#Throwing peanuts at old ladies

[just-a-shark333]

Ranking (anime) jojos based on how likely they are to throw peanuts at old ladies !!!

Joseph

(Young Joseph, specifically) Joseph would just for fun. Unless Erina was around ofc. In that case he'd never even think to harm anyone...especially not old ladies.

2. Jolyne

Shed also just find it amusing. Though, she probably wouldn’t unless she had an excuse, no matter how half-assed.

3. Josuke

Hed need much less provoking than the others would. If an old lady made a comment about his hair or fashion or friends throwing peanuts is the nicest thing he'll do.

4. Giorno

Itd take a bit more convincing to get Giorno to throw peanuts at an old lady. He'd definitely if she was, like, selling drugs to kids or an enemy stand user but other than that it'd be a bit harder to get him to do it

5. Jotaro

Hes entirely neutral on the topic of throwing peanuts at old ladies. He would only if she was an enemy stand user or maybe if she really piseed him off

6. Jonathan

Would never. The absolute only scenario in which he'd throw peanuts at an old woman is if it would somehow save her life.

This was inspired by this image btw

[blackmoldmp3]

went months without eating an apple and i just had one with breakfast and i feel soooo good. when an apple is good its great

[darnell-la]

how about old!logan with the filthiest mouth one could ever speak, full with nasty and degrading pet names. just rough and mean logan treating the reader 🫠🫠

note: this takes place in the Honda Odyssey… we can make the man filthier by the way…

———

“Well, you guys are fucking stupid, so, it’s not a surprise we’re lost,” y/n crossed her arms in the back seat as Wade drove through the woods, trying to get to the place Nicepool had me roomed for them to form a team.

“You ain’t the smartest sheep either. Batting your fuckin’ eyelids at Jonny,” Logan scoffed next to her before leaning back in his to rest.

After Wade had told him that there might not be a way to save his world, he’s been in a bad mood. Ever since she met him, he’s been in a bad mood.

“Yeah, but sadly he’s not here with us, right Wade?” Y/n sarcastically asked, making Wade sigh loudly. “He should have said those things about her!” Wade shouted.

“This whole trip is fucking ridiculous. Like seriously, Wade. Why the fuck did you bring me along to save this drunk fuck!?” Y/n complained, making Logan chuckle.

“To save your shitty world,” Logan said under his breath. “Hey! That’s my world too!” Wade argued. “Yeah — That’s why I said that shit,”

“Not like yours is better,” y/n mumbled, making Logan snap his head towards her. Y/n continued looking out of the window, not caring how he felt about her words.

“The fuck you say?” The man asked in a clearly angry tone. “Alright, let’s just cool our dicks and think about a place to eat at after we get out of this shit hole, hm?” Wade asked the two, but they both ignored him.

“Nah, I wanna hear what the little bitch has to say,” Logan called the young lady out of her name, making her snap his own neck at him. “Bitch!? No wonder you could never keep a woman. In every universe!” She shot for his heart.

“That’s something you don’t have to worry about because Ian pickin’ a little brat like you,” Logan tried saying something back in an instant like her comment didn’t hurt. He knew calling her out of her name was shitty, but he’s going through it right now.

The man was pulled from his universe being told he had a chance to save it. Not even two hours later, he was told it was an educated wish.

“Not like you can get in my pants anyways limp dick,” y/n spat, making the man chuckle. He was cocky. He always has been, and his age wasn’t going to throw that away.

“You’re an easy little girl. You would even be able to handle me,” the man looked the girl up and down, giving a look that made her roll her eyes. “You fuckin’ wish,” she said before turning back to the window.

“Oh, honey bun, he does! Maybe y’all can fuck it out in here before we make it home. Got a long way to go,” Wade almost sang.

The two went silent, not declining or accepting. They were just angry, and Wade swore having a small fuck-session would help.

Y/n felt eyes on her through the silence. She told herself not to look back, but she had to. She wanted to see the man’s face, and god, was he fine. She hated admitting to it, but he was.

The way he looked at her legs, made her shift in her seat, growing nervous from the older man’s gaze.

“As I said — Little girl can’t handle it,” Logan finally looked up at the girl with a smirk, smelling the way she grew wet in seconds, and she didn’t know he could. She was clueless which made the situation funnier to him.

“I can handle more than you think. Your dick probably wouldn’t be able to stand up anyway, so stop lookin’ at me like that you perv,” y/n tried covering her legs, but there was no use.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” the man rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “Do it yourself, coward,” y/n said under her breath. She thought she was quiet enough until his head snapped back at her and Wade gasped.

“Oh, you nasty little peanut,” Wade giggled. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?” Logan asked, giving that stupid smirk again. “What!? I never said that,” y/n lied, trying to think of something to stop this conversation.

“Oh, but you did, bub,” Logan felt like he was shifting closer, but y/n kept her eyes off of him. “Don’t go silent on me now, bub. If you need a little cock to fix that attitude, I can do it,”

The instant confidence he had, made the girl nervous. What the fuck is she going to do?

“Don’t need cock,” the girl spoke quietly. “I think you do,” the man’s hand was now on the grips thighs, gripping it a bit rough to get a reaction.

Y/n turned and swung, going to hit the man somewhere, but he got her fist and pushed it away before hovering over her body.

“You’re feisty for a girl who’s soaking wet,” the man said, confusing y/n. “You can smell her that bad!?” Wade asked, wanting to know if all. “Oh, yeah, and she smells sweet,” Logan admitted as his hands tugged on her belt.

“Let’s see if I’m right,” Logan ripped y/n’s belt off and shorts down her legs, exposing her pretty lace panties. “Logan! Fuckin’ get off!” Y/n fought back, but he knew she could do better.

“You sure? Kinda looks a little messy down here,” the man laughed at her girl as he spews her legs, seeing the dark spot grow. Before she could say another word, he ripped her panties off, making her yell at him more.

“Pretty little cunt. Maybe if you weren’t so bitchy, I’d eat it, but I have different plans for you today,” Logan wiped a finger across her lips before taking them to his mouth to suck.

“Yep — Sweeter than peach, Wade. Didn’t know you had sluts as friends,” Logan laughed again as he fumbled with his own belt. “Logan!” Y/n still shouted, kicking and slapping but he had his single hand pinning her shoulder down.

“Look on the bright side, peanut — You’ll get some dick and maybe that’ll energize you for our fight?” Wade said about anything to hide the fact he loved hearing Logan get the way he gets.

“Fuck you, Wade!” Y/n yelled at the man. “Nah uh, only I do that to you,” y/n almost forgot about Logan until she looked down, seeing his cock out in his head, stoking and leaking pre cum.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard. You know how good you look fighting? How pretty you are yappin’ that damn mouth? Could only think about you under me -- where you belong,”

Logan struggled but made his way in between her legs. “Fuck you! Fuck you, a-and Wade! You’ll last two seconds,” y/n tried laughing at the man to seem tough as usual, but he shut her right up with a hard thrust into her cunt.

“What was that? Two seconds? If I lasted a short time, it’s because this cunts so fuckin’ soaked, not because I’m old, baby,”

Y/n’s hands pushed at the man’s stomach, trying to slow him down and stop him from pushing hitting the right spot with each thrust he gave.

“S-Stop!” The girl whined already, feeling the knot in her stomach build and her breathing get spotty. He was huge and hard. Harder than she thought a man his age could be.

“Don’t think you want that, baby. No, you want me to fuck this pretty little girl till she cried and leaks on the seat,” Logan whispered in her ear as his own breath became heavy.

“God, you guys are hot. Love the play date you guys are having! Maybe give me a review after the Uber ride. Tell me if the seats felt comfy and if y’all had enough room to fuck like rabbits with rabies,” Wade seemed excited.

“Hear that, babe? Gonna tell Wade how good I fuck this pussy? C’mon, tell him. Tell him how hard your squeeze my cock,”

Y/n hated his cock voice in her ear but loved it at the same time. He knew exactly how she’d like it. Maybe by her attitude, he knew she needed someone with the same energy to pound her.

“No c-chance,” the girl stuttered through her teeth as she tried glaring at the man, but her head instantly fell back after he gave one small pound, telling her to get rid of the attitude.

“You’re gonna do it eventually. Sluts like you can’t forget a good cock,” and he was right. This was going to be the best sed she’s had ever.

“Gonna go beggin’ Wade to come get me to fuck you. Shit, since I have to stay in the bullshit you call your world, I’ll just come over to your place myself. Burry my cock in this cunt till you pass out,”

“L-Logan,” y/n dug her nails into the man’s shoulders, trying to hold tight as her orgasm felt near. “Oh, you like that? Like the thought of a dirty old man fuckin’ this so-called clean pussy, hm? Gonna let me breed this little princess whenever I want? Even if I piss you off?”

“N-No, you fucking suck at this!” Y/n breathed heavily, keeping her orgasm together so she wouldn’t give him what she wanted.

“God, she’s fuckin’ petty,” Wade said as Logan let out a little chuckle. The man shifted in the van, lifting her legs over his shoulders before punching his right claw into the roof of the van.

Y/n jumped, not used to having a mutant like him around. “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn’t hurt a pretty girl like you. Too valuable and tight,” Logan grabbed between the back of y/n’s head and neck to lift her to, fixing her to lean into him.

“Before I fuck you ass dumb, do you want to take anything you said back?” Logan looked down at the girl whose legs rested on his shoulder and cock grazed her entrance, waiting to be squeezed again.

“You fuck like a dead pig,” y/n spat. Right after, the man took one good slam into her, watching her legs part and scream. Logan pulled her head back up, making her look into his dark eyes.

“Loudmouth for a loud screamer,” the man smirked before moving his hips, thrusting into the girl with all the strength he had. He pulled her back to life whenever she tried pushing away or leaning her head back.

“Good fuckin’ pussy — Fuck! — Maybe I’ll excuse that bitch tone of yours,” the man couldn’t deny his could she felt and sounded.

Before, y/n thought she could hold herself in, but she knew Logan would get what he wanted in this new angle and harder pounding. He knew this from the start.

“C’mon, bub — I know you wanna cum. Keep squeezing around me like I wouldn’t notice,” he laughed at her. Teasing he. “N-Not cumming,” y/n assured the man, but even Wade didn’t believe her.

“I can see how the man has you in a full-on butter-salted pretzel position. You’re cumming, peanut,” Wade said, only egging Logan on knowing anyone who looked at her right now could tell she was close.

“No, I’m not!” Y/n pathetically whined. Logan leaned down to the girl's face, slightly touching her lips as his hot breath burned her nostrils.

“Don’t cum then, bub,” Logan said as he picked up his pace. “Don’t cum, and you win. You win your little bitch fight, and we can move on with our day,” Logan kept increasing.

“Don’t cum, and you’re right about my limp old dick,” Logan now growled. “Don’t cum, and I won’t come into your little home and eat that pussy,” y/n eyes rolled back as his hands dug into the back of her neck.

“Don’t cum, and I won’t fuck you like this every day to satisfy your needs, baby. Don’t cum, and I’ll have to leave this pretty little body alone forever,”

“Can’t breed it. Can’t kiss it. Can’t pound it. Can’t do anything I want to it,” y/n whined loudly at the man’s words, finally releasing the man’s cock.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You need me. You fuckin’ want this old dick,” Logan’s lips crashed into her, kissing her roughly as she cried at the pace he kept ducking her in.

“Goddam, she cums a lot!” Wade said with excitement, loving the animal coming out of Logan. He knew y/n needed something like this in his life. That totally isn’t the reason why he brought her along.

“So fuckin’ good, baby. Best fuckin’ cunt I’ve fucked. So damn tight and sweet. Need you after all this. Needa have you with me forever,”

Y/n didn’t plan for this to happen. She doesn’t plan to let Logan fuck her like this in the back of Nicepools Honda Odyssey. She didn’t plan for Logan to form an attachment issue with her.

“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill this girl up. Gonna keep you with me forever. Can’t leave. Don’t care how old I am, you belong with me. You’re made for me. Pussy’s molded to only take my cock,”

Logan’s hips bucked a few times before he pushed all the way into the young girl, spilling into her with a loud animalistic groan.

The top of the roof was ripped with how many times his claws punched in and out of it. Logan’s fingers bruised the back of y/n’s neck. Her lips even have a small scratch from the hard he kissed. She tastes so fucking good.

[pandapetals]

I have a request!! You don’t have to write it but I’ll tell you anyway

Idk if you’ve seen the trend on tt where guys are picking up their gfs to sit on their shoulders and omg imagine Logan doing that😈😈

-⭐️

Hi, I hadn't seen the trend but went and Logan would totally do something like that just to prove his strong lol. I wasn't going to write anything but this kinda pulled me out of my slump so thank you!

logan howlett x fem!gf reader - established relationship, fluff, cute, teasing banter, wade being wade, tiktok trend

“Hold still, will ya?” Logan growled, his fingers brushing your sides as he tried, for the fifth time, to get a proper grip around your waist. His voice was gruff but there was a softness buried in it—hidden beneath the sheer frustration of the task at hand.

“You’re the one moving too slow, Grandpa,” you teased, leaning just enough to make his attempt harder. The corner of your lips curled mischievously as you twisted out of his reach again, sending him stumbling forward with a muttered curse.

Logan straightened, glaring at you. “You wanna get tossed like a sack of potatoes? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

“Promise?” you shot back with a grin, earning a low, rumbling growl in response.

From behind the camera, Wade cackled like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. He adjusted the angle of your phone, squinting at the screen. “Oh, this is gold. Are we witnessing the tragic downfall of the great Wolverine? Or is this just an elaborate mating ritual?”

“Shut up, Wade,” Logan snapped, his sharp eyes briefly cutting to the man-child behind the camera.

“I’m just saying,” Wade continued, unfazed. “For a guy with animal instincts, you’re not exactly pouncing, buddy. You’re more…like a wounded bear. Slow, cranky, probably rabid—”

“Keep runnin’ your mouth, Wilson, and we’ll see who’s slow,” Logan snarled, his claws snikt-ing halfway out for emphasis.

Wade gasped theatrically, clutching the phone to his chest like a pearl necklace. “Violence? In front of your lady? I thought you were all about the chivalry, peanut.”

“Wade,” you said with a laugh, stepping closer to your grumpy boyfriend. “You’re not helping.”

“Who says I’m trying to help? I’m here for the content, babe. And maybe the sweet, sweet sound of his back snapping when he fails this lift. Again.”

Logan didn’t dignify that with a response. He shook his head, his jaw clenching as he crouched slightly, motioning for you to come closer. “Alright, enough screwin’ around. C’mere. This time, I got it.”

“Okay, okay.” You stepped into his reach, but not without one last playful jab. “Don’t throw your hip out, old man.”

His hands clamped around your waist firmly this time, and for a moment, you felt the raw strength coiled in his arms. With a grunt of effort, he hoisted you upward—just a little too hard.

“Whoa, Logan! Not the ceiling!” you yelped, flailing as your head nearly collided with the light fixture.

“Stop wigglin’!” Logan barked, his voice strained as he adjusted his grip. You landed awkwardly across his broad shoulder, not quite balanced but not falling either. “There! Told ya I could do it.”

“Yeah, sure. Super graceful,” you teased from your perch, giggling as you tried to hold still.

“Oh, honey,” Wade chimed in, zooming the camera in on Logan’s scowling face. “You are the picture of elegance. Look at you. Like a slightly hairier, angrier ballerina. Ten outta ten. I’m titling this masterpiece: ‘Beauty and the Beast, But She Regrets It.’”

Logan flipped him off without missing a beat, his free hand holding you steady as you laughed so hard your sides ached.

“Alright, we’re done here,” Logan grumbled, beginning to lower you.

“No, no, no, not yet!” Wade protested, practically lunging to block the shot. “I need the slow-mo drop! Or maybe a blooper reel. You two are TikTok gold, and I will exploit it for likes.”

“I swear to God, Wade,” Logan growled, turning to face him, which meant you were now dangling awkwardly off his shoulder like a sack of grain. “If you don’t quit, I’ll—”

“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time, Wolvie,” Wade quipped, blowing him a kiss.

By the time Logan set you down, both of you were doubled over in laughter—yours genuine, his tinged with exasperation. Wade was still narrating the moment like a sports commentator, throwing in dramatic sound effects and zooming in on Logan’s face for emphasis.

“You’re both insane,” Logan muttered, shaking his head.

“And yet,” you said, sliding your arm around his waist, “you love us anyway.”

He grumbled something under his breath, but the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth was all the answer you needed.

[writingoddess1125]

Darling I am SO SORRY for adding yet another request to the already enormous pile but OH MY GOD your buggy family saga keeps me thinking! The way buggy wants to have daughters! The way the twins have regular noses but CONSIDER!!!! him and his lady having a baby girl and AHHHH she got his nose!!! Little cherry baby! At first he's so afraid because of his own I security and then he's DETERMINED that his baby girl will never feel that shame or I security neverrr

Cherry Babies 🍒

- Support me on Ko-fi please, For Ramen 🍜

- Old Man Series

• Buggy is head over heels in Love with his Daughters. Ari and Ali- has shown them off to everyone and holds them constantly.

• "Look at my daughters! They are so beautiful! Makes your baby look ugly!" He laughs at a random villager-

• You having to apologize and just explain he's excited-

• Calls them a host of Nicknames like with the Twins. The boys he always calls Peanuts or Double trouble.

• For the girls he has adopted Cherries or Bubble & Squeak. Mainly due to Ari Seeming to always be blowing spit bubbles which he has to clean and Ali being the more vocal of twin and making a host of random noises.

• He trains Dee and Bee more- Wanting them to learn how to protect their sisters and guard them.

• Speaking of the boys, They love their sisters. At first they were jealous assuming that the babies would steal all of the attention, That was till they returned from the ship after your labor and found that you would be in deep recovery from the birth. So Buggy was dealing with the girls mostly- thats when the boys decided to help their father till you were better and fell in love with them just like Buggy did.

• The twins had become massive helps to You and Buggy. Often without even needing to be asked-

• A few weeks after the birth Buggy walked into the nursery to check on the girls and found Dee asleep leaned next to the crib were the girls were and Bee asleep on the floor.

• Buggy had never felt such a strong swell of pride before and picked up the boys and tucked them into their proper beds that night. A smile on his face the whole time

• If anyone mentions their noses- GOES APE SHIT

• A nurse was the first one to be on the end of this treatment- It was there one month check up and the Doctor had given the clear the girls were happy and healthy. He had brought his assistant a young male nurse with him to help with things like weighing both twins and documenting results.

• Buggy caught his eye staring at thier noses and his eyes narrowed dangerously. The nurse fucked up though when he said 'Do we check the noses?.. was that normal?"

• The Doctor and you knowing that there was no stopping Buggy as he screamed in the Nurses face and proceeded to beat him to death-

• He will constantly be paranoid something Is wrong with the girls.

• "(Y/N) Why is she crying like this?" He panics as he holds Ari who is crying hard. You walk over calmly to see the man on the verse of tears as you do a quick check over and touch her rounded stomach which immediately leads to a dart and her quieting down.

• "She just has gas-" Buggy stares "Oh-"

• When the twins open their eyes and start to look around Buggy is overjoyed. Especially when he sees they have his eyes, Is immediately swooned.

• AKA HE THROWS A PARTY

• Buggy of course had thrown another party, Like he did with all his kids it seemed. Dee figuring out how to read the maps- Party. Bee making his first Bomb- Party so now that the girls had opened their eyes- PARTY

• It's a massive event with his entire crew involved. Food, Music, Drinks, the works.

• You catch him buzzed off his ass swaying to some music while holding the twins against his chest. You go to protest and scold him- But notice he is actually levitating by his ankles to keep from tripping as well as using the baby scarf to hold them up.

• It was oddly cute? Here was this pirate, high bounty and nasty reputation red in the face singing along to the music while holding his daughters.

• Ari is wide awake looking around at all the new things while Ali is peacefully asleep cuddled into Buggys chest.

• When he turns you see Bee asleep on his back, like a piggyback ride.

• You of course snap the picture of Buggy holding three kids at once.

• Will want to set back to sea by the Girls 3rd month and has the ship ready by then. He knows its difficult but feels safer on the sea then on land ironically as well as He has been on this island for a year and doesn't want to lose his reputation.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Previously / Next chapter

a/n I’m sorry for the wait, I hope that people who wanted to see this will see this. 🤍

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What are you looking at, Dolores?”, you hitched the box full of books higher as you walked by the elderly lady who had been staring through the shop window for a handful of minutes, making it hard for you to miss. “There’s a car,” she mused, pointing ever so slightly. “Across the street. Been there for—”, she glanced down at her watch, “Two hours, twenty-seven… eight minutes.”

“Maybe it’s one of your book club members,” you shrugged, huffing as you pushed on the double-decked boxes with your hip. “Sure,” she let out a low chuckle, “the boy looks your age. I doubt he’s interested in us old farts.” You quickly turned back, eyes searching for the car Dolores was referring to. And as always, it was with a blink of an eye that you saw him. The window was down, and he was on his phone. “I’ll be right back,” you muttered beneath your breath. “And don’t lift anything,” you warned her, pointing a finger at her before slipping into the chilly autumn breeze.

You crossed the street carelessly, jogging toward the familiar black car. “We had a deal,” you tapped against the side frame, making Noah jolt slightly. “To my defense, I didn’t set foot in the bookstore, and that was the main rule you had,” Noah smiled at you, leaning back into his seat.“Do I need a restraining order against you?”, you crossed your arms over your chest, watching him for a moment. The dark circles beneath his eyes had not been this visible the last time you saw each other. He looked ashen and drained.

“Technically, this is public property, and my rights are being violated. I can’t pursue reading,” Noah cut into your train of thought, making you roll your eyes. You glanced back toward the shop, snickering slightly at the sight of Dolores with her face practically pressed to the window, watching you two. “Well, are you up for an eventful evening?”, you turned back to Noah, who was already ushering you to stand aside so he could step out. “Do I need to be scared?”, he asked, throwing you that innocent smile of his. “Nope,” you chirped, pulling out the ‘o’ into a light song before flashing him a daring look.

That’s how Noah found himself lining up chairs and moving around boxes. A handful of elderly women offered him food and fussed over how skinny he was. “You don’t feed him enough, Y/n,” one of the book club members, at least that’s what Noah had gathered, said, shaking her head as she glanced at you. “He’s a big boy; he can feed himself, Mrs. Radler,” you chirped over your shoulder with a smile. Yet there was a sense of ease here. The pace of the place seemed slower.

“Do you mind?”, Noah quickly turned to the side, seeing Dolores, who had been over the moon excited to greet him, turning a jar of peanut butter in her slightly trembling hands. “Not one bit,” swiftly undoing the lid, Noah set it on the little side counter. “And knives?”, Dolores simply pointed toward the drawer, and he knew she was watching him, assessing him in her way.

“She’s good, you know, our Y/n,” Dolores started, letting her gaze drift towards the main shop floor, where you fussed over everyone with equal amounts of love and care. It was fascinating. Not to mention the first time Noah saw you smile for real. Not that slight forced smile out of obligation, but a genuine, full-hearted smile.

“I don’t doubt it one bit, ma’am,” Noah smiled, moving to spread peanut butter on yet another piece of toast. “She’s all prickly on the outside, but you give her time,” Dolores mused, spooning jam onto the half-made sandwiches. “You look like you need a bit of Y/n in your life, son.” Noah chuckled, “I doubt she wants to…”, “Oh, she does. You might just be what she’s been looking for too,” Dolores cut in, tapping Noah on the back. “Bring these out for me; don’t trust these hands one bit,” she pointed to the tray before reaching for her cane.

You watched him, handing out sandwiches before the reading began. A polite smile on his face, hair pulled up in a messy bun. His cheeks grew slightly pink at the scandalized looks on some of the women’s faces when they noticed his tattoos. But he stayed. Not a single complaint. Not a single frown. He could have turned on his heel and gone. Nothing was holding him here. But no, Noah was here, making you wonder how a person you barely knew could find ways to get involved in things you loved while your ex could not. “So, let’s not forget to take our blood pressure pills, ladies,” you clapped softly. Glancing over the room one more time to make sure that everything was in the right order, you added, “The girl on the evening shift will close up after you, so don’t worry about anything. Just enjoy yourselves.”

Noah watched you cross the street toward him for the second time tonight. However, this time, he knew he wasn’t going to get scolded. You quickly slipped into the passenger seat with a sigh. While he could tell that you enjoyed your job, it no doubt took a toll on you.

“So, are we thinking unhealthy food, or do you want to risk food poisoning if I cook?” Noah threw you a look, making you chuckle slightly. “Takeout, my place. I have a pie for dessert we could eat,” you glanced at him, glad to see that flicker of excitement. One that hadn’t been there this morning. “Cheeky you, inviting me over the second time around,” Noah mused. “Yep, nope,” you moved for the door, but Noah quickly locked it. A slight silence fell before you turned towards him once more. “Why did you stay?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Noah looked straight ahead, the streetlights glistening in his eyes. There was something in the way he thought of his answer, the way he was picking the words in his head, that frightened you.

“No, changed my mind. Don’t answer that,” you waved your hand in front of you. Noah’s eyes fell on you then, a light smile on his face. “You’re scared my answer might make your heart skip a beat?” he nodded your way, making you cross your arms over your chest. But this time, you didn’t find it in you to deflect. “Maybe,” you admitted. You could feel the slight surprise radiating off him before a slight smug smile spread across his face as he started the car.

“He’s cool,” Noah said, running his fingers through Marsh’s fur, making the blind cat nudge against his palm. Empty plates littered the table, ones Noah had offered to wash up, but you had simply waved him off. “He also hates people, but it seems that you are the exception,” you mused, your head resting in your palm as you watched them. Once again, you found yourself enjoying the feeling of having someone around. Of having Noah around.

“Now that’s a compliment,” Noah blew out a breath, scratching behind Marsh’s ear, sending the cat into a purring fit. “We have quite a few pets in the house,” Noah pointed out, pulling the cat onto his lap. “So, a professional pet whisperer,” you hummed, making Noah snicker, “Something like that.” And then there he would go. One minute a smile, the next empty eyes as he stared at the pet in front of him. You told yourself you didn’t care. It wasn’t your business. But it haunted you, a strange need to comfort him.

“Emmy said that the upcoming months will be hard for you all,” you muttered, making Noah snap his head toward you. The expression on his face was almost panicked, making you quickly add, “Well, she mostly cried about Matt leaving but…” Noah frowned slightly. “Yeah… I guess,” he muttered. “We don’t have to talk about it if you…” you started, only to be met by Noah shaking his head. “No, no, it’s just… I haven’t voiced it out loud but…” He let out a deep sigh. “I’m thinking about canceling the rest of the tour.” Now it was your turn to stare, and as stupid as it was, all you could muster was a quiet, “Oh…”

Noah let out an almost bitter laugh as he dragged his palms over his face. “Good job on not giving away that you knew us,” he grunted between his fingers. “I didn’t, and I don’t,” you clipped in, sitting up. “I haven’t googled any of you. I don’t care. I’m sorry if that’s upsetting,” you shrugged. He turned to you slowly, his head resting on the headrest of the sofa. “You’re probably used to girls falling on their knees for that fact alone,” it was a bitter blow on your part, and from the way Noah clenched his jaw, you knew that you had been wrong. “Doesn’t mean that I like it,” Noah sighed, looking down at Marsh again.

You felt guilty in a way. It seemed like all your interactions with him always ended with you pulling claws. “Thank you for helping today,” you muttered, hoping to get him talking again. “I liked it. It was fun,” Noah admitted. “Different from… well, from my weeks as of late,” and the light scowl spoke volumes. “Well, if you enjoyed it, you can pop by anytime,” the words slipped the words slipped past your lips before you even thought them over. “Dolores will be delighted to see the handsome boy in black,” you glanced back at him.“Never take granny's love for granted,” Noah nodded before glancing at his watch. “I should probably go.”

“Stay, it’s late,” you breathed, a hint of panic in your voice as you reached for him. “Better not,” and there it was—the same slashing disappointment as his words hit you, making you pull back. It was the disappointment in your eyes that did it. “I would love to, but I don’t sleep that well,” Noah muttered, reaching for your hand, fingers trying to carefully intertwine with yours.“What do you mean?”, Your words were barely a whisper as you laid your hand on the sofa, both of you facing each other.

“Just… hard to explain,” Noah whispered, his tired eyes soaking you in. It terrified you, the idea of him driving now, in his current state. “Okay, well I also sleep poorly, so we can watch old movies and just, I don’t know…” you offered, hoping he would cave in. There was a war zone in his head, you could feel it, yet he still nodded ever so slightly. “Okay?” you asked just to make sure.“Yeah,” Noah muttered, finally fully settling his palm against yours and giving your hand a slight squeeze.

[alottiegoingon]

peanuts

lottie matthews x gn!reader

summary: the one where you bring pb&j sandwiches for lottie everyday since you were 9.

warnings: so much fluffiness i might throw up, short silly fic, lottie and reader are childhood friends and secretly in love, no crash, lottie has a bad relationship with her parents, cute little unexpected ending i guess?, english mistakes, not proofread

you and lottie were friends since you were nine years old.

you remember being inside the car with your parents when you moved to new jersey. the roads were bumpy before you could make it to the city of wiskayok. still, you insisted on carrying a book with you during the entire trip, knowing that you would feel nauseous in no time. your parents warned you but, as the quiet and moody kid that didn't want to move, you ignored their advice.

trying to focus on anything else besides your upset stomach, you place the book titled "matilda" by roald dahl, in perfect condition, by your side and decide to enjoy the view outside as the car moves along from the backseat. it wasn't a lifesaver but it was better than feeling your head heavy as you read the tiny words in the paper.

the houses were all the same. boring, lifeless and with a few flowers or bushes outside just to bring some color. what a lame city, you thought. no colorful houses, fun playgrounds or a nice park in sight. but that changed at the exact same moment as you saw lottie's house. a perfect planned garden in the front and impeccably painted walls capable of telling anyone that the house was pretty, yes, but the people living inside of it were superior. liking or not, the house was pretty but not as far pretty as her.

lottie was upstairs in the window of her bedroom when you saw her, you couldn't decide if she was staring outside like she was waiting for something or just watching people go by as if she was trapped inside. either way, she waved at you and, hesitantly, you waved back.

the following years consisted in sleepovers, movie nights and little discussions in the book club you two invented. safe to say that you became best friends almost too immediately.

lottie was a loner when she was home with no one to watch her except for a old lady that worked for the matthew's as a housekeeper or a nanny. you never knew and she was scary. playing pranks on her was almost a daily occurrence and an invention of lottie. like dyeing her clothes pink or switching salt and sugar and watching the distorted face of pure horror and agony in lottie's parents faces during dinner, when they invited you over. you and lottie had to cover your mouth or look down to not laugh but couldn't ever not exchange glances across the table.

her parents knew, of course. "your parents must be waiting for you. it's late isn't it?" was lottie's moms way of telling you to leave. you would say goodbye to lottie and hold her hand extra tight, knowing that the second the door closed behind you, you would hear her parents scolding her. you could see a curious mix between fear and excitement in her eyes when you were about to leave and you thought that that would be the last time she would prank that poor lady, but no. she would always come up with something new. deep down you knew that she was just craving attention from her parents and she would be glad to accept some mean words from them if it meant that they would talk to her instead of disappearing in work.

every day after the pranks were the same. the next morning, you showed up at school with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. one for you and the other one for lottie, of course. maybe it was your way of supporting her as you could. as a nine year old, peanut butter sandwiches were your favorite and you would always eat them if you were feeling sad. you never knew why she would eat it entirely and as fast as she could, kiss your cheek and run away, telling you she was late. it was lunch time and she was nine. what could she possibly be late for?

but the smile on her face exposing her teeth shaped like little fangs every single time she saw you with a simple extra sandwich on hands made just for her, became your new favorite thing in the world.

during your teenage years, nothing changed. almost nothing. lottie was still a loner at home but was kind of a popular girl at school. not like your other friend jackie, but still popular. you and lottie tried for the wiskayok high yellowjackets; a girl's soccer team. you both made it to the team and quickly made some new friendships but nothing as close as what you two had. you were popular as well, sure, but you didn't care about that. it took you a few weeks to realize that jackie was popular because of her personality. you, lottie and other girls were popular because you were on the team.

regardless, after every unsuccessful exam, every bad moment with lottie's parents, every failed practice day, you were right by her side holding a sandwich with silly drawings made out of peanut butter and jelly. despite being best friends, you were both changing. different hair, different ways of dressing, different ways to look at each other. the only thing that never truly changed was the smile on lottie's lips and it was exactly like how you remember from when you were nine.

there was that one day when lottie had an awful day at practice after a fight with her parents last night and she was sitting on the aluminun bench in the locker room. she had her head down and her dark curls styled in low pigtails.

"hi." you sit by her side. she looks up and you notice her red eyes. "hi." she whispers. lottie would never let people see her in vulnerable moments but near you, she wouldn't hide a thing.

"should i go to your house in the middle of the night and dye your parents clothes pink like when we were kids?" your voice was playful but you knew that if the answer was yes, you would happily do it.

you feel your heart beating faster as you hear lottie's breathy laugh and feel proud of yourself for making her happy now. then, in a few seconds, the weak smile faded and the locker room fell into silence.

"do you think i'm a freak?" her words make your heart shatter. lottie would tell you everything, except from that one big secret thing that she was forbidden to talk about by her parents. you never mentioned it after noticing how she would get uncomfortable. or after noticing how her parents would always change the conversation to something else if she was blabbing too much. or when you saw a small orange bottle with pills inside with a label that said "charlotte matthews".

you take a moment to think of something to say until you realize that there was no right thing. lottie just wanted support. she needed your support. "i think you are strong." you say. you knew that she didn't have a choice, she had to be strong. but yet, it was something you admired in her.

"lott, i don't know what is happening and i won't ever force you to tell me. but i know you for years now and i know what you are." she remains quiet but at least she's still looking at you.

"you are so smart. brilliant, actually. you are great at soccer, you have an amazing fashion sense" you joke "a heart of gold."

"and you are beatiful."

lottie says nothing but you can see a subtle spark of relief in her eyes. instead, she hops closer to you and rest her head on your shoulder. you do the same, gently laying your head on top of hers. you were staring at that same old boring blue locker in front of you when you feel lottie's hand grabbing yours. you feel nothing but euphoria when she intertwined your fingers together as your hands were placed between you two.

your smile was so wide that you were actually happy that lottie couldn't see you. and you couldn't see her face as well but something was telling you that she was also smiling while her thumb was Involuntarily caressing your hand. you weren't sure if that was something that best friends did, at least not in such an intimate way. but you were hoping that it meant something more.

you hear steps getting louder and realize that practice was over and the girls were coming to change clothes. unanimously, you two distance yourselves from each other just in time and, taking a quick glance at lottie, you see her face entirely red.

"are you okay, lottie? we were worried. jackie said that she can dismiss you tomorrow." shauna gets closer to you two, touching lottie's shoulder and squeezing it softly in reassurance.

"it's okay. i'm all good." she looks up and smiles at her friend.

you stand up and grab your backpack, pulling out a small paper bag with something unmistakable inside. lottie and shauna look at you and still feeling a bit shaky, you handle it to lottie with a shy smirk and lots of mumble.

"peanut butter sandwich. to make you feel better, you know the drill, right?" you laugh awkwardly and lottie's cheeks that were just going back to its original color, got pinkish again. the same old smile was also there.

"thank you. movie night tonight?" she asks full of hope.

"absolutely. can't wait to watch drew barrymore in scream." you nod excitedly. later that night you would find out that she would only appear in the screen for ten minutes and lottie would make fun of you for that.

after you left, shauna tapped lottie's shoulder to catch her attention. she looked at shauna but her hands were carefully holding the paper bag against her body as if she was taking care of something precious.

"i thought you were allergic to peanuts?" shauna furrows her brows.

"yeah. but it's their favorite."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

i am so obsessed with how you write the poly relationship w wolverine and deadpool, i would love to see more!!!

"Come on Peanut, we're going out!" Wade declared, throwing him his jacket.

Logan groaned and took a drag off his cigar, exhaling slowly. He'd been looking forward to a night in. To some quiet. Wade had been going out with friends tonight, going to carouse and be obnoxious. Laura was busy. Altha was out... It was going to be bliss.

Absolute bliss.

And now that was shot to hell.

"Where are we going?"

"Karaoke," Wade said, "The sweet little angel baby who lives upstairs is going. And so are all her super hot friends."

"Christ," Logan groaned. Wade's sex drive made his look low. But. If you were going at least he'd have someone to talk to. You could talk intelligently about... a lot of shit. And your sense of humor was good.

"Just remember," Wade called over his shoulder, "No stabbing in front of the normies."

________________

"Su-i-cide. Su-i-cide. Su-i-cide."

The crowd took up Wade's chant and you rolled your eyes.

"Good fucking luck, My brain is like 90% song lyrics," you caution, sipping from the pint you'd been nursing.

"That's the price you gotta pay, Angel," Wade teased, fluttering non existant lashes, "if you wanna save Logi-bear from having to sing you gotta take all the songs I want."

"You get 3-"

"7" he countered.

"5, asshole"

"Done!" he said, jumping off the stool and going to put your songs in.

Logan looked at you and shook his head. Your friends had left to go dancing and you bowed out. And for the last two hours you'd been... theirs. "You don't have to do that," he said.

"The mob has spoken. Also, even if I sound like shit they're all drunk so. It's fine. Pretty sure Wade doesn't want to humiliate me. He just wants me to sing something."

He nodded, "Probably." Wade definitely didn't want you humiliated. He wanted you in their bed- Logan was on the fence about it. Something was... wrong with you. Fragile. And he didn't know if you could handle it, honestly. Or if they could handle you.

Your name is announced along with the song and you roll your eyes. "He would. He fucking would. I mentioned this ONE TIME." But you go, Taking the mic and casually giving Wade the finger as you step up and take your first breath. Only to start 'Holding out for a Hero'.

The line up gave you a headache.

'Holding out for a Hero' 'Baby Got Back' 'I'm the Only One' 'Work it' And then to cap the whole thing off 'Lucky' Honestly, either Wade didn't know how old you were or forgot that music tended to stick around for a good long while. But You did all 5, Blind with no time to prep and did your best to kill it. And hell if you didn't need water when you were done.

"Dick," you tell him, without any actual heat, "I told you-"

"And I bow to the queen," he said. "Logan, I'm in love!"

Logan snorted. "She can do better."

"See," you tell Wade, taking the water he offered and a chair gratefully, "someone knows how to charm a girl."

Wade clutched his chest and took own seat, "Angel baby, I'm hurt. We're a package deal. And I'll have you know I can be VERY charming."

"Mhmm."

"Help me out here, Peanut-"

"Oh no, this is all you. You wanna fuck the girl, you gotta do the work."

You pause, drink half way to your mouth and clear your throat, setting it down, "Pardon me?" You'd been operating under the assumption that this was all just banter. Harmless fun. Wade and Logan were together. Wade flirted with EVERYONE. Logan was a grumbly old man but he was a softy when he wanted to be. You liked them. You knew they liked you. But you didn't know it was LIKE that. At least for Wade.

"Look at her," Wade said "She's precious-"

Logan cleared his throat. You didn't smell aroused. And he could hear your heart racing. "Sorry, kid," he said. "I thought-"

"I-uh... Excuse me for a second?" You hop off your stool and grab your bag, weaving your way through the room to the ladies room. Taking a second to take a breath. To think. You lean on the sink and wonder if you've had too much to drink. But you know you haven't. And you know no one's drugged you. Wade's beat the shit out of people for doing that- and Logan would never. They're good guys. Not creeps. Certified good guys, really. So why- this is wild.

And it doesn't happen to girls like you.

People don't want you like that. Unless it's a weird fetish thing. Or they're hobosexual. Or some other reason. But they don't want you for you. No one ever does, at least not for long. But you like them. They're friends. Will they stay friends if you say no? If you say yes what happens? Do you even want to say yes? What the fuck is happening? There are a lot of thoughts in your head. Too many.

And when you make your way out of the Bathroom, going to duck outside to get a breath of fresh air, an unfamiliar chest stops you. "You did Pretty good tonight," the oily voice said.

"Thanks, Randy," you tell him, stepping back. The Karaoke creep. You all laugh at him. He uses cash advances at strip clubs and tucks in his polos. The most divorced man to have ever lived.

"Suicides are hard. They're not for everyone," he said, picking his teeth with a coke nail. "But for a retar-"

"Hey fuckface," Wade said, "that's not a nice word." He inserted himself deftly between you and the other man and leaned on the bar, "Didn't you ever learn not to say fucking slurs?"

"Wade," you tell him, "It's just Randy it's not that-"

"She's retarded and you're fuck ug-" A crack and a clang made you help and this time it was Logan standing there as Randy crumbled to the floor.

"And he has bad hair plugs," Wade said. "Only one of us has a problem. And he paid for his."

[holylulusworld]

After the dust settles

Summary: You and Ari got into a fight.

Pairing: Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, jealous reader, fluff

Written for: Winter Break Advent: Day 11 - Romantic fluff

Words: 1.1k+

After the dust settles you stare at yourself in the mirror. What happened? Why did you have to fight over stupid nonsense? Now it feels like everything you built over two years lies in ruins at your feet. – Just like the silver picture frame he gifted to you for Valentine’s Day.

He spent too much time with his friends, especially his lady friend, Rachel. You never liked the blonde. Maybe it was only your imagination, or your jealous streak telling you she’s after your man.

It’s not the first time you have tried to talk to Ari and make him see that Rachel is not interested in being only friends with your boyfriend. She always plays nice around Ari, but the looks she gives you tell a different story. Her smile is sugar-sweet, but her eyes give the truth away.

Rachel wants your man, and you are fairly sure you just drove Ari into her welcoming arms. His smile and soft kisses will be hers from now on, and you will be left outside alone once again.

You sniffle and kneel next to the broken picture frame. Your fingers tremble when you try to part the shards from the picture of you and Ari. The frame is broken in the middle, just like your heart.

Ari will turn his back on you due to a stupid fight. The waitress at the bar called Rachel and Ari a cute pair. You tried not to take it to heart that he danced with Rachel at the bar and paid for her drinks. But the waitress’s comment was too much.

You stormed out of the bar, walking away when Ari called your name. He followed you home and tried to talk to you but you started a fight. All the pent-up anger you held back for so long broke free.

The last thing you said was that if he wants Rachel, he should go to her and never come back. And he just did that. He looked at you for a moment, shook his head, and stormed out of your house.

That was around three hours ago and since then, you couldn’t move, or think. You just stared at the picture frame, feeling like you were frozen in time.

“I let her win,” you choke out a sob. “I let that bitch win!”

You get back up and step over the broken frame. If you lost Ari tonight, you need something to numb the pain. Anything…

“Ari,” you sniffle as you end up on voicemail once again. “Ari, I’m a little drunk. Baby, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to go to her. I want you here.”

You sigh deeply. “Ari?? Can you hear me?” You slur into the phone. “Baby? I’m all alone and I need you here. Please?”

You sigh deeply as you hang up the phone. With trembling fingers, you dial his number again.

“Ari…I’m mad at you for leaving me here. I hate drinking, you know that,” you scrunch up the nose. “It tastes like old socks. But not yours. I bet yours would taste good. Even your sweat tastes good.”

You hang up the phone only to dial his number again. “I forgot to tell you that I hate that woman. She always looks at me like she wants to kill me only because I love you. That’s it. I won’t call again.”

This time you turn off your phone and throw it onto your bed. You give up. Ari won’t answer your calls and you are sure, it’s because he’s with Rachel now.

Why not? No one is keeping him from being with the woman he wants. You gave him permission to be with Rachel. It’s your own fault.

If only you weren’t such a fool sometimes…

“Y/N? Peanut?” Ari stumbles into your house. He desperately calls your name, searching for you in every room. “BABY? I’m worried. Please make a noise. Y/N, are you alive?”

He jogs upstairs, almost tripping over his feet as he tries to check the rooms upstairs.

“Peanut? BABE!!” He looks inside the bathroom, huffing as your clothes lie splattered on the ground. Ari grins and snaps a picture before walking toward the bedroom. “Y/N?”

Ari sneaks inside the room, tiptoeing toward the bed only to find you curled up on his side of the bed. You’re cradling three of his shirts in your arms and snore lightly. “So, the lady doesn’t snore, huh?” He grins and gets out his phone to film you. “I’ll so tease you for this.”

“Ari…” you murmur in your sleep and hold the shirts even tighter. “Asshole.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” he grunts as he kicks off his shoes. “I’ll talk about your fecal language with your later, Y/N. You little stubborn peanut.”

While you mutter in your sleep, Ari joins you on the bed. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your hair. “Ari.”

“I’m sorry for leaving. I was mad at myself, not you. You were right all along. Rachel is not a good friend. When I came to her tonight to convince her to come with me and tell you that you don’t need to worry about her being into me she told me the truth.”

“Ari?” Your eyes snap open when you feel someone press himself against your back. “Please tell me it’s you.”

“Hey, Peanut?” He grins when you turn your head to look at him. “What did you drink? You called me fifteen times. I was already on my way back.”

“UH-I butt-called you,” you lie. The last thing you want is to let Ari get away with his behavior easily. “Maybe you have mistaken me with your lady friend.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to fight again. I’m sorry, okay. Please believe me that I only love you. Rachel was a friend to me, nothing else.”

“You danced with her, Ari! That waitress believed you were Rachel’s boyfriend, not mine,” you sniffle and angrily wipe your eyes. “I don’t want to fight but for you to see that I was hurt.”

“Baby…you’re right. I was wrong,” he gives you a cracked smile. “I told her that we cannot be friends if she wants to get in my pants. Then she tried to jump at me.”

“What? I’ll scratch her eyes out!” You square your jaw. “Let me kill her.”

“That’s my girl,” Ari grins proudly. “Don’t worry, Peanut. I told her to get lost and that I’m going to go home to my girl, kiss her, and tell her that I was a fool.”

“Good for your girl,” you relax in his arms. “I hope you know that I won’t forgive you so easily…”

Tags in reblog.

[imsodishy]

Take a Step That is New

another episode of Four's Company (a series on ao3)

this episode filmed in front of a live studio audience

May 1987 

The cheery chimes above the door at Dot's Dinner ting-a-ling as Steve walks in and he almost throws his stupid briefcase at it. He settles at the last minute for telling it to, “Shut the hell up,” and heads for the counter. 

“Whoa, buddy, rough day?” Robin's already saddled up on a stool, Billy’s just serving up her burger and onion rings. 

The boxy fan they’ve set up on the counter does nothing to dispel the muggy heat that’s settled over the city, just moves the humid air around. It also does nothing to improve Steve’s mood, sweltering in his stupid suit, he yanks at his tie until he can breathe again. 

Steve claims the stool next to Robin, peels off his stuffy jacket and slams it down on the teal formica counter top with zero thought for whatever grease or condiments it might find there, then he plonks his head down next to it without acknowledging Robin, and groans like a dying seal, “I hate my fucking life.” 

It’s not true, Steve likes his life. Mostly. 

What he fucking hates is his job. Which makes up… some way too big percentage of his life; 9 to 5, Monday to Friday is a big chunk of the week. The heat doesn’t help. 

Robin pat-pats his shoulder consolingly. He hears Billy huff at his dramatics before walking away from the sad spectacle of Steve’s life. Off in the corner Seymour, a grumpy old regular who basically lives at his booth, frowns. He’s always frowning at something though. Mostly at Steve, though not exclusively. Eddie earns his fair share of stink-eye. 

Robin's hand is still on Steve’s shoulder when he can sense her lean in closer and– “Don't fucking sniff me, dude!” He snaps upright, leaning as far away from her as he can without toppling off the stool. “It's so weird.” 

“Sorry! Sorry,” she says, “You seem stressed is all, and I was just checking you didn’t go crawling back to sweet lady nicotine's disgusting embrace.” 

Robin’s been rabid lately on her bid to get all three of them to quit smoking. It started with a not in the house rule, and has quickly progressed to all out war on the cancer sticks. Steve's the only one who's buckled so far. He's on an almost two month streak right now, and she's been playing hard defense to keep him on it. He draws the line at the sniffing though. That is simply unacceptable. 

Steve rolls his eyes, and grumbles, “I didn’t smoke,” God, he could really go for one right now though, “If I bring a lighter to work I’ll end up burning the building down.”  

A strawberry milkshake clonks down on the counter in front of him as Billy basically drops it like a bomb, “Oh my God. Quit! Just quit your stupid fucking job that you hate!” he explodes, “I cannot listen to your sad-sack, bitch-baby, whining about it anymore.“ 

Steve pulls his milkshake in close just in case Billy tries to confiscate it for bitch-baby behavior. “I can’t just quit,” he whines. 

Billy just rolls his eyes and doesn’t try to take Steve’s one joy away from him. “Why? Because your Dad got it for you?” 

And like, yeah, but Billy doesn’t have to be such a dickhead about it. 

Billy landed his job at Dot’s Diner like some kind of magic. Seriously, their first day in New York, they hadn’t even unpacked any of the boxes they'd schlepped into the house when Billy dusted off his hands and said, “I'm gonna get the lay of the land,” and walked out the front door. 

He came back six hours later with a job and a peanut butter milkshake. It took him a month after that to tell them where he worked, and he tells them frequently that he's regretted it everyday since he caved. They do spend a lot of time there bothering him, despite the fact he refuses to give them freebies. His boss, Sal (who reminds Steve a lot of Benny from the diner back home, if he had about two dozen extra tattoos, like they both rolled off a big, gruff, diner proprietor assembly line somewhere), is actually way more likely to sling them a free coke or some fries once in a while. 

“We could find you another job,” Robin says, as she’s been saying for months, “One that makes you at least sixty percent less arson-y, guaranteed!” 

Robin got her job at the campus bookstore through student services, (obviously not an option for Steve), although, with the first year under her belt, she's talking about looking elsewhere for employment, since the school pays them peanuts anyway, and she thinks she'll be able to balance her schedule better now on her own. 

The door chimes jangle crazily as Eddie bursts into the diner, “Outstanding news chums!” he booms, ignoring Seymour scowling in his direction. 

“Easy on the door, Munson,” Billy warns. 

Eddie shuts the door with exaggerated care, before he hustles over to the counter and hops up on the stool on Robins other side. He gives himself a drumroll, rattling all the flatware on the counter. Old Seymour’s glare intensifies. 

“I have news,” he repeats, flipping his cup right-side-up for Billy to fill with coffee he doesn’t need, upcoming nightshift at the bar or no. 

Robin takes a guess, “You talked to you boss about getting the time off for the Hawkins trip?” she doesn’t sound that hopeful. 

And for good reason. “What? No,” Eddie dismisses her with a flapping hand, “I have an audition with a band!” 

“Gasp,” Robin says flatly. The only news Eddie gets this excited about is when he's auditioning, or sitting in, or has a lead on some new band seeking a guitarist. 

Eddie, by his own account, got his so-called day job (it’s nights, bar-backing) by just hanging around the bar/music venue he frequents all the time, bothering the bartenders (and selling them weed) until one of them slapped a rag in his hand and told him to make himself useful. Which suits him just fine to fill time while he chases his music dream. 

“Look, I'm going to Hawkins either way,” Eddie tells her with a carefree shrug, “If Rosco won't give me the time off I'll just quit and get a new job when we get back.” 

“See!” Billy says, slamming the coffee pot back into it's cradle, “You see how easy that is, Harrington? You lose a job, then you get another one. C'est la fucking vie.” 

Eddie leans around Robin to look at Steve, “Oh-ho. Did the little Lord Harrington finally break free from the yuppie rat race?”  

“No,” Steve says, and slurps a big sip of his milkshake. 

Steve didn’t get his own job at all, obviously. It was already lined up for him before they even rented the moving truck. It came pre-approved for him courtesy of his father and his father’s business connections. Steve's been working there for almost a year now, but he's still not entirely clear what they do. 

It's real-estate... kind of? The company buys properties, but they do it by selling shares in the properties to other companies, then they use that money to pay construction companies to tear down those properties and build new ones on the land. Those construction companies use that money to buy steel and other building shit from Steve’s dad’s plants back in Indiana (and Michigan). Then Steve's bosses sell the whole shebang for several butt-loads of money for them and their investors to start the game all over again. 

Steve’s job largely seems to involve standing around, insuring their side of the boardroom has the most men in suits at all times, and occasionally kissing investor ass. He’s a Junior Account Associate somehow. 

It’s soul crushing. 

“Aw, cheer up, Stevie,” Eddie says, slapping him on the back, “Look on the bright side, at least you can always keep our beer fridge stocked with that fat paycheck of yours.” 

Robin does Steve the favor of smacking Eddie upside the head. 

Steve decides to change the subject, “What’s the band called, Ed?” he asks, because that’s always good for a laugh at least. 

Eddie holds his hands in front of his face like he's framing a marquee, “ God of Gore ,” he announces in a theatrical growl. 

Steve snorts to himself. Yeah, that’s good shit. 

“And,” he goes on, voice rising in pitch as he gets more hyped up, “Get this, their last guitarist up and moved to Indiana! How's that for kismet? It's fate, I tells ya!” 

“Who would willingly move to Indiana,” Billy wonders, “The whole state's a toilet.” 

Not at all bothered by the shit talking of their home state, Eddie hops down of his stool and announces, “Speaking of which, gotta drain the snake.” 

While Robin is busy grimacing at that, Eddie wiggles incredibly unsubtle eyebrows at Billy. He gets a, much more subtle, jerk of the chin back, so Eddie slips right past the bathrooms and into the kitchen, and doubtless out the back door to smoke in peace, away from Robin’s judgmental gaze. He’s made vague, placating noises at her about cutting back, but he’s just been sneaking around behind her back, with Billy as an accomplice. 

Billy might be smoking more out of spite. 

Eddie's whirlwind act really made Steve feel like the sad-sack Billy accused him of being, and he’s sick of that feeling, gets more than enough of it everyday at work.  

All the silverware rattles as he slams a decisive hand down on the counter, much to Seymour’s ire. “You know what I think would make me feel better?” Steve asks loudly and rhetorically. 

He shoves away from the counter and heads straight for the jukebox. 

“No!” Billy booms, pointing at Steve like he’s a cat on the counter. 

Steve backs slowly down the aisle, facing Billy the whole way with big, guileless eyes. “What's that?” 

“You’re still banned for Bryan Adams crimes.” Honestly, Steve’s probably got a couple bans stacked at the moment. Billy doles them out liberally.  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hargrove,” Steve bumps into the jukebox because he still won’t turn away from Billy’s impotent glare. It's great, his ears are going red.  

“I call the shots here,” he tries, fruitlessly. 

“No you don‘t, Sal does,” Steve snorts, “And, anyway, I am a private citizen, this is a free country! My dime is as good as anybody’s!” He's been spending too much time with Eddie. 

Billy throws a spoon at him. 

Steve cackles as he plugs the jukebox. There’s a couple beats of bassy synthesizer. 

Billy tells him, “You’re a monster,” with feeling.  

Then— “ Watching every motion in my foolish lover’s game.”  

Steve slow dances back towards the counter, swaying to the dreamy beat of the bum-bum-bum-bubums, high on the joy of being deeply annoying. He slides back onto his stool just in time to dramatically sing along to, “ Take my breath awaaaaay,” right in Billy’s face. It's gone all red now, like the cherry on Steve's shake, which he happily pops between his grinning teeth. 

“It’s not my fault Sal won’t put Mötley Crüe in there,” Steve says, munching happily on his cherry. 

Billy storms off into the kitchen. 

“Someday,” Robin muses through he mouthful of fried onions, “he’s going to feed you a floor burger, and I’m not going to stop him. This song is sincerely awful.” 

“I like it,” Steve declares. 

“Of course you do.” Robin pats his hand condescendingly. 

She swivels on her stool to face him, a concerned little furrow in her brow, and ketchup on her cheek. “Seriously though, Steve, we could find you a different job. No problem. You got the job at Family Video, and Scoops before that.” Robin got him the job at Family Video, and he only got the job at Scoops because the first guy they hired showed up to the training stoned, but it’s nice of her to say. “You don’t need to stick it out because of your dad, you don’t need his help. It’s not your only option or whatever bullshit you’re worried about. You can get a different job. And, okay, no it wouldn’t pay as much, but you'd get by.” 

Robin wasn’t Steve’s first real friend or anything like that, he wouldn’t even say she’s his first good friend . But she’s definitely his best friend. Steve lays a hand over her slightly greasy one on the counter, and furrows his brow right back at her, “But then, Robin, who would keep the beer fridge stocked?” 

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her burger, “So we'd have to bid goodbye to Daddy Beer-bucks, we'd survive.” 

They would. Robin, Billy, and Eddie are resourceful, and smart, and self-sufficient, they’d figure out a way get by, even with Steve hanging like an anchor around their necks. But Steve hates the idea of dragging them down. Actually can’t stand it. He literally gets a stomach ache if he thinks too hard about it. When he can hear future Robin, somewhere down the line, when she’s sick of his shit, saying You can’t expect us to handle every little issue for you, dingus, in his head, except sometimes the ‘dingus’ morphs into ‘darling’ and imaginary-Robin sounds disturbingly like his mother (which doesn’t help the stomach ache problem at all). So he needs to keep bringing in enough money to pay his way. 

Steve just smiles at her. 

Billy reemerges from the kitchen to make a round of his tables, giving Steve the evil eye as he goes, before settling behind the counter to concentrate on glaring at Steve despite the fact that the song is long over by now, Eddie Money is playing now. Steve raises his eyebrows at his glare, “Don’t look at me, I’m all out of dimes.” 

Robin, perhaps prompted by Mr. Money asks, “Where'd Eddie go? He’s taking forever in there.” 

Billy silently points over her shoulder to where they can clearly see Eddie’s hunched form cowering miserably under the diner's awning from the unpleasantly warm rain that’s finally broken after threatening all day. He’s sucking down smoke like his life depends on it. Must not have been enough shelter in the alley when the rain started. 

“No!” Robin shouts, much like Billy had shouted at Steve earlier, and dashes out the door, bells cheerfully chiming her exit. Eddie takes a couple more panicked puffs before Robin gets to him and he has to start playing keep away with the butt. 

Steve watches them through the window for a couple seconds like a real life version of those weird old puppet shows, “What are those puppets that–“ 

“Punch and Judy,” Billy answers the unfinished question. 

He flicks a dime that bounces off Steve's forehead and drops to the counter with a ring-a-ting-ting. “Go put on some Springsteen, Bambi,” he says, smiling at him like he’s still a sad-sack, sure, but at least he’s one Billy’s kinda fond of, then he goes to top off Seymour’s coffee down at the far end of the other end of the diner. 

For Billy alone, Seymour’s got a great big smile.

Steve has stapled his tie to his desk. Which seems like the kind of thing most people would only do by accident. Not Steve, though. No, he simply got so bored that when the thought, I wonder if I could staple my tie to this desk right now, breezed through his head he went ahead and did it. 

Turns out he could, so he added a couple more staples for no better reason than the first one. 

Steve feels like his brain is melting out his ears which is maybe half boredom, half the heat. The AC has been in and out all week, something about the grid according to maintenance. Turns out a cracked window and a fan isn’t any more effective on the 10th floor of a Manhattan office building than it is in a ground level diner in the Bronx. 

“Harrington.” All the staples explode off his tie, flying all over his little hot-box of an office, when he jerks upright as Connor Michaels walks in to his office. The guy definitely notices the staples too, judging by the shitty little smirk on his face. 

The thing about all of Steve’s coworkers is that they hate him, because he’s clearly just a doofus nepotism hire who has no business working here. They all hide it behind a veneer of polite condescension while trying to use him as a connection since his last name is Harrington, though. It’s all so pathetically exactly like high school Steve can hardly stand it. 

Connor chuckles, “Tgif, am I right? Listen, I asked Laura to pull the permits for the Hell’s Kitchen property for me, but she’s on the rag or something and flipped out at me.” 

The other thing about Steve’s coworkers is that they’re all douchebags. 

“Okay,” Steve says to avoid stapling his smug face. 

“I know she does shit like that for you all the time, so think you could work your magic?” Connor wiggles his fingers vaguely that reminds Steve of how his mom would talk about his sport’s things any time it came up. 

Laura is the only exception to the douchebag rule. She’s smart, and competent, and the only woman at Steve’s level of management. She also hates Steve, but she doesn't try to hide it. She’s got integrity about it. The only reason she helps Steve with things like permits and filings is that she knows she’s the one who will have to clean up the mess if he royally screws it. She reminds him a lot of Robin in the early days of working at Scoops, just completely unimpressed by and uninterested in his King Steve bullshit. 

Steve does frequently throw himself on her mercy, she’s the only reason he hasn’t caused any serious problems so far. Which is maybe the other reason she keeps helping him, because he unreservedly admits that it’s a joke that they’re on the same level professionally. And not a funny one. 

Steve starts sweeping the staples that landed on his desk and not the floor into a pile, “Sure,” he says to Connor, hoping that’ll get him to leave. 

No luck. Instead he tucks his hand in his pockets and settles into a slouches against Steve’s wall, “How do you manage that anyway?” he asks lightly, “You tapping that?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “No.” 

Connor hums, “Yeah, not surprising. I bet she’s a dyke.” 

And maybe, on a different day, when Steve wasn’t already at his boiling point both figuratively and literally, he would have responded more... diplomatically.

“I quit my job,” Steve announces as he walks through the front door of his house.  

All three of his roommates turn to gape at him from the living room. 

They were all lounging around in the bare minimum of clothes required for the living room with two opposing fans pointed at them in an attempt at a cross breeze when Steve arrived home with his briefcase in a cardboard box with shockingly little else in the way of personal effects in it. He really hadn’t built up much of a presence at the office over the nearly a year he worked there. 

“What?” Robin exclaims, as she mutes the TV, “What happened?” 

“I threw a stapler at a guy’s head.” Steve answers. 

“A stapler?” Billy asks, baffled, “Why?” 

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, I also said a lot of shit, but the stapler was probably the button on it.” Steve drops his things, steps out of his wingtips, and starts tugging at his tie as he makes his way across the room, “It wasn’t even- Like, I mean, it was business as usual, really. It wasn’t anything new, and I just... lost it.” He’s down to his undershirt and boxershorts by the time he collapses between Robin and Billy on the couch with a massive sigh like a slowly deflating raft. 

“Right on man,” Eddie says from his spot on the armchair, leaning over to slap Steve’s knee, “I bet that guy had a stapler to the face coming.” 

He really did, Steve must concede. 

“Shit, I can’t believe I quit.” 

Robin makes a questioning noise, “Did you actually quit, or did they fire you? For the stapler thing?” 

“Who gives shit,” Billy says before Steve can tell them he’s not actually sure technically, “It’s done and dusted either way. Which calls for a celebration!” 

Billy bounces up off the couch and goes to the kitchen to collect a round of beers for everyone, he’s the only one who’s foregone a shirt so far, which is unsurprising. He pops the caps of with his ring before doling out the bottles. 

 “To casting off the corporate shackles!” Eddie toasts, Billy and Robin here-hereing it. 

Steve takes a big gulp of his beer. “What the hell am I gonna do?” he wonders aloud. 

“Celebrate!” Robin says, she’s also in a t-shirt and boxershorts, which she stole from Steve a while back for loungewear, “Like the man said.” 

Steve huffs, “I meant like, longer term. The rent and stuff.” 

“Don't worry, Stevie my boy,” Eddie says, clapping him on the back, “Once we find you a real person job you'll do just fine. After all, the rest of us plebs cover our fair shares with our piddly little paychecks, right?” 

Steve, caught out, hesitates a beat too long (long enough for Billy's bullshit radar to ping), before saying, “Right. Sure. Yeah,” in a way that clearly doesn’t cover for him. 

Billy squints at him, “We have all been covering our fair share of the rent, right, Harrington?” 

Steve nods but he can’t maintain eye contact when he answers, “Right. Fair shares.” 

Robin, catching on immediately, groans, “Oh god, Steve, tell me you haven’t been doing something outstandingly stupid, like paying half the rent, this whole freaking time.” When Steve doesn’t answer right away she screeches, “Steven!” 

“Not half! I haven’t, okay?” he rushes to explain, “Just, like,” he holds up his fingers pinched so close together, “A little more, than you guys.” 

“How much more,” Billy demands through clenched teeth. 

“Well,” Steve tries to think of how best to phrase it, “Imagine we had a fifth roommate, who's rent I have also been paying.” 

“So, double,” Billy’s basically growling now, “You've been paying double what the rest of us have. This whole goddamn time!” Steve hadn’t thought of it that way, but the math does check out. He thinks. 

“And... also the utilities,” he admits reluctantly. 

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie says, shaking his head sadly. 

“Fuck!” Billy shouts and storms off, stomping his way upstairs without anyone trying to stop him. When Billy removes himself from a situation, it’s best to let him. 

“I can probably still get the job back,” Steve offers, even though the thought makes him nauseous. He’ll eat shit if he needs to, “If I tell them I was on coke or something they might actually respect me more.” 

Eddie’s still shaking his head, but more decisively, “No way, man. We’re not letting you go crawling back to those corporate shitbags now, not a chance in hell.” 

“No other job I can get for myself is going to pay a quarter as well, though.” 

Robin backs Eddie up though, “You were miserable, Steve. None of us wants you to be miserable like that, not for any amount of money.” 

Steve still can’t just let it go, though, “But without that money- 

“There’s no need to panic, all we need is a plan. You’ve got savings, yeah? That’ll give us a cushion until you get a new job- we need to do a comprehensive household budget,” Robin says, like she’s already running numbers in her head, “We’ve been way too loosey-goosey about it, anyway.” Because they’ve been relying on Steve to smooth over any gaps. Not that they necessarily knew that. They’d just hit him up for beer and pizza sometimes and called it a Shill tax. 

“I don’t know how to do a budget,” Steve admits with an apologetic grimace. 

Eddie slings an arm over his shoulders and tries to pull him into some kind of wonky headlock while Steve resists him easily, “Don’t you fret, for you are a very lucky boy, with three wonderful roommates, whose collars are all extremely blue. We’ll show you the ropes.” 

“You know what the easiest expense to cut is?” Robin says brightly, “Cigarettes.” 

“You know what!” Eddie wheels on her, suddenly apparently at his limit on the whole smoking thing. 

Steve watches them bicker back and forth for a couple minutes. Even though it’s clear that this has been building for a while, and of course the inescapable heat doesn’t help, Steve can’t help but feel like it’s his fault for dropping a stress bomb on their heads. Or at least it feels very reminiscent of watching his parents fight about the wallpaper when what they really want to fight about is their miserable marriage. What’s the word for that? Displacement? 

Eventually he slips out, leaving Robin and Eddie to their squabbles he can’t really contribute to one way or the other and heads upstairs.

Billy's not in his room, but Steve didn’t really expect him to be. 

Halfway up the flight of stairs from the second floor to the third there's a window, and outside the window is a strip of roof, about five feet wide by ten feet long, and gently sloped, covering their porch below. Billy likes to sulk out there, especially since the weather turned, though not quite so much since it turned mean.  

Sure enough, the window is ajar and Steve can smell smoke. 

He sticks his hands out the window, palms out, he comes in peace, “I’m coming out,” he says, “Please don’t hurl me off the roof.” 

Billy doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t bite Steve’s head off either, which from him is basically an engraved invitation. 

Steve hauls himself up onto the little stretch of roof, crab walking over ‘til he can plant his butt next to Billy. Even though the sun is sinking fast the heat hasn’t broken at all. 

He snags the cigarette right out of Billy’s mouth as he settles next to him and takes a long, indulgent drag. He only grimaces a little at the taste, Billy and his fucking Marlboros. 

“Ooooh,” Billy deigns to speak to him, snatching his smoke back, “Robin's gonna be mad at you,”  

“More or less mad than when I tell her I'm not going to Hawkins this summer?” 

Billy's hand freezes with the cigarette just about back to his mouth. His lips, already parted to accept it, now just hanging slack pointlessly. “Seriously?” 

Steve shrugs, shooting for nonchalance, missing by a mile probably. “Figure I can do without getting the full rundown on what an embarrassing disappointment I am in person. I’m sure I’ll get the CliffsNotes from our answering machine anyway. Those were always more my speed.” 

He figures they'll share a laugh at that, but when he looks over Billy's not laughing. In fact, he's not even smiling, he just takes a rough drag off the cigarette and then hands it back to Steve without prompting. “If your dad leaves any blowhard message on our machine, I’m deleting them.” 

Steve’s not sure what to say to that so for a while they just pass the butt back and forth in silence until he screws up his courage to ask, "What about you? You mad at me?” with a wince, “About the rent thing.” 

“Well I’m not fucking thrilled about it, Harrington.” 

Yeah, that was obvious. 

Billy runs an agitated hand through his hair leaving his curls, already frizzy from the humidity, even more messed up. “Thought- it felt like we were making it. Doing it for real, you know? Standing on my own two feet like a man,” he scoffs to himself, “ Stupid.” 

Billy’s got a very specific tone he does when he’s quoting his dad, and Steve fucking hates it. 

“You are,” Steve insists. Billy quirks an eyebrow at him, and Steve scrambles to clarify, “Making it. Not stupid. You’re making it.” 

“Not without a heaping helping of charity apparently. I can’t-” 

“It wasn’t charity, dickhead!” Billy’s mouth snaps shut, and thank god for that, because Steve has no more interest in hearing what Neil Hargrove would have to say about his son than Billy does in suffering through phone messages from Richard Harrington. “It just made sense. I took that stupid job from my dad, and the paycheck was the only good goddamn thing about it. And you guys have all this other stuff going on. You and Robin have school, and Eddie’s trying to do his whole music thing. I mean, what the hell else was I supposed to do with all that stupidly easy money I was barely really earning? Other than use it to buy you guys food, and beer, and, yeah, pay the fucking rent!” He’s worked up a good head of steam, but he deflates immediately in the wake of his outburst, “I mean, what the hell else am I bringing to the table here?” 

Suddenly self-conscious in the silence that follows, and way too aware that he’s breathing a little heavy, Steve snatches the cigarette from Billy’s hand. Takes a huffy little puff, like someone who doesn’t know how to inhale, then takes a slower, more measured one. 

“You sell yourself short, you know,” Billy says, uncharacteristically quiet. Steve looks over at him, but Billy's not looking back, he's gazing out across their neighborhood instead. 

“Look,” he goes on, slow and awkward, “I don’t exactly know where I'd be right now, if not for you. But, I know I wouldn’t be here .” He throws his arms out wide to encompass all of New York City, and their whole life here. 

It's not like they have a spectacular view or anything, they're not up remotely high enough for that. Their sagging little strip of roof, on their rundown building, isn’t even facing the glittering Manhattan skyline. Down below them a taxi driver is shouting at a truck that’s blocking a cross street. The humidity is oppressive and the heat makes the streets stink like garbage, and it’s not like it’s any cooler in the house. 

Their whole life here? It doesn’t actually look like very much from the outside. 

Steve gets it though. 

He jostles their shoulders together, “You would have gotten out. You would have made it anyway.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Billy plucks the cigarette out of Steve’s grasp, kills the last of it and pitches the butt to the street below. Steve watches the glowing trail of the cherry as it falls. 

“You know,” Billy says after a long stretch of mostly comfortable silence, “If you don’t go to Hawkins, you’re gonna have to let Eddie drive the beemer.” 

“Shit, I didn’t think of that.” He waves off the thought, “Can’t be helped. I need to start the job search anyway.” 

Steve thinks about that process for all of thirty seconds before he groans, “Man, my resume is gonna be so fucking weird.” Steve lists his employment record out on his fingers, “Scoops Ahoy, burned down. Family Video... I don’t think I gave notice at Family Video, I think I just left and didn’t come back. Kensington Group Limited, assaulted a co-worker with stationary.” 

“Well, if all else fails, you know Eddie would love to fake some references for you,” Billy says, “Bet he’ll do voices and everything.” 

“Just what I need. A reference from Gondelf.” 

Billy snorts a laughs, “It’s Gandalf, you know it’s Gandalf.” He’s right, Steve knows that, because Eddie never shuts up about that book. 

“Mmm, pretty sure it’s Gondelf. I mean, he’s an elf, right?” Billy just rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, and listing a little towards Steve. 

“Billy,” Steve speaks softly, earnestly. Billy hums back a question, “Would you... get me a job at the diner?” 

Billy explodes with laughter, “Fuck no!” 

“C’mon,” he wheedles, through his own laughter, “We can commute together! Sal loves you. Be a pal, put in a good word for me!” 

Billy punches him in the shoulder, “Sure, I’ll tell him you’re a chronic masturbator and that I’ve never seen you wash your hands.” 

“Thanks, buddy. I really appreciate that.” 

Billy grabs the shoulder of Steve’s shirt and rattles him around a bit like a dog with a squeaky toy, “I’m going to shove you off this roof,” he threatens through laughter. 

They lapse into giggly silence and then just silent silence. Billy keeps his grip on Steve’s shirt like he’s worried he might actually go toppling over the edge after all if Billy doesn’t keep a tight hold. 

Or maybe he’s just forgotten that his hand is there. 

“Hey,” Steve says after a while, just to get Billy to look him in the eye, “We’re gonna be fine,” he reassures him once he has. 

Billy’s undivided attention is always intense, eyes like blue lasers locked on to a target. It used to freak Steve out in high school, but he’s gotten used to it. It’s just how Billy is. Sharp like that. 

Sharp enough that he reads Steve like a goddamn book and knows that as much as Steve really was trying to reassure him, he was also, maybe just a bit, fishing for reassurance too. 

“We’re gonna be fine,” Billy parrots. 

They stare at each other, probably for too long, sitting in a little loop of comforting and being comforted. And Steve, he believes it. They’re gonna be fine. 

They have each other.

[oh-stars]

Ice Bath

wc: 509 | cw: N/A | gen rating | for @steddiemicrofic | Prompt: "edge"

---

Steve feels ancient. He may be active and still the strongest of their team, but he can feel his body fighting against him more and more every day. It’s like it wants to crumble under the weight, his knees cracking and the discs in his spine wobbling. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t fighting to keep what little remains intact. 

He spends hours every day training his body to be at its prime, to show off a finesse of strength and agility that most people have lost with comfort. Runs, weights, extreme obstacles; you name it and Steve has it in his workout routine. 

Steve shivers as he steps into the ice bath, trying to soothe his inflamed muscles and numb the pain… everywhere. Another grueling part of his routine. 

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself,” Eddie says from his spot on the closed toilet seat. “You’re miserable every time—“

“It helps,” Steve says, “even if it sucks in the moment.”

Robin hums a note from the ‘um, actually’ scale and kicks her feet so her heels bang against the cabinets beneath her seat on the counter. “Is it really worth it?” 

Another necessary evil to his routine: the peanut gallery. 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut. “Yes,” his teeth clatter with the syllable. He tries to even his breathing, taking in intentional breaths to distract from the biting chill. 

“Really?” Eddie asks, incredulously. Without looking, Steve knows his eyebrow is raised and his arms are crossed as a teasing smile halfway between fond and something Steve can never pinpoint dances on his face. 

“Is this about your youth again?” Robin asks, using a blend of her 'Steve' voice and a British accent — the voice she and Eddie use to tease him about his vanity or the silly ideals his parents shoved down his throat. 

Eddie gasps, adopting the same voice, “Oh can’t you see our dearest Steven is wilting before our eyes, Robilina?” 

Robin also gasps and Steve just knows they’re swooning into one another. “Oh Edwarnold,” she yelps, “whatever will we do?” 

Steve sighs and runs a hand over his face, dropping ice-cold water all over himself. He’s submerged to his chest, but at this rate, he wants to dunk himself and both of his loving dweebs under the layer of ice in his small bath. “Sue me for trying to keep my body in peak fitness,” he says, glaring at their giggling faces, ��some of us actually have to fight.” 

Eddie gasps for real this time, leaning forward as his eyes narrow. “This isn’t about you getting old,” he crows, “this is about Wheeler beating you in the relay!” 

He throws up his hands, water splashing and revealing more of his pebbled skin. “I’ve lost my edge! It wasn’t even a close race!”

Robin laughs so hard she’s crying as Eddie leans forward to kiss Steve’s hair, a condensing gesture he won’t ever turn down. 

Steve continues, “I’ll take losing to Nancy, fine, but Mike? How the hell did I lose to Mike Wheeler?”

—

Thanks @lady-lostmind for betaing 💜

[doobnnoob-tf2]

The Mercs go to the park. What are each of them up to?

Scout: he's the first one out of the vehicles, not even waiting for them to completely stop before he's out of his seatbelt and throwing open the door. he starts off attempting to flirt with a few moms there, before he turns his attention to a group of kids playing catch. he spends the rest of the afternoon there teaching them how to properly play baseball

Soldier: no one knows how he did it, someone suspects he stole a bag of peanuts from an old lady. but he's gotten together all of the squirrels in the area and has trained them into being his own, personal army. some are even wearing acorn caps as tiny helmets and they all sit up in trees and pelt every adult, child, and animal with various nuts as they pass by below

Pyro: they immediately bolt for the play equipment before anyone can stop them, which startles quite a few of the parents. however, when a group of older kids enter the park and start to bully some of the younger kids, they're quick to scare them all off. after that, the parents appoint them the park babysitter for the afternoon and they spend the rest of their time playing on the equipment with the kids

Demoman: it's hot outside, so he grabbed his swim trunks and goes right for the water area with all the sprinklers and whatnot. he gets many looks, but no one bothers him after he starts pretend fighting the giant dragon that sprays water out of its mouth from time to time. it's entertaining for the adults and kids. it all comes to an end when after he thinks he's defeated the beast, it blasts him in the back. he has a very dramatic death scene and the kids all go pick flowers to lay on his "corpse"

Heavy: he goes and finds a shady bench to sit at with Medic, both to people watch and to feed the birds. he brings along one of his books as well as a portable music player to enjoy since they wanted to have their own private space without bothering anyone else. eventually, he has to take over feeding the birds solely and ends up covered in them by the time they're due to leave

Engineer: he already knew the park had a cookout area, and brought along things to cook for the team. what he didn't expect to have happen was for everyone else there to start bringing over things they brought as well for him to cook too. often paying him in beer to do so. he doesn't mind at all and enjoys the company it brings. however, there are several husbands and dads that glare at him from afar for showing them up when suddenly no one wants their cooking anymore

Medic: he finds a nice, shady, quiet spot with Heavy to sit and listen to music and chat and feed birds with. what he wasn't expecting however was for there to be a stowaway. not long into feeding the birds, he has a very jealous Archimedes attacking his head for daring to give other birds attention. which quickly turns into him watching Heavy feed the birds while he handfeeds Archimedes on his lap

Sniper: he said his plans to everyone before leaving: he was going to find a spot in the grass and lay down and take a nap. and when he got there, that's just what he did. he found himself a very nice spot, laid down, and dropped his hat on his face to sleep. someone eventually looks over and sees he's missing. no one thinks of it until they hear talks of a man who was currently in the dog park area, covered in dogs and playing with them all while their owners watch on

Spy: he sees the lawn care people leaving as they're pulling in and already knows what's to come. he smells the fresh cut grass the moment Scout opens the door and bails out and he can feel his eyes watering and getting itchy. he has a grass allergy and ends up turning into a miserable, grouchy mess, finding himself a bench far, FAR away from the others to sit at. he sits and complains to himself in as many languages are he can, sneezing and resisting every urge to rub his eyes

[thewritingofspencerrose]

general masterlist

Max Verstappen x Single!Mom OC

can you tell i'm finishing up/ cleaning out my drafts? this is based on max's padel match with other drivers a few races back that kelly & p attended

"If it isn't my favorite little muppet!" Lando's voice is the first to reach us as we enter the facility, Claire's entire face lighting up at the sight of Max's friend. Although it's not just Max and Lando, there's Daniel, and a few other drivers that we have been acquainted with, most that I recognize from the track but cannot for the life of me remember the name of.

"Mijn liefje," Max whispers into my hair, kissing the top of my head before hauling Claire into his arms, peppering kisses all over her face and pulling giggles from her little lips.

Five years old and you'd never know there was a time she was a colicky baby for months on end. You'd never know when she's around Max.

"Sorry we're late, someone decided to spray her juice box all over all over the front of my dress," I muse, partly amused by her and also still bothered that the once-white dress is now stained.

Max just chuckles, shaking his head at our girl before he pulls me to his since once more, kissing the side of my head. "You look gorgeous regardless. Thank you for coming."

His eyes are shining, nearly brighter than all of the lights in this court.

"Of course, Love, you know we appreciate any extra time we get with you," and I truly mean it. "Plus, this gives Claire a perfect place to run around so we're not cooped up with a crazy lady tonight in the hotel," I joke, said little girl giggling brightly.

"She enjoys the chaos she brings," Max's comment makes her laugh more, ever clearer that she has certainly been raised in part by him. For the last two years that we've been together he's been her second parent, her father figure, and it's obvious day in and day out that she's taking after him.

"Max, mate, don't hog my favorite members of your household!"

Lando's voice reminds me of the other driver's presence. His arms reach out, stealing Claire and throwing her onto his shoulders, wandering away without even a greeting.

"Be careful with her!" Max is quick to remind, taking my hand into his and pulling me along, closer to his work friends.

"Are you going to introduce us?" One I know to be Yuki asks, approaching us all from the other side of the court, lunchbag in hand.

He doesn't wait for an answer though, turning to me with a smile. "Can I share a snack with her?"

"Oh," my hand comes to my heart, "She has a couple allergies, so it depends on what the snack is?" Max's hand slips from mine to my waist, looking down at the Japanese driver.

"She's allergic to peanuts and gluten," He offers, offering a small smile.

Yuki nods, going over to Lando's shoulders and beginning a broken conversation with Claire, handing her what looks to be an apple slice.

"Schatz, these are my fellow drivers, Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Fernando Alonso, Yuki Tsunoda, and then you know Lando," Max introduces, pointing to each man as he names. He turns to me now, smiling down on me as he speaks words meant for his friends. "This is my girlfriend Jean," He begins, turning to where Claire is still perched on Lando, "and our daughter Claire."

Our daughter.

I can't help how large my smile gets, looking up at Max like he's the sun. Because to me he is.

"You have a child?" Alonso is the one to ask, chuckling to himself, elbowing Carlos. "Man beats me on the tracks and to having a child, que sigue (what's next)?"

Typically I would join the boys in there laughter, but I'm too focused on the near tears in Claire's eyes as she stares at a laughing Max.

"You called me your daughter?"

That sends a pause over everyone.

"Wait, she is not his child?" Carlos questions, meant to be a quiet comment to his teammate.

"You're my daughter in the ways that matter," Max answers, pulling away from me and to take our tearful girl from Lando, hugging her tight to the space between us.

"Max and I got together when Claire was two, she's five now," I explain, offering a small smile to Max's friends.

"He's my dad," Claire smiles, arms wrapped tight around his neck.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you both," Charles is the one to greet. "It is nice to meet those who are Max's family."

"And it is nice to meet the famous inchedent man- i mean, his track family."

Everyone laughs once more, Max kissing my head. "You're a menace. No wonder Claire is chaos."

Claire just giggles, "You love us."

Max just smiles, shaking his head.

"I do."

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 5: DESTINY

I'm a week late on this post because I had some stuff going on last week, but let's go!

The opening scene reintroduces us to Ice Finn, who was briefly cursed by Evergreen's crown. We see him abducting a family, who will become part of the pile of frozen bodies that made up the area where he and the Lich opened a portal to the Multiverse in Crossover. At the end of that episode Prismo moved the crown to the site of the Mushroom Bomb's explosion, freeing Farmworld Finn from the curse. But he remains a frightening figure in Farmworld's mythology, as demonstrated by this scarecrow that Simon steals his new clothes from.

Fionna telling Simon to relax because she's an expert at post-apocalyptic RPGs is ironic considering that Simon has survived and raised a child in an actual apocalypse.

Big Destiny appears alongside returning Destiny Gang members Tromo (far left) and Trami (fifth from left, just next to the mast). Tromo was assumed to be a boy in her first appearance; it's possible she's transed her gender. Big Destiny claims he was the one who defeated Ice Finn, which is most definitely not the case, but it seems like nobody is in the mood to dispute his claim.

This is Farmworld Wildberry Princess. She's a butcher just like her Ooo counterpart. Fionna also assaults Farmworld Starchy, and Farmworld Chet is the guy who was surprised to hear that Cake could talk. I'm not sure if there are any other recognisable characters amongst the crowds at the Farmworld meeting place, except of course for...

Choose Bruce! He was the person who gave Farmworld Finn his sword-arm in his debut episode, and is obviously the Farmworld version of Choose Goose. The evilness of his Ooo counterpart doesn't seem to have manifested in quite the same way, except that he is as shady a salesman as ever.

Fionna has a copy of a magazine called Mle, which seems to be the Fionna and Cake version of Ble. She also has Finn's iconic flute.

Peanut exclaims "magic fist" when he sees Cake use her powers, which was the name of Finn and Jake's wizard disguise when they entered the tournament in the episode Wizard Battle.

Peanut also mentions Fionna's missing nose, which is the first time someone has brought up the art style discrepency in canon. Fionna does in fact have a nose. It's just not drawn in her universe's art style.

Farmworld Finn's house is reminiscent of the Tree Fort, with its corrugated roof, haphazard wooden construction, steel chimneys, and the ladder steps leading up the trunk of the tree behind. But it still has its own unique design.

And here is Farmworld Finn himself! His retractable axe-arm is cool.

He is a widower with five children. As you probably already know, Jay (previous image) and Bonnie (third on left) are named after Finn's kids from Puhoy, who were themselves named after corruptions of Jake and Princess Bubblegum's names. The other three kids on the right are unnamed in the episode's credits, but have characteristics of some of Finn's other "children". The first on the right could represent Neptr, who Finn created in the episode What is Life. The middle on the right likely represents Stormo, who was spawned from Finn's DNA in the episode Goliad. The far right can't really be identified with any existing characters, but he has green eyes like Huntress Wizard, perhaps symbolising the potential of Finn's relationship with her or even being an explicit indicator that Farmworld Huntress was the mother of these children.

Jake is still alive in this universe. He was possessed by the Lich for a while, but was freed at the end of Crossover.

Finn throws a stick of bubblegum into the soup for some reason. I've seen various theories about what this is meant to mean but none of them really seem likely to me. It was probably just a nod to the fact that Princess Bubblegum doesn't appear anywhere else in Farmworld.

Old lady Marceline's broken laser gun and Farmworld Finn's sword arm are mounted on the wall, alongside other artifacts.

Bonnie has doodled a Candy Kingdom on the wall.

This is the first of at least two times that Cake suggests selfcest.

This is the crater from when the Mushroom Bomb blew up. Just like in its original appearance, it remains unclear why its impact was small compared to the bombs that exploded during the war. Perhaps time dulled its power, or perhaps the Lich's spirit was enough to make it more threatening than any conventional nuclear weapon. As previously mentioned, the crown got blown up here because Prismo teleported it here in Crossover. Out-of-universe, this was an explanation for a minor continuity error where the crown was present in a scene it shouldn't have been in during Finn the Human.

Little Destiny is afflicted by a lesser version of the curse of Evergreen's crown, since she's only wearing one of the jewels. This is why Jay says she feels cold.

Bartram! This is Farmworld Finn's beloved mule. He was reluctant to sell Bartram in order to pay off the Destiny Gang, which was the catalyst for his discovery of Evergreen's crown. It's good to see that he was at least able to keep his mule after that whole ordeal.

This show has conditioned us to expect blood when someone dies, so perhaps Farmworld Finn isn't dead despite this looking like a killing blow. Either way, I don't think we'll be seeing him again.

The dream in this episode's credits is a bunny with a sword.

[avengersfantasies]

The Captain's Daughter - 2

Summary: Maybe Bucky isn't so bad.

Series masterlist here

Taglist: @frickin-bats @pattiemac1 @justsebstan @winterslove1917 @crist1216 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @kandis-mom @vonalyn @mavrellover91 @natashasilverfox @gojoismysensei @itsafamilyshow @casa-boiardi @ilovetaquitosmmmm

The two of you walked through the dense forest for hours, finally resting at a secluded, thankfully abandoned campsite. There were two tents, and a rock wall blocked the remnants of a campfire. You and Bucky looked around – making sure that you were, in fact, alone and there wasn’t anyone hiding out nearby.

            “I’ll go get some firewood,” Bucky informed you with a sigh as he walked past you. You were busy trying to make sure the tents were still in good condition due to the storm that was due to come through tonight. You didn’t respond to him, too concerned with ensuring you’d have a safe place to rest for the night. You sat in your tent and took out your water bottle. Now that a fresh-water creek was nearby, you could afford to chug as much as you needed. “We need to eat,” Bucky’s voice called out to you.

            You came out of the tent with your water bottle in hand. “Well, when you die, I’ll be eating good,” you grinned smugly.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you scoffed – throwing your bottle into the tent. “Well, should we order a pizza?”

The soldier shook his head in disbelief. “Your sarcasm isn’t helping.”

“It’s helping me,” you chuckled, throwing him a can of peanuts from your backpack. “Bon appetit.”

“What’s with the snarky attitude?” he asked as he opened the can of peanuts and put one between his teeth to crack open.

You walked up to him with a sultry expression. “Maybe I want you to fuck it out of me, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows and looked down at you. “That, my dear, will not be happening.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like I’d even want an old man to fuck me,” you said as you walked back to the little area you had set up and took out your own can of peanuts.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Bucky’s voice was flat and unamused.

You exhaled. “I don’t need a babysitter, alright?” you finally admitted. “You don’t have to be here…just go do what you want, and I’ll tell my dad you’re with me.”

“I promised your dad I’d watch out for you,” Bucky argued. “I keep my promises.”

You groaned and shrugged. “Then you should probably get used to the attitude if you’re gonna be with me twenty-four-seven.”

“Guess I’ll have to,” Bucky smiled flatly and finished his can of peanuts. “Goin’ to get water…need some?”

You looked at him with a confused expression. “I can get my own, thanks.”

He shook his head and picked up his water bottle, going to the creek for cold, fresh water.

            You and Bucky kept your distance for the rest of the evening before retiring to your respective tents for the night. You could hear the storm coming from miles away, and it hit the flimsy tents before either of you had time to react. The rain easily tore through the old fabric of the tents and soaked your bodies.

            “Bucky!” you yelled out through the harsh winds, wanting him to be there for once.

            “Over here!” he called out. He was doing what you were – gathering what he could quickly. There wasn’t much either of you could grab before you needed to run. You each grabbed what was essential and left everything else behind. “We have to go!” he yelled, starting to run off into the surrounding woods. You desperately tried to grab the photo of you and your mother and throw it in your bag. It was submerged in the water, and you were trying to find a place to put it so it’d be safe. “Let’s go!” he kept yelling. You looked up and saw the tornado heading your way, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you were scared. Moments before the tornado reached the campsite, you took off like a shot towards Bucky and let him guide you through the woods. The tornado chased the two of you like it was being driven or steered in your direction. “Keep running!” Bucky yelled out when he realized you were growing tired and falling behind. He reached his left hand back and grabbed your wrist – pulling you up to match his speed.  In the distance, you noticed a silver door on the ground, and you pulled Bucky towards it.

“Bucky!” you shouted – trying to pull him towards what you believed was an underground cellar. “This way!”

He scanned the area and didn’t see anyone or anything nearby, so he gave you the go-ahead. He watched as you broke the lock on the cellar door and climbed inside. You flashed the flashlight around the small cellar and let out a sigh of relief when you confirmed it was clear.

Bucky climbed down into the small room and closed and locked the door above him – making sure it was barricaded with something strong enough to hold the violent storm back. Once you were both safe inside, you looked around the small room.

“Great,” you scoffed. “One bed.”

“You take it,” Bucky insisted. “I grabbed some blankets from the tent…I’ll make a pallet.”

You felt terrible as you watched him take the wet blankets out of his backpack, and you stopped him. “No,” you said, “we uh…we can share.”

“Are you sure about that?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow.

You nodded. “It’s big enough.”

Bucky nodded and headed over to the twin-sized bunk. “You think so?” he chuckled and motioned to the sliver of mattress left uncovered by his body.

In that moment, you realized you were starting to be okay with this little situation. “Well…we may have to touch a little bit,” you pointed out as you climbed into the bed next to him.

Your breath hitched when you felt his arm on your shoulder, and he could sense that you were nervous because he made sure not to move. Truth be told, you liked how he felt.

“I’m not going to touch you, darling,” he told you – his voice calm and quiet. “I know you’d absolutely hate that.”

“Yeah, totally,” you scoffed. You were honestly trying to convince yourself more than him. “I don’t want an old man to touch me.”

You couldn’t see the smirk on his face. “Then why aren’t you moving?”

Unable to come up with an answer to his question, and not actually wanting to move away from him, you closed your eyes and pretended to sleep until you actually fell asleep in his arms.

“That’s what I thought,” he answered your silence with a soft chuckle and kiss to the top of your head.

[pearl-granger]

~Recipes for your dumb annoying fucks!~ (yes this is poison)

!!Caution use proper safety like gloves and goggles will making these!!

1 } Apple and almond smoothie:

Take a hand full of apple seeds and bitter almonds, and turn them into powder in a grinder.

Add the powder in in a blinder with one cup of water.

Mix two parts of ammonia and two parts of bleach to make chloramine.

Add the chloramine in the blender along side the water.

Add two flowers and five seeds of foxglove.

Add one drop of yellow and red/orange food coloring.

Add two drops of apple flavouring and apple & almond scent if you want too.

Blend it throughly and serve in a smoothie cup decorated with a straw and a mini umbrella! :3

2 } Flower ice-cream:

Simply whip 2 cups of heavy cream, by hand or with an electric mixer, until stiff peaks form.

Slowly drizzle in a chilled can of sweetened condensed milk. Next your gonna make our add in.

Take flowers from lily of the valley, nightshade, bleeding heart, angels trumpet, hemlock, thornapple or and fucking poisonous flower you find and plop it in the bowl.

Remove to an airtight container and freeze.

take it out of the freezer and scoop a generous amount is a glass bowl and decorate it using rose petals cuz we are soo kind<3

(yes half of this recipe was from google but who cares? i don't.)

3 } Granola bar:

Take a half a cup of apple seeds, bitter almonds, mistletoe berries, mandrake berries, belladonna seeds, nightshade berries and add them to a big ass mixing bowl.

In that bowl add 2 egg whites, a cup of peanut butter, and one and only one teaspoon of honey. (it's too precious to be wasted on bitches)

Mix it. with your hands spatula, a mixer. idc. mix it.

Next flaten the mixture that we made that can even scare satan off (but we won't cuz his on our side ladies!!!🗣🗣) on a baking tray or a plate with covered with parcement paper.

throw it (not literally) in the freezer. keep it there for 4 hours.

After those long four hours you prbly sent making out or reading fanfic's, go check on it any take it out.

Now cut in the size you want and give your lovely unwanted visitor a snack next time him comes around unannouced! ;P

4 } Tea:

(my 1940's housewife side awoke while writing this my ancsetors are proud <3)

Take leaves from bleeding heart, thorn apple, nightshade, mistletoe, mandrake, lily of the valley and any other leaf you wanna add.

Dry them. it's the middle of the night i wrote it once it got deleted once i'm not writing it again. ask youtude or google.

Go and buy or make tea bags while the leaves are drying. and stuff the tea bags with the leaves after the leaves have dried.

if you don't wanna use tea bags use a strainer or smth idk.

When the next time the old hag or aunt who continuously tried to push you in to a toxic marriage with their son/daughter asks for tea give them this :D

sleep tight and don't let the patriarchy take away your basic human and murder rights! :)

@bedlambrainworm