#and i have to work a proper. 8-5 job now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

danieyells · 1 year ago

Note

hi there,

thank you so much for all the voicelines you post !! if it’s okay, can i request subaru’s ?

thank you again !

You're welcome! At some point I might go back and put in the ones I leave out because they don't appeal to me as much lol but since i always end up posting 99% of them anyway I think it's enough for most people hahaha. It's all of them now! Sorry for the delay.

I WAS GONNA OMIT ONE OR TWO BECAUSE OF SPOILERS but eh i'll just warm for like. extra spoilers. since after doing more code peeking it wasn't the spoiler i thought it was. SUBARU IS A SWEETIE THOUGH. I also read Subaru's chats which were put in the code recently and. Man this guy needs anxiety meds. I have a small guess as to what his stigma is, but we'll learn in a few days anyway.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. It's wonderful to see you again."

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"It looks like there's a notice for you. I'd be happy to go pick it up for you if you've got your hands full. Oh, forgive me if I'm overstepping."

oh no he's anxious about helping--

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"I really am so lucky to be surrounded by so many kind people like you."

"I never thought I'd get the chance to enjoy the lifestyle of a student until I came to Darkwick. Every day truly is fulfilling here."

it feels like subaru is like. . .the only one who actually enjoys school life here. . .or who really enjoys being here period lmao. . . .

"You think I'm always smiling? Ha ha, I hear that a lot. It just happens when I'm around all of you."

"I may be the captain, but it's just in name. I think Haku is much better suited for the job than me."

"I've been working since I was four, so people often said I was mature for my age. But the truth is, I've still got a lot to learn."

that makes two characters whose parents have essentially been keeping them from normal life and normal childhood for work reasons since they were four year olds. . . .

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"I tend to just have hot water for breakfast. I know it would be better for me to eat a proper meal, but it's just so much effort."

DO WE REALLY HAVE TO START WITH "I NEED THE GHOULS TO EAT PROPER FUCKIN MEALS". . . .

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm sorry I'm so late. The campus is so crowded I can never manage to walk in a straight line, so it always takes me longer than I think. Silly, isn't it?"

baby you're hardly the first person i've met with anxiety about crowds. you're fine.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What would I do without Haku's help? Hotarubi would be a mess without him."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I wonder if I should apply early to take out any common artifacts I might need for this mission. I'll ask Haku what he thinks..."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Ah! You surprised me there... I just got back from a small errand. Do you need something?"

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Ever since I was a child, the performing arts were my only focus. Maybe that's why people always say my mannerisms are so peculiar. It bothers you too, doesn't it?"

poor boy doesn't know how to act if he isn't acting. . .he doesn't know how to exist off-script. . .no wonder he made a deal with a demon. it's probably the first thing he's ever done for himself.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'd like to go to the cafeteria, but the line is always so long. I feel bad taking time to choose while people are waiting behind me. The bar of entry feels a little high."

i am once again suggesting subaru get anxiety meds. hell go to sinnostra and get some weed, i bet they sell that. i hear it can help.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm just about to go and meet a friend. I hate to inconvenience you like this, but if it's something urgent, could you speak to Haku about it instead?"

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What am I going to do? We're supposed to be meeting up in an hour... If I cancel now, they'll hate me..."

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Whew... I'll walk you back to your house, {PC}. Oh, it's no problem at all, I assure you! I wanted some fresh air anyway."

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"I have an Anomalous Ecology test coming up. It's such a fascinating subject, I couldn't help but stay up all night studying. Now I'm a little sleep-deprived."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm going to stretch my legs a little. I might not have a show to practice for right now, but I need to keep putting myself through my paces. I'll get rusty otherwise."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm sorry my phone's been making so much noise. I recently downloaded an app by mistake, and it won't stop sending me notifications..."

awww he's also technologically incompetent. . .poor guy was probably raised with such a heavy focus on his career he just. never needed a smartphone. anyone he needed to contact or who needed to contact him was probably always very close by. it sounds like he didn't even properly go to school before going to Darkwick. Somebody please take this boy on a walk. like anywhere. take him to a library. buy him a churro. can sho make churros? this is somebody who's never had any sort of normal social experience and sees how different he is and wishes it weren't the case, unlike Ritsu who assumes everyone else is like him, i think he'd like to have some more Experiences.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"... ...Oh! Hello, {PC}—I didn't even notice you there. My mind was somewhere else."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning! Sorry? My hair's messy? You're right, it's sticking right up at the front... That's embarrassing. I'll fix it right away."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I usually have lunch in the dormitory. I do eat on the terrace with Lyca every now and then, but he seems so busy these days..."

Lyca is one of the members of Obscuary, btw! Seems like he and Subaru are friends.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I didn't take you for a night owl, {PC}. Since you're here, I suppose I'll stay up a little longer. You're sure you're okay? You're not sleepy?"

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Do you visit Sinostra very often, {PC}? I see... Oh, no reason. I was just making conversation. Ha ha."

why do you ask that. . .a certain mafioso captain wouldn't happen to be suspicious of you would he. . .or maybe you owe them money. . .or maybe you used to be part of Sinostra and moved to Hotarubi. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's getting late, {PC}. How about we finish this tomorrow? Thank you for keeping me company all this time."

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to come all the way to my room to wake me up—I'd feel terrible. I do very much appreciate the thought, though."

it's okay buddy jin already makes them do it, one more pit stop won't hurt.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oh, hello, {PC}. Sorry, I was actually just on my way out. I should be back by evening—do you mind if we speak then?"

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Lyca has seen my message, so why hasn't he responded to it? I hope nothing bad has happened to him..."

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Lyca will adapt well to human society, I'm sure of it. I'm so relieved that Darkwick chose to trust him. I can't thank you enough for your help."

he really likes Lyca huh? that is his dog.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"You can't sleep? Then let me tell you some stories. Legend has it that evil spirits appear once you've told a hundred. Now, what number was I up to..."

BOY IS TRYNA GET YOUR ASS HAUNTED.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I don't want to seem like I'm testing you, I just... I get really anxious sometimes... I'm sorry. I'm being weird, aren't I?"

he's the type to ask 'are you sure you love me? are you sure you wanna be with me?' after you get married and move in together and own a house and have two kids with another on the way. he's the hyper anxious 'i'm sorry we disagreed about our favorite colors do you hate me?' friend(affectionate) I wonder though, is he apologizing for seeming like he's testing you because he's using his stigma to see what you've been up to or something. . .? Probably not lol it's more likely he just keeps asking if you like him

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"There is no time like spring. Everyone seems more relaxed this time of year. It's reassuring to see."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I have some sakura mochi. I was just about to prepare some tea to go with it—would you like to join me?"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"They have no control over whether they bloom, and yet they get made a spectacle of nonetheless... Oh, sorry—I was talking about the cherry blossoms."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"There are many different flowers growing in Hotarubi, but I think the wisteria are my favorites. This is the best time to see them, so you should take a walk around."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Hot today, isn't it? It's always raining in Hotarubi, so it does provide a little escape from the blazing summer sun, but... Ha ha. It is very humid, isn't it?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Summer makes me think of the ghost story Yotsuya Kaidan. The scene where Oiwa becomes hysterical, having realized her her face has been disfigured— incredible."

Yotsuya Kaidan is one of the best known japanese ghost stories! It's extremely violent, so read the summary at your discretion. The scene in question has Oiwa shown her reflection by her sister's boss to see that the cream she was given by a woman who was in love with her husband was actually some sort of poison that instantly scarred her face. She grabs a sword and goes to kill her, only for her to accidentally slit her own throat.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Hotarubi House holds regular festivals during the summer months. If you need a yukata to wear, I'd be happy to pick one out for you."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't mind scary stories, but when that biwa in the tea room started playing by itself, it did make me jump a little..."

slight spoiler, although you can probably figure it out from this but. . .Zenji is a ghost. Subaru currently can't actually see him or hear his voice. . .only Haku, the pc, and, perhaps not so oddly, Towa can afair. All of his youtube content doesn't have him or his voice in it because he can't be recorded by cameras. So Subaru doesn't realize that the biwa playing on its own is actually Zenji playing the biwa.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"The air has gotten crisper, and the leaves are changing color. I know it's only natural for the seasons to shift, so why does it make my heart ache so much?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Oh, these? They're some chestnuts I found. I know—I should give them to Sho. I'm sure he'll be able to make something delicious with them."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"That's another kuchikiri tea ceremony under my belt. It's an annual tradition where one cuts open a tea jar to reveal the tea that was preserved from the first harvest."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"On long autumn nights when the moon is shining beautifully in the sky, it's hard to resist taking a walk outside. Don't stay out until too late though, {PC}."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"...Oh, {PC}. Good morning... I had a hard time getting up today. It must be the cold... Ha ha. Not very captain-like, is it?"

Jin, Taiga, and Ed are all prone to not getting out of bed. and Yuri falls asleep on operating tables when he has down time. Trust me Subaru you are perfectly captain-like.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Today, I'm going to order ingredients from one of my favorite stores so we can all make negima—tuna and scallion—hot pot together. Please, do join us."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It's cold out today. I was just thinking about lighting the fire. Would you like to come and warm up with me?"

oh subaru you don't even know how that sounds

(between 8pm and 5am)

"People say winter makes you want to snuggle up with someone, but I find that a good blanket does a much better job."

i agree that blankets are much easier to manage than people lol. probably warmer too.

His birthday: (February 20th)

"A present? For me? Thank you... I didn't expect you to do anything for my birthday, so I'm a little caught off guard. I really appreciate it."

Your birthday:

"Um... Happy birthday. I really hope this year will be a wonderful one for you."

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I hope I can depend on your guidance and support again this year."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Chocolate? Oh, It's Valentine's Day, isn't it? Does that mean these are for me...?"

nah i just wanted you to look at them. YES THEY ARE FOR YOU BBY. why would you be showing him chocolate if it wasn't for him! On any day, not just valentine's day!!

White Day: (March 14th)

"These are for you, {PC}. I put in a special order for monaka from my favorite confectioner in Ginza. They're wafers filled with bean jam—I hope you like them."

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Earlier, Haku told me he was switching houses. It gave me a real shock— I'm very relieved that it wasn't true..."

i bet subaru made the most scared kicked puppy face and started apologizing for being such an awful captain and blamed himself for that haku would go to a different house and haku had to quickly explain it was just a prank for fear that subaru might burst into tears.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Happy Halloween. I know it's nothing special, but I've prepared some treats for the occasion. Oh... But you're more than welcome to play a trick instead."

please don't trick him. april fool's day was hard enough for him.

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Merry Christmas. We already have our New Year decorations up in Hotarubi, so it has a real east-meets-west atmosphere now. I hope everyone is okay with it..."

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Everyone seems busy at the moment. Maybe I should use this opportunity to tidy the garden..."

(13 affinity and above)

"{PC}? Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just worried because you were so quiet..."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"You're back... I'm so relieved. I was worried I'd done something to make you feel uncomfortable..."

this man shakes like a chihuahua 24/7. like you can taste the anxiety coming off of him. i love him. he's so pathetic(affectionate). i wanna squeeze his hand reassuringly and tell him everything's gonna be okay. i wanna hug him and pat his head. i wanna take him places so he learns more about the world outside of working. i wanna watch him do schoolwork excitedly because he's never really gone to school before and it's a new and exciting experience. i want him to experience the most mundane aspects of life with wonder.

good boy. yeah. get him anxiety meds /nodnod

#subaru kagami #tokyo debunker #danie yells at tokyo debunker #danie yells answers #danie yells with anons #tokyo debunker spoilers #datamining cw #OKAY TIME FOR BED WHEW

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afitterbrittany · 13 days ago

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Leg day routine as I’ve lost 90 pounds and continue to work on toning and getting closer to my goal weight

I posted my arm day routine a couple of weeks ago so I figured it's time to post my leg day routine just in time to do it tomorrow morning. I also incorporate some core exercises into the second circuit.

Just like every morning at the gym, I start out with 10 minutes on the treadmill. For leg day I do incline 8.0 at 3.8 mph.

My first circuit of exercises is using machines. I like using machines because even though I've been doing this for a while, they ensure that I maintain the proper form. I do each exercise three times in a circuit alternating between 1,2, and 3 for each set of exercises.

Exercise 1 is the leg extension machine. I do 15 reps for the first two at increasing weights of 70 then 85, and on the 3rd set I do it at 85 until failure.

Exercise 2 is the hip adductor (pushing the machine extensions towards each other). I do 15 reps at 200, 15 at 215, and then until failure at 215.

Exercise 3 is the hip abductor (pushing the machine extensions away from each other). I do 15 reps at 190, 15 at 200 and then until failure at 205. I love that the machines have 5lb increments so I can always push myself even if it's just 5lbs more.

My second set of exercises is done over by the giant wall of mirrors. I get 2x 20lb dumbbells, a 25lb plate, the 15lb kettlebell, and an exercise mat for this circuit. I do 3 sets of each exercise, again going through them like a circuit.

Exercise 4: I start off with 12x RDLs with the 20lb dumbbells. I don't like using the smith machine for this so I opt for using free weights. A key component of the RDL form is treating your hips like a hinge and as you go down, visualize closing a door behind you with your hips/butt. I stop when the weights are just below the middle of my shins. Be careful not to bend your knees too much otherwise it takes the engagement off your glutes. I do the same amount of reps and weights for all 3 sets right now.

Exercise 5: 30 second plank, 45 second plank, 1 minute plank (or until failure if I'm feeling it)

Exercise 6: I'm not sure what to call this exactly but it's like a kneeling leg lift. I am on all fours and I do each leg 15x, extending one leg straight behind me then pulsing it as high as it goes to the ceiling, tapping the floor, and then back up.

Exercise 7: Single leg kick into fire hydrant. 15x each leg. I am still on all fours, one leg kicks backwards and as I bring it back in, instead of doing a second kick immediately, I open my bent leg sideways into a fire hydrant move. Make sure to squeeze your glutes at the top when you reach the end of your mobility.

Exercise 8: Rainbow leg lift. One leg at a time, 15x each leg. Tap as far right as you can on the ground with your toes and then touch as far left as you can, making a sweeping or rainbow motion with your leg as you go. Repeat 15x then swap legs.

Exercise 9: Russian twists. I do 20x with the 15lb kettlebell, tapping it on the ground on each side of me.

Exercise 10: 20x glute bridge with the 25lb plate on my stomach. (Picking up the plate to put on me makes me realize what a feat it is to not be carrying that weight around with me all the time, it's insane to think about)

Exercise 11: 15x sumo squats with the 15lb kettle bell

After 3x of this second circuit, I do some stretching and I'll get on the treadmill to cool down if time allows. These 2 circuits usually take me about an hour-ish to complete.

I will try to film my second circuit tomorrow and make some gifs of the exercises since I may not have done the best job describing them.

#leg day routine #leg day exercises #exercises for legs and glutes #glute growing exercises #weight loss #cico method #calorie deficit diet #high protein diet #fitness #walking for weight loss #wellness #wellness routine #gym routine #exercise routine #core exercises #toning exercises #sculpting exercises

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lousypotatoes · 1 year ago

Text

The Sun's In My Heart

Warning! This post contains murder, mentions of sex, and lots of cussing. If any of these make you uncomfy, please read with caution.

Song Recommendation:

you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

"Hey Vaggie?"

"What do you want?" Vaggie said.

"Do you and Charlie have a second?" she asked. "Me and Alastor made something that we think could help get more guests for the hotel."

"What exactly did you and Alastor make?" Vaggie asked, eyeing Y/N suspiciously.

"Find Charlie and find out," she giggled, walking away. "We'll be downstairs."

"They'll be here in a minute," she said as she walked down the stairs.

"Ah wonderful!" Alastor said. "Thank you for telling them, dear."

"It's nothing to thank me over," she waved off, walking over to stand next to Alastor. "But you're welcome."

"Alright," Angel Dust said from the couch. "What's the deal with you two? You fuckin' or what?"

Alastor didn't say anything, but Y/N saw that his eye started to twitch, his smile becoming more forced.

"It's nothing like that Angel," she awkwardly laughed. "We were just really close when we were alive,"

"You're not doin' a good job of convincin' me, toots."

"Oh my Satan, how many times do I have to explain it to you?"

"This will be the last time, dear," Alastor said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Unless our friend wants to hear his screams broadcasted to all of Hell."

Before Angel Dust could reply, Charlie came downstairs, dragging Vaggie by her hand.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so excited to see what you guys made!" she gushed, sitting on the couch. "Thank you guys so much for taking the time to make whatever it is,"

"You don't have to thank us, Charlie," Y/N said. "Besides, it was Alastor's idea to make the whole thing."

"Yes, but you also had part in making it," Alastor said.

"Can we just watch whatever it is now?" Vaggie asked, annoyed.

"Oh, right," Y/N said sheepishly, turning on the TV.

"So, what'd ya think?" Alastor said, turning off the TV after the commercial ended.

For a moment, Charlie and Vaggie didn't say anything, they just had looks of confusion and shock on both their faces.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?" Vaggie said angrily.

"Hey, we worked hard on puttin' that together!" Y/N said, putting her hands on her hips.

"It's good," Charlie said, a fake smile on her face. "Alastor, Y/N-I mean," Charlie couldn't find the words to say.

"Do you not like it?" Y/N asked.

"No! No!" Charlie exclaimed, waving her arms around. "It's amazing! Thank you both so much for making it, but um..maybe the tone is a bit off?"

Neither Alastor or Y/N said anything. Vaggie continued to glare at both of them angrily.

"We want people to want to come here," Charlie continued. "This makes it look...umm-"

"Bad," Vaggie interrupted. "The word you're looking for is bad."

"We made it like that 'cause we thought it was funny," Y/N said, glaring at Vaggie.

"Hilarious is a better term for it, my dear," Alastor said, tilting his head.

"It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point!"

"The commercial explained all of that," Y/N said.

"It didn't explain any of it!" Vaggie said angrily, crossing her arms.

"Vaggie is right," Charlie said. "The commercial was to let Sinners know we are trying to help them."

"Well, my dear," Alastor said, running his fingers across his cane. "I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show. The proper medium to express oneself! But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement, so we had a little fun with it." he finished, smirking.

"Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it?" Vaggie said, standing up. "Well, this is not what we want representing us."

"You said you wanted help," Y/N said, a small frown on her face. "This is us tryin' to help."

"Well then try harder," Vaggie said. "When you two showed up, both of you said you would help run the hotel, instead you're mocking us! Nobody's going to want to come to a place where two powerful Overlords think is a big waste of time!" she finished, sitting back down, scowling.

"Just be grateful we're actually trying to help," Y/N said as calmly as she could, taking a seat next to Angel. "You know what people think of this place. They all think it's the most stupidest idea ever. At least you have people like me and Al wantin' to help."

Before Vaggie could respond, Angel raised his gloved hand from the couch.

Vaggie turned her attention to him, "What?"

"If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?" he said, all four of his hands pointing to himself.

"Angel, you're a porn star."

"A famous porn star," he corrected her, putting his legs on Y/N's lap. "I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' down these walls to get in."

"We are not filming a porn as a commercial." Vaggie said. Charlie just looked concerned.

"Why not?" Angel asked. "Sex sells, don't it? I swear, you film a threesome with mister fancy talk creepy voice and miss dommy mommy vibes and me, you'd be rollin' in participates willin' to stay at this tacky hotel."

Blushing, Y/N immediately pushed his legs off her.

"Gross, Angel,"

"Haha! Never going to happen!"

"Angel," Charlie began, smiling awkwardly. "I appreciate you wanting to use your special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but- I don't want to exploit you in that way!"

"Oh, please, baby," Angel waved off. "This body was made to be exploited. I got the arms, I got stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity-"

Y/N walked over to Alastor as Angel continued to talk about his body.

"Told you she wouldn't like the commercial," she muttered as Charlie's phone began to ring.

"All that matters is that it's entertaining, dear." he said. "Everybody likes a good laugh, don't you think?"

"Hey, I have a question," Angel said, interrupting Y/N and Alastor. "Why can't you just make people stay here babycakes? Since you're so powerful and all."

"I can," Y/N said, her eyes glowing red for a split second. "I just don't feel like doin' it."

Vaggie scoffed.

"What about you freaky face?" Angel asked

"Oh, trust me, I can!" Alastor said ominously, his antlers beginning to grow.

"Why do you think I'm here?" Husk called from the bar.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fuck's bitch and moan all the time if he wasn't forcin' me?" he said as he cleaned a bottle.

"I like being forced," Nifty said, popping up from behind the bar.

"Keep that to yourself, Niff,"

"What, you don't love being here with me, Whiskers?" Angel teased.

"Call me Whiskers again and I'll jam that bottle down your throat!" Husk threatened.

"Kinky. Come one keep talkin' dirty."

"Angel, let Husk do his job," Vaggie sighed. "And no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to."

"I'm choosing to be here, and I think it's all stupid." he said. "We're in Hell, toots. That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?"

"Well maybe it doesn't have to be."

"Nobody's made it out Vaggie," Y/N pointed out. "How do we know getting redeemed is even possible?"

"We just have to try," Vaggie said. "It doesn't mean it's not possible."

"Hey," Angel said, putting his hand on Vaggie's shoulder. "Whatever means I can keep crashin' here rent free. Crack is expensive."

"I've been meanin' to ask, Al," Y/N said quietly. "Are you here to get redeemed?"

"Heavens no!" Alastor chuckled. "I'm simply here for entertainment!"

"Explain more, please," Y/N said.

"I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly!" he exclaimed. "Isn't that why you came here?"

"A little bit yes, but-"

Before Y/N could finish, she heard Vaggie and Charlie.

"But-But the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after-"

Charlie cut off Vaggie "This is the perfect opportunity, Vaggie," she smiled. "I could get Heaven on board with my plan."

"Charlie hold on-"

Charlie ignored Vaggie. "There's no way I can mess this up!" she said, pacing all around the room. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

"It's just a meeting," Vaggie groaned.

"When I speak to them, I'm going to change their minds and touch their hearts, or whatever angels have, actually."

"This could be bad," Vaggie said.

"Vaggie, it's gonna be alright!" Charlie said, taking Vaggie's hands and spinning around. "Something tells me that today will be a happy day in Hell!"

And with that, Charlie bolted out the door.

Everyone but Husk and Vaggie crowded around the door.

"She's halfway down the street," Y/N called out, giggling.

"Is she-?" Vaggie started

"Oh, she's dancin'," Angel finished, taking a drink of his booze.

"Ugh, no!" Vaggie groaned.

Y/N was currently sitting in her room, going through paperwork of all the demons she killed. Something about seeing the number of lives she took away really boosted up her ego.

Going through the paperwork, she remembered the conversation she had with that woman on the phone before Alastor came in and brought up the idea for the commercial.

Remembering it, her eyes glowed a dangerous red. She was going to hunt down this woman, and she was going to do it now.

She opened her bedroom door and strode out, giving out a dangerous energy that even Angel and Vaggie knew not to mess with.

"I'll be back soon, Vaggie," she said, knowing that Vaggie wanted to ask. "I have some business to take care of, I shouldn't be gone long."

"What kind of business, hm?" Alastor suddenly asked, startling her. "You seem to be in a rush."

"It's something that I want done and I want it done right now." She said. Alastor saw the dangerous glint and his grin grew wider. "You're welcome to join me. Or not, I don't care."

Wanting to see Y/N in action, Alastor nodded eagerly. "Alright then,"

Y/N smirked. "I suggest you find another to keep up with me,then," she said in a way that caused Alastor to get goosebumps. "'Cause I'm not walkin' to my destination."

With that she walked out the door and unfurled her wings. Alastor was amazed on how big her wings actually were. He wanted to touch them.

"Y'know, it's quite rude to stare."

Alastor blushed, not knowing that Y/N saw him staring.

"My apologies, Y/N," he said, his eye twitching in embarrassment. "I'll meet you at our destination,"

"How do you know where I'm goin?"

"I have my ways."

Y/N grinned. She liked this side of Alastor, and she liked it a lot. She wanted to see this side of Alastor more often.

"Good luck keepin' up,"

As soon as she finished her sentence, she shot up into the air, flying gracefully. Alastor had never seen anything like this before, she was so beautiful and graceful, just like she was when she was alive. But something about seeing shoot up in the sky like that made something stir in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time. He smiled genuinely, then melted into the shadows, following Y/N as best as he could.

As Y/N flew over Pentagram city, she tried to smell out and hear that bitch as best as she could. She had never done this before but decided that she wasn't going back to the hotel until that woman's head was off her body.

Flying past The Vee's Tower, she finally found her target. She didn't know how, but she just knew that it was her. The woman was walking out of the tower, a coffee in her hand and texting on her phone.

Swooping down, Y/N grabbed the woman and flung her into the wall of a nearby alleyway. As soon as Y/N landed on the ground, Alastor materialized out of the shadows, his grin wider than ever.

The woman's eyes were closed "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU A-?" she screamed, but as soon as she saw Y/N and Alastor in front of her she stopped talking.

"Is this the business you had to take care of?" Alastor asked, leaning on his cane.

"Unfortunately, yes," she said, not taking her eyes off the woman.

"I'm assuming this is has to deal with the services you offer?"

"No, she just really fuckin' annoyed me," Y/N said. Her eyes glowing red, she walked over the woman. "No wonder you're so stupid. You work for the Vee's don't you?"

"If you kill me," the woman said meekly. "They'll come after you."

Y/N laughed. "They won't do anything," she grabbed the woman up by her throat. Alastor was watching intently. "You think I'm scared of the Vees? Sweetie, it's the other around."

One of the woman's arms ripped off. The woman screamed in pain.

"This is what happens when you piss me off, do you understand?"

The woman nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"I don't think you do," Y/N said

She summoned an angelic knife and pushed it straight through the womans throat. The woman gurgled but died quickly.

Alastor stared at Y/N with wide eyes. He had never seen anything more attractive.

"Did you enjoy watchin'" Y/N asked cockily.

"Immensely, my dear," Alastor breathed out. "I wish I would of saw you like that when we were alive.

Y/N giggled "So do I. Now we should head back to the Hotel," she said, dusting off her pants. "I'd hate to attract an audience."

Back at the Hotel, everyone was sitting on the couch, Vaggie pacing in front of them.

"Okay, so Charlie is dealing with something very important, so while she's gone, we are making a new commercial." Vaggie said. "One that represents her vision and what we're doing here. Alastor, we need a camera."

Alastor snapped his fingers and a camera from back when Y/N was alive popped up in Vaggie's hand.

"A video camera," Vaggie said.

Alastor hummed in dissaproval, but snapped again. The old camera disappeared and a modern video camera popped up in Vaggie's hand.

"All right! Let's do this!" Vaggie said, pumping her fist into the air.

"And....action!"

Y/N watched as Vaggie recorded a scene of Husk and Angel at the bar.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel," Husk said, the script in front of his face. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I've been a bad boy," Angel said suggestively, climbing onto the bar. "And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place...on the path to redemption!"

Seeing Husk's face made Y/N feel bad for the cat but also giggle.

Husk rolled his eyes and groaned. "Well, you come-"

"Oh yes!" Angel interrupted.

"-to the right place."

"Cut!" Vaggie cried out. "Okay Angel, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Husk, could you maybe not have the script in front of your face?"

"I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit!" Husk said, throwing the paper on the bar.

"We could improve this shit, babycakes," Angel purred. "Rawrr~"

Husk pushed Angel off the bar. "Whoops,"

Vaggie sighed. "Husk, come on!"

Y/N went back upstairs, killing that woman made her tired and she wanted to take a tiny nap.

"Not going to watch them down there?"

Y/N jumped and saw Alastor standing in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, Alastor, what is it with and scarin' me all the damn time?"

Alastor chuckled. "I can't help it, my dear. "You're too easy to scare."

Y/N scoffed and continued to walk to her room. Alastor followed her.

"I'm way too tired to argue with you right now,"

"Maybe you should get some rest then, dear,"

"I was on my way too when you scared me,"

"Am I annoying you?" Alastor asked, still following her.

"A little bit, yes," Y/N mumbled, as they reached her room. "I know Vaggie wants me to film a part, so could you maybe wake me up?"

"If you need me too, then of course,"

"Thank you Al," she smiled genuinely. "And thanks for comin' with me earlier. Usually, I like doin' stuff like that by myself, but you added somethin' nice to it."

"If anything, I should be thanking you," he said. "You put on quite the show for me today. I applaud you. I'll leave you to rest now."

Alastor melted into the shadows, leaving Y/N flustered and grinning cheesily. He was just like how he was on Earth, despite the psychopath tendencies, she liked that part of him too. She went into her bedroom and flopped onto her bed, sighing happily, her dead heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Y/N woke up from her nap to a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The door opened and Alastor stepped in the room. He smiled genuinely when he saw Y/N in her sleepy form.

"Vaggie wants you downstairs," Alastor said quietly, an amused smile coming to his face.

"I'll be down there in a minute," Y/N said groggily. "Thanks for wakin me up, Al,"

"You don't have to thank me," Alastor waved off before heading out the door. "I'm glad you slept well, my dear."

After he left, Y/N got out of bed and straightened out her outfit and her hair before heading downstairs. When she got down there, she saw that the whole downstairs area looked like a set from a movie. There were lights and cameras everywhere, and everyone besides Alastor was dressed in outfits from the time you and Alastor were alive.

Y/N was impressed.

"Alright everyone!" Vaggie said as soon as she saw Y/N. "Let's make a fucking commercial.

After all of them were done filming for the commercial, they sat around or on the couch, waiting for Charlie to come back, and for the commercial to air.

Y/N heard Charlie come in through the front door. Vaggie heard it to, getting up to greet her.

"Charlie!" Vaggie said, hugging her. "How did it go? Did they listen?"

"Oh, uh...They sure did..hear it! But um-" Charlie said.

"Oh! Come here!" Vaggie exclaimed, pulling Charlie towards the couch. "We have something exciting to show you!"

"Alastor and Y/N pulled some strings and it's about to air," Vaggie said as her and Charlie.

"We pulled a few limbs too," Y/N giggled.

"Wait? The commercial?" Charlie said, confused. "You all made a new one?"

"Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do say so myself," Angel said, grinning.

"That's...amazing," Charlie said, her eyes sparkling.

"Shh! It's starting!" Angel shushed.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hot-" Vaggie said on the TV before the signal got interrupted.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Y/N said in anger. Everyone reacted the same way she did.

A news broadcast came on.

"Breaking news in Hell today!" Katie Killjoy said on the TV. "We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before."

Hearing those words, Y/N's eyes widened in shock and fear.

"Do you know what that means Tom?"

"No, what does that mean, Katie?" Tom Trench asked.

"It means we're all royally fucked!" she answered, her neck snapping.

The camera cut to the Extermination Day timer, the numbers going down from 358 to 176.

"Wait...what? Why!?" Angel exclaimed.

Everyone in the room besides Nifty had looks of shock and confusion on their faces. Even Alastor didn't have his usual grin on his face.

"We are so fucked," Y/N muttered

sorry it took me so long to upload, i've been really busy lol

angel dust and husker are my spirit animals

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant @leviwife1 @mo-0-o @cutiebimbo

#character x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor altruist #alastor x reader #alastor altruist x reader #angel dust #husker #nifty #vaggie #charlie morningstar #adam #lute #katie killjoy #tom trench

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thebindingofpillo · 8 months ago

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It’s been a while since I did a proper character introduction so this will be a little all over the place but MAGGY queen of my heart, best girl 2kforever is here!!!! Read all about her under the cut.

As with everyone else in the cast, Magdalene is a Normal Person trying to move through life the best way she can. While she’s aware or the existence of the supernatural, her strategy is to chug along and having a normal life in spite of all this. So who cares if the Angel of Destruction is chilling in her living room? That’s her boyfriend and he’s gonna help her with dinner, don’t be rude.

Her and Isaac are adopted siblings - you can find out about Isaac here - and they both have an artistic drive BUT while Isaac’s passion lies in figurative arts, Maggy is more of a writing type. Personality wise, I envisioned her as a really sweet, passionate girl, but also with an extremely short fuse. Quick to anger! But also very quick to calm down if people don’t respond to her anger - Judas is a master of this trick, while Isaac can get as emotional as her and their fight usually devolve into screaming matches.

This doesn’t mean she’s constantly looking for a fight, in fact she knows how to keep her cool if the situation calls for it. Her emotions only get the best of her if she’s with people she trusts and if the situation is dire enough (like discovering your beloved boyfriend killed the son of God…). She’s also a huge nerd! And a bit feral. Could either ramble for hours about her interests or eat a bell pepper like it's an apple. That's why her boys love her so much. Her and Judas met when they were in middle school and have been inseparable ever since. They bonded over their mutual interest in history and literature, so much so that they ended up pursuing a higher education in their respective fields. But while Judas had no problems getting a masters, Maggy spent years struggling to complete a base three-year degree* and ended up dropping out entirely. In the years she wasn’t studying, she focused on writing and publishing her first book, but that didn’t go so well either. She eventually ended up applying for a job at a kindergarten not too far from her home - where she met Lilith - all the while still trying her hand at writing. She’s currently working on a second book, with the help of Isaac (illustrations) and Judas (research).

*I am using my own experience with Italian university, I don’t know how American colleges work lol sorry. Anyway in Italy university is divided as such

Laurea triennale (three-year degree) - 3 years. This is the basic degree.

Laurea magistrale (masters degree) - 2 years. You can only access this after completing the three-year basic degree.

Dottorato (doctorate) - 3 years. Can only be accessed after completing the 2 year masters degree.

If you wanted to get a doctorate you’d need to go through 8 years of school. Judas has completed 5 years of studying (therefore has a masters degree) and is now taking a sabbatical before working on his doctorate. Magdalene dropped out after a couple of years and never completed the basic three-year degree. Hope this is clear enough!

Anyway, dropping out of school didn’t make Magdalene any less educated. She loves learning! And both her and Judas have amassed a huge library filled with every single book that captured their attention. She’s also very curious and has a knack for teaching herself new things, like calligraphy, cooking, and even lerning new languages. Everything that catches her attention - from mushroom growing, to crystals, to ancient religions - is free game!

Despite all this, dropping out of school and seeing her first book flop did put a damper on her overall mood. While her loved ones reassure her that her worth isn’t defined by her successes or lack of thereof, deep down she feels like a failure. Sure, she has a job, but idling away the rest of her life at a 9 to 5 isn’t really a thing she sees herself doing. At the same time, she’s afraid of putting too much hope into this new book, because another failure might push her to give up writing altogether and make her truly miserable.

As for her religious belief, she’s a born again Christian. She had a slight crisis of faith after highschool - nothing too serious, she just didn’t see the point in going to mass every week and was frustrated that this thing that was supposed to bring her joy felt more like a chore than anything. With her being a rebellious teenager at the time, she did a complete 180 and converted to satanism for a while. Her parents didn’t really support her decision, but they didn’t stop her either, as teenagers are teenagers and they just wanted their girl to be happy (and not hurt anyone or herself in the process).

During this phase of her life she dabbled a little in witchcraft, and her knowledge of tarots and crystals comes from here. She didn’t do much more than that though, as she was still a bit skeptical of the whole magic ordeal.

Eventually she met Azazel, who was nothing short of horrified to see her proudly announcing she was a satanist, since he had direct experience with the guy and could attest he was an asshole. Seeing a real demon from hell scared her half to death but since he was very sweet and knowledgeable, he managed to help her find her faith again and answer all the questions she might have had in the meantime. This does not mean that Magdalene is now the stereotypical Good Christian Girl Trademark. While her faith in God is stronger than ever, she still takes all the rules imposed by the human Church with a grain of salt. She’s not a zealot, but still goes to mass and tries to love her neighbour the best way she can (even when it’s difficult!).

More stuff (rapid fire)

She likes to joke she’s the world’s worst Catholic as she still reads tarots from time to time and stili has her pendulum and crystal collection

While she still has an interest in divination and magic, it’s from a purely cultural perspective now.

Her new book is about… the adventures of Perseus. I am getting meta with my story lol

I had the idea she was able to mend clothes and sew, but I don’t think it fits her too much anymore, so now whenever she needs something done she gives it to Isaac.

#tboi #binding of isaac #the binding of isaac #tboi reincarnation #reincarnation au (working title)#tboi au #tboi fanart #pillart #lore post #character sheet #tboi magdalene

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animalsalvationassociation · 4 months ago

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Calling all Octo-Agents!

Yes! You! Please read till the end, and if you don't have the patience/energy for it rn, come back later! It'll be worth it I promise!

So the holidays are now pretty much over, (except for New Years ofc, but I digress.) meaning I've been looking for new ways to improve my Au. You see, it's come to my attention that I'm not as organized or as thorough as I thought I was.

I've created a lot of lore/characters for this Au, but not very many people really know what's going on anymore. Even I get lost, and it's been a little frustrating ngl. So, seeing as this blog is officially over a year old, I think it's time to "fix" my mistakes and take a new approach.

Ya'll might've noticed that I've been slowing down on content. I haven't been spending as much time on my art, meaning the quality (well I wouldn't say it's gotten worse) hasn't been as strong as some others I've created in the past.

(Don't get me wrong, I'm not making a resolution for the new year, that's dumb and we all know those never last.)

So here's what I'm promising instead since this clearly is the only thing I'm allowed to work on at the moment (not saying I don't have other projects, but if I want to actually publish this story at any point I'm going to have to spend as much time as I can on it, meaning I have to make some sacrifices - RIP my FNaf's & Undertale fanfics)

1. Full Character Redesigns

Taking all the core characters (The Octonauts / Octo-Agents / Y.N. & Fae / The A.S.A. / C.L.A.D.E. / etc.) and giving them a full reference sheet with details, headcanons, and an updated design.

Creating family/relationship tree for those characters (parents/siblings/love interests/etc.)

Family/Team “Photos”

Crossovers (I will still be doing multiple crossovers and soon they will get their very own redesigns!)

2. Updating the Master Post

3. Updating the “Pinned” Blog Post

For reference this will no longer be the current top post with all of the A.S.A. members, but a poster I will create for the fanfic to make the blog appear cleaner. (I won’t delete that post I’m just going to unpin it since the designs are old and not as useful as they used to be)

4. Asks will open January 1st, but I will not start answering any asks before February 1st!

That is so I can properly prepare and reevaluate the blog’s content so there is more information available to anyone who wants to ask questions for the Octonauts/Octo-Agents.

5. A.S.A.’s Rating & Genre (Fanfic)

This story will now be classified as Cryptozoological Fiction, with partial Horror / Science Fiction & will be drawing straight from Folklore & Mythology. (For “Sci-Fi” don’t think space/aliens, think Cryptids in a scientifically evolved world.)

The rating is now PG-14

(Poll Results)

6. Fanfiction

This is really for the fanfiction itself. I’m still trying to figure out how to go about this. As of this current moment I have 1, maybe 2 chapters written out, and soon I hope to have more. However I am my own editor/beta reader, so it might not be as polished as I’d like to be, but I’m just going to have to accept that.

Unless I can find a bunch of people who can do that stuff for me, for fun, that’s the state this story will be in. You’ll have to have patient with me, I’m using all the tools I have at my disposal (Grammarly, Google Docs, LibreOffice, etc.) but I am a human with heavy ADHD and reading/comprehension disabilities, so please be kind.

7. Weekly Posts

I will still be posting weekly, just not on Tuesdays. I realize it’s only been stressing me out to post on that day every week and so I’ve been abusing my attempts at a proper sleep schedule because of it. I still work a very busy retail job and will have to get a secondary job sometime soon, so unfortunately you’ll just have to add me to your notifications if you want to know when I’ve posted.

8. The Future . . .

This one is for anyone who’s gotten this far. I want you to know that the Octonauts still mean so much to me. Even if we aren’t getting updates anymore, the community is still somewhat alive even if it's only a few of us. Maybe one day we’ll get our kickstart, but for now I will continue making content until I’m satisfied with the story and it’s ending. If I stray every now and then, that’s just because I have the attention span of a goldfish with a million hobbies and fandoms that constantly need attention. I love you guys and I promise to do my very best to make my mark on the internet, even if it’s for a silly kids show about talking/walking/nerdy animals who save fish every day.

9. January's Posting Plan

Week 1: Finishing the Octonaut's Headcanons

Week 2: My Christmas gift to the Community

Week 3: Silly Y/N & Fae Content (No it doesn't make sense, deal with it)

Week 4: Screencap Redraw

Week 5: Starting Redesigns

If you made it this far . . . here's a cookie and the secret formula.

🍪🍾

#octonauts #octonauts story #octonauts the asa

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garden-of-gay · 5 months ago

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Can You Feel It? It's Burlesque! Part 1

The first part of the Steddie Burlesque AU is here and rather than ramble on too much here, I'm just going to get right into it; enjoy. :)

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8

Also here on Ao3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Al Munson was a lot of things and had always been. A criminal, a business owner, a dick--- for sure—but a proper father was not one of those. Which is how Eddie had landed in the custody of his uncle Wayne. Thanks to Al’s criminal record the only option for him to make money was to either do more illegal shit or build a business himself, which is also how Eddie found himself working at his father’s shitty dive bar. In big bold letters, it read “Al’s Bar.”

“How original” Eddie had thought,

But hey, a job is a job even if it means working for your deadbeat dad. Eddie was getting tired of his dad’s bullshit antics and was ready to leave, something he often voiced to his uncle Wayne, to the point where the man was completely unphased when Eddie once again brought it up.

“Wayne I’m leaving” Eddie said

“What do you mean” his uncle replied.

He had been through this same song and dance so many times yet, every time he humored Eddie by asking about his plans.

“Soon as I get my check, I’m gone” Eddie huffed.

At that, Al Munson emerged from the back of the house getting ready as always leaving Eddie and Wayne to clean up the place even though he was perfectly capable of helping.

“I’ll be back,” Al said.

Eddie explained as Al put on his coat. “Dad, I need my check before you leave.”

“Paydays at the end of the month, you know this” Al exclaimed annoyed and with a roll of his eyes.

“You still haven’t paid us for last month, I need my money. Wayne’s been taking care of me come on you quite literally own us” Eddie replied angrily.

Al retorted, “You got a problem with management, put a note in the suggestion box.”

“Dad I’m serious, I’m quitting” he steeled.

“I’ll be back for the dinner shift,” Al said with a final roll of his eyes and an annoyed huff.

“Son of a bitch” Eddie exclaimed.

He continued, “He may be back but I sure as hell won’t be.”

Eddie opened the register and began counting out a chunk of cash from the register, Wayne looked on in confusion.

“Eds, what are you doing?” He asked.

Eddie finished counting the amount in his hand before turning to his uncle and answering him.

“Taking what he owes me and not a cent more.”

Wayne’s eyes widened.

“Son, you know he’ll come after you for that, your father has never been a patient man. Especially when it comes to money.”

“Yeah well, he will need to find me first” Eddie smirked.

He then proceeded to take a portion of the money that he had taken from the register and tucked it into Waynes’s pocket. Before explaining to his puzzled-looking uncle.

“This ought to cover the new radiator for the trailer” he smiled.

“Now go, you’re late for your shift at the plant” Eddie teased.

His uncle had the habit of losing track of time always so focused on making sure everyone else was squared away before himself, it was something that Eddie loved about him but also wished he would let go.

“You’re really going?” Wayne asked with a look of awe.

“I’m really going” Eddie replied before shoving at his uncle.

“Now go get out our here seriously you’re going to be late, I got it here” He chuckled.

Wayne began making his way to the door with Eddie on his heels to close the door, but he stopped at turned to face him.

“The radiator can until later, Eds. Keep what he owes you and I’ll deal with him” he stated seriously.

“Later Son, I love you” he paused for a moment before turning back around one final time.

“Hey Eds just remember, no matter what you always have a place with me.”

With that, he was gone leaving Eddie in his dad’s bullshit ass bar all alone. He locked the door, flipping the open sign to close before beginning to put up the chairs.

Eddie had always loved singing and playing guitar since he was little, it was one of the things his mom used to praise him about, his musical talent. Now when he needed to feel close to her, he would put on a song she used to sing to him and would sing along and it was almost like she was there with him. Today was one of those days so he grabbed one of the quarters from his pocket and slotted it into the jukebox in the bar. He then selected Something’s Got a Hold on Me by Etta James, he remembers his mama belting out the lyrics to the song while she danced with him in the kitchen. He dragged a chair to the center of the small stage before beginning as the opening chords of the song rang out.

Oh-oh, sometimes I get a good feeling, yeah (Yeah)

I get a feeling that I never, never, never, never had before, no, no (Yeah)

I just wanna tell you right now that I (Ooh)

I believe I really do believe that

Something's got a hold on me, yeah (Oh, it must be love)

Oh, something's got a hold on me right now, child (Oh, it must be love)

As he sang and danced around the stage, he imagined what his life could be like once he got out of here. All he had to do was pick up and leave and that’s exactly what he planned on doing, his dad and his shit bar be damned.

When he got home that night, he had one thing on his mind…he was getting the fuck out of here.

“Uncle Wayne, where do we keep the suitcases” Eddie yelled.

His uncle came toddling over into his room and replied.

“In the closet o’er there, and son, there is no need to yell we live in a trailer that is only so big.”

Eddie replied apologetically “Sorry Uncle Wayne.”

His uncle ruffled his hair and stated.

“It’s okay kid I know you are just excited, here let me go get those for you and help you pack.”

Eddie smiled.

“Thanks, Uncle Wayne”

When Wayne returned with the suitcases, Eddie began shoving clothes into them without care, what is the point of folding stuff when they’re just going to get tossed around and shoved into a place only, he will see?

“Dammit, why do I have so much shit. When did I get this much shit?” Eddie asked frustratingly.

“I don’t know kid, it’s your stuff” Wayne replied with a shrug.

“You know what old man; you are no help” Eddie retorted flatly.

“You asked for my help; I’m just helpin,” Wayne said putting his hands up in mock defense.

“Yeah, well I’m starting to regret it as all you’re contributing is lip” Eddie bantered.

He and Wayne began to bicker back and forth, the task at hand forgotten making the whole ordeal take way longer than it should have.

With all his belongings eventually thrown together into three suitcases---one of which he didn’t even know existed---Eddie loaded them along with his precious guitar, his baby, into Wayne’s back seat and waited for his uncle to come sauntering out of the trailer to take him to the station. He could have walked but Wayne insisted on taking him to say goodbye before he set out on his new adventure.

“Wayne, hurry up!” Eddie yelled after honking the horn.

“I’m Comin,’ I’m Comin,’ I forgot how impatient you can be, I was just grabbing one last thing before we go” Wayne replied.

With this, he wordlessly handed Eddie what looked like a frame wrapped in a scarf to prevent it from breaking. He slowly unwrapped the scarf from the frame and was confronted with a photo he had never seen before, one of his mama and him.

“Wayne I…” he began as he teared up.

Wayne placed one of his hands on Eddie’s knee and looked at him with a softness in his eyes that made Eddie want to cry more.

“It was her favorite picture of you two, she made me promise to keep it safe and give it to you when you were older. Now it seems like you need it, son, she’s always with ya’ so might as well carry her too” Wayne said tearing up himself.

“Thank you, Wayne, this means the world to me I…. just thank you,” Eddie replied through tears.

Wayne proceeded to shift the truck into drive and pulled out onto the road. Eddie watched as the trailer grew smaller and smaller behind them, the life he knew was over now and it was time to start over.

“How much to LA?” Eddie asked.

The man looked up at Eddie with disinterest, clearly bored of his job.

“One way or round trip” He asked.

“You’re kidding right?” Eddie joked.

The worker was not amused and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “kids and their bullshit attitude these” to Eddie but he had no way of being certain so he couldn’t call the guy on it.

With his ticket secured for the next Greyhound, Eddie went to say his final goodbye to his uncle.

“It��s not goodbye forever, just for now” Eddie muttered holding back tears.

“I know Eds, I love you kid. You’re going to do great things, I know it” Wayne replied holding back tears of his own.

The two men embraced, and Eddie let himself fall apart in his uncle’s arms, he was excited to follow his dreams, but he was also scared shitless. He was leaving behind all he had ever known and the only thing holding together right now was his uncle’s arms around him.

“It’s m’kay son, let it out, I gotcha” Wayne muttered into his nephew’s shirt as he felt his own shirt begin to wet with tears.

“I gotcha, I gotcha,” he said as he stroked Eddie’s hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Eddie looked up at his uncle through red-rimmed, puffy eyes and knew that it was going to be okay. He had Wayne after all and at the end of the day, it’s all he needed.

Eddie sat with his uncle and waited for his bus to arrive, soaking in a couple more minutes with him before it was time to go. Eddie had told him he could leave 30 minutes ago but Wayne insisted he wouldn’t leave until he watched Eddie get safely on his bus. He suspected that his uncle needed this as much as he did, so he wasn’t going to argue. As the bus pulled into the station he got up and turned towards his uncle and smiled.

“I got to get going now, I’ll call you when I’m there, I love you, Old Man.”

“I love you too, Son. Now go before you chicken out and never leave” Wayne joked.

Eddie laughed before making his way towards his bus, climbing aboard, and finding a seat by the window. He watched as others piled in and said goodbye to family and friends, but most importantly he watched and waved at Wayne as the bus pulled out of the station onto the streets. Eddie’s fate was sealed, there was no going back now, and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The bus ride was incredibly boring not only was it like 80 years long, but there was nothing to look at on the way. Who knew the rest of America was just as boring as Indiana was; from Missouri to Oklahoma everything looked the same and the only cue Eddie got that they were getting closer to LA was the switch from flat plains to orangey-beige desert that also stretched for miles. The bus ride took 2 days but if you asked Eddie, he would say it was more like 20 days with how much nothing there was. Finally, however---after an eternity and a half---the driver announced that they would be pulling into the LA station within the hour and Eddie would be free on the confines of his seat that became uncomfortable all the way back in Oklahoma.

Eddie sat in the LA station breathing in the hot dry air and looking through the brochures for a hotel to stay at, he landed on the Hotel Rosslyn and hailed a cab to take him and all his shit there. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next year, but he knew he needed work. It was still early enough that he could go out searching so he snagged a newspaper from the stand next to him figuring he could check out the help wanted section.

The drive to the hotel was uneventful just like the bus ride and the hotel itself was nice but also quite unassuming, which was perfect. He checked in at the front desk, happy to find a place, and was handed a key to a room on the 3rd floor.

“I guess this is my place for the next while” Eddie muttered to himself as he used the key to open his room.

The room was clean but also a bit shabby and water-stained but he didn’t mind considering he lived in a trailer for most of his life. He inspected the bathroom and closet space before heading over to the phone to call Wayne and let him know he made it. The phone rang twice before Wayne’s gruff voice could be heard through the line.

“Munson residence, this is Wayne how can I help you?”

“I forgot how boring you are when you answer the phone” Eddie huffed in fond amusement.

“Eds!! I missed you, Son, you settle in, okay?” Wayne asked.

Eddie hadn’t realized how much he had missed his uncle until his voice rang over the phone and all the stress of the last couple of days washed away replaced with the gruff sound of his uncle’s voice and a feeling of home.

“Yeah, I just got here and figured I give you a call to let you know that I’m alright,” Eddie said with a slight wobble in his voice that Wayne didn’t seem to notice or was kind enough not to mention.

“Well, it’s good to hear from you and I’m glad you are doing fine, that’s good to hear” Wayne replied.

Eddie talked about everything and nothing about his trip so far, just glad to hear his uncle’s voice. He then asked the question he had been dreading but needed to know.

“How did Dad take it? Me leaving?” he said nervously.

Wayne sighed.

“Now, I won’t lie to you kid, he all kinds of pissed off. He threatened a lot of things, but I haven’t said anything about where you are or that I know.”

“Thank you, Wayne. I’m sorry you must deal with the fallout though” Eddie muttered.

“Boy, I would do it ten times over if I knew you got to get out and be happy,” Wayne said.

“I’m going to go unpack now, I love you Wayne” Eddie's voice came out wet and wobbly.

“Love you Eds, take care now,” Wayne said and then the room went silent with a click.

Once off the phone, Eddie took his time semi-unpacking his things but most importantly, he took the money he had with him and put it in a plastic bag before sealing it and putting it in the water tank of the toilet making sure that there was a portion that would go over the side for later access.

With his money secured he took another look at the photo Wayne had given him and he smiled at it.

His mom looked so young and beautiful; it made him want to cry. He remembers so little about her since she died when he was seven. Looking at the date on the photo told him it was about 3 months before her death and Eddie wonders if she somehow knew and insisted on a photo because of it.

Eddie had bought a postcard in the lobby or the hotel and considered sending it to Wayne before remembering that if his dad got his hands on it, it was a one-way ticket to an ass beating and losing all his money, so he opted against it. Instead, he ripped it to pieces and threw them out the window for them to be scattered by the wind, keeping his secret.

Eddie had spent some time going through the help wanted section circling any possible jobs in music and had slowly worked his way through his list. He began to feel more and more frustrated with every job he was turned away from and was considering going back to the hotel for the night when he spotted it--- across from fancy high-rise apartments he could never afford--- in neon lights, a sign that read “Burlesque Lounge”. There was a woman on one of the steps landings adjusting the thigh-high socks of her costume and he was increasingly intrigued by what could be happening within those 4 walls. Before he could ponder it anymore, the woman was rushed inside by a very frazzled-looking young woman with choppy brown hair, a boxy frame, and suspenders. Now he had to go!! He had a mystery to solve, what was this place with no windows?

Upon entering the club Eddie found himself more puzzled by the moment, there were dancers on the stage---that much he could see--- and they were wearing revealing outfits, but it didn’t look like a strip club. He reached the end of the staircase down and was met with a balding man with big glasses, a beard, and a frankly menacing grin.

“What is this place, a strip club?” Eddie asked the man.

“Boy, I should wash your mouth out with Jägermeister, the only pole you’ll find in there is Heather, the shots girl.”

Eddie was taken aback by the passive aggression of the man, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the dancers behind the man as they had begun their performance, he was startled from his trance when the man spoke again.

“Baby cakes, I got a club to fill here so 20 dollars or not?” the man said with a tight smile.

Eddie reluctantly handed over a 20-dollar bill and then made his way towards the bar to watch the dancers from there.

Once he sat down, he watched mesmerized as the dancers moved out of the way and revealed an elegant-looking older woman who then opened her mouth and began to sing.

Show a little more

Show a little less

Add a little smoke

Welcome to Burlesque

Everything you dream of

But never can possess

Nothing's what it seems

Welcome to Burlesque

She continued her performance as the dancers moved around her. She revealed the band and made a crude joke about knowing where she was if you had a bit of extra cash, a joke that Eddie chuckled at but was quickly pulled from his laughter when he noticed the bartender across from him.

Brown chestnut swooping hair, moles that dotted his chiseled face, and a handsome smile drew Eddie to him like a moth to a flame but what really got Eddie and made him feel like he was going to cream his pants was the eyeliner that lined the man’s hazel eyes, making them pop. In summary, he was hot, and Eddie wanted to do unspeakable dirty things to this Adonis. The man must have noticed Eddie staring and assumed he wanted a drink because he quickly approached where he was sitting.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He asked.

“If you’re buying” Eddie joked, what he didn’t expect however was the man to actually put a drink in front of him.

“Welcome to LA,” he said.

“Cute” Eddie huffed.

“Where are you from?” the hot man asked.

“Indiana” Eddie replied surprised his brain was still online, but it definitely shut down when the man grinned wide and replied.

“Same, what part?”

Eddie’s mouth felt dry, so he sipped at his drink and responded.

“Indianapolis”

Eddie felt so dumb, this man had reduced him to one-word answers to every question he asked. The bartender then pointed at himself before proceeding with his statement.

“Hawkins, a small town about half an hour south of Indy, my best friend and I used to drive up there sometimes.”

Eddie gave a polite nod to acknowledge that he was listening to what he was saying, but frankly, he was off in la la land being busy ogling this man.

“We’re practically related, huh?” the man joked.

“I thought you looked familiar” Eddie jabbed back.

“Hey, who does a boy have to flirt with to get from here, to there? Eddie asked.

The man raised an eyebrow at him before softening his face and replying.

“Is this you flirty?”

Eddie decided it was best to ignore the joke especially as he felt his face flush, he just hoped the low lights of the club hid it.

“That’s rich coming from someone wearing more eyeliner than me” Eddie jabbed because of course he had to open his big mouth about this man’s sexy eyeliner.

He was pulled from his thoughts of what may happen to that eyeliner during *ahem, activities when the man pointed to a door.

“Through that door, ask for Joyce, she’s your guy, flirt away.”

Eddie turned in the chair to get up when the bartender cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Hey, Indianapolis! Use my name.”

He then handed Eddie a card which he read before replying with a wink.

“Thanks, Steve”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AH, first part down second one is to come soon! I'm really excited for this fic. We have had a few characters introduced with more to come.

If you saw typos or mistakes here, no you didn't.

Edit: I fixed my poor grammar skills, I promise I know English.

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #burlesque au #burlesque #wayne munson #gardenwrites

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smellslikechahnspirit · 3 months ago

Text

[Book]

Are we good for each other?

1. Strawberry Milk

Bang Chan x F. Reader

Synopsis: Written according to y/n trophy. A story about how you two met. Both having a difficult life, finding peace in each other. Not without lots of drama. Just read it, it's great.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, soft, some smut, drama

Warnings: Under eating, depression, toxic ex (Let me know if I missed something)

Word count: 1241

______________________________

[5:28 PM]

Another day, the same job, the same annoying people, everything the same. Lately life wasn’t that great for you. After all these months nothing has changed yet. When you dropped out of college to live with you boyfriend, now ex, you imagined your life way different. Living with him at his place, joining a real career. This waiter job was supposed to be temporary. But then after you two broke up, and had no place to stay, you kind of had no other choice but to keep the job. You needed the money. You were broke. So broke, you even sometimes skipped proper meals. You did eat, but was it good food? Healthy food? No, most of the time just cheap stuff, like a burger at a fast-food restaurant, or something of that sort. You were trying to save money, but that wasn’t an easy task and especially not because your job also paid pretty poorly. But hey, what else could you do? Give up? No, you were determent to show your ex, and the rest of the world that you’re strong enough to overcome this hardship.

‘’Fuck, it’s only 5:30…”, you said softly. Your shift lasted till 8 pm. ‘’Language!”, your boss said looking angry at you, who happened to walk by right as you said that. You needed this job, but you and your boss haven’t been on the same page lately. You keep ‘messing up’ stuff, and it’s always an excuse for her to call you out on it, even if it’s as small as forgetting sugar in a coffee. You were trying your best. It was just never enough for her. ‘’Sorry...”, you replied.

You couldn’t wait to be done today, so you could hop back online on your PC. You were a streamer on the side, not a paid one, just for fun. You never showed your face or anything, you were just hella good at playing games, and people seemed to enjoy watching you play. You were quite famous on there actually. Gamers all over the world have heard at least something about you, since you broke a world record of goals per minute in a soccer game. You played any type of game really. But your favourite at the moment had to be this shooter game you had been playing a lot.

You actually met a guy on there a few weeks back. You didn’t know his name; all you knew was his gamer tag and his voice. You two had been playing this game together almost every day. Unless he was busy. During the day he mostly was, due to his job. You didn’t wanna be a creep and ask him too much about his personal life though, so you always waited till he replied and told you he was gonna go online. Only sometimes you had to cancel, since your PC was lagging most of the time if you played with him. Your PC was kinda cheap, but you couldn’t afford to buy a better one, for obvious reasons.

‘’Table 8 needs your attention right now, go!”, your boss whisper-yelled at you. You fake smiled at her and walked over to the table. ‘’Hello sir, what can I get you?”, you asked the guy who was wearing all black and had his hoodie hood covering most of his face typing excessively on his laptop. ‘’Uh, yeah just….uhm, just an iced strawberry milk, please.”, the man said, not even looking at you once. Even though you couldn’t see his face fully you knew who he was. He was pretty famous. You just didn’t care and treated him normally. He seemed very annoyed and stressed for some reason. Probably work, you thought. ‘’Anything else?”, you asked. “No, thanks, just one strawberry milk to-go. Please hurry I’m gonna be late for my appointment.”, he said while putting his hand over his forehead, like he had a headache. “Yes, sir.”, you said as you went to go get his drink.

You hated customers like him. Looking like they’re more important than the rest of us. He was handsome though. Very nice lips too. Maybe he really was stressed and you wanted to help him out by getting his order as fast as possible, so that maybe he’d feel a bit more at ease. He was still a customer after all.

You went to the counter and prepared his order. While you were busy mixing the syrup into the milk, another customer went over to you and complained about the fact that his coffee was served cold. Your boss started yelling at you and made quite a scene already, but since you were busy with the strawberry milk order, you didn’t want to engage much so you just apologised and continued.

You were done and started walking over to the customer to serve him his iced strawberry milk order, while your boss followed. That stressed you out and made you lose focus and tripped over the handsome guys’ bag, spilling the milk all over his clothes, almost his laptop. He jumped up and started yelling at you too. For obvious reasons your boss also started yelling and well basically everyone was looking at you and yelling.

You realised you really messed up too much now and the following statement from your boss wasn’t that big of a surprise. “You’re fired, Y/n!’’, she yelled and pointed to the door, for you to leave immediately. You teared up. You were not only a disappointment for everyone here but also for yourself. You hated yourself even more than you already did. You threw your apron off and started walking towards the door.

While on your way out you looked at the handsome guy once more and mouthed the words ‘I’m so sorry’. He was obviously still annoyed, but a part of him felt bad for you too. He was looking at your face and saw the tears clearly now. He felt bad. Then he also realised he was 100% gonna be late for his work now due to that fact that he’d have to go home and change his clothes, on top of the fact he was already late. So, when that thought hit him, he looked back at the mess and yelled at your boss for napkins. You closed your eyes for a second to escape the situation for a second, then walked through the door and went home.

[5:54 PM]

When you got home you threw yourself on your, what was left of a decent, couch. For the first time in a while you felt completely hopeless. Normally you’d find a bit of willpower left in you and always got back up from hardships, since you knew you had to stay strong, to fight. But now, after today...everything was too much. You couldn’t even keep a simple small job. Were you really that useless?

Something in you knew you’re a wonderful person and that you had much potential, but how would you ever be able to get out of this shithole, if you couldn’t even make a little bit of money. You had no money, no friends, no nothing. Not even family, since they all shut you out after you left your country back then. You decided to open a can of pineapple you still had, ate it and eventually you fell asleep. A part of you didn’t care if you’d wake up or not.

Part 2

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

#stray kids #skz #bangchan #skz fake texts #incorrect quotes #skz x reader #scenario #bangchan x reader #faketexts #incorrect kpop quotes

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sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy · 4 months ago

Text

Stiles is Supernatural Crack

4. Low Blood Sugar Grumpy Ass

Stiles didn’t know when but Scott had apparently let it slip to the pack that failing to learn to control the magic would drive Stiles crazy. Since that got out, Stiles had only been alone when he was in the bathroom and Malia had even tried to be a part of that.

Her defense was “what? I’ve seen you naked plenty of times before.”

Stiles stopped and turned around to face her. “Yes, before. As in before we broke up,” he affirmed and went to the bathroom, locking it to make sure they would at least make noise if they tried to walk in. If he were more petty, he could have mountain ashed the door.

It wasn’t all bad. Actually, sometimes it was really nice. He had his friends around more than ever.

Slowing, they stopped showing up everyday but it’s not like he expected them to stay with him every free second. Deaton had explained the ‘pull’ to him would decrease as they got used to the feeling, but it was still weird after having them there so much. They’d have pack nights once or twice a week. Lydia was helping him learn spells. He had a battery of snacks at hand anytime he looked even slightly paler than usual, which was a regular thing since he hadn’t spent much time outside lately. He could usually be found in his room, the kitchen or at Deaton’s.

Lydia was a rule follower when it came to learning magic or doing spells. She reinforced the lines Deaton set and tried to get Stiles to follow the book's order of spells. Spoiler alert: did not work. Like, ever. Stiles was always trying to push the limits of what he could do and Lydia was always having to feed his low blood sugar grumpy ass.

Stiles was on his bed reading from a book of healing spells. He heard someone coming up the stairs and looked up to see Lydia walking in with tea for the both of them. “Hey Lydia, what do you think of this?”

Lydia gave him the cup and took the spell book. She hummed, blowing on her tea to cool it before taking a drink. Lydia fidgeted with the edge of the page as she read. When she’d finished reading, she closed the book.

“I think we should get the idiots protection spells so we don’t need to bother with healing,” Lyida told him, putting the book on the desk across the room.

“Hey,” Stiles objected, “I was reading that.”

Lydia gave him a cold look and Stiles settled. “No healing spells, Stiles.”

Between Lydia and Deaton, Stiles had littered his house in protective spells to the point that they had removed the mountain ash. Of course, that meant that, more than once, Stiles had woken up with more people in his room than had been there when he fell asleep, but rarely the other way around. It was getting to the point that it was hard to tell which clothes belonged to who.

Most people were in and out because of jobs, school, and other wolfly-duties. Everyone except for Derek. He was a constant. He had no job and didn’t need one.

Lydia had so many college credits when they finished high school that, only four years later, she'd already earned a BS of Physics with a Business minor, a Ph.D. of Mathematics, and was currently working as… something she had to sign an NDA for. Scott had finished Veterinary school(barely, due to supernatural happenings) and was working with Deaton.

Stiles had actually been able to get a job that played to his very particular set of skills: researching the supernatural. Usually it was small things— helping families or individuals find new packs, finding out information about pack ties to land, the occasional Spark that needed a mentor to become a proper Emissary. He would sometimes get urgent requests about a rogue witch or kanima– those were his favorite cases but he was starting to appreciate emissary cases more now that he was learning himself. He found himself scrolling through pictures of teenage Sparks and their Mentor Emissary. It was strange, now. Most of the Emissaries were around Stiles’ age or a few years older. It made him feel like he was behind even though he’d just learned about his abilities.

Stiles sighed, chewing his lip. The small noise caught Derek’s attention. He was starting to gain an aptitude for guessing Stiles’ thought from noises, even without chemosignals.

“You are doing all you can. You can’t change the things in life that left you where you are,” Derek said, starting the mantra Stiles would repeat when he felt like he was falling behind. “You—”

“— are ahead of some and behind others. It doesn’t speak to my worth, just my experiences,” Stiles repeated with him. It had originally been something he'd told the freaked-out teen sparks he placed but he'd started applying it to himself too. He leaned back in the rolling chair and rubbed his face. “I need a nap,” Stiles muttered.

Stiles got up and walked over to the bed and Derek flicked the light switch off, still sat reading via werewolf vision. He tried to, at least. He kept finding his eyes wandering to Stiles.

Today was one of the times where the pack was busy. Scott, Lydia, Kira, Jackson, and Isaac had work. Ethan was out of town visiting family that Stiles had helped him get into contact with, but he would be back soon. Liam was cramming for a test with Mason. Malia was god knows where, hopefully not getting arrested.

That left Stiles in a cold bed, pretending he didn’t miss the warmth of his friends, and Derek, keeping his distance because he didn’t want to make Stiles uncomfortable. Stiles pretending didn’t do him any good, he reeked of loneliness.

Stiles shivered and Derek put his book aside. Derek stripped off his clothes, shifted into his full wolf form, and jumped in the bed.

Stiles lifted the blankets for him with a smile and covered them both. Stiles pulled the wolf close and ran his fingers through his fur. He sighed, moving as close as he could to take in the warmth.

Derek was happy he could be there for Stiles but he didn’t think Stiles wanted him, so he always shifted into a wolf so Stiles could pretend he was just a dog if he wanted to. He thought Stiles deserved to be happy, he just didn’t think he made Stiles happy. He wanted to be there, to help, but he feared it was just the Nemeton magic. Derek constantly wondered if he could trust his own feelings because of it. The Nemeton had made him feel safe, was this the same? No. he knew it wasn’t but the fear of admitting it… It was safer to say it was the Nemeton magic, nothing else.

“How are you so soft,” Stiles asked, the end of his sentence rising in a yawn. “I thought wolves had coarse hair. Maybe it’s a werewolf thing…”

Stiles yawned again, closing his eyes. He was trying to fall asleep as thoughts raced through his head. His wide range of thoughts made the room heavy with different chemosignals. It made Derek wonder what was going on in Stiles’ brain but, then again, did he really want to know?

He thought up as many suicide missions are he did successful plans, not to mention the number of times he’d been right about who the evil of the week had been. How much did he think about who it was? Who many suspects did he start with? What about when Stiles himself was the bad guy? It had to have destroyed him. How do you ever come back from that? Derek laid next to Stiles, thinking about what he had said to Deaton the night he got his power. Why wouldn’t Stiles tell them he was hurting so badly?

Three hours later Lydia showed up at the house and flopped down in the bed next to Stiles. An hour after her, Liam made himself cozy in the bed, so brain dead from studying someone should have called his time of death hours ago. Mason joined in reluctantly, knowing he’d be squished later. Then Scott, Kira, and Isaac made their way in, somehow managing to squeeze into the bed. Once again, Derek ended up on Stiles’ chest. It wasn’t long before Jackson showed, wiggling his way into the pile of bodies after a shitty day. Finally, Malia made an appearance and was sent to the shower before being allowed anywhere near the bed.

Stiles had been drifting in and out of sleep as his friends– his family– piled in the bed. It was ridiculous, the eight of them piled on a full size mattress. It seemed to be all elbows and knees as people moved but it was always the best sleep Stiles got. Even with so many of them, it was obvious they were one person short, like missing a limb. Lydia was in Ethan’s spot and Liam was in Lydia’s, which meant Mason was shoved into Liam’s place. Jackson was still, somehow, in his place. Malia was in Mason’s spot and Malia��s stop was empty! Because so many people weren’t in the usual spot, Kira kept getting elbowed by Malia so Scott switched her places. As much as Stiles loved Scott, he was not enjoying having Scott’s crotch shoved against his leg.

Ethan would get a kick out of knowing how much they needed him for group naps, Stiles would have to call him later.

“Hey guys,” Stiles huffed, having taken an elbow from Lydia to the side, “I hate to say it but this isn’t working.” Someone rolled over, hitting wolf-Derek, rolling him off Stiles to land heavily on Scott, who– in turn– tried to lay on his back and ended up half on top of Kira while also shoving her against the wall.

Scott groaned, pushing Derek back onto Stiles. “No joke,” he groaned.

“All right,” Kira said, pushing Scott off her, “the person on the bottom says ‘GET UP’!!!”

If they thought cramming people on the bed was a feat, getting them off was an encore. Multiple times, they were seconds away from toppling over and squishing each other on the floor. They managed to get everyone separated long enough to breathe, except Stiles who still had wolf- Derek firmly planted on his chest.

Stiles tried to move Derek. He managed to move the wolf about two inches before he gave up. “Jesus, Derek! You weigh more than I do,” Stiles grumbled.

Mason hummed and threw in, “full grown male wolves can weigh up to a hundred and eighty pounds.”

Liam groaned, sitting on the floor and rubbing his head. “Shut up! No more facts or my head will explode!”

“You do know who’s house you're at, right,” Lydia asked, from her place sitting at the edge of the bed. “Random facts are Stiles’ specialty.”

“I thought we were going to take a nap,” Liam said in an almost pitiful tone.

Isaac gave Liam a look, practicalling asking if he was being serious. He was perched on Stiles’ desk, his feet on the arm of the desk chair that Jackson had taken over. “You are so dramatic,” Isaac scoffed, pulling a cutie orange out of Stiles’ snack bucket.

“And you’re a bitch,” Liam quipped back. “What’s your point?”

“Point is I’m going to bend you like a pretzel,” Isaac said and Malia snorted a laugh.

“Oh my god, get a room,” Lydia groaned, earning disgusted looks brom Liam and Isaac.

There was a jumble of “what? gross!” and “him and me? Lydia!” followed by a lot of laughing throughout the room.

Stiles’ had no clue what was going on and just hoped there would be no more blood on his carpet. He was still trying to move wolf-Derek so he could sit up. Kira finally took pity on Stiles and helped him move Derek– growling the whole time– so he could sit up. Stiles shoved pillows behind himself to lean back on while still being mostly upright, there was no way he was going to be able to scoot up the bed with Derek’s growly ass still laying on him.

When he was finally able to, Stiles stretched and grabbed his phone. He tried to turn it on but his phone was completely dead. He looked around the room full of suspects. It was strange, they didn’t have a pack night or meeting so why were they all here? He decided it was unimportant.

“Dude, could you can it will the rottie-rumble bullshit,” Stiles scoffed, poking at Derek's exposed teeth. “Anyone know what time it is,” Stiles asked and Lydia unlocked her phone. She showed him the time and Stiles’ eyes went wide. “Shit! I was supposed to meet Deaton five minutes ago!”

This was apparently all it took for Derek to get up.

Stiles jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready. He was trying to pull socks on and started to topple. Isaac was closest and grabbed Stiles before he made a crash landing on the floor. In his haste, Stiles forgot his spell books– Lydia grabbed them– and his keys– Scott grabbed those– and his snack bag– which Derek grabbed. They all made it to the jeep at about the same time. Keys were given to Stiles, books went in the snack bag and Lydia got in the jeep with the bag.

Stiles heard the zipper of his snack bag open and Lydia sighed. “There is a single pack of fruit snacks in here,” Lydia said.

“Oh ya, I was meaning to refill it,” he muttered, preparing himself for a long next few hours.

“Stiles, this isn’t good! You could pass out or worse,” Lydia scolded.

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I just won’t push myself as much.”

Lydia scoffed and rolled her eyes. Lies. He never did anything less than one hundred percent. Knowing that, Lydia felt unprepared. She’d never deal with Stiles when he completely crashed. Scott and Derek were the ones who did that. When Stiles had started overworking himself, Lydia always had a snack bowl nearby that she could pull snacks from to throw at him. Lydia was fully confident she could force feed him until he came too, she just didn’t know if she’d be able to carry his dumbass back to the jeep were he to pass out.

They parked and jumped out of the jeep, a total of ten minutes late. She followed Stiles into the vet’s office and listened as Deaton gave him a backhanded lecture about being on time. It wasn’t going to have an effect, Stiles was never on time and not for a lack of trying. It was a time-blindness thing.

Deaton had Stiles working on defensive spells. In other words, he was throwing balls of paper at Stiles while he tried to make a magic shield to block them. They stopped when he managed to successfully block all of them and Stiles ate the last pack of gummies. When they started working again, Deaton offered some of the paper balls to Lydia under the guise that he might need to block two attackers at once.

Stiles got hit in the face with a lot of paper.

“Okay, stop it. I need a break,” Stiles said, managing to catch one of the paper balls and throw it back at Lydia.

“I’ll stop when you stop five in a row,” Lydia said, throwing two at once.

Stiles blocked one but the other hit him in the eye. “Fuck! Okay, stop.” he said more forcefully, one hand left up to block while the other covered his eye.

Paper balls were still being thrown, this time being aimed lower to hit him in the chest.

Stiles groaned in irritation. He stood up quickly. “FUCKING STOP!”

The lights blew, launching sparks, and the paper balls all went up in flames with his words. Lydia yelped, dropping the flaming paper and looking up at Stiles. She had been shocked when the paper caught fire but looking at Stiles sent fear through her.

Stiles– sweet, harmless Stiles– had pure white eyes. Heavy dark circle grew under his eyes in seconds. His pale skin was damp with sweat and he was visibly shaking. A sick smile was set on his lips. It seemed to quirk up into a smirk when Lydia looked at him fearfully. It was like facing the Nogitsune all over but worse. This actually was Stiles. Lydia felt herself scream and, as quickly as it started, it was gone.

Stiles looked at Lydia, lost. Then he started to fall. Lydia watched it all happen in slow motion. Stiles getting closer to the floor. The door burst open. The wolves staring. Derek shoving past them. Derek grabbing Stiles' arm. Stiles screaming in pain. Derek landing on the floor. The crunching of glass. Derek pulling Stiles into his lap.

Derek’s frantic voice brought Lydia back to reality, “what happened?”

Lydia shook her head, not sure of anything any more.

“It seems Mr Stilinski has a higher aptitude for magic than I previously realized,” Deaton said, rolling a chair over for Lydia, giving her time to breathe.

“What does that mean,” Scott asked from the door.

“Strong emotions strengthen magic. When those emotions rise at the same time as a serge of magical energy, the magic will act on emotion and not thought.” Deaton walked over to his desk and grabbed a juice box and an apple. “He was attempting to create a magical shield and lost control. He was angry and his magic acted on his feelings instead of thoughts.” He gave the juice to Derek, “see if you can get him to drink this.”

Stiles started to wake up and absently drank whatever was given to him.

He wasn’t aware of anything until after they were in the jeep and halfway to the home. He wasn’t even aware enough to realize he was in Derek’s lap as Lydia drove the jeep. Roscoe, as much as Stiles loved the jeep, did nothing to help Stiles’ nausea.

It was a regular occurrence that someone had to drive Stiles home after these little work sessions. Most of the time he was dead tired. On days where he forgot his snack bag or it was empty, he was shaky, dizzy, and had a pounding headache. When he had zero food after he’d done magic, he’d sweat through his shirt and still feel ice cold, his anxiety would skyrocket and get really bad brain fog.

Stiles had had days where he overdid it but this was the first time he passed out. He’d overdone it and was feeling the effects hardcore. He was shaky and dizzy and nauseous– he felt like throwing up everytime they turned or hit a bump. His head felt like it would explode from the migraine he had.

“I wanna die,” Stiles muttered, feeling like he’d been hit by ten tractor trailers all at once.

Lydia scoffed, trying to push down her own worry. “Then maybe you should have refilled the snack bag,” she tisked.

Stiles flinched when Derek growled behind him and damn did that hurt. Stiles’ breathing spiked from the pain of moving too quickly. Derek was still growling and Stiles found it… something– a thought he’d criticized himself for and overthink when he didn’t feel like throwing up all over everything.

“His magic lows have the same symptoms as Hypoglycemia,” Lydia told Derek, not taking her eyes off the road. “He’s lucky Deaton had juice for him or we’d be heading to the hospital again.”

“Just drive,” Derek grumbled, keeping his attention on Stiles.

He brushed the hair off Stiles's forehead, feeling how sweaty he was. He hated that he couldn't do anything to help. He hated that Stiles was suffering, even if it was caused by his own stupidity.

Derek carried him upstairs and laid Stiles in bed. He tucked him in and sat on the edge of the bed. Stiles was falling asleep. Every sign was there– the random comments, slowing heart rate, his nose scrunching as he started to dream– and Derek noticed each one.

No, it wasn’t just the Nemeton’s influence. He was falling for Stiles.

He pushed Stiles' hair out of his face and frowned. He used to think Stiles was just a skinny defenseless human but he was so much more. He was smart and funny and sarcastic and far from being defenseless. He was a spark, a future emissary, and very, very powerful.

Derek’s hand slipped away from Stiles and he stood up. He could hear the others. Scott, Isaac, Liam, and Lydia came up to Stiles' room.

Lydia laid down next to Stiles without hesitation. She was scared, had been since it happened, and having the bit of normalcy they’d created was comforting. Isaac and Liam bickered back and forth until Scott gave them a pointed glare, flashing his red eyes. They calmed down and played rock paper scissors to see who laid where. Liam won and took the opposite side of Stiles from Lydia. Isaac laid down with a huff but relaxed quickly in the warmth of his friends.

“Are you going to join us,” Scott asked. “There’s enough room so you don’t have to fully shift.” Derek didn’t answer and Scott frowned. “What’s up, man?”

“I’m going for a run,” Derek said, heading for the window. He watched the mountain ash line break for him and went out, not stopped to look again. He knew the line reformed behind him. Normally he'd look back just to see how amazing it was but he knew if he looked back, his heart would rip for leaving Stiles when he was ill.

He repeated to himself: Stiles doesn’t want you. You’re just a fill in. He doesn’t need you.

After writing this, I realized I basically had Stiles cast fireball in a small room full of his allies. ANYWAY…

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #lydia martin #scott mcall #alan deaton #teen wolf fanfiction #sterek fanfiction #spark stiles #magic stiles #wolf derek #full shift derek #liam dunbar #isaac lahey #fanfiction

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deceptive-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Three - Two Old Fashioneds

W/C: 5.2K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Your first shift at The Bourbon goes less than smoothly and more chaotic. Does the town's hard-ass really have his shit together like he leads everyone to believe?

A/N: guys I'm so excited for this to pick up even more (i want to make them kiss like barbies but all in good time)

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The ins and outs of a bar were something you could have never anticipated and while similar in certain ways to a diner, there was a distinct line that separated the two. A diner had grumpy old men complaining about not getting their coffee soon enough. The bar had grumpy old men slurring their words, groaning about their lives and insisting that a ‘cute lil thing like you’ would fix everything. You had to stop yourself from gagging, plaster a smile on your face, and carry on. Because one complaint and you could be out of a job, only proving that you couldn’t handle the ‘rowdy’ customers as disclosed by the boss, who now that you thought about, hadn’t seen in the last forty minutes.

Not one other server was on staff to at least show you the ropes, it seemed like you were the first one. One of the bartenders, Jett, who had been the one you’d seen working the day before, was unfortunately selected to both train you and run the bar for the most part tonight, no time for a proper introduction before you were thrown into the deep end, only a quick exchange of names. It was a Thursday night but apparently to people in Knife’s Edge that meant the weekend started early. Poor Jett was nineteen years old and the whole bar depended on you two ever since 8:00 PM when you clocked in for your very first shift. It was nauseating having to ask him stupid questions in between attempting to serve tables while he made drink after drink, desperately trying to keep up with each order and delivering them to the right customer, even going as far to step out from behind the bar to tend to some of your tables. You assume he was probably used to it, what with how he did it without hesitation and seemed to have his own little system in place.

It wasn’t your fault, he assured you. It’s just that you happened to pick up your first shift the very night that the kitchen ran out of beef which also happened to be the main ingredient of one of The Bourbon’s only menu items, the famous Shreddar Burger topped with an ungodly amount of cheese and jalapenos. Turns out the customers went wild for it. It didn’t seem appetizing but you weren’t going to argue with the crowd favorite. And now it was being requested left and right, the explanation that the kitchen was currently out but should be back to whipping up another round soon, not enough for their hungry bellies. The best you could offer was a basket of fries until the beef magically showed up, Jett insisting that someone was taking care of it and that the cook would be back to whipping them up as planned sooner than later. You were beginning to lose faith in his promises but proceeded one step at a time regardless.

Just one more task and then the beef will be here and I won’t have to hear another damn grievance over a heartburn-inducing burger.

Yet it seemed to never come to an end, table after table requesting the very same order each time; only for you or Jett to break the news that their precious burger would have to wait and that again, the best you could offer were some fries or chicken wings, neither measuring up to the pedestal they held this burger on.

By around 9:15 PM, out came Eddie from the kitchen, door swinging behind him as sweat dripped from his brow. He was out of breath, chest heaving while he gestured for you and Jett to come over to which you obeyed, zigzagging around tables in a hurry with a tray tucked under your arm, brows pinched together stressfully. A new party of eight had just arrived which prompted you to push three tables together to accompany them, their drink order hadn’t even been taken yet and Eddie seemed to pick the worst time to call an impromptu meeting, in the middle of a never ending rush. Burgerless.

“Beef’s here. Jett, I need you to help with the rest of the boxes so we can get burgers going.” He instructs, the boy immediately following orders and frantically heading through the swinging door at full speed, very aware that he still had the front of house to attend to. “And you, Bambi, change of plans. I need you in the kitchen.”

So much to unpack in just one sentence. The kitchen? Bambi?

“Well–I-I thought I was just a server–”

“I said change of plans, I need you in the kitchen.” Before you could ask further questions, he disappears into the kitchen and for a split second you turn to glance at the full bar awaiting service only to wince and follow him. No one was managing the front and that made your nerves twitch but you suppose the boss knows what he’s doing. At least you hope. Your first hour or so had been a shit show.

Pans clanked against the metal worktop as he shoved them out of the way, clearing the space and igniting the flat top all while not batting an eye at you or caring to further explain. You could just make out the formation of numbers on his lips, no sound coming out, but he was distinctly lip syncing the numbers one through three over and over. It was strange though you didn’t have much time to process it, instead opting to internally lose it over the sheer idea of filling in for another position. You didn’t sign up to be a cook and this was way out of your scope of skills. He deemed you as incapable of being a server and now he was putting the foundation of this place on your shoulders.

“Randy, our cook left.” He begins, oiling up the surface, his focus never faltering. “Don’t know why, don’t know where. All I know is I went to pick up beef and when I came back he was gone.”

Jett scrambles near the back door, hauling boxes of beef into the walkin freezer as your eyes dart between him and Eddie, a certain queasiness forming in your stomach. Eddie continues pulling supplies out and though it's within your rights to demand to return to your original position in the front, you can’t, the words won’t come out.

“So you’re gonna flip burgers, Jett and I will be in and out to help while also holding it down out there.”

“I don’t even know how to ‘flip burgers’!”

It comes out less hostile and more alarmed, your eyes feigning apprehension at the current inconsistency of the place. In any other circumstance you should leave, quit with your dignity intact however that is not an option and you are in no position to be calling any shots; you begged for this job, afterall.

“You don’t know how to flip burgers.” He deadpans.

“I-”

“You ever flipped a pancake?”

It’s not a genuine question, more of a mockery of your simpleminded excuse. His head drops to catch your line of sight that had been previously shooting around the colorless kitchen, saturated in grays and whites that would drive anyone mad.

“That’s not what I meant–” You proclaim, setting your tray on an unoccupied work top.

“Just–cook the meat. Make sure it’s not raw.”

As if that wasn’t the whole point of ‘cooking’ it. This guy must have thought you had mush for brains yet he was the one with a crumbling structure of a business just based on what you’ve experienced in one night. One hour, even. You were starting to miss the senior citizens from the previous evening that appeared to have had a great deal of patience in comparison to the younger crowd that seemed to have more audacity and a shorter attention span.

“But what about–”

“Stop asking questions! Just follow my lead.” He demands, rushing out to the back, the door propped open so he could assist Jett in retrieving the remaining boxes from his truck.

What lead? There was no lead. Only chaos.

You idled next to the grill, shuffling your feet against the grimy tiles beneath you and taking notice of the astonishingly disgusting drain on the floor, coated in some kind of copper-colored grease. At least if Eddie came back in to yell at you for not doing anything, you had the excuse of manning the grill, ensuring his precious bar didn’t burn to the ground though metaphorically, it already was. What else were you supposed to do?

–

You were sure the smell of beef, onions and cheese were going to be crusted into your hair for eternity when all was said and done. Eddie and Jett had been taking turns walking you through the steps of creating this so-called famous burger and after a few mutilated testers, you eventually got the hang of it and it became a game of rinse and repeat. Sometimes an order for a rare cooked burger would come in and you could only hope that you cooked it just enough that it wouldn’t bring on a nasty case of food poisoning to whoever had requested it.

Eddie stood behind you at the fryer, back to you while putting together another batch of fries to store under the heat lamps while you pieced together yet another burger, setting it along the space designated for finished meals along with its corresponding ticket underneath. Eddie dumped some fries onto the plate before swiping it up and delivering it to its table. When he quickly came back in to repeat the same motions, a question lingered in the back of your mind and it only made sense to ask it.

“Why am I on burger duty?” You question, mentally facepalming at the phrasing you chose.

“Come again?” He gives you another chance.

“I-I mean, if I’m brand new, why put me in charge of one of the most important things on the menu? Why don’t you cook and I keep serving?”

It seemed like a valid concern, only your first day and suddenly you’ve moved up to head of the kitchen? Okay, maybe not head of the kitchen but that’s how it felt when thing one and thing two were constantly rotating out and mainly only managing fries and other small bar foods that were simple enough to make in big batches. The grease from it all felt prominent on your skin, and you feared your sweat was going to become one with the vegetable oil.

“Every person out there knows me. And I know them. I know how to butter them up.” He explains, a rogue curl escaping his messy bun in the mayhem of it all as he dumps another large portion of potatoes into the fryer. “You…well, you know.”

It’s uncertain whether that was meant to be an insult or simply him losing his train of thought. Either way, you didn’t read much into it, only nodding hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll throw you back to the wolves in no time.” Eddie half jokes, exiting the kitchen once again, this time with plates balanced on his forearms and palms, Jett zooming past him to start up another round of wings.

“So, how are you enjoying hell?” He laughs, giving his hands a good scrub down.

“Oh, it’s amazing.” You exaggerate, piling some cheddar cheese high on top of the charred meat, topping it off with jalapenos and a bun, then plating it up with some fries.

“Well, I promise it’s not like this every shift. And contrary to what you may have seen tonight, Eddie’s a good boss. Just kinda cranky but you learn to ignore it.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” The man in question rushes by, heading for the walk-in freezer, yet again counting in threes, this time using his fingers as well.

–

As promised, you were sent back up to the front once things had slowed down, the bar emptying out aside from a few regulars that had straggled behind. It was a manageable workload between three people, plus Jett was able to offer a little more in depth training behind the bar as well as giving you the official tour of The Bourbon.

There was the main room where all the action was, dimly lit to create a nice ambience littered in knick knacks that decorated the walls, torn band posters covering the ceiling along with some Christmas lights. Of course there was a pool table though you hadn’t witnessed any intense games in your short time here. Jett took the liberty of educating you on the kitchen a little further should anything of tonight’s nature happen again. You learned where everything was kept for their small but cherished menu, where the storage closet containing all the cleaning supplies was as well as the back office which was only reserved for Eddie according to Jett. Lastly, he showed you the dumpsters, in case you happened to be on trash duty and he even gave you strict instructions on how to close them back up so animals wouldn’t rummage.

Now you were back behind the bar, being taught to make the signature drink, an old fashioned containing cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. You could appreciate it, a bit spicy and a touch smooth, accompanying that burnt wood taste that would get you there fast. It wasn’t a difficult drink to make however, perfecting the presentation was what set you back. You couldn’t simply toss a cherry and an orange twist into the liquor, it had to be done tastefully. Or that’s how Jett explained it, claiming that those were Eddie’s words. The drink was in a way, an art and you couldn’t be sloppy with it, not by The Bourbon’s standards.

A hectic night of becoming a makeshift cook, training as a server, and an intake of so much new information would do a number on anyone and the bags under your eyes clearly showed the physical exhaustion you were experiencing. You didn’t think you ever worked so hard even at the diner back at home during rush hour.

“Little lamb made it through the night.”

Tilting your head up from the cocktail before you momentarily, you’re met with that pair of intimidating but gorgeous eyes, nearly black in the low lighting of the bar. It was interesting, you’d seen many brown eyes in your lifetime but none of them resembled something quite like the universe he held in his, his outlook on things noticeably different from the average person. He had taken a seat at one of the stools on the opposite side of the bar from you, some paperwork laid out in front of him as he began scribbling something down. All you could offer him was the raise of your brow in acknowledgement of his presence, too engaged in perfecting the cherries on the toothpick just right, balancing them on the rim of the glass like a circus act.

“They’re too close together.” Eddie remarks, his gaze glued to the paper he had been marking up, an inventory list you notice at a second glance.

“Hmm?” You might as well have been in your own world, some kind of trance caused by fatigue pulling at your muscles and overworked mind.

“Cherries. They’re unbalanced.”

For a man of such few words, he still seemed to say a lot. The attitude ingrained in his tone never appeared to let up and it felt as if something was either always bugging him or losing his interest. Never content, always sour and sharp-tongued.

“Oh.” You sigh in defeat, as if it were impossible to simply pick up the toothpick resting against the glass and your finger and move the cherries, solving the case of the wobbling toothpick.

Jett emerged next to you after participating in some small talk with a regular at the end of the bar, a grin on his youthful face despite what a shit show the night had been. So far you observed that he was something of an optimist, smiling his way through tough situations. It was refreshing.

“There you go!” He praises, gesturing greatly to the drink you’d just created. Your third try at it.

“Jett, you’re bein’ a shitty example. Leaving your sheep unattended.” Eddie grumbles, sticking a toothpick in his mouth. You’d be lying if you said you wished he’d stop sticking toothpicks in his damn mouth. Well, half-lying. You’d admit he looked good chewing on a tiny piece of wood but he did it far too often.

Wait…sheep? Were you the sheep? Was this a jab at you? You’d just spent the night keeping this place afloat and he was insulting you once again?

“Munson, I’d say I’m doing just fine considering you left us without a fuckin’ cook the whole night.” Jett defends. You want to grimace, knowing this wasn’t the standard when talking to your boss but Eddie seemed unphased while the boy kept grinning at him as he leaned against the bar. “Plus, it seems like this sheep kicked ass on only her first day.” He nudges your shoulder with his, sliding the drink you’d just concocted in front of Eddie. You smiled in appreciation of his kind words.

“I didn’t leave you without a cook. Cook fuckin’ left without telling anyone.” He reasons, immediately throwing half the drink back in one swig.

Please don’t taste shitty, please don’t taste shitty, please don’t taste shitty.

“And I guess you proved not to be as dainty as I thought.” Eddie admits to you, throwing the rest of the drink back. No complaints yet. Only what you could make out to be a compliment.

“So can she stay?” Jett pleads, bottom lip jutted out for emphasis. He seemed to have taken a liking to you but then again, the place was short staffed so maybe he was just desperate to have anyone help out.

Eddie looks up from his list, pen tapping against the bar top with annoyance. There was still no indication whether the old fashioned had been any good or not, seemingly forgotten about amongst the conversation and it was quietly eating at you. The need for validation.

“That’s up to her, kid.”

Both pairs of eyes landed on you, anticipating your answer.

“Well, uh, I dunno.” You shrug. “Was I even any good at making a drink?” Like you had a choice in accepting the job, this is all you had.

“I dunno.” Eddie replies, sliding the glass back over to you. “Try again, let's see.”

“That’s a yes.” Jett chimes in. “Big boy wants a refill.”

“Jett, I will personally give you a swirly.” There’s a glimpse of humor in Eddie’s tone, the smallest you’ve seen within him so far though you refrained from giggling.

“Oh, a swirly? Real mature.” Jett mocks, Eddie quietly snorting a laugh in response.

His smile was cute.

And it may be the first time you’d seen a genuine one from him. He had dimples, deep, deep dimples. It was a wonder why he didn’t put them on display more.

In the midst of the banter, you began whipping up another old fashioned, The Bourbon way. You figured it wouldn’t be your place to insert yourself among the jokes, being the new girl. It was best to keep quiet until you blended in a bit more. Several customers throughout the night had already initiated conversation stating they’d never seen you before and you didn’t need to draw any more attention to yourself than you’d already received.

“Make it a double?” Eddie interrupts your process.

Again you look up to meet those large eyes, practically black holes absorbing any and all light aside from a tiny sparkle you found that survived within them. He was asking and not demanding. He owned the whole damn place and yet he was asking you to make it a double when he could very well just tell you.

“Yeah.” You whisper, unsure of yourself. A double just meant…well, double, right?

So you turn to Jett who was now scrubbing at an especially sticky spot on the bar. He didn’t take any notice in your silent plea much to your regret. You looked like an idiot, pondering over what exactly the measurements should be since today's training didn’t exactly cover what to do should someone ask for a double. At least you knew how to use the entirety of the kitchen though…

“Just another shot.” Eddie instructs, emotionless.

With a nod, you kick right into action, using what you learned and putting it to use while remembering to add an additional shot and not completely overlook it in your uneasiness. You didn’t care to peer up at him once more, uncertain if he was still watching your every move and unsure whether he would reprimand you for making one mistake in crafting his drink. He said nothing so it was safe to assume he had resumed filling out his boring paperwork.

“See, she’s a natural!” Jett applauds upon turning back toward you as you carefully pierce the cherries with a toothpick, balancing them just how Eddie had taught you.

It really wasn’t rocket science and you could feel the humiliation seep into your bones at the thought of him judging you for simply not being able to figure out why they kept falling in before. You were by no means a natural.

“You’re gonna be the new favorite, I can already tell. Everyone’s gonna love ya.” Though Jett’s words are appreciated and far too kind, you can’t help but doubt his confidence in you.

You were used to being a fly on the wall, observing and keeping to yourself among loud personalities. And you were okay with that. Being so removed grants you the ability to perceive everyone else without barely even being perceived yourself. It was flattering, the way Jett talked you up having only known you for a few hours but you knew you were nothing special. He was just being nice and most likely picked up on your anxious undertones.

Eddie remained mute, continuing to scribble away at the paper in front of him as if you and Jett weren’t there. Just as silent, you slid the drink over into his peripheral before occupying your hands with a rag to wipe up any remnants caused by your shaky hands. He only scanned the drink over once before tapping his pen against the counter, three times. Always in threes.

Awaiting his consensus on your bartending, you pretend to pay no mind, as though his opinion is the last thing on earth you would want. Really, it’s all you want. To know if you exceeded at crafting the bar’s signature drink or if you failed so miserably that he wouldn't let you behind the bar again. After all, your official job title would be ‘server’ and server’s didn’t generally make drinks, they served. But this wasn’t a normal bar and it seemed everyone was performing more than one job at a time so if you had to make drinks you might as well be somewhat good at it. And if not, it could render you useless in his perception, seeing as he’d already underestimated you before.

When he finally takes a sip, large hand wrapped around the glass, you refrain from sucking in a breath because although he had already had one, he gulped it down like water. This time it seemed he was performing a quality check.

“Good.” His monotone voice doesn’t convey much other than you’ve at least satisfied him to some extent. But that's it.

Next to you, Jett celebrates again before tending to another customer and then yelling out for the last call. Eddie’s focus doesn’t budge from his work while he sips away at his drink, this time nurturing it rather than greedily throwing it all back.

–

Some time around 12:30 AM Jett had dashed out after the bar received a phone call from his mom complaining that the racoons had stormed their barn and came too close to threatening their chicken coop again. With all patrons now gone and only cleaning and closing left to be done, Eddie dismissed him from work and told him to get a better handle on the raccoon situation seeing as it happened three times in the past month. Jett muttered something about how raccoons are relentless and how they will find a way if they really want to on his way out.

With one last wipe down of the tables and a thorough cleaning of the bar top, all that was left on your mental checklist given to you courtesy of Eddie was making sure behind the bar was organized and pristine for the following day, bottles accounted for, and glasses washed and dried. He was absent for a good thirty minutes but you concluded he was doing his share in the kitchen as you heard the clanging of metal on metal and a few curses every now and then when there was an extra loud crash.

The sudden crackle of a speaker and booming music startles you, a glass nearly slipping out of your grasp at the sound. A harsh metal song blares through the bar, guitar wailing and bass vibrating, causing a few bottles to gently clink against each other on the shelf. Seconds later, Eddie came sauntering out from the back office with a broom in hand and a cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, unlit.

You try to ignore whatever he may be up to but find it impossible not to look up from the glass you were polishing off. His hair was unruly, now out of the confines of a bun and seeming to have only gotten bigger throughout the night and–he wasn’t using the broom for sweeping. Instead, he crawled on top of a freshly cleaned table with his dirty, clunky boots and poked at something in the rafters, tugging it forward. You wanted to be mad that he was stepping on your freshly scrubbed table but you couldn’t help but be curious, pausing your motions to stare and try to predict his next move.

The end of the broom was looped under the handle of a small wooden box and his arm stretched out to open it before pulling some cash out of his pocket and sticking it in the box. Then he closed it back up and shoved it back into place, out of sight. Once he jumped down off the table, he began walking toward the back again, stopping in his tracks when he realized you were standing there watching him the whole time.

A puff of air escapes his lips, his bangs briefly blowing upward before resting back against his forehead. You tear your gaze away, now more interested in cleaning water droplets off of another glass. Your heart pounding, his footsteps only inch closer and closer and yet again, he is on the opposite side of the bar from you, staring you down. It was obvious he had forgotten you were there. The unlit cigarette is plucked from his lips in between his fingers and tucked behind his ear.

“You didn’t see that. If it goes missing, I’ll know it was you.” He speaks so gruffly and low, as if someone might hear despite the place being empty.

Nodding in submission, you can’t bring yourself to catch his fierce gaze.

“Yeah?” Eddie pushes for a verbal response, more intensity to his tone.

“Yes.” You chirp. Like a pathetic little bird.

Satisfied with your answer, he hums, resting the broom against a stool before making his way around the bar, pulling a rag out of his back pocket and assisting you with wiping down the remaining glasses. There had to have been at least a dozen left and by the looks of it, he had finished his tasks and wanted to get out of here. So you worked in silence, side by side.

It felt like an eternity but it must have only been two minutes later when you began to feel antsy. Like you were supposed to initiate a friendly conversion. Some kind of bullshit small talk. And then your better judgment kicks in, telling you ‘better not’ since the man beside you didn’t seem like the small talk type. In all fairness you weren’t either but it felt like you had to constantly conform to certain standards. Then your mouth started running without a second thought because one thought provoked you and now you just had to know.

“So…the bingo night…is that a regular thing?”

A side eye from him may as well have shot daggers directly into you, his movements pausing as he scowled. So you backtracked.

“N-nevermind–”

“Yes.” He answers abruptly, much to your surprise.

“Oh.”

Your voice comes out soft, as if trying not to spook an animal. And for as annoyed as he looks, he’s the one who answered after you attempted to give him an out. He was a very conflicting man, hard to read and mysterious.

“Every Wednesday. The senior home wants its residents to get out every now and then.”

“And…they chose a bar?” A smile tugs at your lips, one that you can’t help.

“What’s wrong with that?”

His face shows offense but his tone holds some kind of amusement, the slightest bit of personality seeping through the cracks and exposing itself to you.

“I just–nothing, it’s just, out of every place they could choose…a bar?” You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea, shaking your head.

“I mean, we’re the only place that offered.”

There’s a genuine kind of hurt behind his words. You’re unable to determine if it was directed toward your question or something else wading through his mind. Or if it was even meant to slip out in any way based on how closed off he was. Your guess was that his sudden projection of an emotion was a slip up and that it was up to you to ignore it otherwise he’d give you an even harder time.

“Oh.” Again, your soft spoken voice carries itself gently to his ears. “That’s…nice. Really nice.” You say honestly, glancing at him.

For having such tough armor and such offputting behavior, Eddie was pretty. His curls were messy and appeared to be pieced apart by his fingers running through them constantly, leaving them fuzzy and unkempt. But still appealing. And his side profile illuminated by the warm lights was soft but still manly, handsome. He was good looking, there was no denying that. His personality was rather repelling though and good looks could only get you so far, not that he was flaunting how attractive he was and using it to his benefit.

Coming out of your trance, you find that you’re both down to the last few glasses, silence taking over once again. Out of the corner of your eye, you take notice of the way Eddie’s mouth forms numbers again, without sound.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

All mouthed as he seems to breathe unevenly. You don’t draw any attention to your observation much like earlier when you’d caught him doing the same thing. There were depths to him that you were beginning to feel were unexplored by anyone other than himself. A loneliness detected beneath the surface of his solid and impenetrable armor.

~end~

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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 1 year ago

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to ashes, development

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Summary: a development on a mission means it's time to move on.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2,313

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Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Eighty-Five Days

“Holy shit, you got any idea how fuckin’ hard I am right now?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Oh, gross.”

Clint frowned.

“What? It’s seedy as hell,” you waved a hand. “You take me to the worst places.”

You swore, you could actually see him roll his eyes from the other side of the building. “Not exactly poetic, are they?”

The two of you were on top of an old disused warehouse in Harringay, listening with distaste as the men inside discussed their, ugh, merchandise. What was it with men and guns?

The weapons ring you’d fought in Holland Park was still at large, and Clint had spent the last two weeks tracking them down again. Honestly it was a testament to them that it had taken him this long, even without his old SHIELD connections. Whoever they were, they weren’t street level thugs.

…It made you feel the tiniest bit better about them getting the better of you in the park.

Clint had scrubbed through the local police files for any clues as to where they were setting up house. Between that and his own reconnaissance, he’d managed to track one of their prominent dealers to right under your feet.

“You still clear on the plan?”

Nodding, you unhooked the safety hood of your holster. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”

“Y/N…”

You looked up with a raised brow, fixing him with a pointed look. “Are you really about to lecture me about not taking revenge?”

Clint met your eye with an almost exasperated expression. “Point taken.”

“You ready for this?”

“That’s my line.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” you smirked, stretching out a kink in your neck. “Let’s go to work.”

***

You were really getting tired of these guys.

That’s the only thought that came to you as you rolled behind the crates to your left, gun still in your hand. You came to a kneel, your back meeting the wood with a dull thump. They were too prepared, to ready for the two of you.

This wasn’t supposed to end in a shootout. This was supposed to be a quick job, and yet… how did they know about the two of you? They’d mentioned a boss in the park, someone who had guessed you’d been Clint’s back up, but still… they knew you were coming. Not well enough to lay a proper trap, to ambush you before you got inside, but well enough to be ready.

You ducked lower with a curse as wood shattered above you, large splinters raining down on top of you. Thankful for the hood that kept them out of your hair, you exhaled and turned to fire two shots back around the corner. One shot went wide, but you smiled grimly as the second bullet buried itself in a man’s shoulder. He cursed in a heavy Eastern European accent as you ducked back behind the crate.

“Did you have a plan B for tonight, or are we winging this?” you said into your comms. You heard a cry go up among those shooting at you, followed by shouts of confusion and a few wild shots. You winced despite yourself for a second, waiting for a response in your ear to assure you that they’d missed.

“I’m working on one,” Clint replied gruffly, and you released a small, relieved breath despite your faith in him.

“So… winging it, it is then,” you sighed wearily, setting a new magazine into your handgun and adjusting your hold on the grip. “You know, I kinda hate being the one to draw their fire.”

“I’ll make note of it for next time,” he replied dryly, and another gurgling cry went up among the men between the two of you as Clint shot back out of the shadows long enough to take one of them down. He sliced up two – the one you’d wounded and the man closest to him. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright? We’ve got this under control.”

“Do we?”

“You doubt me?”

“I—”

“Fuck this!” shouted one of them – a burly brunette with a greying beard and tattoos scattered over his biceps. “Get one of the pushka out here and end this!”

“Clint—” you said warningly, stealing a glance over the crates.

“Don’t panic,” he warned, and you swore you caught the glimpse of silver in a brief shift of the light to let you know exactly where he was. “You’re not their biggest problem right now.”

“Clint—”

A deafening blast sounded and you fell forward, hands flying automatically to your ears. The crate to your left exploded – as did the wall in front of you, burst apart in a wave of electric blue energy.

“Holy—”

“Y/N!”

“I’m fine, just—”

“Forget the bitch! Get the Ronin!”

You scrambled away from where you’d hidden, throwing yourself behind an old forklift. Too late, you realized you’d left your gun behind, having dropped it when your hands had flown to your ears. Swearing to yourself, you winced as another blast fired. The building itself groaned as they blew another hole in a wall.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

“Just get outta here, Y/N! I’ll distract—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Barton!”

“Just go!” he barked back. “Now!”

“Goddamn it!” you growled, standing as you heard the men shout that they’d spotted the Ronin above them. You saw the gun – a bazooka-like cannon – turn upward, point directly at the shadowy figure above. “Stubborn-ass-son-of-a—”

The blaster fired, and you swept your arm upward in the same moment. A shield appeared seconds before the energy wave could hit Clint, knocking him to the side. The energy wave just barely glanced off the shield before blowing a hole in the roof and sending debris collapsing down on the men below.

“What are you—?”

“Take the moment, Clint; you can yell at me later!” you spat back through gritted teeth, sprinting towards the group still shielding themselves from falling bricks and timber. “Get out! I’m right behind you!”

Pulling the knife from the back of your belt, you turned it in your grip and plunged it into the hand of the man closest to the crate they’d pulled the pushka from, ignoring the way he screamed. You released it, instead grabbing the first weapon you could from the crate – thankfully, a much smaller hand-gun style weapon – and kept running. A few men managed to get off a few shots before you were clear, and you winced as you felt a bullet tear through your sleeve to graze your forearm.

Feet pounding too loud on the pavement, you made it quickly to an alleyway across the street, tucking your prize under your injured arm as you grabbed hold of the rung of a fire escape ladder with your other arm and swung yourself upwards. You could hear the building behind you continue to collapse as you climbed the ladder, and you winced as a hand gripped yours as you reached the top.

“Are you insane?”

“Are you?” you shot back breathlessly as Clint pulled you up onto the roof beside him. “What the hell kind of plan was that? You were gonna let them shoot you with that thing?”

“I’m faster than I look, Y/N,” he pointed out sourly. “And now they know—”

“They don’t know shit,” you argued. “There’s no way they could see the difference between that shield and whatever the hell they were shooting at us with.”

“It was still really stupid, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

Clint gave you a look that somehow managed to look grateful and exasperated all at once.

“Oh, and I totally get MVP this mission.”

“Is that a thing?” he replied dryly.

“It is now,” you said proudly, finally managing to catch your breath. Ignoring the pain throbbing in your arm, you held out the gun you’d stolen. “Ta-freakin’-da, Barton.”

***

“Lat—”

“What?”

Clint repeated himself louder, but his voice was still muffled by the wood of the door and the spray of the shower.

“What?”

You heard the shower door open and a few dull sounds before the bathroom door in front of you opened. Water dripped over Clint’s bare torso and soaked his hair, one hand clutching the towel slung around his waist. You watched him hesitate as he met your gaze, watched the adam’s apple in his throat bob. “Latveria.”

“Lat– Latveria?”

“This is starting to feel dangerously like a bit,” Clint said dryly, stepping back into the shower stall. You felt heat rise in your face as he closed the door and the towel was thrown up over the top of it. You stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment before closing the lid of the toilet and perching on the edge of it. “That’s where the weapons are being made.”

“And they’ve made it all the way out here?” you replied, swallowing as you tried to pointedly avoid staring at the shower. The stall was made of textured, frosted glass, and while it granted Clint modesty, you could still just make out his silhouette against the screen. His hands rose to scrub through his hair, his profile turned just barely away from you.

“They’re global,” Clint told you, raising his voice over the spray. “I heard reports of them turning up in New York back before… Fury had someone else working on it.”

“And we just happened to stumble onto them in a park in London?”

Clint’s hands lingered at the back of his neck. “They’ve been making bigger waves lately. Guess she’s been getting a little cockier since the Decimation wiped out half the authorities that could work their case.”

“‘She’?”

Clint’s hands moved down his chest to his stomach, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, face burning. Your thighs pressed together despite yourself. You knew your voice had broken slightly as you’d spoken that one word.

“Lucia von Bardas.”

The water shut off, and you straightened slightly, your hands threaded together in your lap. The towel disappeared into the stall. “Should I recognize the name?”

“Only if you’re trying to be familiar with Eastern European politics,” Clint told you, the shower stall opening after a moment. “She’s a pretty big name in Latverian political parties. She’s got interests in most of the big exporters coming out of that place, including Von Doom Industries. There’s been rumors of her dealing in some… less than legal businesses for a while now. Guess now we’ve actually got some proof.”

Clint stepped out; the towel tucked securely around his waist once more. He seemed to be avoiding your eye, wiping down the foggy mirror with his palm.

“And?”

“And what?”

“We’re going to take her out, right?”

You stood up, and Clint met your eye in the mirror. He sighed.

“That expression tells me you’ve already decided on the answer for us.”

***

“I’m starting to miss Stark’s money.” Clint sighed, settling back into the seat beside you.

“You’re the one who books these oh-so-deluxe travel arrangements,” you pointed out, attempting to find a comfortable position against the firm back of the bus seat. “You’d think with your super-ninja-spy-magic you’d be able to get us a fancier ride.”

“I’m not a ninja,” he told you patiently. “Or magic.”

“You’re a little magic.”

Clint shook his head with a smile; you were sure there was faint color on his cheeks as he dropped his head back against the headrest.

“So, how long exactly is this ride?”

He answered with his eyes closed. “…About two days.”

“Two days?!” you repeated, when you saw his smile grow slightly, you scowled. “I kinda hate you, you know.”

“I thought I was magic.”

“Magic and despised.”

He chuckled; eyes still closed. The bus pulled away from the curb, surprisingly empty. The sky outside was already dark, and the glow of the streetlights passed over the archer’s face. “We’re less likely to be recognized on the bus.”

“Curse you and your logic.”

Clint didn’t reply, and the two of you sat in silence for twenty minutes before you spoke again.

“It’s a little annoying how easily you can fall asleep.”

He smirked; eyes still stubbornly closed. “I’m not asleep.”

“…How about now?”

“Were you always this annoying on road trips?” he teased.

You laughed, closing your eyes too. “Oh, please. You’d be so bored without me.”

***

You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep still lingering. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but the wide expanse of road ahead of the bus told you you’d left the city a long time again, as did the faint pink glow tainting the deep purple of the night sky. You shifted, brow furrowing as you felt the warmth pressed up against your side and the rough fabric against your cheek. A comfortable weight rested against the crown of your head, and you frowned against the fuzziness still clinging to your tired mind.

Your eyes finally cleared to settle on the color of Clint’s jacket, and you felt his breath fan softly against your hair. You’d fallen asleep, your head falling against his shoulder, and he’d apparently done the same. His cheek was pressed against your hair, his breathing steady and even. A smile touched your lips as you let the sensation of his chest rising and falling lull you back into rest, and you ignored the sensible part of your brain that was trying to remind you that you were supposed to maintaining your distance from him.

Your eyes fell to your lap as your eyelids began to droop, and warmth flared in your cheeks. Your hand was on your thigh, and Clint’s rested beside it, his fingertips settled on the back of your hand. Your skin was warm and tingled under his touch.

Had he… had he been holding your hand?

tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @lol-you-thought @akumune@xxboesefrauxx @enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies @youralphawolf72 @maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky @melaclintbartoncorner @loki-is-loved@whovianayesha @bradfordbantams@alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86 @darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93@darkwhisperswolf

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depressionemonegasca · 1 year ago

Note

I think there should bé a fic where anyone from the grid would be third wheeling Landoscar, like, have you seen how these two interact.

So, I lack the ability and the time of f1writingbyme and LestappenForever to make this idea into a proper work like they did for "How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen" (check it out on Ao3 if you haven't already, definitely worth it) BUT BUT BUT, I can tell you how I think most of the grid would react in third wheeling Landoscar!

1) I feel like we should spare Checo, cause honestly this man has had enough as third wheel of Maxiel and Lestappen, I don't wanna give him extra traumas, SO –

2) Logan Sargeant: this one I really feel guilty about. Cause I like the narrative of him and Oscah being besties and still I cry over the sad edits of Logan just left behind. I think Landoscar with Logan has the most space for improvement?? I forgive Oscar even tho he definitely ghosted the poor Logan for the whole honeymoon phase with Lando (it's been almost two years, Osc, get a grip). I have a feeling Logan will speak up at some point and this would shake Oscar a little, so maybe he would be the more aware and more involved third wheel, possibly? They'll end up doing triple video-games championships with Lando and Logan mocking Oscar's gaming skills, mark my words.

3) Carlos Sainz: my man how does it feel to know you've wasted your chance (multiple chances, lets be real) for good? I have mixed ideas about this one, cause I think it would probably being more like Lando struggling to keep them both as close as possible resulting in Oscar being rightfully jealous 👀👀 so the third wheeling situation would be like Lando trying to involve a very annoyed and confused Carlos in their things (safe for work, ofc). I don't really see a way out of it.

4) Daniel Ricciardo: I mention him but I can't really explain cause honestly my idea of Daniel third-wheeling Landoscar is either him babysit them around Australia and bonding with Oscar over weird aussie habits OR OR OR something very NOT SAFE WORK so ( ... )

5) Max Verstappen: I love to think he'll remain an unbothered king, you know? Like he's well aware and a bit upset that his crepes companion invited someone else (beside from Daniel) to their dessert dates and that the two of them acts like lovebirds even without an actual physical contact. He'll probably send SOS texts to Charles and Daniel until a topic of (his) interest comes out and honestly at that point the power of maxplaining will win over pretty much everything and everyone. At the end of the day Landoscar turn out to be the real victims.

6) George Russell: poor thing was originally invited for a golf morning from Carlos (Landoscar were already supposed to attend), but Chili called off last minute so Georgie ended up with just the others two. LET ME TELL YOU he jumped off the golf cart cause he saw Lando placing a hand on Oscar's thigh and feared for his life. It took several minutes for them to notice he was aggressively walking behind. He was also hit by a golf ball because Oscar distracted Lando for a second too long, I guess you can figure out the rest.

7) Special mention to the PR and the McLaren team in general who's main job rn is having them to SIMPLY F O C U S outside the pit for like interviews and debriefings. I can picture Lando losing it after hearing a single compliment like "SO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY", cause ✨babygirl✨ energy hitting here and there, even tho he has tried to be somehow a model for Oscar, at least for what concerns work. Indeed I pity trainers and strategists bc ofc Oscar listens at them, but image them trying to explain a concept to him just for Lando to get there and rephrase it in the dumbest way possible and Oscar going like OHHHHH NOW I GOT IT, COULDN'T YOU EXPLAIN IT THAT WAY?

8) This is mostly a guilty pleasure but do we all agree they torture the entire f1 group chat with their subtle flirting?

IDK if this was what you had in mind but I really REALLY had fun writing it.

So let me know what you think in the comments down below, if you agree or if you want me to make it longer and/or more detailed or just to focus on a specific one in particular?

Again, my dms and box section are open to discussions, requests and any sort of (respectful) thing!

PEACE OUT 🤌🏻❤️

#ask juls #landoscar #landoscar headcanons #headcanon #f1 #lando norris x oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #mclaren #formula 1 #ln4 #op81 #logan seargent #carlos sainz #max verstappen #george russell #daniel ricciardo #the grid being the victims #landoscar took thirdweeling to a new level

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hbyrde36 · 10 months ago

Text

No Vacancy

Chapter 11: Private Party

WC: 6366 | R: Explicit | CH: 11/12 | AO3 | Now Complete!

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10

*EDDIE*

“Huh,” Eddie huffed, flopping down onto Chrissy’s neatly made bed. It jostled the carefully arranged mountain of pillows that were stacked up against the headboard, sending several of them tumbling to the floor. Why did girls always have so many goddamn pillows?

“So that’s why you never let me come in here before. You do live in a two bedroom!”

Chrissy bent to retrieve her fallen children and put them back in their proper place, except for the last, a bright pink fuzzy number with a cross-stitched peace sign on its front that she wacked him in the back of the head with. “I thought we’d moved past this. Haven't I apologized enough for the whole setup thing?”

He stuck out his bottom lip, arms crossed over his chest. “Will the lies never cease, Christine? I feel robbed! You and Robin were never sharing a bed?!”

“We are now and that’s what matters, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved a hand through the air. “But where’s the pining for the person lying right next to you night after night?! Where’s the lovesick staring at the other person’s face while they sleep and wishing you could just tell them how you feel?! Where’s the drama?!”

“I think we've had more than enough of that around here—for life. Maybe now it’s time for us all to just be happy.”

“Happy…” Eddie repeated with a sigh.

He hadn’t meant for it to come off so melancholy. He was happy—really and truly.

It’d been a month of pure bliss since he and Steve returned from Hawkins together hand-in-hand. Since all four of them had come back together with apologies, and made up.

The weeks had been full of passionate nights, and sometimes mornings when he and Steve were both too tired to do much more than cuddle once he came home from the bar—punctuated by lazy afternoons by the motel pool, and double dinner dates with the girls whenever Eddie’s work schedule would allow for it.

But just there, in the background, in the dark corner of Eddie’s mind was this great big looming thing.

“Uh oh. Is the honeymoon phase over already? Did Steve finally realize all your flaws are actually annoying, and not cute quirks?”

“No! Of course not. And I resent the implication that my many eccentricities are anything less than adorable.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”

Eddie hesitated. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a secret or anything, but it didn’t escape his notice that Steve hadn’t brought up the subject of his impending new job placement even once since their little talk.

“Nothing is wrong, exactly. It’s just… did you know Steve is staying here—or like, moving here—permanently, when the summer is over?”

“Robin mentioned he was thinking about taking a job at the elementary school, but I didn't know he’d decided.”

“Well, he has, and he wants me to think about staying too.”

Chrissy, who had turned away to rifle through the cosmetics bag sitting open on her dresser, froze, the tip of her mascara wand hovering just above her lashes.

“And are you?” She asked after a beat, resuming her makeup routine. “Uh… thinking about it, I mean?”

“Am I—” Eddie grunted, slapping his hand down on the bed. “It's literally the only thing I've been able to think about for weeks!”

“Weeks!” She screeched. “Wait, when did this happen?”

“The day we drove back.”

She gaped at him through the small mirror of her blush compact. “And you’re just telling me this now?!”

He shrugged. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“Eddie,” She sighed, snapping the compact shut and spinning on her heel to face him.

“So, what are your thoughts?”

While he knew she asked out of curiosity and concern for him and Steve and the implications for their future together, she was asking for herself too.

She’d often made comments over the years, during their all too brief phone calls and in letters, about them living near each other again one day, either in the same town like they did as kids growing up in Hawkins, or better yet, in side-by-side homes or at the end of the same cul-de-sac.

But those kinds of picket fence dreams were never Eddie’s style, or so he’d always told himself.

“I think…” Eddie stared down at his own hands now resting in his lap, nervously spinning his chunky rings around and around.

“Me and Steve, I think we’ve done this whole thing out of order. We’ve been living together essentially, since before we were a couple—before we were even friends really. Then we both said I love you within the first few weeks, and now considering permanent for-real moving? Moving towns, moving in together—on purpose this time? That’s huge! I mean, all that’s left after that is to get married, and grow old together, and die, and—”

Suddenly Eddie felt like he couldn’t get a full breath, what little air he did manage to take into his lungs doing nothing to ease the burning in his chest. His heart raced wildly, and he swallowed hard, tilting wide terrified eyes up to look at Chrissy.

“Oh god, do you think he wants to get married someday? I don’t know if I’m built for—“

“Ooookay, babe. Let’s just calm down for a second here.” Chrissy sank down onto the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into her side—resting her cheek on the top of his head.

“For one—honey, gay marriage isn’t even legal.”

Oh right.

Her words should have filled him with relief, and they did, but to his surprise, just as equal was the feeling of disappointment brought on by the reminder.

“And for two—” Chrissy went on. “It doesn’t have to be all that. You can always have your own rooms, if say, you decide you want to stay here but you need to slow things down with Steve, or just want some space.”

“No—” He was shaking his head before she’d even finished. “No, I don't want to go backwards. I��I love having him right there. I love his face being the last thing I see before I go to sleep, and the first I see in the morning even though that means waking up at an ungodly hour. It’s totally worth it for his goodbye kiss. I love his sweetness, his gentleness, and the sound of his voice. The soft little smile he gives me when he’s half asleep and I crawl into bed at the end of the night, like I'm his favorite thing in the whole fucking world.”

Eddie took a big breath, he could wax poetic on everything he loved about Steve for hours if she’d let him, but what it really boiled down to was one simple fact.

“I just love him, Chris.”

Chrissy sniffled, leaning away from him to wipe carefully at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “Sorry. I just never thought I'd hear you talk about someone that way.”

Eddie sat up too, shaking his head at himself. “Yeah, me either.”

“So, what's holding you back?”

“Honestly? I wanted to say yes right then and there, the second he told me. The second I recovered from the shock, anyway. But he looked so nervous about it, and scared, and we’d just put things back together again, and—and so I’ve been doing what he asked.”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“I really don’t want to mess this up, and I know I don’t have a lot of experience with this stuff, but I can't help feeling like it’s too soon, like we’re going too fast. What if it fizzles out, and a year from now we can’t stand the sight of each other?”

She snorted. “Highly unlikely.”

“How do you figure?”

“I think at this point you can admit that you’ve had a crush on Steve since high school, maybe even middle school. That’s a long time to carry a torch for someone. If it’s lasted this long, I’d say those feelings are here to stay.”

Eddie pushed himself to his feet, resisting the urge to stomp like a petulant child. “Jesus H. Christ. First Uncle Wayne, and now you?! I’m never gonna live that down.”

“Who’s had a crush on who since high school?” Robin's voice filtered in from the other room, just before she appeared in Chrissy's doorway.

“You didn’t tell me she was here.” Eddie scowled at Chrissy before swinging his gaze back around to settle on Robin.

They may have made nice since he fixed things with Steve, and Eddie did love the shit out of her, but he and Robin’s relationship was akin to that of a slightly antagonistic brother and sister, and he lived for the bit. “Don’t you have a job you should be doing, Buckley?”

Robin cocked her hip, leaning it against the door frame as she crossed her arms, giving him very pointed eye contact. “Don’t you, Munson?”

Frowning, Eddie glanced at his watch. He had a decent amount of time left before he had to be at the bar to start setting up for Chrissy’s surprise party later, but he still needed to go back upstairs to change, and to get a different little surprise ready for the other love of his life.

“So, you’ve had it bad for Steve since high school too?” Robin said when he didn't hit her with a comeback. “Jeez you two really are perfect for each other.”

Eddie began to roll his eyes but stopped mid-motion as he processed all of what she’d just said. “Wait… too?”

“Oh,” Robin’s eyebrows flew up. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Eddie took a slow step towards her with narrowed eyes.

“Right!” Robin straightened abruptly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder as she started slowly backing away. “So, I’d better get back to the desk. I was just stopping in to say hi and, uh, grab my lunch… I left it on the counter.”

“Robin,” Eddie growled after her, “get back here and explain yourself!”

“I'll see you tonight!” She shouted back, followed immediately by the slamming of a door.

Coward.

Eddie sighed, looking back to see Chrissy with both hands covering her mouth, practically in tears with silent laughter.

“I guess I'd better go too, don’t want to be late for work.” Eddie grumbled.

“Sure, Eds,” Chrissy said, eyes still sparkling. “I’ll see you later.”

As far as she knew it was going to be a night like any other. Steve was off the next day, so once the motel office closed for the night, he, Robin, and Chrissy would come to Tide’s to hang out where Eddie could join in from behind the bar whenever he wasn’t busy with customers.

It being a week out from her actual birthday, she didn't suspect a thing.

Eddie had talked to his boss, and Dan agreed to close the bar to the public from ten p.m. on for a private event so they could celebrate his best friend with the fanfare she deserved. The older man also offered to handle the guest list, aware that Eddie and his friends didn’t know many of the locals yet, and promised to keep it to those he knew to be allies or members of the queer community themselves, so everyone could feel comfortable being themselves for the night without fear of judgment.

As the clock ticked down to party time, Eddie couldn’t stop watching the door, his eyes searching for Chrissy’s blonde ponytail, or Steve’s familiar swoop of chestnut hair, any sign that his three best friends had arrived. They’d put up the private party sign an hour ago, and slowly began to clear the bar of any straggling tourists while the weekend bouncer, Manny, sat out front on a stool, ensuring no one uninvited got inside.

At ten o’clock on the dot they finally arrived, and for a moment all Eddie could do was stare.

Weather due to the heat, which had hit another level as July turned to August, or as a personal assault on Eddie’s sanity, Steve had forgone his usual polo shirts and button ups in favor of an old Madonna tour t-shirt that he’d cut into a crop top, showing off even more tanned skin to its best advantage against the crisp white of the fabric.

It was an effort, but Eddie forced himself to look away and jump into action, ducking under the bar to rush over and greet his people.

He pressed a quick kiss hello to Steve’s cheek but didn’t let himself linger, going right for his best girl straight after, scooping her up into a tight hug and spinning her around.

Chrissy threw her head back, squealing with delight as her feet lifted off the ground.

“Happy Birthday, Chris,” Eddie said as he finally set her down, pressing lips to the top of her head.

Her eyes darted all around the bar, taking in the small crowd, the rotating lights, the decorations, balloons, and finally the big hand painted banner strung up above the bar.

“This is all for me?” She asked.

Eddie grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulder as he turned to address their fellow revelers.

“Excuse me everyone!” He shouted, waiting for the music to be turned down before continuing. “I want to thank you all for being here, and Dan especially for helping put this all together. I’d like to introduce you all to the birthday girl!”

Hearty applause broke out across the room, as well as shouts of, “Happy Birthday!” And even a few good natured wolf whistles when Chrissy leaned away from Eddie to steal a kiss from her girlfriend.

“Were you in on this too?” Chrissy shouted to Robin over the cacophony.

Robin nodded, “I take no credit though. I might have known about it, but Eddie did all the work.”

Before Eddie could correct the record and explain again that he really owed it all to Dan, the man himself was striding up to them.

“Evening, girls, Steve.” Dan greeted them warmly.

Steve, and the girls to a lesser extent, had been spending more and more time at the bar lately, and had all quickly become friendly with Eddie’s boss.

“And a very happy birthday to you,” the older man continued, inclining his head at Chrissy. “If you’d like, I thought I could take you and Robin around and introduce you to some of your guests?”

The girls agreed, promising to meet back up with Steve and Eddie a little later, before rushing off to mingle.

With a palm pressed to his lower back, Eddie led Steve over to the bar. Not that he actually needed the guiding hand, but Eddie was gonna go nuts if he didn’t get to touch Steve soon, and it was one of the few ways he could do that while still maintaining some semblance of decorum.

Steve slid into his usual barstool down the end by the corner, furthest from the speakers so they could actually carry on a conversation, pouting when Eddie let him go to sneak back behind the bar.

“I thought you’d be on this side of the bar tonight.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, with you dressed like that?” Eddie drummed his fingers along the bartop. “Keeping this wood between us is the only way I'll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“Who said you had to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Steven,” Eddie warned.

“I thought this was a safe space tonight.”

“Yes love, but I don’t think Dan would appreciate it if I dropped to my knees for you in the middle of the dance floor.”

Steve sagged in his seat, letting out an over dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine.”

Eddie chuckled. Sometimes he wasn’t sure who was rubbing off on who more.

They chatted a little about Steve’s day on the beach while Eddie put together their drinks. The usual for Steve, Jack and Coke with lime, no ice, and a tequila on the rocks for himself. Apparently, the jellyfish were out in full force and it sounded like Steve had spent half his day treating burns with vinegar.

“So, Robin said something interesting earlier today,” Eddie said after a while, when Steve was finished with his stories, and he was pouring out their second round of drinks for the night.

“Oh yeah?”

Eddie opened his mouth to elaborate but quickly snapped it shut as his boss appeared at Steve’s side—alone.

“Abandoning our girls already, Dan?” Steve asked.

The older man huffed a laugh. “I was just getting in the way anyhow. Introduced them to Tracey and her partner Pat, and the four of them seem to be hitting it off. Figured I’d leave them to make friends. Tracey’s the manager over at Ocean First bank y’know.”

Eddie smiled widely as he met Steve’s eyes, and he knew they had to be thinking the same thing. Not to get ahead of themselves, but if Chrissy and Robin got in good with someone from the bank, it could make all the difference in the motel’s future.

“That’s, uh, a good friend to have,” Steve commented.

“You aint kiddin’!” Dan clapped Steve on the shoulder, his eyes scanning the room.

Suddenly he perked up, saying to himself “Oh, there he is,” and began to wave someone over.

Eddie followed his line of sight to the door and nearly choked on his own spit.

Motherfucker.

He felt all the blood drain from his face as another man approached, a younger man who looked to be about their age—a very attractive man who looked eerily similar to the one Eddie had seen from his hiding spot, kissing Steve goodbye on the fateful night that had changed the course of his life forever.

Eddie reached over, curling a possessive hand over Steve's where it rested on the bar. He held his breath, waiting for Steve’s reaction, but he was oblivious, looking down and taking a sip of his drink.

“Boys, this is my son, Danny.”

Steve's head snapped up at the name, looking horrified as his eyes landed directly on the newcomer.

“This is Eddie,” Dan continued his introductions, completely unaware of the sudden tension in the air. “My best bartender—though if you let slip to Brenda I said that I’ll deny everything. And this is—

Danny smiled, flashing a set of perfectly straight white teeth. “Lifeguard Steve.”

Eddie hated him.

“Oh! I see you two already know each other.” Dan chuckled, giving a little shake of his head. “Well, that’s a small town for ya! Anyway, I gotta go check on a few things so I'll leave you three to chat.”

Eddie watched the man walk away, wondering if it would be weird to ask him to stay, and when he turned back found that Steve wasn’t looking at Danny anymore, his wide worried eyes were now trained squarely on Eddie's face, hand tensing under his hold.

And whatever feelings of jealousy Eddie might have felt were gone in an instant, replaced with the need to prove to Steve, as well as himself, that he could handle this without doing any number of stupid things to ruin what they had.

He squeezed Steve's hand once firmly before letting go, leaning out to offer it to Danny, who took it with a raised eyebrow.

“Good to meet you, your dad tells me nothing but good things,” Eddie said, keeping his voice calm and even as they shook.

Danny tilted his head. “Ditto.”

Eddie cleared his throat, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants when they separated. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Sure. Just a coke though, I’m driving tonight.”

As he poured the soda Eddie could feel the man’s heavy gaze lingering on his face, scrutinizing him. He set the full cup down but Danny didn’t take it, instead resting his chin in his hand as he looked thoughtfully between the two of them.

Eddie topped off his tequila, and braced himself.

“So, Steve,” Danny said, addressing Steve directly for the first time. “Is this the guy?”

Steve's face, which had already been flushed and radiating discomfort, burned a bright cherry red at the question, but he didn’t shy away. He shot off a soft shy smile at Eddie as he answered. “Yeah.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open, and he nearly dropped the glass he was holding. “You told him about me?!”

“Good,” Danny said, ignoring Eddie’s outburst, holding back a laugh as he finally took a sip of his coke. “I’m really happy for you, Steve.”

It sounded sincere enough that Eddie might have relaxed, but then the man’s gaze was swinging his way.

“And you—I hope you know how lucky you are.”

Eddie swallowed hard, nodding absently, too stunned and confused to form any kind of verbal response.

“Well,” Danny stood abruptly, leaving his barely touched soda to sweat on the lacquered wood top. “It was nice to finally meet you, Eddie, but I think I'll get out of your hair. I should probably go see if my dad needs help with anything anyway. And it was good to see you again, Steve. I’m glad things worked out.”

There was a beat of tense silence between them as Danny left, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Steve was falling all over himself to apologize.

“Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no idea he was–”

Eddie couldn’t help cutting him off, saying again, “You told him about me? On your date?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you! I… Eddie, you have to know. You have to know the only reason I even agreed to the date with him was to get over you, and he could tell I was distracted.”

“Oh.”

“I know we never really talked about that night, um–”

Eddie reached out, once again covering Steve’s hand with his own. “Listen, baby, I'm not upset at you, okay? I’m not gonna freak out, or run away again, or any of that, I promise you. But I don’t think I need to hear the details.”

“No, Eddie. It’s not—” Steve shook his head. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nothing happened. Well, um, very little happened.”

“It’s fine, Steve. I was being an idiot then, and we weren’t—us. Whatever you did before we were together is none of my business.”

“But I couldn’t do it!” Steve blurted out.

“What?”

“We were—” Steve dropped his voice down so low that Eddie had to lean in close. “We were about to, and—”

“No, stop. I don't need to hear–” Eddie pulled back suddenly, waving his hands, only to immediately lean right back in, his chin practically resting on the bar, eyes level with Steve’s. “Okay, no. I mean, yes—no. Fine! Just tell me. It can’t be worse than whatever I'm imagining.”

“Oh my god, '' Steve groaned, burying his head in his hands for a second before looking up again, peeking at Eddie between the gaps of his fingers. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but he was two fingers deep in my ass and all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be you. So I told him I needed to stop.”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed. So many emotions coloring the single word.

It was so—sweet. And yes, admittedly, relieving in a way, though he’d had no claim to Steve at the time.

Okay, so Eddie was a fucking caveman, a jealous animal—so sue him!

But somehow, above all the rest, it was so incredibly fucking hot to learn that his baby, his needy boy had wanted him—and only him—so badly that he’d stopped practically mid-fuck with someone else.

Eddie’s breath picked up, and he knew his eyes had gone dark and heavy lidded, his hands balled into fists so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“Fuck,” Steve cursed, drawn out and breathy, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip, leaving it wet and shining in the party lights. “Eddie, you can’t look at me like that, not when there’s hours till we’ll be home where we can do something about it.”

Eddie’s eyes remained fixed on Steve as he shouted from the corner of his mouth to his coworker. “Hey Dawn, I’m gonna step out for a smoke, you good?”

He wasn’t even technically on the clock right now, they could manage without him for a while.

“Yep!” The girl replied without even turning around.

Eddie untied his apron, only breaking eye contact to duck under the bar. He took Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he pulled him along towards the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” Steve whisper-shouted from behind, barely audible over the music.

Eddie stopped just short of the swinging double doors, pulling Steve in by a belt loop to speak in his ear. “Somewhere we can do something about it.”

This late into the evening the kitchen was closed and empty of staff. The big overhead fluorescents had been shut off and every surface scrubbed to within an inch of its life, clean and gleaming in the soft glow of the emergency lights and the red exit sign on the back door.

Eddie continued to lead the way, past the prep tables and behind the line, all the way to the very back and through a heavy insulated door.

He tried to feel bad about how unhygienic it was to do what he hoped they were about to do in here, but in his defense the food was all wrapped up or in air-tight secure containers. Also bleach existed, and Eddie was more than happy to clean up after himself.

Besides, It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen in a restaurant walk-in.

It was a frenzy from the moment the door banged shut behind them. Eddie twisted his hand into the front of Steve’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Their mouths connected, all tongues and teeth and hot steamy breath mingling in the frigid air. Steve’s fingers pushed into Eddie's curls, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the root, while Eddie's hands found their way to that slutty little bare strip of tummy that his boyfriend had insisted on teasing him with tonight, gripping hard on either side of Steve’s waist as he moved them further in towards the rear of the walk-in.

Steve hissed as his back hit the chilled metal of the wall, his skin breaking out in goosebumps under palms hands.

“Sorry, baby,” Eddie cooed in sympathy, grinding his own hardness against Steve’s as he nipped at his lower lip. “It was this or the bathroom, and I didn’t particularly want an audience.”

Steve pushed off the wall, grinning as he grabbed Eddie hard by the shoulders to spin them around, switching their positions and pressing him into the wall instead.

Eddie went willingly, delighted as Steve unknowingly played right into the dynamic he was hoping for tonight, and waited for Steve’s lips to find his again, even reached out to pull the other man in again, but Steve slipped from his grip to drop straight to the floor, a desperate and hungry look in his eyes.

With well practiced fingers Steve quickly undid Eddie's jeans, yanking them down to his thighs so roughly he might have stumbled without the wall to lean against. He had a second to feel the cold air hit his most sensitive bits of bare skin before Steve swallowed him down, taking him right to the back of his throat.

Eddie could do nothing but moan, letting his head fall back against the wall for a breath, waiting for his brain to catch up with the rest of him, so lost in the sensation of Steve's mouth, scorching where it engulfed him, that he almost forgot his surprise.

Winding one hand through Steve's hair in encouragement, Eddie used the other to take Steve’s hand from where it rested on his thigh to guide it around to his ass. Steve only hesitated for a moment before kneading at the soft plump flesh, still bobbing his head up and down the length of Eddie’s cock, but faltered and froze as his fingers bumped up against the base of the silicone plug that had been nestled in Eddie’s hole for the last several hours.

Steve pulled off with a soft gasp, letting the tip of Eddie's cock rest on his tongue as he looked up, watching Eddie’s face with something like awe as he pushed on the plug.

From the tips of his toes to the top of his head Eddie felt his entire body flush with a new heat, it prickled along his neck and chest, and he had to fight to keep his eyes on Steve and not let them fall shut at the sudden intensity of his need.

“Where did you get this?” Steve asked, sounding wrecked in a way that Eddie suspected had less to do with the brief blowjob, and more to do with his little stunt.

Eddie whined as Steve tugged on the toy, pulling it out about an inch before pushing it back in again, punching the air from his lungs.

“Would you believe there’s a little mom and pop sex shop not far from here?” Eddie forced out between panted breaths.

Steve hummed, grazing his lips over the skin of Eddie’s inner thigh as he released the plug, leaving it in place for now. “I guess this town really does have it all.”

Eddie chuckled softly and reached down to pull Steve to his feet, cupping his cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

“Fuck me?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

Steve made a pained noise, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck, peppering kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, fuck—want it.” Eddie tilted his head back to give Steve better access to his throat. “Been thinking about you bending me over—dreaming about it.”

The words were barely out of Eddie’s mouth before Steve was growling, gripping him up again and moving him—manhandling him in a way he never had before as he gave Eddie exactly what he wanted—bending him over a low, blessedly empty shelving unit.

Steve pushed at Eddie’s shirt, dragging it roughly up and over his head before tossing it to the floor somewhere behind them. He leaned over Eddie’s back, pressing kiss after kiss down the entire length of his spine, pausing at the base of it, resting those big hands on Eddie’s ass again, spreading him wide and taking hold of the plug to gently pull it out, placing it on another nearby shelf.

Eddie swallowed back a whimper, his body clenching around nothing, suddenly empty after so many hours of being filled, but he knew what was coming would be even better, and the sound of Steve’s zipper coming undone only made him clench harder.

Eddie flushed again, another rush of warmth as beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow in anticipation. There was a brush of rough denim against the back of his thigh, and then velvet heat as Steve pressed in close, rubbing his hard length between Eddie’s cheeks, teasing over his hole.

“Condom?” Steve asked, sounding like it was a struggle just to get the word out.

They hadn’t been using them at all since both their test results had come back clear. And Eddie could appreciate Steve wanting to make the cleanup easier on him since they were out in public for the night, but it couldn’t have been further from what he wanted.

“No,” Eddie pressed himself back, his body shuddering as the tip of Steve's cock caught on his rim. “No, wanna feel it when you come inside me for the first time.”

“Fuck, okay.” Steve sucked air in harshly through his teeth. “Lube?”

“In my back right pocket.”

Eddie glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Steve raise the packet to his mouth, tearing it with his teeth before pouring it over himself. Some of the cool wetness dripped down onto Eddie as well, and Steve spread it around with two fingers, pushing just the tip of one inside at first. When he was met with no resistance Steve plunged them both in at once, reaching and curling until he found that sweet spot inside Eddie that sent his eyes rolling back, and had him writhing and bucking his hips against the hard metal of the shelf.

“Please, Steve, I’m ready,” Eddie begged.

Mercifully, Steve didn’t make him ask twice, easing his fingers free before lining himself up, and inch by gentle inch began to push his way inside.

It felt like an eternity before Steve finally bottomed out, and Eddie wanted to cry with how good it felt to be full, really full, for the first time in he didn’t even know how long. It wasn’t something he let himself have very often. He really did prefer to top as a rule, but sometimes—sometimes he just needed it, wanted it, and tonight he also wanted to give Steve the last part of himself that he’d been holding back.

With shallow careful thrusts Steve began to move, draping himself over Eddie’s back, pressing lips to whatever swaths of skin he could reach.

Tears streamed from the corners of Eddie’s eyes, overcome with the feeling of being had in this new way by someone he loved, who loved him back. It felt incredible but he soon needed more. Eddie tried to rock back on instinct, but found Steve hands already on his hips, stilling him before he could move an inch.

“Steve,” Eddie whined.

Steve shushed him, rubbing small soothing circles into Eddie’s lower back with his thumbs. “You always make me feel so good, just let me return the favor.”

“I thought you were cold?” Eddie grunted, trying again to fuck himself back on Steve’s length, but the other man’s grip was like a vice.

“Not anymore,” Steve said, and Eddie could practically hear the smirk in his voice, though he did sink a little deeper, still keeping his pace frustratingly slow and even, like he was trying to drive Eddie insane. “Seeing you fall apart like this? We could be standing in the middle of a snowstorm right now and I'd still be sweating.”

And oh he’d definitely be paying Steve back for this later.

“Baby, please,” Eddie whined again, a high-pitched, desperate sound he could hardly believe had come from his own mouth.

“How soundproof do you think this thing is?” Steve asked.

“How should I fucking know?!” Eddie growled in frustration. “Why?!”

Without warning Steve snapped his hips, slamming into him so hard that for a second Eddie couldn’t even make a sound. He threw his head back, mouth wide open in a silent scream of pleasure—followed by an actual scream. Steve surged forward, slapping a hand over Eddie’s mouth, pulling his head back to hiss into his ear, hot breath ghosting over Eddie’s skin as he rammed into him again and again, hard enough to shake the shelving unit that was bolted to the floor.

“No reason.”

There was nothing slow or gentle about Steve after that.

For a while Eddie lost himself to the pounding rhythm and the loud slapping of flesh as Steve fucked into him impossibly harder and faster.

He’d never last at this rate, it was just too fucking good, and he wasn’t alone. Before long Steve was reaching for him, stroking Eddie’s cock as his own breaths became ragged and he began to lose his rhythm.

With one last powerful thrust Steve came, cock pulsing violently as he buried himself deep inside, and Eddie’s last coherent thought as he followed him over that edge, losing control as he felt himself being filled up with Steve’s release, was that they really ought to switch things up more often.

Steve laid across Eddie’s back for a long minute as they both came down and caught their breath, neither really wanting to move at all, but inevitably Steve grew soft and slipped out, leaving a trickle of cum slowly leaking from Eddie’s hole in his wake.

“Eds, honey, do you have your bandana or anything on you?” Steve asked softly.

Eddie looked back, biting his lip, suddenly shy about what he wanted as the afterglow began to fade. “No, uh, but I was hoping you would plug me back up instead?”

“Jesus, Eddie. Yeah—yeah, okay,” Steve stuttered, his dick giving a valiant twitch against Eddie’s leg.

Eddie was loose enough, and slick enough with the combined mess of cooling fluids that the plug sank home easily, and he was grateful he’d worn black jeans tonight to help mask any residual mess.

When their pants were back in place and he’d retrieved Eddie’s shirt from the floor, Steve took him in his arms and lowered them both to the floor, cradling Eddie in his lap as he kissed his forehead.

Eddie knew the rest of the summer would go by in a flash.

Before long the season would be over, tourism would slow as vacationers traveled home for the year, and the beaches would start to empty.

The new school year would begin.

Though they hadn’t talked about it, Eddie had seen the note on their dresser. He knew Steve’s final interview was in two short days, and he’d be expecting an answer soon.

And for once, the idea of it didn’t fill Eddie with panic.

He'd done his thinking.

He’d weighed the risks and pondered the worries, done the calculations in his head and realized there had only ever been one answer to this equation.

For now he let himself bask in the moment, so safe and comfortable in the circle of Steve’s arms, the brush of soft lips pressed to his brow.

He knew what he wanted—had known it all along.

Now he just had to find the perfect way to tell Steve.

Chapter 12

All my thanks and love to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend, and cheerleader.

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