#i want sweet shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

Text

Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.

It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.

Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.

There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.

Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?

There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)

When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.

It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.

Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.

He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.

Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.

Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.

“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”

“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”

“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”

“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”

Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”

“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.

“Okay, then walk me through it.”

“What?”

“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”

“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”

“Because you’re scared.”

Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”

“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.

“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”

Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.

“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”

“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”

Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.

Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.

Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.

Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.

Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.

Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.

He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.

Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.

He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.

Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.

“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”

“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.

“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”

In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.

“How did you—”

Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”

Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.

“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?

“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?

“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”

Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.

“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”

So, so much.

#steve harrignton #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #stranger things #st4 fanfic #i've had SUCH a shit and busy month. i'm using them to heal myself lol #i wanted to make them so pathetically in love i accidentally made my eyes fall out of my skull bc of the cheesiness #proposal au #hehe #short and sweet #excuse me if i got too silly. my hand slipped

4K notes · View notes

humhowellujah · 3 months

Text

i'm drunk off two lavender martinis what the fuck do you MEAN dan and phil went on a step by step recreation of their japan trip as a part of a HONEYMOON episode for their sims. be so fr rn be so serious please. dan howell you have 4 minutes to respond . phil, keep it up babygirl. lavender martini recipe in the tags

#2 oz vanilla vodka (i used pearl bc its cheap and good)#1 oz lemon juice #1 oz lavender syrup (1 part sugar 1 part 1 water in a sauce pan #healthy coating of EDIBLE!!!! lavender to cover the top #bring to boil then reduce to a simmer for 5 mins #take off heat and let that shit steep for a bit #longer the better #i say 25 mins at the LEAST for a strong flavor #15 mins will do the job tho probs #filter out the lavender w a siv #add 3 drops each of blue/red food dye to make it purple if u want #garnish w a lemon #i bartend at a restaurant and this is one of our signature cocktails #i was iffy about lavender cocktails/lattes n shit before #but this drink changed me. the perfect balance of lavender notes and sweet/citrus #dan and phil #daniel howell #phil lester #amazingphil #dan and phil games #dnp #dnpgames #dipnpip #danisnotonfire #do people still use that tag #whatever. its there #danandphilgames #<3 #i love them so much #they are my birth mothers

530 notes · View notes

thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

Text

Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.

He's not.

They're just... he happened to notice them, once, when Eddie was listening to Dustin talk through how he might want to make his first DM campaign play out.

Steve wasn't even really paying attention at first, just reading some comic he'd found lying in Eddie's room. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen it. Movement.

Eddie and Dustin were sitting at the small kitchen table, Dustin talking about puzzles and traps and monsters and Eddie was smiling, nodding encouragingly, looking more and more exicted. But it wasn't the movement of his head that drew Steve's attention.

It was his hands.

They were resting on the sides of his legs, tapping.

Steve could only see one hand really, but he could see Eddie's other arm jumping the same way, his hands moving faster and faster the more excited he got, until they were just hovering near his legs, flapping in the air beside him as he smiled widely at Dustin. He suggested a few things, to Dustin, Steve's pretty sure that's what he was saying anyway, his ears weren't great anymore if he wasn't focused, and right now, all of his focus was on Eddie's hands.

Dustin slapped his hand on the table, pointed at Eddie and then started scribbling as Eddie laughed, Steve always managed to hear Eddie's laugh, his hands flapping harder, slapping at his thighs.

Steve vaguely hears his name, cocks his head to the side, but doesn't respond, his eyes still locked on Eddie's flapping hands, and then they stop moving. Both of them freezing, the one Steve can see clamps down on Eddie's thigh, fingers pressing into his jeans.

Steve blinks. Tears his eyes away. Looks at Eddie.

He's staring at Steve, his cheeks tinted pink. Steve swallows, gives him a little smile before Dustin has his attention, chatting at him about what he and Eddie had just come up with.

Steve hears about half of it. Nodding when he thinks he should, trying his best to sound interested. It's enough for Dustin. The barely there commitment. And usually Steve is better at engaging with him, even though he has no clue what he's talking about.

But he's distracted. His eyes keep wandering to Eddie's hands. But they don't move again the whole time he's there, Eddie's knuckles turn white as Steve's eyes linger on his hand. His fingers still pressing into his thigh, they drum a quick beat here and there, but his hands don't move.

Steve sighs, drags his eyes away, and tries to keep them off Eddie. Somehow feeling like Eddie is embarrassed, or upset, that Steve had seen... whatever it was he'd seen.

~°~

It keeps happening.

Eddie's flapping hands.

Steve's eyes on them.

But he's careful now. He doesn't stare. Just steals glances when the movements draw his eye. And Eddie always has his hands under tables, or tucked close to his sides, when it happens. Like he's trying to hide it.

Steve doesn't understand why. He likes it. Every time he sees Eddie's hands moving excitedly it makes his chest flutter. Like he's so happy that Eddie's happy it just fills him with warmth.

But it happens other times too.

Not only when he's happy.

It happens when he's nervous.

Happens when he's scared.

The movements are more erratic when he's nervous or scared. His hands flap, shake, clench, and unclench at his sides.

Every time, Steve wants to reach out and touch. To take his hands, hold them in his and tell him he's okay. That whatever it is. Steve will help.

But he hides it. Behind distracting smiles, and under tables, and behind his back, sometimes. But Steve sees him, watches him, and he wants.

Wants to ask. Wants to touch. Wants to be touched.

Wants to feel Eddie's shaking, flapping, hands against him. Wants to be the reason they flap happily at his sides sometimes. Wants to feel them flap happily against his sides. Wonders if Eddie would do that against his back if he kissed him.

Or if he'd do it lying underneath Steve, clutching at his shirt before his hands just taptaptaptapped against his back as Steve pressed him into his matress.

Or maybe he'd hold Eddie's hands, up above his head. Feel his fingers tapping against his hands as Steve kissed him, nice and slow. Eddie would just tap faster, if he was happy, if he wanted that, with Steve.

Steve sighed, deeply, and glanced at Eddie's hands, his left one resting in his lap, thumb twisting at his ring. His right one, hanging down by his leg, shaking happily as he listened to Will and Dustin make plans for their new campaign, and wished he could reach out and touch him. Even just settle his hand against Eddie's, just to feel the joy shake out of his body.

~°~

The first time Steve reaches out and takes Eddie's shaking hand, is at the summer carnival.

It's hot. And crowded. And loud. And they're waiting in line for some ride the kids want to drag them on. People laughing and screaming and crowding around, jostling them and bumping their shoulders.

And Eddie had gone quiet about five minutes ago. Steve keeps glancing down, watching his hands. It takes three more minutes. But they start to shake, flapping at his sides before he grabs at his jeans, wipes his palms, lets them shake again.

Steve leans forward, tells Dustin they'll be over by the benches, and he grabs Eddie's hand, gently slides his hand into Eddie's. Eddie looks at him, blinking rapidly.

"You wanna come with me? Get outta here?" Steve asks, jerks his head to the side. Eddie nods immediately, his fingers clamping down on Steve's hand, hard. But Steve doesn't care, because Eddie's hand shakes, just once or twice, and then it stops. And his hand is warm, and strong, inside Steve's as he leads them to the benches and sits Eddie down.

He gives him a drink of his lemon shake up, snorts when Eddie makes a face at the sour taste, and then sits next to him.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths, his eyes closed. He takes his hand out of Steve's, leaving him aching for his touch. Steve just lets him go, rests his hand in his lap instead.

"Thanks." Eddie sighs, after a long moment, his eyes finally opening, they don't land on Steve. Stay locked on his lap.

"Anytime." He says, and he means it. Deep in his chest he means it, he'd do anything for Eddie. Always. Eddie smiles, finally looking at him.

"Can't believe you tried to kill me with that though." Eddie huffs, kicks Steve's shoe with his own and nods at the cup sitting between them.

Steve laughs, watches Eddie smile, his fingers twitching in his lap, his wrist twitches once, Steve's pretty sure it counts.

~°~

The second time he touches Eddie's hands, Eddie's just made them grilled cheese, his signature dish. And he's stitting in front of Steve, his chin resting in one hand, his other hand hidden under the table. He's watching as Steve chews his first bite.

"Weeeell?" He asks, impatient, as always. Steve makes a show of chewing slower, his eyes lifting to the ceiling as he hums, thinking. Eddie kicks at his shin under the table, his socked foot not hurting at all. Steve snorts, kicks back, and says,

"It's good. Really good. Best grilled cheese I ever had." He's serious, knows he sounds like he's teasing.

"Yeah? You like it? I didn't burn it? I mean I know you said you like them crispy but I thought maybe I got it too dark. Might have burnt it." Eddie rambles, and Steve just smiles, shakes his head.

"It's perfect, actually. You're a grilled cheese wizard. Or a... grilled cheese... bard. No I don't think that's a thing. Wizard applies more here, pretty sure." Steve says, waving off his own words like they're nonsense, looking toward the ceiling again to avoid Eddie's, no doubt, exasperated look.

But that's when he sees it.

His eyes are on their way to the ceiling when he sees Eddie's hand, flapping next to his thigh. Steve looks back to him, sees him beaming, and can't help himself when he reaches out and grabs Eddie's shaking hand.

But it's a mistake. He didn't know it would be. Didn't think. Had forgotten about that first day when Eddie had caught him staring and froze.

The smile drops off Eddie's face and he tugs his hand quickly away from Steve, hiding it in his lap, scooting back in his chair, away from Steve, his eyes on the table.

"Sorry. I can't- sorry." He stammers, shaking his head, his cheeks are red, his eyes darting around the table top as he curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach protectively.

"What are you sorry for? You don't have to be sorry." Steve says, his voice soft, just a breath between them really. Eddie frowns, shakes his head again.

"No. It's annoying. I know it is. It just happens. I can't help it." Eddie's voice is firm, his words sound rehearsed, like he's said them a thousand times. It makes Steve's chest ache, with pain for Eddie, and with anger for whoever told him that any part of himself was annoying. Especially this part, a part of him that Steve is sure is pure joy, made visible, made tangible and expressive.

"It's not annoying." Steve says, and he sounds... mad? A little. But not at Eddie. Eddie's eyes snap up, lock on Steve's face, he doesn't blink.

"It's not." Steve reaffirms, one shake of his head. He moves his hand, slides it across the table top slowly, towards Eddie, and then turns it, palm up, waiting.

Eddie's eyes twitch from his face to his hand and back again. Steve smiles, small, and wiggles his fingers, gives Eddie a nod.

"C'mon. It's okay." He nods his head again, eyes dropping to his hand and then back to Eddie's face. Eddie swallows, sits a little straighter, unwraps his arms from his stomach. Steve sees his arms flex, knows Eddie is squeezing his thigh under the table, nervous. But then he moves, slowly brings his hand up, and places it in Steve's.

He sighs, the contact he's been waiting for finally made, Eddie's breathing is shakey as he watches Steve curl his fingers around his hand, pull it closer across the table.

"It's not annoying Eddie it's-" Steve pauses. Eddie frowns, a grimace really.

"Hey. No. I mean it. I like it." Steve says, and Eddie looks at him, his eyes moving back to their tangled hands over and over.

"You do?" He asks, and he sounds so fucking small. So unsure. So Steve does the only thing he can think of, he stands, drags Eddie to his feet as well, and then presses a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"I do. I really do. That's why I was staring." Steve says, breathes it against Eddie's hand, smiles when Eddie's fingers twitch against him.

"I'm sorry it made you uncomfortable. But it wasn't because I was annoyed. I promise you that. You believe me?" Steve ducks his head a little, tries to get Eddie to look at him, he's got his free hand up by his mouth, his nail worrying between his teeth. And Steve has to smile, can see Eddie thinking, trying to make sure he does, believe Steve. One moment more and Eddie nods, presses his lips together, and looks at Steve.

"I believe you." He says, teeth worrying into his lip.

"Good. So you- I mean you don't have to hide it. Around me. If you don't want. Cuz I meant what I said. I like it. A lot." Steve feels heat rush into his cheeks and closes his eyes, breathes against Eddie's knuckles for a moment before he looks back up to see Eddie smiling at him. Looking a little in awe. A little breathless.

"You like it that much?" His nose scrunches and Steve just want to fucking kiss him. He nods instead.

"Yeah. I really do. It's like you've got... I don't know... happy little bat wings. Just flapping around you when you're having a good time. I love it. I love-" Steve stops, the words caught in his throat, because that's too much. Maybe. For right now. But he feels it. Has felt it for Eddie for awhile now, the warmth of it humming beneath his skin when Eddie's near him.

Eddie's beaming at him now, tears shining in his eyes, he hides behind his hair, for just a second, before he darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's, a quick press, and then he's gone again, and the space between them is small but still too much.

"Sorry. I've never done that before." Eddie breathes. Steve watches something that could be fear, or regret, pass over Eddie's features like a shadow, and refuses to let it stay there, not even a second longer.

He drops Eddie's hand and cradles Eddie's neck, draws him closer, til their sharing breath.

"Stop apologizing. I want this. You." Steve whispers, pressing his forehead to Eddie's.

"I want you t-"

And Steve kissing him. Slow. Sweet. His hands holding Eddie close. Steve moves his tongue along Eddie's bottom lip, smiles into Eddie's mouth when he gasps, and then deepens the kiss, just so, tilting Eddie's head a little for a better angle. Eddie moans into his mouth, his hands scrambling to grab at Steve's back, clenching in his shirt and unclenching as Steve tilts his world on it's axis.

And then Steve feels it, Eddie's hands, tapping against his back, like he'd thought about since that first day, like he'd dreamed about, on several occasions. Too many to count.

Steve hums into Eddie's mouth, smiles against his lips, their teeth clicking together as Eddie smiles too, laughs into Steve's mouth, his breath filling Steve's lungs as they cling to each other.

See, Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.

He just knew they'd feel perfect tapping out happy rhythms against his skin.

And for once, in his traumatic, full of bullshit life, Steve was right.

He's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.

But he does love them.

The way they move, and shake, and show all of Eddie's joys, wild, and uncontrolled.

And his to hold.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #i just really needed to write something soft and sweet and this wouldn't leave my head #living vicariously through these boys #inexperienced eddie #autistic eddie munson #he's a happy flapper!!!#fates endless inkwell #fei #mine #my writing #my fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #this is.... so close to my heart #i just want someone to want me ya know???? to see all the weird shit i do and be like ... fuck. that one. thats the one.

3K notes · View notes

highhhfiveee · 6 months

Note

okay here me out. abby teasing reader about having a crush on mike, and when he's around very 'subtle' teasing from abby to reader... SORRY IF THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE BUT ITS BEEN ON MY MIND.

it makes sense! i was working on a little ficlet for the "mint" series and i think this works with it (,:

self care

a "mint" ficlet. read the og here: 🍫

tags: mint!mike and reader, fluff, no warnings, just cute stuff (:

mike lets out a long sigh as he turns the car off, rubbing his hands down his face. security work is exhausting, and while he understands working overnight shifts, he doesn't see how it's healthy.

he's always tired, always irritable, always ready to call it quits and say "fuck work", staying home until he's caught up on his winks.

it would be a dream for him, he thinks, but he knows it's not realistic. he's doing this to better his life, better abby's life; it would all be worth it in the end, he hoped.

he exits the car with no urgency, trotting his way to the front door. he's excited to see you and abby, eager to sit and eat breakfast with you guys, tell you about his night.

he turns the knob and it gives with no trouble, which makes his heart rate tick up. the door is never unlocked.

he bursts inside frantically, beginning to panic a bit when he sees that you aren't in your usual spot on the couch, cuddled into one of the blankets or sweeping your green mint wrappers into your hand. the tv wasn't on. there wasn't anything happening in the kitchen.

it was eerily quiet, too quiet for his liking.

"y/n?" he calls, wildly hanging his security vest and kicking off his shoes. "abby?"

mike wonders why the two of you aren't answering, beginning down the hall with his hands balled into anxious fists. what if something had happened to you two? what if he went into one of the rooms and found something undesirable, something that turned him frigid and reserved? what if someone had hurt you?

the light's on in the bathroom, framing the closed door in a fuzzy ring of yellow gold. mike hears voices, muffled but persistent, and music. it's all it takes for him to lean against the door, grip the doorknob and count down before he charges into the wood, slamming the door open and yelling into the bathroom.

you and abby squeal, bodies wracked with fear. you both have green paste all over your faces, spread around your eyes and mouths in a precise layer. you're holding onto your chest as you try to calm down, tapping on your phone to stop the music you're playing. abby heaves angrily, marching over to mike and giving him a moderately powered shove. "not funny, mike!"

"i wasn't trying to be funny," he utters, huffing along with you two. "i thought someone had broken in or something. the door was unlocked and i called for both of you but you didn't answer. i was terrified." you frown, shaking your head in disappointment at yourself.

"i'm really sorry, mike. i took the trash out earlier and i guess i forgot to lock the door when i came back in. i would never try to put abby in harm's way."

"no, no, it's okay," mike returns, taking a deep-rooted sigh of relief now that he knows you two are safe. "i know you wouldn't. mistakes happen, i just lost it a little. wouldn't want anything to ever happen to you two."

your cheeks heat up at "you two". you're flattered that he cares about your safety at the same level that he cares about abby's, or at all really. you knew that abby meant everything to him, but you wondered just how much you meant to him, exactly.

"that's totally understandable. sorry i didn't hear you calling either, we were kind of caught up in the music and face masks," you chuckle shyly, pulling the sleeves of the forest green sweatshirt you were wearing over your hands. it's mike's sweatshirt, one that he thinks he remembers giving to abby sometime ago. you look good in it.

"y/n was teaching me about 'self care', and how doing little things for myself is important. we started with skincare, see?" abby places her hands under her chin, using them to hold her face as she smiles.

it hadn't been your plan to use your $40 face mask on abby this morning, but you didn't mind. you'd been in the bathroom, humming along to the soothing ambient music that floated from your phone speakers and smothering your face in green like you'd be starring in Wicked when she appeared in the doorframe, bleary eyed and lethargic. "may i pee?"

you exited the bathroom and closed the door behind you, opening it back up once you heard the toilet flush and the faucet run. "what's on your face?" she asked, shaking the water off of her hands.

"it's a face mask. this one is my personal favorite. it's specifically for moisturizing the skin, but there are so many other ones that do different things. i do them sometimes as a part of self care."

"what's self care?"

"i can explain it to you. want to try some of the mask after you brush your teeth?" she nodded happily, beginning to shed any trace of sleepiness.

"my skin is a bit dry." you laughed at her, helping her with her toothbrush. after, you'd sat her on the bathroom counter, scooping product with your middle and ring fingers and smearing it across abby's delicate skin.

"so, it's just like...taking care of yourself? literal self care?" you nodded, filling in whatever gaps you could find.

"mhm. just doing small things to make yourself feel better, happy, more fulfilled. we all need to take care of ourselves, living these lives. it's important to remember to take time for yourself when you need it, okay? taking breaks is good. humans need rest."

"mike never rests," she admitted, pouting at the thought of mike working all the time, tired and distant from the strain on his mental and physical health. "i don't even think he knows what rest is."

"i'm sure he does, he's just working hard to make sure you're never in need. he cares about you a lot, and wants you to be safe, and happy, and taken care of."

"which is nice," abby muttered, turning to look at her face in the mirror. she smiled, humming in contentment before facing you again. "i just wish he would go do something. take off from work and go out. go on a date." you jovially scoff at her words, tickling at her abdomen.

"what do you know about dating, huh? does mike even like dates?"

"i think he'd like a date with you." your entire body flushed with mortification, and you stepped back from abby, stumbling over your words with nervous laughter.

"t-t-there's no way he would, abby. that's silly. i don't even like him like that, it would be unprofessional..." you bit at your bottom lip, avoiding abby's eyes.

"oh please. you're my unpaid babysitter, not a salaried nanny," she reassured curtly, and you frowned at her, playfully insulted. "plus, i know you have a crush on him, y/n. it's so obvious. i saw you nearly die when he gave you those mints. i'm sure he see stuff like that too if he wasn't so clueless about everything."

you nodded, gnawing at your bottom lip so hard you drew blood. "well, jeez, thank you for the exposé, abby. still, i don't think he feels the same way. he has no time to think about me." abby only squinted at you, her lips pursed with amusement.

"or so you think." you'd waved her off, pivoting the subject by showing her your skincare collection, explaining all the different tubes and bottles. you'd fanned them out over the counter, grouping things by step.

"and this is vitamin c...usually comes before your moisturizer and helps with dark spots, dullness...you have to wear sunscreen when you wear it, but you should be wearing sunscreen everyday anyway bec----"

mike had burst in at this moment, scaring the shit out of both you and abby. how you'd forgotten to lock the door, you didn't know, but you're glad mike had gotten home before anyone else could enter.

now, mike just tiredly returns his sister's smile. "that's nice, abs."

"yeah, was telling y/n that you should try it. you need to rest and take care of yourself." mike nods, pursing his lips in that tickled way that abby did earlier.

"that so? do a couple of face masks, take a bath, and make some tea to renew myself?"

"sounds like a plan to me," abby cheers, looking towards you. "add going on a date to the list and now, we're talkin'."

"a date?" mike ridicules, shaking his head at abby's frivolous suggestion. "a date with who?"

"i may know someone," abby teases, winking over at you so unmistakably that you're sure you're going to combust with the number of times you've flushed hot. "someone not too far, in fact."

mike can tell that abby is killing you, prodding at your private, adult feelings and decides to make her stop. "okay, abs, that's enough. wash your face while i go talk to y/n, okay? and no eavesdropping."

"i can try, but not promise."

"abby," mike asserts, and she shrinks under his serious stare, mumbling, "okay, okay, jeez."

you follow mike out into the living room, once again tugging at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. it drapes over you nicely, about one size too big, and the color looks so nice against your skin, rich and earthy.

"thanks for looking after her, as always," he commends, eyes still trained on you as you return his kindness with a soft "yeah, always. sorry again about the door." but mike dismisses your apology with a wave.

after a moment, he says, "that sweatshirt's nice," rubbing his fingers against his stubbled chin.

you drop your gaze down, smiling at the clothing item. you liked it a lot. it was super comfy and smelled like their place, pacifying you through the late night and early morning. "oh thanks. i left my sweater at home and abby let me borrow this one. it's so cute on her but it's super big."

"yeah," mike snickers, letting out some air through his nose. "that's 'cause it's mine." your body's color is replaced with flaming red, burning from the top of your forehead to the soles of your feet. how many more times could you be embarrassed this morning?

"oh my god, i'm so sorry. here, i can give it back," you panic, beginning to pull the item over your head, careful to not get your face mask on it. mike stops you with a hand to your elbow, a gentle graze that doesn't move even when you have the sweatshirt back over your torso.

"hey, hey, no need. i gave it to her but i like how it looks on you. you look really beautiful...face mask and all." you blush vehemently, whimpering out "thank you" and bringing your thumb to your mouth to gnaw at so you don't say something else you might regret. you're sure mike can read your jitteriness, and you try to slip into a cool girl attitude when his eyes toss coyness your way.

you'd been babysitting abby for a while, and something about the way you continued to despite the hours and not being paid softened mike. of course he intended on paying you, but even when he did, he would always remember you as so kind, so generous; such a beautiful soul in a beautiful body.

"so...about that date?" he proposes, and the two of you hear a hushed, "yes!" around the corner of the wall. you both turn towards it, catching abby as she runs across the hall to her room.

"abby!"

"i said try!"

how flipping CUTE! i love cute shit like this, and after writing so much smut, it was nice to write something oh so sweet (((: gonna be posting smut next though lmao, just something slight, something slight. hope you enjoyed!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #faire’s (mint) mike schmidt <3 #faire answers asks #josh hutcherson #i love sweet shit like this #makes me want to be in a relationship #but only like 4 out of 7 days of the week #people are exhausting lmao #faire is writing stuff

605 notes · View notes

jacqcrisis · 5 days

Text

I can't stop thinking about the rings on Hermes' fingers. I can't. Whats the story behind those? Did he start wearing them because Charon gave them to him as a job well done? The weirdest gift imaginable to your professional associate?

Did Hermes steal them to be a cheeky bastard and got them fitted and put them on for the jokes? Did he start wearing them apropos of nothing? Just happen to start accessorizing like his professional associate? Is it part of a shared uniform? Can we see the employee handbook?

Did Charon go out and get rings commissioned to look exactly like his for not one, but two of his partner in crimes' fingers, slide each lovingly onto Hermes' corresponding digits, and then gently hold his now bejeweled hands in his own to see how they match, knowing Hermes will now carry something of Charon with him when he leaves him for his dangerous work?

I'm just. Asking. Questions. But I swear to God, if we get Charon's portrait and he has a feather or an orange ribbon somewhere on his person, I will be inconsolable for days.

#charmes #hades game #hades 2 #charon hades #hermes hades #i dont even necessarily want answers to these questions #i enjoy that this ship is about piecing together a scattered puzzle and inferring something from it #they dont even need to be canon for me to go feral again #so long as they still just as weird about each other as the first game and the same kind of mystery surrounds their partnership #ill be so happy without my favorite boys being canon #but dear god if they are. if we get even a scrap of them being explicitly sweet to each other #i just AH ill be ripping and tearing at shit #im gunna write fic again i can feel it in me bones

220 notes · View notes

smultronviol · 9 days

Text

Ppl going "waaahh unpopular opinion but Alice is kind of annoying and obnoxious and I don't think I'd like be her friend irl" is so funny to me bc like.

God forbid a cast of characters be multifaceted and have actual flaws and unpleasant aspects other than "grr angsty hero" and "whoops i'm so clumsy". Sometimes character dynamics and arcs need to be prioritized above "who would i personally be niceys with irl"

2. bro just WAIT until you hear about season 1 jon lol

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #season 1 jon was obnoxious and sometimes a straight up ASSHOLE and you were supposed to find him kinda grating!!!#yes alice IS a bit annoying and too much sometimes (esp in the first episodes) and i love that <3 #like. its p obvious that she uses the over the top-thing as a shield (to push ppl away/as a defense mechanism/to avoid being vulnerable)#we see her drop the act sometimes w ppl like teddy and sam who she actually feels comfortable around (and who know and understand her)#but like. she's stuck in a job she hates and is kind of afraid of (she KNOWS smth abt the horrors and is keeping her head down to survive)#(shes obviously afraid of sam going to far bc she KNOWS its dangerous)#so yes her act gets too much sometimes and yes sometimes she crosses the line into straight up mean (esp against gwen)#(but their dynamic is a whole other can of worms)#but like. i'm pretty sure its supposed to be seen that way. the audience isnt supposed to just find her kooky funny #the facade is supposed to be dismantled by the viewer etc etc #kind of like SEASON 1 JON the obnoxious bastard!!!!!!!#like. if you ever think alice is too mean towards gwen pls listen to s1 jon again and how he speaks abt martin??#from a position as his boss no less? ngl i wanted to throttle him sometimes #you kinda forget abt it in the later seasons and if you only engage w fandom content. but like. go back and listen to the shit #he actually says. jesus christ man. i remember kinda hating him in the beginning #and to be clear i love jon! i think hes a great character!#and like. its almost as if his early season personality and facade was an important setup for his character development #and relationships with the other characters???#but anyway 'alice is kind of annoying' is not an unpopular opinion its literally the FUCKING POINT #and both her and jon are my sweet baby angels <3 #alice dyer #jon sims #(and obviouslyyy you're still allowed to dislike a character ppl can have their own opinions etc etc etc. i just personally find it funny)

177 notes · View notes

odeu-m · 2 months

Text

b4 death B) - angel w a little hat below cut <3

tried to stick to their death dates a bit but. idk i only googled for like 5 mins. also i wanted those old news print colours 😌

#alastor #niffty #angel dust #hazbin hotel #fanart #i wanted to like. idk not necessarily match their designs but what i think they'd have looked like when alive #a lot of people give angel heterochromia which i dig but i like the idea he's got the same thing as david bowie - 2 different sized pupils #i wanted 2 make niffty deranged but also sweet bc i love her dearly but i do think she killed people #alastor i tried to like give him a cab calloway vibe like charming but then also his scary little smile #Had to give Al the little glasses chain for extra cuntitude #angel i think was strange to make bc. he's the least human out of these 3 to me. so he could've looked like anything.#you can pry him being a bleach blonde out of my cold dead hands tho this man has dark hair naturally #needed him to look Fruity. but only a little. the amount of times i'd give him makeup then had to force myself to remove it #i love talking abt visual headcanons im so shit at writing to so you'll have to put up w drawings just so i can ramble abt them in the note #human niffty #human alastor #human angel dust #.ctf

160 notes · View notes

pinacoladamatata · 9 months

Text

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #helllpppp #feel like pure shit just want her back #i just want that sweet sweet ost to play in the background of character creation

482 notes · View notes

spiderfroggo · 7 months

Text

rise up like a natural disaster

#starkid #holy musical b@man #sweet tooth #sweet tooth hmb #jeff blim #guess who got into starkid about five years too late #doesn't matter i still wanted to draw him #i can't do backgrounds for shit #he was quite fun to draw tho #украрт #укртумбочка #украртпідтримка #also holy shit i wrote “the” instead of an “a”#im too lazy to fix it now sorry

358 notes · View notes

084392 · 11 months

Text

i still wish nebby couldve stayed with lillie in the end...

#pokemon sm #pokemon sun and moon #trainer lillie #lusamine #nihilego #lunala #OK DISCLAIMER ABOUT THE 1ST PIC.#ITS NOT ABOUT THE FUCKING “lusamine didnt do anything wrong bc she was under nihilegos control the entire time :)” or WH #TEVER TF!!!!!!!!!! this is just about how...lusamine was controlling of her children and ended up being controlled by nihilego herself. tha #-ts basically it. and the 2nd one im Not comparing lillie telling nebby to go with the player as her #being the same as her mom or some other shit. i just. idk thought the idea of her wanting to give nebby a choice in the matter. and nebby #choosing lillie seemed kind of sweet...#my art

456 notes · View notes

teecupangel · 9 months

Note

‘What if desmond time travels and has to deal with such and such, or turns into an animal, or gets hurt, or-’

What if Desmond time travels and learns how to bake bread!! Huh!!? What about that!! What if he opens a super successful bakery, and solves all the worlds problems with the best fresh baked bread every!!

(This is /j but like. 👏🏻 anons let Desmond have peace challenge👏🏻 (but also don’t cause I love reading all of them I’m just like ‘how did you even come up with this? Sometimes lmao))

Anyway, since we already have a Desmond is a baker in Renaissance Italy idea, here’s Desmond is a baker during the Third Crusades instead:

So in this setup, Desmond would say fuck it and just open a bakery in Acre.

Jerusalem was too much of a hotspot at the moment and Acre had ports which meant there would be new customers that Desmond could lure in with the smell of freshly baked bread.

And it worked.

Maybe a bit too well because…

Kadar visited while he was out looking for information for his brother’s current target.

They both stared at one another for a moment and then Desmond just did his usual ‘Welcome! Are you looking for anything specific or would you like to hear today’s recommendations?’ spiel while Kadar just stares at him.

When Kadar went “Altaïr?”, Desmond just gave him his best bartender ‘I’m being respectful but also distant so you’ll still tip me’ smile as he goes, “I’m sorry, we don’t have a bread called ‘Altaïr’.”

Then he showed Kadar the star-shaped pull apart sweet bread he’s just perfected and go “But maybe I can interest you in this pull apart start bread? It’s sweet and fluffy and freshly baked.”

And sweet poor Kadar leaves the bakery with a basket of breads instead because Desmond was good at using both Ezio’s charms and his bartending social skills to get customers to buy more than they should.

Hey.

A man needed to profit to keep the roof over his head while trying to experiment for the upcoming debut of his sugar-free pastries.

The next day, Malik entered the bakery but Desmond was ready.

Desmond had planned for this!

“Welcome!” Desmond greeted, giving Malik his sweetest smile that he knew would completely unnerve Malik.

Desmond weaponized the similarity between him and Altaïr to unnerve Malik to the point that he cannot focus on observing Desmond, distracted by such a sweet smile that looked so disturbing in his eyes because he’s imagining Altaïr doing such an expression and it was horror beyond Malik’s wildest imagination.

Okay.

Desmond was exaggerating but that got Malik to not ask too many invasive questions and leave the bakery after purchasing two baskets worth of bread so Desmond was going to consider that a mission successful.

And then…

His greatest adversary entered his little quaint bakery.

And Desmond was ready for him.

“Welcome!” Desmond greeted happily, “Are you looking for anything specific or would you like to see today’s recommendations?”

Altaïr simply stared at him.

But that didn’t matter.

Desmond held all the cards.

Because he knew one of Altaïr’s greatest weakness…

Altaïr secretly loved sweets.

“Today’s a special day!” Desmond clapped his hands in practiced joy that wasn’t over the top, “Today’s the debut of our dessert line! Here.”

Desmond took out a tray of sweet deserts, glistening in either honey or fruit jams.

“Would you like a taste?” Desmond asked with the sweetness of the snake that tempted Eve to take a bite.

And Altaïr…

Altaïr left the bakery with a basket filled with desserts and pastries, quietly sinking into the shadows before anyone could see him and ask for one of the forbidden sweets he had acquired.

#i don’t know why this happened #i usually describe altaïr as not liking sweets #this is crack right?#i would happily participate in #a ‘desmond have peace’ challenge #although #knowing me #i will find some way to fuck shit up #for fun #if anyone wants an american revolution version #let me know #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #kadar al sayf

369 notes · View notes

mlobsters · 4 months

Text

supernatural s1e16 shadow (w. eric kripke)

aka the first time i had a full-tilt meltdown over this show.

#supernatural #eric kripke #spn 1x16 #sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #mygifs #spngifs #sam and dean mush #how to feel about your brother #like watching soon to be exes-the relationship is clearly over and one flaying themselves open showing their squishy insides #trying to make it work but the other is gently shutting them down and saying it's over #wholly lost my shit about this. late enough in s1 where we know this is A LOT of (too much?) emotional vulnerabilty for dean #but also way too early in any show's run to expect this level of emotional vulnerability and guts being strewn about #truly threw me for a loop. but it certainly set the stage for where they would go with sam and dean over the years #Dean's little eyebrow raise to the “I'd do anything for you” and sad half smile “could be” just punch me in the gut #and that sweet open expression talking about being together and a family again. ugh. such a rarity to see that on him #and Sam's “i don't want them to be” absolutely crushing. in the kindest manner.#but by the end dean's got his walls back up. oh my heart.

122 notes · View notes

jtl-fics · 7 months

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 39

Nicky screamed as he found himself yanked from his bed as he fell to the ground. The blanket that he had so perfectly burrito’d himself in had been pulled and he had gone with it pillows and all. He laid on the ground blinking up into the darkness wondering what the hell had just happened, he squints and thinks he sees blond hair. He racks his still loading brain to try and think of anything he had done recently to Aaron that would result in such a rude awakening.

The lamp clicks on.

“Nicky, are you- Andrew, what the hell.” He hears Aaron’s voice from the left and now Nicky can see the black armbands of his other cousin.

That tracks.

“Flight 8329 from Charleston International Airport to Seattle Tacoma International Airport took off 20 minutes ago.” Andrew says as if that means anything to Nicky.

“Cool?” Nicky squints at his cousin.

“There was an hour delay due to a staffing issue, but it is off the ground now.” Andrew continues and Nicky continues to not understand what is being said to him.

“Great?” Nicky hears Aaron.

There is silence in the room and Nicky finds himself starting to drift back to sleep. The floor really wasn’t that bad.

“So, Daniel’s not here anymore?” he hears Matt’s whispered question.

“Dude, why are you whispering?” Aaron asks.

“Smithsters still asleep.” Matt says voice still quiet.

“How the fuck did he sleep through Nicky’s banshee scream?” Aaron asks voice lowered down to a whisper.

“I think moving all his stuff wiped him out.” Matt offers.

“We moved everything he just said where he wanted it.” Aaron grouses quietly.

“You know Smithster isn’t much of a talker.” Matt reminds.

“Whatever.” Aaron huffs and Nicky is almost back asleep.

“Yes Matt,” Andrew says voice quieter than it had been when he had been rattling off facts about Daniel’s flight, “Daniel is not here anymore.” He says.

That is actually great news. Feels like a shame that FF didn’t wake up to hear it but Nicky knows that it wasn’t just the move that had wiped his friend out.

The last three days had been interesting.

First, Aras had flown back home. She had offered to stay longer with FF since Daniel was still around, but he had merely smiled and told her that he’d be okay. Nicky had almost cried when FF had said that he wasn’t alone anymore. Nicky’s heart twisted when the two decided that it was probably for the best that FF not come back to Washington for Winter Break.

Second, there had been the whole debacle where Daniel had shown back up with the man who had married FF’s mom. They had burst into the practice and had gone straight towards where FF was sitting sipping his ‘New and Improved Day/Boyd Smoothie’. Wymack had gotten between them before anything happened physically, but Nicky could still see how FF froze at the sight of his mother’s husband.

There had been raised voices, threats of security, demands on why ‘John’ hadn’t answered his phone to come bail his ‘brother’ out, that he’d forced his dad to come all the way across the country to bail his ‘brother’ out. FF had been quiet looking bored and unbothered by the tirade of the man who married his mother.

Wymack had been in rare form.

“He didn’t pick up because that phone is in my desk.” Wymack had hissed standing utterly stalwart between FF and the two men. “Now get the hell out of my Court before your son gets reacquainted with the Campus Police.” He points towards the exit.

FF’s Mother’s husband had demanded FF’s new phone number but neither Wymack or Smith gave it.

It was only as Wymack lifted his own phone up to his ear after having dialed campus security that the two got the hint and ran off.

Following that there’d been the expedited emergency restraining order request that had been pushed through.

Nicky and Wymack had been the ones that went with FF for support during the request since everyone else had a prior engagement. The security footage was all that had been needed to grant it as far as the judge was concerned despite FF’s Mother’s husband’s pleas that it was merely a ‘fight between brothers’.

Nicky had almost wished he had given Andrew the Maserati back when the jackass had shown up to the hearing with his son wearing a T-shirt that said ‘I’m not the step-dad. I’m the dad that stepped up.’

Oh.

He opens his eyes and tunes back into the conversation. It seems like Aaron had come to the realization that the only way that Andrew would be awake at this god forsaken hour of- Nicky looks at the alarm clock- 5 AM is because he’d been in the same bed as Neil who was a notorious early morning runner.

“You want the Maserati.” Nicky interrupts the whispered argument.

“No, I’m just here to comment on how Smith’s motorcycle helmet really ties the whole room together now that he’s moved in.” Andrew rolls his eyes so hard that even if Nicky hadn’t been looking at his cousin he would have heard the eyeroll. “Yes, I am here because it is now officially impossible for me to hit Daniel with my car. That was the deal.” Andrew says with a scowl, “So you are taking me to where you stored it.” He says.

“Andrew, it’s too early. They’re not open yet.” Nicky groans grabbing one of his pillows and trying to hide his face under it.

It was unsurprisingly ripped away before he could properly hide away from his cousin.

“We have to walk to wherever you hid my car.” Andrew hisses.

“Andrew you’re not seriously going to make me get up and walk the whole way there on the first morning that I can sleep in.” Nicky groans.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t stolen my car Nicholas.” Andrew hisses.

“You guys can take my truck.” Matt says with a huge yawn as he settles back into bed. Morning practice for the rest of the week was not mandatory.

“See, we can take Matt’s truck. The place is only a 30 minute drive away and it doesn’t open until 7 AM anyways.” Nicky groans and tries to roll under the bed. If he can get to the far side then it will be difficult for Andrew, with his 5 foot nothing height to reach-

Andrew puts a foot between him and freedom.

“This room is buying Neil and I breakfast.” Andrew says, “And then we’ll go pick up my car.” He says.

“What? Why?!” Matt and Aaron demand as Nicky groans still trying to roll under the bed despite Andrew’s unyielding foot.

“You all either knew about Nicky’s plan or were part of Nicky’s plan.” Andrew says.

“Okay but Smithster is innocent.” Matt says.

“True, but we need him to come.” Andrew says.

“Why?” Nicky groans changing direction to try and roll under Aaron’s bed only to be stopped by the absolute barrier that was Katelyn’s suitcases of off-season clothes she kept under Aaron’s bed since her own room didn’t have space for it all.

“So we can get into the breakfast place now instead of the usual time for people our age. The owner loves him.” He says.

Ah, FF’s old lady magnetism.

Nicky gets it.

The boy has very pinchable cheeks.

There are very few things one can do when faced with an Andrew Minyard who has decided upon something. Eventually their whole room was up though Andrew at least was far more gentle with FF than he had been with Nicky. FF could sleep through almost any amount of noise but would wake up at the slightest touch and go still.

Nicky really wishes that Andrew had a less conspicuous car because he’s sure his cousin could have gotten away with running Daniel over if he had a Volvo or a Ford.

Nicky went with FF on the back of his motorcycle. One of Aras’ parting gifts to him had been an orange helmet with ‘Foxy’ written on it. Nicky had loved it immediately and unironically. Nicky held onto FF and hoped that his friend was awake enough to actually be driving on the damn thing, but FF had seemed at least 90% conscious.

Either way they arrived at the breakfast place FF was pushed to the front to speak with the owner of the fancy breakfast spot and within 10 minutes they were at a table surrounded by the elderly early bird patrons.

The all-you-can-eat brunch was always both a challenge and a danger when you are a group of college athletes. A challenge because it always felt a bit like a race against the chefs who were churning out chicken, waffles, hams to slice, eggs of all varieties, bacon, sausages, French toast, cinnamon rolls, hashbrowns, quiche, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, and lox bagels. The danger was what Matt was currently finding himself in since the man had failed to pace himself. “I think I’m gonna die.” Matt groaned.

“Smith, where did you get that smoothie?” Aaron asks looking as FF was sipping a delightful looking smoothie.

“The owner gave it to me while you guys were filling your plates.” FF says. “I’m supposed to let her know if I need another one.” He says.

“When are you going to be off that liquid diet?” Aaron asks as he digs into some bacon.

“Well, next week I can just start essentially putting things in the blender and I shouldn’t suffer the consequences like with the borscht.” FF shrugs. “Gran said she’d send along a pie to celebrate when I can eat solids again.” He adds and FF’s face is as blank and as unemotional as it usually was but there was a general air of sadness.

“You know, I don’t think it’d bother Allison or any of the girls if you joined us for winter break.” Matt says from where he was staring up at the ceiling still overfull from going too hard too fast on the egg options.

“I don’t want to intr-“

“It’s not an intrusion.” Andrew says looking at his phone, “We’re inviting you.” He adds before getting up and grabbing his backpack, “Do not let them take my plate.” He says looking at the table. Andrew’s plate was laden with the sweeter side of things for breakfast and he had made up a plate for Neil who was supposed to meet them at the breakfast spot.

Andrew left and nicky figured he was going to go grab Neil outside. “Isn’t it for the original Foxes?” FF asks.

“Yeah, but you’re our friend so it’s fine if you come. I know Dan wants to really get to know the guy who took her place on the line.” Matt says with a laugh that has him looking queasy afterwards.

“You and me can room together.” Nicky says.

“Isn’t Erik coming?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Yeah? So?” Nicky questions.

Aaron looked at Nicky like he was an idiot and opened his mouth likely to say why, “I don’t want to intrude. I can probably just sleep on a couch out in the main area, if your friends are okay with me coming.” FF sips at his drink. “You and Erik have a lot to catch up on.” He says voice giving that slight indication that he felt awkward.

Catch-up on-

Ohhh.

Yeah, he and Erik are going to christen that bed if it hasn’t already been christened.

“We’ll figure something out.” Aaron says easily enough.

Eventually Andrew returned with Neil in tow. He was a little sweaty looking but definitely look like someone who had been running for about two hours at this point. He figures that Andrew must have brought spare clothes for Neil to change into so that he’d be acceptable in the breakfast joint.

“Smith has agreed to join us for Christmas Break.” Nicky announces to the couple as they took their seats.

“Quite brave of Smiths considering how the last holiday break went when he came with us.” Aaron says wrly.

“Yeah Andrew, make a deal not to stab Smithy again.” Nicky holds out a pinky for a pinky promise with his cousin.

Andrew rolled his eyes as FF piped in, “Romero stabbed me.” He says loyally.

Eventually they got to talking about their plans for the Winter Banquet on Friday. Nicky was going with FF as his date and had already gone out and gotten him an appropriately bespoke suit with Aras the week before.

Eventually they wrap up breakfast. Nicky, Aaron, and Matt all pay and they make their way out to the parking lot.

The parking lot where the Maserati was.

“Andrew, how in the world-“

“Like a locked gate would even slow Neil down. Got the opening time and the driving distance from you this morning and narrowed it down to the only long-term parking lot in the area.” Andrew says idly as Neil hands over the spare Maserati keys to him.

Nicky spends a bit more time bitching about the fact that Andrew woke them all up mostly out of spite and as a cover for getting his car back without Nicky’s assistance. However eventually the time for class swiftly approached.

“This isn’t over!” he says pulling on his Foxy Helmet and pointing at Andrew.

“I think it is.” Andrew replies with a shrug as he and Neil climbed into the front of the car.

Nicky rolled his eyes but climbed onto the back of FF’s motorcycle.

Winter Banquet was in 2 days.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

243 notes · View notes

bugsbenefit · 2 months

Text

Mike's og character design having a birthmark is really cool i think but also related gripe i have with the show is them not giving him a scar post s3 which would have been in the exact location the birthmark would have been in originally. perfect set up and then they fumbled the prime opportunity to make a homage to their original idea

the show always picks and chooses when to be medically accurate. like how Steve never needing immediate medical attention after the multiple blunt hits he got over the head is an actual miracle. but it's easy enough to suspend disbelief on that since people get knocked out and get back up again in movies all the time. everyone's used to that

but actual bleeding wounds are a lot weirder to just magic away especially when Jonathan and Nancy both got lasting scars from something as clean as a knife cut in the same show

face skin already scars incredibly easy to begin with and on top of that the cut Mike gets is the opposite of the clean knife cut J/ancy made. that's from getting his face forcefully smashed into a metal pipe and giving it's bleeding like that (unlike Max who only got bruises, no broken skin from hitting the wall) he seems to have either hit a valve/edge or the blunt force was That much. that wound lining is going to be jagged as fuck either way, no way that heals cleanly irl (only upside here is the mall being built as a cover for a new military base so the pipe's at least not rusty, small wins. low tetanus risk who cheered)

i get why they'd ignore it from a technical perspective. giving a character facial scars is always tricky since you need to make sure it's in the exact right place every day with how obvious even small placement errors would be. i get they avoided the hassle. still, fumble imo, would have been really cool. kind of more surprised i've not seen more fans go with medical accuracy on this, that's things fandom usually jumps on. i've seen no art and like one fic go with that scar now that i think about it

anyway that's the closest canon got us to the birthmark territory but then they didn't L

#mike wheeler #i get why they wouldn't want to give him a scar from this for practical purposes #but then them making the wound that bad was the real fumble #you can have Tiny cuts on your face and that shit's immediately scaring #giving your character a 5cm bleeding cut on their face and then showing them 2 months later with no trace of it biggest medical lie yet #if they didn't want to give him a scar they should have given him and Max the same level of injury #which is Max's bruised and red but no skin broken type of injury #THAT healing with no scars is believable #not whatever they did to Mike here because that looks like you'd need to get it glued at the very least #but since we didn't get that in canon #seeing byler artists draw Mike with a brithmark occasionally is so sweet

97 notes · View notes