#i told you i'd be back by tuesday
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roseymoseyberry · 2 years ago
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Today is really one of those days where I'm being reminded of all the things and people I like at my job left and right. There are such good people here, and they like and appreciate me so much, which SUCKS because my department is run like SHIT and I gotta dip for my sanity
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icantalk710 · 3 months ago
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📱😪
#well glad i finally stopped overthinking for three days and sent the damn text#i get if things are super hectic with work and everything immediate i do--but if we've still been feeling each other we'd still find a way#to connect?#i thought dinner with him went well a few weeks back--and would've gone better at mine if not for shitty super (big stressor) halfassing a#roof leak repair job in his closet making him have to go handle that after it rained a little during dinner#but we kissed goodbye saying we'd hang labor day and i told him to text me once home or about how the leak goes and he never did#but okay things were stressy and he forgot no worries#labor day came and i followed up day of not having heard from him and did an afternoon in the park after not hearing back#he apologized the next day saying he was going through a lot and i understood and said i'd still like to help take his mind off things--nada#he works weekends so i sent him a doggo video on IG to help some and checked in the next Monday asking if we did still want to hang again#and that i'd missed him--he apologized last Tuesday saying work was chaos and that he was two-weeksing his part time job#i understood and asked what he planned on doing from there to have us talking--nothing#but he did see the doggo video finally and said 'thanks for the doggo c:'#i did also have a free evening on thurs from a day off with mom so i low-presh said 'hey if you wanna hang?' and nothing#last thing was i asked on Sunday how his week was going and nothing#what confused me is that through all this he would still pop into my IG stories and like things which makes me think 'interest'#but i'd low-pressure like or comment a thing on his and i wouldnt get anything#and also still kinda seeing him on the site we met on with a guy leaving him a bj review a few weeks ago... which#it's fine it's been two dates so sure--but i'm also v much wanting to do things with him too and i'm kinda right there??#so all this to say that i felt like i had to just see if we are doing okay given it's been hard to tell#...but i did so much overthinking on how to phrase it the past 2-3 days before finally sending it#saying that if we are i'd like us to connect a bit more and that maybe Snapchat could help with that#[we probably should've traded SCs already 🥲]#anyway we'll see how that goes but idk as much as i've liked our chemistry i kinda feel like--to quote The Drums' 626 Bedford Ave--#i dont get near what i've been givin'#(space considerations for the hecticness aside ofc#so if we can communicate a bit better that'd be nice but could also gear toward an end so we'll see with the ball in his court#anyway thanks for reading that pre-bed vent#you're now imagining a corgi about to go paddling on a boat as a treat :)#🥱
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sbnkalny · 6 months ago
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Okay, I'm bored. So yeah, experiencing things is not smart but frankly, i don't care, I'm bored. anyways, I actually have Zero time for humans. if I’m deprived i go into your oribusses.
raakcult
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cjlouwho · 3 months ago
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Prompt: I've been thinking about a mixture of posts on here and I'd really love Tommy going to talk to Eddie because, maybe Eddie isn't being a great friend? I've read some people think Eddie would fall in line with Gerrard (due to being in the army etc.) and I'd love to see a Tommy/Eddie argument!
When Eddie got a knock on his door at 9pm on a Tuesday, he wasn't sure who to expect. He hadn't gotten a call or text from anyone, and he hadn't ordered any food. He figured he'd be arguing with Jehovah's Witnesses, asking them why the hell they were knocking on his door so late? Usually he'd avoid them altogether, but a little piece of him felt like arguing, so he swung the door open with a dramatic sigh.
He was surprised to see Tommy on the other side of the door, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock again.
“Oh. Hey, Tommy. I wasn't expecting you, was I?”
“Um, no. Can I come in for a sec?”
“Sure.” Eddie moved out of the way so Tommy could come inside, closing the door behind him. “Want a beer or something?”
“No, I really can't stay long. I'm heading to Evan's after this.”
Right. Buck. He should've known he'd be getting a visit from Tommy. Buck hadn't exactly left work, or Eddie, on good terms two days ago. Things had been tense for a few weeks now, actually. Everything had slowly been bubbling up until Buck finally burst under the pressure and was sent home early for insubordination. He'd actually been told not to return until he could learn proper chain of command, and if he couldn't learn within a week, he should start searching for a new career path.
“Is Buck the one who sent you?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Tommy shook his head. “No. No one sent me.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “So you're not here to kick my ass?”
“Should I be?”
“I don't know,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't know what you've been told.”
It was kind of a ridiculous sight right now, if you asked Eddie. Two grown men, friends for months now, standing awkwardly in his living room. Neither making any effort to sit or get more comfortable.
“Evan's been having a rough time with Gerrard,” Tommy started. “Sounds like he's Gerrard's main target.”
Eddie shrugged. “Gerrard likes to push buttons. Buck's buttons are easy to push.”
“Last week he asked Evan if he'd like a bra to go with the apron he wore while cooking.” Tommy tensed even as he spoke the words. “That doesn't just sound like pressing buttons to me.”
“He's a wannabe drill sergeant pissed about the fact he never made it through basic training. You do what he says, keep quiet, use your manners, and make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. That's how you get through a shift.” Eddie moved to sit on the couch, but Tommy remained standing. “You know how this works the same as I do,” he added.
“Yeah, I do,” Tommy agreed, although his voice was a bit more commanding now. “Probably better than you do, actually. Doesn't make it okay.”
Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you here, Tommy? I'm tired.”
“To try and stop you from becoming me, you idiot. I've been where you are. I've sat beside Gerrard and watched him treat person after person like nothing but garbage. I kept quiet, I made him feel important, I followed behind him like I was his damn puppy dog. I called him sir, I did whatever he asked, I laughed along with his jokes. You know what that made me?”
Eddie was starting to get annoyed. “What?”
“Him. I was no better than him.”
Eddie's eyes darkened. He stood back up, taking a step toward Tommy. “Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of crap?”
“If the mustache fits.”
“You need to get out of my house now,” Eddie warned. He could feel his body filling with the same boiling rage that got him thrown in jail a few years ago. He didn't need that to happen again.
“You repeat to me what Gerrard told Evan two days ago and I'll go,” Tommy offered. “Tell me what Gerrard said that finally made him explode and I'll leave.”
“Or I can call the cops on you for trespassing,” Eddie replied, moving to the door and opening it.
Tommy made no effort to leave. “Go for it.”
They stared at each other for a moment, Eddie's chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. When Eddie realized Tommy was never going to back down, his shoulders slumped. “Come on, Man, just leave.”
Tommy doubled down. “Tell me what he said,” he demanded, speaking each work slowly and carefully.
“H- He... God, Tommy.” He looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact as he recalled the event. “Buck fell while we were at a scene, bruised his tailbone. When we were sitting down to eat, Buck moved slow. He winced when he finally got seated... Gerrard saw and said th- that maybe if he... if he spent less time taking and more time giving he wouldn't have so much trouble.”
“But,” Tommy beckoned for him to continue.
Eddie took a deep breath. “But he should have expected Buck to be the woman.”
Tommy nodded. “There it is.”
“Listen, Tommy, I-”
“He could've really used someone sticking up for him. One person to step in and tell Gerrard he'd crossed a line. I get that Hen can't do anything right now. She can't risk not getting Mara back. And I know Howie can't do anything to lose Mara. But you could have said something, Eddie. You could have been there for him, but you weren't.”
And there was the anger again. “Why the hell is it on me?!” he exclaimed. “I've been going through my own crap, and it's not like you or Buck have really been around to help me out.”
“Oh, you cannot be serious right now.” Tommy's posture straightened, his body somehow becoming even wider and taller. It would have caused Eddie to pause and think about what was about to come out of his mouth if he wasn't so mad.
“Yeah, I am serious. I've needed people too, Tommy, but you guys have been too busy with each other to even notice.”
“You made the mess you're in right now, Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “You did that! You screwed up and it's on you to fix it! But Evan didn't do anything wrong. He sure as hell didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and now his job is on the line because you decided keeping the peace with a piece of scum like Gerrard was more important than speaking up for your supposed best friend. So, yeah, that's on you!” Tommy began to make his way to the door, ready to push past Eddie on his way, but Eddie wasn't finished.
“Hey!” He yelled, shoving Tommy back so he couldn't leave. “I've been trying to fix everything on my own! Trying to get my own life back! Hell, I just got to talk to my kid for the first time in over a month!”
“And who you think got Christopher to answer the damn phone?!”
It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Eddie's lungs. He stood there, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the right words to speak. “I... Buck's been talking to Christopher?”
“Every day,” Tommy confirmed. “He calls or texts. Facetime's him every once in a while too. He's been telling Chris how you're doing, trying to get him to call you or text you. He even suggested writing you a letter.”
“I didn't know that.”
“He didn't really want you to. Christopher had promised him the next time you tried to call, he'd answer. Evan's been like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited for you to tell him how it went after you two talked.”
Eddie didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry anymore, just incredibly disappointed with himself.
“He's always had your back, Eddie,” Tommy said, making his way out the door. Eddie didn't stop him this time. “It'd be really nice if you had his.”
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egg-but-with-style · 6 months ago
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Butcher ghost 2, electric boogalo
Tw: definitely ooc
1 2 3
You were panicking at the moment, standing outside his shops door. Holding day old chicken spadini in your hands. You threw in some fettuccine alfredo that you had made too.
You had texted him yesterday night, after you left your parents house, waiting until you got home to decide if you wanted to talk to him or not. Of course you did, he was handsome, or atleast his eyes looked handsome. Or maybe you just had a thing for guys with huge arms and a small penchant for violence.
When you had texted him, he seemed so dry. Only a couple word responses, then he told you to meet him inside his shop, said Tuesdays were always slow. In the back of your head, there was a little common sense. 'What if he's actually a serial killer? How do you know he isn't a creep?' which were questions you should've probably taken more seriously, but the knife and taser in your purse gave you reassurance.
You finally, having some courage, pulled open the door and went in. He seemed alot less focused today, like he was waiting for something. You watched his head snap up once the door closed, it letting out a slight creak.
He was surprised when you actually texted him, he was speechless when you agreed to come back to the shop, and now that it was all real, you standing in front of the counter, it made his jaw hit the floor.
He wasn't good at romance, or first impressions, or flirting. But he liked what he saw, he liked what he heard. He also might've stalked your socials after you told him your name over text. Only to check if you had a partner, definitely only that.
You saw him looked a little surprised, but the mask definitely blocked most of the facial expressions you would've seen, which he was thankful for. You spoke up, "Hi, Simon. I um.. bought the chicken..oh and I put some pasta in there too, figured chicken wasn't a balanced meal on its own and all that." You walked over to the counter and set down the Tupperware container. He spoke, his voice a little less rough today for some reason. "Mum used to tell me I couldn't just eat meat, now I run a butcher shop"
You let out a giggle. Your round cheeks becoming almost circles as you smiled. He felt his face heating up behind his mask, which was already so humid. He swore if he looked in a mirror now, he'd see his pupils being about the size of a saucer. He cleared his throat, trying not to feel embarrassed.
"It..it looks good though."
He hadn't eaten for the last 5 hours just because he wanted to be able to eat whatever you gave him. (Including dessert, if you catch my drift) Which you seemed to give him an ample portion, he was a big guy after all.
You thought he seemed a tiny bit nervous. Was it..you that was making him nervous? You shook off the idea, maybe he was just a little jumpy specifically on Tuesdays.
"Do..do you want to try some? I heated it up before I drove here. Even though you probably have a microwave.."
You realized maybe it was kind of a stupid idea to heat it up for him, but you had been so worried he might not have liked it. So you just wanted him to eat it as soon as possible. Not wanting to deal with the fear.
"No, no that's fine. I'd have to run all the way upstairs to my flat to heat it up anyway."
You watched him slowly open the container and pull up his mask just slightly to get the smell in. It seemed like his shoulders physically relaxed once he got a good sniff in. It was kinda cute.
"Do..do you want me to look away or?"
You weren't sure if the mask was just for protection, or if he just didn't like people seeing his face. He looked at you and seemed a little stunned that you asked. He slowly shook his head. "It's alright."
He hoped you wouldn't judge him because of his face, of all the scars, from acne and otherwise, not to mention the nose that had clearly been broken before, but when he pulled down the mask fully, you swore you were seeing something carved from marble.
His nose was crooked, a few scars lining the philtrum and the bridge. Then to his lips, the top one have a scar through the left side and slightly cleft because of it. His jaw and chin were just as impressive, being a bit soft, but still so pretty.
"You're beautiful.." you quickly covered your mouth, looking embarrassed for even saying that. "I..I'm so sorry! I didn't, I wasn't thinking.." Oh you were thinking, you were just thinking about how handsome he was.
That's when you saw his face turn a bit red. "Its..it's no problem. Don't worry about it" He looked away for a second, coughing and then looking back to you. Trying to play off the blush finding it's way to his ears.
He picked up a fork he brought down here specifically for the chicken you were bringing him. He felt kind of like a dork, but all that was forgotten when he took a bite of the chicken. He even let out a little groan. The seasoning, the flavor from the overnight marination in the sauces. He felt like he was in heaven, he looked like he was too.
Once he chewed and swallowed, he spoke up. "This is really fucking good." He really wanted to scarf it down right in front of you, but he already felt embarrassed and vulnerable enough, so he closed the container, to his own dismay. "I'll eat the rest of it once I close down shop. I..I wanted to ask you something"
You had been staring in awe at his reaction to your cooking, snapping out of it once he addressed you directly. You had a feeling what he was gonna ask, you just hoped you were right. "What did you wanna ask me?"
He blurted it out, hoping if he said it fast enough you'd just say yes. "Do you wanna go on a date with me?" Was it a little werid to ask the lady he just met yesterday out on a date? Yes. Yes it was. But he could care less. He knew he couldn't charm you the normal way, so it was a Hail Mary.
You heart fluttered a little, hearing the words come from his lips. "YES! I..I mean sure. Yeah, totally." You really didn't mean to yell but who gets the chance to go on a date with a beefcake like him everyday?
Your enthusiastic reply made his lips quirk up into a small smile. He was glad you were just as nervous, terrified, and frankly down bad as he was.
While you were indeed as taken as him as he was with you, you were still a woman and wanted to meet in a public place. You had some common sense left. "How does coffee on Saturday sound? Or..or tea if you don't like coffee.." He in fact did not like coffee. His smile got a little wider and he nodded. "Sounds like a date."
Authors note: In my au, I don't think ghost joined the military, but I do think he did some boxing in his teens and early 20s, definitely getting roughed up alot. I'm not sure if I'm happy with how I wrote this, so who knows I might rewrite it in the future.
I also wanted to thank you guys for 300 some notes on the first part of this! I'm really new to writing, and I'm glad you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy making it. Also, I'm a dork and a goofy ghost believer, so deal! Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it!
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annabelle--cane · 3 months ago
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so imagine you're me. and you go to university. and on tuesday the twenty-fourth of september at around 11am you get an email saying that you have a package to pick up at your dorm area's mail desk (let's call this desk A). and you think "hmm, that's weird" because you did not order anything and currently only two people have your exact address and they also didn't send you anything. so your immediate thought is "maybe this is Stalker Dad" because Stalker Dad has a history of finding out the addresses of where you live and sending you things. and you think "hhhhhhh. hopefully it's at least something fun like a chocolate box or whatever."
so you go about the rest of your day and then go to the mail desk at around 8:30pm. and the guy at the desk says there are actually TWO packages. one is a vote by mail application, and that makes sense, it has clearly been redirected from one of your old campus addresses, he gives it to you, that's fine. the other was accidentally sent to the wrong desk (let's call this desk B) in a building that's half a mile away. the guy at the desk says you can either go get it now or wait the four days it'll take to get redirected back to desk A. you want to get this done now and you're also maybe a little bit obsessed with finding out what the damn package actually is. you go to desk B, you scan your ID card, the guy at the desk looks for your package, comes back, reviews something on his computer, and says they actually already sent it back to desk A, and you can either wait for an email alerting you that it's arrived or just check back in four days.
four days pass. it is now friday the twenty-seventh. you go back to desk A. you scan your ID card. the girl at the desk says "ah, sorry, it looks like your package got rerouted to desk B, you can go pick it up from there if you want." you say yes. I know it got rerouted to desk B. they told me a few days ago that they had already sent it. the girl at the desk says "hmm. it might need another day, I'd say to wait to get an email about it."
a calendar week passes. it is now friday the fourth of october. you have received no email about the mystery package. you go back to desk A, you scan your card, the girl at the desk says "ah, sorry, it's at desk B, it will take a few days to get rerouted." you inform her of the last two weeks' events and she says "oh I'm so sorry it should not be taking this long, some weird glitch must have happened." she tells you that the rerouted packages from the last week were all delivered that morning and yours was not among them, your package was logged at desk B as being medium sized so it can't have been some error where they counted the vote by mail application twice, and that it didn't scan right at desk B so they don't even know which mail carrying service delivered it, and knowing that would have at least given you a vague clue as to the contents. she tells you your best shot is to go check desk B again.
so you go about the rest of your day and then go to desk B at around 5:30pm. you scan your ID card, the girls at the desk say there was a package but they sent it on to desk A. you say "well here's the thing--" and tell all. they say "what the fuck." all four of them crowd around a single computer screen to figure out what the hell is going on. one of them goes into the mail room to physically look but comes back empty handed. "the thing is," they say, "is that if there were two packages then you should have gotten two emails, you're sure you only got one?" you're definitely sure, and there are definitely two packages logged on their side. they don't know how this could have happened. they say the last thing recorded is that after spending too long in the system without being picked up, it got sent to the main desk of your campus (let's call this desk C), and that usually means that it then got returned to sender from there.
you go back to your dorm room. you decide to make one last attempt. you call desk C, because it is a mile away and you cannot be bothered to physically go there unless you know you will return victorious. the guy on the phone has you hold while he searches up your name for a suspiciously long time, and then he says that yes, there were two packages, and they entered the system ten days ago, and one got sent on there and then returned to sender. he then says that a third package was registered at desk B earlier that day, but then adds that that was just the mystery package getting pinged again for some reason and nothing is actually there. you end the call.
your mystery delivery existed, at no point was it possible for you to pick it up, it never got scanned correctly, and it is now Gone Forever. no one on da planet earth knows what this thing was. you don't even know if it was actually from Stalker Dad or something much, much weirder. you immediately burst into flames and die.
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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago
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no more waiting
for @steddielovemonth day four prompt ‘love is being willing to wait for them’
a fix-it for these: steve pov | eddie pov  
rated m | 1,094 words | cw: post breakup, implied sexual content | tags: getting back together, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining
🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶
Steve should’ve called him Tuesday when the news broke.
And then he should’ve called him Wednesday when he ran into Wayne at the store and he said Eddie was coming home for a bit.
By the time Thursday afternoon came around, he didn’t need to call him. He was standing at Steve’s front door.
“Eddie.”
“Steve.”
It was stilted, more awkward than they’d ever been, even when they “broke up.”
“You just get into town?” Steve asked as if he didn’t know.
“Yeah,” Eddie answered as if he didn’t already find out that Wayne had told Steve his exact travel plans.
“You wanna come in?” Steve asked like he’d die if Eddie said no.
“Yeah, please.” Eddie replied, just short of begging.
Eddie knew where to go, knew how to act like this was his home just like he had for nearly a year before leaving. Before Steve insisted he leave.
He settled on the couch, leaving room for Steve to sit close, but not touching.
Touching would be too much, too painful.
“You saw?” He finally asked, picking at the hole in his jeans.
“Yeah.” Steve reached over to pull Eddie’s fingers away from the string hanging off his pants. He didn’t let go as he spoke. “I’m proud of you.”
Eddie’s eyes bounced between his own, searching for the hint of a lie, jealousy, anything that might give him an excuse to stay away. But as he expected, as he hoped, none of that was in Steve’s eyes.
“It doesn’t mean shit to me,” Eddie admitted.
Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion, his body tensing at the unexpected hostility in Eddie’s tone.
“None of it means a fucking thing to me without you.”
“Eds-“
“I know what we said, I know. But I can’t do it anymore. The first person I wanted to call was you. The first thing I wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress of my bunk on the bus. There’s no world where I can be a rock star without you standing there with me.” Eddie looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t care what it means for me. I don’t care what it means for the band. I don’t care if I have to give it all up tomorrow. I just want you.”
"I won't let you give it up, not now. You finally made it, Eds," Steve pulled one hand away to wipe at his eyes, equal parts happy to hear that Eddie still wanted him and sad that he couldn't have him. "I can't let you live to regret me. I couldn't wake up one day knowing that you blame me for keeping you back."
"Then come with me! Don't keep me back!" Eddie was crying as much as Steve, eyes red like he'd already been crying before he got to Steve's house. "You're keeping yourself back. What are you gonna do when the kids go? They don't wanna stay here, so they'll spread out and you'll still be here. You'll have wasted years being here for them. What about being there for you? What about letting them be there for each other and calling them up once in a while like I do? Like Robin and Nancy do? You don't owe anyone here anything, especially not if it costs you your happiness."
Steve had heard it all before from everyone, even Dustin, even Hopper, but it never really sunk in. It wasn't really now, either, but he was at least trying to think through it.
It made sense, but it always had made sense. It's just that what made the most sense was being here for the people who needed him.
"Do you really think those kids would be upset if you tried to be happy? Do you think they would rather you stay here and be miserable?"
"No." That answer was easy. The kids would never want him to be miserable. Nobody in their group would.
"Then be happy, Stevie. Be happy with me. I'd do anything to keep you happy," Eddie begged, lifting his hands to kiss his knuckles. "I want you to do this with me. I wanna sing to you every night, sweetheart."
"What if you get tired of singing to me every night?"
Eddie shook his head, smiling fondly at the man in front of him. "I can't imagine a life where I'd ever get tired of seeing the way your cheeks turn pink and you get that goofy smile on your face when I look at you from the stage. But if it did, then you can come right back here or go to Robin or anyone, because everyone loves you and wants the best for you."
Steve knew that, always had known that deep down.
"So the guys are just cool with me tagging along?"
"The guys will be thrilled to not have me pouting 22 hours of the day. They'll welcome you with open arms."
Now was when they could seal it with a kiss, maybe even let themselves get carried away, strip off their clothes, hurry through months of yearning in a few minutes. They could take it to the bedroom, or the shower, or the floor if they wanted to risk a sore back. They could leave marks that would take days to fade, and laugh about the way Eddie always, always makes the same whimpering noise when he gets inside Steve. They could, but they don't.
Steve leans his head against Eddie's shoulder and Eddie cups the back of his head, lets his fingers twist in his hair. They both let out a sob, recognition of how much they missed each other, how stupid they were for thinking being apart was better for either of them, finally sinking in.
"I'm sorry." Steve breathed against Eddie's neck, shaky and unsure.
"I'm sorry, too."
They stayed curled up on the couch together for hours, until Dustin showed up yelling about Steve not answering his phone. They hadn't even heard it ring, so wrapped up in their own bubble.
Eddie shooed him away, told him they'd be by to see him later, and surprisingly, Dustin left.
Only then did they manage to get up and go to Steve's bedroom, undressing as they went, lips never far from skin, as they got reacquainted with the taste and feel of each other.
Later ended up being the next morning, but luckily, Dustin didn't say a damn word when they both showed up at his door holding hands and beaming more at each other than at him.
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iwasntstable · 3 months ago
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n.s. | if i'm there
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🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/IFIMTHERE [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites  ﹂ all | series | [one-shot] | blurb | head-cannons | ask   ﹂ fear-of-failure | nightmare | never-just-friends     stay-til-morning | new-neighbour | [if-im-there]
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➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔ 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+  [𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]
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I didn't want to believe how much you needed help / And I just left you to be all by yourself / And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well / But I just came back to see how hard you fell Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall / You'll have a friend down in Hell after all   — If I'm There - Bad Omens
summary: when things start getting bad, you withdraw. ignoring calls and texts, and descending into bad habits as you self-isolate. but noah knows what you're like and he loves you too much to let you suffer alone.
content tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, poor mental health, mentions of disordered eating, discussions of food, self-destructive behaviour, fluff.
word count: 3.8k.
note: having a rough time recently so enjoy the self-indulgent product of my stressing.   PS: please tell me if the layout of this post is fucked up so I can fix it for you.
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Things are getting bad again. You find your sleep schedule sliding later and later, falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and waking in the afternoon, bypassing the day altogether. Meals are becoming infrequent and poor in quality. Appetite dwindling and opting to eat half a bag of microwave rice at 3am rather than dedicating time to creating a nutritious and satisfying meal. Truth be told, you didn’t have the energy to cook anything more, and the malnutrition itself likely played a part in that lack of energy. The trash was left to build up, and the laundry hadn’t been done in weeks.
The progression of all of this was gradual. So gradual, that by the time you recognised what was happening, it was all but too late to stop the rapid descent into your depression. And as the days go by, you start to withdraw into yourself. Messages from friends begin to go unanswered. You tell yourself you’ll reply later, when you have the mental bandwidth to engage in conversation. But later ends up being not at all. Too many days have passed, and you feel like it’s too late to reply now; you don’t know how. That includes your boyfriend.
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           [Noah 💘]
            Tuesday             10:45AM
— Morning! Do you wanna call later?    Miss your voice 
          morning! I have a headache —             right now and I feel like it's             not gonna go away :( I'll let                you know though.                 I miss you too ❤️ —
— Aw I'm sorry :( — I hope you feel better soon — Text me later and let me know    how you are ❤️
            02:27PM
— Hey babe how are you feeling?
             my head still hurts :( —
— Want me to come over and look    after you? — Have you eaten yet?
       you don't have to do that, I'd be —            shitty company anyway                   just wanna sleep —
— Okay :( — I'll text you later tonight so    you can sleep
            10:09PM
— How are you feeling? — Are you sleeping? — Hope you’re resting well. Text    me when you wake up so I know    you’re okay — I love you ❤️ — Goodnight ❤️
           Wednesday             08:41AM
— Morning, how’re you feeling?
            09:13AM
— Are you awake? — Babe, are you okay?
      hey! sorry I was still asleep. I feel a —       little better but my head still hurts :(
— I’m gonna cancel today and come    over — I don’t want you to be alone when    you’re not well 
       no don’t do that, i’m okay really —              you know this happens          sometimes. I just wanna rest,            you don’t have to cancel for        me. not when work is important
— You’re important too — Please let me look after you
          I love you and I love that —           you want to be here for me,         but all I want to do right now                   is sleep
          I don’t want you to cancel —           important schedules just           to watch me sleep all day                I’ll feel better soon.             just need to give it time. —
— I’d cancel to sit and watch you sleep    in a heartbeat — I love you, I just want you to be okay — I have to go, I’ll text you later okay?
         I’ll text you back when I can, —            if I don’t reply I’m probably          asleep so don’t worry have a                good day I love you —
            10:26PM
— Hey babe sorry I didn’t text all day I    was so fucking busy — How’re you doing now? — Are you sleeping again?
       [MISSED CALL: 10:31PM]
— Text or call me when you wake up,    even if it’s the middle of the night I’ll    leave my sound on — I love you ❤️
              Thursday             08:41AM
— Hey, are you awake?
            08:55AM
— Hello??
       [MISSED CALL: 08:59AM]
— Message me when you wake up
            12:20PM
— Babe?? — I’m worried — Even if you don’t wanna talk can     you please let me know you’re okay?
            12:46PM
— Babe please answer me
       [MISSED CALL: 12:48PM]
            01:20PM
     hey, sorry I missed your messages —         I’m okay sorry for worrying you —
— I was just about to come over — I still might — I’m worried about you
           please don’t I just don’t —          wanna see anyone right now
— Even me?
                  I’m sorry —             I’ll text you tomorrow — — If that’s what you want — I love you
               Friday             03:47PM
— I don’t want to bother you, I’m     trying to give you space if that’s    what you need — But I’m worried about you — You haven’t messaged me all day — Did I do something wrong?
            04:10PM
— Babe please answer me
       [MISSED CALL: 04:12PM]
       [MISSED CALL: 04:15PM]
            04:18PM
— Your friends said they haven’t heard    from you in days — What’s going on? You can talk to me. — You don’t have to talk to me if you    don’t want to but text someone back,    please — I just wanna know that you’re okay
       [MISSED CALL: 04:23PM]
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And that’s how Noah ended up outside your door. Banging incessantly and shouting your name through the wood. You could hear him from where you were wrapped up in bed, but you were half hoping he would just drop it and go away. Realising quickly, however, the futility of that hope when you heard another voice join the sound of his. That of your neighbour, the nosy one from the house on the right.
You groan and throw the blanket off yourself, flinching a little when your feet touch the cold floor. You have no choice but to go downstairs, and no time to change your appearance. Hoping to whatever God will listen that Noah doesn’t make a comment on the clothes you’d been wearing for the past week before you can get in the shower and change.
“I’m just really worried about her,” you can hear the unmistakable tone of Noah’s voice through the door before you even open it.
Hesitating for a moment with your hand on the door handle, you decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. “I haven’t seen her for, ohhh let me think... has to be about a week now,” despite the man’s voice wavering with age, it came loud and clear through the door. An unfortunate side effect of his hearing loss.
“A week?!” Noah exclaimed. Having enough of the old man sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, you unlock the door quickly, wrenching it open and taking a surprised Noah by the arm.
“Oh! Nice to see you, dear. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The old man sneers.
“Yeah, nice seeing you, Trevor,” you barely extend him a glance as you drag Noah in through your doorway, slamming the door closed and turning the key. You let out a deep sigh, your palms and forehead resting against the cool wood.
Noah calls your name softly. You squeeze your eyes tight and take in a breath before you turn to face him. Putting on the best phoney smile you can muster.
“Sorry about him, he’s always in everyone’s business. What are you-”
“He said he hasn’t seen you in a week,” he says matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of a smile on his face. “Your friends said they haven’t heard from you in days either, and you’ve been ignoring my texts. And calls.”
Your heart seizes at the sadness in his eyes. He stands there in your front room, his usual sweatpants and hoodie, but he just looks so defeated. You always tell him he looks like an upset puppy when he’s sad, and the puppy-dog eyes are working overtime on you right now. “I told you, I’ve just been busy, and I-”
“And you had a headache, and you missed my texts, and you didn’t want to talk,” his voice was as stern as his expression. You knew he wasn’t an idiot. That there’s no way he’d believe your—at best—flimsy excuses. You stand frozen to the spot, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. Picking at the stitches, trying to distract yourself from the lump forming in your throat. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Noah questions.
You swallow roughly, “I don’t know what you... I don’t-”
He says your name firmly and takes a step towards you, “I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly.”
Feeling your heart begin to race in your chest, you swallow again, but it does nothing to get rid of the tightness in your throat. Or the dizziness creeping up on you.
“Are you doing bad again?” He sounds softer this time, and you almost wish he would just scream at you because when he’s kind and attentive like this, you can’t help but crumble and shut down.
You clench your jaw as your breathing gets quicker, shallower, and you feel the unmistakable burn of tears in your eyes. “I’m fine,” your voice comes out cracked and weak, not at all the sound of someone who's fine. 
“Don’t pretend you’re okay. Please don’t lie to me, because I know you’re not okay!” Noah crosses the room to meet you, holding his hands outstretched towards you, “what can I do for you? Please, I want to help.”
You cover your mouth as you choke back a sob, wrapping your other arm around your middle; you can’t hold it in anymore, and the floodgates open. Gasping for breath that seems to never come, you grip the front of your shirt tight in your fist, the clothing suddenly feeling suffocating and stiflingly hot.
“Oh, baby. Come here,” Noah takes you by the shoulders and pulls you into his chest, where you fall into him and cling onto him like he’s your only lifeline. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? Slowly, in and out,” he strokes soothing circles against your back as he demonstrates to you how to breathe. “Come and sit down here, yeah? The couch is right here.”
You barely register your legs moving for the numbness extending across your entire body, from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. Your tears are hot on your face, and every time you try to wipe them away, they’re just replaced by more in a never-ending stream. The room feels like it’s spinning around you as you move, only worsening the feeling of nausea rising in your throat. The plush cushions of the couch are a welcome relief.
“You’re holding your breath, I need you to breathe. Just how I am, that’s it,” he cradles your head to his chest through your shaky attempts to take in a breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth. Your breath hitches uncontrollably with every inhale, taking in tiny bursts of air at a time. Noah, though, has nothing but praise on his lips: “That’s it. You’re doing so well, just listen to my voice.”
You missed his voice. As you worsened and withdrew, you found any excuse to avoid going out to see him, and you had been ignoring his calls for days. You knew you were doing it, and you missed him desperately, but with every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to reach out. It was hard for you to reach out for help in the first place, hard for you to admit to anyone that you needed help. Hard to admit it to yourself. Opting instead to suffer in silence and just push through it until you finally broke. You didn’t know any other way.
The familiar presence of him by your side eases the pace of your racing heart, allowing each breath to come a little easier. A little calmer. “I hate to see you hurting like this,” he whispers into your hair, his hand stroking through it gently, working to soothe the seemingly unquenchable anxiety. “I want to help you, please let me help you.”
It broke your heart to hear the pain in his voice. You never wanted to hurt him, but that’s all you seem to do. That cold hand of dread tightens its grip on your chest again, panic filling your lungs and replacing all the air. “I’m sorry,” you barely choke out, gripping onto Noah tighter. Warring with yourself, wanting to hold him close, but feeling like you need to push him away.
“You don’t need to apologise, ever. I’m here, I’m right here,” he runs his hand up and down your back, cradling you close. He can’t help but notice that through the fabric of your shirt, the bones of your spine are ever so slightly more prominent than before. He keeps his mouth shut. Focussing instead on quelling your distress and holding you tight in his arms. 
“I just- I fuck everything up. I can’t do anything right, I don’t deserve your love, I don’t deserve you-” Once you start talking, you can’t stop, finally letting it all out until Noah cuts you off, incapable of hearing you degrade yourself anymore.
“No. No, that’s not even remotely true. Don’t say that about yourself,” he says firmly, holding you just a little tighter. 
You shake your head against him, “all I do is hurt people and push you away, and I don’t know how to stop. You don’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have to put up with me.”
“I don’t ‘put up with you’. I love you, and I want to be here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”
“You shouldn’t have to drop everything to come deal with me when you’re so busy. You deserve someone that isn’t so fucking hard to love.”
With that, Noah pushes you backwards by the shoulders, holding you there so he can look into your eyes when he speaks. “You are not hard to love. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of doing. You just…” He takes a deep breath, cupping your cheek and brushing away the tears from under your eyes. “You just need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”
The image of him blurs when the tears overflow from your eyes again, your face crumpling as you bow your head. “You’ll leave me," your voice shaking with the force of your sobs.
"Why would you ever think I'd leave you?" he asks, dismayed by your fear.
"Everyone always leaves," you tell him, voice brittle and quiet, shaking your head. "It's only a matter of time before you leave too."
"I love you," Noah feels tears prick at his own eyes. "I love you so, so much. And I'm not going anywhere." He lifts your head, once again brushing away your tears so he can look into your eyes, "please trust me to help you."
"I'm just so tired," you confess, and he pulls you into his arms again. 
“I can't promise to fix all your problems, but I can promise you won't have to face them alone. There’s nothing you could do that would drive me away. And the things that would, I know you’d never do,” he runs a comforting hand through your hair as you cry, his other arm secure around your waist. Your tears soak into his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He wants you to give it all to him—all your sorrows, all your grief—so that he can bear it with you.
You desperately want to believe his words. To lean on him when you need him the most, but that insecure piece inside of you won’t let you yield. You don’t know how to open up to anyone without feeling like a burden.
Noah stays right there with you until the tears subside and your breathing evens out. Your head resting in his lap as he reassuringly strokes your hair, you feel the beginnings of a dull ache in your head that makes you drowsy. He rubs soothing circles into your back with his other hand, shifting slightly to get a better look at your face. “Have you eaten yet today?” He asks tentatively. Feeling your throat constrict under the pressure of guilt, you know you can’t lie to him. You know he sees right through you, so you decide to try being honest by shaking your head. “Want me to cook something for you? Or we can order something? My treat.”
You know he means well, but you don’t know how to say you don’t have an appetite without worrying him. He won’t let you go the entire day without eating, but all you want to do is sleep.
“Please talk to me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.”
On a shaky breath, you settle for a half truth. “I don’t think there’s anything to cook.”
“That’s fine, we can order food then. What do you want?”
Chewing on your lip, you freeze. The silence stretches on far too long for you to be deciding what restaurant to order from, it’s clear you’re unable to answer.
Noah sighs your name, “you have to eat something.” 
“I know. I just… I just don’t want to,” he remains quiet, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t feel hungry. Thinking about it is overwhelming. I just want to sleep so I don’t have to think about it.”
“What have you been eating these past few days?” He asks cautiously, his tone light. Conscious to not sound accusatory.
You sigh, knowing there’s no way of escaping this. “Microwave stuff, mostly,” you play with the fabric of his sweatpants, feeling his leg underneath, fidgeting your anxiety away. “Rice, oats, ramen. Stuff I don’t have to wash up after.”
“Have you been eating every day?”
The question hangs heavy in the air, the tension only thickening when you answer "no,” barely above a whisper.
You feel him nod. Quiet for a moment until he too speaks so quietly, you almost didn’t hear it. “You can’t go on like this.”
“I know,” you confess.
“Please let me help you.”
The desperation in his voice is what does it—the final straw. You sit up straight, turning to face him. Wiping the residual tears from your cheeks and looking him in the eye. You know it’s time to really be honest. 
“It’s hard for me-” Your voice catches in your throat as the threat of crying again creeps up on you, not quite realising how much your body would resist. Taking a second to compose yourself—a deep breath in, eyes closed, releasing it slowly—your resolve strengthens and you continue. “It’s hard for me to open up to people. To admit when I’m struggling. I’m so used to feeling like I’m burdening everyone with my problems, so I just keep it all to myself. And by the time I realise I’m going down that road again, it’s too late to stop it.”
“It’s never too late,” Noah says reassuringly, tucking both sides of your hair behind your ears—the left first, then the right. “I mean this in the most loving way possible, but you don’t get to decide whether you’re a burden. You don’t get to take that choice away from me. The choice to help you. Your problems will never be a burden to me, no matter how big or small. You will never be a burden to me. I love you. I choose you. And I’ll never think poorly of you for needing help, ever.”
You don’t know what to say. Your eyes fixed on his. One of your favourite things about him is his big brown eyes. Always so full of comfort. So full of love that even you, with all of your self-doubt, can’t deny it. “I’m sorry. I know you said not to apologise, but I think I need to. I’m sorry for making you worry and for pushing you away. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
Noah takes your hands in his. Large palms enveloping your own entirely. “Seeing you hurting is what hurts me the most. I love you so much, all I want is for you to be happy and healthy.”
You squeeze his hands in yours, “I love you, Noah. I’ll try harder, I promise. Feeling so unwanted for so long before I met you, I think I didn’t realise just how lucky I am to have you until now.” Noah raises one of your hands, kissing the back firmly and holding it there, savouring the feel of your skin against his lips. Timidly, you ask, “can we get pizza?”
He breaks out into a smile, “of course we can! But you have to text your friends back first," he bargains, "even if it’s just something short.”
“Deal,” you can’t help but return his smile. “My phone is upstairs, I’m just gonna go get it.”
“Wait!” he calls as you stand, pulling you back to the sofa and into him with a hand on the back of your head, “can I kiss you first?”
Without a word, you lean into him, closing the gap between you and feeling his lips on yours for the first time in weeks. That familiar burn of tears threatening to escape your eyes returns, and when you pull away, those beautiful brown eyes are full of concern.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, laughing awkwardly, “happy tears. I just missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” his smile taking on a more solemn appearance this time. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, please don’t ever forget that.”
“Don’t forget that I love you too. No matter what happens. No matter how stupidly self-destructive I act.”
Noah pulls you in for one final embrace before letting you retrieve your phone. You spend time texting back each of your friends, apologising for your absence and telling them you were okay, that Noah is here, and you’d explain more later. Noah, sitting at your right, creates your pizza order, periodically asking what else you’d like adding.
The two of you spend the night watching trash TV, settling into your usual comfort and hurling insults at the characters for making stupid decisions while you eat your food. Only realising after it arrived just how hungry you really were. And when you’re finished eating, Noah and you head upstairs.
You feel like a new person after you shower, coming out of the bathroom to find Noah relaxed against your headboard. The sheets on your bed changed, and a fresh set of clothes lay waiting for you to change into for bed.
Accepting finally how much lighter everything feels when someone is around to help you. You slide under the clean sheets, comforted by the warmth of Noah’s body beside you for the first time in too long. And just as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his hand stroking your back, you’re determined to never let things get this bad again. Knowing you need to trust him, because trust is the foundation of love, and you love Noah with every fibre of your being. And despite how hard it is sometimes, you need to let him love you back.
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
Note
hey mei, if you feel like doing it i'd love to see poly!marauders fighting over who gets a turn in bed with reader next, if not no worries! love u!
love you too!
this post is 18+, minors dni.
"No, Prongs, you got last Thursday after practice. I specifically remember because I tried telling you to shower first, so that she wasn't getting a face full of your sweat." Remus narrows his eyes at James, who scoffs indignantly.
"Yeah, you told me to shower so I didn't stink, and I did! And while I was in the bathroom, you swooped in a tired her out!"
"That is not true," Remus snaps, "I went to the library! You're thinking of Tuesday, which was before Thursday, when your turn was, which means that I get the next turn."
"Mate, I'm telling you," James huffs, and Sirius plants his face into your shoulder with an overexaggerated snore, "I didn't get a go last week at all!"
"Well now you're being ridiculous," Remus gripes, "You have your face stuffed between her thighs practically every night, Potter. If you're gonna lie do it more convincingly."
"But this week's been busy and I haven't got the chance!" James insists, "Moony, Sirius might give into everything you want, but I'm not budging. It's my turn."
"Pair of charmers, aren't they?" Sirius drawls, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he murmurs by your ear.
"Mhm," You hum, and tense as his hand creeps up your thigh beneath your comforter, "Siri-"
"Shh," He quiets you, "They're gonna be bickering for a while. Why not enjoy ourselves?"
"They'll be jealous," You lament, but you don't push his hand away when it dips below the waistband of your pajama shorts, "Sirius, if we get caught-"
"Don't get us caught then, darling." He purrs, mouthing at the sensitive skin on your neck just below your ear. He leaves a sticky kiss there, trailing them down towards your collarbones as the first of his fingers ghosts down your slit, sending shivers up your spine, "If you're nice and quiet, they'll never know."
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stormz369 · 3 months ago
Text
☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 4
Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, bit of trauma processing, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
warnings: family discord and dealing with trauma, drugs briefly mentioned, human trafficking briefly mentioned
word count: 1.7k
Chapter Selection
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I thought I was a strong, independent woman. I thought I preferred to take care of myself, that I could never be comfortable relying on others. One date with Jason had me strongly questioning those convictions. He bought the books, we had a late lunch/early dinner at the food court, wandered several stores, and talked about everything and nothing. I managed to keep him from buying every little thing I looked at, but we still ended up with several bags - all of which he insisted on carrying. Even with the bags in his hands, he managed to get his pinky wrapped around mine every time my hand was down. It was clingy, and awkward to walk, and it made me giddy. Is this feeling what everyone’s so obsessed with? … I think I get it now.
Jason drove me home that night, insisting that it was getting too dark and he didn't like the idea of me on public transit alone at night. Normally I would fight him on that, but the idea of walking home from the bus stop was doing unpleasant things to my stomach. He parked, and we took several minutes to rearrange the items in our bags.
“... I guess that’s everything.” He seemed a bit disappointed.
I nodded. “Yeah, I think you're right. … Thank you, Jay, this was a lot of fun.”
He smiled softly, nodding. “I had fun too. … Can I … see you again?”
“It's a distinct possibility.” I smirked a bit. “After all, I have yet to pass judgment on your trashy romance novel selection.”
He laughed softly, groaning and rubbing his face. “I already regret suggesting that. Give it back, you can't have it.”
I held my bags away from him, giggling a bit as he pretended to try to steal them. Suddenly there was movement in the corner of my vision, and I saw a silhouette on the roof across the street. “Oh god…”
“What? What's wrong??” Jason pulled back a bit.
“There’s someone on that roof. Which one is that, can you tell?” I peered up, but with the moon behind them I couldn't see any details.
Jason turned to look too, suddenly a bit stoney. “... Looks like Red Robin and Nightwing.”
“... Two of them? Are you sure? I only see one.” He just nodded. “... Fuuuhhhck, what's happening in my stupid neighborhood?”
“Probably nothing. This isn't their patrol territory…. Or … at least, that's what I've heard.”
I raised an eyebrow, staring at him. “You've heard? … What, do they take their cars to you?”
“... Something like that. … Anyway, it's well known, this is Red Hood's part of town.”
“... You don't think they're here for him, do you? I thought they were allied now?”
Jason shook his head a bit. “Probably just trying to spy on him … nosy bitches…”
I giggled a bit at that, but couldn't help the sneaking concern in the back of my mind. If they really were here to spy on Red Hood, that would suggest he was nearby … Did he decide he wanted his shirt back after all, or was something bad happening in the area?
Jason turned to me, a gentle smile on his face. “Hey, don't worry about them. You just get inside where it's safe, ok?”
I nodded, smiling softly. “Ok, but text me when you get home.”
He nodded, chuckling, “will do. And … about seeing each other again, … how about lunch on Tuesday?”
I nodded, grinning. “Sounds good. Good night, Jay.”
“Night, Doll.” I blushed a bit, getting out of the car and into my building. He waited for me to close the door before driving away, and I headed up to my apartment.
I wasn't sure what I'd find upstairs. I hadn't told Red Hood my unit number, but it probably wouldn't be that hard for him to figure out. … Hell, the shirt might have a tracker on it.
I unlocked my door and checked every room. Nothing had moved. My clothes were still in a crumpled heap on my floor, the flannel still peaking out from under my ruined pants. It occurred to me that I had meant to pick up a replacement pair at the mall before heading home. I sat on my knees, trembling a bit as I picked up the shirt. A thorough examination didn't reveal any electronic pieces attached. It was just a normal red flannel.
I held the shirt against my chest, shaking a bit. Everything was fine. I was fine. Red Hood was one of the good guys, even if he did some really terrifying shit. I wasn't a drug dealer or a human trafficker, so he had nothing against me. He was kind to me, even. I was safe. I was safe. I was safe.
My mind slowly drifted away from that night. Thoughts of blood and fear were replaced bit by bit with Jason; his shy little smiles and cheeky grins, the feeling of his finger wrapped around mine, even the smell of his cologne. When I breathed deep I could still smell it; a rich, woody smell, with a bit of lavender, and under that was a base note I couldn't identify. Something sharp and slightly metallic. I sighed softly, deciding not to think too hard about why I was tying the shirt around my waist, and started tidying the apartment. Couldn't put the pile off forever, but I didn't have to start there…
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Jason watched her go inside, waiting to make sure no creeps followed her in before the security door locked. Once he was satisfied that she was safe, he drove off, calling Dick. Straight to voicemail. He tried Tim; also straight to voicemail. Annoying, but fine. He knew where they would be headed next.
Unfortunately for them, the drive was not nearly long enough to calm him down. He pulled in to the batcave and sat on the hood of his car to watch the entrance. Eventually the pair rode in, staring at him like he was the grim reaper.
“… Heeeyy Jason! What are you doing here? Don't you have tonight off?” Tim tried to play it cool, taking his bike to its designated parking spot.
“You should be more careful, Tim. She saw you.”
“Whaaaat? I don't know what you're-”
“She. Saw. You. On that rooftop.” Jason growled a bit, clenching his fist. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to reassure her that her neighborhood was not about to be attacked without revealing too much?”
“C'mon Jaybird, we just wanted to check in!” Dick grinned, moving to pinch his cheek. “Baby Jay-Jay's first date! You can't fault us for being excited for you!”
He smacked Dick's hand. “I can and do. Don't do anything like that ever again.”
Dick hissed dramatically, pouting. “You're so mean, Jay. We just wanted to see if it was going well!”
“Stop. Spying. On me.” He growled, giving Tim a pointed glare. The younger man raised both hands in surrender and nodded.
Dick smirked as Jason opened his car door, calling out; “okaaay, but don't forget to report in to the chat. Unless you'd rather Babs check the CCTV footage at the mall for us?”
Jason froze and growled. “… Fuck….” He slammed the door shut and drove away without another word.
BatKids Group Chat:
Jason: It went well. Now everyone STOP stalking me! You're weirding her out! 😡
8:04pm
Cass: Excuse me??
8:06pm
Damian: Grayson and Drake are the only ones interested enough to bother stalking you, maybe you should focus your ire on them and not the whole family?
8:06pm
Babs: We need details, Jay!
8:07pm
Duke: Wait, what??
8:08pm
Dick: Jaybird went on a date today, Duke! Keep up!
8:09pm
Tim: With a normal human-type girl no less!
8:10pm
Damian: How normal can she be? She accepted a date with Todd after you two harassed her.
8:11pm
Cass: 🙃 … Dick, do we need to have a talk? 
8:12pm
Damian: I handled the matter at the coffee shop. (and am still waiting to be thanked, for the record Todd - the date would not have happened if I hadn't stepped in.) … But still, the girl's taste does seem questionable.
8:13pm
Dick: There was nothing to handle! We had it under control! 🙄
8:14pm
Cass: I hate to say it, but Dami does have a point - are we /sure/ she's entirely normal? There's no chance she's an undercover villain or anything?
8:14pm
Tim: Way ahead of you - background check came back clean. She's as normal as any other Gothamite.
8:15pm
Duke: So … absolutely nuts, but probably not too dangerous? 😂
8:16pm
Babs: Don’t listen to them, Jason - she's a very lucky (normal) girl!
8:17pm
Jason: You cannot be serious. You ran a background check???
8:19pm
Steph: What Babs said. Now, make with the details! 🤩
8:20pm
Dick: Of course we did - what kind of big brother would I be if I let you go out with a girl we know nothing about???
8:21pm
Jason: 😑 … This is exactly why I don't usually respond to this thread.
8:30pm
Duke: Details, man!
8:31pm
Steph: Details! Details! Details!
8:32pm
Jason: 😤 … We picked out books for each other.
8:38pm
Dick: Awww, cute!
8:39pm
Babs: … And???
8:40pm
Jason: And … She seemed a bit surprised that I was there at all?
8:43pm
Damian: Pleasantly surprised, or upset?
8:44pm
Jason: … Just … Baffled I think.
8:45pm
Tim: … How many times did you have to reschedule?
8:46pm
Jason: … A few. But I always told her with enough time so that I wouldn't be standing her up! 
8:47pm
Babs: Curious…
8:48pm
Dick: Alright everybody, recon time!
8:48pm
Jason: NO! It is NOT recon time!
8:49pm
Damian: What do we know about this girl?
8:50pm
Babs: On it!
8:50pm
Jason: No, no, NO! Stop!!!
8:51pm
Tim: Too late!
8:52pm
Jason: Uuggghh! I'm muting all of you!
8:53pm
Tim: … NOT IT TO TELL B!
8:55pm
Damian: Not it
8:56pm
Babs: Not it!
8:56pm
Cass: NOT IT!
8:57pm
Steph: Not it!!!
8:58pm
Duke: Not it!
8:58pm
Dick: …. Fuck.
9:03pm
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Next ->
Divider by: @saradika 
Taglist (open):
@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid
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celestie0 · 10 months ago
Text
nanami kento x reader | drabble
coney island. where did my lover go?
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"𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲."
ᰔ pairing. husband nanami x wife reader (f)
ᰔ summary. you're sitting on a bench in coney island, the place you and nanami met all those years ago, to talk about where your relationship went wrong. heavily inspired by the song "coney island" by taylor swift from her album 'evermore'
ᰔ warnings/tags. some pretty heavy angst. mention of blood/wounds.
ᰔ word count. 1.3k
a/n. hellooo i just had an itching to write something angsty, and i came up with something while listening to music. hope you enjoy :')
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you're sitting on a bench in coney island, wondering why nanami hasn't arrived by your side yet.
pulling back the sleeve of your blouse, you glance at your watch. the evening has settled in, and it was well past the time the two of you had agreed to meet. here, where everything began all those years ago. this place, where your soul has been left to bleed dry.
it was nanami who told you not to feed the ducks any bread. before you knew him, that was all you would do. white milk bread, torn apart into pieces, tossed into the pond in front of this bench for the quacking ducks to feed on with delight. but nanami told you that's not right. he told you that the ducks cannot digest the bread the same way that you and him do. you can relate to the ducks today, unable to absorb and understand the pain within you, and in a blink of an eye, that pain takes a seat next to you.
"hello, sweetheart," nanami says, voice soft as it always is. his familiar stature is beside you in your periphery.
your eyes flicker to your watch once more. "you're late, ken."
"i know," is all he says. "forgive me?"
you do.
"i thought you were lost somewhere," you tell him, the thought sending a shiver through you. or perhaps it was the cold.
"i wasn't lost. i could never be lost, coming to this place," he assures. you glance at the skin on his hands. he looks pale, like he hasn't seen the sun in days.
you still wonder if he's lost. you wonder if that man you loved was still out there somewhere, simply wandering, trying to find his way back to you. but the disappointment is palpable, and when you close your eyes tight, the chill of the air once again bites through your bones to silence all your hope.
"i looked for you everywhere. do you know that?" you say to him. "at the park entry, across the field. by the church. i even walked by the merry-go. and i cried when i couldn't see you standing there to watch me on the blue pegasus."
from the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to glance at you. you can see he's wearing a grey suit, the same one he wore exactly one year ago today. the one you said goodbye to him in. "it's been a long time, love. i'd wish you would let those memories go."
"we were supposed to be married forever," you barely whisper, glancing down at your ring still adorning your left hand. your eyes flicker to his hand, and the absence of the silver promise on his finger makes your soul sulk. "you've moved on from me, haven't you?"
nanami rubs his left finger with his thumb, like the sensation of the ring was a phantom limb. "i have. and i want you to move on from me as well. one day, you'll be too old to care. so don't spend another moment of your youth thinking about me."
your youth was him, from the day you met him on this bench. sprawled across it on a warm summer tuesday, reading your paperback of les misérables that had a worn out spine, gust of wind peeling a sticky note away from the page and delivering it to the front of this tall, handsome man that was walking by. he had bent down to pick it up for you, and curiously chose to read it first before handing it back. 'to love or have loved, that is enough' it said, one of your favorite quotes from the book. you didn't know what it meant at the time, but you knew what it meant now.
"were we just fools, ken?" you ask him out of nowhere. "if i had tried harder, could we have still been together? if i had let you know what it takes to be by my side, would you have still chosen to fall in love with me in the first place? how can i shake the thought that this was all a mistake?"
he shifts in his seat beside you. you still can't brave yourself to look at him. you haven't looked him in the eyes once this entire time. and you register that there's no heat from his body, leaving you feeling barren and cold.
"i would've loved you in any lifetime. there is nothing you could have done that would've kept me away," he tells you.
"so then you'll haunt me in every lifetime, too?" you ask. "a universe away from here, i'll still see your face everywhere i go?"
"no. i agreed to meet you here today to tell you that it's finally time for you to forget. those dreams of ours, of suburban holidays and tiny fingers, they can belong to someone else," he says to you, "they should belong to someone else."
you shake your head, feeling tears prickle in your eyes. christmas, winter snow, the oaky warmth of the fireplace. fresh spring air, wildflower blossoms, trees turned lush and new. salty air, summer breeze, mist of sprinklers over brown grass and skin. but by the time autumn came, there was nothing left but heartache.
"what if i asked for your forgiveness?" you say. your hands play with the bag of white bread in your lap. you thought he would scold you for it, for not remembering the wellbeing of the ducks, but truthfully you had simply forgotten. because it was like you were the version of yourself before meeting him, and you needed him to save you again.
"there's nothing to forgive," he replies. his voice is hoarse, like he's running out of air to breathe as the sun begins to set over the horizon. like this time spent together was something bought, not gifted.
"i'm sorry," you say, because you felt like you needed to say those words. "i'm sorry for how mean i was to you the last time we spoke. i don't know what got over me, but i really wish you had just stayed." your eyes prick with tears as you stare down at your lap. "i wish you weren't so quick to leave my side, even though i told you to go."
nanami places a hand over yours. you finally notice the scars and open cuts, fresh with blood. "i know, darling. as much as it troubled me to leave, i didn't want to stay and hurt you anymore."
you felt suffocated. "if i could turn back time, i would. i would go back to that moment, last week. and i would tell you to stay, so that i could've had you for the rest of a lifetime."
his thumb runs circles over the skin of your hand, but the movement is rigid and stiff. "was it last week?"
"it was." you're not mistaken, but he will try to convince you otherwise.
"i don't think so, darling."
"it was last week."
"it's been much longer than that. fifty-two fold longer."
yes. today was the anniversary. of when you buried him in the grey suit that he wears right now.
"you see my face wherever you go, hm?" nanami says to you as the tears begin to freely flow down your face. "well, when i got into the accident, the last sight that flashed before me was your face. i'm happy. i'm so happy that the last person i thought of was you."
blinking, wet drops falling onto his pale hand in your lap. "you should've stayed," you whisper. "that night, you should've just stayed with me. i would've said sorry, and i would've loved you forever."
you're sitting on a bench in coney island, wondering where your lover went. because when the sun dips underneath the horizon, his hand disappears from your lap, and you finally turn your head to look at him. but he's gone.
and when you blink the blur of salty tears from your eyes, you realize you were never sitting on that bench, waiting for him. you were standing in front of his gravestone, hoping that he'll talk to you again someday.
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a/n. gege would love this one
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ladykailitha · 3 months ago
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A Love Connection Part 1
In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!
If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.
This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.
Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?
~
Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.
And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.
“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.
“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”
Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.
“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”
Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”
“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”
“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”
Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”
Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.
~
Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.
“Love Connection”
“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”
“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”
Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.
Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.
Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.
To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.
It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.
“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”
“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”
Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”
Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”
Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.
“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”
Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”
“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”
So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.
When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”
Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.
“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”
Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”
“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”
Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”
“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”
“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”
Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.
They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”
“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”
Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”
It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.
~
There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.
He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.
“Hey!” she yelped.
Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.
“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.
“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”
Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”
Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.
“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.
He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.
While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.
Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.
Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.
They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.
Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”
~
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...
Have fun!
Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN
1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
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educatedsimps · 5 months ago
Note
Ahh I'm so in love with the idea of timeskip!Kenma as a dad 🥺 You've really made me even more in love with your blog 😘 Can I please request timeskip!Kenma x fem reader where he introduces our son to his followers on his stream? Baby Kodzuken ❤️ I'd love it if his followers were a gushing in the comments about how cute the baby is and how happy Kenma is when he talks about his baby boy and us (his wife)? I love Kenma and the thought of him as a dad is just the cutest to me. Thank you so much! Take care 🫶🏻
≪ back to fics masterlist
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kozume kenma x f!reader
a/n: OH MY GODSHKKAFYSYVUDNGUSYRGUKSYKS THIS IS LITERALLY THE CUTEST IDEA EVERRR OMG thanku for requesting my dear kenma anon ❤️ i'm so sorry this took WAY longer to publish than expected so THANK YOU for having the patience of an angel 😭 i really hope this was worth the wait so pls enjoy! lots of love and u take care too <33
cw: TIMESKIP SPOILERS, parenting au, domestic fluff, slice of life kinda thing, chat gg crazy bc kenma is an amazing dad. GREEN FLAG DAD KENMA
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"Hey guys, welcome back. I've got a very special announcement to make today, so here we are," Kenma adjusted his camera, smiling slightly.
It was a regular Tuesday evening and you were taking the time to do some self-care, which left Kenma with his second favourite thing in the world - his son.
As a YouTuber, professional gamer, stock trader, streamer and CEO of his own company, Kenma's work schedule was extremely flexible, and both of you were grateful for that. Not only did he have various sources of income, but he could be home as much as he wanted. And being home meant being able to spend time with his precious son, Kozume Kaito.
Kaito was your six month old bundle of joy - literally. If you had told Kenma a decade ago that he'd be a dad one day, he would have never believed you. Until, that is, you had Kaito.
Even before Kaito's birth, Kenma had no idea how he was supposed to take care of and raise a whole child. He just knew that he wanted to be the best father you and Kaito could've ever asked for. And so, you saw how stressed he could got about even the tiniest of things.
"What size clothes do we buy for him? Will S or M be better? What if he's a huge baby? Let's just get one of each size... Wait, what about pacifiers? A-and bottle hoods? What shape will he prefer? Longer ones? Shorter ones? Softer or slightly tougher ones? Ugh forget it, we'll get one of each type too."
However, all his worries disappeared the moment he held little baby Kaito in his arms. Kenma had never really been a crier, but the second he laid eyes on your beautiful son, he couldn't help but let it all out in the hospital ward.
"Can you guys see me clearly?" Kenma asked. The excited responses of "YESSS" "what's the surprise??" "OMG YOU'RE SO PRETTY" "yes i can see your handsome face" confirmed that his camera was indeed working just fine. Amused, he chuckled lightly. "Great. I'll be right back."
As he left the frame, his viewers were left staring at the background screen in his office, a big logo of Bouncing Ball Corp. After a few seconds of silence, some shuffling could be heard as Kenma returned with a chubby ball of energy in his arms. The moment he stepped back into frame with his beloved son in hand, the chat exploded.
kodzukenner: NO WAY IS THAT YOUR BABY??? riceballzzz: CUTIEEEEEEEEE AHHHH nek0mab1tch: omg he has a kid ?? ADORABLE miyamiya07: hawajhjchdjvhhfjhfrsjkhfdhasjhjchjfhjvhkrh lookattheclouds: since when?! vballer1208: HE HAS A CHILD??????????????
Kenma proudly held up his son like he had won an Olympic trophy - he simply adored Kaito. Meanwhile, Kaito watched, enamoured, as comments flooded the chat. Among those comments were also questions about Kaito and even you.
He knew the news of his son would be a major surprise to his online community, especially since the two of you had very successfully hidden your pregnancy from the public. Neither of you wanted to deal with all the pressure from netizens, media and the public.
"'He has Y/n's smile'," Kenma read one comment aloud. Chuckling, he agreed, "He does, doesn't he? He's lucky to inherit the most beautiful smile on earth."
Another comment asked where you were, and when Kenma simply replied with "Doing her own stuff." some commenters gushed about how cute it was that Kenma was on "babysitting duties".
With a scrunch of his face, Kenma retorted, "It's not babysitting. He's literally my child. Y/n's just doing her own stuff, what's the big deal? Come on, y'all gotta delete those gender role stereotypes from your heads, that's so 1950s." He huffed.
"'What's his name?'" Kenma read. "Hm. Y/n and I have actually decided not to reveal his name, so we hope you'll respect our decision."
kodzukenner: omg i wonder what his name is he's so cute i'm sure his name is as cute as him! nek0mab1tch: what if they named him kodzuken bouncingballer: baby kodzuken HAHA miyamiya07: OMG BABY KODZUKEN ??
Kenma chuckled as he read the comments guessing his child's name.
"'Is he joining today's stream?'" Kenma read aloud. Turning to his son with a gentle smile on his face, he replied, "You bet. Aren'tcha, big guy?"
In response, Kaito burst into a fit of giggles, excitedly babbling and pointing at the big screen in front of him.
The comments once again exploded into cheers of happiness as Kenma sat down in his usual gaming position, but this time, with his beloved son in his lap.
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a/n: i'm so sorry this is really short 😭😭 but i hope it's okay :,) tysm for requestingg! hope you liked it bae <3
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© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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roosterforme · 1 year ago
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Adult Education Part 15 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jessica knows Jake is sorry for losing it on Brian, but now she has once again started to dread going to work. Things had been looking up, and she desperately needed that hopeful feeling back. But a chance run-in with Brian's wife and one well timed email might just be the start of something good.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, mention cheating, 18+
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Every day that Jessica woke up and got ready for work felt like she was making herself look presentable for her own execution. She hadn't slept well after Tuesday evening when she went home and cried after Jake punched Brian in the face. He offered to stay with her, but she told him she needed some time to herself. And now she was in a cycle of dreading every minute of work, just like before.
She'd had these soft glimmers of hope over the last few months. She had made a new friend, she had a boyfriend who she was falling in love with, and she absolutely nailed the fraternity fundraiser. Everything was looking so hopeful, but she should have known there was no way she could have it all if Brian was involved. Especially since it looked like he had a broken nose on Thursday morning.
She thought she was going to throw up when he looked at her. Any minute, Dean Walters or someone from his office would be knocking on her door, asking what exactly had possessed her boyfriend to punch the head of the science department.
But it never came. And the anticipation was just making it worse. When she heard someone tapping on her door, her stomach lurched as she sank a little lower in her seat. "Come in," she called out, her voice wavering. When the door eased open, she was surprised to see her friend standing there. "Advanced Calculus," she muttered, leaning back in her seat and taking a deep breath.
"I brought you some coffee," the other woman said as she closed the door behind her. "And I also came to ask you why the hell you didn't tell me that Jake punched Conley in the damn face!"
When Jessica looked at her again, she just shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."
She set down the coffee cup and said, "You don't have to talk about it, because I already know all about it, because Jake won't shut up about it to Bradley. He thinks he fucked everything up with you. He thinks you're mad at him."
Jessica let her forehead rest on her desk. If she tried to say she wasn't avoiding Jake, she would be lying. "I think I just need to deal with the repercussions on my own. But I'll text him back." She reached for her phone and looked at the most recent message from him. Hey, Smart Girl. I'd love to bring dinner to your office hours, but only if you want me to.
"Wait. What repercussions?" the other woman asked as she took a seat with her own drink. "You don't think this will fall back on you? Do you?"
"How could it not? Have you seen Brian's face?"
She snorted. "I sure fucking did. I came up here more or less to congratulate you for making Jake fall in love with you so hard that he did that for you."
Jessica's heart pounded in response, and she knew her eyes were wide. Jake hadn't said that to her yet, and she hadn't either, but she felt like it was right there. "He just punched him all of a sudden. I didn't ask him to or anything."
"I know. That's the whole point. He couldn't let someone be shitty to you. I just knew Jake had it in him."
Jessica looked down at her phone again and decided to stop avoiding someone who made her so happy. I would love it if you brought me dinner.
His response came almost instantly, letting her know that he would be there. She felt a little better as she looked at her friend. "Thanks for the coffee." But she waved it off and shrugged. "I also wanted to stop by and tell you that everyone is still talking about your fratraiser. They all loved it."
Jessica wanted to love it, too. It has been the perfect night until Brian showed up. "Thanks. I still want to stop in and talk to Dean Walters about it, but I was trying to wait until things with Brian blew over."
"You should definitely talk to Walters," she replied as she stood to leave.
Jessica was tired of hesitating all the time, so she asked, "Do you want to have lunch together today?"
"Can't," she replied with a grimace. "I promised Dr. Rosenthal that I'd look at curriculum with him again."
"Tenure must be so nice," Jessica replied wistfully. "Not that I'll ever know."
Before she slipped out the door, the other woman said, "I'm still holding out hope, and you should, too."
Hours later, Jessica was still considering those words when she took a little break before the start of her office hours. She had been hiding at her desk, looking for a birthday gift for Jake, when she started yawning. With her office hours spread out like a gauntlet in front of her, she decided to quickly grab another coffee from the lounge. She would need it to get through a tutoring session with Luca.
But as soon as she walked through the door, she was met with Brian, and he had his arm wrapped around the same teaching assistant she saw him with before. The one he was most definitely sleeping with. His face looked terrible as the bruising had spread out from his crooked nose, giving him two black eyes. Jessica was sure the glare he was sending her way must be painful for him at the moment, and she had to try her hardest not to laugh. Apparently he was in full scumbag mode now, because he didn't even bother to separate from the TA as Jessica waffled next to the door, undecided if she should stay and make some coffee or not.
"Did you need something, Dr. Reed?" he snapped, his voice extra nasally.
The mere sound of his tone was enough to make her regret coming down here. "No, actually. I'll just leave you to your...business." She turned and left them, hoping she still had a can of Coke in her mini fridge that would suffice. And that was when she almost ran directly into Sabrina Conley.
Jessica recognized her immediately, and she could tell Brian's wife remembered her as well. A chill rippled along her entire body as she felt the woman appraising her with a hateful scowl. "Are you the reason my husband's face is a mess?" she asked, venom lacing every word. Convinced this week couldn't get any worse, Jessica stood frozen, completely unsure what she should say. Was it her fault? Or was it Brian's? Or maybe it was Jake's fault? She just wanted to hide in her office again and cry.
Sabrina took a step closer, her voice somehow more scathing as she said, "Can you at least tell me where he is?"
Jessica nodded, a jerky motion, as she pointed behind her and said, "In the lounge." It was a few seconds before she fully realized what she had done, and by that point it was too late. Sabrina had already disappeared around the corner, and then Jessica heard an angry shriek.
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It had been two solid days since Jake saw Jessica, and this was the proof he needed. Seeing her every day had become a necessity. It hurt that she'd distanced herself a little bit after the incident with Brian, even though he could understand that she probably just needed a little space and time. But the irrational side of his brain was running completely wild.
"I fucked up the best relationship I have ever had," he groaned in the locker room on base.
"No, you didn't," Bradley replied with an eye roll. "Or... maybe you did. Maybe Jessica is out on a date with Dev at this very moment."
Jake glared in response. "It's 5:30 on a Thursday. She just finished a lecture, and she's getting ready for her office hours. She's not anywhere with Dev."
Bradley smirked as he got dressed in one of his hideous shirts. "You have her entire schedule memorized. That's so cute."
"You have your wife's entire schedule memorized," Jake retorted.
"That's right. Dr. Tits is finishing up her linear algebra lecture right now which means I can pick her up on my way home. Unless we take a detour to the library," he muttered, and Jake decided to tune him out. He needed to stop home and grab the food he made yesterday in the hope that Jessica would want him to stop by tonight.
He would make this all up to her. If she was somehow in some shit at work because of him, he would have to try to fix it. So he picked up the little individual containers of chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables along with some ice packs. But his condo was so quiet, he was anxious to leave again. He was hoping Jessica would want to spend the weekend here with him, cooking and reading some journals. Making love and watching a movie. Really anything she wanted to do.
He drove his new truck to campus and parked, knowing he was right in the middle of her office hours and not wanting to intrude if she was working with Luca or someone else. So he went slowly up the walkway past Chippy's and crossed the street to the science building. If he saw Brian, he would stay calm this time. He wouldn't fuck anything up worse for his girlfriend.
When he reached her office, the door was closed, and he heard a soft conversation inside, prompting him to wait his turn. He was hoping it was Luca. He already felt the rage building inside of him over the fact that it could be Brian again. But then the door opened, and a skateboard hit the floor in front of him, and Jake smiled.
As Luca skated away, Jessica launched herself at his chest, and Jake welcomed her, dropping his cooler bag on the floor. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly as she buried her face in his neck and held onto him. "I missed you."
"I don't know," she whispered. "I just know I missed you, too." She started backing up, pulling him into her office, and he reached to pick up the bag of food.
When she guided him to her desk chair, he was delighted that she pushed him down before sitting on his thigh. Jake's hands went to her waist, and she came to rest against his chest with a sigh. Maybe she wasn't so upset with him after all.
He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. He'd said it so many times. "I'm sorry I punched him."
"I know you are. It's okay, Jake. Part of me is absolutely delighted that you did that," she told him as she ran her fingers along his name tag. "Because he deserved it." She swallowed hard, and when she spoke again, he could barely hear her. "Brian's wife was here today, and she walked in on him alone with one of the department TAs in the lounge. I'm sure it was as obvious to her as it is to me that he's sleeping with her now."
"Shit," he grunted, stroking her jaw with his fingers before brushing them through her hair. "If he got caught again, then he deserved it."
She nodded. "I don't know why I feel guilty that I was the one who told her he was in the lounge."
Jake's fingers froze. "You feel guilty? Baby, the only one who should feel guilty about anything is Brian.""I know that," she whispered. "I do know that. But Sabrina has been through enough, and I've been feeling bad for her for the past year."
She needed a break, and Jake knew it. "That's understandable, but it's still not your fault. I think you should come spend the weekend at my place and let me take your mind off things."
Jessica tilted her face to look at him. "How are you going to do that?"
He kissed her forehead again as he said, "By cooking for you and kissing you and reading journals with you." Her soft moan had him pressing his luck. "We could pick out some journals right now, and I could have them ready for when you come over tomorrow after work. You worked really hard on your fundraiser, and you deserve a break this weekend."
"Jake," she groaned. "That sounds perfect." The fact that she was curling up on him and yawning now let him know she was exhausted. And if Brian's wife was on campus earlier today, then there was a good chance she was upset that her husband's face was all bruised. He needed to take Jessica's mind off of this shit.
"I'll go grocery shopping tonight, and then the whole weekend is whatever you want it to be, Jess."
--------------------------
On Friday morning, when she ran down the hallway and into her office, Jessica turned on her computer. While it started up, she grabbed a few more journals from her shelf to take to Jake's place. Her plan was to leave right from campus to spend the weekend with him, her overnight bag already in her trunk. When she logged in to check her university email, she had to read over the newest message three times to believe it.
Dr. Reed, I realize this is very short notice, so please allow me to apologize in advance. Dr. Conley is taking a short leave of absence, and in an effort to keep disruption to a minimum, there is an immediate need for professors who are willing to step in and teach some of his courses. Due to conflicting schedules, you are the only PhD in the science department who can advise his Senior Studies class on Wednesday afternoons. I know this will be an additional workload if you are willing to take it, so we can discuss compensation on Monday. However, if you are willing, please let me know today so I can finalize this schedule. It would be much appreciated. Sincerely, Dean Corbin Walters
"Oh shit," Jessica gasped. Brian was taking a leave of absence? And not only was the dean not upset with her, he was asking her to take one of Brian's classes? "Holy shit." She lunged for her keyboard and typed up a response so quickly, she had to read it three times to fix the spelling errors. Her heart was pounding, because she would have been willing to do this even without the extra compensation.
And now she sat back in her chair, wondering exactly what had happened with Brian's wife. The anticipation was going to eat her alive, but she had a quantum physics lecture to hold. First she added a note to her calendar to call Dean Walters' office and schedule a meeting for Monday.
By the time Jessica was leaving campus on Friday afternoon, she had a meeting scheduled with the dean. She also took the time to update and recalculate all of her grades, and Luca was finally passing. She rode down the elevator with a smile on her face, knowing Brian wasn't on campus, lurking around a corner, ready to give her a hard time. Instead she walked out to her car in her heels with her head held high.
Her stomach was growling, but she knew Jake would feed her all weekend. He would take care of everything. She wouldn't have to scrape together any sad meals or plan her lessons through next semester just for something to do. She was allowed to enjoy herself when she was with her boyfriend. She was allowed to let her feelings grow deeper.
Of course she wasn't disappointed when she knocked on the front door of his condo, and the door swung open to reveal him in an undershirt and gray sweatpants, the smell of something delicious wafting to meet her.
"Baby, you should call me from the parking lot next time," Jake drawled, reaching for her. "It's getting dark outside, and I don't want you walking around alone."
Jessica whimpered as he pulled her inside and locked the door. Of course she thought he was being a little dramatic, but she appreciated him nonetheless. "Okay, next time I'll call you." She barely got the last word out as his lips met hers. Her palm slid over the roughness of the stubble starting to grow in on his cheek before she pushed her fingers back through his hair.
"You're really not upset with me?" he asked softly, eyes closing to her touch.
"No," she promised. "I just needed some time to think about things, but I'm not upset with you."
It was all a seamless motion as Jake scooped her up by her thighs and backed up until he was sitting on his couch with her on his lap. "I missed you," he whispered, squeezing her legs and hips gently.
She laughed as he kissed her neck. "You saw me yesterday."
"It wasn't enough." His voice sounded a little rougher.
She tugged on his hair until his lips were hovering against hers. "It was less than a day ago."
His nose bumped hers as his hands tightened around her waist. "Well apparently I can't go that long, Jessica."
She could feel his cock hardening through his sweatpants, and the more she tugged on his hair, the raspier his voice seemed to get. His green eyes were so pretty and eager, and she wanted him right now. Her skirt was already bunched up on her thighs, so she took his hands in hers and used them to push the fabric the rest of the way up to her waist.
A little smirk formed his lips as she said, "I can't go another minute."
Jake grunted and shook his head before his eyes trailed down to where she knew her rose colored thong was on display for him, and he swiped one long index finger up along her clit. "Jake!" she gasped, grinding down on his cock. He did it again, and she rolled her hips again. "Oh my god."
With one hand, Jake hooked her underwear to the side, and the cool air met her wet core. With his other hand, he tugged himself free of his sweats and his underwear, his thick cock standing at attention for her. She didn't hesitate as she sank down around him, making him groan loudly. One slow roll of her hips, and she was groaning too. Just when she was getting a good rhythm going, her lips met his neck, and his phone alarm started blaring in his pocket.
"Shit," he grunted, stilling her movements with one hand on her butt as he mashed his fingers against his phone screen. "I'm making you a chicken pot pie, and I don't want it to burn." He stood with Jessica fully seated on his cock, and she grabbed at his hair and his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist, losing one high heel as he walked.
"Fuck! Jake!" she nearly screamed, clenching around him with each step he took.
"Hang on, Baby," he whispered, setting her on the island before turning away from her to reach for his pot holders. She was whimpering for more as soon as he was gone, but she was treated to the sight of him removing the pie from the oven before tossing the pot holders on the floor and rushing back to her, his wet cock bobbing along. "I got you."
He was back where she wanted him with one sharp thrust, and the look of concentration on his face as he worked her up made her smile. "You liked it when I was walking, didn't you?"
All she had to say was, "Yes," and he had her up off the island again. She lost her second shoe as he grinned and walked around the island, rubbing the spot deep inside of her that made her ache with need. "Yes." She was a mess, clinging to him and making ridiculous sounds while he walked her back through the kitchen. And then she was clenching around his cock, with her lips to his ear, but when she saw the dinner he made for her, she came. She whined his name, one long, loud syllable.
Next thing she knew, he had her back pressed up against the refrigerator, magnets clattering to the floor as he got some leverage and thrust into her with all his weight. "Jessica," he growled, nudging her glasses with his nose and squeezing her butt. Then he filled her up with his cum, his cheeks flushed and his eyes half lidded.
Jake kissed along her lips as he murmured, "Let me feed you dinner, Smart Girl. And then we can do anything you want as long as you don't leave my side." --------------------------
Could things be looking up? I mean, Jake can't really be blamed, right? And it looks like scumbag Brian is found out once again. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 16
@blahehblah
@sotalife
@desert-fern
@furiouspiespytaco
@rosiahills22
@daggerspare-standingby
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@callsign-joyride
@theharddeck
@withakindheartx
@roosterscockpit
@whatislovevavy
@hangmanbrainrot
@neferpatra
@sehnsuchts-trunken
@averyhotchner
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@mygyn
@hoyaharper
@tallyovie
@gennyanydots
@callsign-magnolia
@whisperofsong
@seriouslyseresin
@double-j
@bradshawsbitch
@katiebby04
@supernaturaldawning
@chassy21
@tylerjones98
@captainjaspenor
@gigisimsonmars
@fanboyswhore9
@angel-w0nderland
@abaker74
@idontcare-11
@isaebellaa
@bringnattolife
@xoxabs88xox
@djs8891
@hufflepufftruffle
@cottagecori
426 notes · View notes
quickstappen · 11 months ago
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track 003: all's fair in love and war
A/N: im finally after my exams, this is somehow AGAIN - twitter heavy, there's this one twitter thread that is so obvoiusly halfassed, please ignore it :))
masterlist | previous next
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liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher and others
marcilazzaro1 a cheeky lil pitstop in heaven 🤠 see you in singapore
see all comments...
madi_races what'd you mean pitstop?? i thought LA was the pitstop?
nyoomf1 is that... seb?
mickschumacher 👀
↳ marcilazzaro1 stop acting all mysterious, you were there too
↳ ilpredestinatox sorry what
redclerc is she in Switzerland???
↳ redmilton i mean, it looks like it?
↳ hammertime_1 but why tho
↳ redmilton her and sebastian are friends, it's not like she needs a permission to visit him
forzalec16 girll it's tuesday, aren't you supposed to be IN singapore already??
charles_leclerc still can't believe you didn't take me
↳ marcilazzaro1 yeah, it's not like you have a car to drive this weekend or something 🤔
ferra_ria who is she?? why is everyone so obsessed with her still? i thought she and pierre broke up?
↳ screwderriaf1 we've been obsessed way before she was with pierre. she's actually on ferrari's media team and she's friends with a lot of drivers
↳ shithappens skylar (blondecedes on twitter) actually has a thread on it if you want to learn more, it's her pinned post
↳ ferra_ria thanks! i'll check it out for sure
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marcilazzaro1 posted on her story!
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liked by lance_stroll, estebanocon and others
marcilazzaro1 Singapore, you've been good - p1 and p4 for the team ;) Congratulations on your podium landonorris !
tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lance_stroll, estebanocon, yukitsunoda0511, landonorris
see all comments...
charlie_sun did yuki take you to the restaurant?
↳ marcilazzaro1 yes! it was really lovely
yukitsunoda0511 we need to do this more often
↳marcilazzaro1 for sure! just name the time and place ;)
quickstappen yuki looks so cute!!
shithappens she's back in the paddock!! mother's back in the paddock
redmilton_ i like this new post aesthetic, very cinematic
↳ redclerc reputation era?? ↳ redmilton_ who knows, maybeeee
landonorris P2 babyy
lewishamilton It's good to see you back
↳ marcilazzaro1 feeling's mutual
barbiegirl i'd just like to know how could pierre fumble so badly, like dude, she's perdect basically
pierrespookie ugh, you're still here? i thought she quit.
nyoomf1 new lance content! hell yeah!
↳ strollingaway i didn't know they were friends??
↳ nyoomf1 same, looks like they started hanging out after her and pierre broke up 🤷 tbf i don't really care, i'm just happy we're getting the content
↳ strollingaway fair.
madi_races can't wait for the media content from this weekend, it's gonna be great i can feel it
↳ darth_nando it's gonna be elite, marci told me herself
carlando333 no carlos mention? 👀
↳ shithappens sorry, are you blind? he's literally in the pictures
↳ barbiegirl she's also not a carlos fan page, official ferrari account already congratulated him
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marcilazzaro1 posted a story!
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"Quali-tea Time with Sarah Scott (Ferrari's secret weapon with Marceline)"
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madi's radio: pt.3 is finally here, sorry for the long wait, 4th is already in the works so hopefully it'll be a shorter wait ;) i actually planned to put more into this part but,,, 30 pics limit.
(also, valentines coming up, i was thinking of doing short sepcials if i have the time, if i do, which drivers would you like to see?)
taglist: @sunny44 @rockyhayzkid @biancathecool @unluckyyoshi @woozarts @janeholt3
click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!
DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!
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thezombieprostitute · 4 months ago
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Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen
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Summary: It's your first week on the job and you find yourself having to deal with a very angry higher up.
Warnings: Power imbalance, Yelling. Please let me know if I missed any.
Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
Part 1.5 (Lloyd's Perspective)
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You'd survived your first week at the job. It was a nerve-wracking to find out you were the only woman working in the IT department outside of Mr. Pine's assistant. Thankfully the majority of your coworkers were friendly without being inappropriate or condescending. So far you were able to just sit at your desk and do you work.
There's a knock on your cubicle wall and you look up to see Johnny standing there.
“Hey, I need you to take a ticket for me,” he tells you. “I'd do it but I just got pinged by the security measures and that takes priority. Ticket is Hansen-4142. Thanks so much!” Before you can argue he's gone.
Shaking your head you check the ticket. Johnny's not wrong that security takes highest priority and it's not unheard of for technicians to trade tickets. Looking through things it's pretty straightforward. This Hansen person likely tried to update some of the office software and the update messed with their current settings. You get his office number, double check the building floor-plans so you don't get lost, and head up.
Getting off the elevator at his floor the atmosphere is incredibly tense. People are keeping their heads down and trying to make themselves as small as possible. As you get closer to Mr. Hansen's office, you start to understand why. His voice carries and he's clearly very, very angry.
By the time you're right outside his office you're visibly shaking. Part of you wants to run back to the safety of your cubicle and beg one of the bosses to choose someone else. But that wouldn't be professional. It's only your first week, you need to do this and prove yourself to be a good hire. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you knock on the door.
“Get in here!” Mr. Hansen barks.
You open the door, “hello, Mr. Hansen. I'm, um, I'm from IT to fix your computer?”
“Yeah, I figured that,” he bites back. “No one else would be dumb enough to knock on the damn door.”
You nod at his reasoning, “may, I...may I see your computer, Sir?”
He chortles, “It's about damn time the IT department hired someone who knows their place.”
He moves away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. Not wanting to be here any longer than you need, you immediately set about to working. No chit-chat, nothing to give him a reason to yell again. You find yourself getting into the zone, hunting down the needed files, ignoring everything extraneous, and making the changes that are needed.
You think you got everything so you get out of the chair, “please make sure everything is working correctly, Mr. Hansen?”
He gives you a skeptical look as he sits, “that was way too fast to have worked.” You lower your chin to your chest but don't protest. You hear him typing and clicking away for a minute or so. “Huh,” you hear from him. “You're a friggin' maestro.” His tone is more contemplative than anything.
“Do you need anything else, Sir?”
He looks up and seems surprised you're still there. “No. You may go back to the IT caverns.”
Not needing to be told twice you nod and head out. When you're back in the department you see Mr. Syverson and he calls you over.
“Where ya been? Was wantin' to ask you about some of the upcoming projects we got ya assigned to.”
“Oh, Johnny asked me to handle a ticket for him because a security issue came up.”
He freezes at that. “Was it with Hansen?”
“Um, yes, Sir.” You see his face turn red and you're worried you did something wrong.
He takes a breath, “you're not in trouble. You're gonna go finish out that ticket like you're supposed to and I'll talk to you about the projects tomorrow.” You nod and almost run to your cubicle. Behind you, Syverson yells, “Storm! My office! NOW!”
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Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
Part 1.5 (Lloyd's Perspective)
Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly
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