#i hate hersheys chocolate

[wolfprincesszola]

"Do you want a kiss?" | 707 x Reader

I couldn't think of anything else for the summary because I wanted it to be vague. Have a first kiss scene that's so cute that it makes my teeth rot every time I read it. I smiled so much when I wrote it that people in my house started to ask me if I was texting an s/o (i'm single asf). If you are one of my irl mutuals who know about my obsession with 707, no, you don't see this. Scroll away. (candy fic just in time for halloween <3) ————– Summary: You offer Saeyoung a kiss and he gladly takes the opportunity.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Food (Chocolate), Light Swearing (only one) ————–

"Do you want a kiss?"

707 choked on the water he had been drinking, quickly putting the cup down and going to grab a napkin to wipe his mouth and the remnants of the water that had gotten on his clothes. His voice cracked as he turned to you with confusion, "What?"

"Are you alright?" You asked, staring at him with concern etched on your face.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me." 707 brushed it off as he joined you on the couch, "I must've just heard you wrong."

Yeah, that was it. His lovely, innocent girlfriend wouldn't have suggested for them to share your first kiss right then and there.

"Do you want a kiss?" You blinked innocently, enunciating the words so that 707 wouldn't misunderstand you again. "What did you hear?"

Nope. He heard you correctly.

"I heard you correctly, I guess. I'm sorry, that's just such an odd question to ask when I'm drinking water."

"Why?" You raised an eyebrow, "It's something that people normally ask."

707 couldn't help but question the people you had been hanging around and debating trying to take you away from you friends without knowing the full story. Who had been asking you to kiss them and would 707 be able to take them in a fight?

"I don't know. I just never thought that you would be the one to ask me that first. I guess I also thought that it'd be in a more romantic setting than this."

You raised an eyebrow before glancing around the room, "Sitting in the living room together domestically isn't romantic enough for you? I guess I could present it down on one knee too..."

"No, no! There's no need." 707 laughed nervously, stopping you from getting down on one knee, "This is fine. This is romantic enough already."

"Besides, not everything we do has to be romantic." You hummed, smiling at 707, "What are you so nervous about? It's just me asking you if you wanted one. It's okay to say no."

Why weren't you freaking out about this? Why were you treating this like nothing? Had you done this before? Was he ready to make the move? What if he was bad? What if he was horrible and then you wanted to dump him? What if he messed things up because he had agreed to a kiss? Was he overthinking this?

Looking at your nonchalant face, he definitely was.

"It's okay to say no, Saeyoung." You repeated, "You don't have to say yes to make me happy. I don't care either way."

"You don't?" 707 raised an eyebrow.

It wasn't the earliest stage of your relationship together as the two of you had been together for more than half a year already. However, you still had yet to do many things. It took you two almost three months to start holding hands even because of the anxiety 707 held and the inability to make a move you had. You two were fine with the slow pace you were going at though. It was nice and a fresh breath of air from the constant whirling of the rollercoaster life took you two on.

"Of course I don't. Why would I?"

"Well because I just assumed that you never had one before, so this would be as big of a deal for you as it is for me." 707 admitted, "Are you telling me you have?"

You stared at 707 as if he was insane, "Everyone I knew has had one, especially in your elementary school days. Don't tell me you've never had one."

"Of course I haven't! You know me. I mean, you're my first girlfriend."

You raised an eyebrow, "What does that have to do with ever having a kiss?"

707 flushed, knowing that he had greatly assumed that if you had already had your first kiss, it had to have been from your previous boyfriend. 707 did not know a single thing about your ex, but wanted to strangle him for ruining the experience of you ever sharing your first kiss with 707. Great, you had officially turned 707 into a homicidal maniac, ready to kill anyone that got in the way of his relationship. "You're right, it doesn't."

"But you're serious about that? You've never had your first kiss?" You seemed appalled by the statement.

"No!"

"Somehow I doubt that."

"What? You think I'm so likeable that people are just lining up to give me kisses?" 707 accused you.

"Well, yeah! You're the Saeyoung Choi. You're my boyfriend. If I like you, that means that there had to have been several friends of yours that have offered you them." You scoffed, "I mean, I'm not very much of a likeable person and I still had people offer them to me."

"Did you take the offers?"

"Of course I did! It was free kisses. Why wouldn't I?"

"You whore!" 707 scoffed, amusement clearly sparkling his eyes with no malicious intent to the comment.

He was surprised though. For someone who seemed very new and innocent to the relationship idea just like he was, you sure had a lot of experience if you had kissed many people. 707 felt a little jealous at the fact that he wouldn't be your first kiss, although he knew that his thinking was silly. You were his and would always be his for as long as he cherished you. He didn't have to worry about you accepting anyone's offers to kiss anyone while you two were together. There was at least that.

"What? You're telling me you've always refused it when people have offered them to you? I completely doubt that's true." You examined 707 for body signals to show that he was lying.

"They've never offered them to me." 707 admitted, "Unfortunately."

"You never bought any either?"

"Why would I? The booths are just overpriced for something I know I'll experience in time."

"Weirdly poetic for something as small as a kiss." You smirked, "Would you like to try it now?"

His heart started to pound. Was this really happening? Was he really going to kiss you for the first time?

"More than anything." He breathed out as he stared at you. "I just...what if I mess up?"

"Mess up?" You raised an eyebrow, "I doubt you can mess up at this."

"Says who?"

"Says me, who has gotten plenty of kisses in the past!" You giggled.

"Well, I've never had one before, so I don't know what to do."

You stared at your boyfriend before exhaling in amusement, "Alright, fine. I'll help you out. Move your phone, I'm going to sit on your lap."

"O-oh, okay." 707 cleared his throat as he moved his phone, trying not to show his flushed face. You straddled him, your legs in between 707's as you were facing him. 707 wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off. "How do I do this?"

"Just relax and close your eyes." You instructed.

707 did just that, feeling the darkness comforting him. He really hoped that you couldn't hear just how loud his heart was pounding.

"Open your mouth."

707 let confusion wash over his face as he emphasized every word to make sure he knew what you were saying, "Open my mouth?"

"Open your mouth." Your voice remarked as he could hear crinkling of something.

"Why would that be beneficial in any way, Y/N?" 707's voice had raised from confusion all the way to bewilderedness.

"Just do it, babe, before I force your mouth open. That's the correct way." You remarked.

"Alright, alright." 707 sighed before letting his jaw open, feeling you move yourself closer to him and his mouth. There seemed to be no more sounds of crinkling as something--your fingers--brushed against his lips. His heartbeat fastened as he was waiting for your lips to close in on his.

Then, he tasted chocolate.

Sweet, creamy, and velvety chocolate. It had the same distinct taste that Hershey's chocolate kisses had.

Oh...that's what you meant. His eyes fluttered open as he looked at you, smiling.

"How is it?"

707 burst out laughing, pulling you close so that he could bury his face into your chest in embarrassment. "Oh my universe. Y/N, you're so innocently sweet. Just like this kiss."

"What?" You laughed, pushing 707 gently off of you so that you could look at his face, "What are you talking about?"

"I thought you were talking about an actual kiss, not a Hershey's. I've had plenty of chocolate kisses before." 707 brushed a hair out of your face as he waited for the recognition to hit you.

"Huh? Oh-OH!" Your eyes widened as you burst out laughing too. "Is that why you were so flustered and nervous?"

"What else was I supposed to think when you just randomly offered me that?"

"The treat! I didn't think you would think of that!"

"Clearly not." 707 gasped for air as he finally finished the chocolate in his mouth before he could choke on it. He cupped your cheeks, "My innocent, sweet girlfriend."

"Shut up." You huffed, "So you're telling me you've had a Hershey's kiss before?"

"Yes, plenty."

"But not a kiss on the lips?"

"Nope. I've never been offered that."

"Then...do you want a kiss?"

707 stared at you, wondering if you were truly offering it this time. His voice cracked as he tried to ask you to clarify, "What?"

"Do you want a kiss?" You remarked, enunciating things the same way you had asked in the beginning of the situation. "It's okay to say no, babe."

"No, I want it." 707 gave a small smile, "How do I do this?"

"Just close your eyes and this time, close your mouth." You giggled as you cupped 707's face. Your chest was pressed against his and he could practically hear your heart racing at a hundred miles an hour. His heart was pounding almost the same speed as yours.

707 slowly closed his eyes as you leaned in, fully shutting them when he could feel your breath on his face. Your lips brushed together before finally, you gently pressed your lips against each other and then pulled away.

You tasted like Hershey's chocolate kisses and strawberries. Your lips weren't chapped, but instead waxy as only moments before you offered him a kiss, he had watched you apply your signature strawberry chapstick. He hadn't realized how much he had wanted to know what it had tasted like and how it was like to be so close to your lips until the moment he had gotten a taste of you. Maybe that was why your chapstick never seemed to last you long. It would dry out in hopes that the chapstick would once again touch your lips, becoming addicted to that sensation. Now that 707 had gotten a taste of his own, he knew that it would become an addiction of his.

"Was that okay?" You asked as 707's eyes fluttered open, staring at his girlfriend that was facing him with anxiety written all over your face.

All 707 did was pull you closer to him with his arms still wrapped around your waist before having his right hand travel to pull you face closer to his. He crashed his lips onto yours as an answer, desperately wanting another taste of your lips, of you.

You returned the energy as your hands traveled from his face into his hair. 707 could not care less about how you were messing up his hairstyle when you had your fingers in his hair while you were kissing him. Those combined together made the top ten list of his favorite things you did in that moment.

When you two separated--albeit only because you two were humans that needed to breathe--you pressed your foreheads together, whispering a feisty remark, "You never answered my question."

707 couldn't help the smile that spread onto his face, "It was more than okay."

"Good."

You two stayed in quiet silence, enjoying each other's company. Even as you shifted off of 707's lap and onto the spot next to them, you took comfort in nestling closer to one another and holding each other.

The only thing that interrupted the silence was when you held out another chocolate kiss, "Do you want a kiss?"

"I'd love one." 707 replied as he pulled you closer to him for a kiss before grabbing the chocolate and popping it in his mouth. ————– If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and it's just two clicks of a button (trust me, likes don't do anything to help me). Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see what other fandoms I like to write for! :)

[gutsfics]

torn between Hunt being either some kind of chocolate snob who Refuses to eat chocolate if its not one of three specific fancy as hell brands Or him being one of those freaks that eats that nasty Loser Chocolate

[exculis]

ohhhh my godddd foreign chocolates.....

im one of the few americans born with a natural aversion to the nasty shit they try to sell us here. which sucks. because that is basically all you can buy.

[ikeameatballspoisonedme]

UrghhhHHHhHH I hated dark chocolate when I was a kid but now THEY ARE SO GOOD ARGH

[lesservillain]

masterlist

summary: attempts to get on your good side are made.

cw: sunshine!eddie x grumpy!reader, like really grumpy

wc: 5.7k

It started the week after Christmas. To most it could be seen as a peace offering. An olive branch being offered as a way to get on your good side. Something the person that left said offering at your desk had not done yet in the few short weeks he’s been working here.

When you walked back from the bathroom you noticed something on your desk that wasn’t there before. You picked up the small object and examined its wrapper; a small butterscotch morsel. You sighed, taking the candy in your hand and turning your attention to the bay.

Pushing open the door, you walked around the cars until you got to Bob’s station, stopping just a few feet away from where Eddie was bent over the hood of a Jeep. Taking aim, you reel your arm back, launching the piece of candy across the stations. It hits him smack dab in the back of the head, making his greasy hand reflexively reach for the spot where it hit. He leaned up, looking all around until his eyes met yours, and then he smiled.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he says, making you cringe. You hated the nicknames he gave you. 

“I told you not to call me that,” you spit, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Eddie corrects, ducking his head down. He looks around at the ground around him until he finds the offending piece of candy, picking it up and holding it in his hand. “I see you got my gift,” he says, shaking candy in his hand.

“I don’t like butterscotch,” you say plainly, crossing your arms. Whether you actually liked butterscotch or not didn’t matter to you in this scenario.

“Really?” He says with a tilt of the head. “That surprises me. Took me for a butterscotch girl.”

“That’s what you get for making assumptions about me,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. He huffs out a laugh, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth, his cheek puffing out from where the candy sits.

“I’ll try something different next time,” he says, giving you a finger gun.

“No, you won’t. Don’t do it again.”

But, of course, he didn’t listen.

A few days later, while you were on the phone with a customer that was, frankly, getting on your last nerve, the doors to the bay opened up. You ignored the sounds of the garage as you listened to the customer complain about the price of a part replacement, wishing you could just tell him to go somewhere else if he didn’t want to pay the price you were giving him. 

Just as you were about to speak again, you see something out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head to find Eddie with a finger over his mouth, instructing you to be quiet. Saying nothing, you watch him with a mouth agape as he reaches into his coverall pocket, pulling something out of it. His hand moves slowly, reaching over the counter and landing on the desk in front of you. His hand opens and he retracts it, leaving a Hershey kiss in it’s wake. You blink, looking at it dumbfoundedly.

“Hello? Hello?” You hear from the other side of the line.

“I’m sorry, sir, I was trying to see if I could find the part cheaper on another website,” you say as your recovery, shooing Eddie away with your free hand. Eddie takes the hint and scurries off, the sound the garage signifying that he did indeed leave.

You finish the phone call and hang up the phone. After threats of looking elsewhere, you finally convinced the man that you would have his car put at the top priority list if he stayed in business with you, which seemed to be enough to satisfy him. You brought your hands to your temples, attempting to massage the impending migraine away. Looking off to your side, the Hershey kiss catches your attention. You contemplate for a moment. The sweet treat didn’t sound like something so bad after that hellish conversation. But you didn’t want Eddie to think he won if you ate it. With a sigh, you grabbed the piece of chocolate and shoved it into your drawer for later.

But Eddie didn’t stop.

Every couple of days Eddie found a way to drop off a little piece of candy to you. It didn’t matter if you told him to quit playing around or that he was slacking off at his job, he was still sneaking you a kiss one way or another. They were starting making a little collection in your desk drawer, so you decided to take measures into your own hands.

“There,” you say placing the little glass dish that you got at the dollar store on the counter. You opened up your drawer and collected the candies, letting them cascade into the bowl with little thuds. Right on cue, the door to the bay opens up and fills the lobby with the sounds of rock music and various machine sounds.

“Oh, good,” you say, gesturing to the bowl in front of you, “just in time. Go head and make your deposit here.”

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking at the little candy filled dish. A toothy grin spreads across his face that slightly annoyed you. You were hoping he would be more upset, but he’s clearly more amused than anything. Reaching into the pocket of his coveralls, he pulls another kiss out and plops it into the bowl with a tink.

“This is a pretty good idea,” Eddie says, checking the bowl out, moving it a few inches with his finger.

“Thanks,” you say before sitting back down at your seat, unhappy with his complement. You swivel your chair to face your computer, going back to your business as Eddie stands at your counter. His finger taps on the marble and instantly annoys you. “Can I help you with something?” You ask, a bite to your tone.

“Actually, yes,” he says, leaning his top half over the counter and encroaching into your personal space. You look at him pointedly, but he doesn’t back off. “I need a part ordered.”

“Put in an order form then,” you say, keeping your eyes on your computer screen.

“It’s not for the shop,” he says, and that got your attention.

“What’s it for if it’s not for the shop?”

“It’s for my van. Kinda need a new muffler.”

“I thought you were louder than normal coming into the shop this morning,” you say, and Eddie laughs.

“Glad I could get your attention.”

“You know you still have to pay for the part,” you explain to him.

“I know, but your dad said I’d only have to pay shop price for it since I can put it on myself.”

“That’s true,” you say, pulling up one of the websites that you order your parts from. “What are you looking for?”

Eddie rounds the corner of your desk until he’s standing directly next to you. It catches you by surprise to the point where you stop and stare at him like he has two heads. You can smell the mixture grease and of his cologne wafting into your nose from how close he is to you.

Eddie says what he’s looking for, but you don’t react, still unsure of the sudden closeness of him to you. Eddie waves a hand in front of your face and it brings you back to the matter at hand. You take a hand and press it into his side, shoving him back a few steps.

“Personal space, please,” you finally say, shaking your head.

“Oh, sorry,” he responds, shifting where he stands. He repeats the part again, and you start typing it into the search bar. It takes a few awkward moments to load, but eventually the screen pops up with a few results for the muffler Eddie is looking for.

“That’s it!” Eddie says, his voice startling you as he’s now leaned in next to you as he looks at the screen. You turn to look at him, but he’s too focused on the monitor to notice your disgruntledness. “How much is it?”

“Looks like it’s running around $43 on this site,” you say, leaning away from him. He straightens up, bringing a hand to his chin.

“Do I have to pay it now?” He asks. “Or can I pay for it when it comes in?”

“We would charge it to the company and you would pay for it when the part comes in.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says nodding his head. “When would it come in?” 

“Probably within the week. This company is in the state so it doesn’t take long for parts to arrive.”

“And we get paid this week, so that should work out…” Eddie gets lost in thought for a moment, and you silently wish he would leave your space already.

“So you want me to order it?” You ask, hoping to speed this up.

“Yes, princess--I mean yes ma’am.” He corrects himself at the last second, but the nickname still sends a wave of anger through you.

“Alright, I’ll order it. Now, get back to work.” Eddie gives you a little salute before walking behind you and back through the bay doors.

“Is it okay if I work through my lunch?” You hear Eddie ask as he approaches your desk. 

“Sure you can,” your dad says, suddenly appearing from his office with a stack of papers. He sets them down in front of you and you grab them, looking through the invoices.

“Okay, cool. I’m gonna pull my van in, if that’s okay?” Eddie asks.

“Go ahead,” your dad says. Eddie gives a quick thanks and then is gone in a flash.

Just as he leaves, a growl erupts from your stomach, eliciting a laugh from your dad.

“Did you forget your lunch or something?” He asks.

“Left if on the counter,” you say frustratingly.

“Do you want some of mine?”

“No, I’ll just order something,” you say with a sigh, “Haven’t had the chance to think about it yet today.”

“Well, don’t wait too long, it sounds like your body is about to eat itself,” your dad says before heading towards the break room. You grumble under your breath, setting the papers that he gave you down before fishing through your drawer until you could find the Chinese take out menu. You dialed the number and placed your order, the restaurant giving you an estimated 30-45 minute wait time. Your stomach growled again, and but all you could do was agree to wait and hang up.

Sitting back in your chair, you look up to see the candy dish you had sitting up on the counter. You deliberated taking a piece and eating it to try and quell your hunger until your food arrived. Leaning back, you look out to see Eddie already has his car back up and is in the process of getting it set up to work on. Surely he was distracted enough that if you snuck a piece he wouldn’t notice.

You leaned forward in your chair, reaching out for the little pieces of temptation that were just in your reach. Snagging one, you examine it in your hand for a moment before unwrapping the wrapper. Wasting no time after it’s free of it’s confines, you pop the chocolate delight into your mouth and let the sweet taste hit your tongue. It tastes like heaven in your current state, ending all too quickly when you have to swallow it. 

Looking at the dish again, you think it couldn’t hurt to have one more. After all, it would be a while before your food showed up. You grab another piece, unwrapping it quickly and eating it without second thought. The second one turned into a third, and then a fourth. You couldn’t stop yourself, each piece of chocolate better than the last. It was only when you got the sudden feeling of being watched that you paused in your indulgences. Turning slowly, your eyes met with a pair of brown ones that matched the treats you were currently devouring. They were creased at the edges due to an upturned grin on the mans face that they belonged to.

You’d been caught taking the olive branch that had been offered to you. 

Out of instinct, you quickly raise your hand, your middle finger prominently on display as you flip off the man staring you down. He lets out a laugh that you can only see, the glass between you blocking out the surely obnoxious sound. You turn away from him with a growl, laying your eyes on the massacre that had happened to your desk. Picking up the trash can, you swept the small foils into the bin, getting rid of the evidence of what had happened. You had to remember to take out the trash by the end of your shift today.

Snow fell softly onto the ground outside of the office doors. It was a blinding site as you were up and personal with the glass at the current moment, wishing you had a way to cover the scene outside as you worked on the task at hand. It wasn’t one you were fond of, but it was one your dad insisted upon as the next impending holiday drew nearer.

For many reasons valentines day was not your favorite. It fed into the commercialization of holidays that you hated for one. It was also way too pink and red for your liking. But most of all, it was about the one thing you despised the most. The fake, ick ridden idea that love was something to be celebrated. It felt like the whole holiday was made to mock you and your disdain for the feeling that you swore to yourself that you’d never even sing about if you could help it. If Dolly Parton, as beautiful as she is, could write a song about another woman stealing her man, then you know love isn’t worth it.

And yet, here you are, hanging up the crude hearts and little cupids that your dad had you pick up from the local party store. You held the tape between your fingers, pushing up the current garland against the cold metal of the window frame until you found it sufficient, sticking said tape over the paper to keep it in place. The sound of the bay door caught your attention, and your face falls flat when you see your least favorite coworker.

“Having fun up there?” Eddie asks as he walks over to you, not quite as tall at you were standing on the step stool underneath you. 

“You think I’m having fun doing this?” You ask him, and he shakes his head.

“Knowing you, I’m sure you’re just delighted right now.”

“You know me so well already,” you say with a fake coo, bringing a hand to your heart for dramatic effect.

“That’s my job, sweethea-” You shoot Eddie a look that makes him stop mid sentence. “Sorry, ma’am,” he says with a nod, but he’s still smiling.

“Did you come to make a deposit today, Munson?” You ask, expecting a piece of chocolate to be pulled from his coveralls.

“Nope, you ran me dry. Gotta wait until all the Valentine’s chocolate goes on sale for more,” he says with a shrug. 

“Then what did you come in here for?” You ask, not sure why else he needs to be in here bothering you.

“It’s slow today,” he says pointing a thumb back at the bay, “Thought you might need some help.”

Initially the thought irritated you that Eddie wanted to slack off in the garage to help you. The guys out in the bay would never abandon their post, finding something to do to help out a bit. You wondered if Eddie even asked if anyone needed any help. But the more you thought about it, the more you thought about all the work you needed to get done that was being taken up by this stupid decorating. 

So, Eddie wanted to help you? Fine.

You step down from your stool and walk over to your desk, grabbing another garland and walking it over to him. “Here,” you say handing him the paper, “hang this up like I did that one.” You hand him the little roll of scotch tape and turn around, heading back to your desk. Wordlessly, you grab a stack of invoices and start going over them. 

If Eddie has any issue with the task you gave him, he didn’t say. Wordlessly, he followed your instructions and hung the garland up like you told him. You barely paid him much attention while you worked to separate the papers by date, and then again by name. It wasn’t until he approached the counter that you even remembered he was there. He looked over the other decorations that sat there and parsed through them.

“These need to go anywhere specific?” He asks, picking up a small stack of assorted hearts and other cut outs.

“Nope, just make it look nice,” you say, barely looking up at him.

“Aye aye, captain,” he says as he turns on his heel, walking away without another word.

From then on only the sounds of the radio and Eddie’s occasional ripping of tape or fiddling of papers could be heard in the lobby. You cringed at the lovey-dovey songs that came from your dad’s office, wishing you could go in and just turn the damn thing off at this point.

“Hey Dad,” you called towards his door. You only called him dad at work if you really wanted something, so you hoped he would be more inclined to listen to your request by calling him that.

“Yes dear?” He calls back in a sing songy tone.

“Can you put it on The HXC, please?”

You hear the scrambling static of the radio stations as your dad turns the dial, eventually landing on the local rock station. It’s about half way through Metallica’s Master of Puppets, which wasn’t your favorite, but it was better than the bullshit playing before. 

“Oh, hell yeah,” you hear Eddie say. Looking up at him, you see he looks as if he’s playing air guitar to the music, bobbing forward and back as he does.

“Fan of Metallica?” You ask him. He stops and turns to look at you, almost surprised that you’re even speaking to him.

“Huge fan,” he says with a grin and you nod your head. “I know this song on guitar.”

“Of course you play guitar,” you say, rolling your head dramatically as you speak.

“Does that do anything for you?” He asks playfully, his eyebrows jumping up and down.

“Not a lick,” you say, deadpanning him.

“Damn, I was sure you liked guys in bands.” He says, snapping his fingers.

“Another assumption,” you say, pointing at him. “Bold of you to assume I like anything. Or anyone for that matter.”

“You don’t even have a celebrity crush?” You shake your head. You may have a poster of David Lee Roth in your room, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. You told yourself it was more for appreciation sake than admiration anyway. “Damn, do you like anything?”

“I like rock music an and ice cold beer.”

“You must be your father’s favorite son,” Eddie quips with a laugh.

“I like girly things, too,” you say defensively. 

“Do you like flowers?” How specific.

“I like some flowers.” You think for a moment. “Mostly sunflowers. They bloom at my favorite time of year.”

“Ah, so you’re a fall girl, huh?”

“I like the transition between summer and fall. The weather starts to cool down, but isn’t too cold yet. And it’s close to Halloween.”

“Oh, you like Halloween? What’s your favorite scary movie?” Eddie asks, walking over to your desk, leaning over the counter.

“Um, probably Halloween. Big fan of Michael Meyers.” 

“That’s a good one. What about Friday the 13th?” 

You shift in your chair to better face him. “It was good, but not my favorite. I couldn’t believe it was his mom the whole time.”

“I know! What a twist, right?” Eddie says throwing his hands up.

“Right! I was so--wait a minute.” You put a finger up and close your eyes. “We’re at work. We should be working.”

“Shit, you’re right. Sorry, boss!” Eddie calls out towards your dad’s office.

“You guys were fine! I was enjoying the conversation,” your dad says.

“Shoo,” Eddie says pretending to wipe his forehead with his hand. “Not gonna lose our jobs today.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” you say, peering around him to check out the work he’s done. To your surprise, it doesn’t look half bad. The hearts all seem to be in a neat zig-zag pattern along the glass of the bay, alternating between designs so it doesn’t look too crowded in one spot. “Not bad,” you say, giving a nod towards the decorations.

“Oh, thanks,” Eddie says, turning to look at his work. “It’s kinda nice to turn your brain off and just tape things.”

“I have stuff to hang from the ceiling if you’re ready for the next task,” you say, reaching under your desk for a plastic bag full of more decorations.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Eddie says, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll probably need a ladder, though.”

“Well, duh. Didn’t expect you to jump the whole time,” you say with a laugh. Eddie’s head snaps to you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “What?” You ask, unsure of his reaction.

“You laughed,” he said.

“Yeah, I know how to laugh,” you say defensively. “I’m not as stuffy as you think I am. I just take my job very seriously. This place is going to be mine one day and I treat it as such.”

“That’s so cool.”

“What, that I’m going to own this place?” Eddie nods. You shrug, not trying to make a big deal out of it. “I don’t know if it’s “cool,” per say. It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to be a cool boss lady. Can’t wait to work under you.”

The thought of Eddie being someone under you one day was enough to make you smile. You’d be his boss, and you’d get to tell him what to do without question from your dad.

“That’s if you make it that long,” you chuckle.

“True, but I don’t see myself leaving anytime soon. Really like it here so far.”

“That’s because you’re in here doing piddly work for me instead of your actual job.”

Eddie waves his hand at you with a pshh. “That’s just an added perk. I really do like working on cars. It’s fun to do stuff with my hands.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe you’ll be the next Bob. He’s been here since the previous owner.”

“Yeah, that dude is seriously old. Like, should have retired ten years ago old.”

“He tried to, but I think his wife was trying to get him to go out more and he didn’t want to, so he came back to work.”

“He kinda reminds me of my uncle. Really hard worker.” Eddie’s cheery expression drops at the mention of his uncle and you’re quick to wonder what could be making him so despondent over the subject. But, you choose not to pry for the sake of time being more wasted.

“Well, you better go get that ladder,” you say after a quiet beat. Eddie looks at you and nods.

“Where’s it at?”

“In the back room,” you say, pointing your thumb behind you. Eddie nods again and takes off.

You get a few moments of peace before Eddie is lugging the ladder into the lobby. He gets right to work, not bothering to ask you where things should be hung. But he seems to be getting on fine on his own, so you preoccupy yourself with your work. A solid hour goes by with no words spoken, only the sounds of the radio and Eddie going up and down the ladder to be heard. It was slow season in the shop, so you were able to get a lot done in a fairly quick amount of time. Setting down the final invoice, you decide it’s time to take a smoke break.

“Tony, I’m running outside,” you call out, throwing on your jacket.

“I’ll cover phones,” your father calls back.

“Takin’ a smoke?” Eddie asks as he descends from the ladder.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back. There’s more in the bag you can put up if you want.”

“I’m gonna come out with you if that’s cool,” Eddie says, setting the remaining decorations down on the counter. You sigh, sagging your shoulders.

“Well hurry up then,” you say as you head for the bay door.

Eddie rushes ahead of you, pulling the door open and holding it for you. He does a bow to usher you inside the bay and you roll your eyes at him. Once you’re through the threshold, Eddie bolts past you to his locker, quickly putting his coat on as he tries to catch up with you. As you push the door open, his long arm extends from behind you, his body going flush against yours as he swings it open all the way. The cold air hits you and instantly chills your body, but you rush into it just to get away from the man standing behind you.

“You really have a problem with personal space,” you say as you walk over to the plastic ashtray. 

“Would you be surprised to hear that I’ve been told that before?” Eddie says, fishing through his pocket for his cigarettes.

“Not at all. I think you need a ruler to help you judge your distance sometimes,” you say, pulling your lighter out to light your own cigarette. You try to spin it a few times, but it just wont seem to catch a spark no matter how hard you try.

“Need a light?” Eddie asks, taking a few steps toward you.

“Fuck, I guess so,” you say shaking your lighter to find it’s ran out of fluid. You turn towards him and flip your hand palm side up, fully expecting him to hand you his lighter. Instead, you find him directly in front of you, which makes you stop in your tracks. He raises his hand, capturing the end of the cigarette in your mouth and holding it in place. You watch as he brings the end of his own lit cigarette and connects it with yours. You get a good look at him up close; his face covered in small freckles and a scar on his cheek. His plump lips wrapped around his cigarette. His big, brown eyes that look up at you, making you feel caught for looking.

“Puff on it,” Eddie says around his cigarette when you don’t do anything. Your brain kicks back on after not being able to compute the closeness and you start to puff on the stick, feeling the heat entering your mouth as the cigarette catches. Smoke billows from between your lips and you would think Eddie would take that as his cue to pull away. But he doesn’t. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke pour from his mouth barely a foot away from your face. You take a step back from him, starting to feel uneasy with how his proximity was making you feel.

“J-just give me the lighter next time,” you say, turning your head to blow the smoke from your mouth.

Eddie smiles at your words, finally straightening up and putting some distance between the two of you. You release the tension in your shoulders that you didn’t realize you were holding and bring the cigarette to your mouth to take a long drag from it.

“You have pretty eyes.” You look at Eddie with shock, not expecting him to say something like that to you.

“Don’t look at my eyes,” you say as you turn around, feeling a blush creeping up on your face. Eddie laughs, walking around you to be in front of you again. You turn once more, but he just follows you as you move. “Ugh, you are so annoying,” you say, stomping your foot in frustration.

“I’ve been told that before, too,” Eddie says with a laugh.

“Yes, there was a part that was supposed to be delivered to us yesterday, but we still have not received it?” 

It was another typical day in the office. A part not being delivered when promised. People dropping off their cars with complaints about noises from their engines or their heaters not working. The radio playing sappy love songs that drove you crazy with each passing second. Well, that was not typical, but your dad insisted on keeping the station on considering the special occasion.

It was valentines day.

“Okay, I’ll hold,” you say, letting out a sigh when you heard the sound of waiting music start playing. As you tapped the pen on your desk, you felt the cold rush of air coming in from the front door. Not bothering to look up, you tell them politely that you’ll be with them momentarily and continue waiting on the phone. It was only when your name was said that you finally looked up at the customer.

Only, it wasn’t a customer.

“Are you her?” The man asks. A sinking feeling fills you as you see he’s holding a bouquet of roses.

“Maybe,” you say slowly, still holding the phone to your ear as you stand.

“Well, these are for her. So if you could make sure she gets them, I’d appreciate it.” The man sets the glass down on the counter and turns around, heading out the door to leave, another cold gush of wind following behind him.

You’re left with the roses on your desk, staring you down. Picking them up, you bring them closer to examine them.

“Hello, are you still there?” The voice on the other line pulls you from your current predicament, leaving you to set the roses aside for later. They sat there, mocking you as you argued on the phone with the parts dealer about not meeting their deadline and putting your shop behind. But after sorting out the ordeal that was the missing part, your mind is immediately back on the flowers that taunted you during the duration of your call.

Maybe your dad got them for you? You don’t know why he would, knowing about your feelings towards the holiday, but you wouldn’t totally put it past him. Would it be weird to admit that you kind of enjoyed getting them? It goes against all your morals, hating the idea of love and all, but it was nice that someone thought of you. Oh god, are you smiling over flowers?

Grabbing the vase, you spin the flowers around to look at them closer. That’s when a little card catches your eye. You pluck it from it’s stand and read it over.

“Sorry they’re not sunflowers.

Love, Eddie”

“That son of a bitch,” you whisper to yourself. You immediately stand from your chair, taking the vase in your hand and march right out into the bay. “Eddie Munson!” You call out, loud enough to be heard over the music. The guys all stop what their doing and look at you, watching intently as you stomp your way over to where Eddie was working on a car that was up on the lift.

“Oh, hey,” he says when he notices you. 

“Don’t “hey” me,” you spit, stopping just short of him. “What the hell is this?” You shove the vase into his chest.

“I see you got my gift. Happy Valentine’s day, sweetheart.” He says with gooey sentiments.

“Have you not gathered that I don’t do Valentine’s day. Or love. Or any of this bullshit.” You continue to shove the flowers in his chest, but he doesn’t budge, simply shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You told me you like flowers. I told them to put on there my apologies for them not being sunflowers. Did they forget that?” He asks with genuine concern.

“No, it’s on there,” you say, relenting and pulling the flowers away from him.

“Oh, good. I asked them for sunflowers. But, like you mentioned, they are out of season.”

You huffed, wrapping your hands around the vase and look down at the flowers. Sure, they weren’t sunflowers, but Eddie did try to get them for you. Was it really such a bad thing for someone to do something nice for you? “You really asked them?” You say, not looking up at him.

“I did,” he says with a smile. “But,” he starts, taking a step towards you, “if you don’t want them, I’ll gladly take them back. Give them to someone else. I’m sure I can find someone out there who wants to be my valentine.” His hand reaches out for the flowers, but you snatch them away, turning your body from him.

“Like hell you will,” you say, taking a step back. You don’t miss the way Eddie lights up when you reject his offer, and it almost has you taking it back and telling him to shove them up his ass instead. But, you’d be damned if something that belonged to you was going to go to someone else. “You got these for me, so I’m keeping them.”

“I guess if that’s what you want,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“It is,” you say, clutching the flowers to your chest. “But, that doesn’t mean I’m your valentine. So don’t take it that way.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Eddie says before turning back to his car. You give him a hmpf before turning around to leave the bay. That’s when you notice all the eyes are on you. 

“What?” You call out, and the guys all go back to what they were working on before. 

tags:

@meetmeatyourworst @hazydespair @gloomweed @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @prestinalove @rowynbriarsalix

@daveythorntonslocker @losingmygrasponreality @princesssunderworld @eddiesguitarskills @clown420cunt

@barnesandsteven @yujyujj @person-005 @definitionwanderlust @hsdcmmjune @micheledawn1975 @emxxblog @l3xi3luv

@browneyes-8288 @djodirt @munsonsfairy @appl3ogr @sammybrrr @awkward00noodle @callhermyname @american-idiot-jpg

@g3n3zshack @coolkidzen @xlostitx @katethetank @kitkatq05 @animechick555 @munsonzgf @anonymouskiwi

@whisperingwillowxox @rizzraa @marvelcasey05 @melvin333 @morgan-the-freeman @bl0ssomanddie @molisighs

@blahox @punkprincess1999 @kelsiegrin @littlemissholy @tvserie-s-world @avalon-wolf

if you'd like to be added or removed please let me know!

[theemporium]

cuddling up with best friend nico while doing a christmas movie marathon. maybe leads to something more 👀

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“It’s a classic!” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s good.” 

Nico’s lips parted, his brows furrowing together a little as he watched you walk back in from the kitchen. “How can you hate Home Alone?” 

“I don’t hate it,” you corrected, rolling your eyes at his dramatics as you dropped into the seat next to him. “I just don’t think it’s the best Christmas movie.”

“So you hate it,” Nico retorted, not bothering to hide his grin as he reached for the bowl of popcorn in your hand, only to pout when you pulled it away. “Hey, that’s mean.”

“Don’t give me those sad cow eyes,” you murmured, already moving to lay the bowl on the couch between you whilst he pressed play on the movie. 

It was barely nine in the morning when Nico had messaged you to come over. It was a rare rest day in December with no practices for another two days. He had every reason to just laze about, let his body rest and enjoy the break before the next stint of games wrecked his body. And the rest day made it easy to slip in your annual tradition of a Christmas movie marathon. 

It started a few years ago, early in his career when Nico was still adjusting to life in North America and the various references that didn’t always travel across the ocean. It started off as an exchange, you showing him movies you considered classics whilst he did the same, and it sort of just stuck. 

“You’re hogging the snacks,” you grumbled as you tried to reach for the bag of chocolates in his hand but he held them away. “Now look who’s being mean.”

“You have your own,” he pointed out, waving halfheartedly at the mess on the table. Somewhere amongst the wrappers were a random pack of Hershey kisses you bought on your way over. You had barely eaten two before shoving the pack on the table. 

“Yeah but your fancy Swiss chocolate is nicer,” you all but whined, your head thrown back on the couch as you looked towards him. His parents tend to send a massive care package around the holidays and usually Nico was quite accommodating and willing to share.

“It is,” he nodded, grinning. “That’s why I have it.”

“Rude.”

“Come and get it if you want it so bad.” 

You stared at each other for a few moments before you moved, already sprawled halfway across his lap as you tried to reach for the bag of chocolates in his hand. Nico’s laugh was bright and boisterous as he wrapped one arm around your waist to try to hold you back, the other stretching out as far as he could. You tried wiggling closer, your legs almost straddling him but his arm kept you locked in place.

“I’ll stop if you share,” you told him, panting slightly as you looked down to find him already staring at you.

He swallowed harshly, his arm squeezing your waist tighter. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Almost subconsciously, your eyes dropped to his lips.

You opened your mouth, his name on the tip of your tongue but he swallowed the sound as he pressed his lips against yours, muffling whatever you were about to say. You sunk into the embrace embarrassingly quick, your hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled you closer.

“Gonna share now?” You questioned, breathless and whispered against his lips.

His lips twitched upwards before he leaned back in. “Maybe in a little bit.”

.

[hellincarnation]

Hello! This is a message to the anon who has been sending very haphazard, messy and increasingly nonsensical hate. They are pretty ew.

Not sure if cringe anon is the same as this one, but if you are, here’s a quick thingy. Sure, I’ve played with your message, adding humour as a lovely way of mockery to you. But there is a line to be drawn, I’m fine with you making snarky comments. I make snarky comments, but I draw the line when you start insulting whole groups of race. And….insulting us with the most generic types of comments.

Seriously?

That is the most ridiculous pseudo hate ever.

I’ll remind you that the term “asians” include Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Viet, Malaysian, Singaporean, Filipino, Indonesian, Saudi Arabian, Indian, Bhutanese, Pakistani, Lebanese and so many more groups of people.

You’re gonna have to be the most dumb, blind and ignorant piece of filth if you think all of those groups of people look the same. If you really believe that, you’re bigoted and ill informed.

Also. OF COURSE SOME GROUPS OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE A COMMON ANCESTOR LOOK THE SAME, OH MY GOD THE STUPIDITY!

And if you are part of Asia and you’re gonna whine like “I was just making a joke!” This is not a joke if it hurts people, yes this is a popularised statement but to many people, it is not funny. It is only a joke when EVERYONE is laughing. So shut up about that.

And then here

….that’s just so wrong.

First of all, I’m ethnically Chinese, which means my great grandparents originally came from china. I was not born on the mainland, nor was my parents, nor was my grandparents. And where I am currently living, consumption of dog meat is illegal. Even in China, the amount of dog meat consumption is drastically decreasing.

That is an old, outdated, stereotypical, insulting way to refer to Chinese people. Not only that!

You also might refer to people from Cambodia, India, Indonesia, Ghana, Laos, Vietnam, Nigeria and Switzerland. Unless you’re saying I’m from all of those countries, your statements makes no fucking sense.

I’ll wrap it up, in the end, I may laugh, joke around, make fun of such comments, but I draw the line when it could potentially hurt bigger groups of people.

My blog is a place to talk to my friends, I’ve made many good ones here, Mireya, Zahrawr, Tanaka, Jeah, Riyana, God, Tamanna, Etc

To all of you, I’m very grateful for getting to meet you.

To this Anonymous person: if you come out and say “oh it’s just a joke” or reveal that you are Asian too, shame on you. Out of all people, you should know how bigoted and disgusting those statements are. If you aren’t asian, even worse. You’re a stupid, ignorant and pathetic piece of shit who thinks it’s okay to send these types of messages. You disgust me.

Moving on, I will not tolerate any more of these types of posts, I will be deleting them on sight. I won’t be turning off anon, since there are lovely anons who like to send nice messages. But I will not be posting anymore of these stupid, idiotic and hateful comments, especially that could potentially hurt a large number of people.

Fuck off, leave all these people alone, leave me alone, this is not a joke, it’s not okay to be spout this bullshit so freely.

Update: I’ve blocked anon ;)))

If this turns out to be anyone I’ve tagged, I will be very very disappointed in you.

@jeahreading @tamanna-and-her-struggles @shinchansbitch @im-on-crack-send-help @iamgayforyourmom1510 @mentallyunstablequeen101 @momhwa117 @zeherili-ankhein @your-dazzling-sun @schrodinger-ka-billa @abyssmita @cafffeineconnoisseur @byproduct-of-hades @lotuseaterwhowistlesthedark @mireyaaaaaaaaa @circe-butbetter @mi-stress-of-chaos @lyrebirb @depressed-bi-twerking @hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe @lesbianpoetess @unhinged-as-hell @debacleofdaemons @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops @celesteablack @evry1h8s-me @transienctly-translucent @priimadonnna

[samantha80ssuperstar]

All About Me!!!

Hey guys!!! My name is Samantha but everyone calls me Sam or Sammy For short. & I have a lot of interests & Fun things I love to do. I love making Art, seeing the creation that comes from my heart, I love Dancing because it's my Passion, Sing ofc because that's what I Wanna do for the Future.

My Favorite Shows I like to Watch:

Adventure Time

Steven Universe/Steven Universe: The Movie

Regular Show

Powerpuff Girls

Courage The Cowardly Dog

Dexter's Laboratory

Total Drama

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic

Spongebob Squarepants

Invader Zim

Sanjay & Craig

Hazbin Hotel

Rick & Morty

Helluva Boss

Full House/ Fuller House

Jersey Shore

Family Matters

Everybody Hates Chris

The Amazing World Of Gumball

Teen Titans/ Teen Titans Go

Uncle Grandpa

Clarence

Stranger Things

What We Do In The Shadows

Victorious

That's So Raven

Sam & Cat

Sailor Moon

Dragon Ball Z

Spy X Family

Demon Slayer

Powerpuff Girls Z

My Hero Academia

Care Bears

Rainbow Brite

Reading Rainbow

Smurfs

Tom & Jerry (The Original Series)

Looney Tunes (The Original Series)

The Flintstones

Scooby Doo: Where Are You?

The Jetsons

Yogi Bear

Favorite Movies I Love Watching:

Wicked (2024)

Sonic The Hedgehog 1,2,3 (2020 ,2022, 2024)

M3GAN (2023)

Shrek 1, 2, 3, 4 (2001, 2004, 2007, 2010)

Puss In Boots (2012) Puss In Boots: The Last Wish (2022)

Madagascar (2005), Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa (2008) Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted (2012)

Legend (1985)

Big Trouble In Little China (1986)

Mannequin (1987)

Back To The Future (1985)

Flahsdance (1983)

Dirty Dancing (1987)

Mommie Dearest (1981)

Home Alone, Home Alone 2: Lost In New York (1990, 1992)

The Breakfast Cub (1985)

Pretty In Pink (1986)

Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

The Goonies (1985)

Ladyhawke (1986)

Stephen Kings IT (1990)

IT (2017) IT: Chapter II (2019)

Child's Play 1, 2, 3, 4 (1988, 1990, 1991, 1998)

Nightmare On Elm Street 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 (1984, 1985, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1991, 1994)

SCREAM 1,2,3,4,5,6 (1996, 1997, 2000, 2011, 2022, 2023)

The Last Dragon (1985)

The Karate Kid 1, 2, 3, 5 (1984, 1986, 1989, 2010)

How The Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring, The Two Towers, The Return Of The King (2001, 2002, 2003)

I, Robot (2004)

The Pirates Of The Caribbean: The Curse Of The Black Pearl

Maleficent (2014)

Honey, I Shrunk The Kids!!! (1989)

Things I Like To Do:

Drawing some Art

Listening to some 80s Freestyle, Hip-Hop, Bollywood, Rock, Reggaethon , Salsa, Brazilian Music

Hanging out with my Buddies Online

Dancing to Just Dance Videos or TikTok Videos

Going Out to Dinner or Special Places like Carowinds, Myrtle Beach

Having Movie Nights With My Mom

My Favorite Apps I Like Being On:

YouTube

TikTok

Discord

Tumblr

Favorite Foods:

Pizza

PB N J Sandwich

Spaghetti & Meatballs

Meatloaf

Macaroni & Cheese

Chicken & Nuggets & French Fries

Burger (With No Cheese)

Steak & Mash Potatoes

Chicken & Rice

Chocolate Cake

Chocolate Chip Cookies

Oreos

Chocolate Muffins

KitKats

M&Ms

Hershey's Milk Chocolate

Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

Chocolate Ice Cream

Favorite Singers/Rappers/Groups/Bands:

Michael Jackson

Madonna

Lionel Richie

Whitney Houston

George Michael

Lady Gaga

Rihanna

Ice Spice

Megan Thee Stallion

Gorillaz

Franz Ferdinand

Katy Perry

P!NK

Olivia Rodrigo

Taylor Swift

Bruno Mars

SZA

Adele

Ariana Grande

Cynthia Erivo

Billie Eilish

Brandy & Monica

TLC

Cyndi Lauper

Gloria Estefan

Laura Branigan

Missy Elliot

XXXtentacion

Post Malone

My Old Post Is @80ssuperstar Check It Out!!

My YouTube Page:

Here's a little of some Face Reveals: (P.S. Yes I made a Sonic The Hedgehog Drawing!)

For: @sugar-miss1 @franmxm16, @nicomxm23, @isrrael120, @siinhorhy, @nightmarereverie, @camilitamaellard, @pinkcandycatmakesart, @apollothedeity, @anifaz, @gootie, @orchestralauthor, @kiko2032, @tuxedocatfamily, @marcanimation, @charly235, @loudlyhappycupcake, @untitled14360, @sleepi-toasti, @br333, @nwn222, @moonlighteclipse17, @groovyathletefestivalegg, @cleislaspiderbat, @cariondrawing

[slippinninque]

🤭💗👀

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: none, fluff, maybe a weee but of cursing, Fontaine being down bad for his lady 😌, vibe-fic, may need some edits

Fontaine couldn’t help but to smile as he finally crossed the threshold to your home. He took a minute to breathe in the scent of rainfall mixing in with the incense you've left lit by the front door. When you failed to meet him at the door, he called out,

"Baby, baby…?”

He kicked off his shoes and pulled his hoodie over his head, hearing the sound of crashing waves before he saw it.

"In heeere!"

Whenever you called him with that sleepy-come hither, Fontaine picked up any money he had on the floor to come be up under you. Your off days were Fontaine’s off days. He went the rest of the way and there you were, right where he knew you’d be.

Resting on pillows and a few blankets, you were every bit of a comfortable piece of cake. Surrounded by your usual comforts of chocolate and popcorn, a book turned pages-down on your belly as a whale breached on the TV screen.

It looked like you hadn't moved an inch since your video called to him earlier, shyly asking if he wanted to come spend the day with you. Fontaine had already put his shoes on when he saw your name flash across his screen.

You reached leaned up to look up at Fontaine when he came around the back of the couch to look down at all of you. Sexy as hell, sitting there in your peace, it damned near made Fontaine hungry.

“Hi handsome...” Your lips pursed for kisses that he was already leaning down to dispense.

“Hey, titties—pretty! I mean-I meant--!”

Mouthed dropped open in shock, you gave him a delightedly scandalized look—a hand pressed lightly to your chest. Not enough to hide anything busting out of your cami, but enough to make your point.

Fontaine folded, hiding his burning face in one hand and supporting himself on back of the couch as your laugh bloomed out.

“Excuse me? Mr. Chamberlain?”

“I—I got a head of myself…”

“Oh, did you--

Fontaine interrupted you with a sweet, sound kiss, then continued,

“See, ‘cause I wasn’t suppose to lead with that--

“Right.”

Your kiss caught him off guard but he made a noise like he popped a Hershey. His eyes tracked down to your chest again,

“Meant to work up to that, see what I’m sayin’?”

“Oh, I see. Got a little a head of yourself?”

“Absolutely. Saw you and your ladies sittin’ there looking fine as shit...I’m only a man, baby.”

“You’re my man…”

“ ‘Sho is...”

By now, in between every word was a kiss. Deliciously slow. The two of you fit together like warm, sure hands. Fontaine hated missing you but there was nothing as refreshing as being rewrapped in you.

Fontaine wriggled over the edge of the couch as you giggled, pulling at him even though he was already easing down on top of you. Always so careful, always so gentle, as if he didn't regularly request for him to bend and break you.

His weight, his smell, the sound he made when your legs slotted together—you purred.

“My man, my man, my man is here!”

He laughed as he smelled a familiar fragrance of something that probably had something to do with your especially good mood. Fontaine settled down and surrendered to your reverse octopus hold.

Your hands found the back of his neck, scratching lightly and massaging at the skin there and his shoulders. Fontaine sighed and sank into your hold, resting his cheek onto your chest and nuzzling softly. The action rewarded him with a pleasing song of your body butter and detergent.

You're being so happy to see him made him feel special, like none other, like he could never go another day without seeing you first thing in the morning.

Maybe it was time for y'all to have matching keys to a place. Anyplace you wanted. If you wanted to swing from the canopies in the rainforest or dig out a home in the arctic snow--Fontaine would make it happen.

To the sound of your beating heart, the feel of your strong fingers working out kinks, and the warmth of your perfect titties--Fontaine blissfully thought of nothing else but being held by you.

--------

✨ending notes:✨ something that wouldn't get out of my head!!!! Work and life has been doing their thang but I'm grateful to be able to provide my scribbles when I can 💗💗💗Just needed to think of Fontaine's solid self getting some cuddles and, well, he told me how he felt 😌 tell me what you think!!! Comment and reblog and thank you for reading!!! ✨💖💖✨💖💖✨

💗Taglist:💗@megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15

@mcondance @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful

@8ttached@thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker

@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina @harmshake @notapradagurl7

[m0n5t3r-3n3rg7]

Mine ☹️

I eated chocolate

Nom nom

[iwanty0uu]

Man, Connie Springer is so obsessed with his girlfriend it’s not even funny..like he can’t keep his hands of you, especially if your chubby like he would constantly grab on your tummy when he stands behind you, and squeeze the back rolls that you hate but he loves, he can’t resist touchin up on your ass especially when you wear baggy jeans, you always felt comfy in them cus being suffocated by the “stretchy” denim that was always cut too small for your broad hips and thighs, and easily rubbed holes in between them was simply irritating. He loves the feeling of your boobs, you hate how they aren’t even in size but he loves them, not because he has to since you’re his girl, but he genuinely thinks your the best thing like..better than Jamaican food, (and you both love that shit) he loves suckin on em too. Your huge nipples always in his mouth, you always made fun of them and called them melted chocolate Hershey kisses but the way he sucked on them convinced you that they tasted the same..Don’t even get me started on your pussy, he loves the thick layer of fat on your labia that hid your pretty brown clit, he loves to see your acrylic nails spread your lips apart and toy with the bud, he loved to suck on it and watch it jiggle as it bounced back into it’s hiding spot after he let it go, he loved kissing on your cheeks….Both of em! You looked adorable with glasses on and he loved to smoosh them when you were asleep, and squeezes your lips while you drool on his shirt, girl at the end of the day, when the sun set and the moon come out n shit, you were his pretty princess pookie bear, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world.<3

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

…😝 didnt even mean to make it this long like i just aint wanna stop writing…anyways i missed my tonka butts hope ya like this lil sum sum! ~ ���ℯ𝓁ℯ<3

[alaskan-wallflower]

gang’s favorite cookies?

darry- he’s an oatmeal raisin kinda guy. sometimes if he makes them he’ll put chocolate chips in them tho cause he’s a chocolate fiend. he brings one to work/eats it in the car. it’s a treat

soda- snickerdoodles. he loves cinnamon-he absolutely adores is. there’s one bakery on the west side that makes them really good and sometimes darry will get a few just for soda

pony- he’s basic. chocolate chip. with extra chips. at some point it’s basically chocolate chip with a side of cookie dough, lmao

johnny-gingerbread. my man loves gingerbread. like he straight up will devour gingerbread houses by himself. the gang left him alone with the gingerbread houses they made from christmas and they were literally all gone. nobody knows how he did it.

dally: peanut butter cookies. he loves peanut butter, and the only time he can have it is at the curtises because buck is deathly allergic to nuts. it’s a treat for him.

two-bit- he’s the kind of guy to like those frosted cookies. the sugar cookies with the nasty ass frosting on them. i hate them personally-

steve: i dunno what they’re called but the half chocolate, half vanilla ones with the hershey kiss in they middle. those ones, lol-darry always makes sure to make them even tho steve’s like…the only one who likes them

[angesaurus]

If I doesn’t fit in the basket, they don’t get it kinda Easter around here 🐣

One way I’ve kept my 10 year old convinced that things like Santa and the Easter bunny is real (at least he still is pretending for his sister’s sake LOL) is by getting stuff that he knows I’d never buy - like those character juice bottles 😂 I always say no when they ask because I hate them he’s going to have his mind blown seeing one in the basket 😂 I’m not quite sure what the villains thing is, I think a keychain for their backpacks. Did a Disney theme of course!!! Got their favorite candies - hersheys chocolate, kisses, and kit kats. Also not pictured, the Disney pins they can either keep for their collection or use for trading when we go. I put them in the plastic eggs on the bottom, which I think will be a big surprise/hit. They also got a little pin folio pad to hold the pins they want to trade! Gavin got super into pin trading last year and of course Cecilia wants to be just like him.

[the-fab-fox]

I come bearing a request! If it doesn't make you uncomfortable — ignore this if it does — could you please write platonic headcanons or a oneshot about the Pomfiore trio helping yuu who's on her (or their) period and has cramps & is just feeling gross?

| Request Fill for Anonymous. To find out how to request your own, check out this post here. |

Absolutely, I can, my friend!

I enjoyed writing this so much. I love seeing these three and Yuu getting on so well in Book 6. It makes my heart so happy to see it.

So naturally, I wanted to include that same vibe with this one.

As a note, since I don't really mention it until further in the oneshot, this takes place during the SEC group preparing for the SDC.

I hope you enjoy, sweet anon! And if you feel up to it, in case you don't want to comment directly on the fill itself, feel free to shoot me a dm if you wanna let me know how you like it.

Thanks again for the adorable request!

—

Platonic F!Reader with Vil, Rook, and Epel.

[Fill under cut due to length.]

—

The Ramshackle Prefect watched the dancers closely. She smiled to herself with a soft chuckle. 

The chuckle quickly became a grimace as, yet again, her uterus decided to give her a swift horse kick back to reality. 

This sucks. I'm grateful that Sam had the things I needed but they don't really have anything like Tylenol or Ibuprofen here. 

Sam had given her a little protip though, before she had left his shop. 

“Talk to Professor Crewel about this.”

She did just that. 

Crewel had told her that he would make a potion which would likely act in the same manner as the medicines from her world but it would take two days. He frowned at her and snapped his riding crop in his hand. 

“In the future, you are to inform me at least four days before your cycle starts so you won't have to wait so long for relief from the cramps. Is that understood?”

She snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!”

Crewel smiled empathetically. “Good girl. You may go but before you do, here—”

He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out what looked like a Hershey bar. He passed it to her and she took it tentatively. After all, Crewel didn't seem like the type to give gifts or rewards to students. 

“It's chocolate. It won't do as much as the potion will but it is something that is already made so we'll take what we can get, won't we, pup?”

The otherworlder nodded and smiled. “Thank you for helping me with… all of this.” Out of nerves, she waved vaguely at the lower half of her body. “You and Sam have been so helpful and nice about it.”

Crewel nodded. “It's nothing. Especially since I know exactly how you feel.”

She tilted her head and frowned. 

What on earth did that mean? What was he—

Oh!

No way! 

Her eyes widened and she blurted out the question that immediately came to mind before she could stop herself. 

“Professor Crewel, did you just subtly slip in the fact that you're a transman?”

Crewel grinned. “Well spotted, Prefect. I swear, you have more intuition and common sense than most of the students at this school combined.”

She blushed at the compliment. She never had been good at accepting them. Most of the time, they made her uncomfortable. 

Even with how uncomfortable she was, the compliments still pleased her. In her mind, Crewel was one of the best teachers at the school. Even with his weird BDSM vibe he had going on with that ridiculous riding crop. 

Maybe she was being a little unfair. She just hated it when Crewel would appear by her and her friend’s desk and snap that thing. 

It wasn't her fault she was easily jump scared. 

She thanked him instead of commenting on the compliment—what would she even say to that?—and had taken her leave. 

Brought out of the memory but yet another sharp squeezing sensation, the Ramshackle Prefect let out a little whimper. 

Damnit. Why did I eat all that chocolate bar in one sitting? I'm sure Crewel wouldn't mind giving me another, if he even has one. And Sam should have them in stock. I should go after practice and grab one. 

Unfortunately, there was no telling how long practice would be. 

“Mademoiselle Trickster. Forgive me, but tu vas bien? Are you feeling alright?”

She blinked up at Rook. There was that sharp, observant gaze but just behind it, she saw genuine concern. 

She smiled. 

Well, she tried anyway before another cramp hit her. This one was more intense than the last as well. She could also feel the beginnings of a migraine and bemoaned her lack of the potion. 

“Ouch,” she groaned. 

“Rook! Why are you over here? You're supposed to be with the others, practicing.”

Rook didn't look chastised in the least. She had always found that pretty impressive. The fact that Vil could just bark his disappointment and Rook would apologize genuinely but that would be that. 

Unfortunately, she was nothing like Rook. Vil was also unfathomably beautiful, famous, snarky, and direct. Those combinations very often did not suit people like her. She was grateful, however, that Vil seemed to be an exception. 

Yeah, he could be harsh, but only when it was necessarily or well deserved. To her, Vil seemed more like a bossy but supportive big sister. She was just intimidated by the rest of him. 

“Oui,” Rook replied. “I simply came over because I could tell that our dear Trickster here is not feeling well.”

Vil turned those lavender eyes on her and she found she could not look away. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. 

“What's going on?”

The Ramshackle Prefect surprised herself as she suddenly burst into tears. 

Okay, it wasn't as dramatic as all that, but she did end up crying. 

“Prefect?” 

Vil's tone was still firm but had softened significantly. 

She sighed as she looked at him. “I'm sorry… I… well, I started my period and there's no medications here like back home that can help with it,” she said, her voice sounding whiny to her own ears. God, she hated how whiny her period made her. And how utterly disgusting she felt being a foot from Vil Schoenheit. 

She sucked in a breath, and continued. “Crewel is making a potion for me…he's so nice… he doesn't show it but he is. But he said it's going to take 2 days, maybe 3, before the potion will be ready. But the cramps are so bad and now my head is starting to hurt. It's definitely the beginning of a migraine.”

Vil was suddenly all action so fast that she felt a little lightheaded for a second or two. 

“Rook. Go to Sam’s and get anything you can think of that helps with a period. Then go get one of my silk pajama sets, a pair of my softest slippers, and my facial kit. Bring the lavender scented��no!—bring the ginger infused facial products. And a bit of our peppermint tea.”

Rook snapped to attention. “I won't be but a moment,” he assured them both before leaving quite dramatically. But that was normal for the odd third year. 

Vil looked at her before scanning the others practicing their dance moves into the mirror. 

“Epel!”

The periwinkle-haired first year glanced over in question. 

“Ah—yes, sir?”

“Please come here a moment.”

The Prefect watched as Epel did as ordered, coming to stand before them both. He glanced at her, obvious concern in his eyes now that he could see her up close. 

“Hey, what's wrong?”

She sighed and shook her head, no longer feeling emotional enough to blurt it out. She nodded instead at the silent question in Vil's eyes. 

“The Prefect is on her period. Unfortunately, she didn't think to bring this up with Crewel prior to getting it but it's understandable, considering everything she's gone through since her arrival. I'm assuming this is your first period since coming here?”

She grimaced and nodded. Back home, it wasn't often that she skipped periods. The times she did, however, were usually due to stress and the next one she did get was always worse. That was what was happening here, to the letter. 

She looked at Vil with surprise. It was her understanding that Vil had no siblings. He smiled at her surprise. 

“In my line of work, you get to know a great number of people. Many of them get periods. It's also imperative to familiarize oneself with others’ physiology and not just one's own when making potions.”

The Prefect just nodded her head. It made a lot of sense but she felt too exhausted to do anything more. 

Epel looked at her with sympathy. “What can I do to help?”

Vil smiled. “That's precisely why I called you over. Will you please tell the others that something has come up that couldn't be helped so the rest of practice is canceled.” He paused for a moment, considering the group. “Also inform them that I want them to practice their moves for an hour in front of a mirror tonight. Wait… Spudling 1 and 2 should do 2 hours. Then I'd like you and Grim to ask the chefs if they wouldn't mind making a simple chicken and noodle soup for her. You don't have to answer any questions. If they push, have them come talk to me. That should take care of things nicely.” He tilted his head imperiously. “Did you get all of that, baby spudling?”

He'd do well as an owl, she thought out of nowhere and was grateful that she hadn't voiced the thought aloud. 

“Whatda I lookit to ya—erk—I mean, yes, sir. The rest of practice is canceled, but they are to do 1 hour of practice back home. 2 for Ace and Deuce. Then I'm to go to the kitchens with Grim to get Chicken and Noodle soup for the Prefect.”

“Very good. Go on now.”

Epel hurried off. 

Vil smiled sympathetically at her now. She sighed her feelings on the whole matter. 

“Do not worry, my dear. We'll get you sorted. Tomorrow you will be off duty as well. If you would like, I can inform the Headmage that you will need to be out of classes as well due to being sick.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? You'd do that for me? They'll be okay with that?” 

In her experience, people with periods were generally just expected to get on with life despite the pain and feeling like complete garbage. Pick oneself up by the bootstraps, and all that.

Vil snorted. “They trust me. I've earned their respect and with good reason. They'll accept with no other details aside from being too sick to come.”

She was suddenly filled with the desperate urge to hug him. She was that thankful. Luckily, she was able to hold back. 

Tears began to creep at the corners of her eyes again and it was with a softer voice that she thanked him. 

“Think nothing of it, Prefect. While I am empathetic, especially with things that are unavoidable, I'm also thinking of the group and the SDC. With a period there's no way you wouldn't be distracted and understandably so, therefore it would be a waste of time to make you do your job when you feel as you do.” He smiled apologetically once more with a sigh. “Better to have you miss a couple days and come back to us fresh and rested than to make you suffer and possibly lengthen both the period as well as our training. You're also not one of the performers so it's not absolutely necessary for you to be at every practice. Preferable, definitely, but not necessary.”

She beamed at him. “You're a really good person Vil, I don't care what anybody else says.”

Vil raised a brow. “Oh? Well thank you, but let's not hurry away from the topic. What is it that others are saying?”

A confused expression crossed her face before she realized she'd used a joke phrase from her world. He, obviously, would have no idea what she was talking about. 

“Sorry… that's just a thing we say where I'm from. Basically, you're just saying it as a joke because no one is really, actually saying anything. It's just…” she waved her hand in frustration and sighed. “Is not important.”

“Don't talk like that, Prefect. What we have to say must always be treated as important. Why would we say it if it wasn't important to us? Besides, I understand what was meant from your explanation. I know well that not everyone is able to or even wishes to handle my intensity and dedication to putting forth one's best self at every opportunity.”

It was her turn to smile empathetically. 

“Their loss,” she said, meaning every bit of it. Vil smiled. 

“Thank you kindly, my dear. I don't need the reassurance but I'm happy to know that you think so. Furthermore, I agree completely.”

They both laughed softly and she felt a little better. 

The door opened and the miserable girl noticed the room was empty aside from Vil and herself, as well as Rook who had returned as promised. 

“How is our little Trickster?” He asked as he joined them, quickly pulling a table over before setting all the things he carried upon it. 

The Ramshackle first year rolled her eyes but it was in a fond manner. She had to admit that Rook’s odd tendencies were growing on her a little. He was weird as fuck but he was also a really good guy when it came down to it. 

Neither she nor Vil had a chance to answer as the door opened again. Epel came in, bearing a large bowl with a utensil sticking out. It was still steaming; the gentle clouds billowing behind Epel as he hurried to her as fast as he could without spilling any of it's contents.

The scent of the soup reached her nose not long after that and her stomach growled loudly. The others laughed as she blushed and covered her face with her hands. 

A bowl was now in her peripheral vision and she looked up at Epel with a smile of thanks. He smiled back at her as she took it, breathing in the steam with a happy sigh. 

“Your stomach growling as it did also suggests you have not been keeping hydrated. Be sure you're taking breaks throughout the day to drink plenty of water. Understand?”

The Ramshackle Prefect nodded. 

“Good. Now, the three of us are going to take care of you for a little while. That will relax your body and your nerves. It'll likely alleviate your migraine as well. The cramps should lessen for the evening, at the very least.”

“I took the liberty of getting a heating pad for you—non! I will not accept payment. This is a gift between friends.”

Vil nodded. “Likewise.”

“The same goes for me even though I'm not sure what I can do.”

Vil smiled at him. “I'll show you.”

The girl looked from Vil, to Epel, to Rook. Yet again, overcome with emotion, she felt tears rush to her eyes and she grumbled as she tried to brush them away. 

“Oh, you poor dear,” Vil said. His tone was the softest she ever heard it.

Then he did something that surprised her tears into stopping as if she was some protagonist in a shoujo anime. 

He hugged her, taking care not to spill the bowl still in her hands.

Vil Schoenheit had just hugged her. 

Was she dreaming? Had she passed out?

While she wasn't interested in him, at least not like that, he was famous and impossibly beautiful. Besides, she probably smelled. She really hoped she didn't smell. 

Vil didn't seem to mind it if she did at that moment though so she did the only thing she could think of…besides just standing there. 

She hugged him back, using one hand to carefully hold the bowl of still steaming soup.

That seemed to be the cue for Epel and Rook who hugged them both. 

The group hug went on for a few more moments before Vil pulled away, causing the other two to do so as well. 

“Alright! Eat your soup, my dear, and then the real work begins.” He smirked. “I finally have the perfect excuse to take care of those dreadful pores.”

The Prefect tried to fake glare at him, but in the end, she just chuckled and shrugged. 

“Thank you for this, you guys. It… it means a lot.”

Vil just shushed her. 

“Eat your soup, Stage Manager. My time is precious and, by now, you've learned well that I don't like to waste it.”

Smiling, the Ramshackle Prefect and temporary Stage Manager did as she was told.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hello!! I love your writing, and you seem like the coolest person ever btw. Hope you're doing well.

🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀🔀

🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊

I know this is quite a long ask, please take care, and thank you so much!!!!

THANK YOU! I am in fact not very cool, but I appreciate you saying so! Doing well other than being majorly snowed in. Hope you are, too!

96 for 🔀

---

They’ve been outside for hours when Evan starts to get a little tired. A little achy from all the running and tumbling in the deep snow. He knows he probably needs a break. A quick one. But he doesn’t want the fun to end, so he says nothing. He keeps playing. Keeps climbing the unsteady slope and launching himself headfirst down it again. 

Until he falls. 

It’s not that serious. Evan has always been clumsy. Or, at least, in his memory. His mother claims he was always coordinated until… Well, until he disappeared. Apparently, he came back clumsy. Anyway, point is, it’s not serious. Evan trips all the time. Except this time his foot slips, and a piece of the snow hill crumbles, and he cannot steady himself. So he tumbles sideways off the hill, and smacks his head hard off the fence on his way down. 

He wakes up hours later in the emergency room. He has a concussion and a wound on his head. A strange wound, he’ll later hear from Maddie. More like a burn than a goose egg or gash. He doesn’t understand what would cause a burn. It was a metal fence. It wasn’t even that cold outside. Just snowy. 

His parents are furious. They’re blaming Evan. They’re blaming Ethan’s father. They’re blaming the weather in Hershey. Evan got hurt. He had to go to the hospital, and they hate him for it. Sometimes he wonders if his dad is mad he got hurt, and his mother is mad he survived. 

Maddie sits with him in his room that evening, when he’s sore and tired and alone. She sits at his bedside and strokes his hair, comfortingly. It’s been a while since she’s been like this with him. He’s almost nine now. He’s not a little kid anymore. And he’s been… Angry a lot. More and more recently. He hasn’t been seeking out comfort, the way he used to.

“You feeling okay?” She asks quietly. 

“No,” he sniffs. “Not really.”

“Can I do anything?”

He shrugs. “I just… I didn’t mean to get hurt. I shouldn’t be in trouble for tripping.”

“I know,” Maddie says. “You know Dad, though. He’ll feel bad tomorrow. Take you out for hot chocolate or something.”

“Yeah,” Evan mumbles. That is always what happens. Mom screams. Dad joins in, but then feels guilty and buys him something. Every single time. 

“Hey, you know,” Maddie says. “When you were really little, sometimes you’d stay up crying, and I’d come into your room, and stand over your crib, and I’d sing to you. I had this album of oldies Dad loves memorized, and I’d sing as much of it as I could.”

“Really?” Evan asks. “I don’t remember.”

“You were so tiny,” Maddie says. 

“Can you do that now?” Evan asks, voice barely a whisper.

Maddie smiles warmly. 

“Of course I can,” she says. “Let’s see, though… It’s been a while.”

Evan closes his eyes as Maddie begins singing, allowing the sound of her voice to lull him to sleep, like it must have, years ago.

“All of me

Why not take all of me?

Can't you see

I'm no good without you?”

2025

i. 

Eddie wraps a protective arm around Christopher. Like Christopher is in danger. Like Buck might be something dangerous. 

Maybe he is. He doesn’t know. After all, he did kill Daniel. 

“Eddie,” Bobby says. “Shut the door.”

“What the hell is going on in here?” Eddie demands. 

“Shut the door,” Athena says. 

Christopher is gaping at Buck. His eyes flicker back and forth between the imposter cuffed to the bottom of the stairs, and Buck’s green self in the chair. Buck shrinks from him. He feels monstrous. 

“Wh-what…” Eddie stammers again.

---

96 for 🏔️

---

Eddie nods. “I get it. And that’s why you have to do whatever you think is right.”

“Yeah,” Buck sighs. “Guess I just want to make sure I thinking clearly before I make a choice.”

“Well, there’s no rush,” Eddie replies. 

“I guess there’s not,” Buck agrees. “We’ll see what she does.”

2028

i. 

It’s a messy year for Jaylin and Buck. Albeit, the sort of mess Eddie always suspected was coming. She petitions for a change to visitation. Buck counters with termination of her rights, considering by the time she petitions for a change to visitation, it’s been five months since she’s seen Arthur at all. Jaylin misses the court date. She’s given enough advance warning to make it work, but still, she misses it. Buck is awarded sole rights. 

It’s a strange sort of victory. It’s the right thing for Arthur. Eddie knows that in his bones. It doesn’t have to mean she never sees him again, but she’s proven she isn’t a good or reliable decision-maker. But it also feels like a loss. Like she stopped fighting for him. Even if Eddie wanted her to be gone. One day they’re going to have to explain that to him. 

A few weeks after the decision, Buck sits Eddie down after work with a serious look on his face. 

“Legally,” Buck says. “Artie only has one parent right now.”

Eddie nods. That had been the goal, after all.

“I need you to change that,” Buck says. “Would you adopt him? A step-parent adoption? Please.”

“Buck-”

“I need you to,” Buck continues, not giving Eddie a moment to respond. “I need him to have… I want him to always know he’s wanted. Plus, you are his father. And… And then there won’t ever be issues, right? She might have family out there, if something happened to me. I know you know what I’m talking about so please do it.”

“Buck,” Eddie says again. “Of course. Of course, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” Buck sighs.

“I was just going to say,” Eddie adds. “I know he’s almost seventeen, and it’s not as necessary, but we should ask Chris if he wants the same thing.”

Buck pauses. Then he smiles, wide and bright.

“Really?” He asks. 

“Really,” Eddie nods. “I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

Buck’s eyes get a little misty. “That would be such a fantastic honor.”

🗻

Christopher agrees. In fact, he enthusiastically agrees. 

“I think that just makes the most sense,” he says. “We’re a family.”

“We don’t need any adoptions to prove that, though,” Eddie cautions. “It’s a formality, not a requirement.”

“I know,” Chris says. “But it just feels right. Don’t you think?”

“I do,” Eddie agrees. 

“Me too,” Buck adds. 

Chris grins. “And then Artie will be my brother in every way that matters.”

Buck hugs him. “He already is.”

ii. 

By the time Artie turns three, Eddie is legally his father. It’s a better feeling than the termination of Jaylin’s parental rights. It’s a less complicated sort of happiness. Eddie has loved this little boy the vast majority of his life. He has done everything for him he would do for his own biological child. This is right. This is just. For Eddie and for Arthur. 

It’s also right and just for Buck and Chris. Because all the same things are true. The only difference is that, in the end, Shannon didn’t fail Chris. Not the way Jaylin has failed Artie. But in all the other ways, Chris and Buck deserve that same legal status. At least, Eddie thinks so. 

They have a dinner celebrating the two adoptions. Just their Los Angeles family is invited. Buck’s parents don’t really have much interest, and Eddie’s parents aren’t happy with the decision. Of course they aren’t. They still have one more year to try to snatch Chris away. Though, Eddie doesn’t worry about that anymore. He and Chris are in a great place, and even if Chris is mad at Eddie, he doesn’t think running away would be his solution again. Besides, Eddie has done a hell of a lot less self-sabotaging since he came out and got with Buck. 

Dinner goes great. Everyone is happy for them. Chris and Buck, sure, but mostly, Eddie and Artie. There’s a palpable sense of relief. 

---

96 for 🔼

---

He doesn’t feel real anymore. Why should he? His whole life has been a lie. Everything he thought he knew about himself, his family… And Maddie kept it all from him. Everything is wrong and broken and the joke is on Buck, because he’s the one who didn’t know. 

“Buck?” Eddie finds him first, just standing in the doorway, frozen. “Oh my god, what happened?” 

“I…” Buck swallows. “Uh…”

Shannon walks into view. “Buck? Are you okay?”

“No,” he mutters. “No, I’m not.”

“What happened?” Eddie asks again. 

“I-I think I killed my brother,” Buck says. 

Shannon’s face drops. Eddie just looks confused.

“You don’t have a brother,” Eddie says. 

“Because… Because I… Because he died,” Buck stammers. 

“And you had no idea?” Shannon asks gently. “That you even had a brother?”

Buck shakes his head. 

“Christ,” Eddie whispers.

“Okay, come sit down,” Shannon says. “Tell us everything. Alcohol or water?”

“Alcohol,” Buck says. 

Healthy? No. Able to hopefully take the edge off of this absolute mindfuck of a betrayal? Hopefully. 

“I’ll grab beers,” Eddie says, turning back to the kitchen.

Shannon grabs Buck’s hand and leads him to the couch. She sits beside him, rubs his arm soothingly. His body wants to lean into the comfort. His brain isn’t sure he deserves to. 

“Okay,” Shannon says when Eddie returns with drinks. “Tell us what happened.”

So he does. He tells them everything Maddie told him. He tells them about Daniel, and the leukemia, and how having Buck was their only shot. He tells them about the failed bone marrow transplant. About how they packed up and moved to Hershey and never spoke about anything again. He tells them that, and then everything else just sort of spills out. The way they treated him. The way they never loved him. Never even looked at him unless he was hurting, so he made sure he got hurt. How their rage was better than their silence. 

Eventually, he’s crying. He’s blubbering. He’s not making a lot of sense and he knows it. It hardly seems to matter. Eddie and Shannon seem to understand him just fine. 

Shannon is holding onto him. Running her fingers through his hair, like he’s just a kid. He leans against her. He feels shaky. 

“You didn’t kill your brother,” Eddie says, softly but firmly. 

“Eddie-”

“You didn’t,” Eddie says. “This is not your failure. It’s just a tragedy. And I know you wouldn’t blame any other child or baby for a medical procedure that went wrong. I know you wouldn’t.”

That’s true. He wouldn’t. He tries to think of Jane and Chris in those positions. He’d never blame Jane for Christopher’s medical emergency, if her blood or bone marrow couldn’t save him. If Buck needed a kidney and Maddie couldn’t give him one, he wouldn’t blame her. That’s just… That’s just life. 

But his parents blamed him. They must have. If they didn’t, in some way, blame him, why did they hate him? He was just a little kid. 

“They think I did,” Buck whispers. “Not Maddie, but… But my parents.”

“Buck,” Shannon says. “I don’t think they think it’s your fault. But sometimes, when really bad stuff happens to our kids, the way we think doesn’t match the way we feel.”

He stares at her. She’s speaking from experience. He can tell. But he doesn’t quite know why. Chris and Jane are alive. They’re healthy and happy. 

---

96 for 🥊

---

This seems to snap Christopher out of his panic, if only for a second.

“Jell-O?” He repeats. 

“I know,” Eddie smiles. “It sounds silly. But trust me, it helps.”

“Okay,” Chris responds shakily. 

Eddie walks him through it. The whole process. He already knows that Christopher’s favorite flavor of Jell-O is raspberry, so he doesn’t bother asking. By the end of it, Christopher is calm. Breathing steadily. The redness has started to fade from his cheeks. 

“Feeling better?” Eddie asks.

Chris nods. 

It occurs to Eddie that, for the past few minutes, he’d nearly forgotten. He’d forgotten that it’s been months since they’ve seen each other in person. That all he’s wanted, every day, for all those months, was to be near Chris again. He’s dying to hug him. He’s missed him so much. But all he can do, right now, is sit and wait this out with him. 

“Has this happened before?” Eddie asks quietly.

Christopher shakes his head. 

Alright, well at least that’s good. He hasn’t been suffering from these in silence for months. That would have… Well, Eddie doesn’t know what he’d do with that information. It’s breaking his heart enough to know that he’s passed this down already. Maybe, anyway. Is this nature or circumstance? Eddie doesn’t know. Either way, it’s his fault. 

“Okay,” Eddie says. “I know it’s really scary when it happens. Especially the first time.”

Christopher nods. 

Okay, the nonverbal responses are starting to concern Eddie. It’s starting to feel like… Like when he left. 

“I don’t know if you remember,” Eddie tries. “But you were there. The first time it happened to me, you were there.”

Christopher's eyes flicker, searching his memories.

“At the store,” he mumbles. “With Ana.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. 

“Do I have to go to the hospital?” Chris asks.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “If it happens a lot, we can go to a doctor. Talk about it. But you’re safe.”

Christopher nods. 

“Will you tell me?” Eddie asks. “If it happens again?”

Chris looks at him. Meets his eyes for the first time. Like this question has reminded him of why Eddie is here. Of what has happened. That he’s coming home. 

“I guess I should pack,” Christopher says instead of answering.

“Chris…”

“Can you give me, like, thirty minutes?” Chris asks. “I did most of it last night.”

Eddie looks around the room. There are packed bags. His parents didn’t even help?

“Uh, do you need any help?” Eddie asks. 

“No,” Chris says. “Just carrying it out, later.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods. “Alright, uh… I’ll wait.”

“Thanks,” Chris mutters. He looks down, avoids Eddie’s eyes. 

So, after months apart, Eddie turns around and leaves his son alone. 

🟨

Chris packs the rest of his stuff more slowly than he could, strictly speaking. Though, that tactic might not work with Dad. His grandparents never question it, though. He’s been doing it a lot lately. Moving slower than he can to avoid things. Seeing them. Speaking to them. Doing the things they ask him to do. It’s shitty, he knows that. But sometimes, it feels like all he can do. That or snap, like he did at school. And look where that’s gotten him?

He can’t delay forever, though. He’s already done that, hasn’t he? He delayed having to deal with what Dad did with that woman by coming here. 

[evelyns-envy]

Hi, how are you? <3. Could you do a Matt Sturniolo story about period comfort? I know it's not that original but I'm in that period of the month with terrible cramps 😭🔫.

But seriously, I really love your writing <<33

YES YES YES OFC AND TYSM FOR THE REQ!!! chat guess what its my birthday :)!!!

✎ i thought this would be appropriate to write after the period cramp simulator vid!!

warnings!! - absolute fluff, fuck my dr pepper js spilled- matt being a sweet lil angel and getting you litro whatever you need!!, sexual jokes, short as hell sorry lmao

this man is addicted to tiktok and knows damn well what to do.

knows to get you chocolate, a heating pad, and plenty of medicine.

you ask him to go grab some pads/ tampons fom the store and boy is confused as hell

has a general understanding of a pad but entirely cannot grasp that a tampon goes up there lmfao

"matt i do not have time to explain this to you- God is trying to rip my boy in half."

"shit yea okay- uh.. what size is your pussy..?"

matt what the fuck.

has no idea about the severity of period mood swings and is now wholly confused about why you're crying and repeating over and over to go get the damn pads/tampons

"sweetheart- 'm sorry.. hey. c'mere. uh- chocolate?"

pulls you into his arms and holds up a bar of Hershey's, trying so hard to remain calm lol

he grew up with three brothers, he is not the most knowledgeable on this subject but he's trying

ends up going to get the supplies, with you insisting that he get the "heavy flow" ones.

"flow.. like a waterfall,-?"

"MATT."

"yep yep sorry leaving love you so muc-"

he calls behind him as he snatches the car keys off his nightstand and practically sprints out the door with a quick "be back later!" to his brothers

"have you taken any meds yet?"

"no- if i move the cramps get worse."

"wow- mother nature hates your ass."

"FUCK YOU. where are the damn pads/tampons??"

"right here snarky pants, calm your tits."

"never say that again."

"i can calm them for yo-"

"no."

you grab the box from his hand and groan as you sit up off the bed, clutching your stomach as you make your way to the bathroom groggily.

matt smiles softly at your quick response, kissing your forehead before you can manage to playfully shove him away.

"i love you, dumbass. i'll have some meds ready for you to take when you're done."

(matt's a sweetheart, but kinda a pain in the ass lmao. GUYSSSS DROPS SOME REQS/IDEAS PLEASEE or comments i LIVE for interaction!!)