus berries have been gathered nearby it. Ash watches from one side of their makeshift fire pit as Gary mutters reassurances to the tired, feverish Kecleon, then puts his back to the scene and begins pitching his tent. It is twenty parts habit and eighty parts hope that has him throwing out the extra sleeping bag he’s taken to carrying since he realized how often he is pulling his friends away from their day-to-day lives for adventures without them having any time to prepare for the fact.
It is only when he crosses to the other side of their site that he sees Gary is watching him. It is not merely the nighttime shadows that contribute to the darkness of his expression.
“I should take Kecleon to the Pokémon Centre,” he says.
Ash peers down at the now-sleeping Pokémon with a frown. “Is it really that sick? It’s gonna take at least an hour to get there, and that’s if we don’t get lost or sidetracked on the way. ‘Sides, the Pokémon Centre’s gonna be closed soon. We shouldn’t wake Nurse Joy if it’s not an emergency.”
The wind slices between them, much cooler now that the sun has gone away.
And then Gary says, voice tight, “Who said anything about ‘we’?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ash mutters. “‘Course I’d come with ya.”
A sigh. He watches as some of the tension drifts out from Gary’s body.
“Stay here,” Ash tells him. “I set up the tent for us both. You need to get some sleep too, y’know. You were searching for it all day!”
But just when he thinks Gary is going to acquiesce, he turns around and grabs his bag from the ground. Still not looking at Ash, he says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The night seems, all at once to still. Ash stands there for a long moment, heart beating loud and fast, just waiting for Gary to quantify that statement. To give him some kind of reason for his departure, if there ever even was one, but—
He doesn’t.
And finally, the desperate irritation beneath his breast rises and swells. He takes a step forward, demanding, “Why not? You’re always doing this! Can’t you just trust me on this?”
He sees when the tension returns. A familiar weight on Gary’s shoulders.
“It’s not about trust. This is just how it is.”
Gary takes a step away from him.
“But why’s it gotta be how it is? C’mon, Gary, we used to have sleepovers all the time as kids! What’s so different about it now?”
His heart leaps up into his throat when Gary whirls around. The shadows are cast away by the light from the fire, revealing wide, astounded—angry?—eyes.
“What part of this is anything like that?”
Ash swallows. “Well, uh—how is it anything not like that? We share the tent and if you’re really too worried about Kecleon to sleep, then I’ll be here to keep you company. Or, if not, then we can watch each other’s backs if anything happens. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Gary opens his mouth, then closes it again. He blinks once, hard, then laughs. It is not a joyous sound in the slightest; Ash is reminded of sneering taunts, a rivalry he never knew how to play out.
He says, feeling very small, “I just wish you’d stop walking away.”
A beat passes. Gary lifts one hand up to his nose, sighing deeply. When he drops again, the heat in his gaze has simmered down into something less familiar, almost sad.
“It’s different, Ash. We…we’re different. It’s been a long time. Let it go, all right?”
“No. Why should I? You aren’t giving me a reason to!”
Behind him, the fire spits and crackles. Pikachu pads around it in order to sit down by his feet, looking up at Gary quizzically.
“The reason is we aren’t kids anymore.” Gary hoists his bag up higher on his shoulder, determinedly not looking at either of them. “You’re never gonna get it, so why bother wasting time explaining? It was good to see ya, Ash, but—”
Before he can finish the thought, Ash surges forward and grabs hold of his wrist. When Gary’s wide eyes fall down to meet his glare, all he can think to say is, “Stop leaving me behind, you jerk!”
He feels Gary’s hand twitch, but he dares not release his hold now. Gary doesn’t force him to, either.
He just asks, “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”
And all at once, the anger floods out of him. His grip relaxes, just slightly. He lowers his gaze, and he nods.
The wind picks up again, but Ash doesn’t feel its bite as Gary steps in closer to him again. Gary’s fingers brush against his wrist, then force their way up to his hand, effectively loosening Ash’s hold on him. But just when Ash expects the warmth to disappear, those fingers wrap between his, holding tight.
“Okay,” Gary says, very quietly. He shrugs his shoulder, so that his bag falls down his free arm and back to the ground. His hand squeezes Ash’s. “I’ll stay.”
Ash breathes out, deflating against him. His head falls to rest against Gary’s shoulder. Everything else seems in an instant to disappear.
“I missed you,” he admits at last.
Gary stills. But he does not pull away. And finally, finally, he lifts his free hand up to Ash’s cheek. It is warm, and familiar.
He says, “I missed you too, Ashy.”
bed-sharing prompts!
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