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doomspaniels · 4 years
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tagged by: @twoweirdmutts and @spartansandkrakens thank you 💓
rules: tag people you’d like to get to know better!
favorite color(s): There's a reason all the backgrounds of the Spaniel pics are burgundy 😅 with occasionally a bit of navy or grey.
last song I listened to: "She Walks on Fire" by Royal Crown Revue
favorite musicians: Queen, Johnny Cash, Garbage
last movie I watched: Ah... did an Avengers or Star Wars come out last? (it takes a ton of pain meds to make it through a movie in one sitting, so it doesn't happen often)
last tv show I watched: Still working through Avatar--that same motion/migraine thing, though clear bright animation is *much* easier--and I want to have WORDS with everyone who didn't adequately warn me about the Sad Appa Episode.
favorite original character: I... think my only OC is probably the Outlaw Villain. Congratulations, Tristan.
sweet, spicy, or savory: Sweet, then savory, or both. I am an absolute spice wimp.
sparkling water, tea, or coffee: Tea. Carbonation makes me sick and coffee is a LIE. It smells deliious but tastes like bitter dirt.
pets: Yvaine (health disaster cocker spaniel), Tristan (mischief demon cocker spaniel), old lady mare Kat (OTTB), Kat's daughter Firefly (IDSH), Kat's adopted daughter Serenity (Perchybred)
tagging: (tumblr keeps losing my place, pardon me if these are repeats) @jakemyboy @shepherdnerd @smalltownweenies @wasatchmountaindogs @thebrittanybrigade @thespringertails @thelittlespanielthatcould
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ayellowcurtain · 4 years
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Is it possible that you write a fic where Robbe is feeling a bit frustrated as Sander found new friends at school, and he spends a lot more times with them now, maybe too much as he starts getting late at some of their dates? Bonus point if one of his friends doesn't like robbe that much and Robbe knows it?
Part 1 -  hint of dirty talking, but it’s really a hint, if you blink you might miss it 
It’s been five days. Yeah, Robbe is actually doing a countdown. He doesn’t really have to, based on the number of times he checks his phone to see the day and the amount of time he goes to Sander’s Instagram or their conversation.
He’s been trying to be patient and understands he brought this upon himself, but it doesn’t make it less painful. The cold shoulder behavior he’s been receiving for the past...well, five days. Robbe is ignoring all of it, still texting Sander all day long like he would if they were talking.
to Sander: I think I got a good grade on today’s test. I hope I did, don’t feel like studying anymore.
Hope you’re having fun <3 I miss you
You would laugh at me if you were seeing this. I tried making that pasta you taught me. I mean...it’s eatable so that’s good?
My mom said it’s delicious and for me to thank you for teaching the recipe. But she’s my mom so I can’t take her word for it, I think it turned out okay
He stares at his screen, bitting the corner of his bottom lip, his arms a little tired from being up in the air, holding his phone for so long, rereading the messages he sent today. He types the last one for the night.
to Sander: I’m going to bed now, wishing you were with me. I love you <3
And he puts his phone on airplane mode, checking his alarm for the next morning before putting his phone down on the nightstand, far away enough that he can’t reach easily if he decides to text Sander in the middle of the night, asking to talk just to be ignored one more time.
He hasn’t been sleeping well, starting to worry the second he puts his head on his pillow every night, overthinking everything he said, afraid his words were enough to make Sander change his mind and break up.
He has a few more tests, and some assignments to give to his teachers, but in every free minute that he has, Robbe is checking his phone, knowing what he’ll find: his messages with no answer. Sometimes Sander will at least read them, but he never answers properly. He likes Robbe’s messages or sends a few emojis that can have so many interpretations.
The school is his main focus during the weekdays, his only way to worry about something else other than his relationship, but he does everything automatically not needing to use much of his brain: wakes up, eats breakfast with his mom, goes to school, does whatever test he has, leaves his assignments, watches classes, gets on his bike and goes home.
He doesn’t feel like skating and spending his time with the boys these days. It’s stupid, but he gets even angrier if he remembers what Sander said and his reaction. So he decides to leave Aaron, Moyo, and Jens be for now.  
Robbe moves to his side under the sheets, opening Instagram again. It’s Friday night, finally, and Jens insisted on him to go with them to this new bar close to his place, but Robbe was tired after so many tests and he wanted to be alone. Or with Sander, but that he couldn’t do.
Sander posted a piece of art earlier and tagged some of his friends in it. Robbe opens every one of the links in hopes to find a story or a picture with his boyfriend in it. He leaves the worst one for last. And of course, that’s where he finds something.
Adi posted a bunch of videos during the whole afternoon. Robbe rewatches them more times than he should, just to hear his boyfriend’s voice or to see his blurry smile when Adi films him looking at some art, his favorite camera under his arm and around his neck, laughing over his shoulder to look at Adi when he’s making fun of how Sander would rather look at more art in their free time instead of going out for some drinks.
Robbe didn’t know Sander’s friends were going and he can’t stop himself from wondering why they could go and that wasn’t even offered to him. He stops before he can start disliking Adi even more for no reason other than the boy is not his fan either. He opens the stories again and tries to take a screenshot of Sander’s smile, his messy hair that’s needing a haircut if Sander’s words are something to go by.
Robbe keeps his opinions to himself for four more days, trying not to let Adi get under his skin with all the stories, all about Sander. Or the pictures he posts of all of them at a bar late at night, smiling from ear to ear. He knows part of all these posts is to annoy him. That’s what Adi does, he doesn’t like Robbe and he’ll make sure to piss him off whenever he can. Showing off how Sander is having fun with him and the boys.
to Sander: ’m happy to s you and Adi aer having fun. Hope he wont maaAke you hate me:)
Robbe texts his boyfriend on the tenth night when he’s drunk after going out with the boys because they wouldn’t let him go home yet again. He’s struggling to change to go to bed, wishing he had warmer, stronger hands to help him with that. Robbe won’t get an answer and he’ll be hungover the next morning so he turns his phone off and passes out on his bed.
It feels like he blinked his eyes and when he opens, his mom is carefully putting a big bottle of water on his nightstand and leaving him be for a little longer. Robbe lifts his arm, feeling it so heavy and tired, but he manages to grab the bottle, turn to his side and drink half of it, hoping it’ll help.
He can’t put it back on the nightstand so he leaves the water on the floor and falls asleep again. Using his hand to cover his eyes, wanting to cry and call Sander to break things up already if that’s why he’s trying to do with this stupid silence.
His phone lightens the room suddenly and Robbe opens his eyes, trying to understand where the light is coming from. He looks around himself, everything is exactly as messy as he left it so he puts his head down, staring at his phone until the light fades back to black. He stretches his phone and finds it, letting his arm fall back on the mattress with the phone. His eyes are fighting to close again, but Robbe presses his fingers on the sides of his phone to see what’s going on.
earthlingoddity tagged you in a photo
That’s unexpected, but Robbe clicks on the notification, rubbing his eyes with his other hand to wake up enough to see what he posted.
He clicks on Sander’s username, opening his feed to make sure he saw it right. A picture of him that Sander took and never showed him. He can post a picture of Robbe, but not reply to his messages.
It’s ridiculous how fast his half-asleep, deprived of touch body responds to the caption Sander wrote underneath the picture.
I keep my visions to myself
It's only me who wants to
Wrap around your dreams and
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?
Robbe lies on his back, reading the caption a few times. It’s not even that sexual, but it feels like it. He opens their conversation, still no new message from Sander so he closes it again, opening the camera. Looking at himself, the sheets falling closely around his legs, Robbe thinks about being stupid and reckless and desperate .
Maybe that will make Sander reply to him for once. Letting his rush of adrenaline take over, Robbe lifts the sheets, looking at the door to make sure it’s closed. He’s harder than he anticipated which is a little embarrassing considering that absolutely nothing happened, but fuck it. He takes the picture of his naked torso, his shirt rolling on his chest from him probably moving too much while asleep, his lean, way too skinny legs, and his grey underwear.
to Sander: you can’t write things like that
And he sends before he can think about it. It’s been a while since they did this. Exchanging photos, but Robbe waits, keeping his phone unlocked. Sander sees the photo right away, but there are no bubbles indicating an answer.
Robbe lets himself wait for five minutes. Sander liked the photo, but didn’t answer, didn’t send a text. Just like the universe is trying to send a clear message, when his phone hits 12:45, it turns black.
“Shit…” Robbe slams his phone against the mattress, hating himself for being so stupid and needy.
Sander really left him on read after that photo.
Robbe rushes out of his bedroom, clicking on the screen a bunch of times to make sure he’s completely out of battery. His mom doesn’t know his password either so he’s not risking her seeing what he just sent to Sander.
“Mom?” He finds her in the living room, soft music playing in the background, everything is off the floor so she can clean it.
“Yes?” She stops her dance party while mopping the floor, turning around to look at him.
“Can you do me a favor?” Robbe keeps pinching the inside of his cheek with his teeth, the embarrassment still filling his every thought like his mom can see in his face what he did five minutes ago.
“Of course. What do you need?”
“I need you to keep my phone hostage for the next 24 hours.” He offers his phone to her, trying not to worry. It’s just 24 hours and Sander hasn’t replied to him in days, it’s not like he’ll miss much if he keeps his distance from his phone for a whole day. She frowns, but smiles softly, holding his phone carefully.
“Okay…” Robbe smiles at her, and she looks at the black screen, “Can I ask why?”
Robbe tilts his head, looking around, not knowing what to say, “I just have some important things to do for school and so I need to focus.”
She doesn’t believe him, keeps staring like she’s waiting for him to tell the truth, but he doesn’t want to and she doesn’t ask either, putting his phone inside her pocket.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, sweetie. If you need anything, just ask.” She says and he nods his head, thinking about making them lunch as a thank you, trying to keep his mind away from Sander and how unfair he's being.
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wkemeup · 5 years
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Do Becca and Bucky become close again? Like texting and talking? I can see Becca requesting to follow Bucky and reader on Instagram or something and Bucky being so happy
I’m With You - Masterlist
It was a warm day in the city so you decided to meet Bucky down at a coffee shop in Brooklyn near his apartment. He put up a fight at that, always wanting to be the one to travel to you, make things as easy on you as possible, but you were insistent. He was already waiting a table positioned outside under an umbrella, your favorite drink ordered as he was talking to the server.
You waved as you crossed the sidewalk and the moment he caught your eye, his face lit up. He handed the menus back to the server and quickly stood as you approached. His hand slipped against your lower back, pulling you in for a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.
He pulled out the chair for you with a wink and you sat down.
“You order for me again?” you laughed, leaning forward to take in the scent of the coffee and sweet creamer. Your mouth started to water.
Bucky shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Thought you might like it. We can always order another if you--”
“This is perfect, Buck. Thank you,” you smiled at him, taking a sip and fluttering your eyes closed at the taste. He knew you too well for a man you’d only met a month ago.
This became part of your weekend routine. Sunday mornings at local cafes. He’d find time to see you during the week, texting or calling on the nights you couldn’t slip away from work, but he’d made himself indispensable in your life. He was a permanent fixture now and there was no getting out of it, not that you’d ever dreamed of it.
After your coffee was near finished and you were both scrolling through your phones in search of the name of an actor on the tip of your tongue, when you glanced up to find Bucky frozen completely still. He was like a statue, paralyzed, and his eyes were bulging wide.
“Bucky? You okay?” you asked cautiously, setting your phone down gently on the table. He didn’t move, but you saw the clench of his jaw, the muscle twitching under the surface. You reached across the table, touching his hand to try and pull him from his daze, but he barely seemed to notice. “Buck, talk to me.”
He swallowed and turned the phone around to you. It was open to his Instagram requests, a long series of usernames he’d ignored over the years, but it was the one at the top, requested 3 minutes prior that froze him dead in his tracks.
rbarnes98
Rebecca.
“What do I do?” he gaped, his chest starting to rise at a rapid rate. He nearly dropped his phone as he pulled it back to stare down at the screen. “What do I do? Shit. Fuck. What do I do?”
“Buck, calm down,” you eased, quickly standing from your chair and skirting around the side of the table to kneel next to him. You rubbed at his thighs, then grabbed his hands and forced his attention back to you. “She requested me yesterday.”
Bucky paused, eyes narrowed, surprised. “She did?”
You nodded, offering him a smile. “Yup. This is her trying to mend things, Bucky. Let her.”
One quick glance back at his phone and he pushed out a heavy breath through his lips. You stood, brushing a hand through his hair as he grabbed his phone, fumbling with the password before the Instagram page came up again. You stayed over his shoulder, hands running along his scalp, down his arms. He needed the physical touch, you’d learned, to calm him down.
His thumb hovered over ‘accept’ for a minute before he closed his eyes and tapped the screen. You leaned down and kissed the crown of his head.
“Okay,” he sighed, nodding to himself. “Okay, yeah. I’ve got this. Now what?”
You laughed, scooting your chair around to sit next to him. He seemed to be more relieved at that. “Now, you can see what she posts. You can follow her back, you know?”
“What?”
“Buck, when is the last time you used Instagram?” you giggled, leaning onto his shoulder.
“Don’t think I have,” he replied in a short chuckle. He was looking down at his phone, scrolling through the images of years he’d missed. His right hand snaked around your thighs, tugging you closer and you watched as he clicked through the pictures.
“Oh wow, look at that one,” you pointed to the one of her and Bucky’s mother sitting on the porch steps of their home in Atlanta. It must have been around the time they’d closed on the house. Bucky smiled and continued scrolling.
He paused on one of two small children.
“Is that you?” you asked, zooming in on the little boy with big blue eyes in a sailor costume and chocolate sauce covering half of his mouth and splashes of frosting up in his eyebrows. He was holding an infant wrapped in a pink blanket. Rebecca.
“Yeah,” he said, a smile creeping up the sides of his face. “Guess I scrolled back pretty far.”
You glanced down to the date. It was around the time before Bucky enlisted a second time, before the fallout with his sister. The caption said ‘Happy birthday big brother. Thanks for always taken care of me, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself. Big love.’
“That’s really sweet.”
“Wonder if we’ll ever get back to that,” Bucky sighed.
“You’re on the right path, Buck. That's all that matters right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Here,” you offered, picking up his phone and switching to camera mode. You held it up away from your faces and curled up close to Bucky’s side. “Smile for me.”
He didn’t. Instead he pressed a kiss to your cheek, forcing you to laugh. You pushed him away playfully and began to attempt another picture, but Bucky stole the phone from your hand. He opened the photos to find you’d accidently snapped the picture anyway.
“Use that.”
“It’s blurry,” you teased but he wasn’t having it.
“It’s artistic,” he argued with that grin of his you’d come to adore. “You look happy here,” he added sincerely, shyly. “I do, too.”
So, you posted his first picture. Just a series of emojis as a caption because he didn’t want to spend another second dealing with that when he could be kissing you. You had to shove him away before he started drawing the attention of half the city block. The pout he gave you nearly made you cave in then and there.
As you paid the bill and turned to leave, Bucky reached for his phone, a narrowed look on his face. You started to laugh, shaking your head because judging by his expression, you knew what was coming next. You were nearly halfway down the sidewalk before Bucky came sprinting up behind you, grinning and jumping and showing you the notification on his phone.
rbarnes98 liked your photo
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honkhonkrichard · 5 years
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21 with reddie
 21. Best Friends Sibling AU
This got way longer than I thought and I’m calling it ‘Get it right the First Time’ after the billy joel song okay ‘njoy! (WC: 1600+)
“He’s adopted. We all are.” Stan said out of the blue, after dinner. 
“What?” Richie asked.
“Eddie. He’s adopted. So is Ben. Bill is too.” He said again, louder this time. 
“I-I mean.. I guessed.” Richie shrugged. “Cause they’re white and you’re-” Richie threw a hand over at Stan. “Not.” 
“Israeli.” 
“I forgot the word.” 
“clearly.”
“I-I didn’t have to know, dude, it’s not a big deal.” Richie stammered.
“You were staring at Eddie the entire meal.” Stan said loosely, eyes never leaving his book. 
Richie shifted. He was staring at Eddie. How could he not? He was… gorgeous. Big grey eyes, freckled, tan skin, wavy blond hair and the cutest little face. He had a look of perpetual surprise and annoyance, like someone just stole his parking space. 
He sat a the table quietly nearly the whole meal, watching the conversation with curiosity and every now and then, his eyes shifted over to Richie. 
Richie couldn’t take his eyes off of the younger boy. He was so… pretty. The light from the dining room was framing his face this side of perfect, and his sweater was too big and it gave him the sweetest little sweaterpaws- 
“I wasn’t staring at Eddie.” 
Stan’s eyes looked up from his book, sharp and intelligent as usual. “Liar.” 
“So what If I was?” Richie said, probably too defensively. “What’re you gonna do about it?” 
“Give you my blessing.” Stan said from behind his book, light green eyes still locked on Richie. 
“I don’t think I get you, Uris.” Richie lied, because he was quite sure he did. Rich hadn’t been subtle with his idiot grin and enthusiasm with trying to talk to Eddie, who didn’t reciprocate in the slightest.
“I think you do, Tozier.” 
“Stanley?” Someone said from the door. 
Richie looked up to see Eddie clamped around the door frame, sweater paws and cute grumpy surprise in full swing. Turns out he was wearing little shorts too. Richie gulped. 
“Yes Eddie?” Stan said innocently, putting his book down.
Eddie shifted uncomfortably and looked Richie over, the frown in his lips grew. Richie felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” 
“Sure.” Stan blinked, and stood up. He looked considerably older than his siblings, Richie decided, trying not to imagine his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “Rich, you’ll give us a minute?” 
“Course.” 
Stan left the room, and Eddie disappeared with him, leaving Richie alone with himself to think about how much Eddie licking his lips after dinner had drove him crazy. 
I gotta stop. Richie thought, rubbing his face. Gonna go half chub thinking about it too much. He decided to mindlessly fiddle with his bracelets. 
Stan strutted back into the room not longer later, sunk back down into his desk chair, handed Richie a small slip of paper and tucked his hands behind his neck, stretching out like a cat. 
“Get out.” 
Richie’s eyes widened. “Eddie doesn’t like me, does he?” 
Stan shrugged ominously. “It’s me that wants you out.” 
“Rude.” 
“You have a crush on my baby brother.” Stan said simply.
“Baby.” Richie grinned.
“Out please.” 
Richie huffed and grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you tomorrow though yeah?” Stan nodded in response, and Richie left the room, closing the door behind him (He may be a douche but he wasn’t a barbarian.)
Richie silently gazed into the hallway. All the doors were labeled. Ben’s door was closed, Bill’s was half open (Though loud horror movie noises were coming from behind it.) and what Richie assumed was Eddie’s was wide open; the quiet sound of tapping the only sound from it. 
The horror movie paused and Bill swung his door open, eyeing Richie curiously. 
“Sup man?” Richie waved. 
“W-What’re you doing?” Bill asked, voice lower and more angry than it had been at dinner. 
“Uhhhhh I just left Stan cause he kicked me out and then I got lost in thoughts. What’s up with you?” Richie admitted. 
Bill glared him up to down. Richie wasn’t sure why he was angry. They got along fine at dinner, joked about how they had no idea they both worked at the same place (Charlie’s vinyls, Bill had the day shift, Rich took the night shift) and now he was being judged. 
“If you fuck over my brother, I’ll slaughter you.” Bill promised, and then closed the door. 
“What?” Richie mumbled as the horror movie clicked back on. 
Richie made a face and went down the hall, and couldn’t stop himself from peering into Eddie’s room. 
There were lots of knick knacks everywhere, succulents, a big desk and Eddie curled up in his too big sweater, typing away on a laptop. He noticed Richie, clearly looking at him through the corner of his eye (still surprised and annoyed) and took a deep breath, trying to continue typing. 
Richie gave a him a toothy smile. Eddie did not respond. 
“So… Uh… Do you.. like… Did I- Um.” Richie tried. Words weren’t working. 
Eddie sighed and got up from his chair and then-
closed the door. 
Richie snapped some finger guns at the closed door. “Cool.” He said. “Dope I’ll uhhhhh see you later.” 
That night, Richie nodded along to the music blasting through his headphones, and emptied his pockets. Wallet. Phone. Rings he forgot to put on after he washed his hands for dinner. Piece of paper Stan gave him that he never read. Pop can tab. Wait.
Richie picked up the paper and unfolded it. It had a small message written in red pen on it; it looked like it had been scribbled over relentlessly. It also had a snapchat username.
Snap: KasperEddie youre rly hot attractive and it makes me nervous but i wanna keep talking 2 to you - eddie (the small blonde one of stan’s brothers who gets really nervous around you)
Richie didn’t bother fighting the smile off his face. His day was looking up. Even though it was 11:26 at night. 
He nabbed his phone and collapsed on his bed, adding Eddie’s username, and taking a quick photo of him lying in bed and sent it to the cutie patootie. 
Tozier Boy🤙 (Trashrecords): Heyyyyyyyyy got ur message closing the door on me was rly sex c of u
The response was almost immediate. It was a photo of Eddie’s computer. Looks like he was writing an essay.
Eeeeeeee: Sorry you make me nervous I didn’t know what else to do
Richie grinned wildly and stuck his tongue out at the camera, still lying in bed
Tozier Boy🤙: ill let it slide cause youre cute as hell xox
Then he texted Stan.
You to Stealink my NOTs (11:29): you BASTART whyd u kick me out if eddie liked me
And got a snap from Eddie: A photo of his keyboard:
Eeeeeeee: oh!!! 
“Holy fuck.” Richie whispered. “You are fucking adorable.” 
and he sent Eddie a photo of his ceiling saying just that.
Stealink my NOTs to You (11:35): Because Eddie told me to. Said you made him nervous. He also told Bill he liked you and if you started speaking to Eddie Bill would put 30 rounds in your chest.
You to Stealink my NOTs (11:35): hot damn 
Stealink my NOTs to You (11:36) Also; Ben wants you to come back over and give him “Romance Advice” because you seem “With it” 
You to Stealink my NOTs (11:37): u never told me ben was a grandpa
The next image was of Eddie’s face, which was cute enough, except he had drawn blush onto himself. Eeeeeeee: thank you
Immediately following it was a black screen: omg im covered in acne and im sweaty im so sorry
Richie took a photo of him making a desperate face. 
Tozier Boy🤙: can we go out i need to get you comfortable with me holding your cute little face as soon as fucking possible also can u go call Ben a grandpa its very important
A photo of a confused bed tucked into a beanbag chair: Eeeeeeee: he said stan JSUT called him that fjkdhflkjdhfjdkhjkd
Richie smiled against his pillow, trying to breath slowly to calm himself down. Holy fuck this fucking kid. 
Stealink my NOTs to You (11:45) We’ve made Ben very sad. 
You to Stealink my NOTs (11:45) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Stealink my NOTs to You (11:46) He told me Eddie called him a grandpa too and made the “:(” face and then told me you just “Walk with.. uhm.. swagger and stuff. [You] just seem to know what he’s doing..” Little does he know-
You to Stealink my NOTs (11:46) who’s gonna tell him im dumbass
Then Richie went back to Eddie, trying to pull himself together, took a photo of his dog. 
Tozier Boy🤙: so…. did u…… wanna …..hmmmmmmm… go out sometime.?
The next photo was of Eddie’s wide eyes, it was blurry, like he was moving as he took it. 
Eeeeeeee: !!!!!! CAN U BRING UR DOG
“God damn.” 
Tozier Boy🤙: which one I got 2 an old man corgi (Amante/Ames) and this baby (Bellissima/Belle) 
Eeeeeeee: BOTH!!!! I WOULD DIE FOR THEM
Then Eddie sent another black screen. 
Eeeeeeee: Fr though I would like a date. Do you like ice cream?
Tozier Boy🤙: im lack toes and taller ants i love ice cream how about this saturday at noon?
Stealink my NOTs to You (11:53): Eddie’s cackling madly what the fuck did you do
You to Stealink my NOTs (11:53) lack toes and taller ants dude
Stealink my NOTs to You (11:54): Cool. Stop it.
Eeeeeeee: sure!!
Richie dropped his phone to the side and danced against his bed. Waving his hands to The Safety Dance. Dates, dogs and cute boys. Okay. 
He spent the rest of the night talking with Eddie, grinning widely the whole time. 
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aggressivehasana · 6 years
Text
Starry Night
Fandom: Aggretsuko/Aggressive Retsuko
Characters: Haida, Retsuko, Fenneko, Ookami, Tsunoda, Ton, Resasuke
Relationship: Haida/Ookami
Summary: AU where Retsuko didn’t break up with Resasuke and Haida is dealing with that.
Warnings: None
- - -
CHAPTER 05
« Prev , Next »
Words: 1,670
Betaed by: @pomp-adourable
A/N: –
In a dark amber tinted room, a pair of olive eyes opened slowly.  To their owner, everything seemed blurry at first; his heavy eyelids threatening to close again and send him back to dream land, but the longer he kept them open, the clearer the picture became, and the faster he started to realize that something was wrong. He frowned in confusion, and struggling as though someone had drained all the strength from him, he rose up heavily, sitting on the bed and letting the sheets rest on his lap. He gazed bleary-eyed around the neat and quiet room, realizing that its warm color was cast by the unfamiliar orange curtains blocking the sunlight. But not only did he not recognize the curtains; He didn’t recognize anything.
A number of questions started sprouting in his head, “Where am I?” being the first, followed by “How did I get here?” and “What happened?”  But a sudden sharp sting in his head interrupted his worries, and he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a quiet hiss as he pressed his fingers tightly against his temples. For several seconds he couldn’t focus on anything but the pain, and he had to wait patiently for it to subside before he was able to open his eyes again. He whined; that had left him feeling queasy and it really wasn’t helping his current situation. 
He sighed heavily and looked around once more, determined to find some answers, until he finally set his eyes on the night table beside to him. There were three items that immediately caught his attention: a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and a handwritten letter on a ripped sheet of notebook paper. He quickly reached out to grab the latter, his head protesting the sudden movement, and after taking a few breaths to let the pain ease again, he started reading with half opened eyes.
“Haida-Senpai:
I hope you’re feeling better! Don’t worry, I called to the office and told Director Ton you were terribly sick (enough to not be able to make the call yourself). I told him it seemed to be food poisoning and he gave you the day off, so now you can take it easy and rest.
Help yourself with anything from the kitchen. I made some fresh coffee this morning, and I’ve got Miso soup in the fridge if you’d like. There’s also eggs, toasted bread, some bananas, apple juice… I’m just saying, you probably have a terrible hangover right now.  
If you do feel better though, then maybe I could ask you a favor? I left the clothes you vomited on in a basket in the bathroom, could you take them to the Laundry downstairs? Along with my other clothes, please. I think you owe me that much for taking care of your drunk ass last night ;) You can throw in your clothes too, if you want, since they also reek of puke and alcohol.
Anyway, feel free to stick around my apartment for as long as you want! Internet password is “LadyKiller1996”. Netflix should be permanently logged in, if it isn’t, text me and I’ll give you the username and password, just don’t touch the shows I’m watching please.
I’ll see you later!
Lo Regards, Ookami
AH! Ps. I left you some clean clothes on the chair next to the window! :)”
Even after he was done reading, his eyes were frozen on the bottom of the sheet. He blinked slowly and heavily as his sore brain processed the information. He re-read:
“Lo Regards, Ookami”
…Ookami?
He looked back up, running his eyes over the room.
Was this…Ookami’s place? How did he get there?
He looked back down at the letter, this time re-reading the line:
“I think you owe me that much for taking care of your drunk ass last night ;)”
He made like a statue again, trying his best to dig into his memory. He sure remembered visiting the bar after he’d finished doing Retsuko’s work, but afterwards…?
He was interrupted once again by a strong throb of his headache, and that’s when he concluded he wouldn’t be able to go on like that. He wasn’t going to get anywhere. His entire being was demanding more rest and he didn’t feel like he could fight it anymore. So, feeling a little calmer now that he at least knew where he was, he took a deep breath and turned to place the letter back on the night table. He then reached out for the pain killers, popping one before drinking it down with several gulps of water. Then he slid back between the sheets and snuggled against the pillow.
Despite how worn out he felt, it did take him a while to fall back asleep due to the strong pain over his shoulders, but the painkiller helped gradually, and after a few minutes he was down for the count.
---
While he was waiting for the miso soup to boil, his eyes were running once more over the letter that Ookami had left him. The kitchen clock marked 1:48.
Only 20 minutes earlier he had woken up. Feeling much better finally, he’d leaned up, rubbed his face with his hands, and fell still for a few seconds while looking around. Right, he was in Ookami’s room.
“Time is it?” he mumbled to himself then, scanning the walls for a clock before moving his eyes to the night table on the opposite side of the bed. A digital clock read 1:27 pm. 1:27 pm? Holy cow, it was late!
He couldn’t afford staying in bed any longer (not that he even felt like he needed to, thankfully). He had to take care of several things, starting with the black hole he had for a stomach and the dryness in the back of his throat. He remembered Ookami had mentioned, in his letter, something about there being miso soup in fridge, and double checking that fact he was also reminded that there was some coffee. So without further ado, he stood up and headed to the kitchen.
Taking a long sip of that glorious hot beverage, he had to turn his head a little bit so the borrowed mug wouldn’t block his view of the remarkably perfect handwriting. He couldn’t help worrying his eyebrows as soon as his eyes reached the third paragraph.
“If you do feel better though, then maybe I could ask you a favor? I left the clothes you vomited on in a basket in the bathroom, could you take them to the Laundry downstairs? Along with my other clothes, please. I think you owe me that much for taking care of your drunk ass last night ;) You can throw in your clothes too, if you want, since they also reek of puke and alcohol.”
He lowered the mug and re-read that whole piece of the letter again.
Of course, miso soup and being in Ookami’s apartment weren’t the only memories that came back to him after he woke up, but there were still some gaps in the picture, like a puzzle he was trying to put together, but several pieces were missing.
He remembered staying late after closing time, offering himself to do Retsuko’s work so she could head out to have her dinner with the guy from Sales, and he remembered regretting that decision about half an hour after she was gone. He remembered going through a whole spectrum of feelings during his over time in the office. He even remembered having to pause his work a couple of times, first to kick and punch his chair out of pent up anger, and then, about an hour later, to cry out of hopelessness and despair.
That’s when he’d decided, that after he was done, he’d go out for a drink. He considered asking Fenneko to come along with him, but he was feeling so miserable, so pathetic, that he didn’t want her to see him like that. And it was late anyway; it was almost 11. So he headed to Kuma’s Bar on his own; a bar he didn’t visit very often, being a little too fancy and slightly pricey for his taste, but screw it, he goddam deserved it!
He’d sat down at the counter. “Just a couple of drinks,” he told himself, since he didn’t want to repeat what happened the night he got pneumonia, but a couple of drinks turned into several more; who knows how many? He honestly lost count.
By then it was hard to remember everything in greater detail, but he remembered at some point that Ookami had appeared next to him. Then he remembered being in a car. Then he remembered walking up some stairs. And then… That was it. That was all he could remember. But reading the third paragraph for the fourth time, it seemed like he had given the maned wolf a really hard time… Did he really puke on him? How could he not remember that?
If that was true, then he definitely needed to do something about it. He hurried to finish his coffee and devour the soup once it was hot enough, and he headed back to the room to change into the clothes Ookami had left him. It felt a little uncomfortable to wear sweatpants with nothing underneath, but thankfully they were baggy enough so he could move freely inside of them. He couldn’t say the same for the plain white t-shirt though; even if he was only slightly bigger than his coworker, the maned wolf seemed to have a liking for rather tight clothes, and it showed in the way the garment was wrapping around his arms and chest. It wasn’t too uncomfortable though, so he only adjusted it a bit by rolling up the sleeves until they were barely at the bottom curve of his shoulders. He then carried on with the task at hand, which was collect his clothes along with Ookami’s, and take them to the Laundry.
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