#me: i'm gonna get a job at the pet store | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eternalsams · 4 months ago

Text

Never Again ↝ Tyler Owens

pairing: Tyler Owens x gn!reader

content/warning: bit of fluff, pet names, mention of sex (but no description whatsoever), mockery, swearing, slight angst

summary: When Tyler is invited on a talk show about his notoriety on YouTube, he doesn't expect that kind of meeting.

words count: 1.6k

notes: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. NOT PROOF READ

You just came home from the groceries, your arms loaded with full bags and balancing yourself not to drop the keys when Tyler almost jumped on you. "Babe, I'm gonna be on TV!" He exclaimed, holding his phone and showing you the email he received. You blinked at him and didn't answer immediately, trying to process his words. "You what?" You then asked. He slipped his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed the two bags you were carrying, helping you get everything inside. "They somehow found my email and asked me if I wanted to be interviewed on live TV. National TV, babe!" He laughed and his phone started ringing. He pulled it out and his smile widened. "It's Boone. Don't worry about the groceries, I'll store everything myself, beautiful." He answered the phone and went to your shared room to call his best friend. You could hear his excited voice as him and Boone started getting each other going about the whole thing.

You grabbed Tyler's laptop and opened his mails, reading the last one he received. He was right, it was a big thing. The Tornado Wranglers would get a lot of new visibility with that interview. You were excited for Tyler, he loved being on camera, that was for sure. But he also loved meeting people who were interested in what he was doing. With that interview, he had the chance of showing the whole country how fascinating weather could truly be. You were disrupted in your reading by Tyler's scream in the bedroom, quickly followed by a loud laugh. You chuckled at how excited he was and closed the laptop before starting to put away the groceries. Tyler quickly joined you after his numerous phone calls and gently scolded you when he noticed you started storing the groceries while he said he'd do it himself.

"Did you answer yet?" You asked him after the euphoria of the moment passed. "No, not yet." He chuckled as he grabbed a piece of bread to eat it. "I wanted to tell you and the guys first. But especially you. What do you think?" He then asked, looking into your eyes. "I think it's amazing, Tyler. You're so passionate about what you do and you know so much. You'll be able to show people how interesting the weather can be. Maybe some kids are gonna go study meteorology because of you." You smiled at him as you grabbed his hand in yours. Your boyfriend smiled at you and brought your hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. "It's gonna be amazing." He practically day-dreamed. You laughed and bent over the table to gently kiss his lips, your hand taking place on his cheek.

Two weeks later, you were standing behind Tyler as a girl brushed some mattifying powder on his face. He didn't tell you but you knew his heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, both from excitement and anxiety. He was so scared to make a fool of himself, to fumble over his words and look like he was a fraud. When the makeup artist finished her job, someone opened the door and announced you had 5 minutes left before Tyler was called on-stage. "You ready?" You asked, smoothing his flannel shirt. "Why is my heart beating so fast? I drive through tornado for a living, I shouldn't be scared of this." He sighed, carefully rubbing his eyes not to ruin the makeup artist's work. "Don't worry, it's just the nerves. You'll be great." You ran your fingers in his hair, styling it the way you loved it and he kept it everyday. "I'm just a bit upset Boone and the others weren't invited. We're a team, they should be there too." He closed his eyes and tried to focus on your fingers against his scalp.

The door opened one last time and a man called for Tyler. You kissed his cheek and wished him good luck before you watched him leave with the man to get everything checked for the mic. A woman came to lead you in another room where the program was on TV. You thanked her and grabbed a glass of water before taking a seat on the sofa. A few minutes later, Tyler was called on-stage and you saw him on the TV. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as he shook the host's hand and took a seat in front of the man. A wide smile took place on your lips as you watched the man you love glow with pride on cameras.

"Tyler, I'm so glad you could join us tonight. You have quite a reputation on the internet!" The host started when the applause stopped in the audience. "The pleasure is mutual, thank you very much for the invite. It's an honor to be here." Tyler said, looking around at the audience. "For anyone who doesn't know Tyler, he posts videos on YouTube of himself and his staff driving through tornados in Oklahoma and Arkansas. You must be some crazy fella to do this willingly!" The man said, making the audience laugh and Tyler chuckled. "It's a good summary, yes. But we're professionals, we are equipped to do so and we only drive through EF1s or small EF2s." Tyler reminded with a smile. "EF1, EF2, what's that?" You knew the host wasn't stupid enough to not know what that meant, but you were grateful that Tyler could explain it, the passion on his face was pure gold. "It's a scale we give tornados. But what's really interesting is that we don't scale a tornado according to its size or its speed. We give them their scale according to their damages." Tyler explained. "So how do you know you're driving through an EF1 and not an EF5?" The host asked. "I studied meteorology so I can identify whether it's gonna turn bad or not and if I catch a single sign it's gonna turn violent, we just leave and find shelter." He explained with simple words.

"So you studied meteorology, got a degree, and still shoot fireworks up tornados for YouTube?" The man laughed and you could see something break inside Tyler's eyes. He played it off and chuckled. "Well, yes. I love that job, I'm having fun with my best friends and entertaining people. That's the dream." He laughed and looked around, starting to notice some unpleasant looks in the audience. "And have you ever tried doing anything else in that car when the tornado is hitting you? I don't know, read a book, play scrabble or even have sex." New laughter were heard in the audience as the host laughed at his own joke. A dry smile stretched Tyler's lips as he slowly nodded, thinking about how to answer this. He couldn't just leave, he wanted to be the more mature on this stage. Before he could even say anything, the host looked back at him with a smile. "Your partner is part of your team, right? Maybe if you asked, you could get a lot of views." He joked, making Tyler's blood boil in his veins. "That won't be YouTube anymore, that's more like reality show. That's not what we do." Some laughter were heard in the audience but he knew better.

"Alright, alright... But be honest for a minute, you have a million followers on YouTube, your whole staff-" The host started to say. "We're a team. I'm not the boss, I'm only the driver." Tyler corrected and you could feel he started to lose his patience. "Your team is very active on social media, you must've had some weird requests." The host then asked, faking a smile for the television. Tyler knew what he was trying to do, he wanted him to admit he'd been asked for a sextape through a tornado. And even though he received that peculiar request once or twice, nobody needed to know. You and him would never record that kind of video to post on the internet. "Someone once asked us to eat a pizza. And we all ended up having tomato sauce all over our faces." Tyler answered with a chuckle, now counting down the minutes before the end of the show. You watched as Tyler started to tap his foot in annoyance and you almost prayed for the host to stop his disrespectful questions.

The show regained a more respectful rhythm and when Tyler was dismissed, he immediately joined you in the backroom. "Let's go." He only said, grabbing your bag before taking your hand in his and walking, if not running, to the exit. He didn't say anything more until you were both in the car. He didn't start the engine, only staring at the steering wheel. "Tyler?" You gently put your hand on his arm but he violently hit the wheel with his hand. "Fuck! I really thought... I'm so stupid for thinking they'd be willing to listen to me." He rubbed his face and fought the tears away. Shame, embarrassement and anger were swirling inside him. "It's not your fault, Tyler. They were real bastards in there, you didn't deserve this." You tried to calm him down. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his shoulder, feeling him breathe deeply and relax. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel and tomorrow we'll have our flight home. You can tell Boone New York was shit and he'll tell you 'I told you so' before offering you a beer." You chuckled softly as you gently stroked his arm. Tyler nodded and started the rental before driving to your hotel. At least the show runners had the decency to pay for everything.

taglist:

@iliketopgun @callsigns-haze @toxiqueamour @choppedgalaxynerd @luvrofdilfsandmilfs @y-nk-live @books4ever03 @hookslove1592 @ipowell-tyler @floydsglasses @blue-aconite @28cnn @iscience02

@senawashere @melidot @cevansbaby-dove @katiemcrae @twisterschaser @starsrfun @lovemmay @lyn-js @lynnestra44 @classyunknownlover @imaginesofdreams @horseslovers2016

@og-baby-ob14 @attastarkey @sehnsuchts-trunken @tngrace @rockandrollbuckarooo @natzp03 @havaneselover08 @callsignrambam @trustingmina @obsessed-fan-alert @siriuslysirius05

@goodoldfashionedunderdog @xsoultruthx @hotsauceeater @mae-murdock @kadygirl @zombiedixon89 @kamperzz @lokisvariant @nixlikestix8 @another-tblr-fangirl @wpdarlingpan @puttyly

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fic #glen powell #glen powell x reader #glen powell x you #glen powell fic #twisters #twisters 2024

347 notes · View notes

wonwooslibrary · 11 months ago

Text

svt as boyfriends ♡ joshua edition

member: joshua x reader genre: established relationship, bullet points word count: 738 summary: joshua's boyfriend things ;) warnings: mentions of food and i think that's it! let me know if i missed anything! author's note: y'all i am almost two whole days late with this oh god it keeps getting worse. i am...very tired haha i've been working a lot to build up some money while i'm not in school so yeah. i lowkey forgot about joshua/taehyung day until i opened twitter and saw people talking abt shua and i was like WAIT THAT IS TODAY anyway moral of the story i'm tired and need a break but here is the joshua fic we've all been waiting for! ily all and enjoy <3

He lowkey gives the vibes of like. The foreign exchange student bf with a relationship with a deadline

He’s the silly bf!!!

He’s also one of the members I see the least as a boyfriend so this is going to be interesting to write…

Quality Time

Mans is a fan of everything fr !!! He absolutely loves spending time with you and your shared group of friends

Loves doing silly little activities with you like making bracelets and painting

He might just be the artsy bf we all want

Joshua loves to go to different places with you like thrift stores, arcades, cafes, literally anything as long as he is with you <3

Loves the feeling of mixing his friend groups - the day you meet his friends aka his brothers he will be imploding with love for everyone

Is the “i get bored easily” bf so y’all gotta be doing like ten different things at once

Will totally ask you to dance or just close your eyes and be with him when a slow song comes on at a party / get together / playing music at home

Words of Affirmation

You totally call him Joshy or Shua and he loves every minute of it bc he thinks it’s cute

“Darling, would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow morning?” SCREECHING

Believes the relationship revolves around pet names (ie. baby, sweetie, darling) he's adorable

Is always proud of you and encouraging!!!

Likes to leave little notes for you around the house. Maybe by your favorite drink in the fridge that reads, “I got these for you. stay hydrated, love”

At the beginning of the relationship he was so formal with you, that it took him saying “I love you” for the first time to relax for five seconds LOL

Physical Touch

Joshua loves handholding ‼️

This man always wants to have some sort of contact with you, whether that be holding hands, linking fingers or rubbing your back

Loves having you sit on his lap or lay your legs across his

His go-to move when you are in public is linking your pinkies together (how cute :3)

Leans on you when he laughs because he cannot sit still

I feel like Joshua would like. move his fingers on your leg in the way of playing piano keys but with guitar if that makes sense? Like where the frets are? Idk

Is also the type to be scared of touching you in front of others until you explicitly tell him that it's okay

Acts of Service

Loves doing the chores for you

“Hey, baby, I'm gonna fill my water bottle. Do you need me to fill yours?”

Or even a, “hey i borrowed your car, but i filled the tank before bringing it back” we love a man who can afford to fill a vehicle’s tank at this point in time

Likes to bring you lunch once or twice a week --- he’ll make it himself and pack it in a cute little bag and everything

Helps you in little ways like folding the laundry or helping you pick out outfits on those days that you struggle to do anything

Is always there for you when literally anything happens. You need someone to help fix your car? He’s on the phone finding a shop. You can’t reach a high shelf or your back hurts too much to bend down to get something from a low cupboard? He’s right there ready to help

Gift Giving

I touched on this a tiny bit earlier but !! handmade jewelry omg he would make matching bracelets for y’all or even a necklace or earrings for you if bracelets interfere with your job

Always buys little trinkets that remind him of you or your relationship

“Hey I found this little glass rose decoration and it reminded me of the time i got you flowers when i asked you out the first time”

HE WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE CUTE SHY SMILE WHEN HE GIVES YOU SOMETHING TOO as if you’ll ever tell him that you dislike something he got for you

He would also love if you gave him gifts too like, “hey joshy I got this little container that can help you keep your beads organized” and he’s melt into a puddle of goo onto your living room floor

Also gets something for you (usually your favorite snack or drink) when you’re especially sad or stressed out - like a super gift instead of his regular daily gifts or something

Idk just know he’s really sweet and enjoys crafting

179 notes · View notes

bunninova · 7 months ago

Text

nothing new to add to the watcher fiasco so here's this. not to make it personal but I'm gonna make it personal.

what they get payed per brand deal could pay for a year of uni for me. what they make with patreon per year would change my entire family's life. my 50-60 year old parents could finally drop one of the multiple jobs they have, my sister could spend time with her kids and finally afford a proper wedding, I could go back to much needed therapy. we could travel more and go to concerts and nice restaurants, we could get tattoos and professional haircuts, we could spend money on spoiling our pets, we could buy books and clothes and go to the cinema without having to carefully budget, things the watcher folk do regularly without giving it a second thought. I could buy my best friend with unstable housing an apartment for their family for fucks sake. I'm out here skipping meals on school days because I can't afford to spend £5-10 a day to eat at uni, 'borrowing' necessities from big stores, and missing out on social events or birthdays that involve going out. I've only donated £20 in total in the last couple months to help people in Gaza and it devastates me that I can't donate more. I'm still privileged in many ways, the world is in shambles and regular people are being hit with an economic crisis, where housing and food is hard to secure.

I've been a huge fan of Shane and Ryan since I was thirteen, they were my comfort creators. I even checked their shows and merch to see if I could afford it (no) because I wanted to support them. their content has gone down hill for the past year and I still sat through the forced cringey parts because I used to love their videos. I respected them, they brought me joy and inspired me to create. "we priced it low enough that anyone can afford it". fuck off. day 3 and not even an acknowledgement. this has felt like the biggest "fuck you, poor" ever to me and I'm crushed.

#vent #watcher entertainment #watcher #wearewatcher #we are watcher #ryan and shane #shane madej #ryan bergara #mystery files #ghost files #steven lim #capitalist hell #capitalism #personal rant #rant post

103 notes · View notes

itmeansiris · 3 months ago

Text

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Vet Visit Gen 1 pt.53

The Gratz had returned to Brindleton Bay and this week they had plenty to focus on. The triplets and Zohreh had back to back birthdays and they were going over to get to know the Walter’s .

They were new to the neighborhood and had moved in while the Gratz had been in Tomarang. Mercury had met Kiersten the day they returned. Kason had pointed out the moving boxes. She'd noticed a crib and toys meaning they likely had kids. Later that day they'd gone over to introduce themselves. Only Kiersten was home at the time, her husband Rufus, who had apparently landed a job at Kason's engineering company as some kind of computer tech, had taken their 2 children out on a store run. M, always the people person, liked Kiersten almost instantly. She was kind, loved books and was family orientated, so before heading home they'd made plans to have lunch.

Kason returned from work to find M and Zohreh out front.

Kason: Pose gorgeous, I'm gonna sell this one to the papparazzi.

He joked as he snapped her picture on his phone.

M: Hey babe. Good day at work?

Kason: Yeah, kind of a quite day. Worked on upgrading some of the servos nothing interesting.

M: I'm looking for Comet he's been scratching all day. I called the vet and made an appointment.

Kason: I'll take him don't worry.

Kason arrives at the Brindleton Pawspital. He gets Comet checked in, finds a place to get out of his uniform and waits for the Vet to call them in.

Madison, Paris's best friend was also at the clinic with her cat Pumpkin and had called Paris to keep her company. Kason hadn't noticed Paris come in.

Madison: See anything interesting in the cafe.

Paris: Nothing I won't have to spike myself.

Madison: It's a cafe at the vets office what did you expect.

Paris: Remind me why your mother got you that cat again.

Madison sighs but doesnt answer the question, instead she redirects.

Madison: Isnt that Kason?

Paris: Yeah. I saw when he came in. Haven't seen him much lately.

Madison: I assume its because he hates you.

Paris: Haha, funny. You should go over and say hi.

Madison looks at Paris skeptically.

Madison: Why would I do that?

Paris: Because he's a nice guy.

Madsion scuffs and whispers.

Madison: Yeah with a wife who told you to stay away from him. In fact he told you to stay away from him.

Paris: Which is whyyy, your going to go say hello. He avoids me like the plague.

Madison: Thats a sign Paris.

Paris: Oh come on. I just want to see what happens okay.

Madison rolls her eyes but gives in to Paris's childish request.

Paris: I'll just wait outside.

Once Paris makes herself scarce, Madison turns around and waves to Kason when they make eye contact.

Madison: Hi, I saw your dog when you came in he's a cockapoo right?

Kason smiles politely.

Kason: Yeah.

Madison came around to pet Comet

Madison: Aren't you just the cutest little guy. Whats his name?

Kason: Comet. Becareful he's an attention hog, plus we’re not sure what he's in for just yet.

Madison takes a seat beside him.

Madison: I'm Madison and we?

Kason: Kason, nice to meet you. And yeah my wife she made the appointment for comet to see the vet.

Madison: Oh, is she here?

Kason: No she's at home. Mercury Medley Gratz the writter you may have heard of her.

Madison: Your wife is Mercury Medley!? She writes the most amazing fantasy novels. I own her entire “Jounal of a Werewolf” collection.

Kason: I'll tell her that. She'll be glad to hear.

Madison: Please do... I'm sorry for her lost. I heard she lost her father recently. I can't imagine how hard that must have been, she's always thanked her father for her success in all her writting, they must have been close.

Kason: Thank you Madison. We appreciate your kind words and your support.

Kason found it easy to talk to Madison. He also couldn't deny she was fairly attractive. It wasn't a crime to appreciate beauty but he was slightly embarrassed to find himself checking her out. He knew it meant nothing, she was no M. Mercury's dark hair and curvy figure had captivated him but her beautiful mind and compassionate spirit had enamored him. Madison was a pretty face and a body, M was his soulmate. Besides, Kason had accepted his Faithful trait since he became a YA. He wouldn't ruin everything for something so trivial. He averted his eyes and continued their chat with his eyes kept at a respectful level.

They talked about Mercury's newest books and Madison explained why her cat Pumpkin was there. Neither of them noticed Paris slip back in and start snapping photos of the pair.

Vet Tech: Pumpkin and Madison. You can come in now.

Madison: It was nice to meet you and please if you convince her to do a signing or a meet and greet please email me. Have a good night Kason.

Madison heads in the back with her cat and Paris finally makes her presence known to Kason.

Paris: Hey Kay, How's it going?

Kason: What can I do for you Paris?

He asked with feigned politeness.

Paris: I just wanted to say hello but I saw you were busy. The girl, she was really pretty but she definitely wasn't your wife.

she says with a hint of accusation.

He quickly drops the act not wanting to play her game today.

Kason: It's none of your business who I talk to. But since you asked She a fan of literature something you probably know little about. Particularly a fan of Mercury's.

Paris: Rude. So if I liked your wife's fiction stories then you'd like me.

Kason: I don't like you because you’re a rude brat who throws tantrums when she doesn't get what she wants. You don't know how to behave like an adult and you don't know when to quit. I'll tell you again Paris leave me and my wife alone.

Vet Tech: Comet and Kason. You can head in now.

Kason follows the Vet Tech without another word to Paris

Veterinarian: Mr.Gratz Comet looks good. He just has a patch of dry skin. We gave him a preventative shot and we'll send you home with some special dog shampoo and he should be just fine.

Kason: Thank you, his mom will be glad to know its just dandruff. Lets get home buddy.

Brindleton Pawspital by @mikkimur-sims

#sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #solar system legacy challenge #itmeansiris #gen 1 #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 story #sims 4 lovestruck #sims 4 romance

21 notes · View notes

hurpdurpburps · 4 months ago

Text

Otherside Picnic Manga Yuri Club Special Story 5 English Translation

SPOILER WARNING: Takes place between the events of File 5 - The Operation to Rescue the U.S. Forces at Kisaragi Station and File 6 - Resort Night at the Beach of the End in Vol 2 of the novels.

Written by: Miyazawa Iori

Translated by: @hurpdurpburps

Chapter 5: Naha, After The Big Job

We were dumbfounded to find ourselves in the middle of a bustling city centre after passing through the gate from the Otherside. We were wrapped from head to toe in humid tropical air, on the rooftop of a building lined with large air conditioning condenser units and antennas. A chaotic mix of voices, footsteps, busy traffic, bass-heavy rock music and folk songs came from below us. Just as it had been in the Otherside, it was almost dusk, but the evening sky was dyed with the bright glow of signboards and street lamps that were turned on early.

Toriko turned towards me with wide eyes. "Is this supposed to be Okinawa as well?"

"Hold on, I’m gonna look it up."

I fished my phone out of my backpack and turned it on.

The both of us looked at the screen and checked our current location on Google Maps. Sure enough, we were in Okinawa. And right in the heart of Naha to boot.

"It seems like we’re on Kokusai-dori." [1]

"That's a famous spot!"

"Really?"

"It's supposed to be the biggest commercial district in Okinawa.”

"Huh, you seem to know quite a bit."

After defeating the Kankandara and sending the American soldiers back to where they came from, we’d trekked through the dark forest in search of another gate.

Even though we were exhilarated with the sense of accomplishment of having completed such a huge undertaking [2], it was already almost sunset, and we had been terrified at the thought of spending the night in that eerie forest, so we were relieved when I spotted silver phosphorescence lingering inside of a hollow tree a short distance away.

We peered down from the edge of the roof. Crowds of humans were weaving their way through the brightly-lit streets.

"I'm so glad we didn't jump out from the gate right into the middle of that…" Toriko said as she slipped the AK off her shoulders.

"It’s Japan, so wouldn’t they just think of these as airsoft guns if they saw us?"

"I wonder… We’re in Okinawa, and there are a lot of Americans here… We might’ve caused a fuss."

"That's true… Let's just put it away quickly."

I had Toriko take apart my rifle for me, then put it my bag along with the Makarov. Feeling lighter on my feet after taking off all the gear, I put on my backpack again. We were the opposite of chic, but at least we were able to make ourselves presentable enough to be out in public.

We made our way from the roof to ground level through the emergency stairs. Putting on a face that said “Nope, we’re not trespassing at all”, we blended into the crowds walking down the streets, which were lined with bars, yakiniku restaurants, touristy souvenir shops, accessory shops, and kariyushi shirt [3] specialty stores. It seemed like a lie that we’d been in the Otherside mere moments ago.

"I’ve always wanted to come to Okinawa! I'm so happy," Toriko cried out excitedly.

"You made it. Good for you."

"It's all thanks to you giving your all, Sorawo."

"Erh, well."

"You put so much effort into it that you ended up crying."

"Can we drop this already."

"You were amaazhing." [4]

"Stop petting me!"

Although I was trying to put on an angry act at Toriko, I realised that I was getting excited myself.

What am I supposed to do, ending up in a place like this out of the blue? It's Monday tomorrow, but it'll be impossible to make it to class. It's hot in these long sleeves, I’m so jealous everyone around me is wearing a T-shirt. I want to take a shower…

I had plenty of concerns hanging on my mind, but being wrapped in this tropical atmosphere made me feel like it was alright to save my worries for later.

Most important of all, I’d suddenly gotten hungry as soon as we reached a safe location.

There were times when I really couldn’t understand Toriko’s intense commitment to the “afterparty” shtick. But today, for the first time, I felt like I could understand her feelings.

"What do you want to eat?" I asked.

Toriko’s reply rang loudly in my ears. "Okinawan food!"

"Sounds good. I wonder if there’s a restaurant around here."

"Anywhere works. I'm hangwy." [5]

And so, we popped into a restaurant without so much as a spare thought after coming across a signboard for an Okinawan restaurant at the entrance of a shopping arcade facing Kokusai-dori. The restaurant had a spacious tatami room in the back, and the menu was full of local dishes that I'd never tried before. We immediately ordered two beers and a bunch of random dishes. Just for today, Toriko was absolved of the crime that was her habit of ordering too much without thinking about the consequences. I was so hungry that I could probably eat a habu or even a mongoose. [6]

"Oh, we should get in touch with Kozakura. She's probably wondering how things went."

"Ah, you’re right."

I took out my phone and sent a message to Kozakura.

“We’ve returned.”

“We’re in Okinawa right now.”

The messages were immediately marked as read as I was looking at the screen.

"I’m sure she’s thinking, ‘What the hell is this girl saying’."

"For sure!"

Even we couldn't believe that we were in Okinawa just a few hours after parting ways in Shinjuku. Our beer and hors d'oeuvres were served just as we broke into a laughing fit. I snapped a photo while we were at it.

”Jimami tofu and sea grapes.” [7]

I sent the photo to Kozakura with an accompanying description [8], then we picked up our sweating beer mugs.

"Here’s to returning safely, great work today!"

"Cheers!"

We clinked our mugs together and let the ice-cold beer run down our throats.

TL Notes

General note: I adopted a more 'literary' prose style to match the tone of the novels. Hence, the translation in this series will be significantly more liberal than my usual analytical posts. Feel free to ask me anything.

[1] As mentioned in the actual novel, Kokusai-dori translates to "International Street", but I opted to keep the Japanese name as that's the official name of the location.

[2] This actually a title name-drop (大仕事), but "big job" doesn't really fit in this sentence so I altered it.

[3] Kariyushi shirts are basically Okinawa's version of Hawaiian shirts. They're an iconic part of Okinawan tourism.

[4] Toriko says "えらいえらい", which is what adults say to wittle keeds for doing such a good job.

[5] Toriko says "お腹ペコペコ", which you might know if you've watched a Mr Yabatan video or two. Basically a cutesy way of saying you're hungry, often by children.

[6] A habu is a venomous snake native to the Ryukyu Islands, which Okinawa is a part of. The mongoose was introduced to Okinawa as a natural predator to suppress the local habu population. Both animals are sort of iconic when it comes to Okinawan fauna, hence Sorawo making this reference.

[7] Jimami tofu (ジーマーミー豆腐) and sea grapes (海ぶどう) are a classic Okinawan specialty. Jimami tofu in particular refers to tofu made of peanut instead of soy. The novel translated it as "peanut tofu" which isn't wrong (and also literally correct) but I didn't want to give the mistaken impression of tofu with peanut sauce over it.

[8] Spamming someone obnoxiously with food photos is known as 飯テロ (meshi tero - lit "food terrorism"). So yes I think Sorawo has a thing for being a mental health terrorist to others lol. Shout out to Toriko for staying strong through a whole year's worth of psychic damage, and doubly so for Kozakura with her two brats.

List of Yuri Club's Otherside Picnic Short Stories [my translations]:

1. Shinjuku, The First Meet-Up (新宿、初めての待ち合わせ)

2. Hasshaku-sama Epilogue (八尺様エピローグ)

3. Ochanomizu, The First Afterparty (お茶の水、初めての打ち上げ)

4. Ikebukuro, Cafe Meal For One (池袋、ひとりカフェ飯)

5. Naha, After The Big Job (那覇、大仕事の後)

6. Ishigaki Island, A Dazed Vacation (石垣島、呆然のリゾート)

7. Mercedes AMG, The Backseat (メルセデスAMG、後部座席)

8. Otherworldly Elevator, On The Way Back (異世界エレベーター、帰路)

9. Kozakura Mansion, Pizza Party (小桜屋敷、ピザパーティー)

10. Ikebukuro Bookstore, Meet Up (池袋の書店、待ち合わせ)

11. Hannou, In The Car From The Station (飯能、駅からの車中)

12. TBD

#otherside picnic #裏世界ピクニック #urasekai picnic #Otherside Picnic Yuri Club Special Story #裏世界ピクニック百合部限定ss

26 notes · View notes

mountainashes · 3 months ago

Note

Do you have any UD as adults hcs? (Like middle ageish)

Ooo hi!

Okay, again not rlly strict or clear ones, but I like to think about it. That being said, I'm mostly coming up with it as I go along. I'm just gonna answer this with every character as if nothing bad happened to them so I can include the Washingtons- I hope thats ok, if not I can do a post game one I'm sure all I think abt is this game.

Jess

I like to think she would become a model like she wants to be.

Also maybe an actress in some of Josh's films lol. I think she'd be good at it.

Honestly job wise I think she just does whatever she feels like, she's a very free and funloving person.

She visits Em at her work all the time, they have their lunch together.

She has a german shepard dog.

Ash

Ashley works on her books, which are mostly like crime-mystery type stories.

She often goes over Josh's scripts with him.

She works at a coffee shop in a mall because she just likes the vibe of sitting and writing in a café on her breaks.

She has pet ferrets.

Sam

She works at an animal shelter while also volunteering with conservation charities and stuff.

She's athletic and does runs and stuff for fundraising for charity.

She's hard to make plans with because she's always up to something, always busy. But she makes sure to be free for when the Washingtons host a get-together at the lodge :)

She works assistant manager at a clothing store, and she is in her ELEMENT.

Crochets in her spare time.

Sometimes does hikes with Sam.

Always changing her hairstyle, she's definitely braver when it comes to her style and doing what she wants.

She has a cat.

Beth

Does soundtracks for things, she's very into her music. Often Josh will get her for his films.

She's a music teacher on top of that, just because I think it'd be funny.

She gets really into gardening, grows fruit + veg and uses it when she makes any meals.

That said she also gets into cooking and sometimes hosts dinners with family or friends.

Han

Still into her weird hobbies (bug keeping, doll collecting).

She works with Josh all the time and helps with concept art and stuff. (Shes artsy as well to me).

Spends a lot of time up at Blackwood, works there when it's open. She's a ski instructor.

She also collects bones and feathers and stuff up there.

She joins Sam on a lot of her hikes/runs as well.

Plans and hosts the Feburary lodge hangouts.

Josh

He does film writing/directing, much like his dad.

His movies are much more psychological horror whereas his dad's were more ur slasher-type horror.

He spends pretty much all his free time with his friends and family, his own home is basically abandoned 90% of the time.

Often helps Ashley go over her writing as well.

Him and Jess drive out into the woods at random times to walk and chat, usually trading updates on their friends' lives and stuff.

Mike

Sort of like Jess, he just does whatever.

I can see him working with dogs tbh, maybe with Sam at the shelter. He deals with the larger breeds specifically.

He has a collie dog he goes everywhere with pretty much.

He also likes to show up and bother Em at her work. Lol.

Matt

He becomes a P.E teacher at the same place Beth is a music teacher.

He often goes to Blackwood when Hannah's there and they ski and hike together.

He goes on roadtrips with Ashley and Josh, he's usually driving while they get pictures and stuff for inspiration. They have gotten lost a LOT.

Chris

He does app design, most of his work is from home.

He's often with Josh, and does help with any technical stuff for Josh.

Ashley and Josh like to drag him out into the sun every now and again, because otherwise he would likely happily sit behind a screen all day.

I think I'll leave this now, I hope its ok. Thanks for the ask :D

#I'd go into more detail about hcs for specific ships n stuff #but idk what u ship so i wasnt gonna like. Force u to read my ship hcs and i wasnt gonna write down stuff for every ship i have bc jeez #Thatd take forever #And im already a slow writer #so i kept it all platonic hcs #that being said if anyone has any ship related hcs like this I wanna hear them #desperate to talk abt ud #again ty for the ask #Hope its cool #until dawn #until dawn headcanons #no prank au headcanons

18 notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 1 year ago

Text

Matchmaking Harringtons 6

Okay I lied we got at least a couple more parts to go

Eddie had taken Steve on a date where they went to the music store to buy some cassettes and listen to them in his van.

"You really wanna go to work on a date?", Steve had asked.

"It's not the store I work at, so it doesn't count", Eddie had grinned. Eddie had just got paid and his first priority was always new music.

They both grabbed something, which Eddie paid for, while Steve got them lunch. They ate in the front seat of his van while listening to each other's music.

"I think I told you about how my family's coming into town for the 4th of July?", Steve said, halfway through his sandwich.

"A whole haggle of Harrington's, huh? Is there enough hairspray in Hawkins?"

"We might need to go to the next town over. Anyway, my parents said it was okay to invite you. If you wanted to come. You know, if you wanted."

"Wait, is there where I'm introduced to the don and told to kill a cop if I want your hand in marriage?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "The mob jokes weren't funny with my parents and they're not funny with me."

"I think your parents are funny", Eddie smirked.

"You wouldn't think so if you knew they thought of setting me up with some mafia guy. Ritchie or something." Steve wrapped up the half of his sandwich that he didn't eat. "Anyway, do you wanna go? It's a big step for us but-"

Eddie put his own on the dashboard. "Can we go back to the fact that your parents wanted to set you up with a mobster? Should I be worried?"

"According to my folks, he's a numbskull, so no. And they like you, so I wouldn't worry about anything. But I get it if you don't wanna be thrown to aunts and cousins. I mean I haven't even told the rest of my family that I'm...you know."

Steve hadn't even really thought about coming out to his extended family. Coming out to his mom and dad had been such a spur of the moment thing.

"Steve, if they're anything like Diane and Jonas, they'll have arranged a 'Steve is Gay' parade for you", Eddie smiled.

Steve covered his face. "God, you're right. I'm pretty sure I saw my mom starting a wedding scrapbook."

"A what-?!", Eddie squeaked.

"A nothing!"

Eddie cleared his throat. "On second thought....This family event sounds like a tall order for me. I think you need to convince me a little, make it up to me baby. I'm about to put in some heavy work."

Steve's response was to look Eddie up and down slowly, they move into the back of his van. Before they had gotten together, it had been a sparse area with little knick-knacks from things Eddie had hauled in the past. But since officially getting with Steve, Eddie always made sure to have a thick blanket and a couple of pillows at the ready.

They were currently parked near the quarry. It was nice, considering they didn't have a lot of places that they could be out publicly.

"Eddie~", Steve sang once he got back there, prompting his boyfriend to practically pounce on him.

"And ho~w exactly do you plan on making it up to me, hm?", Eddie asked as before pecking Steve's lips.

Steve chuckled and petted Eddie's hair, then pulled it away from his ear to whisper in it. "I'm gonna make you cum in your pants."

Eddie collapsed on top of Steve with a moan that was only a little exaggerated. From the moment he saw him walk into the music store, he wanted to get his hands on him. And every day that was able to was like a dream.

Steve flipped them over and kissed his lips, pulling back with a bite. Steve never got tired of kissing him. Any time they were alone his lips were on Eddie within five minutes. That one time, the two of them really had been looking at magazines before starting to grind on each other in his bed. Well now it was time to finish the job.

After nibbling on Eddie's lips a little more, Steve sucked at his neck. He could feel it warm in his mouth and could help but bite into it. Eddie was a biter himself and it had infected Steve. He tugged his shirt down a bit and kissed at his collarbone. Steve dragged his hands down Eddie's chest and sat up, straddling his hips.

Eddie let out a grunt. He was already at half-mast thanks to Steve's promise.

"You really want me that badly?", Steve whispered.

Eddie nodded quickly. "Always do."

Steve started slow, dragging his lower half from the top of Eddie's hips all the way down to the bottom of his crotch. Eddie whimpered every time their groins lined up. His hips jumped but it was clear he was holding back. Steve smiled and kissed his lips. Eddie was good at that, restraining himself because he didn't want to scare Steve off. He let Steve set the pace. And seeing how much Eddie desired him but still waited for permission was such a turn on.

He groaned as he pressed his own hard on against Eddie's. Steve fisted the blanket underneath them and started to get lost in the feeling. Eddie finally grabbed his hips, then his hands trailed down to Steve's ass, a cheek in each hand.

"Eddie~ Ah, uhn~"

Steve's breaths were starting to pitch and Eddie knew what that meant, knew what his love needed. One of Eddie's hands drifted upwards, all the way until he was caressing his cheek.

"Open up, baby."

Steve's lips parted and Eddie slipped two fingers between them, letting his boyfriend suck to his heart's content while they rutted against in the back of his van. It was fucking heaven. Steve moaned around his fingers, so greedy for it that he grabbed Eddie's wrist as if he would ever take them away.

Eddie was looking up at an absolute vision. It was like Steve was using him to get off. And that thought had Eddie bucking into him as he came, certain the van was rocking now. Steve looked down, moaning at the sight of the wet spot in Eddie's pants. That pushed Steve over the edge and he bit down lightly on Eddie's fingers as he did.

The air was filled with their panting while they came down from their high."

"Mmm", Eddie moaned as he took his fingers from Steve's mouth. "Got any other family obligations? A wedding? A graduation?"

"You lookin' to book another appearance already?", Steve grinned.

"If my compensation is like this, I'll be as regular as a fiber pill."

Steve couldn't choose between laughing or kissing so he did both, pressing his lips to Eddie while giggling through it.

Part 8

Tag Team

@tartarusknight @swimmingbirdrunningrock @estrellami-1 @potato-of-the-lord @dragonmama76 @m-owo-n @sticknpokelightningbolt @somegirlsomewhere @tinyplanet95 @samsoble @runniem @hallucinatedjosten @nburkhardt @littlewildflowerkitten @noctxrn-e @subversivecynic @larawrmonster @suikatto @platinum-sunset @imacowboy3 @tiny-enthusiast @netflixisacopingstrategymom @honorarybrit81 @manda-panda-monium @krazyperson @adaed5 @lololol-1234 @mrsjellymunson @uwujinniee

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #haha i finally put the dry humping scene #that's all this part is really

145 notes · View notes

it-happened-one-fic · 1 year ago

Text

Play the Fool - Dottore (Part 3)

Author's Notes: I've finally figured out how many fics it's going to take for me to finish this unplanned series. Just like the previous parts, I listened to "Black Sea" by Natasha Blume while writing this. Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Mer-Dottore/ Merman AU/ gender-neutral reader/ I'm not gonna label this as fluff since that doesn't feel quite right, but know that it's NOT angst, yandere, or anything like that

Word Count: 1468

Trigger Warning: Discussion of past crimes including murder (Dottore), Fatui are generally shady

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Three: You're Here!} {Part Four} {Part Five}

EDIT: Entire series now available on AO3! (link deleted due to glitches)

My cover job of cleaning Dottore’s tank was slippery work, but I’d managed to get some of the Fatui employees to bring over yet another, curiously identical wheeled tank for me to dump the green gunk that the harbinger had concocted into.

I clambered out of the newly cleaned tank, glancing around and noting that there was no one left in the room save for myself. Which was exactly what I needed, but was also very suspicious.

I couldn’t help but feel that this was all going a little bit too smoothly. But I also didn’t really have a choice but to accept it, at least for now. So I went ahead and flipped a heavy black tarp over the tank’s open lid to help with both the scent and the generally revolting appearance of the green algae.

If I were lucky or if someone really was behind the scenes, then the rest of the headquarters would be equally barren while I wheeled Dottore out under the guise of the trash that I now pushed in front of me.

I stopped next to Dottore’s tank, tapping it lightly to let him know it was just me before I reached over to shift the tarp. In response a webbed hand appeared on the glass. Dottore himself remained lying sluggishly on the bottom of the tank. The twitching of his blue fins was the only sign of life.

I frowned at the sight of him, pausing in my motions to look worriedly into the tank. He barely moved, but somehow I could feel his gaze shift to me. He made no motions to communicate or rush me. Instead he only pulled his hand back into a more relaxed position and remained laying, the gills in his side fluttering tiredly.

He reminded me of some of the less-than-healthy fish I’d seen in pet stores before when I’d looked into possible ways to care for him when I’d first been given my job. Then, I’d been more fascinated by him, though I’d still maintained a careful distance that made my current actions laughable.

But I’d always been less afraid of him than the scientists and I’d always viewed him as more than just a fish, unlike some of the other Fatui that came and went.

After all, no mere fish could incur quite so much horror in people nor could it kill quite so easily. There was always a cleverness to the merman that was decidedly human in the most malevolent way possible.

I was torn between offering words of reassurance and staying silent. A cold part of me argued that he was a horrible man who’d killed numerous scientists solely in the name of revenge and seemed to take a certain degree of delight in it. While they had betrayed him, two wrongs didn’t make a right, and who knew what all horrors this man had committed in his past scientific tests.

The other, more sympathetic part of me argued that he was a captive, treated little better than a discarded pet or scientific oddity that was known to be dangerous but also viewed as less than human.

I pursed my lips, my hand remaining on the glass, and the words slipped from my mouth as the more sympathetic side of me won over, “ I know you’re uncomfortable, but hang on just a little bit longer. We’ll be out of here and back at my home soon, and then I’ll at least be able to get the lid off this thing. Maybe then you can recover from whatever that gunk you created has done to you.”

He shifted, almost like he was trying to roll over to better look at me when I spoke. But I didn’t linger to watch his reaction. He needed action more than kind words right now. So instead of continuing to comfort him awkwardly, I stood and hurriedly shifted the tarp over to where he was before moving the algae filled tank off to the side.

Now, at a mere glance, people would hopefully assume it was just his tank and not go near it for fear of his past behavior.

I grasped the handles that stuck off Dottore’s tank and inhaled deeply before taking off down the hallway. Moving at a brisk pace that made it look like I was busy, but not like I was rushing. I couldn’t afford to get stopped by any suspicious Fatui now.

Something told me pushing a tank holding the former second of the harbingers would be frowned upon and lead to a not so pleasant end for me.

The halls were worryingly but also blessedly empty, making me frown even as I continued on the path of our escape. I was certain now, there was someone else involved in this little escape plan.

By playing the fool with both Dottore and Pantalone I was no doubt playing exactly into someone’s hands. But I was far enough down this path that I certainly wasn’t going back.

Clever, Dottore had called me. More like stubborn.

And, unsurprisingly at this point, our escape was a success. No one even tried to stop me as I left the Fatui base and turned down the path that went to home. In fact, one of the final guards we’d passed, Makism I believed his name was, had even waved.

I hadn’t paused until I had reached my home which was provided and paid for by Fatui higher-ups and thereby incredibly, but uncomfortably close to their headquarters. Because if nothing else, the Fatui paid their employees well. Even if said employee just took care of the mysterious and revenge-driven merman who served as both a terror, curiosity, and maybe even a warning.

It was almost distressing to be bringing this man, who could kill me the very second I opened his tank’s lid, into my home. But I did so. Grimly opening my door and pushing the tank into the building and then directly over to the secondary bathroom that I never used.

I yanked the tarp off, letting it flop down to the cold floor in a most condemning fashion as I looked at the locks on the tank’s lid. It was not the first time I’d realized exactly how risky of a plan this entire ordeal was and on what uneven ground me and Dottore were on.

He was far more dangerous than I and, if he so wished, he could easily get rid of me. I was relying on the idea that I was necessary to his survival, but how true that was I didn’t know.

After all, if he did kill me then Fatui would no doubt take one look at the fact that he’d gone missing on the very same day that would coincide with my death and draw one, not entirely wrong conclusion.

That I’d stolen their merman.

After that it wouldn't be hard to manipulate those scientists, ever eager for some new, grandiose finding, that I’d stolen from him because he knew something. Dottore would ensure that they kept him alive for that much longer by simply killing me. An act that I knew he would have little to no difficulty with.

My hand rested on the first lock as I stared blankly down at the metal. A single shift of my wrist and the lid would open and I would be risking it all by doing exactly what had landed me in this mess in the first place.

But, despite all the risks, the locks clicked open and I pushed the lid off, letting it fall to the floor with thud as I looked down into the water.

Dottore’s tail slid along the bottom of the tank from where he looked up at me like he was ready to spring out at any moment. He still looked weak, but I had no doubt that he could do far more damage than he let on.

And that was exactly why I was surprised when he uncurled and stretched his way up to the top of the tank.

I stepped backwards, my eyes never leaving him as he easily cut through the water’s surface, his fins wrapping around him and before fanning back out as his long, webbed fingers curled over the glass edges of the tank.

“Clever and efficient,” The words slipped from his lips and I found myself going still. I wasn’t, as of yet, used to him talking yet and his sonorous voice still caught me off-guard. Calling to mind old folk stories of merpeople using only their voices to tempt their prey closer and thereby foolishly condemn themselves to a watery death.

“It seems I was right to choose you,” A smile spread across his face and I felt myself, foolishly and despite everything, relax.

108 notes · View notes

akehoshimystar · 9 days ago

Text

Urara SSR

DELIGHT

Part 1

Roka: The event was a huge success ☆

Takeru: I'm relieved to see our customers leave the store satisfied.

Urara: Tch….

I couldn't care less about their satisfaction or whatsoever, but one thing for sure, I don’t enjoy being dragged to this tedious event one bit. All I wanted to say now was, “Just let me finish cleaning and leave already.”

Akehoshi: I'll put new garbage bags here~

Then... Should I clean the counter?

Roka: Oh, Urara already did that! Hasn’t it become so sparkly?

Akehoshi: Oh, you're right. Urara-kun's cleaning technique is still as fast and thorough as ever.

Urara: You guys are just too damn slow.

Roka: True, if we worked a little faster, everyone could go home early and be happy.

Let me help you!

Urara: Hold it. Roka, don't move even an inch. You’ll just give me extra work.

Roka: Fufufu. Even I can wipe a table.

Now, check out my elegant art of table-wiping!

Roka getting all worked up gave me a bad feeling.

Takeru: Ah, be carefu-

Roka: Wahhhhh!!!

Sure enough, he knocked over the glass on the table and splashed water in every single direction.

Urara: Tch…………………..

Roka: I'm really sorry, Urara……

Takeru: I’m saying this for your own good, but Roka, you should listen to Urara and behave yourself.

Roka: Now I’m sad...

Urara: (What kind of reaction is that?)

Once Roka had quieted down, the work went smoothly without a hitch.

Akehoshi: It's finally over.

Roka: Good job, guys. It looks even prettier than before the event!

So, how about we all go grab something to eat after this?

Akehoshi: So it’s your treat?

Roka: That goes without saying!

Urara: …….

Takeru: Oh. Urara, are you heading back now?

If you're not in a hurry, come join us. It's getting late. Aren’t you hungry?

Urara: ...Who the hell's gonna go with you?

(Leave me out of it if you’re just gonna play around.)

Roka: It’ll be even more fun if you come with us.

Akehoshi: Well, you can come again whenever you want.

Ignoring the murmuring I could hear behind my back, I left the store.

Part 2

Urara: (Now, what to eat...)

As soon as I got back, I took out the leftovers from the bento shop from the refrigerator. I had initially planned to eat this yesterday in place of the meal provided, but….. It was left like this until now because Roka just had to bring an extra-large gift while we were preparing for the cafe event.

Urara: (Is it nearing the expiry date?)

…………

But even so, if I think it is edible, then it is edible. So I popped it in the microwave. I put the warmed side dish in my mouth along with white rice from the packet. However, the flavor of the fermented side dishes only added to the unsatisfying taste.

The next day—. After a longer run than usual, I decided to buy a drink from the first vending machine I saw to hydrate myself.

Urara: (...I prefer barley tea over water….. Or maybe I should go for a sports drink.)

(Should I try the one that said it contained BCAA...)

Child: Ughh... I'm thirsty...

Urara: ……

I turned around to the sound of weeping and saw a mother holding her child, coming this way in a panic.

Mother: Alrighty, just wait a moment, okay?

Urara: ……

I put away the coins I had taken out and left. Not long after, they arrived at the vending machine and bought a drink without any hesitation.

Mother: Here, apple juice. Let's go sit on the bench and drink it.

Child: Okay.

Urara: (.....The coast is clear.)

After watching them leave, I went back to buy a drink.

Urara: (BCAA.)

……….

(Jackpot, I get a freebie.)

Since I got lucky today, I chose a PET plastic bottle of tea, and shoved it into my pocket.

Urara: Hmm…..

(it's kind of troublesome to run with this in my pocket.)

Part 3

On the way home after a run.

Urara: (Still got nothing to eat. I should go grab something.)

The bento shop I know is just a stone's throw away. Just when I thought of going there….

A sprinkle of rain started to fall.

Urara: (Huh? It’s not in the forecast, is it?)

Bento shop employee: Welcome.

Urara: …….

As I entered the porch, the familiar voice of a familiar employee called out. I looked up at the sky, and the rain had already let up, almost as if it had never happened.

Urara: (So it came and went, just like that?)

I compared the bento sample with the daily menu written behind the cash register.

Urara: (The manager's recommendation is “Pork shabu with plum shiso sauce.”)

(For the daily special, it’s "Mackerel Nanban Bento")

……..

Mackerel Nanban Bento with tartar sauce.

Bento shop employee: Right away!

Bento shop employee: Sorry to keep you waiting. Here, your Mackerel Nanban Bento.

I put the money and point card on the counter.

Bento shop employee: If you come when it rains, you get double points. Here.

Urara: ...The rain’s already stopping.

Bento shop employee: Fufu. Even if it’s just for a brief moment, a rainy day is a rainy day at the end of the day.

…...Oh, you've saved up some points already. Want to exchange them for some freebie croquettes?

Urara: If that’s all right….

Bento shop employee: All right, I'll put some freshly fried ones in your bag.

I took my meal and turned away.

Bento shop employee: Please come again~

Urara: ……

I placed the bento I bought, along with, and the croquettes and tea I had unexpectedly gotten on the table.

Urara: (Should I eat the croquettes before they get cold?)

It’s good.

The balance between the batter and the potatoes made me unconsciously let out a voice.

Ring Ring

Urara: ……Kamiya?

Kamiya: "Oh, hello, Urara. We're having some drinks at the dorm after this, do you want to join?"

Urara: Not a chance.

Kamiya: "Huh? Did something good happen?"

Urara: Where did that come from?

Kamiya: "Hmm. Just a hunch?"

Urara: "Shut your trap.”

Urara: …….

I put my phone down and took another bite. Though it had started to cool, it was still delicious.

TL Note: BBCA = Branched Chain Amino Acid, PET = Polyethylene terephthalate

#break my case #buremai #joseimuke #Manami Urara #Kamiya #Hinomiya Akehoshi #Suoh Roka #Mikado Takeru

7 notes · View notes

cowboydisaster · 2 years ago

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes

part II: blackwater i

originally posted on 22 february 2023

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: you start to settle in with the gang, making some friends and some enemies. As you acclimate to your new life, parts of you miss the freedom of solitude, while a new feeling drives you towards companionship.

a/n: chapter two is here! For those of you that missed the post, I will be updating this series with a new chapter every wednesday. I'm super proud of this one. Thanks to @margowritesthings for being my beta reader, biggest supporter, and my ride or die

SERIES MASTERPOST

"The hell did you buy in there anyway? A book?" You ask, trotting closer to Arthur and Boadicea to peek over his reins. There's a little leather bound book in his hands that he angrily stuffs into his satchel. You’ve both just left the general store in Blackwater after picking up some supplies for the good of the camp. You have no money, but Arthur had brought camp funds to purchase supplies for everyone. While in the store, he’d found a small leather bound book, and you’ve been thinking about it since you both left the store.

"Ain't none of your business lady, now let's get back." He huffs, spurring Boadicea into a canter past the old withering Blackwater church. The sound of hooves on dirt is loud as you push the horse, gripping tightly onto the saddle horn for extra stability.

"Well if it's none of my business, you shouldn't have bought it in front of me. That's on you." You counter, curious if Arthur even knows how to read, let alone enjoys it. You’ve only been with the gang for three and a half days, but in that time you’ve been able to observe the other gang members. Mostly, you’ve stuck to yourself, eating and working alone unless Ms. Grimshaw makes you work with the girls. But in that time, all you’ve seen Arthur do is physical labor, like chopping wood, going out on jobs, or planning with Dutch and Hosea. You had wrongfully assumed he’s the type of man who only entertains himself with liquor, women and fighting. Every day you seem to be proving yourself more and more wrong.

"I bought it in front of you because I have to take you with me. You're like a goddamn pet, take my eyes off ya for a second and you're starting something. Dutch didn’t want you causin’ trouble so he told me to keep an eye on ya."

Fury bubbles in your chest at the new information. This is about that big ugly bastard, what's his name. The past few days you've spent at their camp all he's done is sleep, drink and annoy everyone. He hasn't changed his sweat stained blue flannel since you've been there, and his big brown draft horse has never left the hitching post. He had made some rather crass comments about Arthur bringing you back and you punched him right in the face for it. Nearly knocked him on his ass. It got an amused chuckle out of Arthur, but the other gang members weren't too pleased about you strutting into their camp and starting fights. He started it, you just finished it. But of course you, the newcomer, are to blame and now you need a babysitter.

"Gonna keep an eye on me, that's it? What- you're gonna sleep next to my bedroll too? Make sure I don't go out and start beating up the folk, even the ones that need it?" You growl, irritated with Dutch for giving you a chaperone, and at Arthur for being the chaperone.

"If that's what it takes to keep that damn temper under control then, sure" Arthur laughs.

"I guess I'd rather go buyin' romance novels with you then sittin' back there with some of those fools." You bite, cantering towards the opening of the camp.

"I- dammit woman, it ain't a book. It's a journal. Lost my old one some months ago in a fire. I saw this one and I just picked it up..." He says.

You're utterly shocked. He journals? A new little layer of this big tough outlaw falls away and you can peek into the man inside. He goes around saving women in distress and writes about his feelings? Well shit.

"Never took you for a writer, Mr. Morgan, but it suits you well. Maybe one day you'll have to let me peek in there, see what goes on in that head a you-"

You stop in your tracks at the sound coming from camp. It's a rat-like voice with a greasy, nasty vocabulary. He's yelling, harassing someone for something. It's an unfamiliar voice and you spur the buckskin faster after Arthur to find the source. Arthur doesn’t look entirely alarmed, more annoyed, as if he knows the voice. When he sees the worry on your face, he’s quick to respond.

"That's Micah… you steer clear of him, alright?" He asks, to which you don't answer.

As your horses slow, stepping into the camp, you hop down from the saddle, tossing your reins over the hitching post and jog into the open area filled with tents.

"The hells goin' on now? You've been back five goddamn minutes and your stirrin' up a ruckus." Arthur calls out from beside you.

A medium height, blonde man with a nasty smile and pale blue eyes turns around, running his fingers over his thick mustache. His red shirt is stained with what you assume to be the beer that he reeks of. It has filled his stomach, giving him a drinker’s gut and painting his nose with red blotches. Just the sight of him has you backing up a few steps.

"Awe, didntcha' miss me, Morgan?" He asks sarcastically, holding his arms out in mock disbelief.

Arthur sports a deep scowl as he glares at Micah, stepping towards him. It's then that Micah notices you standing beside Arthur. You're much shorter than him, but you hold your chin up high, shoulders pushed back. Micah’s lips curl up in an eerie smile as he runs his eyes over your body.

"Well who might you be, madam?" Micah sneers. Pure anger and aggression pump through your veins as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure. Then his eyes move around to the people in camp, lingering on Arthur's.

"She claimed? You Morgan's whore then? Say, you think he'll share you with me?" Micah laughs maniacally, bending back and resting his hands on his gun belt. His blonde hair is filthy, his teeth even more so, everything about this man repels you. He's a snake, a shifty rat and you can see it from a mile away.

"I ain't no one's whore." You squint, wishing to just take this bastard out and be done with it.

"Careful, Micah. She'll tear you a new one." Arthur warns, seemingly hoping that you will. God, he would love to watch you beat the shit out of Micah. He'd pay to.

Micah seems to be amused by this, laughing loudly and glancing around the camp to see if anyone heard Arthur. He doesn't believe for a fraction of a second that you could best him.

"I ain't afraid of an itty bitty lady," Micah steps forward, glancing down over you before shifting his eyes and addressing Arthur,

"She'd look real pretty on her knees for me, wouldn't she Ar-"

You knee him as hard as you can, right in the groin, causing him to bend at the waist and groan in pain.

"Y-You bitch!" He yells, right before you slip a pair of metal knuckles that were in your pocket over your fingers and punch him square in the cheekbone. The knuckles cut up his face, blood trickling down his cheek before he falls over, completely knocked out cold. You're a small woman, but with some little adjustments, you're stronger than the men. You slip the knuckles off, sliding them back into your pocket and tapping them for good measure.

"Tried to warn the bastard…" Arthur sighs, grabbing Micah by the feet and dragging him towards the outskirts of camp where he'll probably wake up later. You realize that you'd gained a bit of a crowd, blushing as you look around and see several pleased faces. You remember most of their names. The red haired Irishman, Sean steps over to you, proudly slapping you on the back with a huge grin.

"Ha! Ya knocked him right on his ass ‘tere! So much for an itty bitty lady, eh?"

A blonde haired woman, a little taller than you comes over with a big smile. She’s under the arm of a young gang member, you think Lennys his name.

“Well I’ll be damned! Hell yeah, It's good to see another badass woman around here, I was gettin’ tired of puttin’ all the boys in their place.” She laughs, pulling Lenny behind her and moving forward to hand you something. It's a five dollar bill, and you reach out to take it, confused.

“We had a bet that someone was gonna knock him out soon as he got back. Entertaining us with a show like that? You deserve it. I’d do anything to see that bastard get put down by a lady.”

You smile up at her, nodding to the stranger as you place the bill in your pocket.

“I'm Jenny by the way. Say, you're new as a shiny penny, figures these boys can't control themselves. Buncha assholes, especially Micah. He gets his fill of torture from all of us though, don't you worry miss." Jenny smiles at you, her blonde hair frames her freckled face beautifully.

"You wanna come officially meet the girls? We can get you set up, get you a tent and some new clothes. Figure you wanna get away from Mr. Morgan over there for the day, he's a sour bastard." Jenny yells the last part in Arthur’s direction so that he can hear.

“You’ll hear no argument from me on that account, ma'am.” Arthur quips, dropping Micah into the woods,

You eye Lenny and Jenny, a little unsure. It's hard for you to trust people, especially other outlaws but they seem kind enough. You turn your neck around to see Arthur, the only one you've really interacted with besides the two men you knocked out, and then you look back to Lenny and Jenny. They're both young and bright eyed, hopeful. It's a change you're grateful for, albeit not used to. What could be the harm?

"Alright then, the girls…" You whisper nervously. You've seen a few other women walking through the camp in the past four days, and they've eyed you with curiosity but none made a move to interact with you. You'll never show it but you're a bit nervous. You keep to yourself for the most part. You've had to because you have no one else. But that's changing.

You follow the two past a few tents, and to a wagon with a few boxes sitting around to be used as chairs. Wolf pelts and blankets are stacked into a makeshift bed on the ground under a hanging canvas. As you take in the little details of the camp, you don't miss the way Jenny and Lenny's hands intertwine, and you smile for it. It's apparent that someone has been through a lot of effort to make the camp homey. Fluffy pelts line the seats and chairs, beautifully decorated animal skulls top some of the tents and each person’s designated area is filled with their personal preferences and belongings. Pictures and books line the little tables and crates around the place and boxes of beer and whiskey as well. It really is a home.

There's a wagon with canvas material making a little lean to, and under it sit three girls. The first one to notice you has short blonde hair and a contagious smile. There's wonder in her eyes, and optimism.

"Well hi! We was wonderin' when we'd get to meet you, we could barely hold back from goin' over there but we didn't wanna push ya! Say, you’ve been here just four days and you’ve already knocked down the two biggest bastards here. First Bill and now Micah? I like you already!" The blonde haired girl says before adding, "Oh, I'm Karen by the way. And this is Marybeth and Tilly.” She adds, pointing towards the other girls who smile and wave coyly. The girl furthest from you with dark colored skin and braided hair that collects into a low bun, Tilly, speaks up.

“Don’t be shy, we don’t bite. Well Karen does, but only when Ms. Grimshaw comes around. Doesn’t seem like you’ll be dealing much with her though. You gonna run with the men like Jenny here?” Tilly asks, nodding towards Jenny. You notice the contrast in their attire. Tilly, Marybeth and Karen are wearing dresses, apparently you and Jenny are the only two women who work out of camp. You haven't thought much about what your role will be in the camp though.

“Uh, yeah I guess I will be. I haven’t thought about it much though, just gettin’ here and all…And I’m only stayin’ till I'm back on my feet, so I’ll do whatever needs done till I get enough money to head somewhere else.” You mumble, looking down to your raggedy clothes. The girls grow a little quiet, sensing your dilemma before Jenny speaks up.

“Well for now, you’re stuck with us! C’mon, we’ll get you some new clothes and have Ms. Grimshaw set you up a tent. I assume you’ll want a tent by Arthur, y’know with him bringing you in and all.”

— —

By nightfall you have three new pairs of jeans, two black and one blue, four new shirts, dark green, white, black and red, and a brand new pair of boots. They’ve accommodated you well, and you try not to think about your growing debt to the gang.

Your tent is nicer than anything you’ve had for a long while. It's a white canvas ‘A frame’ tent with a nice sized cot, a wardrobe and a nightstand. The girls have given you some blankets and items to decorate around the place and it looks good, it’s rather cozy. Currently you sit cross legged on the cot, writing in your journal. The soft glow of candlelight alongside the campfires outside provide enough light for you to write without straining your eyes. It's a beautiful night, and owls hoot as warm wind blows across the Great Plains, it's a perfect moment.

It’s the fourth day I've been here, but today was different. I met Jenny, and she introduced me to a few others. She’s a lot like me. Jenny doesn’t follow the rules, she makes her own way. I admire her for that. And Arthur? Well, I haven't seen much of him. He’s been working on some big job with Dutch, and they’re keeping it real quiet. Oh, and he journals too, he picked one up in town today. Never thought a man such as himself would take to journaling. There’s a heart in there somewhere, deep down as it may be. I guess he’s like me in that way…

You startle at the sound of a knock against the beam of your tent. You jump a little, reaching down to your holster before you realize it’s only Arthur.

“Shit, sorry. You scared the hell outta me. Ain’t used to livin’ with other people.” You laugh, folding your journal shut and tucking your pen into the book’s spine. Arthur is leaning against the tent beam with two bowls in hand, it looks like he’s washed up, probably in the lake or the river, but he's wearing a clean black stand collar shirt and a new pair of jeans. His wet hair drips a little, and the smell of soap travels to your nose.

“You’ll get used to it. Here, I brought ya some dysentery.” Arthur jokes, holding out a bowl of Pearson’s stew to you. You take it, grateful for it even though it tastes awful.

“Thanks. Here, come sit, keep me company.” You scooch to the other side of your cot, once again sitting cross legged.

“Well I ain’t no good company miss, I can promise you that, but sure.”

Arthur sits down on the cot, and it dips under his weight. He watches you out of the corner of his eye for a moment, then glances at your book while you both eat.

“So what were you writin’ in that book a’ yours?” Arthur asks, nodding towards your leather journal.

You crack a smile, prodding at the mushy soup with your spoon.

“You really wanna know? I'll show you mine, but you gotta show me what's in yours.” You offer with a raised eyebrow. Arthur’s cheeks glow a little red and he scratches at the back of his neck.

“Well I just got it today, and I ain’t put much in it yet.” Arthur says a little awkwardly. You take note of his embarrassment, and make a mental note to peek the next time he has it out.

“So how's it been so far? The camp I mean. Everyone treatin’ you well? I'm sure you’ll give ‘em hell if they don’t.” Arthur asks, looking to you, before bringing the metal bowl up to his lips and drinking down the broth left over in the bowl. You can’t help the smile that brightens up your features while you nod.

“It’s been good. Jenny’s real nice, I like her a lot. All the girls are kind too. I ain’t talked to much of anyone else, well besides Micah, is he alright by the way?” You ask, hoping you didn’t kill him. You don’t really care if the bastard is dead or not, but killing him on your fourth day in the gang would not help your chances of getting along with Dutch.

“I think he left for a while, didn’t wanna come back and be the camp idiot for gettin’ beat up by a little lady-” He starts before you interject.

“I ain’t a little lady.” You bite. Arthur chuckles, putting his hands up in mock surrender. He disagrees, you are a little lady, but he also wants to keep his head.

“Whatever you say, miss. I'm partial to keepin’ your fists far away from this old mug,'' Arthur's smile falters for a moment, and he looks over to you with sincerity, “but I'm glad to hear you’re settlin’ in alright.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond as you extend your arm to place the empty stew bowl on your nightstand. Arthur takes it out of your hand instead, standing up and stacking your dishes on top of his own.

“Well I’ll leave you to it, I don’t wanna take up anymore of your time,” He tips his head to you, “Goodnight miss.”

“G’night Arthur.” You watch his back as he leaves your tent and returns your dishes back to Pearson’s table.

You think of him as you dress down and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a long time since you’ve enjoyed someone’s company. He intrigues you. There's so many layers to Arthur Morgan, and you find yourself wanting to peel them back and discover the man at heart. You toss and turn in your bed, angrily fluffing your pillow and tearing your blankets off of your bare legs just to pull them back on again. Despite the new bed, and the tent, you find yourself longing for the freedom of the grass, you miss the stars.

With a sigh, you reach down onto the grass below your bed and grab your boots. You swing your legs over the edge and pull them on, not bothering to dress yourself half decent. The shirt you’re wearing is a man’s, it's huge on you, but Jenny figured it would make a good night shirt. The white shirt swallows your figure as you step out of your tent and into the night. Everyone has gone to bed already as you tiptoe to the outskirts of camp. There's a dark forest at the edge, and maybe it's your exhaustion, but you find it enticing. You walk through the grass, wishing that you could feel it on your feet. It’s only been four days, but dammit, you miss the freedom. Solitude can be a beautiful thing, you’ve found out. And even though you’re glad to have been saved by the gang, parts of you ache to return to the wilderness.

You slip your cowboy boots off, abandoning them on the ground between you and Arthur’s tent. They slump to the ground, spurs clicking as they hit the floor, and you step into the trees.

You pick wildflowers, humming and singing to yourself as you pluck their stems from the earth and add them to your collection. The breeze is warm and it flutters through your hair. A few times you feel eyes on you, but you dismiss them as animals lurking in the night. Some find the woods as eerie and unknown, but they’ve always been your home. You make a little bouquet of wildflowers, they're all different colors and sizes, and you hold them up to your nose and inhale that deep, specific scent. Lastly, you lay back on the grass, holding the flowers in your hands and look up to the stars.

“A coach and six white horses,”

You twirl a poppy between your fingers, bringing it up to your nose before you continue singing,

“Blacks and bays, dapples, and grays,”

You bring your knees up, crossing your legs as your hair splays out in the grass.

“All the pretty little horses…”

You’ve always been on your own, and this will be hard. Acclimating to a new place, with new people, and handing your control over to a new leader, all of it has you nervous, uneasy. You’re not sure how long you’ll stay. A part of you, the part that led you into the forest, begs for your freedom back. And yet a new feeling piques your interest as well, and it scares you. You look up at the constellations, tracing the big dipper with your eyes and grounding yourself with the familiarity. This new pull… it’s dangerous. You’ve distanced yourself from others for a reason, and yet here you are, breaking all of your rules.

—

Arthur’s eyebrows draw together as he leans up on his elbows in his cot. He’s been unable to sleep tonight, too distracted with the Blackwater job, and with you to get some shut eye. He’s stirred up by some quiet click noises, followed by some shallow singing. The song reaches his ears and immediately he recognizes it. It's “All the Pretty Little Horses,” a lullaby his momma used to sing to him when he was a kid. There’s some emotion there that he pushes down, sitting up to peek out of the open tent.

And there you are.

Arthur's smile is bittersweet as he watches you, laying in the grass in nothing but a goddamn shirt. Because of course you're the type to pick flowers, barefoot in the dead of night. Of course you’re the type to sing to the stars. He chuckles to himself, and doesn’t even think about it as he grabs his empty journal that he’d bought in the morning. He rests the leather book against his knee, leaning over to grab his pencil off his nightstand. As he does so, his eyes collide with the framed picture of Mary. Arthur sighs, gently grabbing the corner of the frame and tipping it so the picture lays face down.

“Long time ago now…” Arthur whispers, lingering over the photo for a moment before grabbing his pencil.

He doesn’t think, he just draws, starting with your legs that are crossed over each other, your torso and the flowers in your hand, and then your face and hair as you look up to the stars. He hums along lowly with your singing as he finishes up his sketch. There’s an incredible amount of detail to the picture, and he tries not to think about why that is as he adds a note to his sketch.

She’s a lot like the stars in a way, I’ve realized. A force, fiery and burning as a flame, not to be reckoned with. She’s got no ties, she’s on her own. And yet she’s kind, singing and picking flowers in the middle of the damn night. She's something else, that woman.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic

201 notes · View notes

palmtreesx3 · 1 year ago

Text

Act 1 - Foreplay

Aphrodisiac (Robin's Chapter)

<- Previous Chapter || Next ->

Series Masterlist

Get in the mood for this installment:

Series Playlist

Aphrodisiac Mood Board

Summary: (6.8K) The pair are settling in at The Hideout but not without some bumps in the road, and are exploring the city and sampling a bit of all that it has to offer. Steve is trying hard to find things that he likes to do and he's totally baffled to see Robin so effortlessly spreading her wings. Robin's got a date. A real legitimate, public date and she quickly gets fixated. Meanwhile Steve's got another lonely evening by himself. The pair - well maybe just Robin - gets in the mood in this Robin-centric installment of Act 1.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex toys and self-exploration, female masturbation, shop talk, fluffy affection, LGBTQ acceptance (which isn't much of a warning, it's a goddamn right), self-loathing, mild depression and *you* make your first appearance.

Almost-July, 1993

What Robin failed to consider when wagering a digital pet bet with Steve Harrington is that this boy was born and raised competitive. She forgot that in the Harrington household "lose" wasn't in their vocabulary. She also forgot just how forgetful she is. Ironic. So it should have been no surprise that in the last 24 hours, her Tamagotchi has been sick three times and was always beeping incessantly.

"Rob, you're a horrible mother. You're gonna owe me 5 drinks before we even get our first paycheck." Steve gloats, tucking his healthy, happy, bouncing pet into his pocket before sitting down to lace up his sneakers.

Meanwhile, Robin who is shoving her feet unceremoniously into her Chucks ignores the shit talking and dishes out some of her own. "Dude, we have to do something about this." She kicks her chin in his direction as he smooths out his clothes.

"What?" Steve snaps back.

"I can't believe you still dress like that. Honestly. 1984 called, they want their Sears Catalog back."

"Ok Robin, sorry I didn't know you also got a job as the fuckin fashion police."

"I'm just saying, small town Indiana polo fashion ain't gonna cut it in the big city, boy. You wanna keep bagging hotties like you did the other weekend, we'll have to do something. You don't have to dress for mommy anymore." And as she says the last bit she immediately winces "Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean … "

"No it's okay, Rob. I know what you're trying to say. Maybe. Maybe once we have some extra money I'll get something new. You can help me. Deal?"

After a few weeks of exploring, Robin and Steve have zeroed in on quite a few of their own places. A bench they prefer in the nearby park, nestled in the shade of a swaying willow tree; a greasy corner store that sells the best breakfasts to sop up what's left of an evening out; an arcade that makes them nostalgic and think of the kids at home and gives them something to talk about when they call; and this place - a nice little coffee shop tucked in between towering complexes and quaint stores just one block over from their place. There are always records playing of the baristas favorite bands, the coffee is good and strong and cheap and they're always open when they need it.

Steve and Robin have gone to the coffee shop almost daily since they found it. But this time Robin was out on an errand herself so she popped in on her own to grab two cups to-go and bring back to the apartment, where Steve, no doubt, was still sleeping. Perusing the wall of records in rotation while she waits for her order, Robin is startled by a quiet voice beside her, whispering closer in her ear than she's used to from a stranger. "This week it's good stuff, huh? I'm loving The Smashing Pumpkins new one." the voice says.

Robin's eyes dart to her left and quickly back up to the wall of vinyls, the stranger's proximity and attention making her squirm just a bit. "My last .. girlfriend. She was into all the pop stuff. Not really my vibe, ya know." And at that, Robin's eyes rise to meet the womans who is standing next to her. There's not much that can actually shut Robin Buckley up, but here's a few: a really fuckin' beautiful girl, eye contact and someone casually talking about their sexuality. It was the perfect storm.

Robin bit her plump, pink lips and nodded at the stranger, feeling a little ridiculous at the interaction so far. What is she supposed to say? Do I ask her about her ex- GIRLFRIEND? Do people really talk that openly here in the city? I don't even know her name! Robin's voice may be silent but her brain is going a mile a minute.

"Alex." The stranger says. Just as the barista shouts Robin! Your order is up! in the background.

As Robin reaches across the counter for the two steaming cups, Alex counters "And I'm assuming you, are in fact Robin." with a grin. "No boyfriend today?" She says, and as Robin's eyes twist in confusion, she pipes up again "No no, I'm sorry, I'm not being weird I swear. I just come here a lot and I've seen you guys. Nothing freaky I promise."

"No." Is all Robin awkwardly says, totally deadpan.

Alex waits for more, but nothing comes. After a moment she chuckles, picking up her own cup of tea and raising it to her lips to take a sip, but not before whispering out "No, what?" in a question.

"Ha. No. No he's not my boyfriend." Robin says as she plays with the hem of her denim cutoff shorts.

"Ah, too bad. He's a hottie." Alex shrugs and Robin stands confused. It's happening before she knows it started and Robin's dumpster fire of a brain starts rambling.

"Wait. What? No he's not my boyfriend he's my roommate and yeah we come here, we're still kinda new in town. We're actually from a small town - Hawkins - but what… I'm sorry I thought you said your ex-girlfriend liked pop music so… "

"Yeah. That's what I said." Alex takes another nonchalant sip of her steaming mug.

" So .. but Steve. He's… " Robin stutters out.

"Well he is hot isn't he?" The woman counters.

"I mean, yeah I guess. He has no trouble with the ladies if that's what you mean. Always Mr god-damned Popular cause he has perfect fuckin' hair but I swear they should see him in the morning, it's not all rainbows and butterflies then!" and the words just keep spouting out of her mouth uncontrollably.

Alex looks on at her, almost endearingly, as she lets her go and spit it all out. "You done?" She asks.

Robin nods, mutters an apology for her rambling and starts to head towards the door "I should go. Nice to meet you, Alex."

She shuffles her steps quickly in an attempt to bolt as far away as she can from the pretty girl who she just made a fool of herself in front of. God, I'm gonna have to tell Steve we need to find a new coffee place. Shit.

"Wait! Wait, sorry. I can be intense." Alex muses, kicking her feet at the chair next to where they stand, before looking back at Robin's flushing face. "Yes, I did say ex-girlfriend. I also said your whatever he is is hot. I'm not stalking you, I just must get my tea when you guys get your coffee and, I hope I don't make you totally run off in terror when I say this next part, but I'm gonna anyway - I have just been distracted by you guys. I thought you were both pretty hot and I was distracted by the coffee shop couple every time I'm here. You were solo today so I thought I'd break the ice. Sorry. I hope I'm not making this weird "

Robin's mouth is absolutely hanging open right now.

"Yeah, so the tables turned pretty quickly and I'm thinking I'm the one that should be embarrassed right now so, hopefully I see hot coffee shop couple around and I didn't totally scare you away from this place. "

"Oh God, no. The coffee is too good and too cheap for us to stop coming here. He's not my boyfriend. Steve is 100% my roommate and that's it, no coffee shop couple here. Yeah, he's hot but don't you ever tell him that. Christ, he doesn't need a bigger ego. And the last time I talked to a girl like you I think I peed my pants, so excuse me I'm going to go hurl myself off the Willis Tower, if that's okay with you?"

Alex lets out a deep laugh. A genuine one. She reaches out to touch Robin's forearm, to keep her there… or ground her, she's not sure which. "Please don't. I can't have you falling if it's not for me." and at that Robin's eyes go wide as saucers. "Are you free tomorrow? Maybe we could get dinner? Downtown. Meet here so it's not weird and sketchy first…that is, if your hot roommate doesn't mind I borrow you for a bit?"

She's stunned. Robin has never been asked out on a date before. Is this a date? Holy shit.

She musters up every ounce of courage she has to smile and nod. "I get off work at 6, so can we make it 7?" Only to be interrupted in that moment by the shrill chirping on her keychain signifying yet another dead digital pet.

A wide, sparkling smile spreads on Alex's face as she starts to head out the door, turning back to shout out "7:00, meet you here. Can't wait! "

And as soon as the bell on the door dings and she's sure it's shut, her brain starts catching up and Robin drops both cups of coffee on the floor.

Today, Murray is not entertained by Steve. Usually the banter between the pair has remained humorous and for the most part, friendly. Today Steve is just pissing him off.

First Steve dropped an entire shipping box of condoms, spilling single wrapped rubbers all over the floor. It took him an hour and twenty three minutes and three side-eyeing customers stepping over him to clean them all up. Then Steve knocked over the mannequins like dominoes after he struggled with the BDSM display Murray assigned to him for the second part of their shift. Robin snickered as Murray delegated the task to Steve, knowing damn well it was just to make the boy suffer. Robin watched gleefully, sitting at the register, resting her chin in her hand as Steve grumbled through the entire task. At one point, he was fumbling so much with all of the straps and buckles and ties that before he knew it the head of the mannequin he was attempting to gag toppled off its shoulders and knocked three other mannequins down in its wake. All Steve could do in response was throw the ball gag to the side as he stormed off, yelling back "Tell that asshole I took my 15! I'll deal with the bondage when I get back!"

As he marches off in anger, Murray does in fact slide over and lean down next to Robin. "How's Casanova doing? BDSM not his thing, I see?" He chuckles. Robin cocks a sideways grin at him shaking her head. "He doesn't even know what his thing is, Murray. He's just a lost little puppy."

"What about you, Red. You doing good?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. I think he's stressed because he's not really finding his thing. He's used to things coming easy for him and they're just… not here."

"What does Mr Hometown Heroes' emotional journey have to do with how you're doing, huh?"

"A lot, actually. He's absolutely a bumbling fucking idiot, but he is the kindest person I've ever known. He has a weird way of showing it, but that's because his parents are Grade A assholes. He's been more supportive to me than anyone on this planet and I am trying so hard to help him but I don't know how."

"Well, Red, this is a journey of lifelong self-discovery. Ya gotta learn to love thyself before you can love another. That goes for both of you, ya know?" and with that, he pushes off the glass countertop and saunters back to his office while humming an indistinguishable tune.

When Steve returns from his break Robin recognizes the look on his face. It's the one that comes back ready with his head in the game after an excruciatingly awkward pep talk he gave himself - out loud. If anything, all those years of organized sports at least gave him a method to get himself back on track.

That's why it was so abysmal to watch as he confidently tried to help a young customer, flowing brunette hair curled and brushed out into bouncy ringlets, asking in a tiny voice behind batting eyes to be pointed in the direction of the Ben Wa.

"Oh yeah, I got you covered on this! Haven't been here long and I never heard of those before our manager got one for us and just the other day I stopped in at this place that looked interesting… "

The customer's eyes narrow, not sure where Steve is going with this conversation just as Murray joins in next to Robin to watch the drama unfold. He brought popcorn this time and was audibly chomping on it with an open mouth behind a gaping smile. "I gotta see where he's going with this." Tilting the bag towards Robin in an offering as they watch.

"Yeah, so if you just go down the block a few more streets you'll see a place on the corner. It actually says Ben Wa on the window, so you will definitely see it when you get there. I was surprised at how much I liked it!" Steve says to the miffed young lady as she is heading for the door. "Have a great day! Enjoy!" Steve yells after her.

"What the hell man! Where'd you send the good paying customer!" Murray outstretched his arm towards the door before reaching into his bag to throw a kernel of popcorn right square into Steve's forehead.

"What the fuck, Murray. She wanted to know where to get a fuckin sandwich. Last time I checked we don't sell sandwiches!" He yells as he spins his outstretched arms from left to right, showing off the wares inside the shop.

"A sandwich? You fuckin' small town nincompoop, no! Ben Wa. Ben Wa balls. She wanted to put 'em up her coochie you idiot!"

Beet red from holding back, Robin finally lets out a cackle that fills the entire store. "Oh my God, someone get me a white board! You gotta be shitting me. This is better than watching him sink at Scoops, hands down."

"Wa-what are you talking about? Ben Wa - like the sandwich from that Korean place? You got it for us for lunch three days ago!"

"Oh for the love of God. You're pretty but you're dumb. BAHN MI. Say it with me BAAHHHN MEEEE" he overemphasized.

"I-i… well.. what… what the fuck man! I don't know!"

Meanwhile, Robin is on the floor with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

After Robin gets her shit together and Steve returns to his normal shade of sun kissed peach, ever the educator, Murray fills the pair in on what the customer was actually looking for. Pulling them over to a display case in the rear, a menagerie of colorful metallic, glass and silicone balls are laid out for viewing. All the sizes as big as or smaller than an egg, Murray explains both their practical use as well as how they can be used for pleasure.

"See some ladies come looking for these after they have a baby, nothing to do with getting off… for now at least … everything to do with tightening things back up again. Just a run of the mill afternoon at the vaginal gym shesh." Steve grimaces as the analogy but nods in understanding. "Girls …or guys - might use them to stretch themselves out a bit and train their holes." Robin looks on, fully engaged and taking all the information in earnest. "They have little weights inside though, so if you're wearing them for a while or they're jostling around there's a whole lotta movement in there if you know what I mean. A few tugs on those strings and you got yourself a party."

The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, but gnawing at the back of Robin's mind are a bright red pair of Ben Wa balls from the display case, round and smooth and silicone, shaped like two cherries on a lime green stem. She's never owned a toy before, and she's feeling kind of intrigued, so while Steve is in the employee room gathering his things and clocking out, Robin seizes the opportunity to pull the toy from the case and ring it up quickly. She rings up the amount, and hastily keys in her employee discount before slipping them into her satchel just before Steve returns to the floor.

Robin has increasingly spent her free time idling around town and making her own discoveries. She finds herself often at a community park enjoying some local outdoor music that pops up regularly on the weekends and has stumbled upon a vintage bookshop a few doors down from the coffee place that she has made a comfortable home in their reading nook a few days a week while also making fast friends with the laid back cashier there on the weekends.

Meanwhile Steve has failed at any attempt to casually find something he likes to do on his own and, as evident today at work, there's something that's got him stressed and Robin thinks this is it. He tried to join her at the community park, but he has yet to get into any of the music they're playing and he joined her once at the bookstore when she excitedly wanted to share her big find with her friend, but he just didn't get the hype after sitting there thumbing through a book he had no interest in actually reading. The apartment doesn't have any cable, and there's only so much coffee shop and Tamagotchi a guy pushing 30 can handle. Needless to say, city life isn't coming as naturally for Steve as it is for Robin and that is throwing him for an absolute loop.

After a long talk on the fire escape over a cigarette, Robin actually had some wise insight into Steve's problem. "Dude, it's because you don't have any hobbies! Tell me one thing you've ever done because you chose to do it?"

"Robs, I played sports for years! Of course I have hobbies!"

"No. That's not what I mean. Who signed you up for those? Who made sure you made the varsity team your first year? Who told you to run laps? Do you still play them now? Just cause you convinced yourself you liked it, doesn't mean you actually did."

And that resonated with Steve. He thought about why he actually liked all the baseball, all the nights on the basketball court and all the swim meets - it wasn't because he actually liked the sports, he liked how it made him feel to win. For his dad to give a shit every once in a while. For his teammates to need him. So Steve stayed up late that night, gazing at the stars on that fire escape and thinking long and hard about how he has spent his time - team sports that his dad got him into that eventually made himself feel useful, dialing up radio stations that played music he heard at other people's parties and cassette tapes of other people's favorite songs in his glove compartment, cooking meals that he has to or else he wouldn't be fed.

The only damn thing he ever chose to do himself was watch out for those godforsaken kids back home and even through all his griping about them, it was always worth it. But driving a bunch of preteens around doesn't constitute an interest. "Fuck man, I don't even know myself." He muses into the late night sky, taking one last long drag before closing the window behind himself and idling off to bed.

The next day, the two had a late start at The Hideout, and Robin threw her satchel over her shoulder while yelling out to Steve "Dingus, I'm going out to the bookshop for a bit. Need anything while I'm out?"

"Nah Robs, I'm good."

"Kay - don't miss me while I'm out and you're home sulking!" She pokes, and the door clicks shut behind her leaving him in the quiet. Steve reaches for the radio and as he dials the station over to filter out the static and he's immediately back to thinking about last night. Why am I even putting on this station? I don't even think I like these songs, do I? He thinks to himself. So Steve sets out that morning to try and figure something out about himself.

Inspired by the records displayed every week at the coffee shop, Steve finds himself fingering through bins of Vinyls at a record shop he found as he walked about the neighborhood. "Anything we can help you with, man?" the employee asks as he approaches.

" Uh yeah. Actually I think…I mean, I think I want to get some records."

" Oh bud, happy to help! What are you into and what kind of player do you have?"

Steve stares at the man, stubble on his jawline, in a fitted yellow Queen T Shirt that looks worn and soft coupled with his ripped denim. A man that looks like he knows what he likes. Steve's stare is blank and he's absolutely at a loss. "I'm sorry, I have no idea. I should go."

"My brother, music is for everyone. Let me hook you up and we'll figure it out. No need to stress."

The man spends the next hour showing Steve how to use a basic model record player. They try out a few different vinyls to see what he might like. After a while, the pair have a stack piled up next to the record player - Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Tears for Fears, Red Hot Chili Peppers and a few others littered with popular music and rock artists he didn't really know by name before - and Steve is checking out.

As he's getting ready to hand over a stack of cash to the man that helped him discover what kind of music he likes, they're interrupted by a deep hum, "Now that's a nice stack you got there." Steve turns around and is a little taken aback by what he sees. It's you…and you're standing there all casual and comfortable, looking very at ease in the record shop. "Hey Brian. What's up?" You nod in the kind man's direction.

"Hey hot stuff, I got what you came for back here. Just let me finish up with this guy and I'll get you taken care of. "

"Hi" Steve waves in your direction. "I'm sorry." No one quite sure what he's actually apologizing for in the least.

"No need to be sorry, you were here first. I just came to pick up the new Pearl Jam record and I am in absolutely no rush."

"Pearl Jam?" Steve questions.

"Yeah man. Eddie Vedder? You might actually like it, all things considered." The man named Brian motions to the eclectic stack Steve has accumulated during his visit.

Looking back at you standing there, not impatiently, just smiling brighter than the sun, he mutters "Yeah cool. Yeah I mean, if you have another can I add that? I'll give it a try."

And as Steve loads up his wares in his arms and turns to leave, your charismatic smile finds him one last time, " I hope you like it… ." You draw out waiting for him to fill in the blank.

"Steve." He finishes for you.

You nod, "I hope you like it, Steve"

The next night at the apartment, Robin is gearing up for her date and she is absolutely in her head about it. She has asked Steve one hundred times today if he's sure this is a date. "But Stevie's she .. I really think she might just want to hang out and be friends."

"Robin, I swear to Christ if you don't just STOP this." Steve sucks in a clipped breath before continuing on. "It's a date. I'm one hundred percent sure this girl asked you on a date and you're going. Relax, please! Fuck, you're stressing me out and I have nothing to do with any of this!" Steve shouts for the last time tonight, leaving Robin in the bathroom doorway, staring at herself in the mirror trying to make herself presentable.

Through the damp hair falling into her vision and the steam still speckling on the mirror after her shower, the girl is trying desperately to hype herself up and get ready to spend time with Alex. But Robin is not a confident creature. She's starting to feel herself crawl back inside the cave forged deep in her personality and carved into the bedrock of Hawkins, Indiana. "I gotta fuckin' snap out of this." She says to her reflection, splashing water on her face and retreating back to her bedroom.

She hears the new and welcome sound of vinyl scratching from Steve's bedroom, before the reverberation of Fleetwood Mac's The Chain blares loudly through the walls. She sighs, sitting there still wrapped in her towel from after her shower, mind wandering to Alex and her tall, thin frame. Still not sure how a girl like that was referring to her as the hot one, Robin's thoughts drift to the deep black of the woman's mascara, fanning her eyelashes out and emphasizing her deep green eyes. She thinks about how she was too much of a spaz to appreciate the curve of her cupid's bow and she's still not sure if she was imagining the softness of the swell of her hips or not.

Mixed up in thought, Robin's forearms graze the front of her towel and the rough material scratches at her exposed nipples underneath. She lets out a wispy gasp, not realizing just how turned on she was until that second. Her mind is racing. She looks at the clock and sees she has 20 minutes until she needs to head downstairs to the shop to meet Alex. Immediately she eyes her bedside table, knowing those deep red, cherry Ben Wa balls are sitting just inside. She thinks about what Murray has been saying and all of his preaching about “loving thyself before you can love another, Red!" and with one last racing thought of the woman who actually wants to take her on a date… out in public, she's clamoring for the drawer.

She has never been more grateful that Steve has picked up a new interest, and that it was a loud one, because as she lets the towel draping her body loosen while she's leaning back into her soft cotton pillowcases she lets out a soft whimper before she's even touched herself once. Robin tentatively lets her soft hands and glossy nails trace the outline of her slit, delicately rubbing and pressing on where she needs it most and experimentally flicking the hood of her clit. After considering things one last time, she purses her eyes closed tight and holds her breath as she guides one of the cherry balls inside her opening.

The gasp that leaves her throat this time isn't soft and quiet and she finds herself gyrating and writhing as she rubs and tugs at the cherry stems attached to her toy. The weights inside are rolling and undulating just like Murray said they would, sending vibrations up and back down her body. Robin feels filthy, thinking about Alex as she uses her free hand to rub at her clit while still pressing in and tugging at the ball with her other, but not filthy enough to deny how much she is enjoying this game she is playing with herself.

Robin's eyes are rolled back in her head as her orgasm rushes over her, the weights of the ball continuing to move and rattle inside coax her through her comedown. Thighs shaking and breath stuttering, she lets out a deep sigh "Holy fuckin' shit. I love my job."

Fumbling and running late after her little self-love session, Robin bounds through the doors of the coffee shop a little dramatically. As part of her grand entrance, she knocks her hip into the chair of the two-top situated right inside the entryway and doubles over at the pain. "Shit." She means to whisper, but instead says at a volume loud enough to reach the back of the shop, and if the entrance alone didn't alert Alex to her arrival, she certainly would have heard that.

The barista greets Robin cheerfully by name just as Alex walks up to greet her with her hand outstretched, coffee cup there as an offering to break the ice. "I thought you might need a pick me up after work. She hooked me up with your usual order, so… "

Robin feels her freckles burn at the gesture, like they do after a day at the lake in the sun. She catches Alex's eyes scanning her body and she feels her chest flush, no doubt accentuated by the emerald green satin tank that's cut a bit lower than she usually ventures. The deep color making her hair, her eyes and her fair skin pop, covered by a cropped denim jacket DIY frayed at the edges has definitely caught her date's eye.

"I wanted to pop into this Gallery I really love, if you don't mind indulging my creative side tonight? It's a great spot and… there's a graphic artist showing there now I just gotta check out before it's gone. It's this amazing social commentary on pregnancy as a lesbian. Like a totally butch lesbian decides to get pregnant with her partner, so what now? It's just… I gotta see it. The diversity at this place is phenomenal."

Robin's wide eyes are not white in astonishment this time, but instead they're with pure intrigue and reverence. Knowing that not only are there people like her in this city, but enough people that feel the same or respect it enough to go to an art gallery to check out doodles about a pregnant butch lesbian and it's not the butt of a homophobic joke is… enthralling to her. She nods vehemently "Hell yeah, that sounds… really amazing. I mean… I'm not used to that kind of transparency, so, yeah. Let's do it."

And as they turn to leave the shop, coffee and tea in respective hands, Robin feels the tickle of a finger brushing her open palm. Barely registering what is happening, she finds herself in a brief yet unnecessary panic as she feels Alex's hand settle in, intertwined with hers. She can't help but scan her surroundings for passerby oggling the two women holding hands and walking down the sidewalk, but she saw not one the whole walk down the block to the train platform. The thrill of holding a pretty lady's hand out in public is sending tingles up her spine, or maybe it's the gentle, internal humming of the Ben Wa balls she opted to keep inside for the evening, but Robin could definitely get used to this. She smirks at herself as they ascend the steps towards the incoming train and asks curiously,"So tell me, what's this artist's name?

Meanwhile, Robin just missed Steve on the same platform not 10 minutes earlier. Shortly after Robin finally headed out, Steve found himself standing in the kitchen staring at a barren refrigerator - nothing more than a carton of milk, some OJ and a row of eggs left in there for him to choose from. He tries not to be irritated at his current situation, but he can't help the groan he lets out as he reaches for the phone, readying himself to order way too much pizza for one lonely guy on his couch late at night.

Before he finishes dialing he shakes his head, thinking about how he doesn't have to keep himself cooped up here. He has done so much on his own, but all of that was such a… necessity. Is it really that crazy to go off and do something alone without it being totally pitiful? "I mean, Robin goes places by herself all the time." He muses to himself.

So that's how he found himself hopping off the train downtown and wandering into the first restaurant that looked reasonable and … good. Not just food but something he might actually enjoy tasting. It's a quaint Italian place. Authentic, by the looks of it. Walls lined with corked bottles of olive oil and limoncello, twinkle lights strewn over the white lattice work ceiling, the unmistakable smell of carbohydrates and garlic.

This is yet another something he hasn’t ever done before. Not just a quick bite or a fast food, but instead going out to a proper restaurant and sitting down for a real meal. Solo. Alone. Alone but NOT lonely, he thinks. In the past 24 hours since Robin pointed out that he never does anything for himself that he enjoys, he has done a lot of introspection and has made it a point to seek out new experiences hoping something will stick. Sitting at the cozy little restaurant place downtown adorned with faux plants, and filled with tables of other guests, he finds himself so grateful to have Robin’s perspective and support. So instead of worrying about how he's not sharing the table with a date, or Robin or anyone else for that matter, he's toasting to her, in absentia.

On the other side of town, Robin and Alex find themselves tucked into a booth at a dimly lit, definitely more trendy than she’s ever experienced before in her life, kind of bar. Alex has the table filled with an assortment of bites to eat and has ordered up all of the bartender's signature drinks on a mission to get Robin to broaden her horizons and shake that small town dust off of her coattails. “Ok, so, we have to find something here that you’re into. You can’t just tell me warm beer or straight shots are your drinks of choice - every city girl’s gotta have their go-to cocktail.”

Robin first confidently grabs at the Manhattan from the selections laid out in front of hrr, recognizing the deep amber of the liquid and the familiar smell of whiskey that reminds her of Steve. It is quickly after she brings it to her lips that she sputters it back out, spraying the cocktail over her hand and most likely, her date. Alex says nothing about it, eyeing the ruby red blush on Robin’s cheeks and chest, but she stifles a small laugh before she says “Got it. No whiskey cocktails. Check. Here, here…cleanse your palate.” She says, handing her a small plate filled with creamy green, roasted artichokes splayed out like a lotus flower. “They’re the best in the city. Stuffed artichokes - ya know? They’re my favorite. Doesn’t hurt that they’re an aphrodisiac, huh?”

And if Robin hadn’t already spit out that whiskey drink, she definitely would have at that. So bold. So brazen. Dumbfounded that even at how blatant Alex has been with her flirting all night, it didn’t prepare her for that comment and the implications it held behind her eyes. And when Robin didn’t move to immediately grab a bite, Alex instead responded by picking up a delicate stuffed petal and holding it out to Robin’s pillowy lips, urging her to open up. She tentatively parted those lips and took a bite, wide-eyed at the flavor and simultaneously at the way Alex’s eyes remained locked on hers.

Before the end of the date, Robin had successfully spilled a cup of water, knocked over the salt shaker and tried sips of 6 different cocktails before she settled in with a bright orange and red drink in a highball glass, lips wrapped around the straw and playing with the stem of the cherry hanging over the side of her glass. “This one is definitely a winner.” She grins, as she turns to look at Alex, excited to have found something that she likes while simultaneously excited that she finds she doesn’t really care that she did no less than 10 embarrassing things on this date anymore. She doesn’t feel embarrassed in the least and that is still a pretty new feeling for her.

“Why am I not surprised? I should have known.” Alex laughs out.

Robin shrugs, a questioning look in her eye as she sucks down the last of the drink, rattling the ice as the straw drains the cup of the last of it, loud enough to turn a head in the booth next to theirs when she forgets she’s someplace a certain level of chic that Hawkins must repel just by its sheer podunk nature.

Alex leans in close, right next to Robin’s ear to whisper, but makes sure she pulls back just as quickly to watch the flush spread over her freckled face like she knew it would “I should have known you’d like Sex on the Beach.” Sealed with a wink.

And with that, the ice wasn’t the only thing rattling anymore, as Robin is keenly reminded as she feels the shudder travel up and down her spine that she chose to keep those Ben Wa balls.

"And she said what to you? Oh yeah, your date wants to get in your pants. For SURE.” Steve said as the cool edge of a frosted mug hit his tongue. It was a long day at The Hideout and they barely had time to shoot the shit between odd jobs and a colorful group of customers, and Robin got in so late last night that he didn’t even get to grill her about her date when she rolled in. Disregard the fact that Steve was tucked soundly in his bed after a nice warm belly full of pasta and red wines (who knew, he liked red wine? He sure didn’t). After such a long day, and the bet hanging in the air, the pair stumbled upon a local dive bar on their walk home and that’s where they find themselves now - unwinding and finding themselves totally relaxed in the warm, dimly lit and unceremonious Benny’s Taproom.

“God, Steve, I don’t want to talk about it!”

“What do you mean, you don’t want to talk about it? You owe me three drinks and you’ve gotta spill your guts, Robbie.”

“Ahhh, I don’t want to hear about the bet, Steve! I’ve been a little distracted. My keychain has been the least of my worries, genius.”

“Excuses, excuses.” he winks, the beer tasting even better knowing it was his prize for caring for his tamagotchi much better than his friends, just as he suspected. Robin cycled through three whole pets so far, while Steve’s has grown into a thriving, young thing and he gloats about it every moment he can. “Now, spill it. I need to know the details about your date, Robin. Stop avoiding this.”

As they sit there arguing over digital pets and sharing (or avoiding) stories of their night prior, a gravely ahem comes from over the bar as the gruff, stone faced and bearded man behind it places his hands wide on the counter in front of the two friends. “If you’re in my bar, drinking my drinks, then you gotta share, missy. This place is boring lately, and you guys are fresh meat, so please…entertain us with your stories. I gotta live for something around here.” he sternly says to the two, before he smiles wide and says “If you’re here, you’re family, so listen to your friend and give us the scoop, for God sakes!”

Robin tells them about her first date - about all of the coy flirting, about all of the embarrassing things that didn’t feel so terribly embarrassing in front of her date, about all of the appetizers and cocktail tastings, about the menu items spread out on their table with double entendres and that Alex kept ordering things she kept referring to as Aphrodisiacs “I swear I thought aphrodisiac was another word for Oysters, and then I thought that it meant something sexual just because … oysters. They’re like…ya know.” as she blinks her eyes downwards to her lap.

“Oh honey, he is into you.” Jim breathes out as he adjusts to lean back against the sink with his arms crossed.

Maybe it was Robin’s tight-lipped smile in response to that, or maybe it was how Steve gargled his last sip of beer right back into the mug before setting it down on the ratty old, stained coaster on the bar, but Jim’s eyes flitted between the pair looking for the information he must certainly be missing.

“Ah!” He claps his hands together as he takes Steve’s mug, swirls it around eyeing the backwash, throws it in the sink and fetches another one. He immediately moves over to the tap to refill it while noting “Alex…. He’s a she…isn’t she?”

Jim leans over the bar, braced on his elbows and spends the next twenty minutes telling her that she's just had a taste of what the city has to offer. .. a taste of dating. A taste of Alex. And if she's feeling like that - if one taste is making her feel so so good, it's worth embracing it and diving right in.

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss

The artist referenced in this Chapter is A.K. Summers who did, in fact host an exhibit at a Chicago Gallery in 1993. See her work Pregnant Butch here

120 notes · View notes