Tumgik
#not exactly but I was thinking about her the whole time I was drawing this
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just a girl 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.
Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
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It isn't your proudest moment. You don't have many of those. There is little remarkable about, nothing of note, nothing admirable. You might stand a bit taller than most but it's rarely given as a good thing. 
You never expected much of life. You resigned yourself to living in the shadows. In particular, you knew you would always bet outshone by your sister's light. You can't hate her for it; it's your own shortcoming. Besides, no one can hate Riannon, she's just that nice. 
You are dark smear on the family name. It's why you didn't even think to ask your parents for help. You didn't even ask your sister, she offered, insisted really. You could never deny her and in this instant, you couldn't afford any other option. 
It’s just for a while, you keep telling yourself. You’ll find a new job and a place soon. For now, you’ll just stay out of the way. It isn’t very hard; you take up much more room than your few possessions. 
You keep yourself holed in the guestroom as you settle into your second day. You have your laptop on your thighs as you scroll the job boards. You have the experience but you expect your reference would be any good. You didn’t exactly end on cordial terms. Starting from square one, though the industry isn’t exactly even ground for men and women alike. 
You hunker down to search through the various postings within your purview. Every classification is ticked off, even the years, it’s just that little note about contacting your previous employers that makes you nervous. Well, you at least have to try. 
A knock comes at the door as you edit your cover letter once again. You sit up and close the computer. You slide it aside and get up. You cross the room and crack the door open. You sister smiles from the other side. 
“Am I making too much noise?” You ask as your music plays music from its tiny speaker. 
“No, no, not at all. Um, so you know Andy is out of town for the day so it’s just us,” she rocks, “and there’s a barbecue down the street so... I thought you could get to know the neighbourhood.” 
You look down at her, the offer catching you off guard. You were prepared to spend the whole day hidden away and poring over job listings. Even when you had your own place, you tended to spend most of your own time inside. 
Still, she is doing you a huge favour and it would be rude to say no. You shrug, “okay.” 
“Great, I have some potato salad I'm bringing,” she chirps.  
“Uh,” you look at her blue checkered capris and pristine white blouse, “should I change?” 
“It’s up to you. I'm just going to get packed up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 
Her excitement is palpable. She probably expected you to say no. You don’t want to let her down again. You’re tired of that feeling. 
You close the door as she bounces away and you retreat to search through your still unpacked suitcase. Your clothes hang over the sides. You pick out a band shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans. You don’t have any shorts and you know your repertoire of dark colours only draws in the sun’s fury, and like of the vaunted HOA, but you don’t have many options. 
You emerge with a pair of converse in hand and head into the kitchen. Rhiannon snaps the lid onto a big bowl as she beams up at you. You don’t understand how you share the same blood, she’s so different than you. Where you’re tall and gangly, she’s small and dainty; where your dour and reticent, she’s bright and bubbly. Your parents even kidded that you must’ve been switched at the hospital. 
“Ready?” She asks. 
You nod and look down at yourself. 
“If you want to borrow a skirt or something, it’s pretty hot out.” 
“It’s fine.” 
You don’t take her offer as any comment on your choice, only genuine concern. If it was your mom, you would know it was more than that. To be fair, your mother is very direct with her critiques. Besides, even if her clothes would fit you, you don’t want to risk ruining any of her things. 
“Alrighty, well, Marge will kill me if I’m late again,” she sings and sweeps around with the bowl. “It’ll be nice to get out, huh?” 
“Mhmm,” you grumble and follow her down the hall to the front door. 
She steps into her wedged sandals as you sit to pull on your converse and lace them up. You stand and get the door for her as she prances towards it. She thanks you and you trail her out. The sun hits you like fire. It’s so hot, though you think some of the heat comes from your own self-consciousness. 
As you catch up to your sister at the bottom of the steps, you slow down to keep from outpacing her shorter legs. Even with her platformed soles, she’s still ahead shorter than you. You turn down the sidewalk as you shy away from the strange faces headed in the same direction. 
“You want me to carry that?” You offer. 
“Hey, I might be small but I can handle a salad,” she chirps. 
“I know, I wasn’t--” 
“I’m teasing. It’s fine, I got it,” she assures you as she hugs the bowl to her stomach, “I just want you to have a good day. Don’t think about everything else, okay?” 
“Mm, okay,” you keep your head down as you slink next to her jouncing steps, “sorry, I'll try not to be too grim.” 
“Whatever, you’re awesome,” she nudges you with her elbow, “you just be yourself and I know you’ll find some good friends around here.” 
You try to smile but it hurts. She always sees the best in others, even when it’s not there. You keep pace with her and turn up another curated lawn. The walk is perfectly laid and the blossom tree sways overhead. 
Rhiannon is welcomed through the open gate by one of those blonde women she has her book club with and you shuffle in with your hands in your pockets. You feel the woman’s harsh gaze and peek up. She looks at you the same way your mother does. Her name is Marge and her friend is Callie and there are dozens of the Stepford-like figures posted throughout the yard. 
“Come, let’s put your salad out,” Marge insists. 
Rhiannon looks at you and you chew your cheek, “go, I'll be fine.” 
She looks reluctant but you’re already walking away. You ignore the smell of sausage and beef rising from the barbeque and the splash and laughter of children from the pool. You aren’t going to find any friends here. That much is clear. Housewives and little kids, you don’t really fit the bill. 
You find your way to the far end of the lawn and stand by a tree you might just blend into. Or maybe you might bury yourself in the rose bushes. You pull your hands from your pockets and hook your fingers into your belt loops, swaying as you watch a bumble bee hover over the grass. 
“Foo Fighters, huh?” A low drawl brings your head up as a man approaches with a beer bottle in hand. 
“Um, yeah,” you look down at your shirt, tugging on the hem. 
“You go to a show?” He asks as he stops near you, drinking from the bottle as he waits for your answer. 
“Never been to one,” you cross your arms, “but I listen to them.” 
“Ah, yeah, well, they put on a hell of a show,” he wiggles the bottle as he talks, “lot more fun than these things.” 
You look up the yard towards the mingling of voices and sound. Despite your efforts to hide in a corner, you must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Shoot, maybe he thinks you’re trespassing. 
“I came with my sister,” you point and shift towards the party, “sorry, um, Rhiannon. I didn’t... I was just looking at the roses.” 
“Not my party,” he scoffs, “I don’t care.” 
“Oh,” you blink and look at him. He's about your height, dark curly hair, and vibrant blue eyes. His dark beard is thick and stubble prickles along his neck. He wears a plain white shirt and jeans; the bare minimum. “Right, er, well...” 
“Not a bad idea, hiding behind a tree,” he remarks, “but you're missing the key ingredient.” 
He stops and stares, crooking a brow as if you should know what he means. 
“Alcohol,” he raises his bottle, “they got a keg even. Probably the only good part about these bull—these things.” 
“I don’t drink,” you mutter, “but thanks.” 
You put your head down and stare at the grass around his shoes. You don’t know why he’s bothering you if it isn’t to make you leave. Obviously, you don’t belong. 
“Never too late to start,” he snorts and stays as he is. 
You don’t know how to make him leave you alone so you say nothing. The bee dips into a tulip’s mouth and you turn to watch it. Maybe he’ll take your silence as a hint. 
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nerdycanible1 · 11 hours
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Hiya babes! I am back again with more arts 👁️👁️
Actually I'm in an art block so this is what I've made in the past 3? weeks 💀
Anyways here is some more Lin drawings before I crawl back into my grave!
So- I posted this art already on my tiktok but guys- you get to see their full glory! I wanted to do a redraw of one of my fave scenes! Where Lin gets introduced-
Like it's not that great, and I think this is the first time I've actually drawn Korra but I don't remember 💀
Nah but look at LIN!! Ma'am looks spicy 😩
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Anyways and here is a drawing of young Lin I wanted to make! It's not the best but I've tried my best! And my friend absolutely loves the whole Lin is part Fire Nation headcanon. And boy did we make a lot of Headcanons about it! Lemme know if you want to hear about them and I'll make a separate post about them! :D
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Oh! And I also made her clothes red and I honestly couldn't figure which one I liked more ;-;
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All art has been made by me, Nerdycanible, if reposted please credit me!! Below cut, is the sketches!
Also 👀. . . Tell me why Tenzin fumbled so badly- 😩
Sketches babies! I don't exactly have many screenshots of the first drawing, mostly because it was between Fortnite matches 💀💀💀
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byghostface · 3 days
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Hello! Nika fan here! Uhm, curious, as you seem like a Nika expert, how do you explain her personality as a character? 😅 Sorry, sounds stupid, but I really wanted to understand her more! Detailed or in simplistic form, I don't mind one or the other.
Hope you have a good day! Love your art! ❤️ 💀 ❤️
Hi there! Thanks for the question and take an interest in her!!^ ^♥️ (I tried to keep it simple but I keep adding details about her, so it has become a lengthy description, but you can scroll to the bottom I have the simplistic version of it)
Detailed version↓
I would say Nika is a quick wit, bold, resilient, stylish, rebellious, and very much an independent person. Sometimes a bit of a showgirl in her own playful theatrical way.
→Painting her face with skull makeup. Her trademark move by tearing people's hearts out. Presenting herself in distinctive outfits. Kneeling as a sign of respect when she first meets with people whom she holds long admiration for - Batman, her (past) mentor Lord Death Man. When she goes undercover with Damian in Gotham High, she shows up dressing to her own taste in clothes, even though he tells her to be inconspicuous.
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"Sorry, I don't do inconspicuous."
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Batman and Robin(2023)#8 -Artist: Nikola Čižmešija-
She tends to make silly nicknames for people, like throwing it in between conversations as a not-serious jab/comment: Damian- little birdie, Bruce- Daddy bat-brucks (reference Annie), Ra's Al Ghul- old fart😭(cus he is in ghost/spirit form, and properly bugging her for a while…)
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The interests she has are drawing and opera. She also mentioned she's a K-pop stan, so I imagine she is interested in different ranges of music.
"—wander around an old folk's home and like… pick up painting or opera, y'know?"
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Nika is an easygoing, open-minded and curious person (reads Damian's manga and talks to him about it). She's not very good at picking up social cues (saying death-related jokes at bad timing or it didn't land well) despite that, she still pays attention to what people are saying and observes people well (discuss the fighting skills of tournament fighters with Damian, and showing concern about Damian's injured arm).
"It's good. I like that it's a romance about an art school. But also about being competitive…"
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And oftentimes she lives in her own head (obsesses with death and honing her newfound powers). It improves after she meets Damian and considers other possibilities in life other than death and killing.
"Life can be more than just being really good at killing people. You've proven that a few times."
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Batman and Robin(2023)#7 -Artist: Simone Di Meo-
She likes to handle things at her own pace/plans and has the confidence in herself to do it correctly. So she has the bad habit of saying white lies or doesn't tell people the whole picture/exactly what she is trying to do.
Sometimes doing things head-on fearlessly because she has ambition and pride in herself (calls dibs on Damian's first match, keeps fighting in the death tournament attempt to gain victory, takes over Lord Death Man's empire, takes inspiration from Talia and makes a new outfit for herself).
When first met, people might find Nika quite rude/careless. Once you get to know her, she's just very straightforward and honest when expressing her feelings. She can be pretty brash, had short-tempered to people who are disrespectful/annoying to her.
"If you really are this badass that you think you are, you'll respect me."
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Nika is a person of a free spirit with a strong will and motivation. She would follow reasonable orders/rules from ppl whom she respects, but she would get irritated when people tried to hold tight control over her and tell her what she should or shouldn't do, it might signal her that they don't trust/have faith in her (like her family). And if she feels like being overlooked/underwhelming, she tries to rebel and manage things on her own terms (run away from home to learn more about her powers, overthrow Lord Death Man, handle Mila's situation, go to Gotham to see Damian after his lack of contact/attention to her even though he calls her his girlfriend first).
Simplistic version (summary)↓
Prominent personality trait— Quick wit and easygoing, with a strong will and motivation. A confident, resilient, fashionable, and challenging person.
Hobby(so far)— Drawing, k-pop, opera.
Social ability— Tends to be playful, joking around with people, and likes to nickname them as a not-serious jab/comment. Mostly minding her own business, and not relying on other people much. Kind of a lone wolf who values her own time and effort.
Goals(so far)— Relying on her obsession with death to make sense of life. After the tournament and managing Lord Death Man's criminal empire she wants to slow down a bit to enjoy/explore her life.
With Damian— Playful, free talking and showing more emotions with him. Honest to him with times (resolved misunderstanding with him quickly). Likes his accompany a lot.
With (her older sister) Mila— a bit melancholy but not afraid to fight against her when she is being disrespectful/harmful.
And Ty for liking my art!!💝 I must say my portrayal of Nika still has some level of my preference/fanon in it (I love my art, but I'm not always satisfied with how I portray her within my ability). So take it with a grand of salt and give comics a try if you can! (For Nika, Robin2021, Lazarus planet: Next evolution, and Batman and Robin2023)
Have a great day anon, and thanks for reading!!🫶⚰️💀🦴♥️
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science-lings · 3 months
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me, looking at a male character: for totally not sapphic reasons I'm going to turn you into a woman
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blujayonthewing · 10 months
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something I think is kind of funny but also genuinely really good is how many times I've gone 'okay this OC isn't necessarily attractive' and then over time that has eventually ceased to be true, mostly just because I've changed my mind about it
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literally deo
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leascorner · 3 months
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b.b. | With child
Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.
Pairing:  Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader
Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.
Words Count: 2.1k
Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!
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“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.
Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.
His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.
You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.
He did not mind, or so he thought…
Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.
Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.
The ride home that night was particularly quiet.
Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.
On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.
He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?
He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.
When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.
Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.
Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.
“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.
Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.
You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.
Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.
He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.
He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.
He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.
In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.
All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.
It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.
“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.
“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.
He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:
“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”
“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”
“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.
It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.
“My love, this is not your fault.”
“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.
“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”
“Ben, of course, no!”        
“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.
You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.
He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.
“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”
“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.
Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.
“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”
“Ben, of course, I want your children!”
Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.
If he could not tell you, he could still show you…
Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.
“We should just take some time away from here.”
“What do you mean? The season only began-”
“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”
Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.
His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.
“France, it is then.”
Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.
One of the many to come.
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earth 42 miles showing up to his gf’s place unannounced and she starts freaking out and hiding her face bc he hasn’t seen her w/o makeup before
(I like this. Enjoy!)
No Makeup?
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First of all, poor guy just wanted to see you
He knows you wear makeup and he's cool about it
He's never cared about no makeup or makeup
He thought you were pretty either way
He was just sorta confused whenever he came to the realization he had never seen you without make-up
He would ask you about it and if you put yourself down when you're not wearing makeup, like how you look without he gets offended for you
Even if he's never seen you without he's like a damn soldier
Literally arguing with you about how pretty you are without it even if he's never seen you without the makeup
But he's gotta admit you do some bomb ass makeup
He can't even draw that good on how you do makeup
Absolutely beautiful with and without he says though
So one time he was just tired as hell
He probably was coming back from a job and instead of going to his place, he went to yours
It was always a habit but this time he forgot to text you before he came over
He thought it was no big deal with sneaking in through the window
So that's exactly what he did
He just wanted to sleep in your bed man
But once he got there it took you a moment to realize that, oh shit, Miles was there
And your makeup was not
The second you start freaking out is the moment Miles ALSO starts freaking out
"What?! What?! Why the fuck are you screaming, ma?!"
You're trying to cover yourself and shit and he trying to calm you down
"It's just me! It's Miles!" Cause he thought you thought he was some intruder
Or that he walked in on you naked
In that case he's just standing there and watching because he's seen you before and wondering why you're still screaming
The thought of you hiding something or someone popped in his mind and he's so suspicious
He's walking to the bed and trying to pull the blanket off your head
"What's going on?" He's asking again and again like a kid when a parent is hiding something from them
"I'm not wearing makeup, Miles!"
Once you said that he couldn't help but freeze
He laughed
He couldn't help but laugh
It felt like something so silly
He actually felt a little bad that you wanted to hide yourself from him just because you weren't wearing makeup
He actually stole the whole blanket
You may have thought he would think you looked bad without the makeup
But honey no
He was actually staring but staring in awe
You look so pretty without it
It may be little imperfections you hate but he loves those imperfections
He is spending the whole time complimenting you and shit
Worhsiping tje ground you walk on because that's his fucking job
He just finds you so pretty without the makeup and with it
From now on he will watch you without the makeup and watch you just smiling a little while you put makeup on
Admiring with and without I say
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@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @edgyficuselastica @sylisan @onginlove
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Lesson 1: "White Man Painted Black"?
Okay, I recognize that this is a strong foot to step off on! But! If you learn nothing else from this series, if you decide for whatever reason to forsake me: this is the ONE perspective I'd like you to take away!
You may have heard this quote before, when Black fans deride a character design as 'a white man with the brown bucket tool'. On its face, it means exactly what was said. But specifically, what it means is that we recognize that whomever designed the character drew the way they normally draw for a 'default' character in their mind- default usually meaning White/Eurocentric features- and they added a shade of brown within the line art to make that character now 'Black'.
Now if you're feeling defensive, wait just a moment! This discomfort is not inherently a bad thing!
I'm going to use both a 'real world' example first, to show you what your Black fans and peers are seeing, and perhaps you will also understand our discomfort!
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(if anyone was curious, my folder for this lesson is titled 'brad' lmao and you'll see why)
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(I'll have y'all know that I actually worked very hard to make Blackface Brad look mildly presentable lmao I'm sorry, I'm wheezing, I can hardly breathe looking at him 🤣)
You see how, despite knowing where this was going, and using one of the darkest shades of brown in my Skin Tones arsenal, you still know that that's Brad Pitt? That nothing about his hair texture, his lips, his nose, or really anything other than the palette change... changed? And you can still see that?
It's incredibly hurtful to be told that that's supposed to be you. You know it's not, you know why it's not, but rather than hearing how it makes you feel unseen and what they could do to be better (since they wanted to draw a Black character!), the artist lashes out at you.
And as an artist, you might have worked VERY HARD to do this! That might be a real handsome guy you drew!! But... is he really Black? Did you walk into it with the intention, that you were drawing a Black Character, or did you draw a character that just happened to be Black? It seems like a silly thing, but it matters!
Okay. I just finished laughing over Brad. Now let's get into some more perspective changes:
Now, imagine you drew a character. You want to make her Black, so you change the hair and skin colors. All right! You have your Black character... right?
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Changed ONE feature about her? (You should obviously change more than one feature, but let's just go with the simplified example.)
What if, instead of just changing her palette, we changed her:
Hair?
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There isn't nearly enough time in the world, let alone in this little scribble and blurb, for me to describe the IMPORTANCE of Black hair in Black character design. There are so many ways to do curls, afros, braids, twists, locs, SO MANY HAIRSTYLES!! Get used to searching in the 3C-4C hair textures!!!! I plan on doing an entire lesson or two on hair alone, but suffice it to say, Hair Texture is thee BIGGEST giveaway that you 'painted a white person Black'- from cartoon styles to realistic! It reveals itself in your writing as well- just based on how your character takes care of their hair, how your describe the texture, how other people might perceive it... it lets me know just how much research was done. Because we can have straight hair! But again, that's a conversation for a whole 'nother lesson so- come back later 👀?
Lips?
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I love our lips, I really do. There's a long history of shaming Black women in particular for the way our lips look. So when I see them done in all their glory, it makes me very happy. Two-toned lips vary in shade and intensity, so make sure you're using references if you want to be 'realistic', but it doesn't have to be that hard. Even a little subtle shift like this in the design/story description lets me know that a creator was thinking about me.
Nose?
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One thing I've noticed ever since I starting drawing is that... people in a lot of mangas/manhwas barely have noses! I admit, out of all the features on the face, the nose isn't the most important. I think they should be, especially when you want to emphasize that your characters look different! People have different types of noses! I especially want to gear this towards those with a goal of drawing realistic portraits and the like- there, the nose is ANOTHER dead giveaway. There are Black people with aquiline and straight noses- we aren't a monolith- but is that why you drew it? Consider why you went for that nose specifically. That's part of the intent, in all this!
Now, you might be looking at me and going "Ice... this is just character design". To which my answer is: Yes! It is! It feels so basic, and yet if you ask your Black friends/peers how often they've come across this feeling of not being properly drawn/written, from fanart to professionally produced works, it's unfortunately common despite how simple of a concept it is.
I hope that you can walk away from my first lil lesson with new eyes. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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clusterbuck · 1 month
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just a boys’ game
7x04 coda (silly version) | based on my tags on this gifset by @whattarush
“Have you talked to your brother lately?” 
Maddie looks up from the tower of blocks she’s been building with Jee-Yun. Chimney’s leaning against the door way, gym bag slung over one shoulder and a hint of sweat still glistening on his skin.
She frowns. “Just the other day. Why?” 
“Did you know about the basketball?” 
“Oh, the part where he was jealous that Eddie and Tommy are spending time together doing something he doesn’t even like?” she asks.
Chimney points an accusatory finger at her. “So you did know! Why didn’t you warn me?” 
“Warn you about—” she looks at him again, at the gym bag bulging suspiciously. Much like it would if it contained, say, a basketball. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” Chimney says, finally walking all the way into the living room. He sits on the other side of the pile of blocks and leans back on his hands. “He used me, Maddie. As a basketball beard.” 
“Pretty sure that’s not a real thing,” she says, and Chimney sighs, dramatic and long-suffering.
“Basketball beard,” he says. “Noun. When you tell someone you want to play basketball with them, but you actually just want to use them as a cover to be where someone else is.” 
“Is that how words work?” Maddie asks, grinning, and Chimney looks affronted.
“Words work however I want them to work,” he says. “Just ask Shakespeare, he made half that shit up.” 
Maddie hums, a laugh nearly breaking through it. “Shakespeare, got it.”
“Oh, you should have seen it,” Chimney says, and accepts a block that Jee-Yun hands him. “Here? No?” he asks, and Jee-Yun sighs, just as dramatic as he had a moment ago, and takes the block back.
“That bad?” Maddie winces.
“I haven’t seen him act this embarrassing since—” Chimney narrows his eyes. “Since Eddie joined the 118.” 
Maddie snorts. “Well, that tracks.” 
“What do you—” Chimney’s eyes go wide. “Oh,” he says slowly. “Oh, I see.” 
“Right? I’m not just imagining this?” Maddie asks. “You should have heard him going on about Eddie and Tommy the other day. Has this been under our noses the whole time?” 
“I mean, it hasn’t been that long,” Chimney says. 
Maddie frowns. “What do you mean?” 
Chimney frowns, too. “What do you mean?” 
“Did something change recently?” Maddie asks. 
Chimney’s brows draw further together. “Okay, back up. Start from the beginning. What are you thinking?”
“Okay, so, Buck and Eddie and Tommy all met for the first time a couple of weeks ago when you went after Bobby and Athena,” Maddie says, counting it on a finger. “Eddie and Tommy started spending time together.” Another finger.
“With you so far,” Chimney says. “Honestly, makes sense they’d get along. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.”
Maddie holds up another finger. “The other day, Buck was sitting at our kitchen table talking my ear off about Tommy this and Tommy that and how even Christopher thinks Tommy is so cool.” 
“Still following,” Chimney confirms.
“Buck tricked you into going to a pickup basketball he’s been dodging for years, because Eddie would be there with Tommy.” 
“Yeah,” Chimney says. “Because he’s jealous.” 
“Exactly,” Maddie says. “Jealous of—”
“—Eddie,” Chimney fills in, just as Maddie finishes her sentence. 
“—Tommy.” 
Chimney blinks. “You think—”
“Well, I did,” Maddie says, “But actually—”
“No, no, I think you’re onto something,” Chimney says. “He and Eddie have always been weirdly attached at the hip.”
“But he has been talking about Tommy an awful lot,” Maddie says. “It’s suspicious. You know he went to tour the helicopters the other day?” 
“Bet on it?” Chimney asks.
Maddie grins. “You’re on.” 
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itsbecomeblue · 7 months
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lover girl!ellie headcanons
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sinopse: highschool romance with ellie
cw: nsfw with warning near the end, swearing, basically fluff, ellie and reader play soccer, puppy love, slightly loser!ellie, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread (it's definitely not)
★ lover girl!ellie who has a bunch of girls swooning over her but she doesn't pay any mind.
★ lover girl!ellie who is the soccer team's captain and meets you when you join the team late junior year.
★ lover girl!ellie who helps you during practice and games.
★ lover girl!ellie who asks you for water during practice and spends the whole week thinking about the indirect kiss.
★ lover girl!ellie who notices how often you blink, how heavy you breathe, how you look at her during practice.
★ lover girl!ellie who writes about you in her journal.
★ lover girl!ellie who talks about you to her best friends.
"you should ask her out, ellie" dina would always say, jesse backing her up, but ellie always brushes it off with sweet flustered chuckles.
★ lover girl!ellie who gives you a sketch of you after practice, the day before spring break.
★ lover girl!ellie who nearly falls off the bed when you text her.
★ lover girl!ellie who invited you over (dina and jesse's idea) and you draw together... ellie praises you through it too.
"you play with colors so well" "you're doing good, see?" as she points to your work.
★ lover girl!ellie who asks joel what he thinks of you and spends the whole night rambling about you.
★ lover girl!ellie whose eyes widened when you kissed her goodbye, she pulled you to a hug before kissing you again, arms wrapped around eachother.
★ lover girl!ellie who ever since, hangs out with you everytime she can and smiles everytime you call it a date.
★ lover girl!ellie who when you're back at school doesn't mind pda at all, holding your arm, your hand, your back.
★ lover girl!ellie who gives you handwritten letters after you do it once, adding sketches. becoming a thing between the two of you... from high school junior year to now, the end of freshmen in college.
nsfw (praise kink, switch ellie and reader)
★ lover girl!ellie who preferes cozy making out on the couch or the bed.
★ lover girl!ellie who loves dry humping, pressing your jeans agaisnt eachother
★ lover girl!ellie who loves when you mutter words of praise and love during your first time together.
you on top of her, rubbing her clit while she sucked your neck, collarbone and tits trying to keep quiet. "let me hear you ellie..." you whisper into her ear and suck her earlobe and she lets out a "fuck" and her legs shake. her hands find your hair pulling you so you face her, you smile. "god you're sexy" she grunts and kisses you deeply, moaning into your mouth as you slide a finger inside and a few thrusts in, she's cumming around your fingers. you end up going down on her later, she's squirming underneath you at every praise... a "you taste so good, ellie" while roaming your hands on her abs and hips and she's cumming all over your tongue once again... for the third time.
★ lover girl!ellie who takes a little longer to find the confidence to give and top you. asking for reassurance and leaning onto your praises.
"you like that?" her voice is raspy and she's doing everything perfectly. she's sat against the bed's headboard and you're on top of her as she fucks her fingers up into you. "yeah" you tilt your head back, moaning her name, grinding your clit back and forth on her hand. "you're doing so well for me ellie, fucking me so well" you look down at her and she fucks you deeper and you fall on her shoulder "am i now?" she asks and you can feel her grin and she grabs your ass. grunting "so. fucking. pretty" between thrusts and you grip her shoulders, almost yelling her name against her shoulder and she doesn't stop until you're squirting "good girl yeah... good girl "
★ lover girl!ellie who really values aftercare, kissing eachothers shoulders and backs... cleaning after eachother.
★ lover girl!ellie who makes love and fucks good.
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luveline · 1 month
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That family holiday kbd was soo cute😭
Can we get a blurb about playing at the resort’s pool with Steve and the kids? 🫶🏻
kbd — the harrington’s go poolside !! mom!reader, 1.4k
“Can we hold hands?” Beth asks. 
You throw your hand out to her showfully. She giggles as she takes it, rejuvenated after a good night's sleep and a huge breakfast from the buffet. You and Steve are probably happier about her gorging than she is; it’s never a bad day when Bethie eats well. 
Steve holds a toddling Dove’s hand, leaning down to accommodate her tiny stature, while Avery walks just ahead. “It’s gonna be fun, bubby,” Steve’s saying, “I promise.” 
Dove’s been to the pool a couple of times, but never for long. Last time she’d been in Steve’s arms for the whole session, while you shepherded Beth, and Avery played water games with her Aunt Robin. You’re a little scared to be taking them now with just the two of you, but Steve reassured you that everyone would be perfectly safe in the kids pool under both your supervision and the lifeguards, and you tend to trust his judgement. 
You leave the hotel lobby and step out into the resort’s back, white concrete and bright green sections of grass cut by paths that lead down to the pools and water features. Steve shouts for Avery to stay close, your oldest girl gasping with excitement as you draw near the pool and families already swimming in the sun. Her flip-flops slap the ground. 
“Mom, it’s too sunny,” Bethie whines. 
“This is why we all have hats. Do you want a hat?” 
“No.” She frowns. “I can’t see.” 
“You can’t see?” you ask. “I might have something that can help. Let’s just get to some seats and I’ll show you.”  
There are rows of blue plastic chairs and sun loungers outfitted with tables near the kiddie pool, more further down toward the adult pool. Families have already set up in places, but there’s plenty of room for you, your family, and your huge baby bag. 
Steve hoists Dove onto a sun lounger. Avery next, though she stays standing, her excitement catching. A sprinkler shaped like a flower rains generous streams of water down onto a laughing little girl and her mother. Avery watches them over Steve’s shoulder. “Can we swim? Please, dad, I want to go under the sprinkler!”
“Yeah. Let’s take your nice dress off first, sweetheart, put your arms up. Up, up!” 
She holds up her arms for Steve to help her out of her dress. You and Beth take the sunlounger opposite, where she’s quick to climb into your lap, hiding her face from the sun. 
You knew Beth wouldn’t wear a hat. She hates them, just like she hates flip flops, sandals, and any shoes without socks. Luckily she’s fine to go barefoot from here —you begin to untie her laces. “I have something new for us to try. I think you’re gonna love it, but maybe you won’t, I don’t know.” 
“What is it?” 
You unzip the bag and pull out a round blue container. It clicks open, unveiling a toddler-sized pair of sunglasses made of a strange soft plastic. 
“You can match daddy,” you sing-song, attempting to entice her. “And keep your eyes away from the sun.” 
“Will they stay on when I swim?” she asks. 
“Maybe not, but I’ve got you goggles for swimming. Are you ready to swim? Or are we gonna sit here for a bit in the sun?” 
Avery jumps down off of the sunlounger. The skirt of her swimsuit bounces as she runs to you, hands vying for your bag. “Mom, I want goggles too.” 
“I got you some, don’t worry. Let daddy do it. He has to make them smaller on your head.”
Steve outfits Avery in her goggles, and takes Dove’s dress off to leave her in her swimsuit (or scuba suit). Beth doesn’t wanna swim yet, but you take her dress off and begin the long process of covering each child in SPF. 
“There,” you say, wiping a smudge of sunscreen from Avery’s arm down into her hand. “Tada! You’re now safe from the sun.” 
“I love the sun.” 
“I know, but the sun doesn’t love us. It gets too hot.” 
“That’s why we have to drink.” 
“Exactly, baby, exactly.” You frame her face with your hands. “Hey, you look beautiful today. You do! Look at your lovely smile, so pretty, better let me have a little kiss.” 
“Mommy,” she giggles. 
“Just a little one, Avey, just one–” You kiss her cheek twice, one near her nose and the other her ear, before pulling her in for a slightly slimy hug. The sun warms the back of your neck, and her shoulders are warm where your arms slide over them. 
“That was two,” Steve says. 
“You rat,” you say, grinning as he leans down to hug you from behind. 
“Better give me one to make it even,” he says in your ear.
“Don’t think that’s how it works.” 
He gives you a quick kiss. “Hey, Dove! Babe, where are you going?” 
“Swim!” 
“Guess we better get in,” he says, thumb in your shoulder and then suddenly gone as he chases your waddling barely-toddler before she can get too far away. 
“Ready, Beth?” you ask. 
“You’re coming in?” she asks you. 
“Yeah, I’m coming in,” you say, forcing a smile. 
You've had three babies. You know you don’t look like you did when you and Steve first met, don’t look like somebody you’d see on TV or in the background of a Madonna video. He sees you naked all the time and he’s never had any complaints (the opposite, always), but these people aren’t used to you. You have a doughy stomach and the baby weight sticks to your chest and thighs; you’re so worried you’ll be judged for how you look you start to resent yourself for not trying to fix it. 
You pull your dress over your head hesitantly. 
An immediate wolf whistle echoes from the poolside. 
Steve’s ankle deep in the kids shallows, his fingers still in his mouth, the other arm wrapped around Dove. The sun turns his hair a dirty blonde, his mild tan lightened. 
“Steve, don’t,” you scorn, immediately flustered at the attention it draws. 
“That’s my wife,” Steve says to Avery, unaffected. 
You grab Bethie, kiss her under the chin, and try to act like you aren’t embarrassed as you meet them in the water. 
“Well hello, gorgeous,” he says, grabbing for you, not quite reaching. 
The water’s cold. “Stop, Steve.” 
“You’re so beautiful, come here, I need a kiss.” 
“Stop.” 
“Seriously?” he asks. 
You hug Beth. “Maybe one more.” 
“Mom, you’re beautiful!” Avery shouts. 
“Yeah, mom, you’re beautiful,” Beth says. 
Steve smirks from over Dove’s head. “Took the words right out of my mouth.” 
You and Steve kneel in the pool. The water isn’t that deep at its deepest, and the girls can stand without being submerged. Avery and Bethie hold hands under the sprinkler flower to stop from either girl getting lost, while you and Steve watch with Dove held in his arms. “How’s that, Dovey? Are you having fun?” you ask saccharinely. 
Steve sighs. “You really are so, so beautiful.” 
“Daddy’s feeling silly,” you say to Dove, “he doesn’t get it.” 
“I get it.” 
“You don’t think people wonder what you’re doing with me?” you ask, mostly joking, ninety percent as you give your stomach a self-deprecating squeeze. “You look like you're still twenty-two.” 
“No I don’t. I used to have abs.” 
You push through the water to poke his lean stomach. “Feels solid to me,” you say. 
He laughs and pulls away from you. His eyes dart between you and the girls, softened with his laughing, “Get off of me, you rascal.” 
“Rascal?” 
You laugh worse. 
Steve’s predictable. He makes sure Dove is alright floating in the water with his one hand on her back before he leans across to kiss you, a wet hand to your collar, his lips persistent as he pecks you twice, three times. “Love you, pretty girl,” he says. 
You flush with heat from your face to your fingertips. That’s a rare one. “I love you too.” 
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pierregazly · 8 months
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let's face it together ꨄ carlos sainz
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carlos sainz x wife!reader
warnings: nightmares, mentions of anxiety, mentions of infidelity (in a nightmare) [wc: 2.3k words]
in which carlos' wife has been dealing with an onslaught of nightmares because of the heinous things people have been saying about her, and their relationship, online. carlos finds out, and does the only thing he can think of, he comforts her and professes his undying love.
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The nightmares had been reoccurring for months. Waking up with beads of sweat dripping down your forehead, your heart racing, your mind trying to place exactly where you were in the very moment you woke up; it had been an unfortunately common event for quite some time now.
It was all something you had grown accustomed to. Getting used to waking up because of them was the easiest part, trying to force yourself to forget about the nightmares and the implicit meanings behind them? Well, that was far more difficult and was the part you were struggling to grasp the most.
They were always the most vivid after a night of scrolling through endless unkind messages and comments. Strangers, people you had never met, people your husband had never even met; all saying heinous things about you, to you, because of you. About your looks, about your career choices, about how Carlos could do better than you, about how he probably already has and knows how to hide it.
Deep down, you knew there was nothing to truly worry about when it came to Carlos and his dedication to your marriage, but once the overthinking set it… it was tough to push it back.
The nightmares, the overthinking, and the anxiety that accompanied the overthinking weren’t things you had ever expressed to Carlos. To your knowledge, he had no previous awareness about them at all. He, of course, knew about the heinous things people wrote online, often telling you to disregard the unkind things they were saying and that usually ended up with him repeating sweet nothings to you in his native tongue to emphasize how untrue the words were. That didn’t stop the nightmares, nor the anxiety that caused them.
It was obvious when they were at their worst as well. Your body craved the warm comfort of your husband’s arms only to roll into a cold, empty space, your husband in a whole different country so his spot on the bed remained evidently, empty. It was as if your mind was taunting you, reminding you that you were physically alone when you needed him the most.
Eventually, you knew not telling Carlos about the sleepless nights would come back to haunt you. What you weren’t expecting was how distraught it would make him that he wasn’t aware.
Carlos had called you earlier in the evening to make sure you were aware when his flight would get in, and that he didn’t need you to pick him up as he had left his car at the airport. After telling him you’d wait up for him, he immediately discouraged that, attempting to convince you that he didn’t want you waiting up all night for him, and that he’d much rather crawl into bed with you when he got home and cuddle up.
Ignoring his words, you stayed up as long as you could. Passing the time with whatever you could find, a book, a drawing, your phone, eventually you felt the pull to your eyelids. You convinced yourself you would just close them for a moment, that you could rest them for just a few seconds and then you’d be able to go back to distracting yourself with whatever you could find to keep yourself awake.
The dream started as it always did. It was as if you were invisible, an outside force looking in on an intimate moment. It was always Carlos in the dream, and another woman, she never had a recognizable face, no one that you ever knew. He would be whispering sweet nothings into her ear, just as he always did to you, her face pressed into his shoulder as she giggled.
“Carlos, my love, when are you going to leave her? You’ve told me so many times it’ll be soon, please my love. I just want to be together, truly together.”
He would always sigh and press a kiss to the crown of her head before she continued.
“She’s not good enough for you, you know that. I’ve always been what you wanted, what you needed. She’s nothing, please my love, let us be together.”
Carlos would always pull her in a little tighter after that, looking in the direction where you stood in the dream, looking right through you.
“Don’t worry, mi coraz��n. She means nothing to me anymore, but she is so sensitive, I cannot just divorce her. I have to make her fall out of love with me first, I cannot handle her reaction if I do not. You know I don’t love her anymore, not like I love you, amor.”
That’s usually when the tears began streaking down your cheeks as you silently begged Carlos to take the words back, the words you tried to speak aloud coming out empty, further proving that you were simply invisible in the dream.
The nightmare would often continue from there, both Carlos and the unknown female drafting short insults, unkind words, and even worst statements about you as you were forced to watch upon them silently.
What you weren’t expecting was the gentle nudge to your shoulder, followed by a firmer shake, then your name being whispered softly.
“Mi amor, wake up. Mi amor, wake up, por favor,” you felt another gentle shake to your shoulders, your eyes beginning to open as they slowly adjusted to the soft light streaming into the bedroom.
Having never been woken up in the middle of the nightmare, it took you a moment to place your surroundings. Your book was still placed gently on the pillow next to your head, your phone face down on the spot Carlos usually laid, your mug, half-full of the chamomile tea you had started before drifting off was on the table next to your side of the bed. Carlos was directly in front of you, his brown eyes looking down at you with a soft look of concern present in them.
Carlos was directly in front of you.
A small bead of sweat trickled down the side of your forehead, your lash line wet with the unshed tears that your body had not had the chance to expel. You could feel the racing of your heart, the panic from the dream having started to set in before he had shaken you awake.
“Are you okay? You were whimpering and twisted up in the sheets, mi corazón. I could hear you the moment I stepped into the room.”
Shaking your head, your hands balled into fists as you moved them to gently rub at your now wet eyes. You had hoped there would be more time before Carlos was present for one of the reoccurring nightmares, had hoped you could work through what was causing them on your own before he noticed.
“Just a nightmare, my love. Nothing for you to worry about,” you continued to rub at your eyes as Carlos gently ran his hands down your exposed arms, his eyes still brimming with concern.
“Do you want to talk about it?” The Spaniard questioned, his body gently falling onto the bed beside you, careful to not crush the book that still laid on his pillow.
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned your head so that it was pressed into his chest, his arms instantly wrapping around your body to pull it closer into his own. Similar to the position he held the unknown woman that constantly haunted your dreams.
The soft sob escaped your throat before you could contain it, your hands that were still balled into fists pressing gently into your lips as you tried to keep the sounds at bay. Carlos instantly pulled back, concern and confusion even more prevalent in his warm brown eyes than they were before.
“Please tell me what’s going on, mi corazón.” His voice was filled with defeat, his free hand gently trailing his fingers down your face as he attempted to peer into your eyes.
You didn’t know how to tell him exactly what you were feeling, how you had been struggling almost every night he was gone, having to deal with these constant nightmares. How the anxiety was continuing to get worse and worse, which was causing the nightmares to become more vivid, more aggressive.
Carlos began gently running his hand up and down your arm again, trying to coax words out of you with his gentle demeanor. You knew you were safe with him; you knew he wouldn’t judge you for the anxiety, but you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him.
Eventually, the words began to spill from your lips. You explained the nightmare in detail, from start to finish, how it had been happening for months now, every time he was away it got worse and worse. The Spaniard’s face dropped, sadness embedding itself in his eyes as you continued to speak, his arms pulling you as close as they could the more and more you told him of what you had been suffering through.
By the time you were finished, Carlos’ face was marred with a large frown, his eyes looking down at you softly as he traced gentle circles on your exposed skin.
“Mi amor, I wish you had told me about this. It hurts me to know you’ve been suffering through this alone,” another soft sob fell from your lips, rubbing at your eyes as you looked up at him sadly.
“I’m sorry, Carlos. I just… I didn’t want you to think poorly of me, or think I didn’t trust you, or… I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Moving his body down so he could spoon you from behind, Carlos peppered a few gentle kisses against the back of your neck and shoulder as you spoke. “I could never think poorly of you, mi corazón, nor would I have thought you didn’t trust me. I just wish you had told me so we could have faced this together.”
The sincerity was obvious in his words, he was trying to emphasize exactly what you had been telling yourself since the nightmares started. You had been telling yourself for months that he would never think badly of you if you expressed what you had been dealing with, that he would drop everything and anything to help you through your inner turmoil.
Carlos was constantly professing how much you meant to him, and how he never wanted you to go through things alone, and that he would far rather suffer with you, than either of you suffer alone. It was something that he, himself, had been working on. Expressing when he was going through something internally, because of a bad race, or because of something Carlos Sainz Sr. had said. Both of you had spent years internalizing everything, refusing to ask for help from those around you.
“Mi amor, you are more than enough for me. I am such a lucky man to be able to come home to you after every race, to be able to have you waiting in the garage for me when you travel the world with me. There is truly no one else that I could ever want, if anything, I am not enough for you. Strangers online don’t know anything about what you have done for me, what you have sacrificed for me, as my wife.”
Whirling around to glare at him, your eyes caught on his own sad ones, softening yours instantly. Carlos had told you more than once that he felt guilty you had to cater to his schedule more than he could ever cater to yours. You had stressed to him that you would follow him to the end of the world, just as you had told him in your wedding vows months before that conversation.
“Marriage comes with sacrifice, my love. If we had to start all over, I would still do everything again. I’m just scared that one day maybe I won’t be enough for you, that you’ll decide someone else is prettier, or more suited for your lifestyle.”
A loud scoff fell from his lips, “No one could be more beautiful than you, or more perfectly suited for me, mi amor. I vowed that I would love you til’ the day I die, for richer or poorer, for better or worse. Nothing will ever change that.”
Turning your body completely so you could fit your head into the juncture of Carlos neck, you wrapped your own arms around him as you breathed in the smell of his cologne. You felt him press a kiss to the crown of your head as he threw one of his legs over your own.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through these things alone, cariño. You have been so anxious, and I have been a horrible husband for not noticing, I hope you will let me make it up to you.”
His hands were drawing different shapes down your back, as he began to murmur sweet nothings into the crown of your head. The words were illegible, a combination of Spanish and English, apologies and professions of love, promises that he would be there for you whenever you needed him, that even if you called him in the middle of the night before a race, he would still do everything he could to help you through whatever it was you were going through.
“My love, you are a wonderful husband, a wonderful partner, an even more amazing support system. The comments online just get to me, especially when you’re not here, it’s harder to believe that what they’re saying isn’t true.” Gently murmuring the words so that he could hear them, all Carlos did was sigh before continuing with his declarations of love, attempting to do anything he could to comfort you.
You knew it was unlikely the nightmares would discontinue just like that, but it eased a portion of your anxiety to know that Carlos was now aware of them, that he truly didn’t judge you for the things you had been going through. A feeling of contentment washed through you, knowing that even if they did continue, they weren’t something you had to face alone, but something you could face together.  
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ahhh im not too sure how i feel about this one, so please let me know what you think! thank you to the lovely person who requested it, i hope it's everything you wanted!! there will be a smau part 2 to this one, which will encompass a second request that was very similar but i didn't know how to incorporate it in. i hope you all enjoy!!! 🫶🏻
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Eddie hated this and he'd just started.
See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.
He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.
"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"
But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.
"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."
Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"
"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"
Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.
When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.
"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"
That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."
Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.
Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."
And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.
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elliesbarbie · 8 months
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hands to herself e.williams
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title: hands to herself wc: 3.8k
characters: fwb!ellie williams x fem!reader
warnings: drinking, drug-use (weed), ellie being clingy as hell, public sex, cockblocking.., sub!ellie and dom!reader for like a second if u squint, dom!ellie and sub!reader, pet names (baby, angel, slut) edging, face-sitting, tribbing
summary: ellie thinks you look a little too good in that bikini you chose to wear for the annual best friend vacay and can’t keep her hands off you
a/n: this is way longer than i intended it to be…. the smut is there….. i promise….. proofread SLIGHTLY will probably make changes as time goes on. lmk if i missed anything!
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you were the last one to get to the beach house. you had some complications with your car leading to you arriving a whole 3 hours late.
you were pissed to say the least.
exam season had just ended and you were so ready for your only worry to be about what swimsuit you were going to wear for the next few hours, definitely not finding out what the number for roadside assistance was.
with a long sigh you pull into the driveway, as you turn off your car you let your head fall onto the steering wheel. there’s only a brief moment of silence before you hear an excited yell coming from in front of you. you look up to find, dina, one of your best friends since high school, peaking her body through the front door and urging you to come in.
“y/n!! finally, you’re here! come in!!” dina yells and quickly turns her head over her shoulder, “jesse come help y/n with her things!” you smile, already feeling better, this is exactly what you needed after what felt like days of driving.
you turn off your headlights and get out of your car, “what’s up, y/n?” you see jesse smirk at you and slide behind dina to help you with your things. “definitely not my mood” you grumble, hardly holding back your smile as he gives you a side hug.
“hey, none of that shit, you’re here now, be happy” he draws a smile on his face with his two pointer fingers and starts on your luggage. you laugh to yourself and start to stretch your arms, you had your body in the same position for like 4 hours, you felt like a rusted slinky.
“i can get my stuff ya know” you say, coming out of your much-needed stretch, “dina will drown me in the pool if she sees you with any of this, so i got it” jesse’s words sound strained as he begins to walk into the house with two of your bags on each of his arms and you give a quick thank you.
“hey,” ellie says, her voice coming from behind you, “thought you’d need this” you quickly turn around to see her with her arm extended, holding a blunt out to you, well, rather what was left of it.
“ellie” you feel even more annoyed, “you left me like one hit” you felt yourself grow more upset until you can’t help but laugh as you take the blunt from her hand and take a hit.
“it’s the thought that counts, no?” she laughs and crosses her arms. as you exhale you give yourself a chance to look at ellie and you notice she’s already wearing her swimsuit, a black sports bra and black to green gradient swim trunks, you can see her toned stomach and muscular arms…
this is exactly the vacation you needed.
“my eyes are up here, perv” ellie smirks and steps closer to you. she wraps her right arm around your waist and puts her mouth to your ear, “dina’s watching us, let’s not give ourselves away” she lets go and heads toward the front door “c'mon” ellie flicks her head toward the door and you follow with a smile.
she’s too smooth for her own good you think to yourself as you enter the huge beach house that you and your friends rent every year.
you and ellie had history. ever since you two were in middle school, ellie would always get jealous of the other friends you had and you found yourself jealous of the girls ellie dated. then in high school is when you started questioning your feelings for her.
during a sleepover, you guys had gotten to the point of having that deep conversation at 2 AM and you ended up admitting that you had never done anything with anyone. to this, ellie laughed, not at you but at the fact that she thought you were lying straight to her face. cause in what world would no one have made a move on you yet? she knew the only reason she hadn’t was because she never wanted to ruin the friendship you guys had but when you finally were honest with each other, your friendship developed into something more.
to this day you don’t remember exactly how it got brought up but eventually, that conversation sparked the question, “should we be friends with benefits?” and from that night on you two had a countless number of late-night meetups, quickies, and “bathroom breaks”. at first, it started out as “ellie is teaching me things so i don’t have to be embarrassed for my first time” into “ellie, i'm horny. let's fuck”.
as soon as you walked through the door, dina is greeting you with a big hug, “we’re gonna have the best time” she smirks and walks over to the kitchens island, “jesse’s putting your bags away in the room now and when he gets back the party begins so, y/n, i suggest you get ready” you can hear the excitement in her voice as she goes to make everyone drinks.
you laugh and make your way upstairs, catching a glance at ellie on the couch before opening the door to your room.
“you’re a fast worker, jesse, thank you” you say as jesse puts your last bag down and winks at you, “you know it! now don’t take too long getting ready, we’ve already been waiting forever” jesse yells as he walks out of your room and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes.
you open your bag to find the swimsuit ellie bought you for your birthday
perfect you think
you slip on the polyester bikini, take your hair down from your loose ponytail and you’re already out of your room. it fits you perfectly, it’s a pink string bikini that barely covers anything. just ellie’s type.
as you stride down the stairs you can feel ellie’s eyes on you. a little teasing wouldn’t hurt, would it? you think to yourself as you start to sway your hips. you can see her tense, this is the first time you're wearing this swimsuit since she got it for you.
you feel a sense of pride knowing the kind of effect you have on her.
"what's on the menu tonight, barista?" you lean over the marble-covered island making sure to accentuate your ass. dina turns around with the freshly made drinks in her hands, "pink gin spritz and strawberry mojitos" she carefully walks over to the sliding glass door, "gonna put these outside, meet us out there!" you see the door seamlessly open by itself until jesse appears, taking some of the drinks from dina to help her set on the outdoor bar.
before you can even comprehend the sound of rustling on the couch behind you, you feel a hand on your lower back. "knew you'd look fucking perfect in this" ellie breathes onto your neck, barely above a whisper. with her presence comes the smell of teakwood and weed.
her hand travels further down and rests on the small of your back right before your ass. "you're drivin' me crazy, babe" your breath hitches as her pointer finger hooks under one of the strings holding your bottoms on. "would be so easy to just," you can feel her finger start to work at the knot when you quickly shoo her hand away.
"dina and jesse are right outside, waiting for us mind you" when you turn around, ellie's face is inches away from yours. god, if it weren't for the pair outside you would be in her pants within seconds. her emerald eyes stare into yours with such lust your knees about give out.
“ellie” your voice drags. ellie moves her hands slowly from your hips to your waist. humming in response. her hands move higher and higher as they start to graze the bottom of your breasts, moving her thumbs back and forth, barely touching the tips of your areolas.
“so pretty” ellie hums, flicking her eyes between your tits and your eyes, practically giving you puppy dog eyes. you groan and clasp your hands around hers, pulling them away and to her side, “you said it yourself, let’s not give ourselves away” you start towards the sliding glass door and glance behind you, “keep it in your pants, williams”
she scoffs and follows you out.
the luminescent lights flood your vision as you step outside, there’s a cool breeze along with loud music, it’s honestly a beautiful sight. there’s lights hanging over the pool, connected to the patio, and even colorful lights in the pool. you spot jesse on one of the lounge chairs with a beer in hand and want a drink of your own.
walking over to the bar, you decide on a strawberry mojito and see ellie pop-up on the other side of the bar. “what are you drinking tonight?” you take a sip of your cocktail, humming in delight. “you” she says nonchalantly and you can’t help but laugh, “el, pick a drink, im getting in the pool” as you turn to walk over to the pool you can see ellie throw her head back, you’re loving this.
the cool water feels so good as you slowly step into the shallow end. you put your glass on the ledge and dip your shoulders under, leaving your head out of the water. you stand up and walk over to your drink, taking a sip before leaning your head on the ledge, watching ellie get into the pool. as her stomach reaches the cool water she hisses and her stomach tenses, at this rate you’re just about as horny as her. you break out of your daze when she fully submerges herself under water.
it feels like the music fades out when she comes up, her eyes lock with yours, she’s just so beautiful, especially in this lighting. her hair slicked back, freckles showing, flushed face, and her lips curling into a smile. she was just so gorgeous. you almost forgot your close friends were there when she walked towards you and spun you around, wrapping her arms around your waist and settling her head on your shoulder.
you wanted to kiss her so bad right now. you felt yourself grow needier and tried to push down the feeling of your clit pulsing, you needed some kind of friction. silently begging ellie to catch on. and it was like the gods heard your thoughts.
ellie’s knee pushed your legs apart, resting in-between the both of them. you tense, there’s a the tiniest bit of friction and it feels oh so good, but it’s not enough it just makes you more and more needy. you’re losing your train of thought when dina speaks up, “ellie sure is clingy tonight” she giggles as she gets in the pool with a huge flamingo floaty. “you know how she is when she gets high, dina” you’re trying to avoid any questions arising between the group, but ellie just makes things harder.
you can feel her arms loosen around your waist, only for them to find your hips. she buries her face in your neck and above above a whisper she asks you, “can i move them?” she gives your hips a tight squeeze to make sure you understood what she meant. you’re surprised with how fast you respond, turning your head to the side to avoid dina, “please” your hand grasps onto ellie’s and you can feel her smirk on your skin.
she starts out slowly, as to not being much attention to you guys. jesse had gotten in the water and was actively trying to flip dina off her float so it wasn’t hard to go unnoticed.
her hands grip to your side like her life depends on it, the thin layer of your bikini makes every movement feel more enhanced. your clit moved back and forth between the fabric of her swim trunks and onto her leg, the difference of texture making you ache.
“jesse stop!” dina yells and you both practically crack your necks looking over to them. dina was over jesses shoulder, hitting him on his back. “stop fussing! we’re at the beach, i wanna go to the beach” he makes his way over to the back screen door uses a hand to unlock it, “we’ll be down here if you need us!” jesse practically yells.
but you can barely hear him with ellie’s hands lingering ever so close to your pussy. she wastes no time in turning you to face her and places you two onto the stairs of the pool. she’s immediately on your neck, placing quick and sloppy kisses all over.
“such a fucking tease. dressed like this and not letting me touch you?” she hums into your neck, taking a breath in-between kisses to get her words out. you feel as if you’d float away if she let go of you. her hands were attached to your hips, grinding them harshly against her thigh. you moan into her touch and can feel the heat form between your legs.
“el-lie… hold on” you whine and that finally gets ellie’s attention. “what, babe? am i going too fast for you?” the auburn girl tilts her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm. a fake frown forms on her face before you respond. “not here, dina and jesse are- “ she cuts you off with a kiss, it’s slower this time, “gone. they’re all the way down at the beach, probably doing the exact thing we’re about to do, so…” ellie’s voice trails off as her thumb rubs over your pulsing clothed clit.
you shudder. “d-don’t bring them up right now” you sigh, arching your back into her. it’s your turn to kiss her now, tilting your head you kiss her slowly at first, wrapping your hands in her hair and tugging. ellie whines into your mouth and you pull her off your mouth.
she looked so good like this. face flushed, head tilted back, lips pink and swollen. her pupils were so dilated you were concerned for a second. only a second. before you lean into her ear and whisper, “want to fuck me in the hot tub?”
ellie practically moans at the thought. as you let go of her hair she grabs at the backs of your thighs and massages them. you gently remove her hands and slide off of her. “needy, huh? follow me, baby” you slowly climb up the steps and over the to the isolated pavilion on the other side of the porch.
ellie is following you like a puppy-dog, practically drooling at the sight of your now, wet body. that bathing suit was the perfect idea, she thought.
as you step into the hot tub, you groan. if you weren’t hot already, you were now. you barely get a chance to adjust when ellie wraps her hands around you to grope your tits. she’s pushing you into the back of the hot tub, you could feel a jet in front of you. “what do you think would happen if we turned this on…” ellie reaches one of her hands up and turns the jets on with a small press of a button.
the hot water hits your pussy and you physically jump back. it’s hits right on your clit, you’re a whining mess. “ellie…. el this is too much” you’re grabbing at her hands, her arms, the side of the tub, but nothing works. ellie continues on your tits, face submerged in the side of your neck, working on your jawline. “too much, angel? seeing you in this suit was too much for me, but you didn’t show me mercy, did you?” you moan.
“ah- i… just wanted to” your mind is scrambled, the pressure on your clit along with all the attention on your tits and neck almost makes you cum. and ellie can tell. just as you start to shake. ellie let’s you go.
you’ve never looked back quicker. it looks like ellie’s gone. you’re confused for a second until you see her submerge from the water, shake off her hair, and stare at your ass. “god damn” ellie looks up into your eyes while she slowly leans you forward, giving her full access to your ass. bent over the hot tub, she gropes your ass. gives it quick kisses and gentle smacks. “so pretty for me, such a fucking slut” she squats down in the water and uses her pointer finger to rub your throbbing clit.
“ellie, please. need it so bad” you grind your ass on her fingertip hoping for some kind of friction as you feel her slide your swim suit bottoms down your ass. “look at how wet you are for me” you can hear her smirk as she spreads your lips with her pointer and middle finger. you could practically cum on the spot.
“stand up for me, baby” as you move, ellie slides to sit under you and immediately brings your hips down. her lips connecting to your clit in seconds. sucking harshly, she grips your thighs, massaging them. “el… god, fuck!” you whine, grinding your hips on her face, her tongue flat against your pussy, letting you use her for your pleasure.
“that’s it baby, all needy for me” ellie moans on your clit. you can feel your orgasm catching up to you quickly, ellies tongue lapping at your wet hole and moving up to do quick circles on your sensitive nerve has you trembling in seconds. “ellie! ellie! fuck!” you ride out your orgasm on her tongue while you try to relax your breathing.
ellie gives your clit a quick kiss before slowly bringing you back down into the water. “so good for me, angel, always so pretty” ellie whispers into your ear and cups your face with her hands, dragging you in for a kiss. you eagerly slip your tongue into her mouth. when you break away there’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you.
“ellie, you’re pretty too, you know” tilting your head, it’s your turn to make her feel good.
“was thinking about you, earlier” you slowly grind your hips against her trunks, she spreads her legs slowly, allowing more access. “oh yeah?” ellie smirks and your hands travel to her toned stomach.
“thought about… your abs and your arms” your hands roam her body. “touching me..” you whimper as ellie’s hips move up to meet yours, in slow thrusts. she whispers curses under her breath. she somehow maneuvers her hands under you and slips off her swim trunks, shuddering at the heat of the water.
“fuck, baby, you’re killing me” ellie leans her head back when your hips speed up, you lean forward to kiss on her neck. sucking at her sensitive skin, you can feel her moan, “come on, make me cum, angel” ellie’s hands are in your hair when your lips travel up to meet hers.
your hands eagerly grope her clothed tits as her head falls back again “f-uuuck, baby, im close” your hips speed up as she tightly grips at your hips. her head is cuddling into your shoulder as she finally comes down from her own orgasm and you follow close behind her.
you become a whining mess in her mouth. chanting her name, yet again, and she loves every second of it.
“always so good for me” ellie takes your hands in hers and pulls them down to her side. you lean down and kiss her, “remind me not to wear this suit in front of you again” you giggle and see ellie scoff.
“please, i already know what your next birthday gift will be”
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starkidmunson · 3 months
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glitter & crimson (it has a title y'all!)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Nervous excitement has Steve out of his bed 25 minutes before his alarm goes off to wake him. It’s not unusual on game days. He gathers ingredients in the kitchen until he hears Robin’s alarm, and then he starts making both their breakfast smoothies.
She fumbles down the hallway a few moments later with her eyes still closed, takes the cup from him, and sits in the middle of their living room floor.
“Pilates today? Or did you get a workout in at the show last night?” She asks after a few sips, and Steve joins her near their mats.
“It’s a tradition, can’t go changing shit now.” He teases, laughing as she throws her head back with a tired groan. Then she’s hauling herself to her bedroom to grab a hoodie.
They exercise on the balcony, like always, but keep it light. Steve tries to get plenty of stretching in on game days, making sure he’s loose and limber before he hits the ice. After about 30 minutes, Robin’s teeth are chattering in the cool morning air, so he calls it, and they head back inside. He gathers his gear while Robin showers, and then they make their way to United.
Steve heads to the locker room to gear up, manages to finish a whole bottle of water before he hits the rink. He takes a few slow laps around the rink as the rest of the team starts to roll in, runs through a few drills on his own before team practice starts.
They keep things minimal on game days; sprints and passes, shots on goal. Steve does a final lap backwards around the rink, before clearing off to the locker room to finish putting on his uniform while the other team takes the ice for their own practice. 
As he refills his water bottle, he gets whacked in the shin with the body of a hockey stick. He watches it happen, feels an echo of the impact on his shin guard, before turning to raise an eyebrow at Max.
“Hello to you, too.” He says through a little smile. She rolls her eyes, but smiles back at him.
“They’re here.” She says, in an ominous tone, despite her smile. “You guys seemed to hit it off last night, I’m glad you didn’t scare him away with your weirdness.” 
“I’m not weird, you guys are weird.” He mumbles back, kicking the stick from her hand but catching it before it hits the ground. “Last night was fun. I just hope he doesn’t hate the game as much as I think he’s going to.”
“Awfully concerned about him having a good time.” She leans in closer to him to tease, and while he feels his ears get hot, he shoves the hockey stick back into her arms and walks back toward his locker. “Dustin is working in the AV booth tonight, so be prepared for a lot of Eddie on the big screen.”
“You overestimate how much attention I pay to the overhead.” He replies, rolling his eyes and taking a big gulp of water. 
He hadn’t exactly considered the consequences of Eddie actually coming to the game. He was bound to draw a lot of attention, but what would that turn into? Steve had, smartly, elected to stay off the internet after he’d gotten home last night, and he hadn’t bothered to check social media before coming in. He was sure there were pictures and videos of him at the show floating around, insinuating things beyond what they actually meant. He was just as sure that there was at least one person who had taken to their feeds to report that Eddie and Steve had hung out after the show; never mind the fact that everyone else was there. Never mind the fact that they weren’t alone. 
Except they had spent most of the night alone. Other than a few interruptions, their time at Fatpour had mostly consisted of Eddie and Steve sitting at a high-top table close to the bar, munching on snacks and talking about everything and nothing and whatever crossed their minds. Eddie insisted he was going to make a playlist for Steve, and Steve offered to teach Eddie how to ice skate. And it felt… nice. It had been a while since Steve had that with anyone.
Max just moves on, reminding Steve of which stretches he needs to do now that he’s in his gear, and the coach and captain both give speeches in the locker room, before everyone moves out to the rink. They take the ice as the announcer reads off their name, and Steve taps his stick with the right wing who stakes up next to him.
He glances around, chewing on his mouth guard absently. A part of him knows that Robin and Eddie and whoever else from CC made the trip to the game are in one of the boxes around the upper level of the area, but he hadn’t asked which one when he had briefly texted with Eddie this morning, and now it was too late. But, he figures it’s probably for the best. Not knowing where to look keeps him from running the risk of sparking more speculation about nothing.
______
Even having heeded Steve’s warning to wear layers to the game, Eddie is freezing. He’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt under a hoodie under a leather jacket, but he’s still cold. And Robin is bouncing around the box suite in a t-shirt and ripped jeans, looking perfectly comfortable and Eddie doesn’t get it. He zips his leather jacket all the way up and sinks into his seat, bobbing his head along to the music echoing through the arena.
“You’re going to be cold when we’re leaving if you don’t take something off.” Robin chastises, and Eddie just rolls his eyes. Jeff, Freak and Lucas are chatting, sitting in the seats just outside of the box. Inside the box, Gareth looks just as cold as Eddie, chatting with Nancy and Will on a sofa.
Paige returns a few minutes later with a bag of merchandise, courtesy of a voucher from the team, and drops it on Gareth’s lap. “Hoodie for you,” She declares, pulling out a black hoodie with the Blackhawks logo and throwing it into Gareth’s face. “Hoodie for you,” She adds, tossing a red one in Eddie’s direction. She pulls two more thinner zip ups out of the bag and drops them on Jeff and Freak’s heads. When she comes back in, she locks eyes with Eddie, who pauses as he unzips his leather jacket.
“What?” He asks, cautiously, and she grins.
“Got something else for you,” She says, and he’s instantly concerned.
“You’re freaking me out.” Eddie points out as he slips the hoodie he’d worn over his head and replaces it with the fleece-lined red hoodie with “Blackhawks” written across the back shoulders. Robin claps and jumps up and down beside him, concerning him further.
“They put one aside!?” She asks, and Paige nods, before tossing the rest of the bag to Eddie.
When he pulls out the contents, he can’t help but let out a little laugh. “You guys asked them to give me a Harrington jersey?” He raises an eyebrow at Robin, before pulling it over his head. It fits a little loose over the hoodie, but looks similar to how he’d seen other people wear theirs.
“Steve doesn’t know, but I asked. Figured you might like it.” She says, grinning as he turns a light shade of pink he fully intends to blame on the cold.
When the team introductions start, Robin drags Eddie out into the seats just outside the box, so they have a better view. While it’s colder out there, Eddie’s warmer in the new tops, and finds he doesn’t mind it as much. 
Robin and the members of the Party in the box break into cheers when Steve skates out onto the ice, and Eddie can’t help the little smile that crosses his face as he watches Steve interact with his team.
The puck drops and Steve manages to slip it away from the Kraken’s center, gliding down the ice effortlessly before passing it off. It’s a tiny thing, trying to pay attention to the puck, so Eddie finds himself just tracking Steve as he zips and twists around. After a few minutes, Steve skates back to the Blackhawks box and jumps in as another player hits the ice.
“What happened? Is he hurt?” Eddie’s confused as he looks at Robin, who gives him a soft smile.
“He’s fine. They only play for so long, before they switch out to keep them from getting tired.”
He tries to pay attention to what’s happening then, with Steve off the ice, but finds himself watching the other sit along the bench. He bangs his stick against the wall a few times, shouting things Eddie can’t hear. When he gets up to go back into the game, he pats the player he’s replacing on the back before hitting the ice. 
The next chance he gets the puck, he takes a shot toward the goalie, who stops the puck between his legs. Steve keeps skating, zipping around and getting back into the action. He gets the puck back, but is quickly checked by two Krakens who send him into the boards hard. Eddie grimaces, and a penalty is called on both Krakens for charging.
Steve scores a goal in the second period, and Eddie joins the Party in cheering along. He spots himself on the big screen and grabs Robin, pulling her into frame as she jumps up and down. 
The celebrations die down a little, and Robin scooches closer to him. “I can have them knock it off, if you don’t want to be up there. Dustin’s in the booth right now.” She offers, and he shrugs.
“I don’t mind. I kind of expected it, after the TikTok blew up.” He shrugs, tracking Steve back around the ice.
Blackhawks end up winning the game, 5-2, and while Steve doesn’t score again, he assists in each of the following goals. Each time, he has a different celebration with whoever he set up for the goal, and it’s sweet to watch Steve goof off, to hear his friends' excitement as he succeeds.  Walking back out of the booth, Eddie feels like his voice is more raw from screaming at the hockey game than it was from last night’s concert. 
_____________
“You shouldn’t skip the ice bath, Steve, you took a hard hit into that wall.” Max is lecturing as they move through the arena to where she says everyone is waiting. 
“I’m fine, I’ve taken worse hits and I stretched plenty. My shoulder just dug into the pad wrong. I’ll have a bruise, but it’s fine.” He insists, holding the door open for her then following her into the box where chaos immediately erupts.
Mike and Lucas are bouncing around, gushing about how great he played. Steve laughs, squeezing Lucas’ shoulder and ruffling Mike’s hair, before his eyes land on the band. They’re all wearing fresh Blackhawks gear, and Steve can’t help but grin.
“Oh man, I’m so glad you guys were able to come! Did you have a good time?” He asks, moving closer to them.
“Dude, I fucking love hockey. I haven’t been to a game in forever, this was sick. And you were killing it out there. I think I like hockey even more knowing someone who is playing.” Freak says, and Gareth nods along.
“Hockey is the only sport I’d ever really been interested in, so this was fun! Great game.”
“I have never had an interest in hockey before, but it was still cool to learn about.” Jeff admits, and then Steve turns to Eddie. His hands are tucked up inside the sleeves of the jersey, nestled in the front pocket of the hoodie beneath, but he grins.
“I concede, it was a lot more fun than I anticipated. I think it helps that you were awesome out there.”
Steve turns a soft shade of pink, shaking his head before nodding back toward the door out of the box. “Want to grab dinner with us? I’m starving.”
______________
They’re in some bar Steve texted the directions to but Eddie can’t remember the name, when he catches Steve staring at him from his spot between Dustin and Lucas. Eddie raises an eyebrow and waves a little, which seems to snap Steve out of it. He blushes and waves back, before covering his face with his hands. Eddie snorts, before getting up and moving so he’s sitting across from Steve.
“You weren’t mad that I put you up on the big screen, right? I think the team actually put it up on socials at some point, so I hope you didn’t mind.” Dustin rambles at Eddie as soon as he sits, but he’s quick to ease the kid’s concerns.
“It was fun. Don’t worry about it, kid. Really.” He says, watches Dustin visibly relax, but then Robin carts him and Lucas away, giving Steve and Eddie space and tossing a wink in Eddie’s direction. Eddie finds himself growing to appreciate her more and more. “I really did have a good time tonight. Cross my heart.” Eddie says, before drawing an “x” over his heart with his fingers.
Steve laughs, and opens his mouth to say something before he seems to reconsider. He thinks for a moment, before leaning over the table. “Are you wearing my jersey?”
Eddie pauses for a moment, looks down and laughs. He’d forgotten he hadn’t taken it off, and Robin had said that Steve didn’t know about it. “I mean, it’s technically not yours. Just has your name and number on it.”
Steve squints his eyes before he leans back and takes a sip of his beer. Eddie seizes the opportunity to be chaotic, then, decides to take the leap. “I mean, I totally could be wearing your jersey, if you wanted me to. But you’re going to have to take me out of this one first.” 
It’s worth it, if for no other reason than Steve starts choking on his drink, coughing loudly and drawing everyone’s attention. He composes himself quickly, but his face is still bright red, and Eddie grins.
“You’re a menace.” Steve accuses, voice hoarse and thick, and Eddie shrugs.
“What are you going to do about it?” He challenges.
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I'm going to try reblogging with a tag list this week because it's LONG and I have no idea how else to try to make it work without hitting a character limit. Thank you to everyone who is still reading! I've got so many ideas for this bouncing around in my head, I can't wait to flesh them out and I hope you continue to enjoy!
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