#Fanfare Records
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Do you have a clip of Cloud humming the victory fanfare?
SPOILERS FOR FF7 REBIRTH!!!!!
anyway... here you go bestie
#excuse the shitty audio quality i was recording with my laptop screen recorder T-T#ff7 rebirth spoilers#ff7#ffvii#final fantaxy vii#cloud strife#HE'S JUST A LIL GUY#i saved this video under the name âhe's just a baby!!!!â#because yeah. what a dork.#agni of wisdom#more spoilers but the victory fanfare does get sung by at least another character and i keep getting a kick out of it#i love it when this type of stuff happens
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Why do I feel like the next era is coming sooner than I expect?
#taylor swift#like obviously we know sheâs been working on new music#I expect her to take a decent break between the end of tour and whatever is next#I feel like the last two re-recordings will come with some fanfare but not too much#but I feel like ts12 is almost done/ready to go whenever and that is scary
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Iâve been in a gifting mood lately instead of a pranking moodâŠ
Apparently the unbirthday spirit is strong in me right now! đȘđ„ł
Iâve already gifted the sneky-snek man soâŠ
*chuckles at my description for Azul* I havenât really interacted with him yet⊠HeeheeheeâŠ
#vote now!#for the unbirthday bomb! ïżœïżœïżœ#*kazoo fanfare*#and for the record - the people in question are absolutely allowed to vote for themselves!#this democracy runs on clown rules#and no Iâm not the clown#the clown would be that guy *points to my right*#*Dire Crowley looks up from where he was sleeping at his desk completely bewildered* What?#cheânya meows#twst rp#cheânya rp
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LuckyâStar OST - Filna Fatansy - Piano Tutorial
đ„This is a #synthesia #tutorial of âFilna Fatansyâ from #luckystar
đChapters 0:00 Part A 0:57 Part B 1:17 Part C 1:55 Part D 2:34 Part E
đDescription âFilna Fantasyâ is a background music track from the anime LuckyâStar. Itâs featured in the scenes where Konata Izumi, one of the main characters, is playing an MMORPG in the series. The game she plays is a parody of Final Fantasy XI, and the music adds to the comedic and immersive experience of the show.
đ»Source â¶Anime: Lucky Star
đčSheet music â¶Patreon: patreon.com/ZamboGirlPiano I accept song request in Patreon
Subscribe and like if you want to see more tutorials. Leave a comment to help the channel ~ Bye
#lucky#lucky star#~filna fantasy - lucky star~ fingerstyle guitar tab#filna fatansy#filna#my lucky stars#lucky star - tsukasa's recorder (original)#fatansy#lucky star ost#luckystar#final fantasy#konata#final fantasy xiv#fantasy#konata's#filmfans#italianfilm#konata izumi#tattatakataa#konata fuutsu#konata's theme#leo animated film#star#hata#nanako#guitar#fanfare#konachan#guitar pro#animation
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me: im fine i dont have a chronic illness the doctors are lying
me: *stands up and gets sent to the shadow realm for at least 10 seconds*
#not sure exactly how long but it was at least that long#because the microwave had stopped beeping by the time i was back#I have not been able to lift my head up for 8 hours idk why I thought I could just stand with no fanfare or groveling#anyway#for the record I have a diagnosed chronic illness#idk why itâs been 5 years and Iâm still like no :) Iâm fine :)
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Trygve Seim and Frode Haltli share sustained notes and drones on their new album Our Time, which is sometimes redolent of the bal-musette and other times more misty or far-flung like on âArabian Tangoâ and âImprovisation No. 2 / Shyama Sundara Madena Mohanaâ. The accordion might sound like a distant train whistle but the mood here is never mechanical, like a phantom steam engine with billowing features that moves as though suspended from its tracks, before wafting up into the air in one thick curlicue of smoke. Sometimes those two sides, vaporous and fanciful, come together to magical effect like through the short puffs and tremolos at the close of âImprovisation No. 1 / Fanfareâ where Seimâs soprano saxophone soars to aching heights.
https://culturedarm.com/trygve-seim-frode-haltli-our-time/
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Idolize 2.23.24 Neptune Theatre | Seattle, WA
#flashing#flashing lights#tw flashing#dorian electra#idolize#fanfare#live#performance#concert#neptune theatre#live show#my video#i accidentally stopped recording both times so i just sliced the two videos togetherđ
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wweugh
#vent#Iâm. so so tired of this.#Iâm sleeping downstairs on my fucking couch again#my parents get up at 6 to work and my mom has decided that the entire living room is her office. and she takes calls.#for context there are fucking âšbugsâš in my mattress. Again.#have to handle it all myself bc the last two times my parents brushed it off and told me to clean my room before they let#any pest control ppl take a look#so Iâve esssntially been living. w/ bugs. in my mattress. for like. 3-4 years now.#no wonder I feel so fucking disgusting all the time.#for the record I thought they were gone??? but NOPE! đ#wuehgjgmg#parents wonât help either bc theyâre jsut going to be saying the same fucking shit#and itâs not like my room is horribly messy either#im also really peeved bc they found ants in their bathroom onceâ Immediately called up the pest control ppl#dealt w/ it immediately#no fanfareâ and they didnât come back#whatever#but yeah Iâm here sleeping on the couch getting the worst sleep of my life#while I have to deal w/ this alone#anyways#itâs. itâs fine. whatever. fuck.
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Non-Britons! Instead of being distracted by the pomp and fanfare of the coronation, hereâs a reminder that:
The coronation was funded by tax-payer money. This same tax could have gone towards the cost of living crisis. People are starving and freezing to death as this is going on.
Protests (peaceful or otherwise) are illegal now. A lot of anti-monarchists are being arrested for simply holding signs.
Our government is currently trying to push through a revision to the Equality Act that will exclude trans and non-binary individuals.
Oil companies have made a record profit in the past couple of years. Oil and gas prices arenât rising because of an inflation issue.
Our NHS is crumbling because funding is going to stupid projects like this coronation.
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can i request charles leclerc x singer!reader when reader is basically taylor swift and their relationship is like her and travis kelce đ„čđ„č also charles telling his fellow drivers but they dont believe him until THE taylor swift!reader is in the paddock kissing him
IF ITS NOT TOO MUCH HASSLE OFC
Charles Leclerc x pop star!Reader - Social Media AU
kymillman
Liked by charles_leclerc, y/nupdates, and 492,815 others
kymillman Y/N MAKES HER PADDOCK DEBUT
Miss Americana arrives at the Circuit of the Americas and receives no less fanfare than the drivers themselves. Y/N Y/L/N will be singing The Star-Spangled Banner before the race later today!
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leclercbae this was only posted two minutes ago and charles has already managed to like it? must be a new record even for him
enchantedtifosa the devil works hard but charles ây/n y/l/nâs biggest fanâ leclerc works harder đ«Ą
leclercupdates did anyone else see the video of charles spotting y/n walking into the paddock as he was exiting the ferrari motorhome?
f1girlie he turned around to go back inside so fast that the automatic door didnât even have time to open and he slammed his forehead into the glass đ
scuderialeclerc charles is trying (and failing miserably) to hide that heâs fangirling harder than anyone has ever fangirled before
y/nupdates
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y/nupdates Y/N Y/L/N attending the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix as a guest of Scuderia Ferrari today
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lightsoutleclerc crossover of the freaking year
fearlessferrari decade
tifositwilight century
leclercmidnights millennium
f1wagupdates how crazy would it be if the rumors are true and y/n really is at the race because sheâs dating charles?
mirrorballeclerc being delulu is the solulu but even my delulu has limits đ
f1wagupdates well it seems that my delulu is actually trululu
f1wagupdates
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f1wagupdates This week one year ago, Charles Leclerc attended The Eras Tour as a fan just like the rest of us. Today, Charles Leclerc proudly kissed Y/N Y/L/N after winning the Azerbaijan Grand Prix. King of our hearts and king of manifesting đ
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charles_leclerc what if i told you iâm a mastermind? and now youâre mine
yourusername what if i told you none of it was accidental? and the first night that you saw me i knew i wanted your body
charles_leclerc once upon a time, the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned
yourusername you and i ended up in the same room at the same time
f1wagupdates i have managed to run this account for five years without getting jealous but this might be my breaking point
tifositears god really saw how much pain ferrari was putting charles through and decided to make his biggest dream come true as an apology
formurrari he deserved it after 2023
charles_leclerc and i would suffer through another season of driving the SF-23 and every single horrible strategy call again if it meant getting to call y/n my own
yourusername i love you đ„č
charles_leclerc i love you more â€ïž
yourusername i love you most đ«¶
charles_leclerc i love you mostest đ
landonorris OKAY WE GET IT
charles_leclerc be nice to me or iâll tell y/n to take away your tickets to her next show
landonorris ⊠carry on
pierregasly also king of never shutting up about his girlfriend
charles_leclerc and proud of it
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#social media au#charles leclerc#instagram au#instagram imagine#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 blurb#f1 fluff#f1 instagram au#instagram edit#fake instagram#f1 fandom#formula 1#insta edit#f1blr#f1 edit
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Blue Swede - Hooked on a Feeling 1973
"Hooked on a Feeling" is a 1968 pop song, written by Mark James and originally performed by B.J. Thomas. Thomas's version featured the sound of the electric sitar (played by Reggie Young) and reached No. 5 in 1969 on the Billboard Hot 100.
In 1973, the Swedish poprock group Blue Swede did a cover version, which included the ooga chaka introduction from a 1971 cover by Jonathan King. King had heard Johnny Preston's "Running Bear", which was the inspiration for the ooga chaka chant. This version reached number one in the US in 1974.
In 1992, Blue Swede's recording was featured on the soundtrack of Quentin Tarantino's debut feature Reservoir Dogs.
In the mid-90's, the Dancing Baby "sk_baby.max" model became one of the first viral memes. The animation was also shown on several episodes of the 1998 legal comedy-drama series Ally McBeal as a recurring hallucination, suggesting a metaphor for the ticking of Ally's biological clock, and was accompanied by Blue Swede's "Hooked on a Feeling". Various commercial advertisements presented the Dancing Baby animation to international markets continuing the mainstream media attention. This particular manifestation of the video, bound to the song, is widely distributed and referred to as the "Ooga Chaka Baby", further cementing the scene in pop culture history.
The 2014 film Guardians of the Galaxy, which featured the brass fanfare and title lyrics of the Blue Swede cover version prominently in its trailers and theatrical release, resulted in a significant spike in sales for the recording; the film's soundtrack reached the top of the Billboard 200 chart in August 2014. The song was also featured in the teaser trailer for the 2017 sequel, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2.
Blue Swede's frontman is singer/actor Björn Skifs. He did the Swedish dub of Woody in the first two Toy Story movies, as well as singing in stead of Phil Collins in the Swedish dub of Brother Bear.
"Hooked on a Feeling" received a total of 81,9% yes votes!
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Marriage Fraud
John MacTavish and Kyle Garrick had gotten married at 15:00 on a Tuesday afternoon in October. There was little fanfare; the civil ceremony took place in the Register Office closest to base with Price and Gazâs sister as witnesses. They had signed their names on the dotted lines with a flourish, had kissed each other through crooked, boyish grins, and that had been that.
John MacTavish and Kyle Garrick hadnât dated for a single day prior to their nuptials, with the exception of a week-long drunken bet during basic that both of them had been too stubborn to back out of, and their engagement had lasted the legally-required 28 days. It was marriage fraud, plain and simple; the two men had met in basic training and had forged a brotherhood in between grueling days and sporadic nights, and then the pact was formed. Both of them had gotten thoroughly sick and tired of living in the barracks and relying on mess hall food and, without any long-term significant others to pop the question to, they had decided to take matters into their own hands. When they both passed SAS selection, both setting new records, it had seemed like a sign.
The marriage pact had been Kyleâs idea, so Johnny had been the one to propose, if his half-slurred, half-asleep suggestion could even be called a proposal, but Gaz had readily agreed and the next morning, they had burst into Priceâs office, demanding both his blessing and presence at the ceremony. His eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline and he had nearly choked to death on his cigar smoke, but he had agreed to both nonetheless.
That had been over three years ago.
In the three years since, as they climbed the ranks from Private to Corporal to Sergeant, the topic of their marriage hardly ever came up. They wore their respective rings, both made from recycled bullet casings, on their right hands instead of their left, and they never mentioned it to anyone. If anyone wondered how they had gotten permission to live off base or why they commuted to work more often than not, no one ever thought to ask them, and they never volunteered any answers. They shared their house like roommates, respecting both each otherâs privacy and dating lives, which were few and far between. Dating in the military was hard enough without being Spec Ops, so any relationship either of them ever had never lasted long enough for their fake marriage to ever be remotely close to an issue.
And then the 141 was formed.
It was a dream come true for both of them. They had both already been SAS under Priceâs command, but the specialization of the task force brought a certain job security that ensured their continued cohabitation. The SASâs base of operations was in Herefordshire, so thatâs where Soap and Gaz had bought their house, but there had always been the threat of relocation to any of the other British Army bases across the world, and there was no guarantee that they would have been transferred together. The 141, however, was a cohesive unit, a permanent placement. Wherever one went, the rest were sure to follow.
The task force also brought Ghost.
At first, Johnny hadnât given Ghost much thought, especially where his fake marriage was concerned. Ghost didnât seem the type to concern himself overmuch with the personal details of his teammates, up to and including their sexual orientations, living situations, or marital statuses. He himself lived off base, courtesy of being a commissioned officer rather than enlisted, and never seemed to devote a first thought, much less a second one, to Soap and Gazâs own off-base housing. More often than not, they were in the field anyway, which limited nearly every avenue of personal conversation and, after nearly four years of their marriage being little more than a technical detail on a form somewhere, both Soap and Gaz often forgot that they were even married in the first place.
So Soap didnât think much of it when he started flirting with Ghost over the comms. Ghost was a scary son of a bitch, but that had always been his type, and he couldnât deny that the mask did something for him. Hell, everything about Ghost did something for him. It had started as banter, really, but Soap loved to toe the line, and it was a slippery slope that he was all too eager to throw himself down. What was truly shocking was Ghostâs own willingness to play along. And then the flirting turned into⊠more. Turned into casual physical touch that Ghost wouldâve slit anyone elseâs throat for even thinking about initiating, turned into whispered promises in the backs of helos before missions, turned into kisses pressed into gloved knuckles and masked cheeks.
And suddenly, Soap realized that his marriage might be an issue.
His relationship with Ghost, while technically undefined, was by far the most serious and potentially long-lasting relationship heâd had since signing his marriage license. Most of the people he had dated over the years hadnât been military and had quickly grown tired of the inconsistency, the missed birthdays and anniversaries, the lack of communication while heâd been on mission, and the lack of leave time in general. But not Ghost, because Ghost got it. Half of the time, Ghost was right there in the field with him. There wasnât any inconsistency with them, no lack of leave time to grumble over, no shortage of communication between them, both in person and over comms. Their relationship worked for exactly the same reasons why his and Gazâs non-relationship had worked for so long: they both understood.
And suddenly, Soap realized that, after four years of hiding a marriage to his best friend in the world from quite literally everyone he knew, heâd have to fess up. Not only that, heâd have to file for divorce, which was something that neither he nor Gaz had taken into consideration when they had signed their names in the Register Office all those years ago.
It all came to a head when Johnny got injured in the field. Nothing major, just a few broken bones and a hell of a concussion, but he had woken up to Gaz and Ghost sitting on either side of his hospital bed, Gazâs clear contrition only matched by Ghostâs clear confusion. The first question out his mouth was why Gaz was listed as Soapâs next of kin and emergency contact, which snowballed into a full confession, corroborated by Price when he stuck his head in to check on Soap a few minutes later.
Ghost, after recovering from his initial shock, found the entire situation hilarious and, months later, after both the divorce papers and the new notice of marriage had gone through, took delight in calling himself Johnnyâs second husband, which never failed to make any rookie caught eying the sergeant shake in their boots at the thought of what someone like Ghost did to Johnnyâs first husband. Soap and Gaz still wore their rings, because they had always been more like friendship bracelets than anything else, and Johnnyâs left ring finger was quickly occupied by a silver ring made from one of Simonâs ID Discs.
Gaz was disappointed about having to move back into on-base housing, but it didnât last long because Price had been waiting for four years for his sergeants to figure their shit out and file for divorce so that he could make his move and he wasnât about a waste a single second. And if anyone accused them of moving too quickly, well⊠they were all military men, after all.
#call of duty#cod#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#john price#fake relationship#gazprice#tombstone's ficlets#might write a full fic about this but I doubt it#the idea just got stuck in my head and I had to release it#tombstone's epitaphs
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Slick Sunday post for @lexirosewrites !! I decided to just post it like this since this is probably going to be long. I do promise it has christmas in it but thereâs a build up to that. Also very minor TW for child abuse. Itâs less than a sentence but still. And also, this is canon up till s4, I donât really know how different it is, the important thing is that Chrissy lived and Eddie didnât get eaten as much as he does in canon.
âââââ
It starts in 1987. Itâs late November, Steve has unofficially taken over his house since he hasnât spoken to his parents in so long he doesnât even remember. Eddie and Robin are over helping him decorate their tree. Theyâre all wearing ugly sweaters and pajamas. Steve and Eddie had just started officially courting, while Robin and Chrissy were still dancing around each other. She was in the middle of lamenting her latest failed attempt to ask her out when the front door opens and the Harringtons enter. A fight breaks out pretty quickly and it culminates in a few smashed ornaments, Steve getting slapped, Eddie being literally sat on by Robin to keep him calm, and Steve being told his things needed to be gone by the next day. Heâs told that his behavior is not that of a Harrington.
And then theyâre gone.
Eddie forces Robin off of him so he can hold Steve, and she goes to call Hopper. He and Steve had been close before Starcourt and since he came back last year theyâre reconnected. (Steve calls him dad behind his back, heâs too scared to say it to Hopâs face yet.)
Hop shows up a few minutes later, only to be followed by one very angry Claudia Henderson. She explains that El had called Dustin on the walkie about the phone call she overheard and Claudia left right away.
They both start helping him pack once they know heâs okay and they all go to Hopâs cabin for dinner. While theyâre eating Steve casually mentions that he wants to change his name. What he thought would be a casual comment with little fanfare resulted in Claudia baring her teeth at Hop as they argued over who got to bring Steve into their family officially. It would be scarier if Steve wasnât ready to cry from how loved it makes him feel. He does eventually have to burst their bubble and tell them he wants to be a Buckley. This does get Hop and Claudia to calm down but it also gets Steve tackled off his chair by Robin in a hug.
Fast forward, itâs now the mid 90s. Chrissy and Robin live in the brownstone next to Eddie and Steve in Chicago. Steve and Eddie got married two years ago and earlier that fall they had learned Steve was pregnant. They had so far only told Robin and Chrissy, but that was because Steve was at home while Eddie was at work and he begged Robin to come with him to buy tests. Both Eddie and Steve knew it was time to tell everyone else, since he had just finished the first trimester and with christmas coming up they decided to go with the most cliche announcement possible.
The four of them go back to Hawkins for the holidays. Robin and Chrissy are staying at the Buckleyâs and Eddie and Steve are staying at Hopâs cabin.
The first person they tell is Wayne. They have dinner with him for christmas eve and then over dessert exchange presents. Eddie gets a new set of steel toed boots and Steve gets a new coat. Then they hand Wayne his gift and Eddie grabs their camcorder to record his reaction. Inside is a new baseball hat placed upside down with something balled up inside it. Wayne takes the cloth out and flips the hat around, freezing as he reads it, then quickly dropping it and picking up what is now clearly a onesie. In bold letters the onesie says âGrandpaâs Fishinâ Buddyâ. The hat says âGrandpa is my name, Fishing is my gameâ. Wayne, still gripping the onesie in his hands looks up at them with wet eyes.
âIs this⊠Iâm gonna be a grandpa?â
Eddie canât stop smiling behind the camera and he turns it slightly to catch Steve as he smiles at Wayne, giving little jazz hands as he says, âsurprise.â
Eddie just barely pans back to Wayne to catch him standing up to pull Steve into a hug.
âIâm so happy for you two. Ed, you better put that thing down and get in here.â
âââ
The next people they tell are the Hendersonâs. While Dustin will also be at Hopâs that night, Steve had wanted to be able to see his mom for christmas so for years they had been doing brunch at the Hendersonâs before the three guys go to Hopâs and Claudia goes to get some extra hours working at the hospital.
They show up right on time with their gifts and enjoy breakfast before itâs present time. Dustin gets the new Dungeons and Dragons book that had just come out and a new set of dice that looked like the night sky. Steve gets a new cookbook and a scarf. Eddie gets a scarf as well as a new toolbox for work. Then Steve hands over the gift bag to Claudia, but before she opens it he turns to Dustin while Eddie gets the camcorder again.
âDustin, I need you to promise me, right now, that what you see right now will not be told to anyone today. Got it?â
Dustin rolls his eyes as he responds, âDude, itâs just a gift-â
âDustin. Promise me,â Steve interjects.
After they stare at each other for another 30 seconds Dustin gives a dramatic sigh and promises. With that done Steve gives Claudia the okay to open her gift. She takes out the tissue paper and pulls a folded up sweatshirt and a folded canvas bag out. The bag is unfolded first and Claudia gasps, quickly unfolding the sweater and then dropping them both to rush over to hug Steve.
âOh, Iâm so happy for you! My baby!â Claudia is crying as she and Steve hold each other tight, Steve laughing with pure joy. Eddie catches Dustin standing up out of the corner of his eye and refocuses the camera on him, following him as he goes over and picks up the items his mom dropped. The bag says âGrandmaâs Magic Bagâ and the sweatshirt says âWorldâs Best Grandmaâ. Dustin stares at them and then heâs shouting.
âYou guys are having a pup?!â
Eddie just grins at him over the camera as he asks, âYou ready to be Uncle Dustin?â Eddie then barely keeps the camera from breaking as Dustin rushes him in a hug.
âââ-
Their final present is that evening at Hopâs. Steve is drinking hot cider and curled into Eddieâs side on the couch, Robin right next to him with a hand on his ankle, Chrissy on her other side laughing as Max shares a story about college. Steve looks around the room and sees Dustin already staring at him, practically vibrating in his seat. Itâs clear that heâs doing his best to not spill the beans so Steve huffs a laugh and claps to get everyoneâs attention.
âAlright, present time?â
The next minute or so is a rush of movement as everyone finds a spot and grabs their gifts, Steve holding tight to his gift for Hop. Eddie had El help him hide the camera earlier so she can turn it on without giving anything away.
Presents are passed around and opened. Max gave Steve a new poster for his classroom, and Robin got him the fancy desk organizer set he had been looking at for months. Mike got Eddie new patches for his work coveralls and Will gave them a beautiful painted version of their wedding photo. (Steve does tear up over it but tries to cover up as best he can, stupid pup hormones).
Then Steve stands and hands Hop his bag, giving El a wink as he walks past her and he sees her squint her eyes for a breath before giving him a wink back. Steve settles back in to Eddieâs side and gives Hop the go ahead. He pulls out what is clearly a mug wrapped in tissue paper with a hat stuffed into it. Hop takes the hat out first and looks at it, his face unreadable, before he sets it down with the words hidden. He quickly takes off the tissue paper and reads the mug. His face is still blank but everyone can see his eyes filling with tears as he makes eye contact with Steve.
Eddie gives Steve a little nudge and thatâs all it takes for him to get up and go hug his dad, being wrapped up in his arms as Hop cries. After a beat where itâs still silent Hop speaks, looking over at Eddie. âYears ago, I thought I would never get to be a grandpa.â Steve just hugs him tighter and the room around them erupts as everyone starts screaming. Eddie gets dog piled by the boys, excluding Dustin who has collapsed on the floor from the relief of not having to hide that anymore. Steve feels two people wrap around him from behind and glancing at their arms he sees that itâs El and Max, both hugging him. When everyone has calmed more Steve goes back to sit with Eddie, who can now place his hand on Steveâs stomach. Hop sits down and finally shows everyone his gifts. The mug has a sheriffâs badge and it says âChief Grampsâ and the hat says âProfessional Grandpopâ. Hop puts it on his head that night and refuses to take it off.
âââââââ
Et viola. Also, this is Wayneâs hat because I love it so much:
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#platonic stobin#robin buckley#GRANDPARENTS GIFTS!!!#my beliefs on the names for all the grandparents:#wayne is gramp or grandpa claudia is grammy and hopper is grandpop or papa#also steve does change his name again when he and eddie get married but he gives himself another middle name so he can keep buckley#eddie knew that steve needed robin when he first says he wants to change his name which is why he doesnât offer up munson#steveâs parents dont know about the name change and they only find out when they get a christmas card in the mail the following year#it has no return address and only says âthe munsonsâ so they cant be easily looked up#eddie tells hop and wayne about the card and they both laugh so hard they nearly choke#robin is also 1000% loving that decision
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could you do fluff prompt #27 with woozi đ„č maybe a birthday related one since its his bday (you might see this past his bday but thats okay! ><)
oh no, I'm late đđđ but hopefully, I did this prompt justice for jihoon!!!! thank you for requesting đ«¶đ«¶
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // jihoonâs m.list
fluff prompt #27: "did you plan this whole day just to make me happy?"
jihoon wasnât one for elaborate birthday celebrations. if it were up to him, heâd spend the day in the studio or curled up with a book, far from the fanfare. but you had other plansâand somehow, he found himself being pulled into them.
âwhy are we here?â he asked, eyeing the quaint record shop youâd led him to.
âyou canât tell me you wouldnât want to be here,â you said, holding the door open for him. âbesides, i thought itâd be fun to pick out something new for your collection.â
jihoon didnât argue, though he tried to hide the faint flicker of excitement. he wandered through the aisles, his fingers brushing over album covers as he let out a soft hum of approval.
âyouâre stalling,â you teased, nudging him gently. âwhatâs caught your eye?â
he finally pulled out a vinyl, glancing at the cover before turning it in his hands. âthis oneâs a classic,â he muttered, almost to himself.
âthen itâs yours,â you said easily, taking it from him to pay at the counter.
âyou donât have toââ he started, but you shot him a look that silenced him.
âdonât ruin the moment, jihoon,â you teased, and he felt his lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile.
the next stop was a small café tucked away in a quiet corner of the city.
âwhy here?â he asked as you both settled into a table by the window.
âbecause they have a build-your-own drink option,â you said, sliding the menu toward him.
jihoon raised a brow. âyou think iâm going to do that?â
âyouâre picky,â you replied, grinning. âthought youâd appreciate the control.â
he couldnât argue with that. after some coaxing, he found himself picking out ingredients, customizing a drink to his exact liking. when it arrived, he took a sip and let out a soft hum of approval.
âgood?â you asked, watching him with a smile.
âbetter than i expected,â he admitted, surprising himself.
âsee? trust me more,â you said, leaning back in your chair with a triumphant grin.
the last stop was the city observatory, where you led him up a winding staircase to a quiet viewing platform. the city stretched out below, its lights twinkling like scattered stars.
jihoon leaned against the railing, his eyes scanning the skyline. âyou really planned all this?â
âmaybe,â you said, standing beside him.
âwhy?â he asked, though the answer was already starting to form in his mind.
you hesitated, your voice soft as you finally said, âitâs your birthday, jihoon. i just thought you deserved something special.â
he blinked, caught off guard by how easily you said it.
âdid you plan this whole day just to make me happy?â
you fiddled with the hem of your jacket, your gaze on the city below. â...maybe.â
jihoon stared at you for a moment, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions he didnât know how to name.
âyou didnât have to do all this,â he said quietly, his voice more tender than usual.
âi know,â you replied, finally looking at him. âbut i wanted to.â
he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk. ânext time, letâs skip the record shop and cafĂ© and just come straight here.â
âoh?â you tilted your head, your eyes narrowing playfully. âwhy? did i make it too exhausting for you?â
he shook his head, his smirk softening into something more genuine. âno. i just like spending time with you. and maybe... next time, we can stay a little longer. just us.â
you blinked, and then a small, knowing smile spread across your face. âare you trying to tell me something, jihoon?â
âmaybe,â he said, leaning forward slightly, his voice low and teasing.
you laughed, the sound bright and warm, and jihoon found himself smiling too, his chest light and full all at once.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#fanfic#seventeen x reader#woozi fluff#woozi imagines#woozi fanfic#woozi seventeeseventeen woozi#woozi x reader#jihoon seventeen#seventeen jihoon#jihoon fluff#jihoon imagines#jihoon fanfic#jihoon x reader#daisymbin: reqs#daisymbin jihoon requests
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Donât blame me for this one, you guys voted for something diabolical.
= = = = =
The references were esoteric. In fact, I had to hide my true research from the university, under the guise of reclassifying âritualisticâ items. The irony did not escape me. I was actually looking to access a âritualisticâ item that was classified as mundane.Â
Legends spoke of a god of flesh. One that manipulates the body as one would manipulate clay. Its name has long since been lost to time, but there are echoes of his work in the myths of old. We often hear of a creator god shaping man from the earth, of half-human hybrids and giants and other such peculiarities. Glimpses of this god of flesh. I had only read into such a figure from a blog by happenstance. A miracle of probability.Â
I eyed the needle, now in my hand. It was unassuming but carried a supernatural weight to it, like the weight of time immemorial. I grinned, practically moaned as I pricked my finger with the needle.Â
I expected some sort of magical fanfare, maybe a gust of wind but found none. I stared at my hands and then I noticed it. My hands. My flesh. I could feel all of it. I stared intently as I pinched the skin above my finger, I willed the pleat to hold its shape and smiled. I was ready.
- - - -Â
I thought through the myths, now partial realities in my head. Though I felt myself brim with power, I knew the drawbacks- there had to be a reason the myths had not made it to present day. The answer appeared in my head. There is only so much one man can do, and being giftedoften made one a target. A word echoed in my head. âProtectionâ. That did seem to match my records. Humans of old would change their flesh to be stronger, more resilient, adapting to every circumstance thrown at them. But the weakness persisted. One prick to channel the same power as the god of flesh, and another prick locks you from that power again. I smiled to myself. I just needed to getâŠÂ creative.Â
Joey Cooper was well-known around the college. A fifth year senior majoring in Sport Science. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he always meant well. He had an air of confidence to him that often aided his statuesque form. Despite this, something else drew my interest even further. His unattainability. The man was often called by his nickname âold faithful,â having been in a relationship with his girlfriend Britney for as long as any can remember. Guys and girls from all walks of life have tried to tempt âJuicy Joeâ (A nickname he wasnât aware of). None of have succeeded.Â
And then there was Charlie Cooper, his younger brother, a freshman with the face of an angel. He had unattainability in a different sense. Kind eyes and gentle curly locks framed a face that often wore a worried expression. Unlike his brother, he was timid, and a bit reserved. He had a lack of confidence that seemed to be a hindrance to his social life. Charlie would often shied away from conversation, despite others regularly visiting his dorm. Charlie roomed with Joey in the school dorms, a rarity for this campus. I overheard a conversation with Charlie once on this oddity. Beneath his unintelligible mumbling he mentioned something about being âfaithful to Britâ and getting Charlie âout of his shellâ.
I bit my lip thinking about the prospects.
â - - - - -
âOh hey Joey!â I waved casually as I approached a Joey returning to his dorm room, face flush and covered in a sheen. He must have just come from the gym. He was consistent with his workouts, so it was no surprise he would still be in campus after finals to get one last pump in.
âHey dude! Uh, sorry I donât remember names to wellâ. He replied back in a friendly manner. I shook my head at that.
âNo need to apologize. I donât think weâve ever formally met.â He looked back at me expectantly, hand outstretched to greet. I shook it as I continued. âMy nameâs gonna be Joey tooâ. He nodded and smiled politely but the manâs face couldnât hide his visible confusion.
I clung onto the lack of rejection on Joeyâs part as an invitation for myself. As he continued into his room, I followed, allowing the door to close behind us. The silence from the near empty dorm was deafening. He turned around, again making a polite smile. âUh hey againâŠÂ JoeyâŠÂ can I help you?â
I dropped all pretense, rushing to his bed and taking a whiff. âFuck dude, you smell so hotâ. Everything in the room carried a small sample of his scent. Like a gentle sweaty musk overlaid with his detergent. I looked to the sweaty Joey, inching closer and taking a whiff of his fresh personal scent. Divine. I felt my jaw unlock in a small moan. His post workout scent was like a concentrate of the pleasant musk I smelled before. Like raw testosterone and shallow breaths, and a hint of earthiness that exuded power. Juicy Joe. I was drunk on the scent, mind transfixed, until I caught him staring. He was starting to get upset.
âHey bro, you should probably lea-â He froze as he saw me extend a nerve out of my hand, like a red root outstretched into the air. âThe fuck?â
He began stepping back but as soon as my nerve landed on his arm, he struggled back into stillness. I smiled in euphoria as I felt every individual root of my vein burrow into his skin and connect with his. Checkmate. He watched as more and more of my nerve rooted into his flesh, screaming as he felt the violation to his sense of touch.Â
âNo one can hear you bro, itâs after finals, remember?â I twirled the needle in front of him before setting it on the table. âCanât have you taking a shower and removing your natural cologneâ. Joey was still frozen as he saw me begin to undress. Juicy Joe had a body brimming with power, and I knew it would burst at any moment. I took care as I undressed, rooting and unrooting my nerves, and making sure to always keep at least one red thread of control on him at all times.Â
Joey glared as he saw me finish placing my clothes in a neat pile on the floor. âYour turnâ.
âWhat the fuck dude!? What makes you think-â He was cut off as the red strings bridging our flesh began to writhe. In turn, he felt his meaty arms begin to move, and pull down his compression shorts. The feeling was altogether unfamiliar, as he felt his own flesh betray him and move to my will. I willed him to hand me the soaked shorts. Even with the power of the god of flesh on my side, I could feel Joey struggling for control through sheer willpower alone. I laughed a little in my head. There are other ways to break a man.Â
I brought his heavenly scented shorts up to my face, gorging myself on the potent raw musk of man. Like a pungent blast of earth and humidity and testosterone. A Joey-concentrate. I could practically feel the potency of it clawing at my nostrils. A sweat-laden Joey reeked in the best way. I must have been lost in pleasure, because my eyes refocused to his pleading face. âP-please man, just stop whatever this is. What do you want?â
I laughed. âIsnât it obvious? Itâs you. I want you. Every part of you.â
A few more nerves shot from my legs, and directly into his. With some new tethers in place, I pulled the threads connecting my arms to his, and quickly slipped under his sweaty workout shirt. I clung to his muscled chest for dear life. âBless these stretchy workout shirts,â I thought to myself. I felt along the ridges of his spine, across his shoulders which screamed power, and with my hands, I greedily caressed the flesh previously only touched by Britney. I gripped our embrace tighter. Joey was screaming and writhing, soaking the shirt further and my body in his struggle. I moaned as he screamed, as every turn and twist his body made also pushed my chest closer to his, confined by his own workout shirt. I sighed dreamily as his struggle compressed us closer together.
With the power of the needle, I made myself much more malleable and began to slip my arms to into the arm sleeves of his shirt. I spiraled them across his meaty biceps, possessively claiming every square inch of his flesh as my own. I did the same with my legs, wanting to bind us further.
The sight must have been bizarre- two men, naked from the waist down, both in the same sweaty workout shirt. And the smaller man, stretching and wrapping his arms and legs over the other.
âNow for some real funâ I stated, as I shot out as many of my nerves into him as I could. He screamed at the sensory assault as he fell unconscious. I merely continued rooting into him, relishing in being able to feel every inch of Mr. Unattainable. I slowly stumbled our bodies toward his mirror, making sure to have him grab his own phone.
= = = = =
When Joey came to, he saw my head hanging to the side in front of his, and his body enveloped by mine. He panicked when he saw more threads from my face rooted into his neck and mouth. âFuck Joey, I can feel how strong your lungs are. Even your breaths feel like a top jockâ I moaned.Â
Like raindrops, I felt his tears stream down his cheek and onto my face. âL-Let me go man. Look Iâm sorry for whatever I did to you. I swear I donât remember doing anything.â
I laughed callously. âNo need to apologize, bro. You havenât done anything to me. I just want you all to my own.â I brought his phone up to his face so he could see the name on the call screen. Britney.
âBabe?â She answered. âWhatâs up?â
âH-HEL-â He tried to holler. Instead, his neck swelled and throat strained as he my red thread began to writhe.Â
âJoey? Is everything all right?â She asked in a worried tone.
âFuck yeah it is,â Joeyâs mouth laughed, while his eyes showed fear. I continued to use him as my mouth piece. âYouâre so boring, Brit. Just called to tell you itâs over.â Tears began to well in his eyes. I could practically hear the tears in Britâs eyes over the phone.
âJoey⊠I. Is something wrong? You never call me Brit. I told you how my dad used toâŠâ She trailed, trying to rationalize the situation.
I continued the puppet show as Joeyâs eyes continued pleading with me. âNothingâs wrong, Babe. In fact, itâs finally all right over here.â He stated with a smile. Joeyâs eyes winced at the venom spewing from his mouth.
Joey grunted as he tried to stop his free hand from fondling my ass. âDo you know how many girls and guys wanted in these pants, Brit? Do you know how hard is to always turn someone down. They all want a piece of Juicy Joe.â
âI mean, yeah, I guess you mentioned it onceâŠâ She sniffled. âBut I thought we were fineâ said a choked up Britney.
âFuck no this isnât fine. Look at me. Iâm a fucking bull.â Joey was forced to say, while sticking his tongue out. I briefly stopped his hand from groping my cheek to force it into a biceps flex. He tried to squirm his head away but was ultimately forced to lick it and moan. I huffed and whispered in his ear. âI bet you taste fucking salty, Joey.âÂ
âBabe, whatâs wrong? You never talk about your body that-â
âBrit, just shut the fuck upâ. That seemed to shut her up. âAlways fucking whining tooâŠâ I made Joey huff. The upper half of his head was sobbing now. I forced his free hand back over my ass, and used his other hand to set the call to speaker. âItâs overâ.
Joey dropped the phone on the table- still mid call, as I willed his other hand to cup my other cheek. Squeeze. âFffuuuuckâ I moaned. âYouâre fucking mine, Joe.â Like his musculature, I commanded my cock into a malleable state, snaking over his, encircling it like a fleshy sleeve. Then, all at once, my red threads of control stirred, as Joey fucked his thick jock dick into my makeshift cocksleeve. âIâm fucking yoursâ. I made him say. My eyes fluttered in drunken bliss.
âJoey- who is that?â
I felt his head struggle as he tried to stop his body from growing hard. At this, I made sure he had full control of his cock. His plump ass cheeks tightened as his body was forced to thrust into me. I saw him wince, but we both felt the change. Even without me controlling it, his cock stirred to life.
I willed my flesh puppet to answer. âOh, him? Iâve been fucking him during this call, Brit. Thatâs how boring you are. Stupid too- weâve been fucking for months and you never noticedâ I make him say it to his reflection as well, topping it with a sleazy grin he never wore. I also made a point to moan, to force him to thrust his hardening dick into me in loud, boisterous grunts. âFuck. Brit. You. Never. Felt. This. Goodâ. I make him gasp in between breaths.Â
âSo youâre fucking him, right now?â She asked, now turning to anger.
âMmph⊠YESâ I let him shout, as I tightened my fleshy trap around his engorged dick and milk his seed dry. To add to the injury, I released control of his mouth at the same time, so in that moment, he felt himself scream bloody pleasure and coat my flesh in his juices.
âYOUâRE FUCKING DEAD TO ME,â Britney shouts, before hanging up.
Perhaps it was due to the pleasure, or the bombardment of his senses, or the sheer perversion of the situation, but Joeyâs eyes rolled back to its whites and his head slumped into my shoulder.Â
I basked in the moment, coated in the sweat and baby batter of Mr. Unattainable. Breathing in sync with his unconscious form. With his head still slung forward, I willed his upright form to give my ass another squeeze. âTake me, bro. Iâm your fucking meat puppet. Feel me. Use me. These muscles, this body. Itâs all yours. Iâm all yours.â I make Joey say. Mr. Unattainable wholly mine.
I kept him upright, facing the mirror without a care for how sore his post-workout body already was. I made sure he stirred awake, to still see himself playing and groping my fleshy form, bonded together supernaturally by the god of meat. He sobbed silently at our union.
With Joey whimpering and broken, I began to retreat into my original form, letting his arms and legs and chest free. All that connected our two naked bodies now was just a single thread of red. But just one thread was all I seemed to need. I no longer felt resistance from his body, as his sullen face just looked to me with defeat.Â
I made him reiterate my will. âIâm all yours,â Joey mumbles. I puppetted him to close the distance, and pull my back towards his abs. Joey did not resist as body grinded into mine. He clumsily grabbed my head for a sloppy kiss. And once again, I tasted and experienced something only Brit previously had. His tears smeared into my cheek as I started making him kiss me. My eyes fluttered closed as I was in ecstasy. True pleasure. His lips slowly pried mine open, then the tip of his tongue touching mine. In our deranged intimacy, I savored the taste of Joeyâs mouth and of his tongue now forced mine. I didnât want this to end. Joeyâs body pulled back from the kiss and began groping itself, repeating his new mantra. âIâm all yours.â
Still repeating his mantra, my eyes locked with his, before he grabbed the needle from the desk and pricked his hand with it. In that instant, I heard the door unlock.Â
What were the chances? Another miracle of probability. There was a single late final on campus, for an upper div class that freshmen rarely took. And yet, it seemed there was one freshman that did happen to take such a class.
Just my luck.Â
Charlie.
= = = = =
A two-parter. Could not for the life of me get usable photos of âJoeyâ in a compression shirt, so youâre gonna have to use a little imagination for that one haha.
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Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 1
Welcome to my other AU that I couldn't wait until September to show you all. I know, I know the closing ceremonies for the Olympics are tomorrow, which is another reason to get this in before all the fanfare dies.
Summary: When a freak accident at his third Olympics left him with migraines and a fear of deep water, Steve thought his Olympic dreams were deadâuntil delinquent Eddie Munson arrived at his pool to do community service. Steve witnesses Eddie's swimming talent and realizes his dreams don't have to be over. Now it's a race to get Eddie Olympic ready in two years. Steve's going for gold, but Eddie might have other interests in mind.
~I know I forgot to post the results of the poll regarding which time period to set this story in. But I got the notification on my phone while I was busy and by the time I got to my laptop, I forgot. And kept forgetting.
Most people wanted Eddie's Olympics to be in 2004 but after talking to people in the tags and comments, I decided on 2012 instead. Sorry about that.
~
Steve Harrington grew up with parents who pushed him hard in everything he did. He had to be the best at playing the piano, basketball, baseball, singing, formal dancing, and swimming. But of all those things Steve excelled at swimming the best. Because once he put his cap on over his ears, the roar of the crowd dimmed and then vanished the second he hit the water.
Those other things? Suddenly no longer mattered because Steve wasnât just good at swimming, he was brilliant. From when he first started competing when he was eleven there was always talk about the Olympics. Always the Olympics.
So it was something he was being pushed toward. World Championships and other competitions were just trials for the Olympics as far his father was concerned.
His father. Clint Harrington, who had never worked hard for anything in his life, who had his job handed to him by his dad, who was a raging, frat boy narcissist who drank his weight in alcohol before he was even twenty-one. Who collected guns but never shot one in his life and didnât even know how to load one. The man who decided that because his life was soft, his sonâs could not be.
When he got fifth at the Olympics at age fourteen everyone was amazed and even a little shocked. Clint Harrington was disappointed. Even though everyone knew that boys his age were still growing and changing and once he had settled into his body, he would do more than just medal, he would take home gold.
Which is exactly what happened his second Olympics. He was eighteen and just coming into his own. He walked away with three silver medals, four gold, and a bronze. The bronze is what upset Clint Harrington the most.
How dare he only take third! The audacity!
Where was his mother in all this? Maureen Harrington was bragging at all her country clubs, charity dos that her son was an Olympic gold medalist. Never mind her friends had never met him. That they saw more of him on their TV then she had since he turned ten. That was when she decided that he was big enough to handle himself and promptly stopped interacting him.
Clint hadnât even noticed, he was so focused on making sure Steve won at any cost. He hired the best coaches, built a swimming pool in the backyard, drove him to all his meets, all of it; just so Steve could be the best at any cost.
There was only one line Clint didnât cross, which honestly surprised everyone who knew him. He didnât suggest Steve dope up. Steve wasnât sure if it was because he was a coward and was afraid Steve would get caught, or if he just merely thought Steve could be pushed into perfection without them.
But he was always grateful that it was the one line Clint Harrington refused to cross.
And then it happened. It was 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, China. Steve was poised to break several records and win a staggering amount of medals. He was in eight events and everyone was expecting him to medal in every one of them.
But the only things he broke that year, was his head, his hopes, his dreams, and his spirit. For in the very first event the jump board he was on, slipped out from under him as jumped. His head hit the side of the pool and he sunk like a stone to the bottom.
He didnât remember much, the roar of the crowd turned to screams, the sicking crunch as his head hit the side and then the rush of water all around him as he sunk, weightless to eternity.
When he woke up, all Steve was left with was migraines and a fear of large bodies of water.
His dad walked away that day and he never saw him again.
~
Two Years Later
Eddie Munson was in deep trouble and he knew it. He had been arrested with enough weed on him to know it wasnât for personal use. Possession with intent to sell. Thank god it happened two weeks before his eighteenth birthday otherwise heâd be facing real jail time and not.. community service?
Wait, what?
He was expecting probation at the very least. But nope. He was sentenced to five hundred hours of community service as it was his first offense, he had a troubled childhood, and apparently the God damned Chief of Police on his side. Who had said that he was a good kid who protected the weak and participated in afterschool programs to help teach them math, creative writing, cooperative skills, troubleshooting, and time management.
Eddieâs lawyer told him before Hopper was to testify at his sentencing hearing that he could not laugh, could not chuckle, could not even so much as snort or smile. When Eddie asked why, he was told he couldnât be told that or else it would be seen as influencing his testimony. And then Hopper got up on the stand and said that.
D&D. Eddie DMâed D&D after school. Jesus Christ did it take everything he had not to show any emotion at all.
Five hundred hours was nothing to slouch at. It came out to roughly three months. And he could only work eight hour days. He had barely graduated high school by the skin of his teeth and a fair amount of flattery.
Chief Hopper came to pick him up personally for his first day of community service.
Eddie came barreling out of his trailer only to stop in his tracks when he saw Hopper leaning up against his pickup truck arms folded and ankles crossed.
âChief,â he said dryly. âTo what do I owe this rather dubious pleasure?â
âGet in the truck, boy,â Hop growled. âIâm doing your uncle a favor and making sure you actually show up. And I will be taking you every day. Youâll work five days a week for eight hours a day. You will have three people sign off on your sheet every day. Me, Joyce Byers, and your direct supervisor, Murray Bauman. Every god damn day. Because if you miss one signature, one day and youâll be thrown in jail. Do. You. Understand?â
Eddie gulped.
He nodded and quietly moved around the truck to get in on the passenger side, head down and shoulders rounded. He didnât utter a single word the whole trip. He just followed Hopper through the doors and into Joyceâs office.
Sitting behind the desk was a lovely woman with kind eyes, standing beside her was a balding man with beady eyes behind thick glasses. Eddie hadnât liked the sight of him at all. He just hoped the guy didnât make his already miserable life even worse.
Joyce broke down all his duties, when he could take breaks and a lunch, and that those would be included in his service hours. He would get access to all the facilities but with the proviso that if a client wanted what he was using, he would have to give it to them.
Whatever that meant.
âCome on,â she finished. âLet me show you around, then Murray will spend all of today training you.â
She stood up and Eddie immediately followed.
âHopper will sign you in,â Joyce explained, handing a clipboard with his time sheet on it and a pen to the police chief.
He signed it and handed it back to her, she put it on her desk.
âThen Murray and I will sign it when youâre done for the day,â she continued as she moved around the desk. âYou are allowed sick days but only five, unless signed off by a doctor.â
Eddie breathed a sigh of relief on that one. He got hay fever something fierce in early September and there were some days that it got so bad he couldnât see.
All three men followed her out the door. Hopper stopped in front of it.
âThis is where I get off,â he said gruffly. âYouâll have to find your own way home as Iâll be at work when you get done.â
Eddie nodded. He shook hands with him and watched as he left.
Joyce smiled at Eddie brightly. âLetâs go.â
She showed him where all the equipment was and that he was charged with wiping it all down once an hour. They continued on and suddenly he heard it.
A sound he had not heard in years.
The sound of kidsâ playful screams echoing around the sounds of splashing water. Holy shit, Uncle Wayne, he thought nervously. What did you do for the Chief of Police, hide a body?
Joyce opened the door and led Eddie through the humid air and strong scent of chlorine, pointing out his duties. Which included mopping the floors and grabbing the great big laundry baskets that held the complimentary towels to be taken to washed and also restock them every morning.
Eddie was practically vibrating now. Yeah, sure it was shit grunt work that was meant to be deliberately demeaning, but he got access to the pool. He would be able to swim again and for more than just a couple of times a summer where they would have free swim days when it got too hot.
They got to the end of the tour and Joyce turned around to face him, clapping her hands together.
âSo you ready to get to work?â
Eddie sighed. Because yeah that part still sucked. âReady as Iâll ever be, I guess.â
âThatâs the spirit!â she said with a laugh.
~
Steve stepped out of the showers and toweled off the best he could, throwing his white trainer polo on.
Because this pool was in Indianapolis where Olympic trials had been held more than a couple of times, it had the best of services for swimmers that could be offered. You had the standard lifeguards in the red polos, the coaches in the blue polos, and the trainers like him in white. It was supposed to be patriotic, but there were far too many countries that had the red, white, and blue color scheme for Steve to do anything but scoff at the notion.
What was the difference between a trainer and a coach? Well it depended on who you asked. If you asked a trainer, they would tell you age. They taught beginning, intermediate, and advanced classes.
If you asked a coach? They would tell that trainers only taught coaches inspired. They brought out the best in their students, fostered a love of water, and coached them in competitions.
They also had state of the art facilities, too. A kiddie pool, two Olympic sized swimming pools, an outdoor pool and water park, and even an endless pool.
Steve loved the endless pool. It was fifteen feet long and eight feet wide with a current that you could change the speed on so you could build up strength and endurance. It was how he unwound every day.
He stepped out of the menâs changing rooms and smiled at his assistant trainer, Robin Buckley who was waiting for him.
âYou ready for another day of screaming, terrified children?â she asked with a grin, slinging one arm around his shoulders.
He returned her grin.
âYou better believe it!â
~
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
Also on the 14th, I'll be throwing myself a birthday party on my new Discord server for my writing. Link here. Come join me, ask questions about me or my work. I like to chat. I'll still be doing WIP Wednesday but a more informal vibe in Discord, too.
Tag list: TEN SLOTS REMAINING
1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 â@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
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