#if I can make the bed I can have a small bowl of weed and maybe. maybe that'll help
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𝐁𝐅𝐁, 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧



PART TWO ⋆. 𐙚 ˚
SUMMARY you've had a crush on your best friends older brother for at least three years now. but he's always been so far out of reach that the thought of the two of you together just sounded wrong to others. for starters, he's three years older than you. and while that isn't a problem now that you're 19 and hes 22, which is not illegal, it was always a problem at the beginning of your crush. another bump in the road happens to be the fact that you're a pogue, and not just any pogue, john b routledge's twin sister. it wasn't necessarily his distaste for pogues though, it was more of a reputation thing. but after a party one night, maybe he can put his reputation aside.
previous part, next part (coming soon), series masterlist
warnings: suggestive jokes, slight age gap, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed






sarah.cam ugh ur so cute
↳ yn_routledge stop playing boy i will kiss tf outta you😭😭😭
↳ jbroutledge 😒😒
↳ yn_routledge boy shut tf up
kiecarreraaa my top in the 4th slide 🤨
↳ yn_routledge whT top? 😅😅
rafecameron7 i like your shorts
↳ yn_routledge i like your wallet that payed for them🙂↕️
jaymaybank69 🔥🔥🔥
↳ yn_routledge npc
jbroutledge trigger warning next time pls
↳ yn_routledge we're twins and somehow ur still uglier! stop talking boi 😐↔️

you dragged yourself out of bed, stretching and rubbing your eyes groggily as a yawn escaped your lips. you'd started to all the boy's i've loved before when you woke up, your tv volume low. your personality didnt really match the way you adored romance. you didn't seem like the type of girl to enjoy cheesy rom coms or a good romance novel. but you loved all of it, yearning for love yourself, wondering when one day your peter kavinsky would come around.
it did become exhausting at times, being the only single one out of your friends. you were constantly 7th wheeling, and it wasn't like you were going to meet anybody on this tiny ass island where everyone knew everyone and was either literally insufferable, or only wanted one thing.
you looked around the room, spotting your overused bong and lighter that was nearly out of juice and sitting at the small desk in your room. this was an often reoccuring morning ritual for you, one of the only perks about having no parents was your dad never complaining about the smell. your mother was never even around long enough to have to witness it.
you got out your bag of weed, placing the buds in the grinder and twisting it as your eyes trained on the tv, the fan in your room blowing on you occasionally as it was on rotate.
suddenly your door flew open, making your skeleton jump out of your skin. you turned around to see a laughing jj. "dude what the fuck is wrong with you, don't just barge in my room like that." he continued laughing, sitting on the edge of your bed as his eyes moved to the weed on your desk. "no invite? this is tragic."
you rolled your eyes, packing the grinded weed into bowl piece. "i didn't even know you were here, i've literally barely opened my eyes." the lighter, now in between your fingers, burnt the plant as you sucked the smoke, clearing it quickly and passing him the glass piece. "yeah well i came here unnanounced looking for your brother. twinkies here, bro is nowhere to be found."
"probably with sarah. pretty sure they had plans on the beach today." he took his hit, passing it back to you. "wanna pull up on them?"
you shook your head, putting the lighter to the glass again. as you spoke again, the smoke flowed out of your mouth, filling the air with the foggy scent of burnt weed. "nah. its my grocery day, plus i have to clean this dirty ass house cus i lost a bet with john b."
"i can go to the grocery store with you if you want. aint got shit to do today." you shrugged. "alright. but you are not driving anywhere and i am dead serious."
"bruh thats not fair. yn, i am a god when it comes to driving high-" "jj please shut up. i'd rather surgically remove my own eardrums than hear any of your crazy high driving stories where you 'almost died' that i've heard a million times." he rolled his eyes. "whatever."
the two of you ripped the bong a few more times, before you kicked him out of your room so you could get ready. you didn't do much, just threw on a hoodie that you'd stolen from your brother and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair going into two braids.
the grocery trip was easy, and after the two of you went back to the chateu and stocked the fridge, you cleaned up quickly and ultimately decided to leave again and sneak up on sarah and john b.
you climbed out of the drivers seat of the twinkie, parked next to sarah's car which was easy to spot due to the stickers on the back window, climbing out and easily finding spotting them.
"no invite?" you shouted, making your way to your brother, your large t-shirt the only thing over your bathing suit as you walked up to him. he turned around to the sound of your voice, crossing his arms. "my apologies for wanting to spend quality time with my girlfriend."
you rolled your eyes, noticing that sarah's brother and a few of his kook friends were there. "you didn't invite me because rafe is here, actually. i'm not stupid."
"well you can't keep your mouth shut when he's around, i didn't want to deal with you being thirsty." laying your towel on the sand and sitting on it, you looked up at your brother, one eye squinted and your hand hovering just above your eyebrows to block the sun from your eyes. "i don't know if i should be offended or honored that you think i have the confidence to be as annoying about him in person as i am over messages."
john b opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything jj finally caught up, uninvitedly sitting on your towel, a bit of sand kicking its way onto you. "what are we talking about?"
you swatted at his shoulder. "you just got sand all over me, so i'm gonna leave you two and go find my perfect angel babygirl sarah." you didn't wait for a response, standing up and making your way to sarah.
"well hi! what are you doing here?" she said, abandoning her conversation with rafe who now stood there awkwardly. "jj decided to bug me so i made him go to the grocery store with me and we got bored."
"well i wanted to invite you but your brother said no." you scoffed lightheartedly. "whatever. i don't like him anyways." you peered your head around her, eyes on rafe for a moment before looking back at sarah. "didn't mention this beefcake was gonna be here." you were just far enough for him to not hear you, thankfully because after your rewatch of your favorite rom-com this morning, you were not in the mood to get subtly rejected.
"beefcake? oh my god, yn you actually make me sick." you giggled softly. "i can't help it. look at him." you said, sticking your hand out to gesture toward him. "trust me honey, i have. its not pleasent and i honestly don't know what you see but whatever floats your boat i guess."
"hater." you mumbled. "well, there is a bonfire tomorrow at the boneyard. maybe you could come and get some action or something to get you to shut up about my brother!"
you pressed your lips together, tilting your head. "no way in hell i'm coming to a party. you know me, i don't even know why you asked that." she crossed her arms. "come on, you're the only one of us that isn't going. and you could actually have fun for once in your life instead of rotting away in the chateu and smoking weed for a living. plus, rafe will be there. i know i said get over him but i'm trying to think of reasons to get you to come."
"okay first of all, i do have fun. my binge watching keeps me entertained, and i'd literally rather die than-" "socialize? yeah we know. you're like rapunzel if she willingly hid in her tower."
suddenly rafe walked over, his attention completely on sarah, not even acknowledging your existence, but still technically speaking to you once he opened his mouth. "top's having me run to the store to get some beer and shit. either of y'all want anything?"
"um... can you get me a pack of high noon? and jj's probably gonna want white claw. can you get twisted tea too? and possibly a watermelon smash buzz ball if you're feeling generous pretty please." sarah listed. you didn't add anything, knowing you'll happily drink a twisted tea or a high noon.
rafe lifted his hand, sticking his pointer finger up. "wait wait wait, slow down." he started, his head shaking back and forth. "i'm not gonna remember all of that shit, dude." sarah sighed, turning to you. "yn will remember. have her go with you, she can help you carry all the shit back too."
you widened your eyes. sarah didn't necessarily love your obsession with her brother, yet she seemed to egg it on in moments like this. "um, i'm good where i'm at thanks."
"come on. i'm gonna need help anyways, and i'd rather not go alone." you also didn't expect rafe to push you further. "um, okay, i guess." you gave sarah a look that said 'i'm gonna kill you', before walking off, trailing behind rafe.
of course you didn't mind being around rafe. if anything you loved it. but being alone with him made you nervous. you barely knew the guy, and there wasn't much to talk about between the king of the kooks and a regular old pogue.
you informed jj and john b that you were leaving, following rafe to his truck awkwardly and climbing in silently. as bold as you were at times, you felt insanely weird being with him alone. "what store are we going to?" you asked, pulling the seatbelt over your torso and strapping it in.
he began pulling backward out of his parking spot, his hand on the back of your seat as he turned around to look behind him. god he was such a slut. "that corner store near the wreck." he responded, settling back into his seat and pulling off.
the ride was silent for a moment, but not comfortable silence. the kind of silence that was so deafening that it drove you insane. so you broke the silence, noticing the aux cord sticking out from his radio. "can i play music?" you asked, not waiting for a response and grabbing the cord, plugging it into your phone.
he sighed. "not if you're gonna play some girly shit like taylor swift or something." "okay first of all, have you met me?"
he chuckled lightly as you put your playlist on shuffle, 'slut era interlude' by rolemodel playing. after a few moments, you noticed rafe mumbling along to the lyrics. your eyebrows raised, shifting your body to face toward him slightly. "you know this?"
he nodded. "toppers girlfriend listens to this guy sometimes when shes in charge of the music. its alright." "you strike me as like.. a tyler the creator kind of guy."
"don't get me wrong, i love tyler too." you laughed softly, facing forward again and attempting not to stare at him. "favorite song?" you questioned.
he thought for a second. "probably lumberjack." "no way, thats my favorite tyler song too. see, we're perfect for each other." you couldn't help but flirt with him. i mean come on, you're alone in a car with rafe cameron. who wouldn't flirt.
he rolled his eyes, but unexpectedly decided to play into it. "right. whats your ring size again?" you chuckled. "no clue, actually. i like diamonds, though."
he soon pulled into the store, climbing out of the truck. "you coming?" you didn't answer, making your way out. once you were inside, he immediately went to the alcohol. "what the fuck did sarah want again?"
"a pack of high noon, white claw, twisted tea and a watermelon buzz ball. not that hard to remember buddy." he grabbed a pack of twisted tea, tucking it under his arm. "yeah, couldn't remember all of that shit even if i recited it out loud several times before i came."
"okay so, twisted tea," he said, grabbing a pack of white claw next. "white claw.. what else?" you grabbed a pack of high noon from the other side of the aisle. "and a watermelon buzz ball." you mumbled, grabbing it and tossing it to him. he caught it with his free hand. "a'ight, lets go."
you made your way to the checkout, the cashier eyeing the both of you as he scanned the stuff. after a moment, he spoke up. "you guys together?" your eyes shot up, shaking your head. such an odd question to blatantly ask. "please. he wishes." you joked, knowing the reality was the complete opposite.
he looked at you, furrowing his eyebrows as he got his wallet out. "really? i'm not the one who-" you cut him off abruptly, not wanting your business spilled. "ookay! give the poor man your ID, i'm sure he could care less about my actions." you forced an awkward chuckle, blush creeping onto your cheeks as he sighed, handing the man his identification before swiping his card.
you guys made it back to the truck in no time. "you coming to the boneyard tomorrow.?" you shook your head immediately, lifting one of your legs to your chest and resting your chin on it. "absolutely not. i don't do parties, i have a hot date with my bong and grey's anatomy."
he grimaced. "that show is ass." you scoffed, whipping your head toward him. "excuse me rafe cameron, i will not take such disrespect towards that masterpiece."
"masterpiece? its a billion seasons of like.. nothing. should've been cancelled years ago." you let out a breath through your nose. "okay, the newer seasons are bad. but the show is good, i don't care."
"whatever you say bro." it was silent for a minute, another awkward tension filled few miles, until he pulled into the beach. "you should come to the boneyard tomorrow. it'll be fun. sarah says you never get out of the house anyway."
"oh sarah was spreading my business! cute!" you were honestly surprised that rafe of all people was the one trying to push you to go, and even making you consider it. "tempting." you said sarcastically. "but i'd rather get run over!"
you climbed out of the car, thinking about it for a minute. it couldn't be that bad, could it? i mean, rafe will be there. except, you didn't really know how to talk to him. its not like he ever flirted back with you anyways, at this point it was only a humerous bit you did because you knew it aggravated your friends.
but it could be nice to socialize. and as you walked back, a bag in each hand, you realized it might actually be fun

v speaks: made yall wait almost a month and then gave u an awful little bunch of words i apologize💔 ive been so busy and then i had the flu for a week, and my writers block was SOOO bad i promise i'll be better in the next part i put this off for so long i was trying to get it over with guys😭 alsooo i will be using sophia birlems photos as y/n but, you can imagine her however you please!
taglist: @my-name-is-baby @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @hypnotizedstarkey
#drew starkey#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smau#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey au#drew starkey smau#drew starkey x oc#obx#obx x reader#outer banks
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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (x) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9
matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader
summary : after three resentful weeks apart, only matt and y/n could find themselves more fond of each other.
warnings : angst, fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread
mickey speaks : THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE SWEET ANGELS HERE’S THE 10TH PART FOR YOU!!! tgwtt is already in double digits 🥹 only like 8 more parts to go
THIS IS PART TEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE!!!
"COME on y/n we'll have so much fun!"
you haven't had a night out in weeks.
following matt's party, you swore off alcohol until your own birthday in mid-september, afraid of the amount you'd allow yourself to consume now that you're feelings are supremely hurt and bitterness coated your tongue.
it was difficult to turn down the first week, despite the smell and taste of any drink making your stomach turn you craved the drunken effect and secretly wanted to run into matt- just to see what he'd have the nerve to say to you. but the mature, wiser part of your brain knows there is nothing good to come from spiteful drinking. so you've declined every weekend.
you know in your heart that your friends only want you to feel good and have fun with them. it's the only reason you've tolerated this current conversation for so long.
"i believe you! but i'm just saying i'll have just as much fun with this bowl of strawberries and my bed," you reach into a cabinet for one of the many off-white glass bowls.
"baby you haven't been out with us in so long, we miss you!" remi beams kicking her legs as she sits atop your counter, fully dressed and decorated for her night out (contrasting the bare face, oversized tee, and panties you wear).
you sigh and look over to the three girls huddled in your kitchen, "no, you guys know 'm not drinking right now," you shake your head and push off of the counter heading towards the fridge in search of your berries.
"i'm just confused on why you're suddenly so strict on drinking? and regardless of the drinking you could have fun without it if you loosen up a bit..." erin replies while resting her body against the wall next to remi's spot.
you roll your eyes while your face is still in your fridge before shutting it back, "i don't understand what's not clicking erin, i don't want to go out at all! i want to stay at home and be away from drunk people and watch something brainless and then i wanna go take a fucking bath. i'm so tired of having to explain and repeat myself. please go, please have a good time, and please- respectfully, mind your business."
you run water over your strawberries and andrea's eyes widen as she turns back towards the counter to pour herself another shot.
"alright, whatever.” erin shakes her head, “dre, remi, i'm gonna go wait outside this is annoying. she can stay bitter," she walks out and whispers, "bitch," under her breath before shutting the door.
it's silent for a second as you begin to harshly cut the stems off of the fruit, remi comes behind you and wraps a caring arm over your shoulder for a hug, "are you okay?"
"yes, i'm fine, you can go have fun..." you turn to face her and offer a strawberry.
"i really do miss you,” you kisses your shoulder and bites into the strawberry, “love you," she reminds you as she grabs her bag and dismisses herself to check with erin. you nod your head and continue to stare blankly as you repeatedly cut.
andrea speaks up after hearing the door fully shut. she breathes heavily as she stares down at her hands on the counter, "cariña ("honey"), you’re not a bitch.”
“i know…” your voice is small.
“i know you do. i also know something’s hurting you badly right now and i selfishly wish you’d fucking tell me so i could help.” she licks her glossed lips, “but as long as you’re being kind to yourself, i can deal with you keeping this to yourself.”
your eyes brim with salty tears and when you let out a broken sniffle she's immediately by your side. "nooo don’t cry, i’m already pre-drunk! you know i will too!" you try to continue preparing your fruit but andrea turns your body to make room for a warm hug. you're quick to tuck your face into her perfumed neck and let out your feelings through cry's.
you had always thought that what andrea (or anyone) didn't know about your sex life with matt wouldn't kill her, but quite frankly it's killing you. you want to tell her everything he’s ever made you feel- for all andrea knows matt was once a silly crush and currently a little less than a friend to you.
but at the same time you just know she would tell you to stop seeing him if she knew everything. she would remind you that at your core you are far too caring and attached to handle recurring casual sex with him in the first place.
"i'm so sorry, drea. i really wanna tell you but i’m not ready." you croak pitifully.
not ready to accept the embarrassment of wanting him to like you this bad.
and for someone as willingly vulnerable as you, you’re especially not ready to hear her scold you a little for somehow hurting your own feelings and putting your friendship with erin on a thin line over some guy.
your words only confuse her brain more, but she can only continue to rub circles into your back and silently pray you didn’t do something illegal or, like, morally cruel.
౨ৎ
matt would love to say he hasn’t thought about you since you bitched out on him the night of his birthday, but he could never just blatantly lie.
he can say he has gone the past few weeks without reaching out to you- which mostly speaks to both of your stubbornness and pride.
in fact, you’re part of his reason for having his own night in tonight- though it’s far less sadistic of a reason than yours. he’s simply grown bored of the repetitive night life he and his friends have.
you were always there for him to tease and secretly fuck around with whenever your friend groups would combine for the night. but as of late he’s left sitting at the bar swigging down beers and scrolling on his phone (sometimes he’d get irrationally irritated at you for not posting on your instagram or snapchat stories, feeling a as if it was a direct punishment to remove him from knowing any details about your life) or until the rest of the group throw the towel in.
on the worst and most irritating of nights he’ll take an uber home by himself. and those were the nights he would get so close to being irrational- showing up to your house and confronting you was oh so enticing. but he’d talk himself out of it and go home to fuck his fist like you’d probably tell him to do.
and on the most horny and pathetic of nights he'd end up in the backseat of his car finger-fucking erin with her tongue in his mouth. it ended at that though, matt's skin started to crawl thinking of when you rode him in the front seat not too long ago. he had pinched his eyes shut and pulled erin's hands away from his zipper, swaying her with some sweet "i just wanted to make you feel good s’all" and a kiss before she left and he awkwardly drove himself home- pondering how little self control he had to be desperate enough to do even get that far.
so, he didn’t even bother to go out tonight. when chris and nick asked him through his closed door, he told them he’ll stay in for some “peace and quiet.” really, he just couldn’t stand to be disappointed by the guaranteed lack of you being there.
he sits in his desk chair, legs spread casually, and sketchbook held against his thigh as he scribbles around to formulate a few rough outlines for upcoming clients. somewhere in the mix he begins to sketch out a familiar cartoon cat, which only irritates him and makes him close the book abruptly, shoving it into his desk’s drawer.
matt rubs his hands over his face a few times and lifts himself from the chair, heading straight for his bedside table. he bites at his lips while digging through the drawer, eventually finding the pretty red hot blunt you rolled and gifted him.
he makes his way out to the patio, not bothering to turn the outdoor lights on; blunt, lighter, and phone in tow. he slouches into one of the many chairs near the glass door and places the blunt between his lips, shuffling as he digs in his back pocket for his lighter.
the spark of the bright flame highlights his focused face for only a few seconds while he pricks the end of the misshapen yet smoothly rolled blunt. he breathes in the smoke immediately, throwing the lighter onto a table nearby. he tilts his backwards to blow out swirls of smoke above him.
matt initially wants to wait to call you until he feels high enough, mostly to give him an excuse for calling in the first place because he knows you’ll be expecting one. but he can't fucking wait, he wants to know what you're doing right now.
matt continues to effortlessly inhale and exhale several hits as he searches his phone for your contact.
his thumb hovers over the dull button that would change a lot for him. calling you means looking like a dumbass, as if he can't handle not knowing you (apparently he can’t but he wouldn’t admit to it). calling you means he’s breaking this implied break up- for complete lack of better terms.
but who’s to say you’ll even answer and give him a chance to do any of that? and suddenly his phone is vibrating in his hand as he raises it to his ear.
it takes four rings for you to answer, though you're completely silent on the other end. he waits and you wait. he truly didn’t think this far ahead. you only give him a few extra seconds to be silent before you hang up all together.
matt kisses his teeth and redials. when you eventually answer again he speaks through the smoke in his lungs, "hi. why'd you hang up?"
"matt, don't call my phone and expect me to speak to you first." your voice has a bite to it that still surprises matt a little. it's so infrequent for you to be harsh or upset (as long as matt has known you, you've been nothing but cheerful and well… sunny) that it's oddly pleasant to see how you handle negative emotions- it reminds him that you’re not always good, something he’d always weirdly envied about you.
he releases more smoke in the air around him, "my bad, sweetheart."
"just tell me why you’re calling. are you drunk or ...?"
"no. i just wanted to know what you're doing."
you sigh heavily, "why does that concern you...?"
his eyes pinch as he stares out into the dark backyard, "why're you bein' so difficult? 'm just trying t-"
"matt. get there, please." you rush, though you secretly are enjoying hearing his voice and the romanticized idea that he must care a little if he’s reaching out again.
“yeah.” he takes a breath, “i don’t know. i’m just, like, here…by myself, and i wanted to remember what you sounded like.”
you smirk to yourself but drop it immediately, “okay…well, this is what i sound like.”
“yes, so soothing, i could fall asleep right here,” you can hear him audibly stretch.
“oh, i’m putting you to sleep?” you tease.
“yeah, i need you to come over and wake me up,” he inhales once more.
you’re silent and he breathes out again, “fuck was that too much- i’m sorry.”
“definitely. i need you to calm down, sir.”
“oh i’m so calm, baby,” he moans out playfully.
“matt, i’ll hang up-”
“woah! let’s not make such rash decisions?!”
“okay then.”
“thank you for answering,” his voice is muffled, “you could’ve blocked me- i talked to you so crazy that night and i do feel bad about, i want you to know.” he pauses and you silently process as he continues to compliment you, “you’re the only woman besides, like, my mother, who is just classy as fuck and way too kind to everyone whether they deserve it or not.”
you could never have expected to hear any words of admiration from matt in regards to you. “oh my god, are you near a couple of trees right now? how’d you get so sappy all of a sudden?”
matt takes a second to register your joke before his entire face crinkles and he shakes his head, giggling, “bad joke. such a bad joke.”
you let yourself laugh a little as well before pulling together, “thank you for apologizing, i honestly didn’t expect that from you.”
“well i don’t hand them out like that so i guess you’re lucky or something.”
“i guess i am…” you smile into your words a little.
“what have you been doing?”
“like the past few weeks or right now?”
“i was talking about right now but you can say both.”
“just was checking! i don’t want to talk to much, i know you’d hate to listen to it.”
“heyyy! really? throwin’ some shit i just told you i didn’t mean right in my face like that?”
“i’m sorry i had to!”
“you were holding on to that one, huh?”
“just a little.”
“okay, tell me everything and i’ll listen.”
“i know i made it seem like i’ve been doing a lot but i’ve honestly just been working a bunch. it’s not as much of a nightmare as it sounds though- working long shifts has helped me fall asleep quicker. i’ve also started cooking a lot more whenever im bored which andrea looooves. and… um, right now i’m taking a bath.”
matt’s eyes widen and he chuckles, “dammit! i knew i should’ve facetimed instead!”
you bite your lip to hold back a laugh yourself, “what are you doing, matt?”
“guess.”
“i mean, i know you’re smoking but you could be in a random bedroom at a party or like, at some other bitch’s house…i don’t know, i’m just guessing!”
“never that,” he laughs- which you can’t decipher as a sarcastic or genuine one -and explains further, “‘m at home, outside with that perfect little blunt you made.”
“oh, for real?”
“uh huh, she’s treating me real good.”
“i’m glad. can you finish telling me how you’ve been?”
“yeah, um-”
“mattttt!” a very drunk nick suddenly yells while sliding open the glass door.
matt literally jumps and is immediately annoyed, you can hear it in his voice despite it being muffled now, “dude, you scared the shit out of me! what do you need?”
“hello to you too, ugh, i forgot you’re all moody right now. what are you even doing it’s all dark and shit?” nick hangs on the door has he peeks outside.
matt gets up to close the door again, “mind your business, nick. move, you’re in the way.”
“hmm, you are so weird.” nick squints his eyes and turns away yelling chris’ name in a blood curdling scream (for absolutely no reason besides the fact that he thought it’d be funny to see chris drunkenly run into the living room).
“hey, you still there?”
“mhm, yes”
“nick and chris just got back from the bar so i’ll have to help them chill out, um, yeah. i wanna hang out again. not even just to fuck if you aren’t cool with that yet, if we can be friends around our friends we can be friends by ourselves.”
friends? you and matt? hm. “that’d be nice, do you wanna just come over like usual?”
“i mean i could but we can do whatever you want, seems like you’ve been home a lot so, you know.” his voice gets more distracted as he speaks
“okay, i’ll let you know. good night.”
“sounds good, sweetheart.”
౨ৎ
MATT - 6:30 PM
Are you done yet?
Y/N - 6:52 PM
yes i’m coming now
-
“i’m sorry again for keeping you so late y/n, you really didn’t have to stay and help me close!” your coworker, angela, beams as she follows you out of the back door with a trash bag.
“don’t worry about it,” you smile to her as you walk with her to the large dumpster on the side of the building.
she throws a bag the size of her torso into the bin with a mumble of ‘ew’ before turning to you, “don’t say that! i know you have that date thing tonight, i don’t want you to be late.”
“i told you it’s not a date! we’re hanging out as friends.”
she rolls her eyes while putting her travel sized hand sanitizer back into her purse, “y/n don’t start with that…it’s totally a date from what you’ve told me.”
you both continue to walk towards the back parking lot,“trust me, he’s made it clear he’s not that kind of guy.”
“then why waste your time?”
right when you go to defend yourself you hear a car door shut, drawing your attention to the man of the hour, who’s locking the doors of his sleek black suv as his jaw works a minty piece of gum.
his black tee exposes his tattoos and his jean shorts are held up with his favorite black belt. you can see his light eyes are squinted due to the sun’s undying brightness from where you stand.
angela turns to you with a full smirk and softly slaps your arm, whispering and giggling, “girl, he’s hot!”
“oh my god!” you have an uncontrollable smile as you look at her, “stop it!” you look over again and this time matt is leaning against his car, ready to catch your eye and send you a wave of his fingers with his eyebrows raised.
you wave back then turn away once more, “‘kay i should probably go but i’ll see you wednesday, right?” you lean in for a hug.
“yes i’ll be here,” she smiles into the embrace as you kiss into the air to the side of her head, “you’ll have to give me all the deets!”
“mhm,” you hum as you both part ways, “bye ang!”
you approach matt without any rush and he takes the time to gaze over your complexion (far more radiant than the last time he’d seen you) and the way your mini jean skirt compliments the blushed red top you’re wearing. “hi sunny,” he grins and reaches a hand out to bring you into a hug, only for you to set the handle of your small purse in it. he kisses his teeth playfully, “it’s still like that, huh?”
“like what?” you condescendingly look up at him.
“alright, girl,” he dismisses, “where are we goin?“
“it’s a surprise for a reason matt!”
“okay… then i’m assuming you’ll drive?”
“not exactly..” you spin on your heel and walk away from him as a hint to follow you.
he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk down the busy sidewalk, he gives a couple of glances down at your phone while also navigating the two of you. “metro?” he reads aloud.
“mhm,” you reply and smile to yourself while adding the tickets to your apple wallet.
“wow, you really planned this shit out.”
“i’ve never half-assed something in my life,” you say as you both stop at a cross walk.
“never? you have a brother, right?” he asks and you nod, “i’m sure he’d be able to come up with something.”
“probably,” you shrug and grab his wrist when the walking sign lights. “we’re gonna make it just in time, the bus comes at 7:10.”
౨ৎ
the seating on the bus is comfortably squished; you sit in the window seat and matt next to you, moving his limbs inward to give room to those walking in the isle.
you reapply a faded shade of red, black cherry to your lips while using your phone camera. matt watches with his lips pursed in awe. “that shade looks nice on you,” he says softly.
you’re already feeling giddy internally and he’s forcing you to blow your unbothered cover at this point, “thank you,” you smile and turn to see him already close to your face, looking at your eyes then lips. you just have to close the space by giving him a small kiss, mumbling, “it looks good on you too, see,” you move your phone so that he can see his lips outlined with the stain of you.
he laughs and pouts his lips while checking himself out in your camera, making the risky move to take a photo of himself, before giving your cheek a kiss.
౨ৎ
“jesus, for forty fucking minutes you better have brought me to an all inclusive resort!” matt complains while dramatically stretching his back.
the sun was now peeking down and the flashing lights of santa monica pier were extra enticing. “stop, we’re gonna have so much fun! look!” you point at the energetic strip with a childish grin.
“alright, let’s go then,” he tilts his head towards the fair.
౨ৎ
“definitely could have gone without that last ride- wayyy too many dips,” matt holds his stomach dramatically.
“i could tell, you were screamin’ like crazy,” you smirk as the two of you stand in the line at one of the many food trucks. two hours into being there and you’ve rode almost all of the rides, it was expected for matt to ask to stop for some sort of food eventually.
“barely.” he rolls his eyes, “what do you want?”
“i’ll have a water and one of those bomb pops,” you tell him.
“that’s not really food, are you gonna be good with that for right now?” he clarifies.
“yes, matt. thank you,” you smile and matt waves you off as he approaches the tall window to order.
“hey, what’s up man? i’ll just have a water, one of those fourth of july a bomb pops, medium fry and a modelo in a can please,” he flashes a smile and pays quickly.
you thank him and the cashier as you take hold of the items you asked for. “can we go walk on the beach?” you ask him.
“yeah, it’ll be dark as shit, but yeah,” he responds lightly and shoves a few fries into his mouth.
౨ৎ
“when i was younger my mom would bring me and my brother to the pier every summer since i was seven maybe?” the waves crash softly in the background as matt lays between your legs, despite the scratchy denim of your skirt. “when i was eleven my brother would want to go off with his friends in high school and my mom wasn’t a fan of the rides, so she would bring me to walk on the beach with her instead.” you recall out loud after matt had asked what made you want to come here today.
“mmm, reminds me of east coast beaches when i was a kid. we’d make a whole day out of it and pack up my mom’s minivan.” you stretch his scalp hypnotically, “just being rowdy and annoying as hell on the ride there and sleeping on the way back. being a kid is, like, the best and we never realize it when we’re there.”
“isn’t it kind of sweet that we don’t? kids don’t even understand the concept of missing childhood or being nostalgic until they’re older. if eight year old me were constantly dwelling on what’s passed i know she’d go insane. i mean, even now, everyone is always chasing previous feelings and never fully in tune with the one present.” you look out at the waves that softly build up and crash repeatedly.
matt licks his lips and opens his eyes, sitting up from your lap, “holy shit, sunny,” he kisses you and pulls away to laugh, “you just made me sound like a dumbass.”
he keeps a hold of your face, “matt you’re not dumb, everyone is nostalgic for something,” you kiss him again to seal your words.
matt pulls away and you stands up and begin to remove your shirt leaving you in a lacy bra, “come on,” you tilt your head and matt immediately stands up to cover you.
“the fuck do you mean, ‘come on’?” he starts to laugh while looking around for anyone around.
you roll your eyes at his protection and unbutton your skirt, “take a dip with me.”
“no?! y/n, that water is freezing...”
you pull down your pants to reveal a small pair of matching lacy panties that matt can barely see in the dark but he just knows would send him over the edge.
“matttt,” you pout and bring his hands to your exposed ass, lifting his chin to capture his lips in your own, “please?” you look up at him.
he pinched his eyes shut, “baby, put your clothes back on…”
“alright be lame,” you take his hands off of you and run into the empty beach with a freeing laugh.
matt stands there, not wanting to yell and draw attention to you both, but also not wanting to freeze to death.
“matt! the water’s not even that cold, come here!” you exclaim, wading in the shallow water.
“no, i’ll just wait here until you’re done cooling off…”
“matt, please! what if i-” you pretend to fall backwards and start to fake a drowning scene that has him undressing to his boxers quickly.
he ignores the rush in his blood from the surprise of the water’s temperature in favor of getting you out of there. he calls your name over and over, the pitch black look of the ocean doing absolutely nothing to help.
he’s pretty freaked out when you come back up and jump on his back yelling, “you saved me! you saved me!” with a cackle.
matt immediately groans and slaps the water, “fuck you, why would you ever do some shit like that?!”
you giggle and he throws you off his back easily, turning around to be face to face with you as you wipe your eyes, “oh my god matt, my mascara’s gonna run!”
“maybe we should think of these things before running into the ocean?”
you stop wiping underneath your eyes to forcefully push him under the water, giggling at the sound of the crash and his “don’t-!” right before.
“no more,” he spits out water and scolds you when he comes back up, inching closer to you and holding you by your hips as you wrap your legs around his waist.
“okay,” you agree and go to kiss his wet face just as he quickly unhooks you and throws you back under.
“matt!” you squeal as you resurface to hear him laughing, “dude, i’m gonna kill you.”
“truce, truce, truce!” he repeats and backs away from you.
“yeah, you better run,” you threaten.
౨ৎ
“your eyelashes are like sooo long when they’re wet,” you compliment as you stare at matt under the moon’s light.
he pulls you closer him to stop his mouth from chattering due to the cold, “i’ll give you my lash routine,” he jokes.
“i realized something when we got off the phone the other day,” you bring up, as your eyes run over each of his facial features.
“tell me,” he rolls his icy lips into his mouth.
“i never said sorry for being nasty to you on your birthday.”
matt’s eyes squint, “it’s fine, i’m not hung up on that shit. we said we’re good, right?”
“yes, but-”
“alright then,” he shrugs and squeezes your ass in reassurance.
a smile graces your face and and you let your head fall to his shoulder, whispering, “matt…i’m cold now.”
“i’ve been waiting for you to say that, oh my god!”
౨ৎ
you both suffer as you put your clothes back on over your wet skin. you’re both chattering messes and simply cannot stop laughing about it as you make your way back to the boardwalk’s strip of raging bright lights.
you don’t get far before you’re begging matt to win you an oversized faux fur leopard print coat, “it’s just what i need, please!”
and he’s spent almost two twenties replaying this stupid game over and over again. you’re a pretty good cheerleader though.
“come on matt, you got it this time! no pressure! it’s only like i’m dying of hypothermia!” he deadpans as he looks over to you, “what?”
it was a simple game of ring toss- that was most definitely rigged, but besides you reminding him this and saying you didn’t need the coat that much, the stand runner’s comments doubting matt was enough to fuel him to continue playing until he wins.
and somehow he tosses the perfect ring, watching it land and swivel around the bottle in victory. you both outwardly celebrate with screams and a very public kiss, that the two of you just can’t stop sharing today.
“congratulations,” the employee boredly says.
“thank you sir, thank you.” matt then obnoxiously turns around and yells out a speech to the random passersby “i wanna thank my mother, my grandmother, brothers, dog, and you people for giving me this opportunity to win something so grand for my sweet sunshine!” you stop giggling to give a royal wave to the many people judging the two of you, “thank you santa monica!” he blows a kiss and you both spin around to claim your prize.
“you two are like cartoon characters,” the stand runner says. and as soon as you start to grin at him he corrects, “that wasn’t a compliment.”
“whatever man, just give the pretty girl the fucking coat,” matt blinks at him. as the man walks away to grab the fluff off of the rack a few people stop by the table and matt warns them, “if i were you i’d keep walkin’, this guy’s a first-class hater.”
you drag matt by his arm back over to you, “did you take your socially-overbearing pills today?!”
“i have no clue, i think im too cold for my brain to process embarrassment anymore.”
“here’s that coat,” the man hands you it with a shake of his head.
“thank you, sir!” you exclaim and immediately fit your arms from the sleeves, “this is everything i’ve ever wanted!” you say as your jaw goes slack.
“you look good,” matt agrees, “you also look warm, so now i’m jealous.”
“let’s go get you something warm, baby.”
౨ৎ
after a trip to a random gift shop for a hoodie, matt whined about needing real food so bad.
so the two of you stand at the hostess stand in a small mexican restaurant on the strip.
“for two?”
“yes, thank you.”
“i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, okay?” matt speaks close to your ear and you simply nod and watch him walk off.
you wait a few moments before the hostess offers to take you to your table, “did you want to go sit now or wait for your boyfriend?” she asks kindly.
you try not to make it so apparent that you enjoy the idea of you being matt’s girlfriend, “yeah, i can sit now, he’ll find me.”
౨ৎ
“i’ll have the chicken burrito please with extra rice,” matt orders as he sits across from you.
“and i’ll have the four birria tacos please,” you hand her the menu kindly.
you both are bundled up ridiculously with frizzy hair and barely-dry clothes, you’re surprised anyone agreed to serve you.
“alright, that should be out shortly!”
when she walks away matt asks, “why didn’t you get a drink? i’m just curious.”
“i swore off drinking until my birthday,” you shrug and fall back into the plush of the booth.
“mm, not smoking either?” he sips his water.
“i mean i haven’t smoked since early august but no i didn’t purposely stop.”
matt nods, “well if you were to drink, what are you ordering? i usually go for a corona but i wanna try something different.”
“oh strawberry margarita, a hundred percent. hits everytime.”
“i’ve never had a margarita so i’ll try it.”
your jaw drops, “hell yeah you’re gonna try it, i can’t believe you!”
“what can i say?” matt shrugs.
౨ৎ
matt plays with the toothpick in his mouth as you both sit in your spots for the bus ride home. he got to enjoy his first margarita and you took multiple pictures to document it, he bought you churros to go, and now you both are the most tired you’ve been in a while.
you quietly respond to texts that andrea sent you hours ago, asking what you’re doing and if you’ll be home soon, while matt lays his head on your shoulder sleepily.
eventually you shut your phone off and calmly rest your head against the chilled window for the rest of the ride.
•
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets fan fiction#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut#matt sturniolo x black!reader#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo
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smoking with tgc boys !!!

isaac, larry, bigt, yumi, and nick! <3 written while I was genuinely stoned for authenticity. jorge killed it with using the words bro and homeboy way too much 😝
mentions of . . . smoking, drug use, cuss words??? established relationship w/ reader + girl mentioned like once otherwise pretty gn. this might be a bit confusing if your a non-smoker since i wrote for a stoner!reader ( petnames used ➜ hon, babe, baby, pretty girl,)
Isaac ➜ we all know homeboy is more of a drinker. it definitely would be on a dare or bet, he would wanna prove to you he could handle his substances.
"who said i greened out after one joint?... tanner did?... he's lying, we can smoke tonight and ill show you." he would act all smug about it until he actually was face to face with the lit joint.
he would hold it like a cigarette, and when you stifle a laugh at the fact he does so- he would shrug it off while taking a loooong drag of the joint. exhaling before having a small coughing fit. you couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, his face a shade pinker after the humiliating reaction to the joint. but its Isaac- so of course he would brush it off like nothing.
"been a while since I smoked hon... maybe you should finish the rest of it." he would say nonchalantly while passing the joint back to you- insisting you have to finish it. would use the excuse 'he's doing some voiceovers for a few videos tomorrow and can't risk losing his voice.'
def vibes more with edibles. but he always takes half because thats what the back of the packaging says 😡 "why are you taking three! it says half right here!" he would then shove the packaging dramatically in your face- really he didnt want you to see how low his tolerance was and how high he got off half a 15mg edible.
would end up passing out in bed w/ you, gets sleepy especially with edibles/indica. you would mess around and tease him a bit- poking at him while joking how he cannot handle his weed. "nooo, im jus' always down for a nap with you, pretty girl..." he would mumble half asleep, voice drowsy from the high. hella affectionate when high, chronic problem with playing with your hair or like, maybe any bracelets you have on??? i hope this makes sense bro
larry ➜ isn't afraid of the idea of weed, he usually just saves it for social events. like how people are social smokers with cigarettes? larry is like that with weed.
he would get all hyped at a party after seeing you and tanner sharing a one-hitter. "bro! imma need some of that right now." he would act hella shady for comedic effect as well. taking the toke while looking around all mischievously like there was feds hiding in the crowd of the party. you and tanner were stoned- so obviously yall laugh at his antics.
bro is a menace after one hit, isnt even that high he just does it for shits and giggles. lets say nicks filming or some shit- larry is the star of the show. talking his head off in front of the camera while blowing some cart smoke right at the lens. "you see this? its y/n's pen... *takes long hit off cart*... gettin lit tonight." he would definitely hold back his coughs.
speaking of carts, larry is one of those rare mfs that prefer carts over bud. why? he thinks there more convenient- and bud always leaves his nose runny. last time you guys had a smoke sesh date he used up all your sanrio kleenex after smoking 2 bowls 😡
"weed makes my nose run babe! maybe we should've stuck to the cart..." he would say after you complained about him sniffling for the third time. while you were busy explaining why you prefer bud, he would sneakily grab your cart from your hoodie pocket and sneak a few hits. bro is ruthless when it comes to that thing 💀 if you tell him you got the pen on you he's beggin for it.
in fact larry would get a little too comfy with the cart, accidentally almost greening out at a target once when he hit it one too many times in the car. "lets just sit down..." + "on the floor?... in target?..." + "yes babe im telling you just trust me." really thought he was gonna vomit and needed an excuse to sit for a second.
bigt ➜ omg brotha was all over you when you wanted to smoke for your first date!!! he had two little rolling trays set up on his bed prepared for your smoke sesh/movie date.
low-key adorable... literally went out and bought a new one-hitter so you guys would have matching ones, they were green and had little turtles on top of them ): (isnt that so much fun) he wasn't even tryna be cheesy or anything genuinely was just very passionate about smoking. i def feel like him and yumi were smokers in high school so he knows a thing or two abt mary jane. 🤨
"after this bowl i have a gummy we can split..." his tolerance is quite high so he would wanna keep going even after like the fifth bowl. he likes to give his lungs a break though so no carts for him after like the third bowl. edibles from there on out. you know he's gonna be all weird n shit and make you guys split the edible by biting it in half. (like that lady and the tramp shittt bro.)
but at social events and parties??? he's a lot more closed off with smoking- more of a drinker at parties. if he is gonna get high he'll take an edible. "baby weed these days is crazy! I knew a guy who knew a guy who knew guy that got laced with crack!!!" yea he was being sarcastic duhhhh but he was genuinely scared of getting laced at a party.
tanner is a avid cart enthusiast tho!!! he would only use like smoke shop ones though- no street carts for tttt. he would probably prefer zaza's, hes a classic man with taste so he would prefer the cereal milk strain. carts are his go to for when hes just vibing in his room since there pretty much odorless. "I wasn't lying when I said I was smoking zaza!" finds the word zaza hilarious especially when he's stoned.
he takes maaanny tolerance breaks and would probably make you do the same. if you really struggled with staying away from weed he would make t-breaks fun or some shit. (like making a fun little tolerance break sticker chart 😩)
softwilly ➜ nick fr said 🤨 when you asked him to split a bowl with you one random friday night. he eventually agreed because you already had everything set up and he didnt wanna say no after you put all this effort into it ):
"ow! fuck... can you do the lighter babe..." needs help with the lighter, you guys were sat in kind of a awkward position smoking out of his bedroom window since he didnt want any of the guys to question anything 😒 sometimes those flames fight back with the bowls brooo. he has a playlist for smoking after that first time- it kind of becomes a tradition for you guys to try and smoke every friday/weekend (:
his tolerance is worst than isaacs bro. he’s either passed out after the second bowl or laughing at anything that moves. if you guys end up laughing too loud or just making too much noise in general he gets hyper aware about if the boys can hear all the ruckus >:( does not want your smoke sesh to be interrupted. very easily paranoid when high for sure.
he doesn’t love carts- but i mean your his weakness homeboy how can he say no to you every time you ask? “strawberry banana cart?…. fine. one hit, but just to see if it really tastes like strawberry’s and bananas.” it didn’t taste like strawberries and bananas- but he was stoned for the next thirty minutes after that (:
hates the smell of weed. he always has the windows open, a candle burning, incense burning, anything to diffuse the smell of marijuana. he’ll specifically ask you to blow the smoke towards the window- but sometimes you blow it towards the pillows on his bed… or some plushies even just to get a rise out of him. “fuck babe… now my bedrooms gonna smell like kush for a week.” + “it’s just a little smoke!” he would obviously say it sarcastically, he dgaf where you blow your smoke he just wants to be a pain in the ass for funzies.
another big believer in tolerance breaks- but he dosent even know what the fuck a t-break is. he would just tell you he’s taking a break from weed in general. homeboy is very inexperienced in the smoking department and stayed away from it until he was in his early twenties.
yumi ➜ blake definitely has the highest tolerance out of all of them, but he isn’t a raging stoner. probably prefers weed over alcohol especially at parties- has an occasional joint on the weekends or when he has the time but he’s not stoned 247.
yumi is a classic man, he likes classic things. he prefers bud almost over everything else. he won’t turn down an edible but he despises carts because of the aftertaste they have. “babe that shit taste like potting soil… i’ll just take the extra twenty minutes to roll up.” + “it does not taste like potting soil! it’s supposed to be peanut butter and jelly flavored…” after a bowl or two though… homeboy is loving up on the cart!!!! “damn okay… maybe this shit does taste like pb&j…” better be willing to stop at a smoke shop the next day or have your dealer on speed dial because blake is draining that pen 😩
omg he out of all tgc boys fucking loves little smoke sesh dates. like finding a nice little spot off a hiking trail or just in the woods and rolling up together ): he would make sure to have a playlist and everything just like nick this man is soft for you bro. “alright babe are we feelin’ apricot gelato or blue dream today?” very organized with his weed. he knows his favorite strains and doesn’t venture out farther than the ones he knows he likes.
blake is a whole different personality when high, like he’s still blake but… better? idk how to describe it gahhhhh!!! like he’s more laid back, cusses more frequently, very sarcastic, voice a bit deeper/raspier from smoking. “brotha look over there… that bird is straight chillin’ on that tree branch.” + “brotha?…” doesn’t even realize he’s doing it- you would bring it up afterwards and he always denies it. “babe i can promise you i’ve never talked like that when high, maybe you just think i do because your always stoned when i’m high.” if you ever showed him a video of how he talks when stoned he would become hyper aware of how he acts whenever he’s high 💀
homeboy rolls the best joints- how can he not? somehow they always turn out perfectly cylindrical and no leaf actually ever falls out of the joint. he’s got the magic joint rolling hands, what can he say.
omg don’t even get me started on fucking munchies. i am a chronic victim of binge eating while stoned and i have a gut feeling yumi is too. homeboy can be expected to be covered in cheetos dust if he plans on smoking. it brings out the best and worst in him, the worst being eating copious amounts of food in such a short period of time. “your such a fatty babe,” + “am not! you literally scarfed down three zebra cakes an hour ago…”
#tgc#the groupchat podcast#the group#yumi#softwilly#larrycroft#bigt#isaacwhy#isaacwhy x reader#yumi x reader#bigt x reader
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What's Gotten Into You? - Pt. 2 (Little!Van)
Summary: The YJs continue working through Van's struggles with her scars. Featuring a Cg!Mel appearance and an eager-to-help Little!Nat. Tw for Van getting a little panicky about halfway through + more notes at the end
When Tai wakes the next morning, Van is already gone. Yawning, she drags herself out of bed to go brush her teeth. As she makes her way to the ensuite, she trips over something with a yelp. Something soft and fuzzy, she realizes, reaching down.
It's Van's stuffed dinosaur, one of her most beloved teddies. It's green with orange spikes, which Van had excitedly pointed out were just like her hair when she got it.
Van was normally very careful with the teddy, extremely protective over the toy that she called Nathaniel Dino, so it was odd that it was laying discarded on the ground. Even stranger, Tai thinks as she brings it up to eye level, were the rips in the fabric of the toy.
It's sporting a few deep gashes, carved into the dinosaur's face and down its side, with a chunk ripped out of the shoulder. The marks are almost identical to the ones that Van had torn into Jackie and Mel's teddies the day before, and Tai closes her eyes as nausea slams into her at the realization. Not only are the marks on the teddies all similar—they look pretty much exactly like the scars Van had been dealt by a pack of wolves and a careful teenager with a needle.
Murmuring a few choice words under her breath, Taissa returns the teddy to the bed, tucking it up against the pillows and smoothing a hand over the plush fabric. She quickly finishes getting ready and hurries downstairs, slowing abruptly as she catches sight of Lottie and Nat in the kitchen. Nat is bent over a bowl of Cheerios, spooning bites into her mouth methodically as Lottie watches fondly.
"Hey," Tai greets, trying to smile.
Lottie looks up, concern furrowing her brow. "Hey. You okay?"
"Have you seen Van this morning?"
Nat glances up, milk dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Lottie reaches over to thumb it away, nodding at Tai.
"Yeah. She was down here cleaning the floors when I got up. I think she said she was going out to do yard work after that."
Tai purses her lips. "Did she seem—?"
"Small? Nah, I don't think so. She did a great job," Lottie informs her, gesturing to the floorboards. They are a little shinier than usual, which is impressive considering the tendency held by both Mari and Shauna (and Mel, on occasion) to forget to toe their shoes off at the door.
Taissa thanks her and slips her shoes on to go outside looking for Van. It's a nice day, if a little gloomy, and she inhales deeply as she casts her gaze around the yard. She spots Van crouched in one of the flowerbeds, clad in her chore jeans and knockaround shoes, sleeves rolled to her elbows as she yanks at the weeds poking through the soil. Meandering over as casually as she can manage, Tai sits down on one of the few larger rocks they'd stuck in the garden in some attempt at landscape design.
"Up and at 'em, huh?"
Van doesn't even look up, tossing a few uprooted invaders into the bucket she has by her knee.
"Yup. Early bird and whatnot."
"How're you feeling?"
She knows she's poking, pushing Van a little harder than she normally would. Van doesn't always like discussing the things that happen when she's regressed, especially not when she's embarrassed by them, and by the way her face flushes at the question, Tai would take the gamble that she's feeling a little humiliated by the whole teddy thing.
"I'm fine, Tai," she mutters, yanking at a particularly stubborn root. Tai keeps quiet, watching Van dig her fingers methodically into the dirt. She's not wearing gloves, unconcerned about the dirt caking under her nails, a habit they haven't all quite trained themselves out of. Of all the chores Tai is willing to do around the house, the gardening isn't one of them. She's got too many weird feelings floating around about dirt and crouching in it, and she's always grateful when Van steps up to take care of it.
It's that gratitude that makes her sigh and push herself to her feet again. She'll try to tackle the conversation another time, maybe when Van's smaller and a little more willing to talk. She gives Van a kiss on the head before heading inside for breakfast, tossing a reminder over her shoulder about sunscreen and water.
She keeps an eye out for a good conversation opportunity over the next couple of days, but no decent moment presents itself. Van doesn't regress, ignoring Tai's gentle questioning about why, and mumbling something about Mel needing her.
Tai supposes she does have to hand that one to Van. Mel has been showing up at their door every night for going on three nights, tear-streaked and clutching her newly sewn-up moose teddy. She can see Van's face crumple a little at the sight every time, but the redhead quickly draws on her calm mask and coaxes Mel back to bed with a story. One night, Van doesn't return to their room, and Tai finds her the next morning curled at the foot of Mel's bed, one hand resting on the moose teddy that lay between them.
She half-expects a much smaller Van when the blonde and her troop down to breakfast about an hour later, but she gets a snarky, grinning, grown one. It's honestly driving her a little mad. She can feel the tension prickling under Van's skin. When they brush their teeth at night, Van doesn't look up from the sink. She doesn't check her outfits in the mirror in the morning and she'd asked Mari to clean the windows instead of her. Nathaniel Dino, still torn and sad-looking, sits untouched on top of their bureau. Further, she's almost too careful around the younger girls while she's watching them. She politely declines Jackie's request to play, eyeing the fox plush in the pile of toys with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Mel sits her moose plush in Van's lap when she gets up to get a drink of water and Tai thinks Van might explode from how tense she goes.
It comes to a head while Van and Tai are watching Lottie and Mari host a mildly intense game of racehorses, doling out little pony figurines to the few other girls crowded around them. Mari shoves a battered little orange one at Shauna, who wrinkles her nose and tries to hand it back.
"I don't want this one. She's got weird marks all over. Give me a nicer one," she demands of Mari, who scoffs, but obeys.
It's almost funny, especially since Mari and Shauna don't normally cooperate like that, but Tai's smile drops when she catches the look on Van's face. It's the stricken one she gets when she overhears people mumbling about her in the store. Her mouth is twisted to one side, and Tai knows she's running her tongue over the scar tissue covering the inside of her cheek, still not-fully healed because she chews on it when she's anxious.
Her eyes snap to Tai's suddenly and they're so full of anguish that Tai can't help herself from rising up off her seat, hands reaching out, but Van's already moving, breezing out of the room so fast her hair trails out behind her.
"Wait," Shauna's standing, looking a little panicked. She's seen Van's impromptu exit and seems to have put together the peices by the way she drops her shiny new green pony and tries to grab back the orange one. "I didn't—It's not—"
"It's alright, Shauna," Tai soothes, gritting her teeth. She does with Shauna had been a little more careful with her words, but it's really not the girl's fault. "I know you didn't mean it like that. Van's just having a tough time right now."
"She looked like she was gonna cry," Mari blurts, looking up at Tai immediately with a mildly guilty expression.
"Mari," Tai sighs, torn between leaving the younger group alone to go after Van and calling someone else into the room. She's not sure where they even are. "Let's not, please."
"It's true," Mari says, defensive even in her petulance. "Like the other night."
Mel walking into the room with a curious expression on her face just about brings Taissa to her knees in relief.
"Oh, good," she says in lieu of a proper greeting. "Can you take over here? I need to go find Van."
"What happened?" Mel asks, brows drawing together. "She ran past me just now...looked kinda rough."
"Shauna said a mean thing," Mari crows and Taissa shoots her a look.
"Something someone said set her off a little. Look, if you could just—"
"Would you mind if I went after her first?"
Tai freezes, mind spinning as she considers the suggestion.
"I think I know where she was going and I've got a hunch what this is about. And, you look like you're about to shake apart."
She knows Mel doesn't mean it as an insult and she's not wrong either. In her frenzy, Tai's found herself breathing a little too heavily as her mind spins with all the things she's been thinking about saying to Van over the past couple of days.
"Fine. Okay. As long as you bring her to me after," she's asking, not ordering, but Mel gives her a little salute anyhow.
"Sir, yes, sir."
...
When she hears the basement door creak open, Van knows she's been found out. She tries to make herself a little smaller anyways, huddling back against the cold wall and drawing her feet up close, tucking her chin into her knees as she waits. The footsteps start coming her way almost immediately, and a rush of old fear makes her hide her face in her knees, flinching when a shadow falls over her.
"Hey, buddy."
It's Mel. And it's big Mel.
Van sniffles, suddenly feeling about a million times smaller now.
"Mind if I sit?"
She doesn't mind, not really, even if she is embarrassed. She likes Mel lots and she knows that hugs from Mel are always really nice because the blonde always puts her hand on the back of her head in a way that makes Van feel very steady. Her body is telling her to kick out at Mel to get her to leave, trembling with nerves and maybe something else, but she tries to tell her feet to be quiet and gives a shaky little nod instead.
"Wow, thanks, kiddo." Mel sounds genuinely appreciative and it makes her feel even tearier than before. "Hey, did I ever tell you the knight story?"
Van shakes her head, interest piqued. She wants to hear the knight story. She also wants for tears to stop leaking from her eyeballs, but she can't quite seem to stem the flow, no matter how many times she rubs at them. Mel caches her wrists carefully when she goes to scrub harshly at her eyes again, smoothing her thumb over the back of Van's hands.
"Gentle, Van," she reminds.
It doesn't help with the sob that's building in the back of Van's throat because she knows. She knows she has to be gentle with her face, especially the left side, because her eye doesn't always work so well and sometimes she wakes up feeling like her face is on fire. And it's not fair that Tai has to pull her out of outside games when her vision starts going fuzzy as it gets dark and it's not fair that she has to keep going to that doctor that she hates just so he can prod painfully at her face and declare there's not much else he can do, but they'll keep trying. It's even more unfair that little kids get scared of her sometimes when they go out and people stare and ask her if she got into a fight with a bear and her mangled face keeps popping up on the tabloids lining the shelves at the grocer's even all this time later. It's not fair, not fair, not fair.
"Oh, kiddo, I know," Mel's murmuring and her arms are sliding around Van's shoulders, easing her into her lap, and Van realizes she's sobbing. "I know it's not fair."
She buries her face in Mel's shoulder, rubbing the side of her face against the fabric of the shirt. Mel's hand comes up to rest on the back of her head, stopping her from messing with the scars and it looses another wail from her chest. She tries to bite her lip to quiet down but she misses and clamps down on her tongue, which only makes her cry more and it's all so so much.
Her throat aches and her head is starting to feel kind of fuzzy as she gasps for air, Mel's voice echoing confusingly in her ear. She tries to wiggle her fingers, but they hardly move, and the realization only panics her more. Noise erupts by her ear and she's being moved, just slightly, until she's sat between Mel's legs with her back up against her chest. She can feel the vibrations of Mel's voice against her back and she lets her head tip forward as another breath whistles out of her faster than she drew it in. The voice vibrations behind her stop and suddenly there are cool hands on her face, guiding her eyes upward, and she tries to fight them, but they're firm and insistent and they're Tai's.
She tries to pitch forward, Tai's name coming garbled out of her mouth, but the hands on her cheeks are guiding her backwards against Mel's chest again. Tai's lips are moving and through the murk of her labored breathing and the sirens and the frogs and all the other noises she knows must not be real, she finally makes out the words.
"Breathe with Mel, baby, c'mon," Tai is instructing firmly. Her hands stay on Van's cheeks, grounding, and another hand that must be Mel's lands on Van's chest. Something swells behind her and falls again, moving like a wave, a soothing motion that almost makes her addled brain go quiet, eyes sliding shut before Tai's voice commands them open again. When Tai repeats her instructions, Van realizes the waves are Mel's breathing, which she's meant to be following, so on the next swell, she sucks in air like she's about to plunge underwater.
"Good, baby, how hold," Taissa says, tapping her finger against Van's good cheek. Behind her, Mel lets out a whoosh of air, so Van copies it and gets a proud smile from Tai in return.
She's not sure how long they sit there breathing, but by the time the world has settled back down around her and her head no longer feels like it's buzzing, she's exhausted. Tai and Mel guide her upright, leading her out of the basement, and she's too tired to feel embarrassed about having to walk past everyone to get upstairs. Mel breaks off at their door, giving Van a squeeze and promising to tell her the knight story some other time.
Tai sits her down on the bed and starts walking away, which makes Van's hands fly out to grab at her.
"I'm not leaving," Tai soothes, "just grabbing a friend."
She pushes Nathaniel Dino into Van's arms and she's about to wrap her arms around him gratefully when she remembers what she'd done to her toy, and somehow, tears well up traitorously in her eyes again.
...
Nathaniel Dino had been a bit of a dirty move.
Tai knows this.
She also knows that they can't keep dancing around it. So when fresh tears spill over Van's cheeks at the sight of her torn teddy, she crouches down in front of her, steadying herself with a hand on either knee, and tries to catch Van's gaze.
"Van," she starts, heart panging at the miserable look on the redhead's face. "I want you to know that I'm very proud of you."
Confusion plays out clearly across Van's expression, but she doesn't say anything.
"I asked you to promise not to mess with the others' toys and you didn't. So I'm proud that you listened to me. But I'm also sad, baby, because you ripped up your own toy."
"I wan'ed to make him bad too," Van mumbles, drawing in a shaky breath.
Tai closes her eyes against the rush of emotion that threatens to drown her.
"Bad?"
Van digs her finger into one of the rips in the teddy, picking out some stuffing. She keeps going as Tai watches, creating a small pile on the bed next to her.
"He's broken," Van explains, showing Tai the teddy again. "A big sea monster attacked him and now he's all wrong."
Her little voice is gravelly, bumping and sliding over syllables painfully in a way that makes Tai think of cold nights and rusty cans full of warm water.
"I don't think he's all wrong," she tries. "I think he just got hurt."
Van shakes her head.
"He's gonna get put back together," she explains. "But it'll be all wrong an' then no one will want him anymore 'cause he looks bad."
Tai reaches out a hand, gently running it over the teddy's head. Van's eyes track the motion intently.
"He looks different," she admits, "but he's still Nathaniel Dino. He's still the same, right?"
Van's face screws up again.
"No. His pieces are all wrong."
She swipes a hand at the little pile of stuffing she'd created on the bedspread next to her, sending white bits of fluff flying through the air. Tai has to stop herself from grabbing at them, sitting tight as they flutter to the floor. She can't quite contain herself when Van rears up and tosses the teddy at the ground, reaching out to grab him up off the floor quickly.
"Van!"
"I don't want him anymore," the redhead declares, but her tone is uncertain and her lip trembles as she watches the teddy. Tai brings him in close to her chest, giving him a little kiss on the top of his fuzzy head.
"Well, I want him," she says, well-aware of how sad she sounds. "I love him and I still want him. And so does everyone else. We would all be very upset without Nathaniel Dino."
Van crosses her arms defiantly, but her face is scrunched up mournfully as she watches Tai cradle the teddy close.
"'S not fair," she whimpers, tucking her cheek down against her own shoulder.
"Oh, baby, I know," Tai coos, reaching up to pull Van into her arms. The action sends Van into another bout of tears and Tai closes her eyes, rocking them back and forth gently as she hums. Slowly, Van cries herself out and starts to go limp against her front, not asleep but exhausted from so much emotion. Her thumb slips into her mouth and Tai lets it happen, carefully smoothing some hair off Van's damp face.
After a while, someone taps on the wooden frame of the door and Lottie pokes her head in, followed quickly by an anxious-looking Nat.
"Hey," Lottie greets softly. Van jerks, yanking her thumb out of her mouth, but Tai shushes her and she settles again. "Nat was worried and wanted to check in."
"Is it okay if Nat and Lot come in, kiddo?" Tai whispers. She gets a minute nod and smiles up at the others.
Nat's at Tai's side within seconds, one hand reaching carefully out to brush clumsily across Van's face. Van's eyes flutter open and she stares at Natalie as she strokes her hand down her face a couple times.
"Look," Nat says, pulling something out from behind her back with her other hand. She brandishes her second-favorite teddy, a toothy looking shark. It has, Tai realizes, red thread stitched artfully down one side of it's body, arcing onto it's small, flat face. "Laura Lee helped me. It's to match Mel's moose and Jackie's fox!"
She sounds excited, like she thinks the faux-scarring is cool and Van lifts her head up off Tai's chest a little. One hand scratches lightly at her own scars as she examines the shark. Lottie comes to sit by Nat's side, giving Tai a small smile.
"It was a bit of a toss-up, but she was so excited about it," she murmurs.
Tai nods, feeling a lump in her throat as Van reaches for Nathaniel Dino.
"Can help fix him?" She directs the question at Nat, showing her teddy to the other girl.
Nat nods eagerly and reaches out to exchange the shark for the dino. She cradles the dino close to her chest, giving him a little kiss on the head.
"Yup," she nods. "She can make him look cool too."
"Cool too?" Van parrots, running her fingers over the red thread lines.
"Mhm! Wanna know how it happened?" Nat doesn't wait for a response before launching into the story. "He was swimmin' lookin' for something to help his friends, but ran into some meanie squids. He tried to fight 'em, but it was too many. Then, Mr. Duckie came to save him and brought him to get fixed up by Laura Lee, and he was so brave and got all healed up 'cause of her."
"Still like him?" Van asks worriedly. Nat's quick to nod and Tai wonders if Lottie had taken the liberty of explaining the situation to everyone else in the house.
"Love him," she whispers reverently, shuffling up close to Tai's side so she can lean her head against Van's shoulder. It makes Van's face crumple again, but she doesn't cry, tipping her head down against Nat's as she runs her fingers over the shark over and over and over.
Honestly, I'd be up for writing another part if this didn't really feel like The Ending, haha. But, I hope you enjoyed!
Part 2 of the Baby Dino fic is on the way as well.
#yellowjackets agere#sfw agere#little!van palmer#cg!taissaturner#little!natalie scatorccio#fic#cg!melissa#cg!lottie matthews
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Yoongi oneshot
Fan au, fluff, smut, drugs,
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"Their age?", A staff member asks. "18+... but they're not from Korea". They're going through random weverse accounts with membership to find someone for their new show. A show where all of the bts members will spend 100 days with a fan. "It'll just have to do.. Every single Yoongi fan this far has been underage. Let's just get this over with". You receive an email from weverse. You open it without thinking, guessing it's some type of ad about new merch or a new episode or whatever. Your eyes widen as you read the email. Quickly you respond to it, telling them you're available and give them all your information for them to do a background check. The day has come. You're in front of the house that you will be staying at with Yoongi. A shivery breath escapes your lips as you push the door open. A camera starts following you as you take off your shoes and drag your suitcase inside. A familiar face approaches you with a smile. He hold his hand out to you and you take it. The touch gently and warm. "U-uhm.. I'm Y/n". He smiles at you and shakes your hand, "Nice to meet you, Y/n. You can just call me Yoongi". His touch lingers for a second before letting go of your hand. Together you start exploring the house. The camera crew following you. The small microphone tickles against your collarbone. Around dinner time you two play a simple game of rock, paper, scissors, the loser having to make dinner. You win and sit on the couch for a while, waiting for him to finish dinner. He comes places a bowl of tteokkboki on the table in front of you. "Smells nice", you say as you get off the couch and onto the floor. Crossing your legs as you sit down. You both start to eat and chat, laughing the night away. After dinner the cameras cut and you both go into your rooms. The nerves of having been around him all day had been building up inside of you. Your stomach and back hurt from it. You sit on your bed, fidgeting with a joint between your fingers. You place it between your lips and light it.
After a couple of hits you start to feel the stress fade away from your body. You feel like you're floating in water and your fingertips slightly tingle. Music plays through your headphones as you lay on your bed, your eyes closed. Suddenly you feel the weight on your bed shift. You look up with half closed eyelids. Yoongi is sitting beside you. You move your headphones off your head and look at him. "Are you smoking weed", he asks while looking at you. "Ya..", you respond lazily. He takes the joint from your fingers and lays down beside you, taking a drag. "Didn't know you smoked weed". He looks at you, "Sometimes". You pass the joint between each other, your lungs filling with smoke. The joint is almost finished. He looks at you, placing the joint between your lips with his fingers. You take a drag and he flicks the bud out of the window. You look at him, "You look really hot like that". Not thinking about what your saying, having lost control over your senses from the high. His hair is slightly messy, his body and face relaxed and he has a stupid smile on his face. "Thank you, so do you". You can't help but blush at his words. "You think so?". He leans closer, his breath hot on your face, "I know so". An urge comes over you and you press your lips against his. He kissing you back hungrily. His hands travel to your waist, rubbing up and down seductively. Your bodies pressing together. His tongue moves inside, exploring your mouth. He pulls you on top, making you straddle his lap. You hips start to grind automatically. He lets out a groan and flips you around, hoover over your body. You hands start to pull at his shirt. He takes it off and removes your clothes as well. You unzip his pants and make him take everything off. His face travels to your neck, biting and sucking at it. He moves your hips up with one of his hands, supporting his body weight with the other. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in. His movements are loving, but rough. A strange yet good combination. He lets out sweet moans and whimpers as he pound inside of you, nuzzling his face in your neck. "F-fuck.. You're so.. beautiful..", he says breathily, between moans. His hands travel over your body as his thrusts become shakier and harder. You hand grips his hair, softly pulling at it, making him moan out in pleasure. Not long later and you can feel him release inside of you, making your legs shake and finish yourself. His body drops down on yours, holding you tightly. You fall asleep cuddling him as he plants kisses over your face.
#yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi oneshot#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#bts#bts fanfic#bts oneshot#bts smut#bts yoongi#bts suga#suga bts#yoongi bts#bangtan sonyeondan#bangtan#fanfic#oneshot#bts fluff#bts army#smut#x reader#one shot
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Current fantasy:
You’ve been stalking me for months. You’re good at it too, I don’t even notice you touching yourself through my bedroom window as I’m changing for bed.
You take up my hobbies, get a job at my work, and slowly become friends with me. We see each other everywhere, and I just assume we’re very much alike.
You come over one day after work. My house is small but homely. You assess the area, trying to figure out where to plant the cameras.
The front door leads to the kitchen first, the bathroom immediately to the left. I was lucky enough to get a large bowl bathtub, and spent a lot of time inside of it. But you already knew that.
I take you to my living room, which is only a few feet from the kitchen. Small, but homely. We sit on my L shaped couch and relax to some shows. With my hair off to the side, I don’t notice your eyes staring directly at me instead of the tv. I don’t notice your plans to take me as your slave.
We end the evening with a hug as you leave the back door. I close the door and go for my evening smoke break. I grab my supplies, and slowly make my way to the couch.
After a large bowl, my entire world begins to wobble and slow down. I turn on my favorite cartoons, and begin to zone out into my own world for the night. What I failed to do before hand, was lock the door. I was always trusting of my neighborhood, so there were moments I’d forget to lock it during the day. It rarely happened, but there were times where I’d forget to lock during the night. You’d know this already, though, but never took advantage of it yet. You needed to see everything in the safety of daylight first, to get your surroundings.
I continue to stare at my cartoons, soon taking another hit before grabbing my blanket and wrapping it tightly around myself. I can barely see what’s around me anymore, only what’s right infront of me.
You immediately smell it outside my door. The toxic whiff of skunky green plants being burnt, it brings a smile to your face because not only am I so intoxicated I wouldn’t notice a thing, but as soon as you touched my door knob, it twisted right open. It was going to be an easy night for you.
You walk back into my home, the smell being a little stronger now. You close and lock the door behind you, not wanted anyone else disturbing your peace.
You look into the kitchen and open my fridge. I had a jug of water, a job of milk, some drinks, and some food. You smile again as you reach into your pocket. Inside is a little tub filled with a liquid. The tub reads *trance activator*.
You open my water jug and pour some inside, then the milk, then my other drinks. This was so easy, in my intoxicated state there was no way of knowing what you were doing.
You close the fridge and enter the living room. Inside you see the show I’m glued too and smile once more. You know exactly what to do once you’re done.
You begin placing a tiny camera onto my book shelf, under my desk, and in the corners of each room in the house. They’re so small, yet so high quality.
You start going through my belongings, starting at the important things. You look through my weed accessories, and noticed I have a mask. Seeing this makes you want to laugh, how could your luck get any better?
You come back into the living room and noticed I was fast asleep now. You grab my grinder and pack a new bowl into the mask. The excitement you feel is great as you slowly begin to burn the bowl.
Smoke immediately begins to fill my mask, suffocating me with the delicious drugs being burnt. My vision is already cloudy inside the mask, so I don’t see you infront of me burning away the weed.
I’m shocked at first, eyes wide open as the place is filled with smoke. I realize quickly it’s my mask, and get confused at how it got there. The confusion doesn’t last long though, as the drugs hit quickly like a punch to the gut.
My vision begins to blur through the smoke, and my body begins to relax. I no longer care how my mask got onto my face, I only care about how tingly my body feels, and how relaxed I am. It feels so painful breathing in all that smoke, but it felt so good too.
As my body begins to grow limp, you quickly turn to my TV and pull up and very pretty spiral. You sit me back up, and slowly take off my mask.
I nearly fall over, my entire body feeling like and fuzzy. You hold my shoulders to prevent me from falling over, as I’m too high to even notice the pressure on them.
My eyes roll back for a moment before the adjust to the tv. Because of my impaired state, my eyes immediately snap to the center, and grow tired and too lazy to move away from it. My entire body begins to relax again, but this time for a bit of a different reason.
As I begin to relax against the back of the couch, you get to work putting headphones on me, connected to a small MP3 device. You press play, and instantly began to play binary beats into my ears.
I hear a snap in the noise, and my body nearly goes numb from any feeling. My muscles feel nonexistent, and my bones liquid. In my state of mind, I didn’t care. It felt way too good to look away now.
I didn’t notice any words being said, but everytime I heard a snap, my body would grow even more relaxed. If that was even possible.
Once the audio is over, you take your mp3 device away, and place my cartoon back on the tv screen. Once the drugs leave my system, you’d have been long gone, and i would have been far too impaired to even remember what just happened.
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I'm literally such a sucker for any modern au vijinx and or romantically mundane versions of them. Im WEAK. And apparently I can't say anything about them without waxing poetically so here's like? A mini fic???
Vi coming home after work to their shared apartment. Kicking her shoes off at the door, keys on the hook hanging by the fridge, backpack on the back of a kitchen chair, and her wallet in the bowl on the table they found on the side of the road.
She desperately needs to take a shower after the work day she had and not to mention her work out afterwards. The shower can wait though, Powder got her some good weed from a friend of hers as a random gift. She claims it's the best she's had so far, as the older sister Vi of course has to do a quality check on that.
Both of them have agreed, no smoking in the apartment. Not only for the fact they both try to have a clean living space but they also both hope to get most of their security deposit back. So Vi opens the largest window in the living room, pops the screen out and sits on the window ledge to light one up.
Powder doesn't arrive too late after Vi starts up, back from her day of part time work and as many internship hours she could pick up. She calls out to Vi to let her know she's home as a little ritual of love between them. The front door wouldn't let either of them miss the other coming in, regardless of how gently they opened the door.
The house only slightly smells like weed from the small whisps that make it back in from the open window. Mostly, it smells like home and the musky scent of Vi's dried sweat on her clothes and backpack. A little pungent with how fresh it is but Powder can't fault her for it, all things considered with how well Vi takes care of herself, it could be a lot worse.
She's a little embarrassed but she likes the smell on Vi's older clothes, after a good many washes. After that many years the scent is ingrained in the threads of the clothes but it's been mellowed out with time and detergent. It's a smell she associates with safety and love.
It's a comforting scene to come home to. And is a perfect opportunity to take a puff off of a joint she didn't have to prepare. She follows the same ritual Vi followed when she came home, shoes, bag, keys and wallet and starts walking towards Vi by the window.
Vi looks over at her and smiles as her eyes fill with little stars and sparks as they land on Powder. She takes a drag, closes her eyes, holds it for an impressive amount of time, turns her head towards the outside and blows out. It's the most practiced, controlled and elegant way Powder has seen anyone take a drag. Vi cracks her eyes open, smiles again and holds out the joint to Powder, knowing she'd steal one anyway.
Powder sits opposite of her on the window and breathes in her own, smaller drags. One, hold, blow, two, hold blow. She's stopped trying to compare herself to Vi years ago, after they got separated for 7 hard, hard years. She's found her own way of doing things, her own way of living and they've never been closer to each other because of it.
She hands it back to Vi, gives her a little peck on her forehead and slowly drags her hand along her jaw to the back of her head to give her a couple scratches in her scalp. Vi gives her a little shiver and a pleased hum, grabs her unoccupied hand and gives it a little squeeze and a kiss.
Powder moves to go see what they can scrounge up for dinner. Vi follows her to help out and of course wrap her arms around her waist and plop her head on her shorter shoulders. They put on some music, light some candles, make little efforts for little gains. At some point Powder kicks Vi out to go take a shower at the perfect time for her to finish right when the food is too.
They spend the rest of the night with similar small moments. Taking care of each other and tiredly bathing in each other's presence until their bed time rolls around. Something Vi enforces more than Powder does, something about it being good for one's mind and body. Powder thinks it helps her more that she gets to lay in bed lazily with Vi at nights, on the same schedule, while she's still mostly awake enough to appreciate it.
#vijinx#short fic#sort of#?????#domestic au#modern au#i literally wrote the first sentence and got possessed to just start typing words#it's EMBARRASSINGGGG
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Stay In
Mengying wakes up with a cold. Normally she’d still get up and work, but now…
On the farm, when it was just herself and her father, she couldn’t afford a sick day.
Her father would do as much as he could, but frankly, two pairs of hands made everything go faster. He needed the assist.
So, when her head felt heavy and her throat was sore and her limbs were weak, Mengying would still pull herself out of bed and go to do the watering and weeding.
Her father would handle the animals.
When that was done, then she was free to go back to sleep.
So when she woke up one morning, some weeks after her wedding, feeling weak and sore and her throat stinging horribly, her first instinct was to continue to try getting up.
However, things were different this time.
“Mmph, Beloved?” The body beside her shifted, alerted by the muffled cough she let out into the pillow.
“I’m fine,” Mengying rasped, beginning to push back the blankets. “I’m up–”
A cool hand pressed against her forehead, making her pause. “You’re feverish,” Ao Lie murmured. “You’re not well.”
“I can still manage,” she began. “We have–”
“Stay where you are,” Ao Lie interrupted, gentle but firm. As if to preemptively cut off any arguments, he drew the blankets back over her shoulder and tucked them around her. “Stay where you are,” he repeated. “I’ll be back.”
Mengying listened to him get up and leave the room, closing the door behind him. Ah, that was right, she told herself. This wasn’t the farm anymore. She hadn’t done physical labor in a while. She could just rest.
Her eyelids felt heavier as she slowly digested this.
She could just…
“Beloved?”
Mengying’s eyes opened again. She must have fallen asleep for a moment there.
She was no longer on her side, but instead was propped up against Ao Lie’s chest, one of his arms holding her up. He made the action seem so effortless, but then again, there was that dragon strength…
Her attention moved from his concerned expression to the small bowl he held in his other hand. It smelled savory, and of herbs.
Despite the fact she was never hungry while ill, it made her mouth water a bit.
“Drink this,” he said, bringing it to her lips. “I spoke to the physicians; they’ve said there’s a cold going around the palace and it seems you’ve caught it.”
“A dragon cold?” Mengying rasped instead of drinking.
Her husband laughed, shoulders relaxing. “No, just a normal cold. You’ll be fine by tomorrow. The next day at the latest.” He lifted the bowl again. “Drink.”
Normally, Mengying would insist on holding it herself.
But it did feel nice, being pampered like this… She let her husband tilt the bowl against her mouth, both of them careful not to spill a drop.
The soup tasted a bit sharper than she was used to, due to the medicinal herbs. ( Dragon medicine, I’ll bet, part of her whispered.) But it was still delicious, and warmed her throat and stomach pleasantly. She sighed, snuggling her cheek to Ao Lie’s pajamas when she was finished.
“I’ve told the court neither of us will be appearing today,” he said. He expected her to try and argue with him, as she sometimes did, to say he should at least make an appearance himself.
But Mengying was already falling back asleep.
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Scafata (spring stew of broad beans, chard, potatoes and artichokes)
“Typical of Lazio in spring, scafata is somewhere between a soup and a nicely oily stew, and is best served at room temperature with a spoonful of seasoned ricotta and a big pile of garlic and olive oil toast.” - Rachel Roddy
Prep 15 min
Cook 45 min
Serves 4
Ingredients:
To cook:
100ml / 6 TB olive oil
1 small bunch spring onions, trimmed and roughly chopped (alternatively: a large bunch of scallions, treated the same)
2 celery sticks, trimmed, strings pulled away and thinly sliced
200g / 7oz broad beans (fresh or frozen), or peas
400g / 14 oz cherry tomatoes, halved
2 large potatoes, peeled and diced
2 artichokes, trimmed and cut into wedges, or asparagus, cut into 1 inch chunks
1 pinch dried oregano
200g / 7 oz/ one small bunch chard or spinach, washed
1 handful fresh basil leaves
Salt
To serve:
200g / 7 oz fresh ricotta
2 tbsp parmesan
2 tbsp whole milk
Finely grated zest of 1 unwaxed lemon
Slices of bread, toasted, rubbed with garlic and drizzled with olive oil
Preparation:
In a large, heavy-based pan, warm the oil, then gently fry the spring onion and celery with a pinch of salt for about 10 minutes, until translucent and soft.
Add the broad beans, tomatoes, potato, artichokes, oregano and another pinch of salt, and stir for a few minutes. Cover with 500ml / 2 cups water, half-cover the pan with a lid and leave to simmer for 20 minutes. Add the chard or spinach, simmer for 10 minutes more, until the vegetables are soft and there is just a little liquid surrounding them, then tear in the basil.
In a small bowl, whisk the ricotta with the parmesan, milk and lemon zest to taste.
Serve the stew at room temperature with the seasoned ricotta and some toast rubbed with garlic and zig-zagged with olive oil on the side.
Ceru notes: spring onions are essentially baby onions, young sprouts weeded out of the bed early in the onion-growing season to give their brethren more room to grow to maturity. At least where I live and shop, spring onions are not grown as a commercial crop for themselves, so I only actually ever see them at farmer’s markets, and of course, in the spring! Flavor-wise, I think they’re pretty indistinguishable from scallions (which are available year round in most American supermarkets), a fairly mild kind of allium, and my only note here would be that spring onions are usually much bigger than scallions. So size up accordingly, if using scallions.
Broad beans are also known as fava beans. They turn up a lot in the UK recipes I read, but I have never encountered a fava or broad bean in any form in the US. I just use frozen peas.
“Large” potatoes is not a helpful instruction. I say just follow your heart. Or maybe aim for like…1.5 pounds of Idahos or Yukons.
I love salt and I love chicken broth so EYE use chicken broth for this. You do not have to follow my predictable example here.
I personally find Rachel’s instructions (linked) on how to trim an artichoke difficult to follow, and the first time I made this, I ended up with a lot of inedible bits of leaves in the stew. It was delicious, but also hilarious, because I was having to do the whole “scraping the edible flesh of the leaves out of the inedible bits with my teeth” thing which is normal for certain types of artichoke eating but not what I think was intended here. If you don’t feel like fucking around with fresh artichokes, substituting canned, jarred, or frozen artichoke hearts should work fine, although I’d try to stay clear of anything that’s preserved in a brine. Brine is delicious but might affect the taste of the stew.
The seasoned ricotta is stupidly satisfying; I highly recommend making that. Yum yum yum. I don’t think that these are good instructions for toast. You probably know how to make toast. Make some toast your own way (I’m a nerd and I make my own compound butters and put that on toast when I’m eating it with soup) and have that with this and the ricotta. This is one of the best things I have ever eaten in my entire life.
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Can I Keep It?
@spicycinnabun and I's contribution to steddiebang 2023! ❤️️ | Chapters: 4/12 | Rating: M | Read, kudos or comment on ao3 | We have a playlist. ❤️️ | Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Chapter 4: Rough Day, Sweetheart?
Steve’s nerves were shot from everything that had gone down. It was half past ten by the time he got home. He needed some peace, quiet and weed. Dustin had run his mouth all damn day. He loved the kid, but damn, he never knew when to shut up. Steve felt like a forty-year-old single mother who just needed a cigarette once the kids went to bed.
While his mom was probably disappointed that he hadn’t been home for dinner, he knew she’d still have a plate waiting for him in the fridge.
From the outside, Steve was surprised that it was completely dark inside. He entered the same way he’d exited the house, through his bedroom’s sliding glass doors. He thought that was probably best since it looked like his dad had made it home from work. He thought he’d gone on a business trip, but now his and his mom’s cars were in the driveway.
The first thing he did was turn on a light. The soft, dim glow from his bowling pin lamp illuminated a completely passed-out metalhead who was looking particularly soft in his bed, dressed in Steve’s favorite pajamas, and to top it off, his hair looked tamed and bouncy—a telltale sign his hair products had been used. Eddie looked too damn peaceful to disturb, so Steve didn’t.
He headed over to his closet after he shrugged off his jacket. He put it away, having to push his letterman jacket further back to make room. He kicked off his Nike’s and tried not to groan at how stiff his body felt from the fright Sinclair had given him. He had to get out of his jeans. God, he was a mom.
Steve stripped right down to his boxers, losing his collared polo, too. He went to take a piss before coming back out. He went to his dresser next and immediately took a pair of socks out from the back of the top drawer. He kept a small baggie of rolled blunts in this specific pair of socks. He took one out before balling the socks back up. He put the joint between his lips while he closed that drawer and opened another. He dug around until he found his next favorite pair of pajama pants and pulled them on.
Steve still felt warm from getting heated earlier, so he left his shirt off. He quickly grabbed a lighter he had hidden in his pencil holder on his desk. He lit the blunt and walked back over to the sliding glass doors, and opened them a crack, knowing he had to let the smell out if he was going to enjoy this blunt by himself.
* Eddie’s nose lifted in the air and twitched a few times before his eyes opened. He thought maybe he was still dreaming because the first thing he saw was a silhouette of a half-naked man in the window and the pungent musk of that elusive Miss Mary Jane. Eddie squinted and sat up, wiping his eyes a few times to clear them.
The half-naked man was Steve, of course, and Eddie had fallen asleep in his bed. Whoops. The alarm clock told Eddie it was ten-forty. It had been several hours. Steve’s back was facing him, so Eddie took a moment to observe him quietly.
It was a strange situation to be in. Not like it was the first time he’d stayed over at a guy’s house, but Steve wasn’t his friend. Eddie was an invader. His hands felt naked, too, without his rings. He shouldn’t have taken them off to shower.
That was the smoldering cherry of a lit joint between Steve’s fingers, though, and that was enough to dislodge any weird shyness Eddie felt. Eddie made a show of stretching and groaning to make it clear he was awake. He then rolled off the bed, padding over to the sliding glass doors Harrington was currently looking out of.
Steve was taking his first wonderful puff when he heard Eddie stirring behind him. What were the odds that weed was what woke him up? Steve smiled around the joint.
Waking Eddie with his joint was one way of getting him out of his bed. Steve really wasn’t trying to do that, though. He would’ve taken the couch since Eddie was his guest, after all. He had manners and wouldn’t disturb a sleeping man.
Even though the door was only open a crack, the cold air hit Eddie’s sleep-warm body and made him fold his arms around himself to contain his heat. He didn’t know how Steve was shirtless right now. He took in Steve’s posture, his head hanging slightly in exhaustion. “Rough day, sweetheart?” Eddie asked with a coy smile and the over-the-top faux sweetness of a nineteen-fifties housewife, twirling a lock of hair around his finger.
Of course, Eddie was being cute. Steve’s mind was already easing as he took another drag. When he turned, he caught Eddie playing with his hair. He couldn’t stop a second smile as he blew out the smoke and took Eddie in.
His hair looked nice, and he didn’t smell as funky as he had when Steve left—he smelled like warm spice mixed with a little sleep musk and clean from soap and a bit like him from his clothes. Yeah, it was nice.
Steve wanted to answer and say, “Yeah, it was rough,” since it seemed so genuine of a question, but didn’t.
No guy had ever called him sweetheart before. It made him shiver. Although, it could have just been the freezing early March air he was letting billow into the warm room.
Eddie’s eyes widened slightly. He had no idea Harrington was such a hairy beast beneath those polos. Jesus Christ. It was enough to discombobulate his thoughts, but he quickly recovered, dropping the act (and his hair) as the severity of the situation hit him. “It’s pretty late. What happened? Everyone alright? Any news?” Steve lifted the joint and offered it to Eddie so he could answer his questions. “There was another death nearly identical to Chrissy’s: Fred, Nancy’s friend from the school paper. They went to the trailer park to investigate what happened. They split up to ask questions, but Nancy couldn’t find him. They found him dead on the road. That’s what all those cops were rushing to when we saw them earlier. Don’t know if you knew him, but the police still suspect you somehow, but still haven’t released your name. Some people in Hawkins might’ve concluded that it was you without them confirming it.”
Eddie’s stomach dropped. Vecna had claimed someone else. He didn’t know any Freds off the top of his head, so he shook his head minutely, accepting the joint with fingers that trembled with a little more than just the cold.
“Jason, Chrissy’s boyfriend, he was the one insisting it was you. You were the last person who saw her,” Steve continued. “He’s after Dustin too now, because he thinks Dustin knows where you are.”
Steve knew it was a risk hiding Eddie, but Jason wouldn’t think Eddie was here. Jason didn’t know he and Dustin were friends as far as he could tell.
Eddie paled even further. He more than knew Jason, not that he was about to mention that to Steve. He was exceptionally grateful for the toke, pulling it in as deeply as his lungs could handle before exhaling. “Fuck,” he muttered, passing the joint back to Steve. “Fuck, man.” The THC did its magic, dulling some thoughts that tried to start rapid firing in his head, turning them into more of a leisurely ping-pong game instead. Hopefully, Carver wasn’t lame enough to go banging down Mrs. Henderson’s door, and Dustin would be safe tonight.
Steve could see that Eddie was cold, and he felt another shiver coming on when Eddie’s hand grazed his as he was giving the joint back. Steve flicked the bud outside and pulled the door shut as soon as it was finished.
He walked over to his bed and sat down. It was still warm and made. Eddie hadn’t even gotten under the covers. Steve shifted and leaned back against the headboard. He put his legs out in front of him since he started feeling more relaxed. “Thanks for keeping my bed warm,” he told Eddie, patting the spot beside him. He wasn’t ready for bed just yet.
Eddie let out a soft huff, debating whether he should explain. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in Harrington’s bed; it had just happened. Steve didn’t seem too bothered about it, so he relaxed. “Couldn’t resist testing out the royal bedsheets,” Eddie replied.
He climbed onto the empty side of the bed, sitting in the center facing Steve, his legs pulled up like a pretzel and his arms wrapped around them.
Steve waited for Eddie to get comfortable before he went deeper into what was going on. “We think Vecna’s next victim is Max. She had a vision tonight. Same one Chrissy and Fred had a day before they died… Heavy shit, man.”
Eddie listened carefully, focusing better on Steve’s words and not the other stimuli around him, thanks to MJ’s help. “Shit, poor Max,” he said, tone sympathetic. He rubbed his mouth. Vecna had his sights set on her now. They had to stop him before he got to her, too.
They both stewed in that silently for a few minutes.
Steve wasn’t high enough to spiral. He was just high enough to have the munchies. He changed the subject. “Hey, you hungry? Bet my mom left dinner in the fridge, and I could sneak one of my dad’s beers for us to split. I could use some beer. Bet you could, too.” He smiled a dopey smile as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.
“Starving, and always,” Eddie said. “Can I come with you?”
Steve’s parents had probably gone to bed already, right? The nap had envigored him, and he wouldn’t mind seeing more of the Harrington house.
Steve hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he was starving too. He hesitated, but just for a second. He finished climbing off the bed and gave Eddie a nod. “Course you can come.”
Steve waited until Eddie un-pretzeled himself, then led the way up the stairs.
There wasn’t a need to worry about his parents. It was silent. The TV wasn’t on in the living room, so they most likely had gone to bed, given the time of night. It was eleven now, and their room wasn’t even on the same floor as the kitchen. It was right off the basement stairs, so it was a quick trip for Steve and Eddie. Not that he couldn’t just lie about who Eddie was if his parents found them raiding the kitchen, but he knew his parents well enough to know they wouldn’t be checking on him.
When they reached the first floor, they were met with a modern eighties kitchen. It had lots of tiles and wooden cabinets, with hidden appliances that were just covered with wood paneling. The space was large and open, perfect for entertaining, as more windows and another set of sliding glass doors led outside to the currently winterized pool.
Eddie looked around curiously at all the appliances. There was a blender on the counter with the biggest bowl of fruit beside it that Eddie had ever seen. He wondered if Steve or Steve’s parents made smoothies with that. Was Steve a protein shake kind of guy? Ick.
Steve went over to the fridge and opened it. There it was: his mom’s pot roast, waiting for him with a note that read Stevie . He smiled. She was always so thoughtful.
Steve started pulling out the roast as well as the sides. His mom always made two sides: a potato and a vegetable. The pot roast had carrots and potatoes, but she had also made mashed potatoes and corn. It looked so fucking good, even cold.
Eddie’s attention caught on a picture affixed to the fridge door with a lemon-shaped magnet. The photograph was of a much younger Steve in a swimsuit and goggles and an older man and woman whom Eddie figured were Steve’s parents. Steve was between them, a big smile on his face. He was holding up a silver medal to the camera. Steve’s dad was borderline unsmiling, looking out of place in a stiff business suit, but Steve’s mom was grinning, her arm around Steve’s shoulders.
“I’m excited,” Steve told Eddie as he grabbed a couple of plates and started dishing out the food onto them. Luckily, they didn’t have to eat it cold since he had a microwave. He put them in it, and while they were warming, Steve cleaned up the dishes and returned to the fridge for the beer.
Sure enough, his mom had gone to the store earlier, and they were fully stocked again. His dad wouldn’t miss two beers, now would he? Steve smirked and snatched them right out. He passed them to Eddie so he could get their food out before the timer went off. God, it looked so good. “Bet you haven’t had a meal this good in your life. My mom’s an amazing cook.”
Eddie tore his eyes away from the photograph when two beers appeared in his hands. “You’re probably right,” he said, eyeing the loaded plates. “Although, I did have dinner at Dustin’s house once, and Mrs. Henderson made us a pretty mean Hamburger Helper Stroganoff.” The squiggly noodles had reminded Eddie of Cthulhu’s tentacles, which had made eating the grey sludge a little more fun. “Your mom might have some competition there.”
Steve had to smile when Eddie brought up Dustin’s mom. He loved her, too, and she was a pretty good cook. He could agree with the mean Hamburger Helper. Steve also liked that, but his mom did a lot more cooking from scratch than Dustin’s mom did, which couldn’t be beat. Eddie would find that out with his first bite. Steve grabbed a couple of forks and led the way back to his room.
He couldn’t help but be grateful for his mom whenever she cooked for him and his dad and still did it, even if neither of them were home on time. She’d been a good mother to him and a good wife. It wasn’t fair that her husband was unloyal, but Steve was about to eat and wash away those harboring feelings.
Eddie followed Steve’s lead and settled on the couch with his plate on his lap. Their fingers brushed again as Steve passed him one of the forks. Steve’s fingertips were overly warm from handling the hot plates. Eddie nearly dropped the fork between the couch cushions but managed to save it before it fell.
He cracked open the beer first. He hadn’t had water in a while, but beer was hydration, right? “I’ve never had pot roast before,” Eddie said after he set his beer down on the coffee table.
The meat was so tender it didn’t even need a knife. The mashed potatoes were buttery and glorious. Even the vegetables tasted good. Eddie inhaled half his plate before he felt the ghost of Uncle Wayne’s hand smacking him upside the head for eating like an animal and forced himself to slow down. Chew your damn food, boy.
“Never had it,” Steve commented softly and shook his head about Eddie never having pot roast. How? He thought that was sad. It was one of his favorite foods. He couldn’t imagine never having had it before.
He took a long swallow of his beer before he started eating. Steve didn’t think Eddie was eating too fast. He chalked it up to the good food and Eddie just being hungry from going all day without any.
Steve didn’t know much about Eddie’s home life. He knew he was unpopular and poor… given he lived at the trailer park with his uncle. Eddie was also older than him by a year, or maybe they were the same age. Steve thought he was supposed to graduate a year before he did, though.
Regardless, Eddie was an adult on his own, pretty much. He cared enough to try and finish high school despite his parents not being around.
“I wonder if the police questioned my uncle yet,” Eddie said suddenly, putting his fork down.
Jesus, his uncle probably thought he was a murderer. He probably hated Eddie now. Was Eddie ever going to see his uncle again? And even if he did, would Wayne want anything to do with him?
Steve sat his fork down, too, and tucked some of his hair behind his ears. That triggered his memory of where they’d gone today—they’d swapped information when they’d sat down together at the picnic table. “They questioned him, alright. Nancy mentioned that she had questioned him, too. He didn’t want to talk to her at first since the police weren’t having that you didn’t do that to Chrissy. She said Wayne defended you. He said that he knew you and you’d never do a thing like that.”
Eddie’s insides twinged in guilt, and his nose burned a little. His uncle had defended him to the police—of course, he had. Wayne was the only person who had ever thought Eddie was worth a damn for anything. And even if he did think Eddie had done it, he probably still would have defended him. Munsons weren’t snitches.
“I wouldn’t,” Eddie confirmed, somehow getting his emotions back in check before he did something stupid like cry (again).
If he got out of this mess somehow, he would have to defend himself with his own words, but knowing his uncle was still in his corner was comforting. Weirdly enough, it seemed like King Steve was, too.
“No way anything human could’ve done that to one, let alone two people.”
Steve needed more beer. He set his plate on the coffee table, grabbed his beer, and started downing it. Today was way more stressful than he’d care to admit. Despite embarrassing himself in front of everyone and Dustin being Dustin, the alcohol couldn’t hit him fast enough. He wiped his mouth after finishing the bottle.
He noticed that Eddie had finished his food, and his beer was half-empty. Steve put his hand on Eddie’s knee. “You can have what’s left of my food if you’re still hungry. You want another beer?” He patted Eddie’s knee as he stood up and picked up the empty plate to take it upstairs.
Eddie’s knee flew up like a bird startling and taking flight, but Steve had already let go. He set his foot back down quickly and slumped back against the couch. Why was his heart racing? More importantly, why did Harrington keep touching him?
Eddie shot Steve a nervous smile, jaw ticking as he tried to appear normal. Or at least normal-ish. Another beer wasn’t going to be enough for either of them. “Uh, got anything stronger?”
Mr. Harrington had to have a liquor cabinet they could raid.
Steve’s eyebrows rose at Eddie’s suggestion. It was as if he had read Steve’s mind. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ll be right back,” he promised.
Eddie’s nervous smile dropped as soon as Steve left the room. Now, it was just him and the remains of the pot roast Steve had left on his plate and offered to Eddie. Eddie’s nose wrinkled at the thought of eating somebody else’s leftovers. Still, Mrs. Harrington’s cooking was too tasty to resist, and his stomach wasn’t full. He quickly finished Steve’s plate and set it back on the coffee table, trying not to think that that fork had been in Steve’s mouth, and then it had gone into his mouth, so technically, they had swapped spit.
*
It had been a while since Steve had raided his parents’ liquor cabinet. They had a wet bar upstairs for entertaining, but the cabinet was where the harder liquor was.
Steve rinsed and dried the dishes in the kitchen, tucking them back into their places. He paused and listened for any noise from upstairs before going to the cabinet. He crouched down on his knees in front of it and held his breath as he started to open it. The wood creaked incredibly loud. He paused again, but still not even a stir from upstairs.
He let out a breath when the doors were finally open. There was a good mix of bourbons, gins and whiskeys. American, Irish and Japanese. Steve grabbed one from the back. Surely, this bottle of Jameson wouldn’t be missed by his father. Steve groaned internally when the bottle clinked another as he pulled it out. He quickly shut the doors and stood up, then grabbed two whiskey tumblers from the bar and practically ran back to his room.
Unsure of where his nervousness had suddenly come from, Steve turned it into a confident grin directed at Eddie. He proudly showed him the green bottle and set the glasses on the coffee table while he used his mouth to help him open the bottle.
Eddie sighed thankfully when he saw the whiskey. MJ was wearing off. “You’re officially my favorite person right now, Harrington. Top of the list. Admittedly, a short list to begin with, but at the top, there you are.”
Steve could feel his cheeks warming. Even if it was just because he’d gotten them booze, he liked being liked. He wasn’t expecting praise from Eddie. Granted, he was harboring him, had fed him, shared his weed with him, and now they were going to drink together. As jealous as he felt when Dustin acted like Eddie had hung the fucking moon, he had really come around. Something about Eddie just made Steve want to take care of him.
Steve playfully shot the cap from his mouth in Eddie’s direction before pouring a good amount into each of their glasses.
Eddie laughed as the bottle cap hit him on the nose, batting it away. He leaned forward to grab one of the glasses. The lights flickered as he was about to take a sip, making him pause with the rim against his lips. They blinked again, a low buzzing in the air, then held their brightness. “That happen a lot?”
Please say yes, Eddie thought. He tipped the glass and swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, gulping against the burn.
“Nope,” Steve replied, throwing back the entire contents of his glass.
The burn distracted him through the lights flickering, and luckily, they didn’t continue. Steve sat back on the couch, bringing his glass and the bottle. He quickly refilled his cup and topped off Eddie’s before setting the bottle down. He just sipped this time. It stung his nose worse, and he felt his cheeks starting to get rosy again.
“Nothing good ever happens when the lights start to...” Steve gestured towards the lights, and they flickered in a heartbeating motion. Steve blinked a couple of times and looked at Eddie to ground himself.
It was going to be okay. They were safe. Everyone was safe. For now, Steve could feel his mind, probably from the booze, starting to help him let go of the fear that had been raging since the previous night.
“Ugh,” replied Eddie. His jaw clenched briefly with nerves, but the whiskey would calm him down in a few minutes. He just hoped Vecna wasn’t about to go for him or Steve right now.
Eddie distracted himself by moving to sit sideways on the couch, one leg folding underneath him so he could look at Steve instead of whatever ghostly shit was happening with the light bulbs. The movement made him aware of how closely they were sitting next to each other. His knee was only an inch away from touching Steve’s leg. Steve was already looking at him, his face flushed.
Looking at Eddie helped Steve, too. He was smiling. Was he getting drunk? Steve laughed, though he didn’t know what was funny other than he and Eddie Munson were hanging out and getting drunk. The turn of events couldn’t have been wilder.
Eddie didn’t think he’d be in this circumstance ever in his life, either. He understood why Steve was laughing.
“I never thought we’d hang out as badly as Dustin wanted me to play D&D with you guys,” Steve said. “What’s that even like? Is it actually fun?”
Steve couldn’t comprehend D&D the few times he’d been around when Dustin, Mike and Lucas had played. He chalked it up to something incredibly nerdy. He also knew he probably wasn’t smart enough to follow. On top of being competitive as hell, it just wasn’t for him, was it?
“Is it actually fun?” Eddie’s face quickly became animated. “Man, I wouldn’t have been playing it since I was thirteen if it wasn’t, so obviously, I think it is. Play isn’t even the right word. It’s not just a game, okay? It’s an adventure. And never the same adventure, either. Each campaign has a new story that unfolds differently.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes slightly, going on the defensive automatically and daring Steve to make fun of him. He was aware of Dustin’s eagerness to try and get Steve to join their party, though he’d been less than enthused at the idea of a former jock coming in and crapping all over their game. Actually, he had openly expressed his disdain—several times.
Eddie’s voice drew Steve right in. Steve tried to focus. While he always acted uninterested, he’d caught glimpses of the joy the game had brought his younger friends, and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t piqued his interest a time or two. Sure, he didn’t understand it—there were many things Steve had trouble comprehending—but it was part of why he was asking.
Steve could draw parallels between how he felt about sports and how Eddie felt about D&D. It wasn’t just a game. He’d said that, too when people had told him that losing the state championship wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just a game. Bullshit.
Eddie poked Steve in the shoulder. “Have you ever wanted to be someone else before? Be some where else? Somewhere where the normal world doesn’t exist, and magic does? Be a hero? Hell, maybe you want to be the loyal sidekick to the hero who gets to slack off and have a good fucking time. You can even play a villain if that’s your thing. You can create whatever sort of character you want. Be whoever you want.”
Steve felt himself starting to nod. There were times he had been the hero and the villain—in real life, though. “I don’t think I’ve ever really wanted to be someone else.” Steve had been pretty content with who he was. Now that he was done with sports and school, he felt more like himself than ever.
No, I guess you wouldn’t have, thought Eddie. What reason would King Steve have to want to change who he was? It must’ve been nice to feel so secure in himself growing up.
“I get the appeal, though. Wanting to be in a different place, be surrounded by different people and have magical powers…” Steve laughed at saying that out loud. It reminded him of El. Was she a real-life D&D character? “Tell me about some of your magical powers in DND.” He was genuinely interested. Was Eddie a hero or a villain? Did he use his powers for good or evil?
Eddie found no unkind laughter in Steve’s eyes when he searched them. Maybe because they were drinking, Steve was more open to conversation with the freak and his freaky game, but maybe he truly wanted to know. Eddie smiled at him then, warmer than he had all night.
The whiskey was absolutely hitting him now because Steve was beginning to take the shape of a handsome knight. A shiny coat of armour and a big sword would suit him.
Eddie had a habit of imagining what characters people would play. Jason Carver, for example, was a Sibriex: an enormous, hideously constructed demon that oozed blood and bile and smelled like rotting vegetation.
“I’ve cast many spells and wielded very powerful magic in my days, Sir Harrington.” That came out much flirtier than intended. Eddie swirled the whiskey in his glass instead of taking another sip. Too much more, and he’d be batting his eyes like a cheap tavern wench. “One of my personal favorites to cast is Fireball. Pretty self-explanatory, that one. It’s a low-level spell, but it always adds a bit of chaos and flair to the battlefield.”
Becoming enamored with Eddie's speech about the game, Steve listened intently and felt his face heat up rapidly. His cheeks were pink, probably from the whiskey, but could it have been from Eddie calling him Sir Harrington? Like the knight in shining armor he always craved to be. Who knew? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Steve couldn’t help but stare. Eddie was so animated and passionate. Steve was entranced. He was doing the impossible: making something incredibly nerdy sound cool.
“And then there’s Meteor Swarm. That one is just plain fun, man. It’s like Fireball on dru—”
The stereo turned on, whooshing with loud, dead air. It crackled at a volume of one hundred, overloading the speakers. The lights burned intensely bright, and the bulbs broke with a loud pop.
It startled Eddie so much that he was the one to reach out for Steve this time, grabbing his forearm and squeezing it hard as they were plunged into darkness. “Jesus!” Eddie hissed.
The screeching sound caused immediate pain in Steve’s ears. He was about to cover them with his hands to stop the piercing noise from hurting him further when it suddenly became silent. The speakers had blown.
Vecna was doing this. The Upside Down was creeping into Steve’s house, but why? He didn’t know or understand.
Eddie’s hold made him tense up because his grip was so strong, yet Steve could feel Eddie trembling behind the tight grasp. He didn’t know what to do and had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. From experience with the Upside Down, he knew whatever was happening wasn’t good. Vecna wasn’t done fucking with them yet.
Steve had an urge to run to his bed with Eddie. They could get under the covers and wait out whatever was happening. Pretend it wasn’t real and it wasn’t happening like they’d done when they were kids.
Unfortunately, they weren’t kids, and this wasn’t a fictional monster—the kind Steve’s dad would reassure him wasn’t there and wasn’t real. This was happening, and it was real. They couldn’t hide. It was something they had to face right now.
Maybe it was naive to believe that they were safe. Steve thought bringing Eddie there was a good idea and that his house would be a safe haven. Somehow, he thought it would still be okay.
Eddie was still holding on to him. Steve touched his arm. “Eddie, it’s alright,” he said confidently. Steve gave his arm a soothing rub and a reassuring squeeze.
Steve was touching him again. This time, it was probably because of Eddie’s death grip on his arm. He couldn’t see much of Steve in the dark, but his voice was calm, and his hands were soft like he put on lotion twenty times a day.
Steve was feeling lightheaded, trying to figure out what to do, not because of the situation or because Eddie’s touch was raising his blood pressure.
Eddie started to breathe normally again when the spell between them was broken.
“ROBERT!”
The scream made the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up even higher.
The next thing they heard was a loud thump directly above them, and immediately following, there was another softer thump. Steve’s eyes got big, and he jumped up, dismantling Eddie’s grip. “Mom? Dad?!”
Taking off, he ran up the stairs as fast as possible in the dark to see what was happening to them.
Eddie didn’t want to follow the cry of terror. He really didn’t want to. Every muscle in his body was locked, and screaming do not fucking run towards that it is BAD news, but Steve was already up, and Eddie couldn’t let him face this alone.
Scrunching his hands into fists, Eddie stood up. “Steve, wait!” he called.
Luckily, he hadn’t had so much whiskey that he couldn’t walk straight, but it seemed to be doing the trick in making him more courageous, thank Christ. He caught up with Steve when he was already at the top of the staircase, staring in frozen horror at a middle-aged woman who’d collapsed in front of a half-ajar door.
It was Mrs. Harrington, the maker of that wonderful pot roast—the maker of Steve.
Eddie touched Steve’s shoulder before kneeling beside her with him. She looked ashen and unmoving. Eddie pressed two fingers against her neck, searching. He waited a few seconds before looking up and admitting, “I don’t… I don’t feel a pulse.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie fic#steddiebang23#stranger things#stranger things fanfic
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It had been a week or so since that impulsive discussion about moving in. Well, not really impulsive on his side; Petra had thought about it for weeks just couldn't come up with a way to broach the subject until it had all but fallen out of his mouth. But it had led to this, and it felt right. "I can get a truck if you need one?" He could borrow one of the guard trucks to transport her belongings if needed; save back and forth journeys. Letting Selena pull him along by the hand through the refugee sector, Petra kept having to dip his head below the low-hanging signs and flags for the different nationalities. "... though I don't think we'd get a truck down these streets, to be honest."
This was actually happening. She had told Nyx, bracing herself for a look of annoyance or a cutting comment about Petra, but it hadn't come. Not even from Libertus, and Selena had told them when they had been alone at Yama's, so their calm responses hadn't been because of a warning look from Pelna or a kick below the table from Crowe.
Nyx had been happy for her. And maybe she was reading far too much into something small, but had a part of him been relieved? And Yama too, joking about how she'd be handing in her notice next, telling him that she had a new job in one of the districts closer to the citadel. She had joked and laughed and told him to stop being silly, but the bar-owner had waited until Nyx and Libertus had settled at their table, distracted by Luche, when he'd grabbed her elbow and quietly told her to take any opportunity that came her way with both hands.
"I don't think we'll need one." Selena answered over her shoulder, leading Petra further into the maze narrow streets of the refugee sector.
A lot of clothes had already taken up residence in Petra's closest, piece by piece over the last few months, so that meant that at least those bits didn't need to be packed up and moved. Tightening her hold on his hand, Selena twisted through a throng of folks standing around a stall - her steps quick and short, weeding her way through the narrow streets, nary giving a second through to the obstacles that affronted Petra - the low hanging signs, the fluttering banners and bunting, exposed pipes and crates making the narrow walkways even smaller as she tugged him along to the foot of a metal staircase that made hollow thungs with their steps up to her apartment.
There just - there wasn't much, but it had been enough. A small kitchenette that had been stocked with the basic plates and cups and bowls needed, a single bed next to a narrow closet, a threadbare couch and a small television that she had bought from her first paycheck. A small desk over by the window with some books stacked on the floor and mementos on the table.
"I, uhm, I didn't come here with much luggage," Selena pulled a face, forcing a quiet laugh as she opened the door, a dusting of pink flushing her cheeks as she held the door to her little bedsit open for Petra.
@luciancityguard
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Chapter 6: valley trip part 2
I’m leaving ateez…
The word replayed in the members heads all night, no one slept, not even the staff members. Everyone too shocked at the leader words; yet somehow they’d expected this, the pressure of being transgender in an industry like this wasn’t going to be easy, especially not when he was also expecting a child at such a young age. The night came and went, no one knew what to say, no one knew what this trip would bring. It was roughly 8am when Hongjoong hauled himself out of bed to take care of his morning sickness, Seonghwa hot on his heels to make sure his boyfriend was alright.
Wooyoung was the first to break the eerie silence, “do you think he meant it? Or do you think he was just upset?” Yunho sighed, “both. I’ve never seen his face so serious, I think the shit he’s gotten from staff didn’t help.” The staff members all nodded in agreement, Gia; one of the makeup artist spoke up. “You know, maybe we should weed out the members of staff that have been giving him a hard time, make sure to give Hongjoong-ah a safe space in the company at least.” Everyone turned to the small woman. “That’s not a bad idea, but how would we do that?” Soohyun, a manager spoke.
Mingi spoke up next, “we do an anonymous survey, created by the members. We’re all queer too, it’s not just Hongjoong.” The members nodded, “it’s not fair for our leader to suffer when all of us are lgbt identitying.” Yeosang agreed. The staff smiled amongst themselves, “we can do that.”
•🏳️🌈•
Hongjoong panted as he clutched the toilet bowl, his knuckles white from how strong his grip was; barely able to register his boyfriend beside him. “You’re okay, just let it all out.” Seonghwa was worried, Hongjoong was stressed, and his body was showing the signs. The stress would be bad for the baby, he needed to fix this. “You know, you should think about your…” , “ I’m not debuting under a company where managers are gonna call me shit!” Hongjoong snapped, Seonghwa’s eyes widened. The small, soft looking Hongjoong was replaced with an angry, hurt Hongjoong. The worst part was, he had every right to be angry.
“At least think about it during this trip. We’re here all weekend.” Hongjoong got up, wiping his mouth. “I know, I’ll put on a show for the camera then what? I go back to being the tranny that got knocked up!?” Tears fell down his face, a hiccup leaving the boy. “That’s not who I am! I’m Kim Hongjoong, but more than that I’m gonna be a father, to your child!” Seonghwa hugged his boyfriend tightly, letting his small body relax against him. “I know, I know baby.” Soft kisses pressing to the top of his head. “Shhh, it’s okay.” He’d make sure Hongjoong would debut, and if he didn’t. Then Seonghwa wouldn’t debut either.
When the pair came out of the bathroom the other members were working on something at the kitchen table. “What are you heathens up to?” Hongjoong slipped into an empty chair. “We’re making a survey, what’s in the best interest for an lgbt kpop group!” Wooyoung spoke proudly. Seonghwa tilted his head, sitting next to Hongjoong and taking his hand. “What’s that for?” Jongho didn’t look up when he spoke, “to make sure Hongjoong has a safe environment to debut. If you drop out of Ateez so do we.” Hongjoong’s heart swelled up with happiness, they’d defend him? Just like that? Shaking his head he smiled, “how about we go swimming after? I want to have a bit of fun before I’m on bed rest until my baby is born.”
San nodded, “speaking of which, have you two thought about the dorm situation with the baby?” They hadn’t. They hadn’t thought about where their baby would sleep, who would watch the baby while they were overseas, during schedules. “We have time.” Seonghwa held Hongjoong’s hand, seven months. They had time. “Don’t stress it, you have us to help! We’re the baby’s uncles after all.” The group members finished up their work before taking the papers to the staff.
“Now let’s go have fun!”
The group had headed down to the pool once they were all changed, Hongjoong deciding to take a moment to relax on one of the lounge chairs before joining the others in the water, already tired from the walk. “He’s already getting tired from such little activity, is he going to be alright?” San asked. Yeosang nodded, “he will be, his body is changing. It’s normal for pregnancy to make you tired easier.” Seonghwa stayed near the edge of the pool, mostly to keep an eye on his boyfriend who was curled up on his phone, a pillow under his head. “Hongjoong don’t lay directly in the sun at least get some shade.” Hongjoong only nodded in response. “I will.” Yunho came behind Seonghwa, spraying him with a water gun. “Hey come on have fun! He’s gonna be fine.” Seonghwa perused his lips. “Yeah I guess so, I’m just worried.” Yunho smiled, “I know, but hovering over him isn’t going to help.” Seonghwa nodded, “okay, I’m totally getting you back by the way!” Yunho laughed as he swam away. Hongjoong had been recording on his phone and laughed, stopping the recording he was about to play it back when a notification popped up.
Mom: I’ve heard you’re keeping your baby. Don’t contact me anymore. You’re no son of mine. *you have been blocked by this contact*
His blood ran cold, teeth clenching. So that was it? His own mother wouldn’t be in her grandchild’s life? That was fine. Blocking the number back he stood up, “I’m coming in, no splashing!” He stepped into the cold water, shivering a bit. “It’s about time lazy ass!” Wooyoung called jokingly. “Who are you calling lazy ass-aish!” Two arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him into the water. “Park Seonghwa!” He shrieked playfully, holding onto his boyfriend. “It’s about time you got out of your spot and enjoyed the water.” Hongjoong smiled, cupping his boyfriend’s face to kiss him. Seonghwa happily kissed him back, suddenly a rush of cold water made the two separate. “Hey!” Hongjoong splashed back in defense. Laughing happily, it made Seonghwa’s heart warm to see his boyfriend having a good time.
•
•
“You guys are harassing Hongjoong!” The ceo yelled through the screen, the staff had been called to an emergency meeting with the CEO. “We aren’t! It’s one of us.” Soohyun pointed towards Minjae, the manager who’d started the whole debacle. “He shouldn’t be in the group! His pregnancy is going to slow them down and who’s going to watch that fucking infant when it’s born!” The ceo had heard enough, “Minjae; maybe this company isn’t for you, I’d like to ask you to leave and clean out your office. You’ve been terminated. The rest of you, just keep the group happy for the weekend. I’ll address the issues with them once their schedules have settled. For now, if Hongjoong doesn’t want to be filmed don’t film him. Understood.” , “understood.”
•
•
The members had decided they were finished in the pool after a splash fight and a water gun battle, sitting on the edge of the pool with watermelon now as they chatted about their schedules. “Hongjoong-ah, what are you really going to do? Are you really leaving?” Wooyoung asked. Hongjoong hummed, stuffing a piece of watermelon into his mouth. “I was just pissed off, still am. I’ve never been treated with respect as a trans person and honestly, the pregnancy is gonna make getting recognized as a man even harder. I don’t want to leave the group but…maybe I should to give you guys less hassle.” Mingi shook his head. “No way, we’re with you all the way! You’re our captain so stay!” The other members shared their agreement.
Hongjoong’s heart was full as he leaned into Seonghwa, his boyfriend rubbing his shoulder. “Alright; I’ll stay. But only if you guys change dirty diapers for the first month.” , “deal.” The group laughed, enjoying the rest of their day by the poolside. Heading back up to the house was a task, Seonghwa carried a sleeping Hongjoong on his back while the other members ran past him waving sparklers they’d found from god knows where. Hongjoong was staying, he’d debut with them; looking back at his sleeping boyfriend he smiled.
As soon as they entered the house Seonghwa took Hongjoong straight to bed, quietly working the sleeping male out of his wet clothes and into some dry ones. He was about to change when his phone rang, his mother’s phone number flashing on the screen. Quickly grabbing the phone he answered, “hey mom what’s up!?” , “Honey is Hongjoong there?” , “yeah we’re at a house in the valley for filming why what’s going on?” He could hear rustling, then keys jingling. “I’m on my way to meet with his mother. She contacted me.” Seonghwa arched his brow. “For what?” His mother sighed, “to gather Hongjoong’s things from her. She doesn’t want her son.”
Seonghwa’s heart dropped, turning to look at his sleeping boyfriend. His mother was abandoning him? Just like that. “Don’t say anything to him. I’m sure she’s already contacted him.” Seonghwa hummed, “I won’t.” His mother spoke softly. “I’m going to get you two an apartment near KQ, I’ll even talk to the company and see if it’s alright. I’ll pay all the bills and take care of getting food stocked and the place furnished. Just have fun okay?” , “yeah okay mom.” She hummed. “Goodbye son.” , “bye mom.”
Seonghwa sighed as he hung up. This pregnancy journey and road to debut just got a hell of a lot harder.
|| it’s about to get angsty, sorry it’s so short but I wanted to leave on a cliffhanger. I promise things get better for the young couple and their little bean.
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When i was 18, my dad, brother and I did a road trip to Ottawa, mostly because we felt like it. So we go in late April/early May, leave at 5am and then get to Ottawa around 5pm. We hang out with our hosts for a few hours, get high, and then go to bed. There’s an hour time difference which probably shouldn’t matter but, alas, my dad and I at the time were early risers so 6am for us is 5am in Ottawa.
So my dad and I wake up at 5am, hang out for a bit, go for a drive and then, finally, decide to wake and bake around 6:30. We get unspeakably high and then force my brother to drive us to the closest McDonald’s. I am absolutely zooted, practically floating through space, solely focused on my quest of acquiring an egg McMuffin. While I am locked in, my dad, also zooted but not as much, is making conversation and making people laugh. When we get up to the counter, an old guy who is obviously new at his job is taking our order. We all make friendly conversation for a second since it’s fucking 6:50am and no one else is in line.
This is when we find out it’s McHappy Day which is basically just a day where they raise money for the local Ronald McDonald house. I get a pair of socks while giggling profusely, meanwhile my dad and this old man keep taking. My dad is telling him how he and I opened a record store together and how my step mom is holding down the for in our absence. I don’t know, my dad has a charisma stat that is well above what I’ve seen in any other human being, so this happens fairly regularly.
My dad eventually gives the old man a sticker and, to my fucking shock, being absolutely fucking macaroni’d, feeling like a fucking alien, the old man asks to take a picture with us for his social media. Before I can even process what’s happening, my dad agrees and this man poses with us and someone who I cannot remember being involved takes our picture. I don’t remember much of anything outside of wanting an egg McMuffin and a pair of socks because I had just ripped three bowls of mystery weed, but I do remember thinking “well hopefully I don’t look too high” because, at the time, weed was illegal in Canada and also my mom did not know that I smoked.
After that, we secure our breakfast and then go about our day. I think my dad kind of knew that the old guy was in some sort of office, but I certainly fucking didn’t. So imagine my surprise when I look at the store’s instagram and see that we’ve been tagged in a photo by the fucking deputy mayor of the capital of fucking Canada. For those wondering, yes i absolutely did look fucking high. As did my dad. I looked like I was right out of a fucking Cheech and Chong bit; my eyes were so fucking small and my smile was so fucking wide that I looked like I had gone rip for rip with Willie Nelson. My dad looked like he had just gained consciousness in that very moment like he’d just been caught by a fucking cop or something.
All these years later I still cannot figure out if the deputy mayor knew we were fucking high as kites or if he was just trying to make a post to say “hey these guys would vote for me if they lived here!” because on god what the fuck. My dad and I will occasionally just remember that this happened and bring up the picture to laugh about it because what else can you even fucking do? Like we both look like shit, especially me since I had given myself really shit bangs a week before, so ever since it’s just been one of those things where if we didn’t have the picture to prove it, both of us would have thought it was a shared hallucination.
#captain’s log#bro like what do you even do in that situation?#I also need to stress that I was high that entire fucking trip like the amount of jazz cabbage I ingested that week was diabolical#I think the only sober moment I had was when I visited my childhood best friend
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Villareal Household: Chapter 4, Part 2
More Villareal drama, Devin is an actress after all. The newborns are home but things start to get rocky for Luna when she has trouble producing milk. Devin does her best to be supportive and their families visit for Harvestfest. At the end the boys become infants.
Context: The magic of game code allowed my two female sims to have biological twins. Again gameplay in this part would not be possible without the Child Birth Mod by PandaSama, specifically the lactation for Luna.
Saturday evening and we're all back home. Rilian is in the left bassinet in a blue onesie. Alfred is on the right in a green onesie. Both were lovingly knitted by nonna Calista. The skintones are throwing me off a bit, they don't seem to match either parent. Hopefully this changes on age up.

Luna's milk production doesn't seem to have started yet so she takes a cookie meant to help lactation before her nap. Devin finishes her nap and is delighted to find it wasn't all a dream, her sons are here. She calls Callista to tell her, and confirm they will still host Harvestfest tomorrow

Devin: I hope I didn't wake you
Luna: I needed to eat, why is my milk not coming in?
Devin: Amore every woman is different
Luna: I'll try pumping, hopefully I'll get something
Devin: Well hello Rilian. Come here, mama will feed you some nice formula while mummy works on her milk
Luna: *sighs sadly*

Devin: Hi there Alfred. Do you want some yummy formula huh
Luna: Nothing from that one, I'll try the other side
Devin: We can have formula in the meantime, can't we boys
Rilian: *wails*
Luna: It's my fault, he's hungry
Devin: Lu I just fed him, he can't be hungry
Luna: *sadly* mummy is trying

Luna: I don't know what I'm doing wrong
Devin: You're not doing anything wrong, Rilian just inherited my drama skills
Luna: I feel bad
Devin: Lu they'll survive if you can't produce milk
Luna: But they said breast is best
Devin: They also said leeches were an infallible cure

Luna: How do you know that word
Devin: TV
Luna: I'll have another cookie and try again
Devin: Just remember, they wouldn't make baby formula if it wasn't safe for babies to have
Luna tries again. She doesn't mind having a small chest but worries that's part of the problem with her milk supply.

Luna: SCHATZ! I got some
Devin: Well done Lu
Rilian: *Wails*
Devin: OMW I know you're not hungry yet
Luna: I'll give him some cuddles. Hey buddy, mummy is here
Rilian: *sniffs*
Luna: Next feed you'll have real milk, I promise. And so will you Alfred
Alfred: *blinks*
Luna: They're so perfect

And far too soon
Rilian: *wails*
Devin: Yep, you're hungry, got it
Luna: I'll try get some more milk
Devin: Are you sure you don't want to feed them
Luna: You do it, I need to try get our stock up
Devin: Lu you're not failing as a mum if you can't get breast milk
Luna: I wish it felt like that

Devin: How can I help
Luna: Keep buying the cookies
Devin: Lu-
Luna: I just want to try for a bit longer, please
Devin: You're the boss of your body, but they'll love you whether you're feeding them milk or formula, I promise
Luna scoops up each boy before heading back to bed, waiting on her milk.

Harvestfest is here! When Devin wakes up Luna is already busy trying to pump so she decides to take care of the morning chores. Sleep seems to have done Luna good and she's able to get two bottles ready for when her sons wake up.

After appeasing a gnome Devin thinks she can fit in a run before the boys wake up. Like normal she streams it to keep her fame up.
Paparazzi: Mrs Villareal! How are your babies? Can you confirm names
Devin: Good morning Ali. No comment
Ali: Understood
Devin: Have a good Harvestfest Ali
Ali: You to

Luna appeases the other gnomes and gets stuck into her gardening. She enjoys looking after the plants, especially her flowers harvested from the romance festival. It's so much easier to weed now that she doesn't have a bowling ball belly. Hopefully the gnomes will bring new seeds.

Luna tells Devin she's happy gardening so Devin does the next feed.
Devin: Can you taste a difference Alfred? Mummy worked extra hard on this for you
Rilian: *wails*
Devin: Yes she got some for you to caro
After a few extra cuddles Devin goes to practice the lines for her next gig tomorrow night.

Luna: Three, four- how many do we need
Devin: Uh my parents, my siblings, Deanna will probably bring Paris, your brothers, and your sister in law, oh and us, 11, may as well do the whole table
Rilian: *wails*
Luna: Sounds like a, change me now cry, I got him
*Doorbell*
Devin: I'll get that

Devin: Come and eat! Joey made this meal for us earlier
Joey: Because I'm the best brother
Kelly: And you wonder why I'm evil
Aaron: Where's Luna
Devin: Diaper emergency
Calista: I remember those
Paris: How are the- bambinos? Is that the right word
Deanna: *nods*
Devin: They're so small but lovely

Luna: They have Devin's eyes
Aaron: The hero returns
Joey: I knew you could push them out
Devin: She was amazing, it was such hard work
Hugo: Hard work sounds like my sister
Luna: I've missed you
Hugo: Sorry, work's hectic
Luna: Where's Max
Hugo: Where do you think, eating inside with Miriam

Hugo: Anything you need me to do
Luna: Can you produce milk
Hugo: Nope
Calista: Are you having trouble
Luna: I shouldn't complain really
Aaron: You should complain. When we had our kids I always told Calista-
Calista: Tell me everything even if I can't help
Hugo: I'll take these dishes
Luna: Thanks

Luna: I only get milk about half the time
Calista: Don't believe those blogger mums, substituting with formula is fine
Aaron: Joey got mostly formula
Joey: And I'm a genius remember
Luna: Think you'll have kids Miriam?
Miriam: Why would I want to be pregnant, looks shit
Devin: Ma, pa, you ready

Calista: We're coming
Devin: This is Alfred, he was born first. Alfred this is your nonna
Calista: Hello bambino
Luna: Then we have Rilian. Rilian this is your nonno
Aaron: Deanna and Kelly are pretty pale but these two might have them beat
Luna: We'll see when they're infants

Once everyone has left it's time. Luna and Devin get in position and manage to start the age up on the boys at the same time. Will I ever get sick of this animation? No, no I will not.

They're looking pretty identical. Quick makeover. Alfred is on the left. Since he had a green shirt on, green is his first favourite colour. He'll also have green socks for identification. Rilian had a yellow shirt so yellow will be his colour. He has blue socks for identification.

Alfred rolled the sensitive trait while Rilian rolled the cautious trait. Both boys have already unlocked their first smile milestone, smiling at their parents as soon as they aged up. First things first, some tummy time. The boys have to learn how to work their necks.

Alfred: *cries*
Devin: I feel so bad
Luna: Please stop crying boys
Devin: Mama is right here caro
Rilian: *lifts head*
Luna: Well done baby
Devin: Did you hear that Alfred. Don't you want to learn like your brother
Alfred: *lifts head*
Devin: Thank you, see you survived
Luna: We better get them down

Rilian sleeps easy enough but he gets sad about being put down. Turns out he has the Loves Being Held quirk. Alfred has more trouble. He has the Gassy quirk which makes his poor tummy sore. He also has the Frequently Hiccups quirk. Luckily Devin soothes him to sleep and kisses Rilian goodnight.

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#sims 4#the sims#the sims 4#Rotation7#ChangingPlumbobStorytime#VillarealHousehold#RilianVillareal#DevinVillareal#AlfredVillareal#LunaVillareal#JoeyYork#KellyYork#AaronYork#CalistaYork#ParisPearl#DeannaYork#R0707
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sleep paralysis and inviting negativity in
i experienced sleep paralysis for the first time. immediately after waking up from it i sent a voice message to my roommate and my girlfriend telling them what happened. i felt like id been attacked in the night, not like id woken up from a dream. dreaming is not so common for me since i smoke so much weed. but most of the dreams i do have are nightmares. i think those just stick out the most. a typical nightmare for me includes lots of teeth falling out anxiety. its stress in my life manifesting when ive not been addressing it properly in my waking life. theres honestly many things in my life i dont address properly. i should make a list of those things probably. but i will do that later. my sleep paralysis happened on a monday night. the week prior my roommate and i had an honestly traumatic experience together involving a show at our basement venue. it all centered around this lana del rave we hosted. but this subject i absolutely can not get in to. it did though bring a lot of negativity in to our lives. i honestly havent cried that much since deciding to drop out of college in january 2020. its almost certainly what brought on my sleep paralysis. or invited this demon in to my bedroom. or whatever it was. bad energy. my sleep started off all wrong. i fell asleep sitting up watching true detective season one sexy matthew ma con a hey idk how to spell it with my roommate. after that i decided it was time to put myself to bed. but i couldnt be bothered to wash my face or brush my teeth as these days ive been hopelessly depressed. went to bed in my dirty sheets with my dirty face and dirty teeth... in an effort to save myself from being a complete failure. i put on the crystal bowl sound bath chakra healing vibrations album on spotify and set it to repeat. i fell asleep to the crystal bowl vibrations really easily. at first i had normal type dreams. i was in my middle school cafeteria but for some reason it was a high school reunion. i was wearing a backpack and feeling embarrassed about it. my old classmates tried talking to me but i couldnt speak because i kept stress eating candy and then stress chewing on the wrappers and drooling everywhere. i think at one point i was trying to answer a facetime with my friend who lives in new york. then the scene changed. i walk in to a room that is bright and all white with a backdrop hanging, a camera, clothing racks. a man and a woman are standing in the middle of the room waiting to greet me. i looked right at them but i dont know what they look like. "congratulations" they said "you made the call back" i felt very sick suddenly. i told them that i didnt feel well and asked if they would pick my outfits for me. then i laid down under the clothing rack to rest. as they were pulling clothes out above me the man pulled a knit sweater off the rack. it honestly kind of looks like this sweater we sell at urban outfitters. as he pulled it out the yarn began to unravel. it tangled around my neck somehow and the more he pulled the tighter it got around my neck and it felt like a rug burn as it choked me. i tried to yell out "stop, stop, stop" over and over again but i couldnt really audibly yell. this happens to me a lot in my dreams. as im getting over the fear of being choked and start to realize that im dreaming i wake up. i open my eyes and im laying in my bed. but i am not actually awake. it is still a dream actually because i rolled over in bed to see that someone else was asleep on my right. i felt so scared honestly exactly how id feel if i experienced this in real life. i didnt remember falling asleep with anyone. did i black out drunk was a thought i had. i reached out to touch the person in my bed, they looked small i thought maybe it could be my friend em. when i touched their back this person or thing sat up abruptly and began to shriek. that is not em i knew immediately. it felt like it was screaming in fear like id startled it awake. as the high pitched shriek continued another figure that i had not noticed rose up from the end of my bed and began to shriek as well.
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Post #2
The amount of cigarettes I’m smoking is insane for someone with no income! It’s time to ration. It would be cheaper to roll my own… but I don’t know how to roll. Maybe now is the time to finally learn? I digress. We will worry about that at a later time n date.
I have a close friend who employs me to give him rides home from work. Usually every Monday he needs a ride home from work around 8:10 pm because he goes in at 8 something the next day. Occasionally he asks for rides from the local trolley stop that’s about a 10 minute drive from my house.
I bring this up because my weekly income is about $28 on a good week.
So I need to chill on the tobacco.
Things were easier when I smoked spliff bowls (mole bowls, moke bowls, party bowls, whatever u wanna call them) which is cannabis mixed with tobacco. I’ve purchased a great many bags of bugler tobacco. It’s much more cost effective then buying a pack of cigs. The bugler pouch is roughly good for about 30 cigs versus the 20 you find pre rolled. It costs $7/$8 while a pack of cigs is $10/$11
I had purchased a joint rolling machine and filters earlier this year to roll my own. I found it just didn’t hit the same. I also proceeded to break the joint roller. A common theme in my life. Breaking useful objects due to carelessness and or intoxication. If only y’all knew me when I did XANAX and drank heavily while popping. I broke so many things… three lovely bongs, a babyliss hair straightener, bottles, and endured countless bruises and scratches. I also strained some of my personal relationships as you don’t give a single solitary FUCK when your xanned out.
So moral of the story is I am going to start rationing out my cigarettes.
I might buy a vape but I have to go on the black market for one and it seems like such a hassle.
Smoking cigarettes may seem glamorous and look cool. It feeds my oral fixation. But it makes you stink. I literally need to buy gum, scented hand sanitizer, and a small bottle of body spray so I don’t smell bad.
Wish my luck my loves! It ain’t easy trying to kick my vices.
It’s also 12:19 a.m. while I write this. My brain is tired but my body is on high alert. I do suffer from insomnia and weed helps that a lot.
It’s tough to learn how to live my life with out mind altering substances. I also find myself becoming more irritable. I might need to up the dosage on my medicine. I also kind of want to ask my doctor for sleeping pills… but it seems wrong? Since they have a potential for abuse. It would be nice to actually be able to fall asleep around the same time every night. I’ll probably be up until 2 or 3.
If I fall asleep before that I usually wake between 3 and 4 to pee. Then toss and turn till 6 or 7. Get up, smoke a cigarette and if I’m lucky fall back a sleep for a bit. I awake groggy and feeling worse than when I first woke. But still I nap after waking up. It’s a vicious cycle.
I’m going to start wearing my FitBit smart watch to bed again so I can track my sleep. It lets you know how many times you wake up, how deep your sleep was, etc. and it gives you a sleep score for the night. I want to see if my sleep is truly fucked up enough to constitute medicine. The less pills I’m on the better. But sleep is important and staying up late with my thoughts is not the most pleasant experience.
At least now I have you guys to talk and write to, to pass the time.
Restlessly,
D
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