#just not enough to stop the grill catching on fire

[victorluvsalice]

-->...and then Guidry appeared right between Victor and Alice. Which did NOT stop them from getting their kiss on. Talk about making things awkward. XD No wonder Smiler retreated to the barn to practice their mixology -- even getting bonked on the head by a loose cocktail shaker was better than watching the world’s flirtiest ghost third-wheel their partner and their metamour! And it got them up to Mixology 6, which was nice.

-->Alice and Victor eventually broke apart, with Alice doing some more painting while Victor did a bit of last-minute gardening. Guidry ended up following him into the greenhouse and commandeering the grill there for, of all things, some Herbalism! I had no idea he knew how to do that!

-->...except he kind of DOESN’T, because he managed to set the grill on fire. Victor was on the case immediately with the extinguisher, but it still freaked everyone out, to the point where Victor and Alice fled to the front of the house and Alice started crying. :( Thanks a lot, Guidry. >( Fortunately the fire never spread beyond the grill thanks to Victor’s quick action, and a Repairio took care of the damage there, but damn. Not a good way to end the day!

-->You know what a better way to end the day is? Smiler finding a specter and handing over the Flaming Zesty they made, and getting another Bizarre Idol in return! Nice! Now they have one for both the first floor and the second floor. :) Just have to find a nice place to put it. . .

-->You know what a worse way to end the day is? The damn house making all sorts of spooky noises while Victor is trying to have his dinner and he and Alice are trying to get some sleep and terrifying them both. Fortunately, THIS time I finally remembered I have sacred candles in Victor’s inventory, and so put some out to try and make them feel better. And as it turns out, these things drain fear like nobody’s business -- I can’t believe I wasn’t using them before! Definitely gonna have to invest in loads of them now! And they make for a very cool eerie nightlight. :)

And so this update ends with Victor and Alice finally getting some sleep by the glow of the creepy candles, and Smiler indulging in a nice bath. :) Next time --

Well, next time is actually gonna be one of two “building” interludes! Because I played around with a build loosely based on a Corpse Bride location after one of the patches, AND more recently did some more upgrades to the Valicer house! So you’ll see one of those next week, and the other the week after. :) Until then!

[pamperedollie]

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XOXO. જ⁀➴ ONE

. ۫ ꣑ৎ "you look great,"

summary. your mother’s high-society dinner party pulls you into the orbit of the vanderbilt siblings—a tense exchange with drew, an electrifying moment with harris, and a night that takes an unexpected, chaotic turn.

word count. 3.9k

warnings. underage drinking, cheating, language

You trudge into your bedroom, dragging your feet beneath you as your legs burn like fire. Your brain feels foggy, and all you want to do is close your eyes. You flop onto your bed and sigh. You don’t miss this feeling—you hate it, in fact. Today was your first day back at your internship after being on vacation, and you’re now weeks behind on your work. You stayed four hours late today just to catch up.

“Honey, could you help me in here?” your mom calls out from the living room, her voice in a sing-song tone. Could she have chosen a worse time? You feel your soft mattress sinking beneath you, but you force yourself up, trudging toward the door with the weight of the day dragging you down.

As you pass through the kitchen, the conflicting sweet aroma of rich vanilla and the smoky scent of the grill surprisingly pair together nicely, instilling you with a slight sense of calm. All you want is to sit still and enjoy it. But instead, you drag yourself into the living room.

“Why do you always insist on doing these things yourself? You’ll end up hurting yourself again,” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You already begin to regret it as your mom turns to glare at you. She’s holding one of her signature curated art pieces—one she only brings out for these dinner parties. She says it “sparks conversation.”

“We’ve been through this! Your father helps cook dinner, and I fix up the house,” she adds, adjusting the frame. “I really don’t even do that much anyway…”

You can’t help but laugh, looking around the penthouse. You observe the meticulously arranged dinner table, the balcony doors slightly ajar letting in a breeze that feels almost intentional. Your father is directing a small army of dessert and dinner caterers around the kitchen, and floral arrangements adorn every corner of the home. You sigh. “Sure, Mom. Whatever you say!”

It may not sound like a typical dinner party, but your mom takes these events very seriously. These so-called dinner parties rarely have a guest list under one hundred people; they are extravagant affairs where the rich and elite fight tooth and nail for the juiciest gossip and the chance to one-up each other with tales of their latest business ventures and lavish vacations. You loathe every second of it and would just stay in your room the entire time if it weren’t for your parents.

But it isn’t all bad.

There’s one frequent guest you can tolerate—barely—Ryan Bennett. She was born into a family of doctors and therapists and raised only by her father. In a world of superficial people, she’s genuinely sweet—the most authentic person you know in a never-ending sea of snakes. She’s mature, which suits her since her father is a behavioral therapist, and she hopes to follow in his footsteps. Ryan is the kind of girl you wish you could be more like—a diamond in a sea of pearls. Although she does have her flaws...

Ryan is impossible to keep up with when it comes to relationships. Once one ends, it’s on to the next. Now, this would be fine if her taste wasn’t exclusively in older men—college students, CEOs; it didn’t matter. As soon as she turned eighteen, she tossed aside anyone her age. 

---

Time slips through your fingers as you sit at your vanity, staring at your reflection for hours, covering every blemish and pimple, applying just enough blush until it looks like you’ve just come back from a romantic walk in the snow. Your dress of choice is gold; it covers you down to your feet and hugs your figure like a glove. Its silk drapes elegantly at your chest. You carefully brush each section of your hair, rolling each strand into perfect curls. The tension in your shoulders aches, but what can you say? You love a flawless blowout.

KNOCK KNOCK

With rollers still clinging to your head and your setting powder baking under your eyes, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your parents aren’t knockers; they’re more of the “coming in!” types, barging in without a second thought. But it’s only six; the party hasn’t even started. Panic fills your entire body from head to toe.

“Who is it?” you ask, holding your breath.

“Me, dummy!” a familiar voice calls from the other side of the door. You release a deep sigh of relief and shuffle to the door.

Ryan steps inside, plopping down onto your bed like it’s her own. She looks you up and down. “The invitation said formal wear clubbing,” she jokes, raising an eyebrow as she assesses your outfit.

You glance her up and down as she smooths the hem of her glittery black mini dress. Her stilettos click as she crosses her legs. “Okay…” you tease, eyeing her from head to toe.

“What?” she giggles, unbothered. “I heard the Vanderbilts are coming.”

You laugh, leaning back against your chair. “You going after the dad next?” you remark, knowing full well where this conversation is headed.

“Oh, not yet,” she yawns, stretching her limbs as if she’s just getting started. “I’m saving him until I’m twenty-five and he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis.” You can’t help but laugh at how nonchalantly she says it

“Then who?” you question, leaning back a little more.

“Harris, the oldest,” she replies without hesitation, a gleam in her eyes.

You gasp. Harris? The model child of the Vanderbilt family? Currently studying law at Yale? He’s back?

“Yes, he’s back, staying till winter’s over,” she adds, almost as if she could read your mind—and casually at that. You’re not surprised Ryan would know all this; she’s almost always the first to know when it comes to this stuff. Ryan’s a silent observer of the world around her, and it’s kind of charming how perceptive she is.

A short while later, you get up from your vanity and fall back onto the bed, the weight of it all sinking in. “I’m so tired of it all, Ryan,” you admit without thinking.

She shifts on the bed to face you, looking… concerned. “What’s up?” she asks.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should burden her with the mess that is your life and ruin the mood. But Ryan’s always been the one you could talk to about this stuff; she’s never not been there for you.

“You can tell me anything, Y/N,” she reassures you, smiling softly.

You can’t hold it in anymore. “Well, there’s the internship… I feel like I’m invisible. My boss doesn’t recognize me for anything.” You exhale sharply, looking up, trying to stop the tears from bubbling in your eyes. “Then school—God, I’ve been so worked up from the stress of my internship that I’ve forgotten what’s going on in any of my classes.” You can feel the frustration and exhaustion release from your body.

Ryan’s eyes soften. “Listen, Y/N, this is gonna sound so shitty, but hear me out,” her voice lowers, quieter now. “You’re too humble for your own good. You’re ashamed of your privilege, trying your hardest to get by without it, but—” she laughs, “You have the opportunity to forget about school and really take on fashion fully—but you’d rather try to juggle the two? Trust me when I say so many girls would kill to have something to fall back on if school doesn’t go well.” The weight of her words hits you hard.

You’ve spent so much time hating your wealth and power, wishing it away, but now, in the quiet of your room, you realize how fucking stupid that is.

“I hate how right you are sometimes,” you admit.

You and Ryan finish the final touches of your hair and makeup and head outside the room. The space is crowded, the sounds of expensive chatter and clinking glasses ringing in your ears. You take in the sea of faces you know all too well.

Businessmen who can’t separate work from play, the silver-spooned socialites, trophy wives, and burnout trust-fund kids—including… the worst of them all.

Alexa Esparza, heiress to her family’s billion-dollar hotel chain, and an absolute snake. Then Evan Ortigas, the burnout skater who thinks rolling out of bed qualifies as getting ready. His father owns a massive production company, so Evan never really had to try at life. Damson Sinclair, probably the most genuine out of all of them���he was just so annoyingly rich, his family founded the largest tech company in the world. Surprisingly, Damson never fell back on his wealth; he’s actually a straight-A student and an amazing coder. He’s just shitty by association. Then worst of all, Drew Vanderbilt. The Vanderbilts were all lawyers—like literally every Vanderbilt—hence why they’re such assholes. Drew is the walking embodiment of privilege and arrogance.

All they really did was gossip, party, and… nope, that’s it.

You’ve seen it all before—their reckless antics at almost every event. They’d get high and/or drunk and act like they own the world, making absolute fools of themselves. Once, you caught Evan HOOKING UP in YOUR ROOM. What really gets under your skin most of all is the fact that they thrive on the attention, live for it, really.

Gossip Girl eats this up—the blog that tracks every scandal and ridiculous moment of their lives. You’re proud to say you’ve never made an appearance on the blog, and you intend to keep it that way.

You shuffle around the room, exchanging shallow, substanceless small talk with the guests, swarmed with empty chatter. You can feel your exhaustion creeping back in. All you want is to get away, to breathe for just a moment.

You slip away to the balcony, but of course, Evan is there waiting for you—the burnout, stoner, and skater who thinks he’s God’s gift to everyone. “You look pretty,” his eyes scanning you like a piece of meat.

You sigh. “Save it for your girlfriend, Evan.” You brush him aside, but he doesn’t falter, grabbing your arm before you can get away. “Can’t I give a compliment?” he asks, flashing a predatory smile.

You snatch your arm back, repulsed. “Not when your girlfriend is in there sitting alone. You’re such an asshole.” His smug expression fades, and he backs off, returning to the party.

Just as you start to find solace in the bustling space, a voice breaks the silence. You turn to see Drew Vanderbilt, all 6’2” of him.

Great…

As he walks toward the edge of the balcony, you notice he’s on the phone. “Are you fucking serious? Dad’s waiting on you, and so is Lila. You can’t just put that on me!” His voice is sharp and strained, and he gives you a polite nod, barely acknowledging your existence before returning to his argument.

“Could you just leave your work behind for one night and be with your family?” His voice rises, making you feel like an intruder on something personal.

You stand frozen for a moment, hearing him argue into his phone, his brow furrowed and jaw tight. For the first time, you feel a flicker of empathy for Drew Vanderbilt—but then you immediately withdraw it. Taking a deep breath, you know it’s time to exit the situation.

You step back into the party, the heat of the room overwhelming from the sheer number of people. You grab a cold glass of champagne from a passing waiter, the bubbles tickling your throat as you slowly take a sip. Finding a quiet corner to sit alone, you let the chaos whirl around you. Your eyes begin to wander—Alexa and Damson trying to sneakily hit their vapes (it’s painfully obvious), Evan getting touchy with his girlfriend in the corner—a reminder to lock your bedroom door later.

Then your eyes land on her: Lila Vanderbilt, the youngest of the family. You’ve always thought she was sweet, and it’s hard not to feel sympathy seeing her sitting alone with her head down.

You decide to go over and keep her company. After all, you share a bit of history from being on the student council together. You’re sort of friends?

“Hey, how are you?” you place a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to grab her attention. She looks up, her face brightening when she recognizes you, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“I’m great!” she says, standing up. “How are you? Oh my gosh, we haven’t spoken in forever,” she asks, her voice filled with genuine kindness.

“I’m good, just waiting for this party to be over,” you reply sarcastically, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Lila giggles. “Right? I had to come straight from practice. I got ready in the locker room. I’m so exhausted!”

You share a chuckle, bonding over the shared annoyance of these events. It’s nice having someone to talk to who gets it.

You chat for a while, catching up, talking about everything from school to how obvious Alexa and Damson are being. You almost forget where you are in the midst of the conversation.

But then, you hear a deep, husky voice that brings you back to reality. “You missed me?” There he is—Harris Vanderbilt. His voice carries such power that it instantly makes the air heavier. Lila’s face lights up as she turns to see her brother, practically jumping to hug him. “You came! Drew said you had to work!” Her excitement is clear. It’s sweet to see.

Harris chuckles. “Thank Drew. He practically called me every name under the sun to get me here.” There’s a slight annoyance in his tone.

So that’s who he was arguing with…

You let out a small chuckle to yourself, accidentally catching Harris’ attention. His gaze lands on you with a familiarity that sends a strange flutter through your chest. Taking a slow sip of champagne, his gaze doesn’t leave you for a second. His smirk grows slightly, as if he knows something you don’t.

You awkwardly laugh and smile, avoiding direct eye contact. Then he breaks the silence. “Y/N, how are you?” His deep voice is smooth as he extends his hand to you. You stare at it for a second—large, confident, powerful—and place your hand into his, feeling his warmth against yours.

“I’m great, how’s Yale?” you manage, trying your hardest to keep your composure.

“Stressful,” he replies with a slight humor, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “But it’s nice to see you.”

He begins to rub his hands together, as though he’s considering something. His eyes scan you up and down. The look is quick, but it sends a shiver down your spine. You try to ignore the dreadful nervousness creeping in.

“You look great, by the way,” Harris adds, licking his lips. His voice is low and steady, the compliment lingering in the air between you two, making you fumble over your words.

“Thank you,” you respond, nodding rapidly, the smile on your face a little too tightt.

You finally make your way to the bar, desperate for an escape from the intensity of the night. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you bury your face in the cold marble counter. The chill against your forehead is almost comforting, and you try to let go of all the frustration of the evening, wishing you could make sense of it all.

Slowly, you lift your head from the counter and glance back at the party behind you. People are starting to leave, and you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. This night is almost over, and soon, you can retreat to your room.

But just then, your peace is shattered once again by that all-too-familiar presence beside you. You glance to the side and see none other than Drew Vanderbilt—the last person you want to see right now.

Isn’t that enough Vanderbilt for one evening?

He rests his elbows on the bar. “Whiskey on the rocks, please,” Drew mutters to the bartender, looking utterly exhausted and worn out. Before he takes a sip, he lets out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down to face the counter, his posture slumped in a way that makes you wonder if the night has drained him as much as it has drained you.

After a moment, he glances over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly when he notices your worried expression. “Do you need something?” he asks, his voice dripping with his usual attitude.

You cringe. What an asshole.

“You looked like shit, but I forgot—that’s just you!” you shoot back, flashing a dry smile. Without giving him a chance to respond, you grab your champagne and make a beeline for the door, not bothering to look back.

You just need to get out of there.

Hoping for some solitude, you lean against your room door, putting all your weight on it. But as you open the door, you freeze. Your brain takes a second to process what it’s seeing—Ryan and Damson, completely enveloped in each other, kissing on YOUR bed.

You can’t believe it. “Not you, Ryan…” you mutter under your breath, disbelief clouding your thoughts. You step into the room and slam the door behind you. “OUT!” you snap, your voice sharp.

Ryan looks up at you, her eyes wide, clearly caught off guard. After a split second of hesitation, Damson bolts from the room, leaving you and Ryan alone.

Ryan tries to explain herself, her voice frantic. “Wait, don’t hate me, please! I promise there’s a valid reason—”

You pause. You can’t just kick her out without hearing her out. Crossing your arms, you let out a sigh. “Fine, talk,” you say, flopping down onto the edge of your bed.

She crosses her legs, holding a pillow for comfort. “Harris totally rejected me. Like, he wanted nothing to do with me,” she sighs, frustration lacing her words. “I was just upset and needed a rebound.”

You blink, stunned. Harris rejecting… Ryan? That’s hard to fathom. You haven’t heard of someone rejecting her in years; it’s a rare occurrence. Seeing her like this makes your heart ache, especially knowing you weren’t there for her.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur under your breath. But before you can continue, you can’t help but ask, unable to suppress your grin. “But Damson?”

You both burst into laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation. For a moment, the chaos of the night fades, and you share a brief moment of calm together.

But, of course, nothing lasts.

BZZZ, BZZZ

You both pull out your phones at the same time. The sound of a notification echoes in the now silent room. You look at your phone—and for a second, your heart stops.

to be continued…

[syndrossi]

My precious wonderful demon of a cat just hopped up where I was eating and sat her butt directly on my plate. *sobs* Naturally, as I throw my food away, I have to wonder... how much trouble would they be in if Shadow and/or Qelebrys did this to Daemon?

Which also made me wonder in turn if, after they start breathing fire, do they ever try to save Jon and Rhaegar from the horrors of "raw meat" and, ah, cook their boys' dinners just a little bit more than they are when initially served? (Charbroiled steak, coming right up. Nice and crispy.)

I still want to see them interacting with the small and sickly baby Tyraxes. 😭

Magic aura and crispy meat, man. Baby dragons need it.

Oh nooo, what a sweet little menace. 😂 It's like they both know precisely what they're doing and yet are simultaneously so oblivious.

See, I think Daemon would find it endearing more than anything and perhaps even find himself imagining how Caraxes might have been like as a hatchling (I'm sure he has heard stories from Aemon). It's a different story when someone else is preparing your food for you and will promptly handle the mess + replacing it and you pay for nothing. Must be nice!

As soon as they find their dragonflame, I'm sure the hatchlings will be taking every excuse to use it via "saving" Jon and Rhaegar from many horrors. Lots and lots of grilled (blackened) veggies in their future too, since the hatchlings are skeptical of this weird, non-bloody meat that isn't wholly cooked. Granted, the first time the table catches fire, Daemon has to put a stop to it and ban them from mealtimes (or at least banish them to the hearth). After all, as adorable as it is, it's another thing entirely to have a dragon trained to think it knows better about how to "prepare" your meal for you.

In that dragons-as-cats vein, I wonder if either will start bringing their kills to Jon and Rhaegar. Charred birds left outside their windows every other day, which is easy enough to deal with (for Rolen most of the time). Daemon advises the boys to get it under control until they're large enough to start bringing sheep. Or at the very least train them to do so on command, as it can be useful to have your dragon hunt for you on the rare occasion where there isn't a holdfast to host you that evening.

But you're right, the poor baby who needs this most is tiny-big-cousin Tyraxes. Once the hatchlings get further into their childhood years, I could see them wanting to spring the other drakes from the Dragonpit for fresh air and play.

[brainddeadd]

The One Where Jack Meddles

Trevor has loved Yn Hughes since the day he met her.

Yn Hughes has loved Trevor Zegras since the day she met him.

Jack Hughes is sick of his sister and best friend pinning for each other and decides to do something about it.

Quinn Hughes thinks that if anyone is going to date his little sister, Trevor's the best option.

Luke Hughes just wants Yn to cook him some damn food.

The warm sun cast a golden hue over the Hughes family lake house as laughter and music spilled out from the large deck. Friends mingled, drinks flowed, and the scent of grilled burgers wafted through the air. Yn Hughes stood at the edge of the lake, her toes dipped in the cool water as she watched Trevor Zegras playfully toss a football with Jack. She couldn’t help but smile; he looked effortlessly charming, his hair tousled and eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hey, Yn!” Jack called, glancing her way. “Are you going to join us or just stand there all day?”

“I might just watch you fail to catch that pass,” she shot back, her playful tone masking the butterflies in her stomach.

Trevor turned, flashing a grin that made her heart skip a beat. “I think I’ll catch it just fine. Want to make a bet?”

She bit her lip, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “What’s the wager?”

“If I catch it, you owe me dinner. If I drop it, I’ll owe you a night out,” he replied, confidence radiating off him.

Yn felt her pulse quicken at the thought of spending more time with Trevor. “Deal!”

As the sun set and the sky turned into a canvas of pinks and oranges, the party transitioned to the deck. Laughter echoed as everyone gathered around a fire pit, drinks in hand. Luke leaned against the railing, glancing between Yn and Trevor, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, Yn, can you whip up something delicious for us later?” he called out, clearly fishing for her attention.

“Only if you help me clean up!” she shot back, playfully rolling her eyes.

Jack, watching the banter unfold, took a deep breath. He had watched Trevor and Yn dance around each other for far too long. Tonight, he would do something about it. He stood up, a spark of determination in his eyes, fueled by a few drinks.

“Alright, everyone!” Jack announced, his voice loud enough to draw attention. “I think it’s time we talk about something serious.”

“What’s up, Jack?” Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jack glanced at Trevor, who looked both curious and nervous. “Trevor here has been hiding a big secret!”

Trevor’s eyes widened. “What? No, I haven’t—”

“Yeah, you have!” Jack pressed on, ignoring Trevor’s protests. “Trevor loves Yn!”

The words hung in the air, a sudden silence enveloping the group. Yn’s heart raced, her breath caught in her throat as she turned to Trevor. His face was a mixture of shock and embarrassment, turning crimson under the dim light of the fire.

The silence broke into a chorus of teasing laughter and playful jeers. “Wow, Trevor! You really need to be more vocal about your feelings!” one friend shouted.

“Dude, you can’t just drop that bombshell!” another added, grinning at Trevor’s discomfort.

Yn felt a thrill of hope wash over her. Did Jack really just say that? Trevor’s gaze met hers, wide-eyed, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction.

“Um, I—” Trevor stammered, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “I mean… it’s not that simple.”

Yn couldn’t help but smile, her heart fluttering. “What if it is?” she challenged gently, stepping closer to him.

Trevor opened his mouth to respond, but Jack cut in again, waving his hands dramatically. “Look, can we just agree that you two should stop pretending? Everyone here sees it!”

Quinn nodded, smirking. “Yeah, I think Trevor’s a great option for Yn. Just look at them!”

Luke leaned over, a mischievous grin on his face. “As long as Yn promises to cook me dinner, I’m all for it.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” Yn laughed, but her gaze never left Trevor’s.

Trevor finally found his voice, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “I’ve liked you since the day I met you, Yn. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

A wave of relief and joy washed over her, and she took a step closer. “Then maybe you should try saying it now?”

Trevor’s nervousness faded as a smile broke out on his face. “I like you, Yn. Like, really like you.”

The cheers erupted around them again, but this time, Yn didn’t care about the audience. She took another step closer, feeling emboldened by Trevor’s confession. “I like you too, Trevor. More than I can say.”

The laughter and teasing faded into the background as Trevor took her hand, his grip warm and reassuring. “So… dinner? Just the two of us?”

“Definitely,” she replied, her heart soaring.

Jack leaned back with a satisfied smirk, raising his drink. “And to think I did all of this for some good food!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius, Jack,” Luke teased, rolling his eyes.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Yn and Trevor shared a lingering gaze, finally free from the tension that had held them apart for too long. The night was just beginning, and for the first time, everything felt perfectly right.

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

One Night Under the Stars

Here is a little birthing story I had been working on recently. I wanted something a little bit more focused than what I was working on previously. I do hope you guys enjoy it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas Harper always loved camping and the outdoors. After several months of slaving away in front of his computer screen at work, he finally took the time off. He was planning a few days out in the woods sleeping under the stars, fishing, and enjoying being away from the city. It was just what Thomas wanted. In the early morning, Thomas loaded his truck with what he needed: camping gear, fishing rods, and a small cooler filled with a few days' worth of food.

Thomas was looking forward to this trip for months. He would have gone a little sooner but with Thomas being heavily pregnant, he had other things taking priority. But now with time on his side, and nearing the end of his third trimester he wanted one last trip to the outdoors before he popped.

Thomas' friends voiced their concerns about him going. Numerous times he reassured them he had everything under control. "I don't feel like I'm gonna pop any time soon. I'll be fine,"

He was ready to leave, adjusting the rear-view mirror, and glanced down at his round pregnant belly pressing lightly against the steering wheel. Thomas let out a deep sigh. He drove down the winding roads through the hills and into the dense forests out of town. Thomas eventually came up to the entrance of Eagle Lake State Park. He had visited the park a few times before, there were no large predators in the area - a few deer at best. 

Thomas checked in at the ranger station. After Thomas drove to his chosen campsite near the edge of a large, serene lake, he parked his truck, and carefully unloaded his gear. The first thing he needed was to set up his tent. He worked at getting the poles placed and the tent put up. As he hammered the last tent peg into the ground, he took a deep breath of the fresh, pine-scented air and smiled. He felt a sense of peace wash over him, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of his everyday life. With the tent up, he pulled out the cot from the back of his truck and set it in. He laid out a sleeping bag, a few pillows, and his maternity body pillow to ensure he would be comfortable at night. He was a little winded, huffing and rubbing on his big pregnant belly. "You're lucky I like you, or I wouldn't deal with this,"

The campsite was perfect: secluded enough to feel like he was alone in the wilderness but close enough to the river to catch fish. He didn't have any cell reception ensuring no one would be calling him to break up his quiet. He was perfectly isolated. Thomas sat at the edge of his truck taking a deep breath of the soak in the forest around him. He could smell the fresh scent of pine and earth, a hint of the river nearby being carried on the gentle breeze wafting through his small camp.

Thomas felt his baby kicking around his belly button, as if in approval of their surroundings. Thomas let out a small laugh as he traced his fingers over his belly. "You like that little man?" He asked

His baby kicked back. Thomas pushed down gently on the same spot. Thomas told his unborn baby boy to stop being so rough. There was a kick again where his finger just was. Thomas couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, don't you just think you're adorable?" He spoke to his baby bump.

Scooting off the gate of his truck he pulled out the folding chair and the grate. He went around for stones to make a fire pit and then placed the grate on top. His grill was set up. His camp was set up. Carefully letting himself plop down into his chair. Thomas took a moment to relax. 

Thomas rested his hands on the top of his baby bump. He felt his little one fluttering underneath his hands. He closed his eyes taking in the fresh air. A gentle breeze wafting through the trees. A deep sigh, and a gentle pat. “Come one little man,” 

Thomas finally decided to grab his fishing gear: his fishing pole, a small tackle box, a net, and a folding chair. It was a nice little walk from his camp down to the lake. He came to a serene calm lake, the water was a nice deep blue. It was so nice, like something off of a postcard. The sun was almost directly overhead, it had to be close to midday. He found a nice spot with a little shade and set up his folding chair.

At the edge of the water he cast his line, took a deep breath, and relaxed, he let his hand rest on top of his pregnant belly. When he felt a nibble he quickly tried to reel in. Sometimes he got lucky. It had already been several hours. Thomas lost himself in the rhythmic motions of casting and reeling. He caught enough fish for a modest dinner for him and his baby. He cleaned, prepped, and cooked the fish once he got back to his camp. The warmth of the fire felt nice. He tried to endure the little discomforts, he was used to ignoring the small pain as it crept up from time to time.

With his belly full and the fire crackling, he settled in his chair tent as the night crept over. Once it was dark he stripped down in the tent sleeping in a jock and a t-shirt and climbed into his sleeping bag. Eyes closed, one hand against his baby bump as he cuddled up to his body pillow, laying on his side. 

He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. The pain was getting to be too much to ignore. As much as he tried to ignore it it was getting to be impossible. Thomas groaned, gripping his body pillow tightly. The pain wasn’t going away from the pressure building in his lower waist. He felt the pressure pushing down on his waist. He thought he needed to go to the bathroom. He lay there in a fierce sweat. Thomas finally opened his eyes to the dark tent. He struggled to roll over getting onto his back. He left something wet against his leg.

Thomas quickly reached around for the lantern. Getting the lantern on, he opened up his sleeping bag. There was a huge wet spot, what bit of the fluid he had against him he noticed it was clear. “Huh?”

Thomas felt the pressure in his lower back along with the urge to push. “Shit! Now, seriously?!” Thomas groaned

He could feel the baby opening him up. Thomas threw his head back wailing in pain. “FUCK!”

Thomas’ breathing was shallow. Every time he felt the need to push he felt incredible pain. He was getting lightheaded. He could feel the tip of his fingers digging into his palm. He screamed as he tried to push again. The baby hadn’t come to his prostate yet. 

“What do I do? I What-” Thomas was trying to breath

Everything hurts. He wanted to cry. Thomas lay there. His legs were spread far apart. The urge to push was overwhelming but he couldn’t tolerate the pain of delivery. Thomas tried to push. With a little force, the baby moved a little, stretching him open until he couldn’t tolerate the pain again. The baby was slowly descending through his birth canal. He could feel the baby’s head was right against his prostate.

Thomas was light-headed. He unclenched his fist and placed his hand on his pregnant belly. He tried to get a deep breath feeling the relief wash over him. He could feel it again. He wanted to push. He felt his thigh; bending his knee and lifting it close to his chest. He held his leg open holding it at the back of his knee. One leg up. He tried to lift the other. A little more work but he managed to get into the same position. Thomas held his legs up nice and wide. He tried to breathe nice and deep. He needed to be ready for it. 

The urge to push. He tensed up, his arms weak but holding his legs open. He felt the baby slide right onto his prostate. Thomas’ body shook, his balls quivering. It was an intense and sudden pain. His cock shot up, nice and hard, against his jock strap. Thomas kept pushing, feeling the baby grind against it. His eyes crossed, his cock flared. He screamed, ending his pushing.

Thomas wouldn’t let go of his legs. His voice was shaking, “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” He groaned on the verge of tears.

Again, he took short shallow breaths. He needed to catch his breath quickly. He tried to slow his breathing down to take deep breaths. He breathed in, filling up his lungs, before he tried to push again. He grunted and strained himself while trying to push. As he reached the end of this attempt he let out a strong wail - echoing through the night.

He could feel the baby’s head trying to push out. Again he tried to breathe deeply, grunting as he pushed and pushed. The head was opening up his ass, finally crowning. Thomas was exhausted, he felt like the tent was spinning. The night was fading. 

Again, he needed to push again. His attempt was weak. But still, he tried desperately. Thomas felt the baby creeping out slowly. Finally, he felt a sense of relief as the head popped out. A gasp of relief, but it wasn't over yet. He had to continue, the shoulders were next. Struggling to push he could feel them pressing against his opening. The more he pushed the more he could feel them nearly breaking free. 

Thomas kept at it. He was almost there. Keep going. He tried to plead to himself internally. He felt a shoulder then another dislodge themselves. Grunting and wailing in the early hours as the sun rose. He wondered if he was close, how long this baby was, but as he strained himself, going red in the face trying to push out his baby he felt it. Thomas finally felt the baby finish sliding out of him. 

Silence filled the tent. “Aren't they supposed to cry'' he wondered

He felt a little foot move. Then a wiggle, his heart once still fluttered. His baby finally started to cry. Carefully he let one leg down and then the other. Thomas kept his legs nice and wide so he wouldn't squish his newborn. It was a struggle but he managed to pull himself up there he was a newborn baby boy. The newborn writhed in the bile of his own birth. Without thinking Thomas quickly reached for a new shirt and started weakly wiping away the bile from his baby. “It's okay. It's okay Daddy's here,” he said softly 

Carefully he scooped up the baby remembering his parenting classes and being very careful with his head. He held this son close. Thomas was nearly in tears.

During the ordeal of his birth, a couple out for a sunrise walk heard his scream. They ventured into the thick of the woods away from the trail he drove in on and coming by his camp. Thomas didn't hear them approaching through the brush. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” A man said softly

“No herald you have to say it louder,” she said smacking his arm

“It's probably nothing, you know how it is. You come out to the woods, you get to be rougher than you would at home.” He said to her

“That's disgusting. What if someone is hurt?”

“In their own came, come on Julia, be realistic here,” Harold said to her as Julia approached the camp

“Hello?” she called out

Julia could faintly hear the sound of the baby through the rustling. Finally, catching Thomas’ attention. “Hello?”

“Hello!? Are you hurt!?” she called out From the tent

“Can you call the ranger station? I need to go to the hospital,” Thomas said

“Yes! Yes of course! Harold!” Julia shouted 

“Wait! My walkie is here.” 

Julia came back over and she found the door unzipped. She was ready To see a man hurt in some way. Instead, she saw a half-naked Thomas sitting upright cradling a baby swaddled in his tee shirt. “Oh my god!” Julia remarked

A ranger hurried over, it wasn’t long before a paramedic arrived. As he was being swept up and driven to the hospital, there was one question on everyone's mind “Why go camping when you're having a baby?”

Thomas’ reply to this each time was “he wasn't supposed to be here yet. I was supposed to be induced in a few days. When I came back.”

Being wheeled into the nearest hospital Thomas was separated from his newborn. He was drifting in and out during the moments of silence. He was woken up by nurses and doctors coming in to check on him. “Are you okay?”

“Just tired,” he’d reply

They would talk to him but he wouldn’t pay much mind. His eyelids were heavy. Thomas wasn’t able to keep his eyes open for long. When he next shot up, his baby boy was being brought in. He thought it had been hours. In reality, it had not yet been a half hour. They had done a better job cleaning him off. Getting him a onesie, and a little blue cap. “Is he?” Thomas asked weakly

“He’s just sleeping. The doctor didn’t see any issues. Or complications. You gave birth to a healthy baby boy,”

Thomas sighed in relief and closed his eyes again. “Good,” he mumbled

Thomas finally got to sleep. 

When he had finally had enough rest Thomas spoke with his doctor.

“Well you’re lucky there are no serious injuries,” his doctor said

The doctor continued to talk to Thomas about the various complications that could have arisen. He simply replied “But they didn’t and he arrived just fine,”

This delivery came as a surprise. For Thomas, he believed those early contractions were just general discomfort. “Nothing I couldn’t handle before.”

“Well, consider yourself lucky this time.” his doctor said

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” Thomas replied looking at his baby.

Thomas named his son Hunter, born just shy of ten pounds, twenty-one point six inches. The doctor could not find any complications and the boy was healthy. After a couple of days under observation, Thomas could head home. Needing to cut his camping trip short, Thomas called in some favors from his friends to get his gear and his truck back. It was tough getting used to Hunter’s erratic schedule and it took him a lot longer to get into the groove of things with him. Before long he was going back to work, Hunter close by in a baby seat stroller or sleeping in a carrier backpack next to him. Things were getting back to a sense of normality. Thomas was finally getting the hang of being a single parent. On one Sunday afternoon while Hunter was down for his nap a friend of Thomas’ came by asking if he would ever go camping again.

“Yeah, when he’s old enough,”

“Oh that’s good,” his friend replied

“And that’s not even the best part,” Thomas said

“And what is that?” His friend asked

“I’m not pregnant this time,” Thomas replied

He and his friend started to chuckle a little. Thomas was true to his work. It wasn’t until Hunter was already two years old that Thomas took him camping. They didn’t go out to the woods but instead set up the tent in their backyard. The two had sat under the stars by the fire pit. Thomas rocking a fussy Hunter. Hunter didn’t want to sleep but his eyes were so heavy the little one struggled to keep open. Thomas stayed up long enough to witness the fire die out. Thomas carried his son to bed. “Maybe in a few more years I’ll try again,” he mumbled to himself as he carried his sleeping son into the house and settled him into his bed.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

E Rated Fics Masterlist (47)

Part 1 -Part 38/  Part 39 / Part 40 / Part 41 / Part 42 / Part 43 / Part 44 / Part 45 / Part 46 /

Created: May 27th, 2024

Last Checked:-----

All's Fair-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: They say that all's fair in love and war, but Katniss isn't in a war yet. She's in college. And college is stressful enough when you don't have to worry about impressing your cadet corps or pulling off a flawless prank. But Katniss is determined to succeed, willing to go to great lengths to get what she wants. A Simple Plan-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Peeta had a plan. He didn’t realize that simple plans often go awry. The sequel to “A Simple Favor”. Blazing Free-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Catching Fire reimagined. Canon Divergent. Katniss Everdeen & her co-victor Peeta Mellark have spent every waking moment since they won the 74th Hunger Games trying to appease President Snow and keep their loved ones safe from the Capitol's wrath. They have played their parts to perfection as star-crossed lovers, and mentors. But when Snow puts a new inconceivably sadistic demand on Peeta and Katniss, they have to decide whether they will continue to used as pieces in the game, or whether to change the rules all together. (Mature themes, mentions of depression, allusions to non-consentual sex, underage drinking and drug use, violence, cursing, Everlark smut, some Everthorne drama, minor character death, etc.) Christmas For 3-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen is looking at spending her first Christmas as a 32 year old divorcee alone and miserable. She doesn't want to feel like a total failure at Christmas time, but will she get more than she bargained for in the form of two handsome identical twin brothers? Christmas TV-Lbug84 (ao3) Summary: When two people meet online, how can they hope to separate what's real from the fantasy? Both burned and scarred in their pasts, Katniss and Peeta develop an unconventional relationship in this modern day everlark AU Cold Embers-lieselmemingers (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta discover that their post-war medication has numbed their desire for intimacy. Coxa-JennaGill (ao3) Summary: Peeta’s subconscious is trying to tell him something, twenty years after the Games ended. Everlark. In Panem continuation to Mockingjay.  Delicious-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Peeta is a professional chef that Katniss hires to teach her how to cook. Even though Katniss is terrible at cooking Peeta refuses to give up on her. When things begin to heat up between them in the kitchen they both realize they want to be more than just friends. There's only one problem, Peeta's got a girlfriend half a world away, and he never told Katniss. Started as a tumblr ask for a smut drabble featuring: "Please don't stop." & "Yeah, you like that?" G.O.A.T. (Greatest of All Time)-JHsgf82 (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen is a waitress at the G.O.A.T. Sports Bar and Grille, and she's also a huge football fan. Her team: The Panem U Mutts. Her favorite player: Peeta Mellark. Katniss always wears Peeta Mellark's jersey at work, and even to bed. How will he react to seeing her in it? And how will she react to meeting him? Golden Cages-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Mockingjay reimagined. (Sequel to Burning Bright & Blazing Free.) There's a rebellion stirring, President Snow is out for blood, and everyone wants our heroes to choose sides. Katniss and a number of other victors are captives in the Captiol while Peeta & co. work to free them from District 13. Tough decisions lie ahead.

[not-freyja]

For the prompts, maybe differences in flora (and their toxicity) between eras

This one was fun! (also if you have an ao3 I can't remember what it is, so let me know what it is so I can gift this to you)

Ficlet on ao3 or right below:

“Oh, mushrooms!” Wild bounces excitedly and then starts pulling them all into his Slate, happy to finally start restocking on some essential supplies. Like things for soup stock. They go through a lot of soup, his brothers and him, just by dint of it being an easy thing for him to make (relatively speaking) in relation to the number of mouths to feed.

And mushrooms are a Goddess-send when it comes to making soup taste like something that isn’t just water. And any kind of food lying around in Rulie’s time period is always a pleasant surprise.

All together a win-win. It’s a good day.

Wild does know to check with the others before adding any random food item into his edible inventory. He knows this very very well. He also knows that Hyrule’s era is particularly prone to non-consumable plant life.

But his Slate happily stores them in with the rest of his Stamella Shrooms, and that is that. Fantastic.

He forgets about the whole thing, and forgets it quickly. The idea of taking the time to remember every single instance of foraging is laughable, really. With the amount of it that Wild does? He would have no room left in his head for anything else, after all.

But it’s about six days later, maybe. And he’s handing out the mushroom skewers he made for lunch, because they are having a long day of walking. (Something about needing to get all the way over to a specific farm for some problem or another that Wild wasn’t really paying attention to.)

So they stop just long enough to get a fire going, for Wild to roast a few light morsels while they all rest their feet, and store a bunch for later, It’s efficient, and it is kind of tiring in it’s own right, but it is what they have to do at this moment in time.

As things are handed out, Hyrule, as usual, takes less than a second to go from food-in-hand to food-in-mouth. It’s impressive, frankly, but the novelty is starting to wear off.

What is novel, here, now, is the way that Rulie goes pale and spits the bite of grilled mushroom out. Before anyone else can do anything else, he is slapping Wind’s own lunch out of his hands.

“Rulie, what the fuck?” Wind scoffs, glaring sadly down at his lunch.

“No one eat anything!” Hyrule says, going around in a haphazard circle and just.. Slapping food to the ground. No one fights him, they are all just a little to stunned, a bit too caught off guard by the whole thing. “It’s poison.”

All eyes turn to Wild, shocked, confused,  but not accusatory. They know each other一trust each other一far too much by now to think that he would ever do something like this on purpose. 

“Where did you get these?” Hyrule hisses, finally coming around to Wild himself and yanking the skewer out of his hand. He holds it up, points to the green bits of grilled fungus, and waits.

That is a great question. Wild isn’t really sure where he got them. He gets food from all over the place all of the time, and it’s not like his Slate tracks which specific item is which when it collates together multiple of the same item.

That would just be ridiculous.

“Wild, these are poison,” his brother tells him. “I told you to ask me before you foraged anything in my era.”

Oh. Oh no.

Wild goes wide-eyed, the implications catching up with him. He needs to explain this. “Well, in my era, they are not poisonous. So… I didn’t think it needed to be checked.”

“Oh no.” Legend gets with the program. “Wild, how much?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No, we are talking about it,” the Vet says. “Wild, how much of our food stores are theoretically compromised because of time shenanigans?”

Wild looks down at his Slate, flicks through the inventory. There are things that he knows are good. Like wheat, and rice, and eggs, and honey… right? But all the pre-cooked meals, and the mushrooms and the berries and the一

Oh they are so fucking fucked.

[stranger-rants]

Imagine a Mungrove AU where Billy and Eddie hooked up once at a Metallica concert and forgot about each other until Billy ends up moving to Hawkins and they recognize each other at school.

Eddie can’t help but fantasize about the hot blond standing next to him. The exposed skin on their chest glistens with sweat, and their tight jeans sit dangerously low around their waist hugging their generous ass. Eddie thinks that they’re probably not wearing anything underneath, and just thinking about that makes him tight in the pants.

His friends told him there’d probably be a lot of pretty babes willing to hook up with him at the concert - not that he went for that reason or anything. Never did he imagine, though, that he’d be hooking up with a guy. The hot blond more or less asks if he’s interested, and Eddie doesn’t know why but he says yes. He hadn’t exactly done this kind of thing before with a guy.

They get into the back of Eddie’s van. Eddie had planned on sleeping in it after the concert, so he already had pillows and blankets laid out. Eddie fumbles with his belt buckle for a few minutes before the guy lays him down and gets on top. He smoothly removes Eddie’s belt while they make out. The guy must be able to tell he’s nervous because he winks at him and says he’ll take care of everything.

Eddie’s had his dick sucked before, but nothing like this. It was always awkward and gross, and it kind of made him feel bad - but this? It feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. The guy is good. He brings Eddie right to the edge but then he stops, eliciting a frustrated whine from Eddie. The frustration doesn’t last long when the guy asks if he can ride his dick and Eddie nods furiously.

The guy is as tight as his jeans, rocking on top of him. Finding some confidence, Eddie grips his waist and humps back into him catching the guy by surprise. He moans so prettily it ignites a fire in Eddie who flips him over and fucks him hard. They come soon after that with Eddie collapsing on top of the blond whose body is still shuddering from the aftershocks of orgasm.

“Damn, didn’t know you had it in you,” the blond says, catching his breath.

“Shit,” Eddie flops down on his back next to him, smiling. He laughs at himself. “I didn’t know either.”

They pass out soon after that. When Eddie wakes in the morning, the blond is gone. He sighs. Probably never going to see him again, which is probably for the best. If his friends find out he slept with a guy… he’s not sure how they would take it. He’d like to think they’re open minded, but as soon as he gets back home they notice something’s different about Eddie.

“You got laid, didn’t you?”

They grill him to the point of confession, and Eddie’s gushes about how hot they were with their pretty blond hair and pierced ear and how they had the lips of an angel and how good it felt to fuck them. He’s not quite brave enough to admit he fucked a guy, and that he was better than anyone he’s ever had which isn’t saying a lot with his limited experiences with hookups but it would be hard to uh… top.

A part of him mourns the loss, but he’s got more important things to focus on like passing English so he can finally graduate. When the hot blond with the pierced ear walks into his English class introduced to everyone as Billy, a transfer student from California, it’s all over for Eddie who turns beet red and tries to look away while his friends give him raised eyebrows and knowing grins.

[liverpool-enjoyer]

footballers reacting to a younger player calling them dad (long as hell version)

anon requested it n so it shall be!! ngl for some a the teams i simply googled "youngest player on INSERTTEAMHERE." ive never written formal fic for football so i apologize for this being iffy n also for the SHITTON of innacuracies theres bound to be. oh n also that everyone talks like a twenty year old american college student

leo:

"Thanks, dad," Warren said nonchalantly as Leo helped him up off the ground. He had stumbled a little and fell during the last part of training.

Leo only narrowed his eyes a little in response. Dad?

Poor Warren clasped a hand over his mouth, seemingly mortified. "I'm so sorry," he said, chuckling even though he didn't look like he found anything funny. "I guess I just- And then- Yeah I'll, uh, get going now." He scampered away not once looking back.

Leo got to thinking as me made his way back to the locker room. He's used to being called that; he has children of his own. But he's never considered a teammate of his as his own child. Sure, he was helpful, a mentor maybe, but fatherly wasn't how he would describe his behavior with his younger teammates.

There was only one thing to do, obviously. Ask a younger teammate.

When he got to the locker room he approached Neymar, who didn't notice him at first.

"Ney."

His friend's face brightened upon noticing Leo was there. "Yeah, what's up?" he asked, before taking a swig of water.

"Do you see me as a father figure?"

In response, Leo was met with Neymar choking and coughing. "NO, GOD NO-" he stopped to cough again and catch his breath. "WHAT GAVE YOU THAT IDEA?"

"Nothing, jeez, calm down."

---

ney:

"Woah, not like that, you could hurt yourself," Neymar told Bitshiabu. He was doing an new training excercise incorrectly, and the last thing PSG needed was a good player pulling or straining something.

Neymar took a minute to show him how to do it properly. "Thanks, dad," the seventeen year old said sarcastically. Despite the snark, he appreciated the help.

Neymar just laughed in response, but for the rest of traning the thought kept bouncing around in the back of his head. 'Dad? I was acting like a dad? Some of them see me as old enough to be their father?'

Well, he was a father, but that was different. His teammates were much older than Davi.

Oh, gosh, was he getting old?

Later in training, when he saw Leo, he grabbed the poor man by the shoulders without so much as a hello. "Leo. Do you think I'm getting old?"

In classic Leo fashion, he looked like he'd rather be anywhere than here, interacting with someone. "Well, technically we all are... You're older now than you were yesterday, so I guess you are get-"

Neymar let out an exasperated sigh, unhappy with that answer.

His next victim was Sergio, who's phone conversation he interrupted to ask him the question of the day.

"Do you think I'm getting old?"

"You interrupted my conversation with Lukita to ask me if-"

"JUST ANSWER."

"SURE, I GUESS. I DON'T CARE."

Damn. Neymar was gonna have to get hammered tonight. To prove he still has it in him.

---

milly:

"What about you, Milly? Any fun weekend plans?" Andy asked. Some of the team were talking about the plans they had for the free weekend they had coming up.

"You bet; I have a date with my new book and chamomile tea."

This earned him a few eye rolls, most noticably from Trent. "Aw, that's so boring! Robbo and I are hitting this new club Saturday night, aren't we, mate?" he reached across the kitchen island to fist bump his friend. "Surely you've got something more fun in mind."

"I might fire up the grill if the weather allows..." Milly started. "Oh, and I should probably get my car checked out; it's been making this weird noise."

"Yeah yeah, we get it, dad, you're boring."

Milly didn't hesitate. "I am nowhere near old enough to be your dad," he said with his typical snark.

"You do act like it though..." the previously quiet Alisson chimed in, peering at his friends from over his coffee mug.

"And you're no spring chicken either," Milly remarked, which shut the goalkeeper up. "Will you lot ever get bored of the 'James is old' joke?"

"Aw, don't be like that, mate," Andy said with a hearty laugh, putting an arm around Milly's neck and ruffling his hair. "You know it's just because we love you!"

Milly sighed. Yeah, he did know, he supposed.

---

kdb:

"I mean," Alvarez said between passes. "You're practically his dad."

Kevin rolled his eyes for what was probably the third time during that conversation.

"Ah, shove it, you know I'm not that old."

"It's not about age," his younger teammate responds, accepting the ball Kevin passed to him. "You're always like... I dunno, dadish."

Kevin just gave Alvarez an absolutely bewildered look. "...Are you actually saying these words?"

"I'm serious, mate! You're always, y'know, taking him out for ice cream after training, making sure he gets home safe, whatever that means-"

Kevin brought up a hand to rub his temple. "Oh my gosh, I don't see him as my kid. Can't I just be nice?"

"No."

"Shove off," Kevin said playfully.

An amused grin crossed Alvarez's face. "Speak of the devil."

Kevin turned to see Erling walking up to the pair.

"Hey guys!" Erling said with a polite wave, and Alvarez waved back.

"You need anything?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, actually," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you think you can give me a ride home after training? Jack drove me but he had to leave early."

"Of course, no problem," he replied without hesitation, and clapped a hand on Erling's shoulder for seemingly no reason.

Erling nodded happily in response. "Thank you, dad!" he said with a bright smile, before walking away as if what he said was completely normal.

It was taking everything Alvarez had in him to not start rolling on the ground with laughter. "What was that about not being his dad?"

"Shaddup."

---

luka:

It was actually Luka who started it.

Everyone entered the locker room very happy, fresh off a 44th minute goal from Rodrygo that had earned them the lead. The young player received hugs and claps on the back from pretty much every player. The attention was well deserved; the goal was a beauty, after all.

One of the last players to congratulate him was Luka. "Good job, hijo!" he said, hugging his teammate. "You were brilliant out there!"

"Gracias, papa," Rodrygo said, casual, even though he had never called him that before. "But it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't set me up for it!"

"Aw, aren't you the sweetest," said Luka, smiling proudly as he ruffled up Rodrygo's short hair beyond repair.

Rodrygo reached up in a futile attempt to fix his hair, and even though it wasn't said out loud, he got the feeling that he could call Luka that anytime he wanted.

---

luis:

Training had long since ended, and everyone was in the locker room, gathering their belongings and talking amongst themselves.

Luis and Kauan had been making small talk, with Luis telling his youngest teammate about some of his exploits and giving him some pointers.

"Y'know," Kauan eventually said. "You kinda remind me of my dad!"

Luis immediately burst into laughter, but it was out of genuine joy rather than condescension.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer. "I'm not that old, kiddo. Now would your dad do THIS?"

Before his teammate could respond, Luis had taken Kauan into a light, non-painful chokehold n given him the strongest noogie he could muster, sending Kauan into a fit of giggling.

When Luis had mercy on the kid and let him go, Kauan needed a minute to catch his breath and compose himself.

Kuan gave Luis a sly grin. "Y'know, my dad does that to me all the time!"

"Damnit."

---

lewa:

It wasn't Gavi's day. Or his week, and it wasn't shaping out to be his month, for that matter.

He didn't know what was wrong; he just wasn't playing like his normal self these past few games. But the crushing blow was this game in particular, when he was subbed off in the first half due to his performance.

The atmosphere in the locker room after the game was still positive, however, as they had won. But Gavi wasn't participating in the celebrating and joking. He had changed and was just sitting by his locker, just... thinking. He hated sulking like this. He felt like he was being dramatic. Maybe he should go.

He didn't notice someone had approached him until he heard his voice.

"Gavi?" Robert asked, voice laced with concern. "What're you doing here all by yourself?"

The younger player just shrugged, blinking away tears that definitely weren't forming.

"May I?" Robert asked, gesturing to the spot next to Gavi on the bench.

Gavi just muttered a quiet "yeah," and Robert sat closely next to him.

Robert took a good look at Gavi, and for a moment he was reminded of his girls.

"You don't seem to be too happy with yourself," the man said.

"Can you blame me?" Gavi asked, trying not to sound sarcastic.

"Well, I understand. But I don't think you should be so hard on yourself," he put an arm around the young player. "You're talented, Gavi, and you're only going to get better from here. You just had a few rough weeks; it's not permanent. And I'm saying that because I really believe it." He smiled warmly at the young man.

Gavi would be lying if he said he didn't feel just a little bit better. He found himself resting his head on the other's shoulder.

"Thank you, dad. I mean- shit, I-"

Robert just chuckled in response. "It's ok, really, I'm honored," he said, holding the other just a little tighter.

---

sergio:

"Hey, dad? Do you-" Vini shut his mouth quickly after he realized what he had just said.

Sergio was on him before the young player could even apologize. "I'm sorry?" he asked, feeling kind enough to at least give the young player a chance to explain himself.

"I don't know, I guess I just got my wires crossed, or something-"

"I thought so. Just don't let it happen again," Sergio said, sounding less angry and more just... irritated. And with that, he left.

Much later in the day, Sergio found himself at Luka's place eating dinner with his teammate, as was pretty much tradition after training.

"Y'know," the team captain said between bites of what Luka made him. "Those kids of ours are really improving. I mean, they were always talented but, y'know..."

Luka just smiled and kept his thoughts to himself. He knew if he made mention of Sergio referring to the young players as their kids, he'd deny it faster than you could say Madrid.

---

pep:

"Don't overwork yourself, Cole, I don't want you getting hurt," Pep said to the young player. It was Cole's first training back after recovering from an injury, so he was prone to hurting himself again.

"Sure thing, dad," Cole said sarcastically.

Pep simply blinked at the young man. He had been managing a long time and had been called many things by all his players over the years. But this was definitely a first for "dad."

After a few seconds of silence, Cole could tell that his attempt at a joke was not well received. He simply stared at the man staring back at him, waiting for whatever stupid prize awaited, and kind of hoping he would just die right now.

"Laps."

Cole's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Hm?"

"Laps."

"Uh... don't you think that's too exerting? You just said I should take it e-"

"Laps!"

And without another word, Cole took off running. It wasn't until three laps in that he realized he never asked how many of these things he should do.

Shit.

---

klopp:

"We've won our last five matches," Darwin said.

"And it's raining outside, so traning will be, uh... Not as good," chimed in Harvey.

"And we promise to train extra hard tomorrow! Don't we, lads?" Cody asked, turning to his teammates, who nodded furiously in response.

"I still don't know if you can afford to miss it; training every day is important," Jurgen told the boys. There was a new movie out that the boys wanted to forego traning to go and see. Rather than sending one person to him to be The Negotiator, the boys thought it was better to approach him with their request all at once.

"But papaaaaaa!!" damn near all of the teammates chimed at once.

Jurgen clenched his expensive-ass teeth. These boys always knew how to get to him. He loved being reminded that they loved him and saw them as a father, as someone to be trusted and depended upon. He couldn't even remember when they started calling him that.

He loud out a long, overly-dramatic sigh.

"Fine."

In return, he received a chorus of cheers. An onlooker would think these boys just watched their teammate win them a penalty shootout.

In no time at all he was swarmed with hugs and "thank you, papa"s from too many of the boys to count.

The boys all stopped at the door when they saw their gaffer wasn't following them.

"Aren't you coming?" Alisson asked, eyes kind and welcoming.

"Do you want me to?" questioned Jurgen, looking at his boys' faces for signs of approval. Most of them just rolled their eyes at the suggestion that they didn't want him to join them.

Alisson approached him, took him by the arm, and dragged him to the door himself, Jurgen laughing while following him.

"Of course we do, papa."

[bcdrawsandwrites]

I'm going to make an attempt at participating in @ailesswhumptober! I don't know if I'll be able to write something every day, but we'll see how this goes. These fics will be un-beta'd and hopefully short.

Day 1: Drugging / sick / poisoned

Characters: Razputin Aquato, Augustus Aquato, Morceau Oleander (with other characters showing up briefly)

Warnings: Emeto

Summary: The camp is finally safe, but Raz didn't get through Meat Circus entirely unscathed.

---~~~---

The day after Thorney Towers exploded was a weird one for everyone.

Raz woke up in the middle of the day along with all the other campers. At first he wasn't sure the past few days had happened at all, and half-expected to hear his mom demanding to know why he wasn't up for early-morning stretches. But hearing the hushed voices of the campers around him and opening his eyes to find himself in a cabin, not a caravan, was enough to make him realize that, no, it was all real. Or... most of it was real. He still wasn't sure about the whole stopping-the-world-takeover thing, but his headache left him wondering. He stepped outside and jumped back in surprise when his father rushed up to him to make sure he was all right. Well, that confirmed that, too.

It was a strange way to start the day, especially when he was pulled aside by Sasha and Milla, who questioned him about everything that had happened in Coach Oleander's mind. Raz was still slightly out of it when he explained, and he hoped he did a good job. After everything that had happened, he felt kinda bad for the Coach.

The next few hours involved his dad and Sheegor trying unsuccessfully to keep Chef Ford in the kitchen long enough to make everyone something to eat, while the counselors disappeared and the campers raided the candy from the camp store. While Raz wasn't too thrilled about the latter, he couldn't turn Lili down when she offered him a psi-pop. Eventually Sasha and Milla returned with Oleander in tow, and made it clear to the campers that he wasn't going to be stealing brains anymore.

Raz was sitting with the Coach on the back deck of the main lodge, having a quiet conversation, when the door behind them opened. "Hi!" Sheegor said, popping her head out from behind the door. "Um... we finally got Mr. Cruller to start on lunch!"

"Oh, finally!" Raz exclaimed, hopping up from his seat. "I'm starving!"

"Me too," the Coach said, wincing as he rose, "but uh, I'm gonna grab something from my rations."

"Okay! Suit yourself!" Sheegor said, and ducked back into the lodge. 

Raz followed her, finding the lodge was already full of campers sitting at the tables, excited to eat something other than candy. Grinning, he ran over to the camp store, where Chef Cruller was parked in front of the grill. "Hey, Ford!" he exclaimed. "Wha'cha cook..."

The smell hit him, and he stumbled to a halt.

"The burgers ain't done yet!" came Chef Cruller's voice, as though from a distance away. "The grill ain't even fired up yet!"

Raz wasn't looking at Ford. Rather, images of floors and walls and platforms made entirely of raw meat haunted the edges of his vision as he stared blankly ahead. Everything reeked, the smell of freshly-butchered flesh and dripping blood assaulting his nose. Slowly his gaze turned toward Cruller's side, to a plate where a number of raw hamburger patties sat, ready to be placed on the grill. The meat was ground, which immediately yanked his mind to visions of live bunnies dropping into meat grinders, and coming out...

His stomach flipped, and he covered his mouth, scrambling out the front door of the lodge. He made it to the edge of the deck and leaned over it just in time to discover just how acidic a psi-pop tastes the second time around.

Gripping the railing for dear life, Raz fought to catch his breath around the acrid taste in his mouth. His whole body was shaking, and he realized with a groan that everyone saw him freak out. His head clunked down against the railing, but hopefully no one would draw attention to--

"Razputin! Are you all right?!" Augustus cried, bursting out of the lodge and rushing up to him.

Raz stumbled back up to the wall and sank into a seated position, wiping his mouth. "Dad..." he croaked, his face flushing. On one hand, it was nice to have another reminder that his dad really did care about him, but on the other hand, he could hear the not-so-hushed whispers coming from inside the lodge.

Augustus crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his back. "You look so pale," he murmured, brow creasing in concern, before he gave Raz a gentle pat on the back. "You need some food in you. Come on, Chef Cruller will be done preparing lunch soon--"

"No!" Raz blurted, scooting further back against the wall as the memory of the smell and sight of blood and meat flared in his mind again. "I-I can't--the raw--the meat!"

Staring down at Raz in surprise, Augustus scratched his head. "Meat?" he repeated, only for something to click. He put a hand to his chin, glancing off to the side. "That's right--that mental world you were trapped in... You were there for quite some time!"

Wincing, Raz looked away from his dad, and was mortified to see a few kids poking their heads out from the door. He immediately recognized the mass of hair belonging to Bobby Zilch, who snickered before opening his mouth to say something. Before he could do so, a pink light enveloped him and the others, and gently tugged them back inside.

"Well, this is a predicament... We need to get you something to eat!"

Raz wrapped his arms around himself and drew his legs in closer. "It's okay. I-I'm... not hungry right now."

"What's that, soldier?!"

Groaning, Raz clunked his head down against his knees as Oleander burst out of the lodge, carrying something under his arm. "Not now..."

"C'mon, on your feet!" the Coach snapped, waving for Raz to stand up.

"What are you doing?" Augustus demanded, shooting a glare at Oleander. "He's not well!"

"Yeah, you don't need two eyes to see that," Oleander replied, his good eye taking a quick glance at Augustus before turning back to Raz. "C'mon, up!"

"Okay, okay..." Raz shakily rose to his feet, his arms still wrapped around his body, and cast a quick glance at the door. "Just... keep your voice down, please?"

The Coach followed his gaze, and the few campers that had huddled by the door again scrambled away. "Ah. Right." Clearing his throat, he stepped away from the door and around the side of the lodge. "This way, soldier. Forward march!"

After exchanging glances, Raz and his dad followed the Coach around to the back porch, where Oleander was setting out a few items--two brown plastic packets, a large metal water bottle, and a couple paper plates. The Coach reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, which he used to cut open the packets, and pulled a number of other smaller packets out of those. Raz found himself watching in interest, his hands slowly dropping to the side.

"A good soldier isn't gonna fight on an empty stomach," Oleander said, getting to work opening the smaller packets. One contained a candy bar, another contained utensils, and another Oleander didnot empty, but rather poured water into and re-sealed. "We gotta get some fuel in that tank."

Raz wilted. "That's the problem. I know I gotta eat something other than candy, but..." He shuddered. "Those burgers... they just made me think--"

"Yeah, well, you ain't alone."

Lifting his head, Raz noticed that Oleander was frowning down at the food he was preparing. Remembering what the Coach said about getting something else earlier, as well as some of the things in that mental world, something clicked in Raz's mind. "Oh! You... you don't eat meat, do you?"

"Bit hard to eat something you can have a conversation with," the Coach grunted.

"You can speak to animals?" Augustus asked, crossing his arms.

"I can, too!" Raz replied, and his dad cocked a brow at him with an amused smile. "I mean... only a little. I can understand mice! And squirrels, sometimes. But... I've never had trouble eating meat until now."

"You didn't see that part of my mind until now." The Coach lifted his helmet to scratch beneath it. "Sorry, kid. Didn't mean for that part of me to rub off on you." He turned back to the packets of food and resumed unpacking them. "But don't worry, you got options."

The food he ultimately dumped out of the bag turned out to be some mushy-looking pasta with vegetables. It wasn't particularly appetizing-looking, but... it didn't have meat in it. 

After mixing in the sauce, Oleander handed a plate to Raz while he took another plate for himself. "Eat up!"

Hesitantly Raz took a bite, and his face lit up. While it wasn't particularly amazing, it actually... didn't taste bad, and all at once his appetite came back. Soon he found himself shoveling the food into his mouth, while Oleander joined in with his own meal.

Meanwhile, Augustus leaned back, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank goodness! You had me worried for a moment there." He brushed a hand against his beard. "I suppose I'll have to talk with your mother about making some vegetarian foods for a while."

"Mmmhmmm!" Raz hummed around a mouthful of food, only to freeze, swallowing. "Oh man, Mom's gonna kill me, isn't she?"

"I'm sure she'll be relieved to see you again," Augustus said with a chuckle.

"I hope so." Raz wiped his mouth on his glove and looked down at his plate. Now that he actually had some food in his stomach, he felt a lot less awful. It felt weird to think that the person who'd helped him had been the same one who, hours ago, had been trying to steal his brain. He looked up at Oleander and gave a smile. "Thanks for the food, Coach!"

Oleander grinned. "Anytime, soldier!"

[queeniecook]

June 8

Naya Grant has a rare day off, so she decides to take her family to one of the local beaches. Granted, they literally live on the water but it’s more private. This is public, more chance for Apollo to hang out with his fellow merfolk and perhaps a chance for AJ to hang out with some other kids. Sometimes she worries about him not having enough interaction with other kids his age. They’ve started giving Lily three days off a week so AJ can experience daycare with other children. Not being able to have another baby still hurts Naya at times, though her and Apollo haven’t stopped trying.

AJ is a happy little duckling in the water, just like the duck he insists chewing on after he splashes it in the water a few times.

Hours of fun later and some grilled out hamburgers, thanks to Lily, AJ is busy building a sand castle – Lily has pulled her employers aside. She knows it’s time to tell Mr. and Mrs. Grant about her true nature and who she’s related to. Thankfully, Caleb, his wife and Lilith had left it up to her to tell them. They may fire her, she knows this. She will miss AJ if that’s the case. She’s grown very fond of the little boy.

Lily has tried to figure out how to tell them since her visit from Lilith but still isn’t sure what to say. She knows they’re no stranger to the supernatural. Apollo’s family has merfolk spanning back generations and his brother-in-law is a vampire, who also happens to be her cousin.

Naya and Apollo for their part of worried Lily is going to quit, she does an awesome job taking care of AJ and makes amazing food. They’ve felt spoiled.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the scars on my chest.”Lily starts, she rarely wears anything that reveals them. They both nod, curiously. “I’m a werewolf. I got those in a fight years ago.”

Apollo slow blinks while Naya just stares at Lily. They’re both processing the words out of her mouth. “That’s why AJ kept saying Wily every time I’d show him a picture of a wolf on his flashcards…” Apollo comments, mostly to himself. The pieces were coming together.

“And why he calls you woof woof.” Naya supplies, slowly catching up to her husband’s train of thought.

AJ had toddled in on Lily in her werewolf form one day and figured it out, even at his young age. “He’s a smart boy.”

Both of AJ’s parents nod in unison with smiles on their faces. Lily takes a breath, they seemed to be handling it okay but she wasn’t done.

“Just like merfolk, werewolves age more slowly…but even slower than your kind, Apollo. I was actually born in the 1800’s.” Lily pauses, letting that sink into their minds for a few moments.

“Wow! So you got to see the rise of all the greats in the fashion industry!” Naya exclaims. Fashion is her job after all. 

Lily wasn’t expecting that comment but nods. “And some of their falls too.”

“Wait….that means you’ve been around as long as Caleb and Lilith..” Apollo comments, thinking out loud. He squints at the older female next to him. 

The werewolf nods her head. “I’m their cousin. Their mother was my Aunt.”

There’s complete silence outside of the waves splashing to shore against the sand beside them.

Apollo slowly smiles “This really is a small world. You gotta meet my sister! She’s about ready to pop but you should meet her. Family is extremely important to merfolk and it looks like you’re part of it.”

“Does Vera know about all of this?” Naya questions, glancing over at her son who is still happily building a sand castle, oblivious to all the adult stuff going on around him.

“I’m sure Caleb told her, those two rarely keep things from each other. Caleb was here not too long ago so you two have seen each other, right?” Apollo asks Lily, who nods at him.

“I’ll set a meeting up.”

[sibillascribbles08]

Nother Jasonnie prompt, can't tag cause they were on anon but this is 139! I gotta be honest this took so long partially cause I could NOT decide what they would be betting on and then I was struck with the best idea ever.

“Donnie what did you do to the kitchen?” Jason shouted the moment he got home. A lengthy day at the office. He hoped on the way home that he could just come in, curl up on the sofa with his daughter, and catch his breath for a bit.

Instead he finds… whatever this is. It’s definitely some new invention except the entire contraption is built around half the kitchen. Ropes, pulleys, mechanical arms equipped with brushes and towels, all of it hovering around the sink. 

Donnie—his husband, love of his life, the stupidest genius to ever exist—must be putting the final touches on the device in question. Holly sat on his shoulders, smiling. 

“What, you don’t like it?” Donnie straightened up and twirled the screwdriver in his hand. “I thought it was about time we finally rid ourselves of the worst chore in the house.” 

“Boo dishes!” Holly giggled. 

Jason crossed his arms. “Considering I’m the only one who does them around here, I fail to see the point of this.” 

“So you don’t have to do them either.” Donnie threw open his arms before he began to point at the parts of the contraption. “The flip of a switch and this will pluck all those gross dishes out of the sink, rinse them, and then deposit them into the dishwasher.” 

“Gross dishes.” Holly nodded. 

Jason’s gaze trailed over the mechanics of this whole thing. Donnie truly made ingenious devices on a regular basis, but this one was definitely made on a whim. But why? What did—

Jason finally noted the actual dishes in the sink, the top of which was a very cheese crusted pan. 

He sighed. “Holly want grilled cheese again?”

“Grill cheese!” The two year old chanted, kicking her legs. 

“Yes, and as usual it got everywhere and got stuck.” Donnie crossed his arms.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Wow, maybe that wouldn’t happen if you used less cheese, like I said, and stopped ruining the seasoning on my cast iron pan.” 

Donnie cringed. “How can you cook in it when it’s so greasy?”

“That is the point! You’re so lucky I don’t tattle on you to Mikey who would probably launch you into the sun for pulling things like that.” Jason groaned and ran his hands down his face. “I’m too tired for this. I just got done with work. I need to sit down.”

The smile returned to his husband’s face. “Yes, yes, go sit. I’m going to fire this up while you relax.” He reached up to lift Holly off his shoulders and held her out. 

The little softshell beamed at Jase, sticking her little hands out and reaching for him. He’d never been able to resist it and pulled her into her arms. Not in a huggy mood however, it seemed. She quickly climbed up his chest and onto his shoulders this time, resuming her sitting position. Her hands ruffled his hair before she nuzzled her nose into it. 

Jason sighed, tolerating it and the inevitable amount of spit that he’d end up having to brush out later. “Fine, I’ll go sit down. But I’m betting this is going to end in a disaster.” 

“Scoff, ye of little faith.”

“So sure of yourself, huh?”

“Naturally.” Donnie put a hand on his chest. “In fact, I’ll meet your bet. I bet it’ll run at least well enough that it becomes a permanent part of the apartment.”

“Uh, huh. And if I win, you do dishes for a week.”

His husband gave a horrified gasp. He grit his teeth as he glanced at the crusted cheese, but then narrowed his eyes as he turned back to Jase. “Fine. And if I win, you’re on bath duty for the week.”

Holly gasped and gripped Jase’s hair so hard that it hurt. “Bath?” 

“Ow, no.” Jason spoke through his teeth and reached up to get his daughter to let go. “Not right now. Maybe later.” 

She blew a raspberry but settled down. 

“Come on, let’s let Dad make a fool of himself on his own.” He turned to head into the living room. “Do you want to watch something on TV?”

“This is going to work.” Donnie called after him. 

Jason ignored it. He plopped onto the sofa and turned the TV on. Holly less climbed off his shoulders and more rolled down onto his lap. 

He didn’t even remotely enjoy most of the kids shows on these days, but thankfully Holly was also strangely fascinated with nature documentaries. Probably due to her being Donnie’s daughter, if Jason had to guess. Then again his father would sometimes tell funny stories about him standing two inches from the TV whenever factory lines were on the screen. 

At any rate, he opened the first animal one he could find. Life cycles of island parrots, sure. It worked its magic well enough. He leaned back against the sofa and Holly curled up on his chest, eyes glued to the screen. 

Jason gently ran a hand over her shell. “How was your day?”

“Mmm,” she just hummed at first, still watching the screen. “Fun.” 

“Yeah? Watched Dad build something crazy in the kitchen.”

“Grill cheese.” 

Jason laughed. “Yeah, guess that would make it a good day.” He was about to ask if she got a nap, but that question was answered as she curled up even tighter. Her eyes struggled to stay open. She never lasted long with him around, mainly because he was so much warmer than her. 

Sadly he didn’t get the chance to listen to her usual squeaky snores. Something snapped in the kitchen, followed by a loud whirring noise, a clang, and then the shattering of ceramics. 

Jason jumped off the sofa, keeping an arm around his daughter to hold her steady. Not steady enough to keep her still, however. The motion woke her right back up and she whined and rubbed her eyes. At least she didn’t burst into tears. 

He rushed into the kitchen and tried not to scream. Half of the contraption was tangled up inside itself, metal limbs straining against their bonds. Three broken plates on the floor, along with a huge puddle of water. And was the pan in the ceiling? Oh it was. It absolutely was.

And Donnie stood there, eyes wide and still crouched down like he had to dodge something and was too afraid to get back up. He glanced at the mess, the device, and then at Jase. 

Jason shifted his grip on Holly so he could hold her with one arm and placed a hand on his hip. “Didn’t work, huh?”

His husband avoided his gaze. “Well… perhaps I need to adjust—”

“Didn’t work.”

“I just need to try—”

“You lost, Donnie, admit it.” 

“Ugh.” He straightened up, fists clenched at his sides. “Fine. Fine. This set up was too rushed. Next time—”

“No. Stop. No next time.” Jason sighed. “I can do the dishes, Donnie, it’s fine.” 

“But it could be easier.”

“Easier than cleaning up the aftermath?” He pointed at the floor and then the ceiling.

“W-well—”

“That’s your job, by the way, along with dishes for the next week. As per our agreement.” He turned around on his heel to head to the living room once more. 

“Ugh, fine! Fine. I’ll do the dumb dishes for a week. You think that’s such a big deal?”

“It will be when Holly leaves the crusts off her sandwiches again and I leave them to soak.” Jason smiled at his daughter who only blinked at him. Obviously not taking in the conversation. 

Donnie let out a horrified screech. “Jase! You wouldn’t dare!” 

“After the five times you’ve left it in there for me to deal with? Yeah, I would dare.” Jason sat on the sofa once more. “Now clean the kitchen.” 

“So cruel!”

“You knew that long before you married me.” He curled up against the cushions and once more Holly lay down on his chest, already trying to doze off again. “And then you went and did that anyway, and now it’s way too late for you to back out.”

“I know we’re bickering, but there’s no way I’d back out of this.” Donnie shouted back as the clink of broken plates came from the kitchen.

Jason smiled, relaxing further into the sofa. Yeah, he knew that. He wouldn’t back out of it either.

Even when his genius husband got stupid ideas like this.

[sm-writes-chaos]

Hello, and happy Blorbo blusday!! I'm well *checks clock* 1h late gasp! As an excuse I can only say that today I have been packing and I forgot it was Thursday. (As usual I am @writeblr-of-my-own) ANYWAYS. For today's question, I'd like to know about food preference and cooking skills of your blorbo(es)! What can they cook, what they like to eat, whether they are good in the kitchen, or better away from it and close to a fire extinguisher!

Hello! It seems I am late as well! About four hours till blorbo blursday ends for me.

Anyways, food!

First up, Twuecud: (this is gonna be long)

Gage is an absolutely horrible cook. He can barely cook oatmeal without burning it somehow. This incorrect quote fits him:

Nicole: Ew. What kind of tea is this? Gage: I boiled gatorade.

I think hes a sandwich guy as for food preference.

Tylee loves anything if you put sprinkles on it, 'cause it "looks prettier." When they went camping she only brought jellybeans and goldfish for food. She is not trusted in the kitchen. She will get distracted while cooking and set off the fire alarm.

Alison loves chips. A true connoisseur, she will tell you anything you need to know about them. Although when it comes to cooking it starts well, but ends up burnt every time. (Probably because of her curse, did I ever mention that?)

Nicole is loyal to Popsi, the sponsored drink in her favorite show. She refuses to follow a recipe when baking. It ends up with a lot of flour on the floor, and lumpy cakes. She can decorate them well though, with swirly bows and perfect cursive. She bakes cakes just to decorate them, throwing them out afterwards. Unless she forgets and an unlucky person comes along to take a bite, ending up with a mouthful of salt and under cooked batter.

Jee likes to help Nicole decorate sometimes, as he's majoring in graphic design, (is that a real major?) He is very lazy when it comes to food, ordering pizza and eating ramen when he can. He put's peanut butter on foods that shouldn't ever have peanut butter, and his friends often catch him doing it and try to get him to stop.

Vishal is not aware of what cooking is. He was fed specially made food from professional cooks,('cause rich), and he probably hasn't ever set foot in a kitchen. Once he discovers them though, I bet he'll love burritos.

Mikal is the only competent chef. He is the only one with enough patience to watch a boiling pot. But of course he tries to make machines to do things for him. He likes cooking a lot more when it's for friends and not just for himself. He likes to impress them. As for eating food, he loves all things bread. And he's Jewish so he doesn't eat pork.

-

Now 1950 Again:

Daniel can cook surprisingly well if he actually tries, not so good at making a plate look good though. He loves brownies, especially the ones his mom makes.

Dr.Marv cannot cook to save his life. He eats whatever's lying around, whether that be a stale taco shell, or leftover takeout. Food was something his wife always made, and just thinking about a homemade meal makes him sad. (woah didn't realize how much trauma dr marv must have holy crap)

-

And finally, How Hope Made Her a Hero:

Norah does not have many food options as of now, just what she can manage to buy from what little money she can earn because her father certainty isn't helping. Which mostly consists of bread and jam that Miss. Marmel gives her for free. She could probably cook well considering a little fact that comes in later ;) I think she'd love fish a lot.

Rufus is good at the hunting and killing part, but cooking not so well. He possesses the determination and patience to cook, but is clueless for the steps to take. Norah will leave him to watch any meat cooking while she goes and does something else, and Rufus is eager to help.

Alphair uses magic of course to cook all his meals. If he doesn't understand a meal though, like a really complicated recipe, the magic will get confused and make a disaster. If you told him to make a grilled cheese sandwich without magic I think he would cry.

Whoo that's about all! Thank you for the ask I loved talking about this!

[dearclem]

* ( ! ) 𝒍𝒖𝒙 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒔

when: april 1st, roughly 11:47PM. where: towards the back of rhee's bar & grill. what: solo for this plot drop. warnings: ocd, broken bones, blood, mentions of death. mentioned: sry i'm not tagging none yall. clem adores too many of u dweebs 😔

the second game goes into overtime and clem hides a yawn. her social battery is running on fumes by this point in the evening, but the time she’s spent with friends warms her face as she weaves through the crowd towards the back of the bar to relieve herself, much to her own dismay. she doesn't like public restrooms; not knowing how well they were cleaned or who may have used them was enough to make her skin crawl, but a night filled with bottomless water and that singular virgin mojito won’t allow her to last until she makes it home.

she’s meticulous in the way she washes her hands, following a routine she’s had since childhood: rinse. put soap inside right palm. dampen soap. lather on entire surface of hands, then wrists, going up to mid-forearm. rinse. flick fingers into the sink thirteen times. repeat entire process three times before drying hands. finish routine by wiping sink and counter with a fresh paper towel until area is dry. by following the routine, it ensures she doesn't get in trouble and nothing bad will happen to someone she cares about. it doesn't make sense, of course, but obsessive thoughts and compulsions rarely do.

she hears the crowd pick up in volume, indicating the games have finally come to an end for the evening just as she's carefully tossing the paper towel into the garbage and she decides it best to give kage a heads up about her plans. retrieving the mobile from her back pocket, the raven happens to notice the time and her lips curl into a smile as she makes a mental note to give deshaun the right to say i told you so, before firing off a text message:

(  clem 📲 favorite  ):  everything’s finally over! i’m going to stay behind for a bit to help clean up and i promised kennedy i’d wait for her so she can give me something, but i’ll let you know when i’m on my way home 🖤

she’s in the process of putting her phone away when she exits back into the hallway, but the stairs leading to the basement catch her eye, stopping her in her tracks just past the edge of the wall. staring down the darkened descent serves as inspiration, kicking her imagination into overdrive and lights her up like a christmas tree.  ❝  oh, why haven't i used this before! just imagine all the horrors i can hide in a dark, damp, creepy basement!  ❞  the exclamation is spoken softly, lost in the murmur of the patrons still reeling from their own alcohol-infused excitement, before she senses someone approaching. believing it to be someone who needed to use the restroom like herself, she moves to grant them more room within the hallway, offering them a politely spoken,  ❝  oh, excuse me. sorry,  ❞  for taking up space. clem is so focused on committing her ideas to memory so she doesn't forget them before they can be written down that she can't bring herself to shift her attention despite her feet beginning to carry her back to the floor.

she’s only able to take a couple steps of her own when she realises she can hear the other's footsteps reverberating throughout the hallway---an oddity, given the lively atmosphere of the place---and, wait, why do they sound quicker than usual? her movements cease as clem's head whips forward so she can find out why.. except she's given no time to react before she's shoulder checked by the stranger.

they’re much stronger; solid and broad, especially in comparison to herself, and there's enough force that it knocks her off balance, but she hadn’t realised just how close she’d gotten to the edge of the initial step in her attempt to give them more room to pass until her foot slips off the edge, ankle rolling, and suddenly she’s free falling.

instinct wastes no time kicking in and she tries to catch herself, but the impact of her weight landing on the outstretched arm when it comes in contact with one of the steps immediately renders it useless and it caves. her world is spinning now, causing her to lose all sense of direction, but even knowing the best way to protect herself, learned through the research she’s stumbled across throughout her career as a writer, it does nothing to help her. using one's arms to protect their head and curling into a ball to roll down is nowhere near as easy as people make it seem and just as clem starts to think she's found a never ending staircase, she finally lands with a resounding thud, paired with a groan as her head ricochets off the basement floor.

the irony of the situation and the way it played out similarly to that of one she’d considered for her protagonist would be enough to elicit a chuckle had she not been in so much pain. her entire body aches: arms, legs, ribs, back, neck, head, and she could’ve sworn she heard things crack on her descent, though she can’t pinpoint exactly where and clem chokes back a sob. she doesn’t risk moving, both in fear of potentially hurting herself further and.. what if they're still around, looking down at me, watching?

her vision swims as dizziness overtakes her. her consciousness is beginning to slip, and it worries her, so she does the only thing she can think of to keep herself awake until help  (  hopefully  )  arrives: she begins to think of those important to her.

aranya, kage, deshaun, monty, jacob, lany, dilara, sadiye, vera, emira, selin, julia, hyejin, lunara, paisley, yasmin, kahlan, kyle, dae-eun, mariana, crawford, her agent, her listeners, malachi---maybe more, but it's getting harder for her to remember names. it surprises her, though, the amount she does remember. for someone who has always felt so alone in the world, she doesn’t have enough fingers to count all of those she cares about most, regardless of where their relationship may stand now, but she can't help wondering why she didn't try to make more happy memories with them? why wasn’t she nicer or more involved? why wasn't she more willing to forgive and seek her own forgiveness? most importantly, when's the last time she told them i love you? even after the loss of vivian and amoni, and almost losing jacob, why did she continue to take it all for granted?

it's getting harder to keep her eyes open and she can feel her stomach churning, though it's hard to tell if that's due to the level of pain she's in or the possible concussion. blood trickles from the laceration on her forehead into her eye and it burns, but her body is battered and bruised, making it impossible for her to wipe it away and she wonders if this is how she's going to die; alone, scared, and hurt by a combination of her own stupidity and the cruelty of another------and when her world goes black, she swears she hears her mother's voice:

it's not your time yet, so go continue making me proud, clem. you have people waiting for you.

[gnattyplayssims]

1932 Pt1 - Meeting Anabelle

Kailee woke up one summer morning to yelling. The others were already sitting around the fire and Wisteria looked angry. "What do you mean you're staying?"

Her son looked at the ground, "I want to stay with Hannah and her sisters"

"It's time to be done with this crush"

The others around the fire shifted uncomfortably as Wisteria continued her tirade. "I know you think it's love-"

"Wisty." Her husband interrupted her and she stopped, "Micky's a man now let him make his own mistakes."

Wisty focused on the fire as silence fell over the group.

"Is that really what you think?" Micky asked his dad quietly, "that it's a mistake?"

"We just think you're romanticizing marriage."

"I'm not making him marry me."

"No one said you were."

"I just don't want anyone thinking I manipulated this just cause there's a baby."

"A baby?"

"Yes, Micky didn't want to tell you but yes I'm having a baby." "We're having a baby."

"Right, and we know this is a really bad time to be having a baby and we're living in tents but there's nothing that can be done about it. We'd appreciate some understanding."

Kye put another marshmallow on his stick as they continued arguing. Kailee caught his gaze and rolled her eyes as she joined Autumn at the grill. It wasn't exactly the quiet mornings they had imagined when they had left Henford but he was glad for the distractions.

"Are you hearing this Autumn?" The youngest sister Terra called out. "Hannah's using a baby to get a man"

"I AM NOT!" She sighed tears welling up in your eyes as she tried to get ahold of herself.

Micky looked at her worried, "If you don't want to get married, we don't have to"

"I just don't want to pressure you."

"You keep saying that but you're not pressuring me. Why is this bothering you so much?"

"My mom...she tricked my dad into marrying her by telling him she was pregnant. They hated each other."

"We won't be like that. I want to marry you."

"Alright now that that's settled." Callen interrupted as the kids got a little too lost in each other. "Looks like we have a ceremony to perform."

Wisteria scoffed, "Fine, I guess I can do the wash so we at least have clean clothes to wear."

"Wow, this is really happening!"

While the Unger family began making preparations, Kye tried to get some time alone in the tent. But the bustle of the camp made it difficult to hear his own thoughts let alone take a nap. Finally he gave up.

"Where are you going." Kailee called out.

"To get some air."

With Clover on his heels, Kye went for a run near the harbor. He'd been more focused on the drama than his own life. The camp had been loud enough to drown things out. It'd been over a year since David had told him to go find himself and he felt no closer to that goal.

"Ahh!"

Rounding a corner he barreled headlong into a woman running the opposite direction. He tried to steady her but Clover got excited and caused her to lose her footing. He wrapped his arms around her hoping to catch her like he'd seen in one of those silent films as a teenager.

Unfortunately, they were not in a film and soon they were tumbling onto the ground together. She gazed up at him with wide sparkling eyes. "Are...are you okay?"

For a moment she just looked at him in surprise then, "I think I'd be better if you weren't laying on my rib cage."

"Oh right!" He climbed off her, reaching out his hand to help her to her feet. "I'm really sorry, I was deep in thought and not paying attention to where I was going"

"Clearly." She said reaching for his hand. A look of irritation crossed her face and she sighed in frustration.

Kye reached down to grab her elbow, "What? Are you hurt somewhere."

She swallowed as he got closer, his hands holding her elbows firmly as he scanned for injuries. "I'm fine...but I think I missed my boat." She pulled away trying to steady the uneasy turn of her stomach

She touched the back of her head and winced, her hand coming away red from where she had hit it on the cement. "You're bleeding."

"I'm fine, really."

"No, no" Her heart leapt as he touched her temple "You could have a concussion. I have bandages back at my camp."

It had started to rain by the time they arrived back at the camp. She sat down at the picnic table so he could check her head and once he was satisfied she wasn't going to die or suffer memory loss, he went to the dying fire and poured them both a cup of coffee.

"We should probably get inside the tent, I wouldn't want you to catch cold."

"It's only a drizzle. Besides the rain will wash the blood out of my hair." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."

"You just have to find the rainbow even in storms."

He sat down next to her laying his arm across the table top. "You can't see rainbows when it's raining."

"No...but you can hope for them. All storms pass and then-"

"Yeah. Rainbows, I gotcha. But rain also brings weeds so...there's that." He took a sip of his coffee.

"That's...true." For a moment they sat in awkward silence. She took a sip of her coffee locking her eyes on him skeptically. "Somehow I don't think we're talking about weeds."

Kye laughed nervously, "Ha, what makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch. Am I wrong?"

"Noo"

"Oh my Watcher are you the weed?"

"What?! Why would you...? He suddenly noticed he had his arm around her and withdrew it quickly

"You are aren't you?"

"Stop! When did this get so philosophical?" He clutched his cup in his hand his thoughts a more jumbled mess inside his head.

"I'm sorry." She bit her lip. "My brother told me once I don't know how to keep my sunshine in. I don't think it was a compliment."

"It's...fine. I could probably use a little sunshine even if it makes weeds grow."

"It also can make them shrivel up"

"Ha, yeah be that kind"

1932 Pt2 - Anabelle Stays

[carolmunson]

let's go girls:

“We’re going over to Steve’s tonight,” Robin practically hums around a mouthful of fruit loops, completely unaware of you already stewing about the boy whose name just rolled off her tongue this early in the morning. 

my favorite unaware queen. yes, make plans at my shitty ex bfs house who i hate. thank you so much.

“That’s cool with me.” You muster up enough effort to twist your lips up into a smile that feels more like a grimace. The smashed rainbow Robin reveals in her mouth when she laughs tells you it is. “Do me a favor, and never go into acting.” Swallowing loudly, she drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clank. “I do appreciate you trying to pretend like you’re okay with it, though, and in all seriousness, we haven’t gone this long without seeing each other in like, forever. He says you're keeping me hostage.”

my favorite codependent idiot duo, truly my own true pairing. i will always love them.

“Eddie’s off tonight, so we’re having a little reunion barbecue, and Steve’s gonna grill.”

eddie's off? more like i'm getting eddie off.

”Why stop at just the four of us, let’s invite Vickie, make it a real party.” The name of your best friend’s ex leaves your mouth before you can stop it, instant regret making a heavy home in your chest that feels like it might cave in when her mood shifts with glassy eyes and it’s completely your fault. “I take back what I said, I need you to start acting again.” Jumping off the counter, you set your mug down so you can grab her arm before she can take those few steps out of the kitchen.  “Hey! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”  She doesn’t put up much of a fight, even though you deserve it, the blue in her eyes turn to ice when she looks at you.

the way i just wanted to fight reader. who am i, steve?! don't bring up vickie! my princess is fragile!

The honey colored tips of his chestnut hair curl at the ends, sticking out of the sides of his backwards baseball hat. A well worn black cotton shirt with the sleeves cut out has the arms that you’d dreamt about on full display. The summer sun somehow dotting even more freckles across his shoulder blades that flex everytime he spins his car keys around his finger. The dark cherry red basketball shorts he wears hit the bottoms of his hairy thighs, the red mesh even more vibrant against his tan skin, just like the white leather of the Nike Cortez’s that cover his feet. 

OH FUCK OFF LEIGHANNE.

”You don’t have to help, you know?” His voice comes out just loud enough for you to hear over the running water, the small smacking sound of the fridge closing behind it, “If you’re that uncomfortable, I can do it.”

i wanna kiss him so bad, actually :(

”I know baby, I know,” he coos in a soothing voice, and in your panic you almost don’t catch the old nickname that slips off his tongue with ease. Long fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to him, “Let me see, stay still.”

i just choked

Steve laughs again, just like the one you heard on your way out and the sound burrows in your heart, making it swell, giddiness roiling deep in your gut. You ignore Robin’s obnoxious toothy grin next to you, doubling down even more when she starts to wiggle her eyebrows. The two beer cans at her feet tell you everything you need to know.

i am concerned about robin's drinking.

“Jesus, easy tiger,” Eddie snorts, finishing off the last of his beer before crushing the tin can in his hand, tossing it on his empty plate, “The trash isn’t going anywhere.”

i need him biblically.

“This isn’t awkward at all,” Eddie grumbles, taking another sip of his beer to help the uncomfortable tension that threatens to settle over the circle.

i will break the tension, with a hand job.

Steve nods with a tight lipped smile taking one last glance in your direction before sitting up in his chair with an idea that makes his cheeks push up and his eyes sparkle against the light of the fire. “Alright, never have I ever pretended to not only have a driver's license but also own a car that actually belongs to my best friend so I can hook up with a girl in the backseat.” A quiet sigh escapes your lungs, shoulders relaxing just a little when Robin groans loudly at the attack that’s clearly focused on her. Oblivious to the fact that you’re hanging on by a thread next to her, you stare fixed on the way the flames lick up into the night. 

ugh i love them. i love their friendship. they are truly my faves.

”You think or you know?” Cocking a brow with a shit eating grin that tells him you aren’t going to fold easy, the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his desk.  He sucks at his teeth, rolling his shoulders with the kind of laugh that makes the dull ache between your legs turn into a throb. “I know. Trust me.” He smirks, gaze lingering where the soft dough of your thighs meet before finding your eyes again, “Guess what else I know?” It's hard for you to catch your breath when he looks at you like this and you wonder if he notices the quick heaves of your chest or the way your eyes glaze over from being this close to him.

can't wait to FUCK HIM! excited to HAVE SEX!

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter two -

I might kill my ex, not the best idea

Eddie warned Robin that a game of never have I ever was a bad idea, and you should know better than to go snooping where you don’t belong.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking (hey it’s a summer time barbecue in the midwest), you thought there was a lot tension the last chapter? baby, you haven’t seen nothing yet. jealousy, spicy things are revealed about all of them during a drinking game.

wc: 9.5k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

It’s been one week.

One entire week without even so much of a glimpse of that permanently messy head of hair, and god, you hated how much it bothered you. Ears perking up every time you’d catch the cadence of his voice through the receiver of Robin’s cordless phone the few times he called her to check in. Like an unwanted guest who wasn’t taking the hint, his broad shoulders and full pink lips that somehow always look like they need to be kissed haunt your unsuspecting dreams at night. 

You hate it, you hate him, and you try not to spiral about why it feels like the opposite.

“We’re going over to Steve’s tonight,” Robin practically hums around a mouthful of fruit loops, completely unaware of you already stewing about the boy whose name just rolled off her tongue this early in the morning. 

“What?” You snap, tearing your eyes from the slow pour of the coffee maker in front of you, grouchy and wound up from a dream about his big hands pulling your legs apart so perfect white teeth could nip at the inside of your thighs.

“Steve, you know that guy you told me you’d try and be nice to. The one who’s fixing your car?” Sarcasm drips from her tone as she scoops up another bite, “We’re going to his house.”

Of course.

“That’s cool with me.” You muster up enough effort to twist your lips up into a smile that feels more like a grimace. The smashed rainbow Robin reveals in her mouth when she laughs tells you it is.

“Do me a favor, and never go into acting.” Swallowing loudly, she drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clank. “I do appreciate you trying to pretend like you’re okay with it, though, and in all seriousness, we haven’t gone this long without seeing each other in like, forever. He says you're keeping me hostage.”

“I’m keeping you hostage?!” You scoff with a roll of your eyes, turning your back to finally pour yourself the cup of coffee you’ve waited so patiently for. “He’s the best friend stealer.”

“I’m not going to lie, I think I like you two fighting over me,” she laughs, looking a little too smug for your liking as she brings her empty bowl to the sink, Garfield slippers scuffling across the tile, too lazy to pick up her feet from the floor.

“Yeah, 'cause you’re sick.” A real smile curls up into your cup, inhaling the rich scent into your nose. “What are your plans to torture me with his presence this time?” 

Robin narrows her stare at you in a silent warning, pulling herself up to sit on the counter, orange cat covered feet dangling freely as you meet her gaze with softened eyes in a silent apology.

“Eddie’s off tonight, so we’re having a little reunion barbecue, and Steve’s gonna grill.”

Choking on your coffee, you sputter your sip back into your mug, turning her freckled face sour.

“Since when does Steve know how to cook, let alone grill?”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you know you’re skating on thin ice, but all the built up tension that tightens your muscles, and buzzes incessantly at your fingertips makes everything feel impossible to control.

“He’s not seventeen anymore - “

“Really? He had me fooled shoving his tongue down some pretty blonde’s throat at Rick’s the other night.” 

“That’s - come on, you know that's not fair. He didn’t even know -”

”Why stop at just the four of us, let’s invite Vickie, make it a real party.”

The name of your best friend’s ex leaves your mouth before you can stop it, instant regret making a heavy home in your chest that feels like it might cave in when her mood shifts with glassy eyes and it’s completely your fault.

“I take back what I said, I need you to start acting again.”

Jumping off the counter, you set your mug down so you can grab her arm before she can take those few steps out of the kitchen. 

“Hey! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” 

She doesn’t put up much of a fight, even though you deserve it, the blue in her eyes turn to ice when she looks at you.

“I’m sorry.”

She holds your stare until she can tell you actually mean it, melting glaciers with a heavy sigh. 

“It’s fine, I get it.” 

Her words come out soft, just like the lines that smooth on her face.

“I know this is weird and like totally against friend code or whatever, but I think that just goes to show how much he must mean to me or even a testament to how much he’s changed if I’m even asking you to just try and do this. Just try, that’s all.”

“No, you’re right,” you fluster, doing your best to reassure her in a shaky voice, “I just slept badly and had a really weird dream. It just threw me off a little. I’m being so awful and I’m sorry.” 

Flashes of the way his hands gripped your hips and the dirty things he whispered in your ear has your palms start to sweat, making you loosen your grip on her arm before she can notice. 

Robin searches your face for the reassurance that she needs before a small smile finally tugs at the corners of her lips.“This is why you’re my best friend.” She pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Only if you tell him that.” 

Snaking your arms around her waist, you let out a shaky laugh, silently preparing to see the man who hasn’t left the crevices of your mind since you stepped foot back in Hawkins.

———

It feels like you’re back in high school the way you can’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror, the nerves still feel the same.

Your gaze wanders up and down your reflection, turning from side to side, overly critical eyes take in your curves that are on display a little more than normal and you wonder if Robin will notice. Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, better yet you wonder if Robin will notice and have something to say about it. 

“You’re certainly spending a lot of time on an outfit.” Your best friend whistles low as she leans against the open bedroom door confirming your fears with a cross of her arms.

“Just trying to remember what I brought is all.” You don’t engage with the amusement that hides in her tone, smoothing down the short black skirt that flares over the tops of your thighs, before adjusting the straps on your matching tank top.

“Riiiight,” she snorts, earning the kind of glare that has her raising her hands in defense before a shit-eating grin cracks wide across her face. “I’m going to need you to hurry up, though. Do I need to remind you that we’re walking?”

“I’m done!” You huff, sock covered feet digging into her cream carpet as you make your way toward her, “I just need to put on my shoes.”

“You’ve got twenty secon-” she agonizes before three hard knocks on her front door cut her off. Her cheshire smile falters as she turns confused.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get to finish that sentence,” you warn in a harsh whisper, grabbing your Converse that had been haphazardly kicked off earlier in the corner. 

Robin puts a ringed finger to her lips, like the possibility of a kidnapper being on the other side is extremely probable, and it’s her turn to glare when you roll your eyes at her dramatics. Following her out to the living room, you plop down on the couch, watching her slowly creep to the front door. Both her hands find the blue painted wood pushing up on the toes of her Reeboks to look out the peephole.

“Steve?!” 

The name makes your stomach flip, a shaky breath pushing its way through watermelon flavored lips because you thought you had more time than this. Keeping a poker face, you take your time tying your laces as she swings the door open. Head down, your eyes keep their focus on how the dirty white strings move between your fingers. 

You’re not ready to look at him. Not yet.

“After taking you to school at 7am every day after I graduated, you really thought I was going to let you walk?” The smile in his voice is evident, a fond memory you’re not a part of but you can still feel the warmth inside it by the way he speaks. 

“Thank god,” she starts, the insinuation of the words that are going to follow making your eyes snap up, narrowed and shooting daggers at your best friend, catching Steve’s attention in the process. 

“We were going to be late.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, his gaze claiming yours and holding it against your will, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his full lips and suddenly it’s so much warmer in her living room than it was two seconds ago. “Why’s that?”

He somehow looks even better than the last time you saw him, a bad habit you’re quickly learning that he has. The honey colored tips of his chestnut hair curl at the ends, sticking out of the sides of his backwards baseball hat. A well worn black cotton shirt with the sleeves cut out has the arms that you’d dreamt about on full display. The summer sun somehow dotting even more freckles across his shoulder blades that flex everytime he spins his car keys around his finger. The dark cherry red basketball shorts he wears hit the bottoms of his hairy thighs, the red mesh even more vibrant against his tan skin, just like the white leather of the Nike Cortez’s that cover his feet. 

“She’s just being dramatic,” you grumble, finally tearing your eyes from the dark moss that covers the chocolate inside his, doing your best to ignore the heat of them wandering the bare skin of your legs as you finish tying your shoes.

“You changed your outfit like sixty times!” 

This is the moment that you decide you’re going to kill Robin in her sleep tonight.

“Well, I’m ready so you both can stop being annoying now.” Standing, you tug down the bottom of your skirt that suddenly feels even shorter with his full attention on you like this.

“Wait, why am I annoying? I just got here.” Steve argues when your words finally sink in, snapping him out of his daze, catching the keys in his palm. 

“You’re always annoying, Harrington,” you sigh, hoping your deflections are working, but the small smile that never leaves his lips tells you it’s not.

“Shotgun!” Robin calls out like it’s something you would have argued over. Your shoulder brushes with his as you push your way out the door, sending sparks to the tips of your fingers and making your hair stand on end. Steve and the summer heat warm your skin. 

“It’s all yours,” you concede with ease, ignoring the butterfly wings that wreak havoc in your rib cage when the spice of his cologne makes its way into your nose.

It was going to be a night.

Steve keeps the windows rolled down, the muggy air making your bare thighs stick together and to the hot leather of his backseat. It drowns out the music as he speeds down the back roads, making the conversation between him and Robin upfront almost inaudible.

You don’t worry about what they might be saying, not even when they both start gesturing wildly with their hands. Taking advantage of the time left alone, you put all of your focus into preparing yourself for the next few hours, doing your best to push the lingering thoughts of your dream deep down to a place that no one can find. A task that proves to be much harder while avoiding his gaze that dares you to meet it in the rear view mirror the entire way. 

The memories you have of the back of his car don’t help either.

Pulling into Forest Hills trailer park, you’re surprised at the facelift they finally gave it after all these years. Lush green grass grows where the yellow and brown shrub used to be, and a wooden gazebo that looks like it’s missing a finishing coat stands tall, replacing the picnic table where you and the metal head used to smoke. Even the gravel that paves the road looks new and gray, not the dirt brown mud that it used to be. 

It’s still a struggle to wrap your head around the fact that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the former king of Hawkin’s and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson not only work together, but live together too. You would have laughed in anyone’s face if they told you this five years ago. 

The BMW’s tires crunch loudly against the rocks as Steve pulls into the driveway of a hunter green trailer. It sits in the back of the park, almost touching the edge of the woods behind it. A faded white line running along the length that matches the metal railing of their front entrance and the overhang that covers it. The paint peels from parts of the metal in the heat, revealing spots of the gray hidden underneath. A worn in deep maroon couch sits on the porch just like the dirty brown one at Wayne’s trailer, and you already know Eddie spends his mornings there. You internally groan when you catch yourself wondering if Steve does too.

“Home sweet home,” he hums, cutting the engine off and pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You dare to meet his eyes for the first time since you left the apartment when Robin jumps out of the front seat, and you immediately regret it. He smiles wide, finally catching your attention, those perfect white teeth baring themselves at you as he pulls off his hat to run a hand through his sweaty bed head. The long strand he’s always at battle with falls through the opening in the back when he puts it on again, because, of course it does.

“Good to see you finally slumming it with the rest of us, King Steve,” you snort, pulling on the handle to let yourself out, ending any chance of conversation.

If it wasn’t for your Eddie barreling out of the front door to greet you and Robin with a big dimpled grin and a freshly rolled joint, you would’ve thought a little harder about the way Steve winced at the nickname.

The Munson/Harrington Bachelor pad anomaly isn’t exactly what you expected it to be, but even then you weren’t entirely sure what that was. It’s cozy just like how Wayne’s used to be but where there’s hand me downs that have been through the short line of Munson men’s hands, there’s an equal amount of obviously perfectly well kept new. Like the shiny big TV in the center of their living room, and the well-loved lazy boy in front of it, that still had cigarette burns from its previous owner, next to the rich tan leather couch right by it.

It smells like it has just been cleaned, a sanitizing lilac still lingering in the air, trying its best to cover the smell of all grease stained clothing in their hampers and the smoke from joints like the one Eddie’s about to put out in an ashtray full of ones just like it.

He sits at the head of the table with a lopsided grin that pushes up the apples of his cheeks and reveals the deep dimples in the center of them. Droopy lids frame his bloodshot eyes that meet your own. Orange and pinks paint the darkening sky through the sliding glass door behind him. 

“I still can’t believe you’re actually here,” Eddie chuckles with a fond glint in big brown eyes leaning back in his chair that squeaks under the redistribution of his weight.

“Back by popular demand,” you smirk, pointing at Robin, who sits just on the other side of the table, glassy eyed with an unwavering smile. 

You try to ignore how the empty chair next to her bothers you, or they way your eyes keep looking toward the kitchen through the small opening of their little island, giving you the perfect view of Steve prepping dinner. His thick eyebrows are furrowed as he digs through spice racks and drawers, front teeth digging into the plushness of his bottom lip deep in thought.

“I think this calls for a fire,” Eddie announces loudly, bringing you back to the conversation with a slap of his palms on the wood of the table and the kind of smirk that tells you that you’ve been caught.

“We told Janice next door weekends only after last time,” Steve’s voice startles you, making his presence known, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 

“It’s Thursday. Practically the weekend. Besides it’s a special occasion, look who’s here Stevie boy.” Something in Eddie’s tone makes Steve’s eyes narrow in a silent threat that only makes the metal heads' lips twist up into something more devilish. 

“You have to put it out before bed then, I’m not dealing with it like last time.” Steve accepts defeat quicker than anticipated, “And if she calls or comes over to complain at all, that's all on you too.”

”Deal,” Eddie agrees with five fingers across his heart, the silver of his rings catching in the low light of their trailer.“I think she’s got a crush on me anyway.”

“She’s married,” Steve dead pans with a deep sigh, taking his hat off to run another hand through his hair and you hate the way it has your thighs meeting under the table. “Who’s helping me with dinner then?”

He knows better than to look at you, so his gaze falls onto his roommate and best friend.

”Don’t look at me!” Robin argues, raising her right hand to show off the faded scar on her palm. “Last time I tried to help, I had to get stitches, remember?”

”The fire’s a full time job I’m afraid,” Eddie shrugs, standing up. Not missing a beat, they both look at each other like they're in on some secret that you and Steve aren’t apart of before their eyes land on you.

”You know I’m not a good cook,” you whine, refusing to meet the heat of Steve’s stare that burns against the side of your face.

”I’m sure Steve’s more than willing to help teach you, princess.” Eddie grins, and it makes you want to slap the dimples clean off his face.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I can do it by myself,” Steve interjects with a sigh before you have a chance to respond with something that he knows will just egg the metal head on and get his ego even more bruised.

He’s not expecting the way your eyes snap to his, or the way they narrow with something fiery deep inside them.

”We’re grown adults, Steve. I think I can handle helping you cut some vegetables or whatever it is you need me to do.” Standing up with a shove of your chair, he doesn’t even attempt to argue about how that’s the exact opposite of what you just said.

”There we go! Problem solved.” Eddie’s grin is mischievous, and so is the wink he throws at his roommate before opening the sliding glass door, ushering Robin out and leaving you both alone.

The tension inside the kitchen hangs thicker in the air than the humidity outside weighing down your shoulders, making the words stick in the back of your throat as you try to navigate the close proximity to Steve. Neither one of you is sure of what to say first, and the sound of Eddie and Robin laughing outside filling the silence between you somehow makes it worse. 

The weed twists the knots in your stomach tighter, and the cedar that always seems to linger whenever he’s around turns suffocating without an escape. You lean against the sink across from him while he digs through the icebox in the fridge. Shoulder blades moving with the motions of his wrist, plastic crinkling loudly every time he moves a bag out of the way. Muttering to himself, you watch goosebumps rise on his tan skin from the cool air, muscles twitching from the shock.

This was a mistake. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you tear your eyes away in hopes it will stop the dull ache between your legs from getting worse when you’re brought back to the way those same arms caged you in while his hips pushed you deeper into the mattress in your dreams last night. Looking out the small window at the beginning flames of the bonfire, a shaky breath pushes past your glossed lips, and you wipe your palms on your skirt before turning around to wash your hands.

”You don’t have to help, you know?” His voice comes out just loud enough for you to hear over the running water, the small smacking sound of the fridge closing behind it, “If you’re that uncomfortable, I can do it.”

Cutting the water, you shake your hands in the sink before tearing off a paper towel from the roll next to you. Working up enough courage to finally turn around to look at him, you finish drying your hands with a softer expression.

”No, I can help.” 

He holds your stare, silently giving you another out while his fingers make quick work of unwrapping a head of lettuce, an onion, and a few peppers from their plastic confines. No matter how much you want to look away, you don’t, standing firm in your choice despite everything inside of you screaming to run away, and it’s enough for him to nod his head. The slight twitch of his lips while he rolls the bags in his hands doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I just need you to cut the onion into thin slices for the burgers, and same with the jalapeños.” He instructs, turning his back to you to throw away the wrappings. 

The sudden movement has the deep cut sleeves of his shirt fluttering open, giving you a glimpse of the thick patch of hair on his chest, and how it tapers off and down past his belly button. Your thighs find each other again, and you look up to the ceiling silently, trying to regain all the strength you thought you’d just found. 

“And the lettuce - uhh, are you okay?” Steve’s confusion makes all the blood in your body rush to the apples of your cheeks as you try to hide your internal struggle with a smile.

“Yeah, we’re good. Never been better. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you ramble, brushing past him to the station he’s set up for you.

“…Right,” he starts with a pause before choosing to leave it alone, “I just need you to kind of rip the lettuce up, you can cut it if you want but I think bigger pieces would be better.”

You aren’t expecting his voice to come from right behind you, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against the back of your neck. Your own goosebumps rise, dotting across exposed skin and you hope he doesn’t notice but the way he lingers in your space for a little longer despite the nod of your head makes you think otherwise. The spice of his cologne grows faint along with his footsteps against the tile floor, finding a home on the other side of the kitchen, busying himself with what he had started before.

Eddie turns on the radio, easing some of the tension from your muscles, and relaxing your shoulders as you get a good grip on the handle of the knife.

You could do this, easy. 

You really start to believe it too when you cut all the jalapeños, even humming along to an old Judas Priest song that you and Eddie used to blast in his van after school. Peeling the onion, you pretend that you don’t see the reflection of Steve staring at you from the glass of the microwave as you sway your hips and bop your head to the beat.

“So, New York huh?” He finally breaks, and your eyes flutter to the reflection to see him putting away all the spices he’d pulled out while you were smoking. “You likin’ it?”

Your movements freeze for a second, and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth with all the things you’ve dreamed of saying to him. Years of coming up with all the ways you’d tell him how much better you were without him. A recurring fantasy of a ten year reunion where you’d show up with your famous screenwriter husband you’d met on the Subway, turning your nose at him and whatever Hawkin’s girl he’d managed to knock up. But instead, the universe has you here five years too early, and Steve isn’t the same guy you’d left even if you don’t quite trust it yet.

Picking up the knife again, you roll your shoulders with a quiet breath before cutting into the onion once more as you search for the words to answer.

“Yeah, I like it. It’s big and it can be a little scary sometimes but I can be myself there,” it comes out a little quieter than intended but you still twist your hips to meet his gaze from across the kitchen where he stands with crossed arms giving you his full attention. “No one really cares what you do.”

“Who are you trying to be out there?” He asks like he has no idea what small talk is, the greens in his eyes shimmering against the last bit of sunlight that shines on his face.

“Someone stronger than who I was in high school,” you whisper, turning back around to focus on the task at hand and not your ex trying to dig into the depths of your soul while you cut onions.

“You were always the strongest person I knew,” he counters, and you can practically hear the shrug that you know follows his words.

”You certainly liked to test it.” 

It comes out before you can bite your tongue, your knife slicing right into the center of the onion and hitting the cutting board roughly, adding dramatic effect.

”Ouch,” he hums with a small laugh, silverware clanking against the metal of the sink behind you as he finishes cleaning up his mess, “I guess I deserved that one.”

“Steve.” You stop cutting, dropping the knife to look at him, unintentionally swiping your eye in the process, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I promised Rob- oh fuck!”

The burning in your right eye becomes unbearable, the tears spilling freely down your cheek blurring your vision with a harsh sting.

”Oh, oh no. Did you touch your eye?!” Steve sounds panicked, sneakers scuffling against the tile as he hurries to grab a washcloth from the drawer. 

“It was an accident!” You whine, closing your eyes as tight as you can, willing the burning tears to stop, the sound of water running from the sink filling your ears, “God it hurts so bad, Steve.”

”I know baby, I know,” he coos in a soothing voice, and in your panic you almost don’t catch the old nickname that slips off his tongue with ease. Long fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to him, “Let me see, stay still.”

The coolness of the rag provides instant relief when he presses it gently to your eye. Taking a deep breath, you feel the warmth of his palm rub up and down your arm soothing your irritated nerves more. The sting doesn’t fully go away, but it subsides enough for the tears to slow down as he applies a little more pressure before removing it to wet it again. Blinking past the burning, you finally realize just how close you are to him now. 

Chests practically touching, you can see the beginnings of stubble lining his jaw despite being able to tell that he shaved today. The vampire bites on his neck that used to be your favorite to kiss taunt you for what feels like the millionth time this week. With cedar and musk filling your lungs, it feels impossible to breathe.

He cuts off the water, turning towards you again, and you aren’t prepared for the depth in his eyes meeting yours from this distance. They’re soft when they look at you, the chestnut inside them warming gold as you stare back at him a little dazed. Calloused fingertips stop their path up your arm to gently grab your chin, tilting your face up to his so he can get a better look at the damage. He’s sweet with the way moves your head around, the pad of his thumb smoothing the skin under your irritated eye.

”I think you’ll be okay, I don’t see any seeds or anything trapped inside,” he whispers, thumb never stopping its movements while his gaze flicks down to your lips that pout on their own, something electric charging in the air.

The sliding glass door opens behind him before you can answer, Robin and Eddie making their presence known in a loud burst of energy. Snatching the wet rag from his hand, you’re quick to put distance between you. Placing the cool cloth against your face, you make your way out of the kitchen before anyone can ask you anything about what happened. Muttering a “thanks Steve '' on your way to assess just how ruined your makeup is in the bathroom. 

Your heart pounds in your ears feeling the ghost of his touch everywhere, chest tightening because your body won’t stop screaming for more.

You stay in the bathroom long enough for the burning to subside, mumbling words that resemble some kind of pep talk while scrubbing your hands. Fingers that still shake with nerves fix your smudged mascara, listening for the moment their voices go quiet behind the sliding glass door before you decide to finally venture out. The sound of Steve’s laugh catches in your ears, as you make your way through the empty trailer, the corners of your lips curling on their own as you tug on the handle that separates you from them. The humidity is quick to turn your skin sticky despite the sun disappearing behind the trees. 

”There she is! I heard Harrington tried to blind you,” Eddie chuckles from his place crouched in front of the fire. A half smoked cigarette dangling lazily from the side of his mouth as he ‘stokes’ the flames, the crackling wood competing with the buzz of the cicadas that surround you.

”Riddle me this, Steve, why is it that whenever someone ’helps’ you cook, they end up in the hospital or worse, almost BLIND!” 

From her spot sitting on one of the many faded red plastic lawn chairs they have circled around the pit, Robin doesn’t hesitate to turn it into a dog pile with dramatics that could rival an Oscar winning actress.

Steve rolls his eyes, the warm light from the smaller flame of the grill glowing underneath him, highlighting his sharp features. His gaze meets yours, ignoring his friends, and you swear even from here, you can see the green inside each eye shine. You know there’s a million questions he wants to ask but there’s only one that comes out, and it’s soft just like the way he touched you inside.

”Are you okay?”

It’s hard for you to look anywhere but his face, remembering just how pretty it was up close. Your eyes trace the straight line of his nose, and the curve of his full bottom lip before finally meeting his eyes. The small smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth reminds you that you haven’t answered him yet but he doesn’t say anything. He lets Robin’s low whistle do all the talking.

”Uhh, yeah, I’m good. Crisis averted,” you mumble, snapping out of it, cheeks warming up enough to compete with the fire pit you stumble around, landing in the seat next to your best friend. “No jalapenos on mine, I think I’ve had enough for today.”

Steve laughs again, just like the one you heard on your way out and the sound burrows in your heart, making it swell, giddiness roiling deep in your gut. You ignore Robin’s obnoxious toothy grin next to you, doubling down even more when she starts to wiggle her eyebrows. The two beer cans at her feet tell you everything you need to know.

Without a cloud in an almost completely dark sky, you start to see the twinkling of the stars you’ll always miss begin to appear. They battle for your attention against the fireflies that flicker through the tall grass and into the woods. Lighter fluid stings your nose when Steve squirts more onto the burning coals, switching from hot dogs to burgers like he’s been grilling for a family of four his whole life.

A couple of beers calm your nerves that threaten to give you away, watching Steve in his element like this, the holes cut in his shirt showing off every flex of his muscles as he flips the patties. Cheese melting over the burger meat, just like your body that sinks further into the lawn chair that sticks to the backs of your thighs. He throws you a knowing look, making you clear your throat. Straightening your posture, you try to join in Robin and Eddie’s conversation like you hadn’t just been caught. Taking another long swig of the bitter semi cold liquid, you hope it’s enough to get you through dinner.

It’s not.

Steve takes the seat across from you when he’s finished cooking, manspreading with his paper plate in his lap. You fight the urge to look at the tan line of his inner thighs that are revealed by his loose fitting shorts, laughing a little too loud at Eddie’s jokes, desperate to keep your struggle hidden. Even going as far as acting interested when Robin starts talking about her reasons why she likes to buy certain things from the three different grocery stores in town. 

It’s when a dribble of ketchup lands on top of Steve's hand after a large bite that you lose your cool. Right between his thumb and index finger, he hums with cheeks full of food before those full lips of his wrap around the spilled sauce, cleaning it with a flick of his tongue.

”I’m gonna throw my plate away, is anyone else done?” You squeak, standing up abruptly, your chair nearly falling backwards in the process. 

“Jesus, easy tiger,” Eddie snorts, finishing off the last of his beer before crushing the tin can in his hand, tossing it on his empty plate, “The trash isn’t going anywhere.”

“Just trying to be a good house guest is all,” you lie, making Eddie quirk an eyebrow, the dimples in his cheeks coming out to play again.

”Uh huh.” He smirks before handing you his plate that Robin quickly piles hers on top of. “Sure.”

”That’s very sweet of you,” Steve chimes in, with a lopsided grin on his face that makes you want to punch the air and get out of here. 

“She’s pure class Harrington, get it right,” Robin comes for the save with a knowing wink that only makes the heat growing in your cheeks worse.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble quickly turning on your heel, feeling all their eyes on you as you make your way to the back door of the trailer.

”Hurry back. We're gonna play Never Have I Ever,” your best friend calls out over her shoulder making you wish you could just stay inside when the sliding glass door closes behind you.

Embers spark and pop from the fire before they disappear into the night sky, the full moon’s white glow stopping just along the dark edges of the trees that surround the backyard. The four of you sit around the pit with fresh beers in hand. The buzz of the alcohol turning Steve’s gaze heavy as he stares at you from across the flickering flames. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look everywhere but his direction, and hope he doesn’t see the way your thighs press under the heat of it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea Robin?” Eddie whispers, big brown eyes glancing between the both of you, and your bouncing knee.

”It’s fine, they’ll be fine. Right guys?” She waves the metal head off, nudging you with her elbow, completely unphased.

”Of course we’ll be fine, why wouldn’t we be fine?” You snap, tugging the bottom of your skirt down, all the built up tension turning into aggression. Steve smiles into his next gulp.

“Whoa, whoa. I was just asking, but you do seem a little tense.” She raises her hands in surrender, both her eyebrows disappearing behind her shaggy bangs while Eddie distracts himself by poking the fire.

“Relax, it’s just a game,” Steve sighs, settling deeper in his chair, the warm amber in the flames bouncing off the mischievous gold in his eyes that keep their hold on you. “Besides, we’re friends now, right?”

Your gaze narrows, the grip on your beer tightening enough to hear the pop of the metal.“Yep,” you manage to get out, shooting Eddie a glare when he snorts.

“If you guys say so,” he starts, ignoring your scowl while getting cut off by Robin who’s practically vibrating in her seat now.

”Let’s have fun already. I’ll start.” Robin shushes him before acting like she’s deep in thought, turning to face you with the kind of grin on her face that tells you she’s up to no good, “Never have I ever…let some Wall Street douchebag go down on me in the backseat of his Rolls Royce.”

“That’s weirdly specific- oh wait! Damn! Princess!” Eddie whoops when you take a swig with a roll of your eyes, flipping Robin the bird. 

“Gotta try everything once, right?” You shrug, holding his gaze with a smirk, not even trying to hide that you’re taking great pleasure in the way Steve’s jaw clenches at the new found information of your life outside of here. “He had a nice mouth when he wasn’t using it for talking.”

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, the mossy greens in his eyes turning dark as you lean back in your chair smugly.

“She’s a wild one, I’ll tell ya,” Robin giggles fondly, passing the baton to you with a proud smile.

Maybe it was the beer or the incessant way Steve’s presence drove you to the brink of insanity by rageful lust. Or even just the way he sat across from you with his legs spread wide like he ruled the world, whatever it was, that's what’s to blame for the question that rolls off your tongue.

“Never have I ever taken someone’s virginity.”

Robin’s jaw drops, guffawing with a harsh slap on your leg, mouthing a ‘you said you’d be nice’ but the buzz of the alcohol keeps a lopsided grin on her face. Eddie drinks, nervously watching the staring contest going on between you and Steve. Like a dog and its owner trying to establish dominance, both of you refuse to be the one who looks away first. Taking two gulps for good measure, he smacks his lips loudly when he’s done, wiping the foam off his upper lip with the back of his wrist. Raising his eyebrows at you in a silent challenge.

“This isn’t awkward at all,” Eddie grumbles, taking another sip of his beer to help the uncomfortable tension that threatens to settle over the circle.

”Who’s next? Who's next?” Robin urges with a flick on your knee, forcing you to fold and give her your attention with a blink of your eyes and it feels like the first time in hours that you finally look at someone other than Steve. 

Your teeth clench, grinding at the thought that even after all this time he’s still got this kind of hold on you, and it has you riding the thin line between wanting to give him a black eye or have him take you for a spin in his beemer for old times sake. 

“Eddie,” raising your can in his direction, he meets you in the middle with a cheers that doesn’t quite touch before slinking back in his chair with an exhausted huff.

“Hmmm, what do I want to reveal about myself?” He hums deep in thought, metal rings clinking against tin in a familiar tune as he taps his fingers around his beer can, “Never have I ever… been in a threesome, despite being titled ‘freak’ of Hawkins.”

“Really?” Robin seems genuinely shocked, making you giggle.

“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy to me too.” Eddie shrugs, with a knowing grin that doesn’t quite sit right in your gut.

That’s when you see it. Steve taking a drink.

”WHAT?!” Your best friend squeals practically jumping from her seat, clearly something that's not common knowledge being revealed.

Jealousy is an ugly monster, and it finds a home deep inside your chest tonight, turning you green with it. Your half empty beer can crunches the more your fingers dig into the tin, eyes narrowing when he just responds to Robin with a coy smirk and a shrug bringing his attention back to you.

”Gotta try everything once right?” Steve mocks, full pink lips curling up at the corners as he takes another sip.

Your heart sinks with your stomach, the muscles in your face doing the same before you have a chance to stop it. Visions of red nails and pink lips that don’t belong to you dance through your head, and the smug smirk he probably wore while his big hands gripped their hips taking turns making them moan his name. The sound of your can completely collapsing in a loud crunch gets everyone’s attention, and you ignore the softened expression on Steve’s face trying to capture your gaze again. Eddie clears his throat, throwing you a life line before opening a new can of beer with a suggestion you’ve never been more grateful for.

”Alright Steve, your turn.” 

Steve nods with a tight lipped smile taking one last glance in your direction before sitting up in his chair with an idea that makes his cheeks push up and his eyes sparkle against the light of the fire. “Alright, never have I ever pretended to not only have a driver's license but also own a car that actually belongs to my best friend so I can hook up with a girl in the backseat.”

A quiet sigh escapes your lungs, shoulders relaxing just a little when Robin groans loudly at the attack that’s clearly focused on her. Oblivious to the fact that you’re hanging on by a thread next to her, you stare fixed on the way the flames lick up into the night. 

“Look, she was a college senior, okay? I was only a sophomore and she was way cooler than me. Judge me all you want, but it worked didn’t it?” She argues, lifting her beer to the sky before taking a sip proudly. “No regrets!”

Her smile is contagious, easing some of the tension when you and Eddie giggle meeting each other's eyes from across her honey blond waves. You can feel Steve’s stare burning a hole in the side of your head, the heat of it in direct competition with the fire that thrives off the light breeze that rustles through the trees. 

“Aright, alright, never have I ever faked getting off.” She wiggles her eyebrows with a toothy grin, looking at Eddie specifically who gives her a dead stare in response, clearly something told to her in confidence. 

Biting your lip, you really weren’t going to add more fuel to the fire but when you finally meet Steve’s eyes that have been begging for your attention this whole time, you can’t help but douse the flames with the whole can of gasoline. Another flash of different shades of lipstick staining the freckles you loved to kiss so much sending another wave of rage down to your core.

”I can think of a few times.” You snort loudly, holding his gaze and pointedly stealing everyone else's attention before polishing off the last of your crumpled can.

Steve’s jaw clenches hard enough that you swear you can hear his teeth crunch together. Nostrils flaring with a gaze so dark it threatens to swallow you whole, all traces of honey and warmth gone, leaving you chilled to the bone.

”I think we’re done with this game Robin,” he grunts, standing up with a kick of his chair and for once his eyes don’t search for yours as he stomps across the yard towards the yellow light of the trailer. 

“Seriously!” Your best friend groans, slinking back in her chair with a hand running down her face, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

”Yeah, genius! I told you, but nooo, you didn’t want to listen to me.” Eddie scoffs into his beer can, using his free hand to poke at the fire.

”Can you go, like, talk to him or something?” Robin turns to you with an almost pleading look that gets more prominent the more your face turns sour.

“Me?! I have to go talk to him? Seriously? He’s the one who stormed off,” you argue, crossing your arms.

”Yeah, well you clearly hurt his feelings.” She points at his pacing figure through the kitchen window and it takes everything inside of you not to tell her that he hurt yours first.

The two of you stare each other down, the wills of stubbornness at battle until her eyes go soft, big and glassy. 

“Please,” she begs, pulling out the big guns, and jutting out her bottom lip.

You hold her gaze for a few more seconds before surrendering with a roll of your eyes, huffing loudly when you uncross your arms to stand up, making her face light back up.

”I hate you. More than anything.”

Eddie cackles loudly at your lie, digging in his front pocket for a smushed pack of cigarettes.

“We all know you don’t mean that,” she hums with a content smile, leaning over to snatch the freshly lit tobacco from the metalhead’s mouth, waving at you as you start to follow Steve’s path up to the trailer. “Please don’t kill him!”

Closing the sliding glass door behind you, a shiver runs up your spine when the coolness of the air conditioning hits your sticky skin. The sound of running water catches in your ears from the kitchen along with the murmur of his voice under its rush.You can’t quite make out what he’s saying to himself, even when you reach the doorway. 

Hunched over the sink, his shoulder blades flex with every harsh scrub of the pan. His hat rests on the counter, and you can’t help but notice the wild way his hair sits on the top of his head from wearing it all day, sun kissed tips curling from the humidity. Clearing your throat just loud enough to alert him of your presence, you watch the way his whole body goes rigid. It only lasts for a moment before he recovers, shutting off the water with a lazy slap of his hand. Turning around he grabs the dish towel next to him to dry off, meeting your gaze with a little more color in his eyes, flecks of gold trying to shimmer in a raging storm.

Having his full attention on you, alone like this, is enough for your tongue to go numb. The back of your throat turns into sandpaper, making it impossible for words to find their way out. A big hand runs through his hair, fingers getting caught on a knot at the end that he works out with ease, a gentle sigh deflating his defensive chest just a little before he speaks.

“Hey.” 

Anger still boils under all of the attraction, along with the jealousy you aren’t willing to acknowledge.You aren’t ready. You can’t do this yet.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” you excuse yourself, turning on your heel and leaving just as quickly as you arrived.

You ignore the way he calls after you, seeking solace in the place that's become your hiding spot for the night. Fingers wrap around the handle to the familiar room, you stop in your tracks when a warm patch of light leaking out from a crack in a door that wasn’t opened before catches your attention. 

You can smell the cedar from here.

Glancing over your shoulder to see if he followed you, it changes the course of your direction when you discover that he didn’t. Taking a few steps across the hallway, you’re careful not to let the hinges creak when you push his bedroom door open a little more. Your senses quickly become overwhelmed with everything that makes Steve, Steve. You throw another cautious look down the hallway before crossing the invisible line. Closing the door like how you found it, you let your curiosity get the best of you. 

It’s cleaner than you thought it’d be now that he doesn’t live inside the Harrington’s massive house anymore. His bed is bigger, the twin sized mattress that you used to squeeze into traded in for a queen. The navy blue comforter that looks soft to the touch is laid out messy on white sheets, a digital clock with glaring red numbers that read 10:30 pm on the nightstand next to it. 

The carpet under your feet is a heather gray, and you can tell that it’s scratchy even with your shoes on. Patrick Swayze watches your every move from the Roadhouse poster hanging on his wall, the floor creaking as you make your way toward the small work desk in the corner. Your eyes linger on the impressive way all his dirty clothes manage to be in his hamper before they find the framed pictures spread over his desk. 

There’s one of him with the middle school boy you knew as Dustin Henderson perched on his back, only he looks much older than you remembered. The curls still give him away despite the braces free smile. Both of them grin hard enough for their eyes to crinkle in the corners like they had finally stopped laughing long enough for someone to snap this picture. 

You fight back the way your cheeks threaten to push up, not surprised to find one of him and Robin at what looks like Lover’s Lake, both of them striking the same pose with inflatable tubes around their waists wearing matching bucket hats and sunglasses.

The guy in these photos doesn’t seem anything like the one you remember and it’s hard for you to wrap your head around it. They look the same.

”I don’t think this is the bathroom, do you?” Steve’s voice makes you jump, heart stopping in your chest for a split second before you meet his questioning stare with a guilty face of your own. 

His arms are crossed over his chest as leans against the door frame, unintentionally pulling the collar of his shirt down giving you a glimpse of the patch of hair and the gold chain underneath. The softness in his eyes from the kitchen is gone as he stares you down, it’s replaced with something you can’t quite put your finger on but the intensity of it raking over your body has your thighs meeting for what feels like the millionth time tonight. His full pink lips twist into a sarcastic smirk as he pushes off the wood, taking the next few steps into his room.

”Did you really mean what you said out there?” He questions, dark eyes sparkling the more you squirm under the heat of them.

”Mean what? I said a lot of things out there. We all did.” Narrowing your gaze, you try to take back some semblance of control, squaring up your shoulders at him but the dark chuckle you get in response tells you it’s a futile attempt.

“I didn’t say anything about you specifically though, did I?” Steve counters, stopping just a few feet away from you, tongue poking at the side of his cheek, “No, I don’t think I did.”

He hums, uncrossing his arms to mimic your stance in a silent challenge, eyebrows raised waiting on your response.

”I didn’t say anything about you specifically either.” Jutting out your chin in defiance, it's your turn to cross your arms now. Maturity at its finest.

He doesn’t answer you, instead he holds your eyes with his own and it takes everything inside of you not to look away. Your tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he starts to take a few steps closer, broad shoulders making the room feel small when the toes of his sneakers meet yours.

“I don’t think you ever faked anything with me.” He looks down his nose at you, smelling like summer nights and everything you’ve tried to forget.

”You think or you know?” Cocking a brow with a shit eating grin that tells him you aren’t going to fold easy, the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his desk. 

He sucks at his teeth, rolling his shoulders with the kind of laugh that makes the dull ache between your legs turn into a throb.

“I know. Trust me.” He smirks, gaze lingering where the soft dough of your thighs meet before finding your eyes again, “Guess what else I know?”

It's hard for you to catch your breath when he looks at you like this and you wonder if he notices the quick heaves of your chest or the way your eyes glaze over from being this close to him.

”W-what?” Your stutter gives you away, but at least you tried to fight one last time before he went in for the kill.

The whites of his teeth show in the kind of smile that tells you he was hoping you’d ask just that. Leaning in, his palms land on his desk finding purchase on either side of your hips, caging you in. He’s close enough for the tip of his nose to brush against yours, close enough to smell the wheat from his beer on the warm breath that fans against your lips. 

“You wouldn’t still look at me the way you do, if I hadn’t made you feel good honey. And you know what else?” 

His voice goes deep as he whispers, nose nudging at your cheek before his lips hover right by your ear making you shiver, goosebumps making their second appearance of the day. Your hands find the edge of his desk, chest brushing against his in a deep breath feeling the slightest touch of his lips against the soft spot right behind it.  

“I know I can make you cum harder with my tongue than some Wall Street asshole, who doesn’t even know what to do under the hood of that fancy car he spent so much money on.” His grip on the desk tightens at the thought, wood groaning under the stress of it and it has your thighs spreading for him on their own.

“Steve -”

His fingers grab your chin like at the shop with just a firm enough hold for you to pull away if you want to but you can’t bring yourself to do it when his eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You wonder if it's just a mirror reflection of your own as he takes some of the new space you’ve given him, so close now that you can feel the heat of his body where yours screams for him most. His brows furrow when your noses brush and he swears he can taste the watermelon of your lip gloss, and then he knows he can when he feels your fingers curl into his shirt tugging him closer.

“I think,” he breathes into your mouth, hesitating just enough to soak it in a second longer before pulling away with an almost pained expression that he quickly tries to cover up, “I think it’s time for me to take you and Robin home.”

He steps back and out of your space, a nervous hand running through his hair like he did something he wasn’t supposed to do. His eyes meet yours again and there's something apologetic that swirls in the deep forest that watches you tug your skirt down straightening up.

”I’ll uh, I’ll give you a minute while I go wrangle Robin.” 

He takes one last look at you like he really needs to be sure of something before finally walking out and leaving you alone to wonder how the night ended with you here. Skirt rucked up, trying to catch your breath in Steve Harrington’s room.

———-

🌻 beta’d by @superblysubpar