#ats 07

[on-this-day-btvs]

November 7, 2000

Guise Will Be Guise aired for ATS season 2, episode 6. This was the first appearance of Virginia Bryce, whose father hired Angel as a bodyguard for her. Virginia is played by Brigid Brannagh and is in four episodes total, all in season 2.

#ats #ep: 2x06 guise will be guise #month: november #virginia bryce #date: 07 #year: 2000 #brigid brannagh

[laddertek]

@countthelions (tumblr ate this when I tried to save my answer as a draft, so we improvise 🙃)

This one? :D

This whole stream was delightful. What a way to return 🤗

Tango was so happy energetic.

And from Tango calling Etho's storage system cute and Etho in gamechat going "CUTE?!" (00:41:07). To the razzing (and laughing) over shops (00:49:00 and 01:03:49). Etho taking Tango's head twice, and it all being so playful (00:58:11). Etho using Tango's catchphrases 🥹🥹🥹 It gets me every time! "porkchop power" "flee with extra flee!" And the way he said it was the cutest, and Tango's giggle about it too (01:00:59). Etho offering to give the tour Tango wanted. More mail talk and laughing guilt and planning and razzing and teaching Etho to do the stamps. Tango complimenting the path (and that Etho showed it to him when he first came back when Etho came to say hi) (01:15:41). They still plan on doing their sand-collection-off (01:35:06).

And of course the whole TNTificating with Etho's new "boom boom tech" (01:39:43--02:15:17) was just…the most fun. They are having the most fun together...it's an absolute joy. (And it's also them collaborating on how to figure out a redstone thing together which is just so satisfying.) Just...TOO MANY (!!!) (so many) fun moments in that whole TNT section that I can't even start on highlighting them all 😭 I'd need another mammoth paragraph...

Honestly??? Still smiling. Great great great stream 🥹

Timestamps are for YouTube not Twitch because Tango was so fast on getting the VOD up lmao

#HOW are they as a duo this underrated in fan spaces I DO NOT KNOW 😂 #I'm sorry they're literally the best duo of all time and this stream proves it #and hey!! thanks for messaging :D always love seeing you in the notes #was gonna make this a bit of a masterpost of clips but tumblr only allows one video file upload per post lmao #though it's not like I could have clipped all of it anyway 😂 #might put some as separate posts. we'll see #tango tek #tangotek #etho #ethoslab #tangtho #hermitcraft #hermitcraft s10 #hermitcraft season 10 #putting the twitch timestamps here too...used them first and might be easier if want clips later #cute 00:45:46 | shops 00:53:36 & 01:08:26 | deaths 01:02:48 | flee 01:05:36 | path 01:20:18 | sand 01:39:43 | tnt 01:44:21--02:19:52

[m0llygunn]

friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)

MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.

cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!! wc: 8.3k+

0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00

Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.

“How are my girls doing today?”

Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend. 

Eddie thinks he’s a comedian. 

With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.

His latest stunt was when he greeted you for your usual Friday get together. He swung the door open quick enough to stun you and immediately dropped to his knees. With a firm hold on your hips, he leaned in close to your belly, “Hi, baby girl. Did you miss daddy?” he cooed with big eyes and an even bigger smirk.

With a hand on his forehead, pushing him away, unfortunately you laughed, and unfortunately it feels like all of his jokes are coming back to bite the both of you in the ass. It’s hardly been 24 hours since the offending, but objectively funny joke, and neither of you are laughing now.

“Maybe you just ate something bad?” he offers with sheer, dumb, hope. “Or maybe it’s the flu?” he says, snapping his fingers together like he struck the gold mine of an idea.

Eddie can be as hopeful as he wants, but as you lower yourself down to the couch from vomiting your insides out in the bathroom, the panic in his eyes is evident.

“Maybe,” you reply dully, dropping your head to rest against the back of the couch. 

“Do you want to lay down? I can bring you to my bed?” he asks with concern lacing his words. 

“I’m—” you start, but with acid suddenly rising in your throat again, your eyes go wide and you jump from the couch with a renewed energy, just barely making it to the bathroom.

────────────

To put it plainly, you vomited two more times after. When you finally felt like you were done throwing up, with an empty stomach and a sore body, Eddie helped you to his bed and you slept off your spell of nausea. When you woke up a few hours later feeling a touch better, both of you decided the best choice would be to buy a pregnancy test. 

“Just to be safe, right?” he had said, eyes burning into you as you laid sprawled across his bed, feeling no longer nauseous, but instead like an empty shell of a person. “We should buy one, right?” he asked again, eyes growing wider in your silence. 

It felt like even moving your sight line to look at him took too much energy, but you met his gaze, and he nodded his head like he had made his own silent conclusion. 

“We’ll go after, okay?” he said, continuing his one-sided conversation. Standing from the edge of the bed he wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before straightening out and rubbing his hand down from his mouth to his chin. He nods a second time, doing what you assume is him coming to another silent conclusion. “I’ll get you crackers?” he continued, eyebrows raised. 

With your eyes locked on him, you swallowed the dryness in your mouth. You hadn’t done anything notable, hadn’t even attempted to answer him, but his face softened, mouth turning into a regretful frown. 

“Sorry you’re sick,” he said, bending down to pat your head, letting his thumb trace gently across your temple. It was a tender movement and you absorbed the warmth of his contact, letting your eyes blink shut. “I’ll get you water too, okay? Water and crackers and we’ll see how you feel after that.”

Eddie’s a lot of things, but nurturing and soft, and with high levels of compassion is not exactly how you would describe him. He can be those things, but principally, he’s more of an asshole— but one that you love enough to keep around, obviously. But an asshole, nonetheless. The last time you had the flu he laughed at you and made fun of the way you threw up, albeit, it was when you both were in your teens, but regardless, he was a dickhead about it— and most recently, when you had gotten a cold, he ceaseless made fun of your constant sneezing and the blazing red tone of your sore nose from blowing it so much, calling you Rudolf and asking how ‘Big Red’ was doing at this time of the year. Asshole.

Dichotomously to the Eddie you’ve known all these years, he grazes the backside of his knuckles across your cheek, rubbing them back and forth gently. It's painfully obvious he doesn’t do this often from the way his hand jerks, finger nearly poking you in the eye, but you appreciate the notion. You know you must really look awful if he’s managed to compose this much compassion for you. 

────────────

They say that nothing makes people more productive than the last minute. As the pharmacy's closing time approached, it was only then when either of you felt so inclined to even mention going to get the test.

After Eddie got you your water and crackers, you started feeling much better, and feeling much better meant it was easy to pretend like nothing had happened. You both unhealthily and aggressively ignored your potential futures by acting like it was any regular Saturday evening. You talked about your upcoming work week, and watched the usually shitty reruns on TV. Eddie made some freezer-burnt chicken nuggets, you warmed up some soup, and it was boring and uneventful, but it was the most comforting that boring and uneventful could be. 

The sun began to set and it was like the ticking of Wayne's alarm clock on the coffee table beside you only got louder and louder as time went on. 

“S’almost eight,” Eddie had eventually mumbled. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the TV as you found this particular old rerun episode of Mama’s Family to be the most interesting thing in the world, which is odd considering you usually change the channel whenever it's on. 

With both of you sitting at the couch, feet kicked up, resting side by side on the coffee table, Eddie moves his foot far enough to just barely knock yours— an attempt to pull your attention away from the screen.

“The show’s almost done,” you say, turning your head towards him but keeping your eyes on the TV.

“The pharmacy closes at eight.”

“I feel fine,” you shrug.

Moving your feet from the tabletop, Eddie copies you, putting his feet down on the floor, but he goes a step further, sitting up from the couch. He stands, facing you, but you keep your eyes on the TV, ignoring him fivefold. He props his hand on his hip, arm bent at the elbow, one foot tap away from looking like someone's mother. You ignore him tenfold. 

“You want to stay here while I go?”

“Go where?”

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” he laughs. You can hear the amusement in his voice. His hand drops from his hip and you look at him to see the smirk written across his face.

“Go where?” you double down. Huffing a laugh from his nose, he turns, opting to get himself ready, and begrudgingly, you do too. With your feet dragging through every step, you get in the car, and Eddie drives the two of you to the pharmacy. 

────────────

Under the bright, white fluorescent lights of aisle number eight, you and Eddie stare your potential future down. An unnerving amount of tests sit on the shelf at eye level, some with cute little daisy packaging, others looking sterile and pharmaceutical. 

“Why are there so many options?” Eddie asks, picking one up and flipping it to read the back. You look at the price tags and your mouth nearly drops to the floor. 

“Why are they so expensive?” you ask, taking the box out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf.

“Hey,” he objects, reaching out for it. “That one says response in twenty minutes.” 

“That one is, like, twice as much as that one,” you argue, pointing to another test.

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the test from the shelf. “That one says a two hour response,” he continues, pointing at the exaggerated font on the front of the test in his hand, waving it in your face. “I’d rather be shitting my pants for twenty minutes than two hours.”

He’s acting normal, braggart and teasing, you can’t muster that same energy. Your stomach swirls and squeezes and does everything it shouldn’t do. Nerves or nausea, you’re not sure. A ceiling light flickers two aisles over and you can’t stand being here.

“Maybe…” you pause. Your hands start to turn clammy. “Maybe we shouldn’t get any,” you say, shifting in place. You turn to fully face Eddie, looking at him as he has a boxed test pulled close to his face, reading the side of it. “Maybe we should just go home.” 

Eddie turns to you, brows furrowed. “No— what? You just spent the whole day throwing up, we gotta get something,” he says, looking at you like you’re insane. The ceiling light flickers again and you definitely feel insane. 

It wasn’t the whole day, it was just the morning, you nearly object until you realize it doesn’t help your case. 

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you chew on the edge of your nail, distracting yourself from the tremble in your limbs. From left to right and back again, you flutter your sight over the different options. There’s too many. Too many and it’s overwhelming. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. The weight of his arm settles around your shoulder, pulling you so that your bicep meets the edge of his chest in a half hug. “Don’t be nervous,” he continues, in a low coo. You step inwards, turning the half hug into a full hug. Taking a deep breath, all you can muster is a short nod of your head. 

His arm moves from your shoulder, hand grazing down to your mid back. Focusing your attention on his touch, you take another deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent. Smoky, woodsy, and a contradicting sweetness from whatever shampoo that was probably the cheapest and on sale.

“We’ll be fine, remember? You probably just ate something bad.” he says. He rubs his hand up between your shoulder blades and back down. You want to believe him, you really do. 

“I’m scared,” you say quietly.

“Why?” he asks, voice just as small as yours. 

“It… it doesn’t feel like I ate something bad.” You swallow down the jagged edges of emotion that your voice gets stuck on. His hand, mid rub, pauses and you pull away enough to see him. His eyes glaze over with something you’re unsure of before he quickly blinks it back. 

“Well…” he swallows. “What does it feel like then?” he asks, brows turned upwards. He's nervous, you’re nervous, and the light flickers again, reminding you where you are. 

“Can we go home? Please.” Your nerves become far too jittery and it’s starting to turn into nausea again. Your stomach lurches and Eddie watches you for another moment, eyes searching yours until he nods, patting your back before pulling away.

“Yeah. I’ll just buy this one and we can go.” He takes your hand in his, twenty-minute-test in the other, and he guides you to the front of the store. 

────────────

“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”

“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again. 

“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test. 

Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.” 

He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.

Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood. 

“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way you think you were successful until his demeanour drops into something serious. 

“What did you mean earlier?” he asks “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”

“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.” 

Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his Casio watch. 

21:19:59 turned to 21:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath. 

With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch — or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your choking lungs, you're just about to ask, mouth already open when he speaks.

“It says negative.”

“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.

“Negative.” Eddie firmly answers.

There’s no way. You should feel a weight lift from you, but, evident avoidance aside, that feeling is still there, stronger if anything.

“I…” you start, interrupting the loud beat of silence. “I’m not saying I want to be pregnant… but I think it’s wrong, Eddie.”

“Wrong? How could it be wrong?” he says, turning around to look at you. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Aren’t they, like, only guaranteed to work like 95% of the time?”

“That’s still a lot of the time,” he says, copying your shrug.

“Yeah… but—” you shake your head, stopping yourself. This is what you wanted right? Why would you fight against the answer that you mostly hoped for? That you were already certain about in the car barely an hour ago. “Whatever. It’s probably right. I think… I think I’m just… tired.”

Eddie nods, agreeing with you. He turns enough to set the test down, abandoning cleanup for another time— gross, but when he asks you if you’re going to sleep over, you willingly ignore the unsanitary act of leaving a used pregnancy test to sit and simmer bacteria growth. 

“You gonna sleep here?”

“Can I?’

“Of course,” he laughs.

────────────

If it were a peaceful morning, you would have woken up to the warm, red tinted sun coming into Eddie’s room through the maroon coloured bed-sheet-turned-blinds. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have woken up to shared warmth, his arm just barely tossed over your hip, hand resting in the dip of your waist. 

If it were a peaceful morning you would have been able to bask in the meaning of having him beside you— what it meant beyond just shared warmth, what it meant beyond friendship. 

If it were a peaceful morning, oh, if it were a peaceful morning…

If it were a peaceful morning, you wouldn’t have woken up to rising bile in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. It's not a peaceful morning, it's a race against time. With your hand cupped to your mouth, ripping yourself from the shared tangled sheets, tripping your way to the bathroom over the crap on the floor, time almost wins. 

You made it by a stroke of luck with not a second to spare.

────────────

“It must be the flu,” you had croaked weakly. Eddie nodded, looking at you with tired eyes that had been startled awake by your fumbling and awful retching.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the flu.” It was not a whole hearted agreement, but there was no way any bad food would still be in your system. And with a negative pregnancy test, the flu is the only answer. Obviously.  

The next day, in the quietness of your apartment, you kept a preemptive bowl next to your bed, just in case.

Thank god you did because it was the worst it’s been yet, and with your temperamental luck, you would not have made it to the bathroom this time.

────────────

“Hello?” Eddie answered from the other end of the telephone line. 

Your untouched breakfast sits on the table as you stand in front of your wall-hanging phone, leaning against the counter to stop yourself from keeling over entirely. 

“It's me.” 

“Oh, hey, didn’t think I’d hear from you so early, what's up?” His near chipper attitude is grating and if you could strangle someone through the phone you might have muscled up the last of your strength and considered it. 

“I’m still sick.” If you sound as awful as you feel, and equally as annoyed, it's because you are every terrible emotion in the dictionary. You are the essence of a bad mood, a side effect of how sick you’ve been.

“Shit—” he cursed. “I have work in thirty but I can stop by after?”

“Yeah, you already told me you were working,” you snark, because obviously he has work. It’s Monday.

“Do you want me to stop by after?

“I'm just telling you that I’m still sick.”

The call lulls and you can hear a slight rustle from the other end.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re sick and I feel bad,” he says, voice turning up like he's asking you if that is an alright answer. It’s not, and you twirl the phone cord between your fingers, distracting yourself from scoffing and saying something you know you’ll regret. 

The call lulls for another moment and he clears his throat, coughing right into the receiver. 

“Uh— aside from being sick… everything else okay?” he asks tentatively, pausing too frequently that it annoys you, even more so than you already are.

“I’m fine, I just feel like garbage.”

“Nothing else bothering you? I have a minute, we can talk?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re— and don’t bite my head off— but you’re not on your period?”

“Why would you ask that?” You meet his stupidity with a harsh and rightfully deserved defensiveness. “Don’t you think I would tell you if I was? You know, all things considered.” 

His voice raises as he comes to his own defence. “Well, I just thought… 'cause you thought that maybe there was a chance that the test was wrong, but then we agreed it wasn’t and…”

“And?”

“And you’re in a bad mood.”

You hang up the phone and when it rings again, you let it. 

────────────

Eddie spent the whole day being eaten alive by his thoughts. You said you had a feeling, and Eddie knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t joke around about stuff like this. He would, he has, but you wouldn't.

Since the moment you told him that you weren’t on birth control, he had been thinking about it. Hypothetically, having a kid with you wouldn’t be the worst. He’d actually… like it… maybe? Would he say that to you? No, but it's not an awful thought.

Sure he made jokes out of it, but that was just his ill mannered way of accepting the fact that he kind of, maybe, potentially, would like having a kid with you… and being more than just friends. But he could never tell you that, so he made stupid, stupid jokes. 

But now that having a baby with you is less hypothetical, he’s fucking scared. Not because it’s with you, but because he might be having a fucking baby. That’s terrifying in and of itself. 

When you first started feeling sick, he let himself really believe for about an hour that maybe you had eaten something bad, but in his heart of hearts, he knew. There was no way. Four weeks and 3 days after he came inside you— not that he's keeping track of the days— and you’re suddenly experiencing ‘food poisoning’, even though you didn’t eat anything particularly abnormal or poison-like?

You’re pregnant. So fucking pregnant. There’s no way you’re not. 

“Hey, Bill. You have kids, right?” Eddie had asked as he sat down at the break table with one of his more favourable colleagues. 

Bill, more or less his mentor— or more eloquently put, the kind soul that's been helping him work his way up to being an actual mechanic and not just the guy who cleans and sweeps up after them like he’s been doing for the last year and a bit. He’s an older gentleman, doesn’t do much small talk, is in a permanent old man bad attitude, but he’s a good guy— reminds him of Wayne at times. Eddie trusts him enough, especially not to go talking about him around town. 

“Uh-huh. Grandkids too,” he answers, barely looking up from his newspaper. Eddie knew this of course, but he couldn't think of any other way to approach the topic. 

“Right, sorry,” Eddie apologizes, wringing his hands out of nervousness and dragging out the point of interrupting Bill’s lunch break.  

“You gonna be a father?” Bill asks bluntly.

Father? Eddie's familiar with a particular ‘F’ word, uses it way too fucking much in fact. Father, on the other hand, is an ‘f’ word that was barely in his vocabulary, he could go weeks without letting that word pass through his thoughts, let alone it being a descriptor of his very own character. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open as his breath stutters like a kid getting caught red handed. “No.” he stumbles to answer. “Uh— maybe. I don’t know. We don’t know.”

“So what are you askin’?”

“Your girlfriend— uh, wife—”

“Wife,” Bill answers with an annoyed ring to it. 

“Right, your wife… What was she like when she got pregnant?” 

Bill shakes his head, ignoring the question. “Did she take a test? They have those now. Can buy ‘em at the store,” he gruffs.

“We did, but it was negative. She… she said they’re wrong sometimes though, and she thought that… she thought that maybe it was wrong?”

Bill sets down his newspaper, the edges of both his fists meeting the surface of the table top. He looks to Eddie, catching his flighty eye contact, giving him his full attention.

“Morning sickness?”

“She’s been sick the last couple of days.”

“Hormonal?”

“Hormonal?” Eddie asks, quirking a brow. Bill rolls his eyes, not unlike how Wayne has done time after time.

“Bad mood? Mood swings?”

“Kind of?”

“I won’t go into detail because I respect my wife,” Bill says, eyeing Eddie through slanted eyes. “Any changes that aren’t to do with her mood?” he asks, looking down the slope of his nose.

“Huh?” Eddie thinks hard, trying to decipher what Bill means. Bill gives Eddie an encouraging nod that quickly turns short-tempered.

“Her body? Any changes?” Bill grumps.

“Oh.” Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh— I don't know. She’s not really my girlfriend, we’re just friends.” 

“Just a friend you got pregnant?” Bill’s near-permanent-scowl breaks into a smile, lips turning at the corners in a sadistic way, eyes gleaming with taunting amusement. Eddie feels his palms start to sweat. 

“So you think she’s pregnant?”

“I think you’re up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, kid. Gettin’ a friend pregnant,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. He fixes his newspaper back upright, picking up where he left off in the classifieds. 

“Well, we’re good friends. I— she… we—” Eddie thinks about telling him that it’s you— Bill knows of you. Eddie’s talked about you enough, but he bites his tongue for the same reason that he didn’t go to Wayne about this— it would be all, ‘just ask her out’, ‘quit pussyfootin’ ‘round it,’ but he doesn’t get it, he can’t just ask you out. He—

“You like her more than a friend.” Bill says, making Eddie freeze. He opens his mouth to speak, to deny, to confirm, to anything, but nothing comes out. “Oh you got it bad, huh?” Bill continues with a teasing smile.

“C’mon, it’s not—” Eddie tries to object but Bill sees right through it. 

“You love her?”

“I…” Eddie swallows, thinking over his answer. “I don’t know…maybe?”

“Well, you got an interesting journey ahead of yous if she really is pregnant,” he laughs again.

And with that entirely unhelpful conversation, Eddie spent the rest of the day not only ruminating on you being pregnant, but now, his feelings for you as well. 

────────────

After work he went straight home, showered, got redressed in sweats and the cleanest shirt he could find and beelined straight for your apartment. He made one quick stop at the pharmacy but quicker than even he anticipated, he was at your front door. 

He knocked, and then there you were, opening the door for him, not exactly smiling— but not looking angry either, or sick, which is a good start.

Greeting him with a quiet ‘hello’, you opened the door wider. He stepped into your apartment, and like he mentally rehearsed, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he could look at your reaction, he turned, hiding his face behind the curtain of his still damp hair, and kicked his shoes off. 

He’s just trying to get back on your good side. After this morning— your bad mood, and then him only making it worse by asking if you were on your period, which he knew you weren’t because you said that it's been weird since you stopped birth control but… yeah, he’s just trying to get on your good side, definitely not anything more than that. 

Clearing his throat and praying his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel, he tries to move on. “How’re you doing?” he asks. You spare him, and you don’t mention the kiss nor give him any weird reactions— which is good, right? You would tell him off if you didn’t want him to kiss you, right?

“I’m doing fine now,” you reply, turning to lead him to the kitchen. He follows behind, humming an acknowledgement. At your counter is a full, waiting dish that looks like and smells like spaghetti. You sit back in your seat, and he takes the one next to it, putting his brown shopping bag down in front of him. 

He watches you as you bring a forkful of your dinner to your mouth. “You’re eating, you must not be feeling sick anymore?”

“No, I stopped feeling sick around lunch and then I was starving,” you say through a second mouthful, swirling your third bite around the fork. 

“Nice,” he nods. Eddie’s not sure of much, not now, hardly ever, but you feeling better around lunch means you only felt sick in the morning, and you being sick in the mornings falls exactly under the conditions of morning sickness… and that means…

Swallowing down his thoughts in a thick gulp, he reaches for the pharmacy bag. “Well, I bought another test just in case,” he rushes out quickly, moving to take out the good part of his shopping haul to lessen the blow if the test somehow pisses you off. “—and I also bought you—”

“Liquorice! Oh my god and popcorn,” you say excitedly, interrupting him with the loud crinkles of you grabbing for the package of candy, quickly ripping it open. 

Eddie watches you closely, the way your eyes light up for some of your favourite foods. He was taking a risk, buying you snacks when he knew that you’ve been sick but it was that or flowers and flowers seemed a little too… forward?

Your reaction to the snacks though, it’s not abnormal, but it’s not exactly normal either… a bit too… ravenous? To be fair, you were sick and now you’re feeling better, maybe you are just extra hungry…. But then again, there's also your bad mood earlier and sure you felt like shit from being sick, but you were usually pretty happy whenever you talked to him. He wasn’t used to all of these… mood swings.

Symptom after symptom, his thoughts finally bubble out. “I think you should take the test again,” he says, interrupting you as you rip open the bag of popcorn. You pause and he holds his breath.

With a shrug, you resume your movements, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful. “But I feel fine?” you say, waving Eddie off.

“I think… maybe just in case?”

“Here, sit down, I’ll get you some spaghetti,” you ignore him, standing from your seat. “It’s so good, I swear. This is my second plate full.” You grab a dish from the cupboard, serving some up from a pot on the stove top without waiting for a reply from Eddie— not that he had one, he was too stunned by your unconcerned mood to think of one. 

Adding a slice of garlic bread to the side of the dish, you place it down in front of him, quickly moving back to your own seat to dig into the popcorn and finish your own meal. 

“You didn’t go to work today?” he asks after mumbling a polite thank you.

“No, I called in. When I got the promo, I got like six extra sick days, plus vacation time, so I figured I might as well use them,” you shrug indifferently.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, taking a quick glance at you before looking back to his plate of food, moving his fork around the plate absentmindedly. “Do you happen to have… better insurance with your job now?” he asks, attempting to match your aloofness.

You pause your fork before shoving it in your mouth, opting to turn to look at Eddie. He purposely avoids your eye contact, continuing to swirl his fork in his food.

“Why?”

“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Whenever I get my promo—” he pauses. “—if I get the promo, Coop gives out some shitty insurance plan. Was just wondering what you were getting these days,” he continues nervously.

“I have insurance.”

“Good.”

“Why’s it good?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him.

“Is it not good? You get sick, you don’t have to pay as much— I think that’s objectively good.”

“Fine,” you relent. You stare at him for another moment, but when you finally go back to your food, Eddie lets out a long breath that he was holding in before going back to his food.

He finishes his plate while lost in a daze of thoughts. There’s no way you weren’t pregnant. Absolutely no way. He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, that’s for sure, but this is checking off every single box in his very limited knowledge of symptoms. 

He only withdrew from his head when he felt you staring at him yet again. You had pushed your plate back on the counter, head resting in the palms of your hands as you watched him intently with a particular glint of something in your eyes, something that he’s only seen two other times.

“Hi?” he says shyly, cheeks tingeing pink. 

“You kissed me on the cheek when you came in,” you state.

“Yeah, I did,” he nods, cheeks deepening to crimson under your close watch. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask, stretching your leg out under the counter, running your foot along his shin.

Eddie chokes on his food before looking at you with wide eyes. Elbow bent to cover his mouth as he clears his throat from his sputtering, his eyebrows raise high, hiding under his bangs as he works through your suggestion. 

“Like stay the night or just stay the night?” he asks, eyes burning into you out of shock. 

“I just kept thinking about before… and, you know…” you say, shrugging, hooking your foot around his calf.

“So like, stay the night?” he asks, eyes glimpsing down at your outstretched leg. 

With a sly smile, you nod your head making Eddie’s eyes grow even wider.

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Eddie takes a final bite of his food before pushing back in his chair. You excitedly stand, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to your room. 

Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do when you’re both still up in arms about being pregnant, but Eddie would be a fool to say no to you. He physically couldn’t, has never had it in him. It doesn’t help that he really likes you and might potentially love you. And after all, he’s just a simple man. 

────────────

“Harder.” 

Your desirous voice echoing off of wallpapered bedroom walls, airy moans embellishing every thrust, Eddie does his best to give you what you want. Round two and countless of your orgasms later, you’re still begging Eddie to keep going.

Round one was fantastic. Sincerely earth shattering and left him winded and full heartedly wishing he took up track in his freshman year instead of smoking cigarettes. 

The night started with you riding him, insisting that he laid back, and who was he to say no to that? He watched you intently, grasping at your hips with each rise and fall, feeling the way your body nearly trembled over his own as you made yourself feel better and better. He was completely enamoured by the way your mouth rounded into a perfect oval, the way your eyes welled as you rose up and down, enjoying yourself truly and utterly. Then, when he took over, you were begging, whimpering, and moaning for him. He swore he had never came that hard in his life. 

With the long day of worrying and his stress induced sleepless nights wearing on him, he was nearly nodding off when you were on him for round two. It was exciting— you needing him like this, and his cock was kicking up again before he could process it. 

You came again, adding another tally to the growing tab of how many times you’ve come tonight. This time, you were on your hands and knees, back in a deep arch as he watched the recoil of your ass with each of his thrusts. 

The only thing on his mind was you. How you felt so perfect around his cock, how pretty you sounded whining and begging for him to keep going, how beautiful you are, and how badly he just wanted to keep making you feel good, but then it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

He heard it once, how pregnant women would sometimes get really horny. Insatiably horny— and you just kept asking for more, begging for him to keep going. You were cumming and still managing to ask him to keep going. He had never had sex like this before.

His skin that had grown damp throughout the night, covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, now drew dry, just like his mouth. His thighs burned, his calves begged for a break, his balls were aching from staving off his own release, and now there was very little uncertainty in his mind that you weren’t pregnant. 

Mid thrust, you clench around him, stealing his already stolen breath, pulling from his meandering thoughts. He refocuses his gaze on the bounce and jiggle of your ass and the sweet noises singing from your lips before letting his palms slide down the slope of your arched back, giving himself better leverage to keep going. 

There's no doubt in his mind that he can finish this round. Not only would he feel like an asshole if he tapped out now, but he would also feel like the biggest idiot because this has been it for him. This is the orbiting thought in his mind, the exact scenario that he conjures up in his imagination during his alone time. 

Swallowing thickly and taking an open mouth breath, he moves a hand from your back to wrap around your torso, finding your clit with his finger tips. “One more. Gonna give you one more, pretty girl,” he rasps, voice horse and ragged from his near panting. Your back arches even deeper, hips pressing back into his as you let out a wavered moan. 

“Feels so good, Eddie. Love your cock, feels so good,” you cry, taking heavy, moaning breaths between words, your voice staggering with each of his thrusts that push you further up into the mattress. 

“Mhm, know you love it, baby. Sucking me right in, n' so wet for me," Eddie says through exasperated breaths, words coming out babbled from his focus on not cumming as your walls squeeze him harder and harder.

“Want you to cum inside me again,” you whimper out. Eddie doesn’t answer, he just thrusts harder, rolling his hips against your backside, making you moan louder and giving you the last of every ounce of energy he has left in him.

When he feels your pussy start to flutter, tensing, and pulsating around him again, he knows you're close.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathes, voice only getting lower and more ragged from the absolute marathon of a night.

“Gonna cum, Eddie.” Your voice rises so high in volume that Eddie's certain your neighbours can hear. 

“Cum for me baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock one last time tonight,” he grunts, starting to feel delusional with the way his head spins. He grips his free hand on your hip, pressing his fingers into your skin and grounding himself to you, trying to push away some of the daze to think clearly. 

Eddie feels your tightness pulling him in almost immediately. He holds off his own release for as long as he can, bringing you through your orgasm until he can’t take it anymore. He pulls out just in time for his own release, sending his cum spurting over your lower back as his chest practically explodes, burning lungs having all the air expelled from them in a wheeze as he stutters through his orgasm. 

After taking a few, long moments to catch his breath, he reaches for the same towel he used earlier, wiping you clean before falling to your side feeling absolutely exhausted.

“Wanted you to cum inside,” you say pitifully, cuddling closer to him.

“Can’t, you're not on birth control, we didn’t have a condom.”

“You did it before,” you pout. 

“Yeah.” Eddie says, exhaling deeply. 

Yeah and now he's 99.9% sure you’re pregnant. 

“It’s late, got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, eyes unwillingly fluttering closed as you push your way closer to him, pressing your bare chest to his, speckling gentle kisses along his neck.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pressing another kiss to his skin. He barely has the energy to respond and you deflate against him with a sigh.

“Baby,” he coos, frowning when he looks at your lower lip jetting out in a pout. As much as he’d love to keep going, he physically could not go for another round. His cock might let him despite it feeling nearly raw from all the friction, but his aching body definitely would not. “Let me just hold you, okay? We can cuddle,” he offers to try to fix your frown. It only works the slightest bit, relaxing the crinkle in between your brows.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold. You let out a quiet whine at first, clearly upset, but you eventually relax into him, melding to his side. It’s not long before Eddie’s out cold, completely wiped clean of energy. 

────────────

You woke up, ripping yourself from Eddie’s grasp, hand over your mouth, rushing for the bathroom again. Eddie follows behind you, barely alert, but at your side, rubbing your back.

When you were certain everything inside your stomach was gone, you sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub.

“Think I should take that test.” 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

────────────

With the anticipation of waiting another painstaking twenty minutes, you sit on the ledge of the tub in your bathroom, watching Eddie’s back as he tinkers with the test again. The tailbone pain from sitting on the ceramic edge is nothing compared to the swirling nausea growing from your nervousness.

He had sat with you for a few minutes like the last time, but got up halfway through to get you water. He dallyed in the kitchen for a few minutes, and it was far too casual for you, especially too casual for the dramatic dungeon master himself. It was almost unnerving. 

At the fifteen minute mark, he sat with you again, throwing an arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into him. If his casualness was him disguised his nervousness, he doesn’t let on. 

This time, at the twenty minute mark, his watch beeped the grating default Casio alarm, and with the chime of a button being pressed, he stands, turning his back to you as faces the vanity. You don’t follow him, you couldn’t at this point, you feel welded to the tub ledge. 

Unlike last time, he doesn’t look at the instructions. He doesn’t hum. He doesn’t make any noise, he just turns to you, his body blocking the test. You feel your heart rate pick up, but he doesn’t give anything away with facial expressions or body language. 

His mouth opens, he takes a breath, you hold yours once again. 

“Well…” he starts. “You were right.” His tone is flat and you blink, trying to clear your confusion.

“I was right?” 

“Yeah.” he shrugs. “About the last test being wrong.”

“No.” 

“Yup,” he affirms, putting a plosive pop at the end of the word. Too casual.

With your heart pounding in your chest, thumping miles in minutes, you couldn’t process this even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You deny it. 

“You’re lying,” you state, ending your words with a light huff of laughter. Surely, this is all a joke. Eddie’s a comedian, right? Ill-conceived jokes left and right over the last month, this has to be one of them.

He doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t light up. He doesn’t laugh. “Come look,” he says, beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. 

You sit up from the ledge of the tub, moving to stand next to Eddie at the counter. He pulls out the instructions, pointing to a diagram.

“If the liquid turns blue, that means pregnant."

You look at the test, not bothering to look where Eddie points. Blue liquid sits where any other colour should be.

“It’s blue,” you state.

“Pregnant.” 

Pregnant.

The moment is eerily still. In the movies this is where the happy couples jump with excitement. In TV shows, they call family and let them know their good news. In commercials, they celebrate. They hug, they smile, they cry happy tears together. 

Eddie’s your best friend, but you’re not a couple, this wasn’t planned. So you both stand in silence, staring at the positive test.

“What do we do?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“We could go get something to eat? I can call out and we can rent a movie or something?”

“Something to eat?” you laugh. It’s positive and he’s thinking about eating?

“Yeah, you should try to eat something,” he shrugs, turning to look at you. 

“Eddie. I’m—” Pregnant, you go to say but the word dies on your tongue. “Why are you not freaking out?” you say, staring at him with wide eyes trying to understand how he’s not affected at all by this. You’ve known Eddie a long time and he’s not exactly the calm and collected type. 

“Well…” he shrugs. “When you said that you thought the first one was wrong, I trusted you more than the test. Believe me, I’ve been freaking out, but now… it’s, kind of, settled in already, I guess.”

“Settled in?” you say, jaw dropping in shock. It’s your body, you were mostly certain you were pregnant— in denial at times, yes, but you knew, yet having it confirmed is still shell-shocking. How has it already ‘settled in’ for him?

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “If you want to keep it, I’m happy. If not, I’ll support you.”

“Happy?” you say, bewildered. 

“Well… yeah. We’ve... we've been friends forever. A kid that’s part you and part me? That’s fucking awesome, how could I not be happy, y’know?” he says, moving backwards to sit on the ledge of the tub. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, watching you with eyes that are too calm. Too, too, too calm about this. 

In your quiet mental chaos, you take a final look at the blue liquid before moving to sit next to him. Your skin prickles with cold shivers but you feel hot all over, like there's a flame of nerves in your belly and a hot air balloon in your chest making each breath feel laboured. 

“I’m…” you stumble over your words. “I— pregnancy is so— Eddie,” you breathe out. Your eyes inevitably start to water.  

“Pregnancy is so Eddie?” he laughs before turning towards you, noticing your eyes turning glossy. His face drops immediately, features turning soft as his brows turning up in concern. “Hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, remember? Everything will be fine,” he assures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again, bringing you closer to him in a hug. 

“I know, I just—” you force a breath in your lungs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“You can cry, it's okay,” he says quietly, and unfortunately, each of his nearly-whistled, whispered consonants pulls out a wave of fresh tears from you. His hand rubs over your shoulder and your cheeks only grow damper. “It’s okay to cry,” he repeats and you press your face to the cotton of his shirt. He pulls you in tighter, rubbing your back in long, steady strokes. 

Eddie’s seen you cry more than a handful of times— more than several handfuls of times, but this is substantial— it just feels different. Different because you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby. A baby with Eddie. Your best friend Eddie. Eddie, who you’ve had sex with three times. Eddie, who you’ve known forever, who you’ve spent day after day with, as a friend. Friends. You’re pregnant. Holy shit. 

Your mind races and you divert your thoughts before you stray down that road. “It’s gonna be half you and half me,” you say, mostly to yourself, repeating his earlier sentiment. 

“Half you, half me,” he echoes. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and yeah, this is different— different because Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the top of your head. He doesn’t give you kisses on the cheek either. Eddie’s given you noogies, he’s butted foreheads with you, even flicked you on numerous occasions, all particularly during your shared middle school years, but kisses? Kisses are unheard off. What you guys have been doing lately is unheard of. 

“We had sex and now we’re having a baby,” you state plainly, trying to bring any coherency to the situation, desperately needed to hear the unheard of.

“We did and now we are,” Eddie laughs. 

“You came inside me and now there’s a baby in there,” you continue, hearing every syllable of your own voice.

“That’s—” Eddie laughs quietly again. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” 

“I had morning sickness.”

“Yes you did. And mood swings.”

Pause.

“No I didn’t!” you gasp, pulling back from Eddie to look at him with a scowl. 

“You kind of did,” he smiles, dimples set deep in his grin.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You were also insatiably horny. I was getting leg cramps all night because of you,” he says, bopping your nose, making you scrunch it. Asshole.

“I was not ‘insatiably horny,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, if you wanted to have sex again, I could cum in you now, ‘cause you can’t get any more pregnant than you already are,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, purposefully batting his lashes, playing up a faux coyness just to get a rise out of you. Such an asshole.

You respond by hitting him in the stomach, followed by pushing him until he almost falls into the tub, grabbing onto the shower curtain to stop himself. 

“Hey— hey, you were the one asking for it!” he defends, corners of his lips turned up in an untimely smirk. 

“I’m never having sex again,” you shriek, burying your face in your hands. 

“Well, let’s not make drastic choices right now,” he says amusedly, bringing you back in for a hug.

“I’m serious. Never again. Not with you, not with anybody. Ever.” 

“Let’s just get some fresh air, maybe we’ll start thinking straight about this,” he laughs, pulling you to stand up and guiding you out of the bathroom.

Pregnant.

tags: @princesatracionera @venuslayla23-blog @mastermindmiko @tlclick73 @yujyujj @josephquinnsfreckles @uselessnewt @animechick555 @prestinalove @sluggzillaa @daisyridleyss (if you want to be tagged for the next part I kindly ask that you please reblog!)

thank you for reading! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader

[pinkrelish]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶It's a dreary start to the week, but as the days go by, the dynamic between you and Eddie shifts. You both ask questions with hidden motives, and after a significant morning, he tells you about Adrie's mom. Then, Steve shows up unannounced with a proposition Eddie can't refuse. Literally.✶

NSFW — slow burn, mutual pining, flirting, light angst, depictions of poverty, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 2/20 [wc: 5.3k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 2: Whimsy as the Wind

Monday was a storm.

There was no better stimulant than the rush of a morning against the rain. Hitting like bullets on the skin when Eddie clutched Adrie to his chest to shield her on the way to the car. Spelling disaster for the braids she asked for, then complained about when he pulled her hair too tight. Dripping into his eyes as he fumbled with the buckle of her car seat in the jet black hours. Drenching the bottom of her favorite pants despite his efforts to protect her.

“Daddy’s sorry,” he mumbled on her wet forehead shining under the dim overhead light.

On the way to preschool she was quiet. The rhythm of the fat drops pounding on the window soothed her, and he was grateful, despite the rising sensation of lateness grating on his nerves.

Everything moved slower on stormy days. Yet he moved faster. It didn’t matter if he skipped eating his breakfast at home to get out the door quicker, the red stop lights took longer, he swore it.

Life was against him. But Adrie was quiet, and Mrs. Teresa was in charge of helping the little ones out of their cars. She was an out-of-towner, meaning, she wasn’t aware of Eddie’s reputation, and therefore was nicer to him than the other teachers, taking care to go beyond superficial greetings.

“Good morning, my dear,” she said to him, voice rough with age. She held an umbrella above his head as he got Adrie out, and followed him to the awning. His coveralls were already darkened by rain, but the gesture was kind, as was him offering his arm for her to hold onto as she stepped over the whirlpool circling the sewer drain.

Eddie sank into a crouch to ease his daughter’s vice grip from his neck. “Give Daddy a kiss goodbye, ‘kay?” Begrudgingly, she stood on her own two feet, and gave him a quick, annoyed peck on his cheek. “You gonna be good today?”

The attitude radiating off her was not promising.

“Your friends are waiting for you inside,” Mrs. Teresa said. “I think they’re playing dress up.”

An offer which proved enticing, as demonstrated by Adrie bolting from him for the front doors.

“No running,” he sighed to himself. The older woman chortled along, and wished him to have a good day as well. He should’ve taken the heart-palpitating lightning strike and simultaneous adrenaline-inducing clap of thunder as an omen when she uttered those words.

If not those things, then certainly his breakfast was a harbinger of the day he was about to have: instead of making two grape jelly biscuits, and two with egg, he ended up making two with both jelly and his daughter’s cold leftover scrambled eggs, and the others were left plain.

He ate the plain ones first before venturing into uncharted territory.

“Fuck no,” he said, mouth full of grape flavored egg-mulch. At least no one had to witness him spit it back into the container.

David’s Auto Repair didn’t have much in the way of shelter to keep him dry during his smoke break, so he sat in his car in the alleyway to pass the time until it was acceptable to arrive early.

‘Early’ being the time when you usually arrived, and an hour before Carl.

Til then, he cranked the heat and reclined his seat back, hugging himself to relieve the constant shiver his damp coveralls caused sticking to his skin.

Now, the heavy rain patter became a lullaby. Pelting the roof, easy on his falling eyelids. Precious seconds, minutes under the guided meditation of tap, tap. Tap, tap. Responsibilities drifting to the recesses of his mind. Thinking back on the days he spent doing this in the high school parking lot, promising Wayne he’d work hard to graduate only to end up napping in his van for most of the morning.

Eddie willed his eyes open. His watch told him he’d been asleep for fourteen minutes. Still early for work, but he felt a jolt of anxiety anyway.

He couldn’t blow things off like he used to. Not with people relying on him. Adrie and Wayne both depended on him to not be a fuck up. And if they weren’t motivation enough, he had another..

You should be sitting at your desk right now. If he timed it right, he’d pass by while the scent of dried coffee still clung to you before it had started brewing, which was an odd association he didn’t know he craved at the moment until it was at the forefront of his mind.

“Already following her around like a lost puppy, Munson,” he chided himself, turning off the car and bracing himself for the sprint to the employee’s entrance at the back of the garage.

And when he entered, the employee’s entrance at the front of the garage slammed open on a flashing cue of lightning, and there stood what he could only assume was a Creature from the Deep.

You huffed in two breaths, “Holy. Shit.”

Eddie tactlessly stared from across the room. You were beyond soaked. Your primary colored all-weather jacket appeared to not be waterproof in a monsoon, sagging on your frame like a melting street light of red, yellow, and green. Much like his coveralls, your once light-wash jeans were now dark blue. Somewhat adorably, though, was your pissed-off face being scrunched in a glare due to your hoodie drawstrings cinched tight in a circle, framing from your brows to your lips.

Your shoes gushed out puddles of rain on the concrete as you shoved your bike forward and let it fall in a clatter.

“I fucking hate this town.”

“Why are you riding a bike?” he asked, thinking you’d gone insane.

“Because I don’t have a car?”

“Why don’t you have a car?”

You sputtered sarcastically, gesturing at your bike. “Because I’m from the city! We have things like public transportation. Trains, taxis, buses.. walking! I've never needed a car to reach my mailbox before.”

Thinking himself helpful, he suggested, “I know a place where we can get you one for cheap.”

“Dude, I don’t even have a license.”

“Why don’t you–?”

“Trains!”

Eddie’s face collapsed into his own glare right back at you, and he waved his hands about the auto repair garage for automobiles where he fixed cars for people in need of transportation in which you answered their calls regarding said transportation and ordered parts to repair said personal automobiles at the garage intended for cars where he worked. You got the irony.

“None of this matters,” you said, dismissing him. True, it didn't matter, and he knew from your exaggerations your anger at him was in jest, but he appreciated the banter regardless. It was a nice break from reality. “It took me so long to get here because my whole street was flooded, and I’m guessing it’s flooding outside of Hawkins where the storm is coming from. We were supposed to get a delivery yesterday, but it never showed up.”

There was a pause where both of you accepted the arduous day ahead.

You said, “I’ll start calling around to see where our delivery might be stuck.”

“And I’ll do what I can without it,” he agreed.

Inhaling a breath of fortitude knowing you’d be informing a few upset individuals today that their cars wouldn’t be ready, you unzipped your jacket and loosened the drawstrings, dropping your hood back. You froze.

“Oh God, don’t look at my hair,” you begged, scuttling through the lobby and into the bathroom.

There were no more exchanges after you ran away. There was no time to entertain the lingering gazes, or small conversations where he thrived on your smile. He had to process what he could to earn money before sundown, and you played phone tag until you yawned, and stared blank-faced at the wall while customers bitched at you.

By normal closing hours, you were both too beaten down to do more than walk past each other on your way out without a goodbye.

A part of him wanted to do the chivalrous thing and offer you a ride, but that seemed too forward, too intimate, too invasive in his small car where his backseat was partially taken up by his daughter’s car seat, and he couldn’t come to a conclusion about your surprise when seeing her, nor unpack the loaded question of why he cared.

Whatever.

At least the rain stopped.

————

Tuesday was overcast.

You looked at Eddie leaning on the countertop to your desk and spun your hand while rolling your eyes, wishing the person on the other end of the phone line would hurry up. Eventually, you hung up, and interrupted him from picking at his nails. “They said it’ll be thirty minutes before they get here.”

“Guess I’ll wait then.”

He didn’t make to leave, and you didn’t have anything else to do, so you laced your fingers and leaned onto your forearms towards him, hoping through giving him your attention, he’d willingly talk to you for once.

“Um,” he drew out, searching the expanse between your hands, where he encroached on your space if only to the wrist. He tapped his knuckles on the vinyl. Swallowed visibly “About your policy thing.. Did you really move here just because your roommate asked you to?”

You drew your gaze up from his descending Adam’s apple, over the soft edge of his jawline, and grainy stubble on his chin. “I mean, kinda, yeah. Obviously, she’s been my best friend for years and needed help moving anyway, so I was up to make the trip, but when she asked if I wanted to stay, I said yes. Seemed intriguing enough; discovering what else was out there after living in cities for so long. See what sorta trouble I could get into when not surrounded by the usual nightlife options.”

“And how’s that going so far?”

“Bobbie’s mom and I are real good at solving the Wheel of Fortune before the contestants.”

Eddie snorted.

He dropped his focus to the looping circles he was drawing with his fingertip. Breathing deeper than necessary, and holding the air in his lungs for a few taut seconds. He rambled, “Sounds like Hawkins isn’t the place for you. Just somewhere to blow through, waiting for someone to ask you to, like, go to Chicago and be a bartender or somethin’.” He ended with a laugh aimed at his hands. Hollow. Empty of the humor he was pretending. “No responsibilities. Ready to get up and go whenever you want. That’s cool.”

“Been there, done that,” you mitigated the tension with a joke. “Bartending in Chicago, I mean.” He wasn’t being purposefully cruel, but the bitterness creeping into his words stung.

You glanced at his ringless fingers. Was he envious of your lifestyle because he was tied down? Your gut instinct told you he wasn’t the type to hold that sort of resentment towards his wife or daughter, so it had to be something else.

“Or,” you countered, “Someone could ask me to stay in Hawkins, and then I’d be obligated to, if we’re abiding by the policy. Who knows, maybe Kevin needs someone to walk his dogs, and then I can lead a nice, quiet, boring life here, absent of any fun or risks, hanging out with dogs for the next eternity. Is that what you want? Me bothering you until you’re in the grave?”

He squinted. “Fair point.” The laugh lines bracketing his mouth enhanced his appeal, joining the crow’s feet, and the harsh crease between his brows as he raised one in smug curiosity.

Perhaps you were staring at him for longer than you realized.

By chance, a chime signaled you both to a customer walking in the door in need of an oil change, and you reaped any opportunity to tease him. “Sorry, but some of us have work to do and can’t chit chat all day,” you cooed with the absolute cockiest head tilt to taunt him.

Shooing him away with a manila folder was extra, you had to admit, but upon recognizing the manner in which he rolled his lips inward to disguise the fact he was smiling, you figured smacking his hands was well worth the weird look from the woman waiting to speak to you.

————

Wednesday was a gale-force.

You went for it.

Arriving at dawn, you prioritized catching Eddie at the beginning of his morning cigarette.

He was leaning against the wall, upper body hunched with his hand cupped around his mouth, flicking his lighter until more than sparks stood against the gusts whipping the collar of his coveralls against his neck. His hair was blown back from his face, granting you the full picture of his raised eyebrows.

“Good morning, Eddie!”

“Hey? You’re early. I thought you’d get swept away on your bike like Dorothy, and I’d have to seek the courage to find you.”

“So in this scenario you’re the Cowardly Lion?” you asked, sidling up next to him to be heard above the wind.

He considered the implication and shrugged. “Guess even in my wildest dreams I’m still a coward.” Like any nice person, you sprung to assure him that despite your very short month of knowing each other, he (probably) wasn’t a coward, and he caught you. He caught you with your mouth wide open, ready to defend his honor.

Smoke slipped from his coy lips.

You tutted, “I think you’re the Scarecrow.” No brains.

“Anyway,” you went on, back to the reason your calves ached from pedaling like a mad man to get here at the same time as him. “It’s not like I bike that far. Bobbie’s parents live on that street next to the big open field, like, fifteen minutes away. Maybe twenty. Or ten?” You pointed vaguely north.

There’s a reason you never navigated on road trips.

“I thought they sold that empty lot forever ago,” he said.

“Well, unless they sold it to a bunch of tiny white mice who scurry every time I open the back door, I think it’s still abandoned.” You took your hands out of your jacket pockets and displayed them. “Not just mice, either. The other day I swear there was a spider the size of my palm in the bathroom.”

Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he tipped his head back to blow the smoke above him before leaning over to study your hands up close. Contemplating them with keenness under the gray wash sky. Mumbling numbers to himself as if he were taking measurements.

He straightened up, and concluded, “Eh, not that impressive with how small your hands are.”

“Are they small?”

You faced him and presented your right hand.

Take the bait. Take the bait. Take the bait.

Eddie rolled onto his shoulder, body still at an angle from his legs crossed at the ankles. With a blank face, he understood what you wanted and decided to indulge your silliness, even if it meant sacrificing his warmth.

Uncrossing his arms, he wiped his hands on his clothes first out of habit.

Come on, Eddie.

None the wiser, he matched your thumbs. Pressed his left hand to yours.

Holy shit. He fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“Mm,” you hummed. You leaned in for a better look.

His hand was warm and damp from sweat. Concentrated heat emanated from his palm sealed to yours, securing the soft cups together, aligning the stretch of your fingers. Where yours were soft, his were rough. Lines of thick calluses. Hardened exteriors acting as a barrier from your tender self discovering what his skin truly felt like brushing over your own.

He wore three rings. All gaudy and themed. Costume-y. Definitely not of the wedding variety.

That didn’t mean he was single, but you doubted he was taken when you turned to him, and found his large nose to be inches from yours, and his gaze to be fond of your cheeks before meeting your eyes.

He bent the top joint of his fingers over yours, and slid his thumb to the outside, crowding your bones in a tight squeeze, establishing his advantage. “Still small,” he said, toothy and boyish; mouth crooked, and hand rolled cigarette bouncing on the syllables. “Let me know when you see a spider as big as my palm.”

Hypnotized, you agreed with whatever he said. “Duly noted. I’ll keep an eye out.”

His Cupid’s bow had no business being that sharp, nor his bottom lip that plump.

————

Thursday was raw.

Nighttime was a purple haze chasing the orange glow behind the trees. You walked around the garage with a small trash can in your arms, tidying up the place. Eddie was staying late again. He said it was to make up for Monday’s mess, but those jobs were completed days ago.

You nudged his boots to get his attention on your way to clean up the work bench. Though you wouldn’t consider yourselves close, you collected the few details you knew of his life, and held them dear to your heart, feeling privileged to know them. “Is your uncle not working today?”

His thighs flexed under the strained fabric of his uniform as he cranked a wrench. “He is,” he grunted from beneath the car, “I’m just trying to get in some hours before he leaves for the night shift.”

Fuck it, you’ll just ask. “How come you work late so often?”

The grinding stopped. For a moment, Eddie laid there, stomach rising and falling as he debated with himself. Seconds went by until he set down the tool and rolled out, sitting up on the creeper board.

Your question struck pink across his pale cheeks. Rather, the way you avoided it brought shame to his face. Why don’t you want to spend more time with your family?

The societal judgment of what he was about to admit weighed on him. He curled in on himself. Drew his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them loosely, latching at the wrist. He braced the words on his tongue–raw and vulnerable–and slipped a finger under his bandana to scratch at his temple.

“Sometimes I’d rather just be here,” he began slowly. “As soon as I get home, I’m the problem solver, you know? Whatever needs to be done, I have to do it while Adrie’s talking a mile a minute, screaming every question under the sun at me, and climbing all over me. I’m doing shit like trying to not burn her dinner while switching over the laundry and picking up the living room and telling her not to touch the stove and fighting with her to take a bath and making sure she has clothes picked out for the morning because if she doesn’t, then I have to spend twenty minutes calming her down before we leave for school so she can decide which shirt she wants to wear, and God.” He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his fingers on either side of his nose, muffling his voice. “I know I’m a shit dad, but sometimes I just want to turn my brain off, and stay here instead.”

“You’re not a shit dad,” you said with soft conviction.

He disregarded you with a mean scoff. “I sound like I hate my kid.”

“You sound overwhelmed, and tired, Eddie.”

“Maybe..”

Remembering you were holding the trash can, you set it down and leaned your hip on the workbench, settling into a comfortable position with a gentle ease of kindness to your expression, showing him it was okay to vent. You’d listen. It was safe. It was safe to show you the ugly parts of him. It would be okay.

You approached the next topic with care, though you could infer the answer for yourself now, “Is there no one else you can rely on besides your uncle to help alleviate some of the stress?”

“No. It’s just us. My parents have been out of the picture for a long time, and Adrie’s mom, uh..” He surrendered to the need for eye contact, wanting to see you, and stated evenly, “Adrie’s mom and I were never together. She was a customer of mine–”

Darting your gaze around the room, you pointed at the garage in an expression of ‘Really, dude?’

He turned puckish. He pinched his index and thumb together and tapped them to his smirk, indicating a much different line of work. You ‘ahh’d.

“Yeah, not a frequent flier either, just someone I saw here and there at parties or whatever. All it took was one night of stupidity. One fucking night of mistake after mistake, man.. N-Not that I think of Adrienne as a mistake! God, no. Just–y’know–the events leading up to her weren’t ideal.”

You held your hand up to stop him. “I’m not judging you. My parents never bothered to correct themselves.”

Mutual pain converged in your matching shrugs. Both of you were the undesireables. Though, he couldn’t imagine you being called a mistake when his failures were glaring.

Sinking into the solace of your presence, he explained further, “Adrie’s mom said–at most–three sentences to me after giving birth, and that was it. Everything else was handled by the court. She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with us, so sole custody should’ve been easy, but the system fucking sucks. Not once did I say anything contradictory; I made it clear from the beginning I wanted my daughter, but I know how I look on paper.. Trailer trash through and through. Busted for drugs more than once. Living with my uncle in a single bedroom piece of shit. Taking three attempts to pass high school. No real job at the time, and beyond broke. They kept trying to convince her to split custody, at least for the first year, but no.” There was a cynical dejection about him. One of haunting acceptance, thinking lowly of himself with his head hung, and glazed over eyes staring faraway. “She found someone better. Some guy with money who lived in Indianapolis, and she wanted to start a life with him. Move on from Adrienne. And me.”

“Eddie?” you called out to him.

“Hm?”

“You may not view my opinion highly, but I think you’re a great dad, and person. Money, reputation, criminal record or whatever else can go fuck itself.” You folded your legs under you, and sat opposite him with your back resting against the table leg. He scooted closer on his board, narrowing the swath of concrete between you to a few feet. “Beat yourself up all you want, but your love for your daughter is apparent. She’s happy. She’s safe. She’s fed. You take care of her just fine, and you’re allowed to feel frustrated, and you’re allowed to feel like you need a break.”

When he remained unconvinced, you insisted, “Adrie adores you, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “I know. That’s why Wayne never has these problems with her. It’s only me she’s ultra clingy with. Like if she’s not attached to me twenty-four-seven I cease to exist and she’ll never see me again.”

Something beautiful occurred in his shy glance. In his bashful smile. In the clumsy removal of his bandana, pulling his hair free from the ponytail and shaking it out. Wild.

His big brown eyes regarded you, and you beheld him in a similar light.

Something changed.

No longer casual acquaintances; you two looked at each other like you were friends.

“Sorry for rambling so much,” Eddie said.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Good. Because I’m not done.” He crept forward a few more inches, and aired his grievances in a lighthearted tone, bitching for the sake of getting it off his chest, “This time of year is really rough on us. Gotta buy her all new school supplies with whatever franchise or animal she’s obsessed with now. Which is unicorns, by the way. And, y’know kids grow like crazy. If it’s not an entire new wardrobe, then it’s the shoes. I swear this kid goes through shoes like she’s ruining them on purpose. I’m almost certain I buy new ones every time I blink.” 

A car passed on the street outside; the only break in the suffocating silence of a brick building echoing Eddie’s dramatic hand gestures as he sought sanity.

“She starts kindergarten next September and I’m already dreading it. She’s made lots of friends, which I’m grateful for.. Seriously, I’m really grateful that she’s made friends so easily, but she always wants to dress like them, do the things they do, go the places they go, and I try to figure out ways to afford it, but sometimes it’s too much, and I fucking despise telling her ‘no.’ Then there’s also the birthday parties basically every other weekend, and you can’t attend those empty-handed either, can you?”

You nodded patiently. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Kids are expensive, and it’s only worse at Christmas,” he concluded. Your stomach growled. “You want to leave, don’t you?”

Remaining in your slumped over position with your elbow propped on your thigh, and your cheek to your fist with your eyes closed, you asked, “What gave you that idea?”

He could mock you to his heart’s content, but you were right.

“Shit,” he exhaled, reading the wall clock. “We should go. Wayne leaves for work soon.”

“And Bobbie’s probably waiting for me to get home to gush about her girlfriend.” You stood up and stretched. “It’s cute, like a long-lost lovers situation, but yeah, she can go on for hours.”

————

Friday was cloudy with a chance of sun.

Tires screeched to a stop in the driveway of the garage, and someone honked their horn incessantly.

Startled, Eddie hit his head on the hood of the car he was bent over, and hissed between his teeth. He rubbed at the sore spot and glared behind him, ready to tell the nuisance off.

Except, if he did that, he’d be telling off his best friend.

“Of course it’s you,” he projected in a clipped voice, making his annoyance known.

Steve slammed his car door shut, and leaned against it, lighting a cigarette while Eddie made his way over. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “I’m here on my lunch break, so if you wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little pep in your step, Munson.”

Passing by your inquisitive face smashed to the window beside your desk, Eddie raised his hand to show you everything was okay, and that there was no need to chew someone out for causing a disturbance.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie asked, shuffling up to him. The sun was warm on his skin; a nice change from the shadowy cold warehouse, and Steve basked in it as well, golden hair flopping in the gentle breeze.

There was a moment where they both displayed their nervous habits. Eddie with his tongue prodding the inner corner of his lips, and Steve taking inventory of his surroundings during the drag of his cigarette.

“Look,” Steve stressed. Eddie sighed. “We haven’t seen much of you lately, and Nancy had the idea to go to the theater to see that horror movie that came out a few weeks ago. We’ll probably have the whole place to ourselves, and she, ah, invited someone else. Someone who is also single, if you catch my very obvious drift.”

Eddie’s hand immediately climbed its way to his throat, stroking the column and making a sound of disinterest. “I dunno, man.”

“Well, we’ve already paid the babysitter to watch a third kid, and we don’t mind Adrie sleeping over for the night. You can drop her off at 4 and, uh–” He nodded at his coveralls. “Get cleaned up, or whatever and meet us at 6. Make a good first impression.” At Eddie’s apathetic grunt, he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say, but your date’s already agreed to go, and it’d be a shame if you left them hanging.”

Rolling his shoulders, Eddie forced himself to stop fidgeting by stuffing his hands in his pockets, and focused on the clouds crawling across the sky. “Fine. What’re they like?”

“Your date?”

“Yes, my fucking date you moron.”

Steve shrugged with a mischievous grin. “Dunno. I said Nancy’s the one who invited her, not me.”

Eddie faltered, “So, you don’t even know if she’s into someone like me?” When Steve quirked his eyebrow, it just increased Eddie’s agitation. He made sweeping motions down his body. Steve continued to smoke with a dumb pout. “Jesus, dude.” He stamped in a circle, making a big show with his arms, imploring with an exhausted bite to his tone, “You know what I’m asking.”

“No, I don’t know if she’s into metalhead freaks who are dads, sorry.”

“You’re the bane of my existence.”

“So it’s an official ‘yes?’” he asked without the sarcasm. “I mean, you might as well show up. Wayne’s got his poker tournament with his friends today, doesn’t he? That means you’ll have the place to yourself. Hey, play your cards right and you’ll get some action tonight. I imagine you haven’t gotten lucky since Adrie’s conception, yeah?”

Steve’s laugh was explosive and loud, but it petered out to a pitying noise the longer Eddie squinted into the distance.

“Really? I was just trying to joke with you. Sorry, man.”

Eddie lifted one side of his mouth in a dull grin. “S’kay.”

“Well,” Steve said, flicking the rest of his cigarette. “Just be yourself. Maybe keep the nerdy talk to a minimum, and you’re golden.” He turned to leave, and stopped. “Oh! And Robin’s back in town, if you didn’t hear. She’ll be there tonight too, serving as the fifth wheel, so at least you won’t be the most awkward one there. Come to think of it, I think it’s her friend who’ll be your date.”

“Sounds promising.”

“See ya at 6!” Steve said as he opened the door and fell into place behind the wheel, beaming pure sunshine up at Eddie.

“Yeah, bye.”

Going back inside the garage, it took a second for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, and his first inclination was to look over at you behind your desk, totally filling out the paperwork in front of you, regardless if you were holding a pen or not.

Many thoughts crossed his mind upon watching you open random drawers, and shuffle papers to appear busy. Rationally, he should’ve jumped at the chance for Steve’s offer. A night out with someone without the looming responsibility of adulthood sounded like heaven.. But there was a knot in his stomach telling him to reject the date–not because he couldn’t be bothered, like Steve assumed, but because he pictured someone specific the instant he spoke the arrangement into existence.

The jaded, pessimistic part of him argued it shouldn’t matter what you thought about his love life. You two were hardly friends, and you were a drifter in search of your next big adventure. This small town wasn’t your home. You’d move on. And he should too.

He opened the glass door, and you feigned like you hadn’t been staring at him and Steve attempting to read their lips for the past few minutes. “Hey, I’ve got somewhere to be later, so I’ll actually be leaving on time today.”

“Oh, good!” you said. “Me too.”

Eyeing your thumbs up, he snorted and shook his head.

Yeah, he should move on before this feeling in his chest evolved into something bigger.

Taglist: @tlclick73 @kimmi-kat @hanahkatexo @eds1986 @mirrorsstuff @creoleguurl @loveshotzz @hazydespair @trashmouth-richie @omgshesinsane @lightcommastix @rose-tinted @lmili @wisestarlightwolf @secretdryrose @reefer-robin @aysheashea @eddiemunsons-world @mystars123 @bebe0701 @yeoldedumbslut @tayhar811 @christalcake @junggoku @fantasy-is-best @wendyfawcett @vintagehellfire @fezcoismypimp @xxsunflowerloverxx @jessepinkmanloml @nwhspidey @violetsandroses8 @kennedy-brooke @ughli @alana4610 @bmunson86 @sikirukn @hayleeshar @it-is-up-to-you @feralgoblinbabe @sammararaven

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

[blue-jisungs]

RADIO SILENCE ,, SUNGHOON SMAU

synopsis. hwang y/n and park sunghoon do not like each other. end of story. god knows why (well actually, niki is the only one who knows why). but when they’re put as co-hosts on a radio show, they’re bound to bond.

featuring. enha (duh) NCT DREAM jaemin , RED VELVET yeri, AESPA ningning, LE SSERAFIM sakura, TXT taehyun, HWANG MINHYUN + more

genre. smau duh. fluff, enemies to lovers, a lil bit of angst, crack. there will be written chapters too

warnings. my awful humour, cursing n prolly kys jokes, suggestive, typos, there might be logical errors in time stamps since it’s my first time doing a smau and i’m still figuring out how the apps work LMAO, sunghoon n yn are bit of an assholes ig + will add if there’s something more ++ DISCLAIMER: i started writing it in july 2023 so if theres something like "nct dream cb with istj" yeah. thats why. so ignore all the mixed and illogical stuff connected to that bc i just mentioned stuff that was out at the time of being

started. 6/01/2024

completed. 23/02/2024

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ocean-minho ,, @s-e-s-a-l-e-n-e ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @yenqa ,, @eneiyri ,, @aaasia111 ,, @catecita ,, @jebetwo ,, @rubywonu ,, @jiawji ,, @jeongintwt ,, @seunnimg ,, @isawritesss ,, @splat00z ,, @ilovejeongin007 ,, @sasfransisco ,, @saythenameseventeen178 ,, @hyuzaa ,, @flmtunes ,, @nxzz-skz ++++ ask in inbox to be added ! ^_^

a/n. phew. i’m so excited to do that you don’t even know???? hopefully i’ll manage to finish it LOL as i said, it’s my first time doing an actual smau so feel free to send constructive criticism 😪😪 aslo big shoutout to everyone who hyped me up on this ilysm + @vnsux who helped me a lil bit with technical stuff

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎧 ꒱ PROFILES ! y/n and the 6 dancing princesses | enSCAMpen | hwang y/n’s official kpop profile

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎙️ ꒱ MASTERLIST !

01. “devil works hard but hybe works harder”

02. “that was fucking scary my heart is going pitter patter pitter patter”

03. go girl give us nothing 🍅🍅🍅

04. ''wanna hear a joke?''

05. hoodie

06. mark lee

07. do we hear a breakup song?

08. after all this time

09. including mark himself

10. i ate it

11. only for the boba

12. "I WAS NEVER NOT BITCHLESS"

13. "ah shit here we go again"

14. “let’s give them a show”

15. DDAY

#RADIO SILENCE — ( smau ) #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon au #sunghoon fluff #enha sunghoon #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #park sunghoon #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon angst #sunghoon series #sunghoon enhypen #enha smau #enha series #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha soft hours #enhypen smau #enhypen series

[spacedocmom]

Doctor Beverly Crusher @SpaceDocMom If everybody ate exactly the same food in exactly the same amounts and exercised exactly the same, we'd all still have very different bodies. emojis: black heart, blue heart, masked 1:07 PM · Sep 1, 2023

#doctor crusher #star trek #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #support #kindness #compassion #care #health care #healthcare #medicine #body neutrality #toxic diet culture #disability #chronic illness #spoonies #spoons

[cowyolks]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT SERIES

Do you really think I ate those seeds unwillingly?

God!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley and Female Reader

A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

Warning- this story will contain graphic content of gore, sexual themes, cursing, drinking, and violence.

Table of Contents

01. Midsummers

02. The Shadow

03. The Forbidden Fruit

04. The Council

05. My Bride

06. Of Gods & Monsters

07. I See You

08. The Hymn of Nectar

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain price #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost riley x you

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When you hear "fintech," think "unlicensed bank"

Tomorrow (May 2) I’ll be in Portland at the Cedar Hills Powell’s with Andy Baio for my new novel, Red Team Blues.

In theory, patents are for novel, useful inventions that aren’t obvious “to a skilled practitioner of the art.” But as computers ate our society, grifters began to receive patents for “doing something we’ve done for centuries…with a computer.” “With a computer”: those three words had the power to cloud patent examiners’ minds.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

Patent trolls — who secure “with a computer” patents and then extract ransoms from people doing normal things on threat of a lawsuit — are an underappreciated form of “tech exceptionalism.” Normally, “tech exceptionalism” refers to bros who wave away things like privacy invasions by arguing that “with a computer” makes it all different.

These tech exceptionalists are the legit face of tech exceptionalism, the Forbes 30 Under 30 set. They’re grifters, but they’re celebrated grifters. There’s a whole bottom-feeding sludge of tech exceptionalists that don’t get the same kind of attention, like patent trolls.

Oh, and the fintech industry.

As Riley Quinn says, “when you hear ‘fintech,’ think: ‘unlicensed bank.’” The majority of fintech “innovation” consists of adding “with a computer” to highly regulated activities and declaring them to be unregulated (and, in the case of crypto, unregulatable).

There are a lot of heavily regulated financial activities, like dealing in securities (something the crypto industry is definitely doing and claims it isn’t). Most people don’t buy or sell securities regularly — indeed, most Americans own little or no stocks.

But you know what regulated financial activity a lot of Americans participate in?

Going into debt.

As wages stagnate and the price of housing, medical care, childcare, transportation and education soar, Americans fund their consumption with debt. Trillions of dollars’ worth of debt. Many of us are privileged to borrow money by walking into a bank and asking for a loan, but millions of Americans are denied that genteel experience.

Instead, working Americans increasingly rely on payday lenders and other usurers who charge sky-high interest rates, on top of penalties and fees, trapping borrowers in an endless cycle of indebtedness. This is an historical sign of a civilization in decline: productive workers require loans to engage in useful activities. Normally, the activity pans out — the crop comes in, say — and the debt is repaid.

But eventually, you’ll get a bad beat. The crop fails, the workshop burns down, a pandemic shuts down production. Instead of paying off your debt, you have to roll it over. Now, you’re in an even worse situation, and the next time you catch a bad break, you go further into debt. Over time, all production comes under the control of creditors.

The historical answer to this is jubilee: a regular wiping-away of all debt. While this was often dressed up in moral language, there was an absolutely practical rationale for it. Without jubilee, eventually, all the farmers stop growing food so that they can grow ornamental flowers for their creditors’ tables. Then, as starvation sets in, civilization collapses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

As the debt historian Michael Hudson says, “Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid.” Without jubilee, indebtedness becomes a chronic and inescapable condition. As more and more creditors attach their claims to debtors’ assets, they have to compete with one another to terrorize the debtor into paying them off, first. One creditor might threaten to garnish your paycheck. Another, to repossess your car. Another, to evict you from your home. Another, to break your arm. Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid — but when you have a choice between a broken arm and stealing from your kid’s college fund or the cash-register, maybe the debt can be paid…a little. Of course, digital tools offer all kinds of exciting new tools for arm-breakers — immobilizing your car, say, or deleting the apps on your phone, starting with the ones you use most often:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Under Trump, payday lenders romped through America. A lobbyist for the payday lenders became a top Trump lawyer:

https://theintercept.com/2017/11/27/white-house-memo-justifying-cfpb-takeover-was-written-by-payday-lender-attorney/

This lobbyist then oversaw Trump’s appointment of a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau boss who deregulated payday lenders, opening the door to triple digit interest rates:

https://www.latimes.com/business/lazarus/la-fi-lazarus-cfpb-payday-lenders-20180119-story.html

To justify this, the payday loan industry found corruptible academics and paid them to write papers defending payday loans as “inclusive.” These papers were secretly co-authored by payday loan industry lobbyists:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2019/02/25/how-payday-lending-industry-insider-tilted-academic-research-its-favor/

Of course, Trump doesn’t read academic papers, so the payday lenders also moved their annual conference to a Trump resort, writing the President a check for $1m:

https://www.propublica.org/article/trump-inc-podcast-payday-lenders-spent-1-million-at-a-trump-resort-and-cashed-in

Biden plugged many of the cracks that Trump created in the firewalls that guard against predatory lenders. Most significantly, he moved Rohit Chopra from the FTC to the CFPB, where, as director, he has overseen a determined effort to rein in the sector. As the CFPB re-establishes regulation, the fintech industry has moved in to add “with a computer” to many regulated activities and so declare them beyond regulation.

One fintech “innovation” is the creation of a “direct to consumer Earned Wage Access” product. Earned Wage Access is just a fancy term for a program some employers offer whereby workers can get paid ahead of payday for the hours they’ve already worked. The direct-to-consumer EWA offers loans without verifying that the borrower has money coming in. Companies like Earnin claim that their faux EWA services are free, but in practice, everyone who uses the service pays for the “Lightning Speed” upsell.

Of course they do. Earnin charges sky-high interest rates and twists borrowers’ arms into leaving a “tip” for the service (yes, they expect you to tip your loan-shark!). Anyone desperate enough to pay triple-digit interest rates and tip the service for originating their loan is desperate and needs to the money now:

https://prospect.org/power/05-01-2023-fintech-ewa-payday-loan-scam/

EWA annual interest rates sit around 300%. The average EWA borrower uses the service two or three times every month. EWA CEOs and lobbyists claim that they’re banking the unbanked — but the reality is that they’re acting as sticky-fingered brokers between banks and young, poor workers, marking up traditional bank services.

This fact is rarely mentioned when EWA companies lobby state legislatures seeking to be exempted from usury rules that are supposed to curb predatory lenders. In Vermont, Earnin wants an exemption from the state’s 18% interest rate cap — remember, the true APR for EWA loans is about 300%.

In Texas, payday lenders are classed as loan brokers, not loan originators and are thus able to avoid the state’s usury caps. EWAs are lobbying the Texas legislature for further exemptions from state money-transmitter and usury limit laws, principally on the strength of the “it’s different: we do it with a computer” logic.

But as Jarod Facundo writes for The American Prospect, quoting Monica Burks from the Center for Responsible Lending, a loan is a loan even if it’s with a computer: “The industry is trying to create a new definition for what a loan is in order to exempt themselves from existing consumer protection laws… When you offer someone a portion of money on the promise that they will repay it, and often that repayment will be accompanied with fees or charges or interest, that’s what a loan is.”

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Mountain View, Berkeley, Portland, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A stately, columnated bank building, bedecked in garish payday lender signs.]

Image: Andre Carrotflower (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:30_North_%28former_Pontiac_Commercial_%26_Savings_Bank_Building%29,_Pontiac,_Michigan_-_entrance_and_Chief_Pontiac_relief_sculpture_-_20201213.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #cfpb #earned wage access #digital armbreakers #loansharks #payday lenders #tech exceptionalism #jubilee #debt #fintech #usury #michael hudson #graeber #debts that can't be paid wont be paid

[kamii-2]

can i anon myself?👾 also more kk arnold fics she or ice brady get enough attention

-👾

yes you can!! and i agree they both barely get any love

warning(s): cussing

genre: fluff

pairing(s): kk arnold x fem!reader

not proofread 🗣️

==================================

it was 11:07 at night and you and kk were just laying in your bed. you were scrolling on instagram and kk was on tiktok, you both couldn’t fall asleep.

kk shut her phone off and turned to you, “baby i’m bored.” you looked at her and sighed. “me too.” suddenly kk shot up. “we should go get something to eat or go to the store.” she suggested, you thought for a second and got up with her. “we should.”

-

you guys got ready then went to walmart because it was the only store open. you guys walked in and went to the bike section and started riding bikes around the aisle like idiots. kk lost control of the bike and crashed into the bike racks and flew off, it was so loud you guys thought you were gonna get kicked out so you put the bike back and ran to the frozen food section.

“y/n look! they have trufru.” kk exclaimed while opening the freezer, grabbing like 5 bags of strawberry. “it’s like 10 dollars per bag, so i hope you brought your wallet.” you looked at her with a concerned expression.

you bent over a little to look at the other flavors and kk slapped the hell out of your ass. you shot up and spun around, “kamorea.” you jokingly warned her. “i didn’t do anything.”she smiled with her hands up in defense.

-

after you guys left walmart you went to mcdonald’s. you got fries and a spicy ass sprite, kk got the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead. you guys went back to your apartment and sat in your room and ate you fries and talked.

when you guys finished, kk put her head on your thighs and watched tiktok, you rubbed her cheek while doing the same. “y/n.” she said while looking up at you. “yea?” you replied and looked down, “i’m tired.” you giggled at this and moved her off of your thighs. “me too.” she moved around and laid on the pillow, pulling you to her. you laid your head on you arm that was extended for you to lay on, she wrapped her arms around you and put her head on your chest, breathing in your scent. “goodnight baby, i love you.” she says softly, “goodnight, love you too.” you said back while giving her a kiss on her cheek.

==================================

so sorry it’s short!! anyway i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

#uconn wbb #uconn huskies #kk arnold x reader #kk arnold #fluff #👾 anon

[hobiebrownismygod]

VENOM - Part 2

Venom!Hobie x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Having a symbiote is a canon event...which means Hobie must've had one of his own at one point, right?

~2.7k words

TW: Blood, Cannibalism, Cursing

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @s6onder @@d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @fiepige (concept credits!!)

(concept art belongs to @levionok!!)

prev|next

___________

Just one week ago, if you had told Hobie Brown that a random object he'd found in an Osborne facility would fix all of his problems, he would've laughed in your face and called you mad. But now he was starting to realize, not only was it possible, but he could now accomplish what he used to think would be impossible.

"Thanks for the help Spider-Man!"

He waved at the random civilian he'd just finished helping before moving on to the next, his oddly enhanced hearing helping him catch the quietest of cries, the muffled yells, aiding him in being the best Spider-Man he could be. Honestly? It felt like magic.

It was like all the stress had just melted from his body. No more muscle pain from all the heavy lifting, no more headaches from not being able to sleep- in fact, he hadn't slept in days. He simply forgot to. And he was feeling great!

He was stronger than usual, faster than usual, smarter than usual...the list continued. He was doing more in less time and getting closer and closer to his goal- defeating Osborne and completely ridding the city of crime.

But there were a few added cons to his new state of being. His head hurt whenever he played his guitar. Well, he could still play it, but some notes just hurt. Sounds he used to consider beautiful now sounded like nails screeching across a chalkboard. Even high-pitched screams from troubled civilians made his head spin.

There was also the restlessness. Hobie had never been able to sit still, but now...it was twice as bad. Just the thought of going back home revolted him. Sitting down? Taking a nap? God no. It would be a waste of time and a waste of energy. He needed to keep moving.

And then there was the hunger. He. Was. Always. Hungry. No matter what he ate, the hunger pangs never stopped. What had been his favorite foods now disgusted him and he found himself eating the most bizarre items. Mounds and mounds of white chocolate (something he used to despise), loads of fries and worst of all, frozen meat. He couldn't understand his new obsession with frozen meat.

But then he found himself shrugging it off and moving on, a fistful of frozen chicken pieces in his mouth. After all, the pros outweighed the cons, right?

But you...you were fairly put-off by this new development.

"Can you stop eating all my food?" You asked him angrily, telling him off for what must've been the fourth time this week. He shrugged sheepishly as he took a bite out of one of the apples on the counter and spit it out. "Sorry. 'm just hungry" he muttered, wiping his mouth as he opened the fridge back up.

You tossed the apple in the trash behind you, standing across from him with your arms folded over your chest. You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "You know, Hobes-" You started, trying to keep your tone as soft as possible. "-ever since you came back from that facility, you've been acting...off."

"Off how?" He asked casually, barely paying any attention to you as he grabbed a yogurt. "Well you've been-" you let out a yelp as yogurt splattered all over you and him, his eyes widening in realization. "Whoops." He mumbled.

"WHOOPS?"

In an attempt to open the yogurt, he'd accidentally caused it to explode all over the kitchen, having squeezed it too hard. "Forgot m' own strength." He said with a quiet chuckle, tossing the mangled container into the trash before moving to the sink to wash his hands.

You watched him in shock. How was he so...normal about this?

He must've caught your expression because he turned around with an eyebrow raised. "Wha's wrong?"

You scoffed, still in shock. "What's wrong?" You repeated, hands falling to your hips. "What's wrong is that you've been acting absolutely insane these past few days!" you marched up to him, pointing your finger in his face. "Not sleeping, not sitting still, eating like a damn dinosaur-" his eyes widened "-not knowing your own strength-" he looked to the side. He must've heard something again "-acting like you're on top of the world and-and-what the hell are you looking for?" You exclaimed, exasperated as he looked around confusedly.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

He jumped, head turning around wildly. "That! That voice!"

"I don't hear anything, Hobes." you said tiredly, putting a hand on your head and leaning back against the counter. "I think you need to take a break. Something's going on with you-"

"How can you not hear that?" He whispered desperately, eyes wide.

"Are you sure it's not just the voice in your head?" You asked sarcastically.

"No, no, it's saying something-" he gasped softly, putting his hands on both sides of his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "It's saying it's hungry. It's asking for...food?"

"Oh my god-" You said annoyedly, shaking your head in frustration.

"I'm telling you the truth, love, really-"

"You're insane! That thing did something to you, Hobes-!"

"DON'T CALL US A THING."

You stopped. He stared at you, chest heaving up and down as he slowly calmed himself, putting his hands on top of his head while he struggled to catch his breath. "Fuck." He mumbled. He looked back at you, realizing he must've scared you. "Hey, don't look at me like tha-"

"Get out."

His eyes widened. "What?" he asked softly. He felt horrible now. He hadn't meant to get so aggressive and he definitely didn't mean to scare you. He just felt so...angry. It was an odd, yet somewhat powerful feeling. Like he could do anything. Like he would do anything.

"You want me to leave?" he asked, dumbstruck. "Seriously? What happened to you being here for me?"

"Just go." You choked out, pointing towards the door.

He opened his mouth, about to say something, when that voice came again.

You Don't Need Her.

For a moment, he wanted to defy that voice, to not let it control him, but alas...it was just so convincing. His expression turned coldly sour. He scoffed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his vest and walking right past you. "You'll regret this." he said quietly, walking out and shutting the door behind him with a slam. You glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of him pulling his mask on and swinging away.

Instead of using his normal, white webs, he was using black ones. You'd never seen them before. What was going on?

Hobie swung away in frustration, muttering nothings under his breath, not paying attention to the world below him. He didn't even realize that he'd run out of his own webs ages ago and was now using different ones. Ones that his body was somehow creating by itself, without web shooters. That wasn't possible...right?

Whatever. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. His best friend had just kicked him out for no reason. Why would anything still matter?

What had he even done wrong? He was just being himself. It's not like he killed someone.

Why did you have to be so dramatic? Why did you have to be so dramatic about the-the-what was it called?

A Symbiote.

Right.

Whatever. Symbiote, then. It was helping him, wasn't it? Helping him be a better Spider-man. Helping him do better things? What was your problem with it? You were just jealous.

These were the thoughts running through Hobie's mind as he swung to nowhere, just trying to release the tension from his body. This, along with one other thought.

Food.

Of course. He was still hungry after all. The eyes of his mask narrowed as he looked around. Where was he going to find something to eat?

"Hands above your head you filthy scum."

Hobie stopped swinging, sticking onto the glass of a tall building as he looked around, searching for where that voice had come from.

"Please, I didn't do anything. I'm just trying to go home, I have a wife-"

Hobie heard the clicking of a gun. He jumped towards the noise, staying hidden as he approached a darker alleyway, wedged between two boring buildings. Standing in the alleyway was someone with a badge, gun in his hand as he pointed it at a young man holding a bag.

"What's in the bag? Stolen goods? Weapons?" The cop asked, shoving his gun in the man's face threateningly. "I-I needed food." The man said quickly, eyes widening in fear. He opened his bag, revealing nothing more than some groceries. "We're starving, please-"

"Fucking punk." the badged man spat, pressing the gun to his victim's temple. "Actions have consequences." The young man squeezed his eyes shut in fear, the bag falling to the ground.

No. Hobie couldn't let this happen.

He lunged at the cop, almost animalistically, knocking him to the ground. He webbed the gun out of his hand, pulling him up aggressively. As Hobie stood up, he grabbed the cop by the throat, tightly choking him. He wasn't able to stop a small smile from forming on his face under the mask.

And then it was like he was engulfed by darkness.

Like the night had somehow swallowed him whole, but left no stars in sight. No light. Only a hole of black nothingness.

The last thing he remembered was a voice. The same one he'd heard earlier. A deep, guttural, alien hiss.

You Look...Deliciousssss...

And then the rest was a blur.

______________________________

How could you have just kicked him out like that?

You were pacing your living room, biting your fingernails out of nervousness while you tried to calm yourself down. There was something wrong with Hobie, that much was obvious, but kicking him out was too far.

What if he got hurt?

What if he got someone else hurt?

But it wasn't even about Hobie anymore. It was about whatever that thing that he'd found was.

Us he'd called it. Don't call us thing.

Who was us?

You pulled out your computer, the file already open. Ever since he'd gotten back, you'd been trying to crack the code. Trying to figure out what was inside that flash drive he'd stolen. What this thing was.

You hadn't told Hobie about your efforts of course. You suspected he wouldn't take it well and after seeing his reaction today, you definitely weren't going to be telling him anything.

And you definitely weren't going to be telling him that you sent his superhero friend a message asking her to help you decrypt the code just a few days ago.

Riri Williams was a genius, and although the two of you weren't close, you knew her because of the fact that she and Hobie worked together. Normally, you'd be embarrassed to ask someone to help you decode something, but Riri was very kind about it, not even asking you why you didn't want Hobie to know.

You trusted her to keep it from him. And today, she had finally sent you her finished product.

"Hopefully this works. Lmk if you need help with your spidey problems :P"

She'd attached a note. How sweet.

Smiling at the note, you clicked out of it and copy pasted the decryption code into your computer terminal. The computer flashed, but then the file opened. You stared at it for a moment, confusion settling over your face.

All the file contained was a single, eight minute long video.

Hesitantly, you clicked on it, and a page opened up, a young man's tired face taking over your screen.

"Take 17. This is Otto Octavius, head scientist of Team #6's V.E.N.O.M. symbiote trials." the man gave the camera a half-hearted smile. "The subject volunteer of this video is unnamed."

You sat back slightly, folding your arms over your chest as you made yourself comfortable. "Subject Zero is in captivity. It seems to be showing signs of aggression." The man turned the camera to face a large glass cell, inside of which was what seemed to be...a glob.

Was this what Hobie was talking about?

You flinched back as the glob jumped at the glass. The scientist in the video flinched as well and set the camera down with a distasteful look on his face. "Bring in the volunteer." he called out.

You watched in horror as a half-conscious elderly man was shoved into the glass cell. The man looked around confusedly, before he let out a shriek of fear. You were barely able to make out his fists, banging on the hard glass, as the symbiote climbed up him and melted into his body, sending him to the floor, convulsing ferociously.

The young scientist simply turned the camera away, shaking his head in annoyance. "Test failure." before he could move to turn off the video, another person's voice piped up in the background.

"Mr. Octavius?"

"...yes?"

"What exactly are we waiting for the symbiote to accomplish?" the voice was coming from a young woman with a lab coat and a wide-eyed expression on her face.

"The symbiote-" the scientist sighed "-is looking for a host. And once it finds a host, we believe it'll become more powerful than the derived V.E.N.O.M. serum. This power...its unimaginable. But the symbiote is very...picky, for lack of a better word." The man looked back at the screen, and then moved his finger towards it. The video turned off.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, your heart racing.

A host?

"No..." you whispered under your breath as realization hit you.

The symbiote had found it's host.

Hobie.

____________________________

What the-

Hobie looked around groggily, coming back to his senses.

What happened?

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the alleyway which he barely remembered. He was still...there? That hungry feeling he'd had before had disappeared. Strange. Clutching his forehead in confusion he looked around.

A bag was on the floor in front of him, half-open with food packets and vegetables flowing out of it onto the dirty pavement. A little ahead of the bag was a badge. As he squinted his eyes slightly, it seemed to look like the same badge the cop from earlier was wearing.

Wait...what happened to the cop from earlier?

Hobie could barely remember...lunging at him. Grabbing him by the throat. A hiss of a voice had flooded his senses and then...

Darkness.

As he moved to reach towards the badge he stopped, breath hitching in his throat. He pulled his hand back towards him, shaky breaths escaping his lips as he fought to process what was in front of him.

His hand was covered in blood.

And so was the rest of him.

He could barely breathe, feeling panic settling in his chest. He stood up straight and stumbled back slightly as he stared at the blood dripping from his black suit- wait...black? Since when did he wear a black suit?

"What in the bloody-"

A glint caught his eye. The glint of a pistol, twisted in half, lying next to a body. A body covered in the same crimson red that was trickling down Hobie's arms and neck and mouth-

Mouth.

Why the hell was there blood on his mouth?

"No...no...no no no no no-" Hobie started to whisper, feeling as though his knees would give out any moment, the dread settling deep in the pits of his stomach and sending shivers of fear and guilt down his spine.

He'd...

Eaten someone.

Taking a few steps forward, he collapsed in front of the body, looking over it in shock. Missing an arm, a leg, a head.

Memories flooded his brain.

The voice had called the man...delicious.

That voice...

More.

Hobie jumped. He looked around furiously, fists in front of him. "Show yourself!" He called out, anger running through his veins and adding to his tone.

We want more. We need more.

He grabbed at the top of his newly black mask, crying out in frustration. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD." he yelled, punching at the air, raging, fists flying and kicks landing on solid nothing.

He fell to the ground, trembling, failing at trying to pull the black off him. "What do you want from me?" he quietly whispered, a lump forming in the back of his throat.

There is no me. Only...

Us.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #miles morales #beyond the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv hobie #across the spider verse #hobie fluff #astv hobie #hobie brown headcanons #hobie my beloved #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spiderverse hobie #astv #spider punk #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x female reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #atsv spider punk #spider punk x fem!reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spiderpunk x y/n

[esamastation]

Part forty-six of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five

-

Observation log, 11th of October, 12:00

07:05 Sephiroth wakes up.

07:34 Sephiroth eats a breakfast of porridge, canned apples and orange juice. Meal detailed in attachment E.

07:57 Sephiroth begins preparing for Energy Alignment with warmups and stretches, detailed in full in attachment D.

08:15 Sephiroth begins sword practice.

08:42 Sephiroth begins Energy Alignment. Energy output matches previous sessions visually. Movements and forms same as ones detailed in attachment C.

20:15 Sephiroth finishes sword forms and moves onto meditation. Visual concentration of light and energy in his cupped palms, no indication as to its nature or purpose, but likely a progression of Energy Alignment.

22:32 Sephiroth finishes Energy Alignment and begins preparations for bed.

Observation notes: Sephiroth only ate one meal today, with nowhere near enough kilojoules to support the level of physical activity he is practising - nor is he drinking enough water. Sephiroth shows no visual sign of exhaustion, starvation, or dehydration. Will continue to observe.

Addendum to observation log for the 11th of October: checking perimeter showed no sign of local activity. Angeal Hewley ventured out at 11:27 to hunt monsters and returned at 15:56. Reno is getting agitated.

End log for the 11th of October.

Observation log, 12th of October, 12:00

07:20 Sephiroth wakes up.

07:51 Sephiroth eats breakfast of rice, eggs, canned apples and tea. Meal detailed in attachment E.

08:20 Sephiroth begins previously mentioned warmups and stretches. He is joined by Hewley. They move on to a session of Buster Sword Lessons, detailed in attachment F.

09:34 Sephiroth begins going through his usual sword forms. Angeal Hewley moves to train by himself in the inner yard.

10:12 Sephiroth enters the Energy Alignment phase of training. No visual change in forms or energy output. In fact, forms are starting to look like they come in an established pattern.

15:23 Sephiroth finishes sword forms (notably early) and moves onto meditation. No visual concentration of energy observed this time.

15:54 Sephiroth finishes meditation and goes looking for Angeal Hewley, who is, at the time, examining the Charcoal Burner's House's old vegetable garden.

16:00, est. Dialogue:

Sephiroth: "Hey, what are you up to?"

Angeal Hewley: "Just checking to see if there's anything edible here - canned food is going to get really tiresome in the long run. What's up, it's everything alright?"

Sephiroth: "No, no. I'm just - getting a bit lost in my own head."

Hewley: "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sephiroth: "No, I want a bit of - I need a distraction, for a bit."

Hewley: "... Okay? Do you want to go hunt monsters, do you want to spar, or…?"

Sephiroth: "I think if I spent another moment thinking about physical cultivation I might lose it. So. No. Something else."

Hewley: "Uh?"

Sephiroth: "You know when you work on something for so long that it starts losing all meaning? Like, a report, maybe? Stare at it long enough, and it turns into nonsense. I need, you know. A break."

Hewley: "Ah, yeah, okay, I get what you mean. Yeah, I can take a break with you. What do you want to do?"

Sephiroth: "I have no idea. Just something else."

Hewley: "I'm sure we can figure something out."

16:00-18:00 est. Sephiroth and Angeal Hewley proceed to explore the Charcoal Burner's House's abandoned stores and discover an old, broken set of something called Weiqi. Sephiroth proceeds to teach Angeal Hewley how it was played.

18:15 Dialogue

Hewley: "Now, I don't want to sound impatient, but, this energy alignment stuff. How long is it going to take?"

Sephiroth: "Normally decades."

Hewley: "Decades?!"

Sephiroth: "Most of it is just energy gathering, that usually takes most of the time. I don't exactly have that issue. If anything, I have too much."

Hewley: "Oh. Right. Um, then, how long do you think it will take for you to sort it out?"

Sephiroth: "I've gotten things moving. If my veins can take it… maybe another week?"

Hewley: "That's not too bad, though… what do you mean if your veins can take it?"

Sephiroth: "... Have you figured out whether MP resides in your body yet?"

Hewley: "Um, no? I mean, I know it's there and I can sort of feel it there, but it's not really in any specific location."

Sephiroth: "Hm. Keep trying."

Hewley: "Sure, I'll try. I'm not sure what you're after, though."

Sephiroth: "You'll know it when you feel it."

19:12 Sephiroth fills the tub in the back room and has a full bath. 

20:07 Sephiroth eats a dinner of pasta, canned pickles, canned peas, crackers and apple juice. Meal detailed in attachment E.

20:24 Sephiroth turns in early.

Observation notes: Sephiroth ate two full meals and seems to have taken in enough nutrients for his daily requirements. It should be noted, however, that his level of physical activity was greatly diminished today. It should also be noted that between the training session and the later board games he seemed rather distracted. He might be procrastinating on his progress, perhaps having some sort of block? If faster results are desired, it might be advisable to remove Hewley from the situation.

Addendum to observation log for the 12th of October: Reno reports signs of activity in the forest - a smoke trail approximately 15 kilometres away. It is possible that our occupation has been noticed by Wutai troops. We are increasing our level of alert and redoing our traps. Though with two SOLDIER First Class present we have little to fear from any kind of Wutai assault, a surprise attack at an inopportune moment might be disastrous. Reno will be heading out to investigate at first light tomorrow.

End log for the 12th of October.

Observation log, 13th of October, 12:00

07:11 Sephiroth wakes up.

07:36 Sephiroth eats breakfast.

08:02 Sephiroth and Angeal Hewley proceed to meditate together in the main room of the house. Sephiroth is talking through the entire process, guiding Hewley every step of the way. No visual energy fluctuations to observe.

09:12 Sephiroth and Angeal Hewley proceed with sword practice, with Sephiroth instructing. 

10:35 Sephiroth and Hewley separate and Sephiroth proceeds with his sword forms in the usual manner.

10:54 Sephiroth enters the Energy Alignment phase. The forms seem to have settled into an established pattern. No other changes to the overall practice to be observed.

11:30 Reno returns and confirms there's Wutai troops making their way towards our location. With Sephiroth in the Energy Alignment phase, it's deemed unsafe to disturb him with the news. Hewley offers to take care of the enemy troops.

11:43 Hewley sets out to meet the Wutai troops. I will check the perimeter while Reno keeps watch on Sephiroth.

12:11 Perimeter secure, traps primed. Should the worst come to pass and Sephiroth goes into misalignment, we will proceed according to plan.

12:15 Sending the WIP log to Tseng, just in case.

-

Rude's logs are very factual I feel while Reno adds the nuance.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7 #svsss #rude of the turks #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #angeal hewley #reno of the turks

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:07 pm]

(cw: dad!johnny, gn!reader)

“You know I really thought our beach trip would be a weekend trip and not a week long trip at a beachfront hotel,” You sighed, settling down onto the beach towel you had just laid out under a large beach umbrella.

“What my baby wants, my baby gets,” Johnny smiled, pressing a kiss to the fat cheek of your daughter in his arms.

“She can’t talk John,” you rolled your eyes and extended your arms for her, “how did she tell you she wanted to come to the beach anyway?”

You began rubbing sunblock onto your daughters cheeks, cautious of her eyes and mouth, “We were watching tv and she got really excited when she saw the beach on the screen.”

You scoffed playfully, readjusting her bucket hat so her face was completely covered, “Your daddy spoils you, my little love.”

“Daddy spoils you too, now, let’s get my baby girl in the water!” Johnny smiled brightly, scooping up his daughter before he excitedly made his way to the water.

You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as you watched her chubby little legs kick with excitement and heard her faint squeals of happiness.

While you were relaxing in the warm shade and salty breeze, Johnny was busy getting his daughter used to the fresh ocean water that lightly lapped at his feet. He squatted down, holding his daughter beneath her arms and let her feel the water on her feet. She babbled happily, arms waving around while she dug her tiny toes into the wet sand. He sat her down, sitting behind her so she had support, and let her feel the sand in her hands. She loved it, grabbing tiny fistfuls and throwing it around, but he did have to stop her from eating it countless times. Every time a wave would make its way up shore where they sat, her breath would hitch in excitement while she squirmed, readying herself to feel the cool water. It was enough to keep her entertained for at least an hour.

Her hand came down to slap the water, Johnny smiled, hearing her happy baby babbling which was soon interrupted by sudden cry. Johnny checked to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but then he saw it- her hand in her mouth. “Oh, my little love. I know it tastes so yucky doesn’t it?”

He held her to his shoulder, swaying her back and forth as they walked back to where you were sat enjoying the calm beach day. You turned at the sound of your daughter’s cries, reaching for her as Johnny explained what happened. You reached for her water and some of her snacks, hoping that the taste would soon be out of her mouth. “At least she was having fun before she tasted the water,” you laughed lightheartedly, wiping away the streaks of tears from her red cheeks while she drank from her cup of water.

Johnny chuckled with you, “Wait right here.” Then he was dashing off somewhere behind you after he snatched up his wallet from the large tote you had beside you.

You pushed the hair away from your daughter’s face, ticking her to get her to laugh while you held her snack puffs in your palm. You pointed out some dolphins to her in the horizon, repeating the word in the hopes that she would parrot it back, but all you got was her usual baby noises.

In just a few minutes, Johnny returned panting with an armload of different popsicles and ice creams. He fell onto the towel in front of his daughter, startling her before she laughed at the dramatic behavior of her dad. He held up each package he bought, opening the first one that the baby reached for, a strawberry popsicle wrapped in bright yellow and pink, of course.

They shared bites of the cold treat, leaving you to have your pick of the leftovers. You all ate quietly, enjoying the sound of the crashing waves on the shore and other families enjoying the beach as well. You occasionally heard a soft ‘ahhhh’ as Johnny moved to feed your daughter again or a hum of approval from the baby sat between your outstretched legs.

“All done, little love. Did you like it?” Johnny asks the baby, pressing a kiss to her forehead while he wipes away the remaining red syrup around her mouth.

“We brought her food, it’s in the bag,” you tell Johnny, watching your daughter rub at her eyes with a closed fist.

You pulled her into your arms rocking her back and forth to lull her to sleep, “I didn’t want her fun time at the beach to be ruined by one bad moment. I had to make it up for my baby girl.”

“I would sure hope not, we've got 5 days left here. You spoil her John,” you sigh, tearing your eyes away from the waves to make eye contact with your husband who was still laying in front of you.

He laughed loudly, quickly muffling his laugh when you gave him a stern look, “Says you. Remind me again, was it you or me who had to go out and buy our daughter, who has never been in a body of water outside the bathtub, six new bathing suits?”

You averted your gaze to your daughter peacefully asleep in your arms, long eyelashes brushing the tops of her chubby cheeks. “Fine, we both spoil her.”

“And I spoil you both, you deserve it, my love.”

“We love you John, now let’s get little love out of her wet clothes,” you smiled softly, leaning forward to kiss Johnny gently before you stood up and grabbed your tote.

Johnny shook out the beach towel and followed behind you, “Maybe tomorrow she can try floating in the water, I got her some floaties.”

“Not happening John.” You told him in a voice that told him you were not to be argued with. Yeah, no floating for little love after all.

+BONUS

priv.suhjohnny

Liked by y/nsuh, priv.leemark, priv_ttyong, and 122 others

priv.suhjohnny it was all fun and games until little love tasted the water

leedonghyuck_priv i miss little love😭😭

y/nsuh we miss you hyuck

priv.leemark look at those tiny toes🥺🥰

priv.suhjohnny bro please keep that weird shit to yourself✋

jjaehyun.private Mark😳

leedonghyuck_priv bro…

priv_moon_taeil bro…

y/nsuh bro…

priv.leemark Y/N NOT YOU TOO😫

-

A/N: did you guys like the ig post at the end? this one was really fun to write, enjoy!

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny fluff #johnny blurb #johnny timestamps #johnny scenarios

[sswiftiestars]

seductions—chapter one

gf! sam monroe x fem!reader

tws/cws: mentions of murder, angsty, mentions of ED and self harm, vomiting, manipulation, swearing, y/n isnt used i think, petnames, kinda sexual at the end, non-con kinda but not really

summary: When you find out one of your best friends was murdered by the neighborhood serial killer, you head to school sad. Struggling to stay sane, you end up experiencing something unexpected.

You sob into your pillow as you read the local newspaper, reading; WEDNESDAY 5/07/03: WESTON HIGH SCHOOL TEEN NAMED MARY LOUISE FOUND DEAD AT 17, KILLED IN HER OWN HOME AFTER A MYSTERIOUS PHONE CALL.

it showed a picture of her, making everything 10x worse. she was your best friend, and there she was, dead and buried. you continued to sob into your pillow when you realized you had to get to school. how would you be able to survive after this? you sniffle a few times and put on a pink cardigan with a mini skirt, thigh highs and some cute sneakers. Sadly, you put on your backpack (which was baby pink, obviously) and head out the door without eating.

once you arrive to school, you don’t put any effort into talking to anyone, and you make your way to the auditorium, where a assembly will be taken place on..recent events. you sit down at a empty area when after a few minutes, someone taps your shoulder from the seat behind you. you turn around and see Sam, one of your closest friends.

“are you okay, angel? you ignored me when i tried to come up to you earlier.” he says sadly, giving you a soft pout of disappointment. You shrug, visibly less energetic then usual. “m’ fine, sam. it’s just..” you start, tears threatening to leave your eyes, “you know.” you say, looking away from him. sam sighs and climbs over and sits in the seat next to you, ignoring that he just accidentally kicked someone in the leg. “listen, angel.” sam coos, grasping his hand at your chin and turns your head to look at him directly, “I’m sorry about what happened to mary, but..eveything happens for a reason, right?” he says, trying to comfort you, but ending up sounding slightly sadistic.

you squint your eyes at him, about to speak when the principal talks into the microphone at the auditorium stage, peaking you and sam’s attention. “Good morning, everyone.” he starts, his voice echoing through the room. “i would just like to take a moment and..talk about recent events.” he says. you already know he’ll be talking about mary, corey, and some of the other students who have been lost. you don’t want to hear about it anymore, it just adds on to the indescribable feeling in your chest.

Sam somehow senses you discomfort, and reaches over to hold your hand, carressing your palm with his thumb. you blush slightly. “Mary was a great friend to all of you.” the principal says solemnly, “she will not be forgotten.” behind you, you hear two of the jocks, logan and aiden, snickering. you turn your head around and glare at them, and sam does the same. something about sam’s stare at them was..unsettling. the two jocks immediately stopped laughing, sam’s unsettling stare scaring the shit out of them, to say the least.

sam will definitely be remembering them, for later.

The principal continues talking about mary, and then sam leans over to whisper to you, “i’ll be right back, sunshine. stay here f’ me.” you nod in response and watch as he walks out of the auditorium. assuming he’s just going to the bathroom, you continue listening to the principals speech about mary and corey. the more he talks, the more sad you get, and the more angry you get at the person who killed them so brutally. After a while, you notice that sam is still gone. a pit in your stomach starts to form, as you start to get extremely anxious. Carefully, you stand up and walk out of the auditorium. you make your way to the girls bathroom. You walk into a stall and lock the door. Suddenly, a wave of nausea waves over you. “when was the last time i ate?” you think to yourself. your thoughts are cut short when you suddenly bend over the toilet and vomit, you really should’ve ate breakfast. after a couple minutes of..intense sickness, you flush the toilet and walk out of the stall. You try not to cry as you walk to the sink, and wash your hands and wash your face, hoping to make yourself feel better. as you raise your head, you see something in the mirror behind you.

a hooded figure in a mask.

you ignore it at first, thinking you might be hallucinating from all of the pills you’ve been taking. But that’s when you hear a metal sound from behind you. You turn around instantly, water still dripping from your face and hands.

He…or she..or they, wave at you, knife in hand. you instinctively run towards the door and try to open it.

of course it’s fucking closed.

“fuck.” you say under your breath and turn back around, and the masked figure..doesn’t run towards you? he walks closer to you as you stand there, paralyzed in fear. before you know it, he pins you against the cold wall of the bathroom, and whispers in your ear, “stay quiet or you’ll end up like your good friend mary.” you gasp, trying to recognize his voice, but his voice is awfully distorted. fuck, is he using a voice changer?

you nod. he runs his gloved hand down your body until he reaches underneath your skirt. You feel your underwear dampen, and you curse yourself silently for that. the masked stranger cups your core through your panties, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. He pulls his hand away, a smirk underneath his mask that you wish you could see are glad you can’t see. he walks out of the bathroom after that, leaving you confused and still aroused.

did the neighborhood serial killer just touch my pussy?you think to yourself and let out a slight cackle, even though it’s not that funny. unable to leave your position, you stand there, wondering what to do. you’re definitely traumatized for sure—but at least it felt good. after what seemed like forever, you walk back to the auditorium and sit down next to sam and let out a sigh. at least he’s okay.

“hey, what took you so long?” sam smirks and nudges you playfully. you shrug, “i felt sick, it’s nothing really.”

“Good thing you’re still alive, i was worried that someone snuck in there.” he jokes, although his tone is a bit sinister. you laugh it off nervously, and listen to the principals incredibly long speech for the next hour.

in that hour, you find yourself thinking about what happened, something inside of you wishing the masked stranger did more with you. You brushed off the thought, sighing to yourself.

maybe someday you’ll lose your virginity, and today was almost the day.

tags: @g4sstationdr-gs , ask if u wanna b added!

#Spotify #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars smut #anakin smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe #ghostface sam

[hannahlovesluca]

Dear Diary,

ver - Shu Yamino

12/12/21

Dear Diary, i met a boy today. he was pretty, he said his name was Shu.

he told me i looked beautiful, he told me i was beyond beauty standards.

i think i love him.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

12/15/21

Dear Diary, mother and father were fighting again tonight. Shu came by, though. He bought me dinner and comforted me. He smells like cedar wood.

I think he might love me, too.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

12/17/21

Dear Diary, Shu gave me his coat today. I was shivering and he told me that his fire kept him warm.

Mother and father weren’t fighting when I got home. I ate spaghetti.

Went to bed happy.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

12/21/21

Dear Diary, felt weird chest pain today.

Shu told me it was probably due to the cold. Then, he lended me another jacket.

Shu cooked me dinner tonight, slept at his place. Bed was warm.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

1/05/22

Dear Diary, Shu told me a funny joke. I laughed so hard that i choked on my meatball. He had to give me the heimlich maneuver.

It was very embarrassing.

He told me things about his family. His dad is an ass.

Shu sang me to sleep.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

1/10/22

Dear Diary, chest pain came back. Brushed it off as the cold again.

Shu said that his mom wanted us to get together. I blushed.

We cuddled in bed.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

1/15/22

Dear Diary, Shu confessed to me today.

I said yes.

Boyfriend?

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

1/29/22

Dear Diary, lost my virginity today. It kind of tickled. Is that normal?

Shu said that it was because it was my first time.

He kept cracking jokes during our time.

We also planned a trip to Australia to visit his friend.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

2/02/22

Dear Diary, me and Shu are in Australia.

Luca is hyper, but nice. I like him.

Luca told me he liked my eyes, Shu agreed.

I blushed.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

2/07/22

Dear Diary, felt tired today. Slept all day.

Luca said I was hibernating.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

2/27/22

Dear Diary, met new friends today. Uki said he was going to steal my man.

I laughed.

I like Uki.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

3/01/22

Dear Diary, felt extra tired. Slept all day again.

Shu said if I slept anymore I’d probably fall into a coma.

We laughed and ate ice cream next to the fireplace.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

3/12/22

Dear Diary, studied with Shu. He helped with math.

He also taught me how to start a car with a penny.

Maybe I can commit Grand Theft Auto.

For legal reasons, that was a joke.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

3/19/22

Dear Diary, Shu caught me staring at him.

It was very embarrassing.

He said he stares at me, too.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

3/29/22

Dear Diary, slept again today.

Feeling very unmotivated.

Me and Uki FaceTimed almost all night.

Slept in Shu’s hoodie.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

4/10/22

Dear Diary, got sent to hospital.

Shu and Uki visited me.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

4/29/22

Diagnosed with cancer.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

6/17/22

Dear Diary, first Chemo Therapy today. I don’t want my hair to fall out.

Shu said if it does, he would help me shave.

Shu has been supportive.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

7/02/22

Dear Diary, head was shaved today.

Don’t think Chemo is working.

feel very frail.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

7/20/22

Dear Diary, I have lost over 45 pounds.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

8/09/22

Dear Diary, Shu cried while holding my hand in the hospital.

He doesn’t think I’m making it.

Neither do I.

……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….

8/09/23

Tear-drops escape Shu’s eyes, he slowly closes your diary.

#luca kaneshiro #ike eveland #luxiem #luxiem x reader #shu yamino #mysta rias #vox akuma #nijisanji en #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #angst #nijisanji angst

[cherry1sblog]

It’s the way I love you that hurts

Materialist

SUMMARY

Y/n who has a crush on her brothers best friend sunghoon and her aunt is the head minister of dark moon college her crush on her brothers best freind stays although he has a gf who’s a bitch but he can’t get what happened this summer with y/n out of his mind and neither can she….

PAIRING : SUNGHOON X Y/N

GENRE: Collage!AU,Social Media!AU,Brothers bestfreind!AU,fluff,smut,mentions of suicide and abuse

STARTED: 23/10/23

Ended:???

STATUS: ONGOING

———————————————————————————

PROFILES: N/A

———————————————————————————

CHAPTERS:

01- CODE RED

02- SHES BACK

03- SUNOO ATE JAKES BROWNIES

04- S.O.S

05- JAKES LITTLE SISTER

06-

07-

08-

09-

10-

#enhypen #enhypen smut #cherry1sblogs #fanfic #jungwon #jungwon smut #kpop smut #sunoo #sunghoon #jake sim #sunoo fluff #sunoo x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon au #sunghoon park #sunghoon fluff #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard hours #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon enha #sunghoon icons #sunghoon imagines

[trulybetty]

dec' 07 x joy

Prompt: joy Pairing: frankie x reader (maverick) Word Count: 706 Warnings: mentions of the seventh circle of hell that is corporate year-end events Summary: the year-end Christmas party would be a whole lot more enjoyable with company. Frankie has been deployed, meaning your plans for the night have had to change. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

The music was loud, the food uninspiring and the speeches had dragged out longer than they needed. There were also not enough drink tickets in your hand to compensate for an evening of your own time spent at this work event. It was the same every year. Everyone shuffled into the same conference center, slapped a name badge on, made small talk, ate bad food and listened to the VP talk about himself on stage all night. You were also certain the black and gold decor predated your on-boarding to the company which was— well, now more years ago than you cared to count. 

The one highlight of the night though had been your time spent getting ready, taking joy in the purchase of a new outfit that glittered against the festive lights that decorated the room. You’d even splashed out for a room at the upmarket hotel next door. Which now felt a little gratuitous given it was just you who was going to be staying in it. 

Originally you’d posed the invitation to Frankie, feeling foolish at the idea of asking him to come with you. It’s not like you were a couple. Despite him coming up to Seattle at that point almost every weekend from McChord. But when he’d said yes to your plus one you’d been overjoyed and the outfit you’d picked out while shopping with Cat weeks ago had him specifically in mind. 

But it wasn’t meant to be. Last week he’d had only the time to send you a quick message, short and to the point:

Being deployed, gone for the next week, sorry - F 

Which meant he was no longer going to be able to attend your work’s end-of-year celebrations. His absence, though understood, left a hollow feeling that had taken you by surprise. You and Frankie weren’t supposed to be a thing - but you were fast finding yourself fighting more often with the feelings you swore you didn’t have.

As you stood there, half-heartedly sipping your drink and scanning the room, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, a warm breath tickled your ear, and a deep, familiar voice sent shivers down your spine, “Miss me?”

Startled, you spun around to find Frankie standing there, looking unapologetically handsome in a navy suit, one that you had no idea he even owned. Not only that, but the top buttons undone of the crisp white button-up shirt, which you suspected was brand new, showed off a flash of skin. The sight of him took your breath away. He had an apologetic, yet mischievous smile on his face, clearly aware of the surprise he had just given you.

“Frankie! But how? You said you were deployed…” Your voice trailed off as you continued to take him in, still in disbelief that he was there in front of you.

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Let’s just say we managed to pull a few strings to avoid the formalities of post-deployment,” he dropped a soft kiss to your lips before he gave you an appreciative once over, “Plus I couldn’t miss seeing you in this outfit after hearing so much about it the last week.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the background noise of the party. “Well, I’m certainly glad you did. This evening just got a whole lot better.”

Frankie's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and you felt a warmth spread through you. It was amazing how his mere presence could change everything.

“You look amazing, by the way,” he added, his tone sincere as his fingers threaded with yours, giving your hand a tender squeeze. “I mean, you always do, but tonight is something else.”

You felt a heat creep up your cheeks at his compliment. “Thank you. You clean up pretty nicely yourself,” you teased, noting the absence of a tie. “No tie?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t find one to borrow on base. This look okay?” he asked, his voice suddenly losing its confidence in concern he might have slipped up on the dress code by not finding a tie.

“More than okay,” you assured him, your heart skipping a beat.

#december x 500 #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #jfrankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction