#Fitter Bars

[batteriescastlehill]

What Are The Benefits Of Using A Re-gas AC System For Your Car?

Whether it’s chilling winter or scorching summer, you need to ensure that the AC of your vehicle functions well. To ensure full comfort, you need to make sure that you maintain your car's air conditioning system regularly. Also it’s essential that re gas Ac is appropriately done. This process is vital to keep the refrigerant well replenished. Thus, it will confirm the car's excellent efficiency and optimal performance. So, let’s get deeper to understand why it’s important to re-gas AC of the vehcile.

An adequate level of refrigerant is a must for excellent cooling 

The well-ac of your car must maintain its refrigerant level. It is the spine of the AC, which helps absorb heat from the cabin and release it outside. With time, the refrigerant level depletes, and that is due to minor leakage. This leads to decreased heating or cooling. But yes, with the re-gas Ac system, you can ensure that the refrigerant system is at its peak. 

Regarding prevents unwanted strain on AC 

It’s true that once the AC gas starts to deplete, it puts unwanted pressure on the AC of your vehicle. The compressor, the central part of the AC, fails to work seamlessly. It becomes difficult for it to reach that desired temperature level. Thus that causes the wear and tear of the AC. It also questions the durability of the AC. But with re-gassing you can ensure that the expensive repairs can be avoided.

Efficiency of the fuel is highly Maintained to the tee 

With a re-gas AC system, you can ensure that car fuel's efficiency is maintained at its best. An AC system with overworking features will consume more fuel. It will make the vehicle operate smoothly. This will save both your money and fuel in the long run. 

Final talk 

Thus, the above lines tell the importance of re-gas ac of your vehicle. Besides these, you can call for the Bar Fitter or Engine light Diagnosis for a comprehensive car check-up.

[macallai]

i can now do two entire pull-ups!! i am on my way to getting ripped cannot wait

[luveline]

jadey!! would you ever write something for spencer where reader gets tipsy/drunk and is all over him? i just think he would be so cute and flustered, especially if she isn’t usually this forward with him (either established relationship or mutual crushing!)

thanks for your request lovely♡ —you really want spencer to be your boyfriend. fem!reader, 1k

The smell of your lip balm is the very first thing Spencer acknowledges, rather than the soft press of your lips to his cheek, or your hand on his neck. When he does realise you're kissing him it's like a shock to the system; Spencer hadn't thought about what his neck might feel like to a new hand until you're cupping it sweetly, hadn't worried about the neatness of his hair before you ran a hand over it with reverence. 

"Thanks for coming to pick me up," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Best boyfriend ever." 

Which is a great sentiment and all, but Spencer isn't your boyfriend. He holds your back in one arm, the other busy strangling his shiny car keys, his mind racing. He isn't your boyfriend. Right? You have to ask someone for it to be official (according to Derek, Penelope, and Emily) (JJ was a little more lax about it) and Spencer's been too scared to ask you. 

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. You're wobbly. 

"Super drunk," you say, like it's one word, a diagnosable affliction. "Sorry." 

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be sober for me to drive you home. I'm really glad you called me." 

You're drunk enough to miss his confused tones. "No,  I'm sorry 'cos I knew you'd say yes even though you hate driving. I honestly didn't even think you had a car." 

Spencer pulls you closer as a couple stumbles out of the same bar you'd been inside of, though when he arrived you were sitting on the cold sidewalk with your knees pulled up and your dress slipping out of place. He adjusts his grip to put an arm under yours and begins leading you toward to the parking lot. 

"Next time, I'll come inside to get you, okay? I don't think I need statistics to remind you that it's not safe to be inebriated by yourself in the city, especially now." It's pitch black outside, stars like a scattering of tint salt grains visible to only the most dedicated of eyes. "It's dangerous for you. I don't mind coming in to find you." 

"You're the nicest," you declare, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. 

He's fitter than he used to be, but Spencer doesn't have a chance of getting you to the car if you're not conscious. "Hey, keep your eyes open. It's not far, okay? Work with me."

"Will you call me something nice if I do?" you ask. 

Spencer helps you down off of the curb and across a naked stretch of asphalt shining like grease in the light from the lamppost. "I'll call you whatever you want me to." 

"You called me pretty on Thursday." 

Spencer feels the heat of a blush blooming at your slurred proclamation but doesn't back down. "You looked pretty on Thursday. You look pretty every single day. Watch the curb." 

"What about, uh, pet names?" 

"Like what?" he asks. 

"Like honey, and sweetheart. Angel, doll, dove." 

"Is that what you want?" he asks, trying to sneak a look at your face. You're concentrating hard on your footsteps, your tall shoes slippery on the wet ground. 

"If we're together…" 

"Are we together?" Spencer asks. He shouldn't ask while you're drunk, and it's not like he's going to take your word for it now over any sober discussion in the future, but he wants to know. 

"You don't think we're together?" you ask, frowning. He's horrified to see the crushed tremble in your lip. 

"I haven't had the chance to ask you yet," he says quickly. 

You sniffle, looking at him with a wide-eyed hope. "But you're going to ask me?" 

"Yeah, I'm going to ask you." He lowers his voice. He's not afraid of other people hearing him. If anything, he's afraid you will. He's afraid you'll hear him and reject him, despite every sign that says you won't. "I've wanted to ask you for a really long time, but you're– I was scared. You're beautiful, and kind, and you make me feel like I've found something I was missing, now. I guess I thought holding off would change the odds." 

"I thought you got banned from all those casinos," you say, clinging to his arm. 

Spencer's nose wrinkles. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

"You count cards and pr… probability," —you sound it out— "right? Have you not been doing that with me?" 

Spencer stops walking to help you pull your jacket back onto your bare shoulder. It's too cold to stay out here long. "It's different. You're different." 

"Oh." You smile at him dreamily. Eyes squinting until your lashes kiss in the corners, you smile like your lips have been stuck together with honey. You pout at him very gently, and he thinks you might want a kiss.

Spencer pats your back. "Come on. I'll take you home. You can sleep it off." 

"Can I come home with you?" 

He sees his car in the distance, a beacon of hope. "Yeah, if you want. But I don't have any pyjamas or anything for you." 

"Not yet," you say. 

Spencer goes pink to the ears, and unfortunately for him, you notice. You refuse to walk a step further, throwing heavy arms over his shoulders to beam at him eye to eye. Your fingers tangle gently into the ends of his hair and twist in circles that have butterflies exploding in his stomach. His breath catches when you tug on a strand, clearly bemused. 

"I really want to be your girlfriend." 

"I–" He swallows roughly. "I really want you to be my girlfriend." 

"Will you ask me?" 

"Tomorrow?" he asks delicately. He might be shy with you, but he has no qualms now showing you how vehemently he returns your affections, his arms curling slowly but surely behind your back. 

You fall into his arms for another hug. "Yesssss," you cheer under your breath. 

He sneaks a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Wanna go get something to eat first?" 

You gasp like you've been offered the world. "You really are the best boyfriend." 

[kendyzzlewp]

Creatures in Heaven||ART DONALDSON

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you run into your old college sweetheart, art, in a hotel bar. old wounds resurface as you tried to make sense of it all.

tags: college sweethearts, angst, non graphic smut?, reconnecting, pain, sad!art, divorced!reader, tears

“I don’t think I realize just how much I miss you sometimes. We were young and so in love. We were just creatures in heaven.”

You’ve always loved hotel bars.

The dimly lit space, the chatter of the guests around you, the overpriced drinks. Sitting down on a stool at the hotel you frequent after a particularly hard day at work, you can’t help but let your mind drift off. The TV above you plays a recap of the latest tennis match. Your old friend shows up on the screen, brown head stuck to his forehead, a huge goofy victorious smile on his face.

You quickly pull up your phone, sending a congratulatory text to Patrick. Making plans to meet before he leaves town.

A glass of wine gets placed in front of you, the maroon liquid swirling slightly.

“Y/N?”

You could recognize that voice anywhere. Turning slightly in your stool, your eyes met surprised blue ones. The pounding of your heart could be heard from miles away. He looked older, fitter. His blonde hair was now shorter, a stark difference to his Stanford days.

“Art,” you whispered, placing your drink down with trembling hands. “Wow, it’s been so long.”

As your gaze meets Art's, memories flood back, and you're reminded of the countless conversations and shared moments in your college dorm. You could lie and say you haven’t been following his career but you weren’t kidding anyone but yourself. You watched every tournament, every match, cheered silently from your apartment as took the tennis world by storm.

As he sits down beside you, you can't help but feel a rush of emotions—nostalgia mixed with a tinge of sadness. The memories of your last encounter weigh heavily on your mind, the pain and heartache still fresh despite the passing years.

"I can't believe it's really you," Art says, breaking the silence. "I've thought about you so often, wondered how you were doing. You look great.”

You look into his eyes, seeing a mix of emotions mirrored back at you. There's regret, longing, and a hint of hope.

"I've thought about you too," you admit, a sad smile playing on your lips. "I watched your matches, saw your rise to the top. I'm so proud of you, Art.

"Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me." Art's expression softens, a bittersweet smile crossing his face. “Wouldn’t be where I am without your support.”

The air between you is heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You both know there's much to discuss, but the weight of the past sits between you like a barrier.

“How’s Tashi?”

You had to ask. Patrick talked about them all the time. Even drunkenly confessing he had slept with Tashi in Atlanta when they bumped into each other for a tournament. You wonder if Art knew, you wonder if he hurt the way he hurt you.

“She’s Tashi,” he whispers, motioning the bartender for a drink. “Same as always.”

Art's response is cryptic, and you can sense the tension in his voice. You remember the pain of hearing about his relationship with Tashi, and it stirs up a mix of emotions within you.

"I heard about your marriage," you say softly, searching his eyes for any reaction. "I hope she makes you happy."

Art looks down at his drink, swirling the liquid around in his glass. His silver wedding band caught the bar’s overhead yellow light.

"It's complicated. Things are... not what they seem."

You nod silently, understanding how complicated a marriage like that could be. You think about your own failed relationship, how it was necessary for you to let your husband go because he couldn’t compare. He could never compare to the man sitting next to you.

“Are you married?” He asked, taking a sip of his whisky.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of Art's question sinking in. It's a question that holds so much significance, one that forces you to confront your own feelings and past decisions.

"Divorced," you reply softly, meeting his gaze steadily.

There's a flicker of something in Art's eyes, a mix of surprise and curiosity. You wonder if he can sense the unspoken truth behind your words, the lingering emotions that still tie you to him despite the passage of time.

"I've had my share of relationships," you continue, your eyes fixed on the drink in front of you. "But they just… didn’t compare."

Art's gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you're feeling. The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I'm glad you're here now."

You feel a rush of emotions at his words, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. Despite the years apart and the pain of the past, there's still a connection between you that refuses to fade. You were only really yourself around Art. The rest just got this fucked up, fake version of you.

“I heard you have a daughter,” you said, changing the subject. “How is she?”

A pang of sadness hits you as you see the light in his eyes at the mention of his daughter. You wished you were the one to give him a child, just like you planned together all those years ago. Laid up together in your small dorm bed, hand intertwined, whispering promises and dreams at three in the morning.

“Lily,” Art's expression softens even more at the mention of his daughter, a warm smile spreading across his face. "She's the light of my life."

You can't help but smile at the genuine love and pride in his voice. Despite the complexities of his marriage and the challenges he may face, it's clear that his daughter brings him immense joy and fulfillment.

"I'm so glad to hear that," you say sincerely, feeling a bittersweet tug at your heartstrings. "She's lucky to have a father like you."

Art's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels as though the weight of the past and the uncertainties of the future fade away, leaving only the warmth of the connection between you.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

As you continue to talk about Lily, you can't help but feel a sense of warmth and nostalgia enveloping you. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, there's a comfort in the shared memories and the genuine connection between you and Art.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself opening up more than you ever expected, sharing stories and laughter in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar. It's as if the years apart have melted away, leaving only the familiar ease and familiarity of your college days.

You look down at your phone, eyes widening at the time. “Wow,” you exclaimed. “It’s three am.”

Art chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Time really flies when you're lost in conversation, doesn't it?"

You nod, feeling a mixture of surprise and contentment at how quickly the hours have passed. Despite the late hour, you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of Art's company and the warm ambiance of the hotel bar.

"It's been so wonderful catching up with you," you say, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "I've missed this."

Art's smile mirrors yours, his expression filled with warmth and sincerity. "Me too, Y/N. It's been far too long."

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected reunion and the chance to reconnect with Art after so many years apart. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, you know that this moment will always hold a special place in your heart.

As you bid Art farewell and step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of renewal and hope stirring within you. You start walking down the street, your heart bleeding from reopening old wounds you swore to never touch again.

“Wait!”

You turn around to see Art jogging to catch up to you. He slows down as he approaches you, panting slightly.

“Is everything okay?" you ask, a hint of concern in your voice.

Art looks at you, tears pooling in his eyes. "I know it’s too late, but I just don’t think you realize just how much I miss you sometimes.”

His voice trembles, and you can see the raw emotion in his eyes. He steps closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to take your hand.

“Y/N, it’s been almost ten years, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. I miss the way you laugh, the way you’d stay up with me all night just to help me study, the way you believed in me when no one else did. I miss us.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his heartfelt confession. His words hit you with the force of all the years you’ve spent apart, all the moments you’ve both lived without each other.

“Art…” you begin, but he shakes his head, needing to say more.

“I thought marrying Tashi was the right thing to do, but it never felt right because she wasn’t you. Every achievement, every milestone—it felt hollow because you weren’t there to share it with me. I’ve tried to move on, to live my life, but no one ever came close to making me feel the way you did. I still love you, Y/N. I never stopped. And seeing you tonight, it’s like all those feelings just came rushing back.”

You’re overwhelmed, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to process his words. You feel a mix of hope, fear, and an undeniable longing.

“Art,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “We can’t.”

He takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “I don’t know what the future holds, and I know we both have a lot of shit to deal with, but I can’t let you walk away again. I refuse.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation in his gaze. Despite the years apart and the complications of your pasts, the connection between you is undeniable.

“I don’t know what the future holds either,” you admit, your voice shaking. “But I do know that I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Without another word, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, the taste of whiskey and longing lingering in the air. In that fleeting moment, everything else fades away—the pain of the past, the uncertainties of the future—leaving only the warmth of the connection between you and Art.

You both pull back, foreheads pressed together, heavy panting as you both try to catch your breath. Your heartbeat resonating in your ears as you find his hand, interlocking your fingers.

“Take me home?” You asked, silently hoping he understood the underlying tone of your invitation.

Art nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'd love to."

Together, you walk through the quiet streets, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. The world feels hushed and intimate, as if it's just the two of you in your own little bubble of time.

As you reach your apartment building, you turn to face Art, your heart pounding in your chest. The moment feels charged with emotion, a mix of longing and uncertainty swirling between you.

"Do you want to come in?," you say softly, searching his eyes for any hint of what he's feeling. "I think I have some wine…”

He leans in and kisses you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. In that moment, all doubts and fears melt away, leaving only the certainty of your feelings for each other. You opened the door to your apartment, still locked in the passionate kiss.

Art kicks the door closed, walking you further into the room. His hands getting reacquainted with your body, muscle memory kicking in as he lifts you.

“That way,” you mumble against his lips, motioning to a door in the back.

With a soft chuckle, Art carries you towards the direction you indicated, his lips never leaving yours. The heat of the moment ignites a fire within you both as you stumble towards the bedroom.

You want to savor each moment. You need to remember it in case it’s the last time. There’s no rush as your hands lift his shirt over his head, his pale skin glowing with the moonlight that streams from your window. You press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder, feeling goosebumps appear on his skin.

Art does the same, tenderly lifting your dress over your head. His fingers tracing stroking every inch of your skin as he lays you down on your bed.

The room is filled with the sound of your breath mingling with the soft hum of the city outside. In this intimate space, you find solace and connection in each other's arms, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing.

As the night stretches on, you lose yourself in each other, exploring every inch of each other's bodies as if trying to memorize every detail. Time seems to stand still as you become lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of your shared desire.

—

Hours later, as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, you find yourselves tangled together in the sheets, your bodies still humming with the echoes of your passion. Clothes strewn around the floor of your bedroom. With a contented sigh, you bury your face in Art's chest, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment wash over you.

As you lie there in the quiet stillness of the morning, you realize that this is where you belong—wrapped in Art's arms. He holds you as if you were made just for him, so tightly and close. Trying to bound the pieces of you he broke, together.

And as you drift off to sleep, you know that no matter what the future may hold, you will always belong to Art Donaldson.

[archangeldyke-all]

Something with like cellmate prisoner!sevika?! 😭😭😭 idk I just think like her being all dangerous and powerful, having a shit ton of friends but like selectively, no one messing with her maybe even hating how just mean she is. And then comes in reader and yk. I’d love if the story was smutty but u can chose ofc 🫦

i love this so much

men and minors dni

living in zaun is shit. but the one thing that's always kept you and a majority of your fellow citizens in line, was the ever-looming presence of stillwater prison just a few miles away. you've watched countless people enter those prison walls. you know very few who ever came back out.

and now, through a series of unfortunate events that lead to you assaulting an undercover enforcer, you're going to find out first hand just how horrible stillwater really is.

you don't think you've ever been so nervous in your life as the enforcer guides you-- restrained and already hating the itchy fabric of your new life-long uniform--down a long, long hall of cells.

he's chewing a wad of bubblegum, casually, like you aren't about to piss yourself with nerves. "listen kid." he says, looking you up and down. "i read your file. seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." he says, shrugging. "no prior arrests, clean record-- honestly i'm surprised they sent you here, but i guess you did break marcus' nose." the enforcer chuckles here.

"you know that asshole?" you ask. the man guiding you snorts.

"'s my boss." he mumbles. beside you, a prisoner lunges at the bars of their cell, screaming at you. you jump, and the guard laughs. "as i was sayin'-- you seem like a real peach. like you'd be a good influence on some of our... rougher prisoners." he mumbles.

dread starts to curl in your stomach. you have a pretty good idea of where this conversation is headed, and you don't like the outcome. you just hope you aren't cellmates with someone real bad: like genie the counter-fitter who got caught two years ago; esmee the weapons expert who successfully set an entire square block of piltover's wealthiest neighborhood ablaze; or, god forbid, sevika.

she'd been caught just weeks ago, smuggling an entire airship's worth of shimmer into piltover's loading docks. it was big fucking news.

sevika's a big fucking deal.

and you want absolutely nothing to do with her.

which is why, of course, the guard pulls you to a stop right outside of the only cell with a light on, the low, dim glow of a reading lamp and the quick flickering light of a lighter. you feel like you're gonna barf.

sitting in the shadows of the cell, puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, sits sevika, silco's second in command.

if he's the eye of zaun, she's the arm. he might be watching-- but she's doing. she's nothing but bad news; everything you've tried your best to avoid while living in the undercity.

well, look how well that turned out for you.

"sevika, meet your new cellmate." the enforcer calls out. a pair of silver eyes snap up from her book and lock on yours. you shiver.

"fucks' wrong with her?" she mumbles. you gulp.

"nervous, i'd assume. 's her first-offense." the guard says. he shoves you into the cell and you jump as the bars slam shut behind you. "you ladies have fun." he says, before turning and walking away, the smacks of his gum echoing behind him.

sevika inspects you from her chair.

"how'd you fuck up so bad you ended up in a cell with me from your first offense?" she asks, seemingly intrigued.

"punched an undercover enforcer." you whisper. sevika's eyebrow hitches up, a little amused.

"yeah?"

"think his name was marcus, or something." you mumble. she sputters.

"ha! really!?" she asks, a little smile growing on her face. you nod. she takes a drag off her cigarette, then points at the bunk beds. "i get bottom. don't go thinkin' 'cause we're cellmates it means you get to touch my shit. i got people outside pullin' big favors for met to get shit like this." she gestures to her cigarettes and lamp. you nod. "don't look so nervous. i won't bite unless you piss me off."

you try to stop shivering. you don't succeed. "s-sorry."

she studies you for a moment, her smile growing as she does. though she's no longer armed with shimmer, her arm's still in perfect working condition, five little daggers gently tapping on the table top as her eyes dart across you. "you from the lanes?" she asks. you nod. she snorts. "you know who i am?" she asks. you nod again. she chuckles, then stands. she approaches you, circling around you like you're prey, then chuckling and leaning back against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "you scared'a me?" she asks.

"shouldn't i be?" you choke out.

it seems to be the right answer. sevika laughs, then sits back down at her table, picking her book back up, chuckling intermittently for minutes after.

she's not a bad roommate. she's surprisingly tidy, always quiet, her nose usually buried in a book. she smokes like a fucking chimney, and you've come to find she gets her tobacco-- and sometimes a bit of weed-- from one of the guards every tuesday night.

she's got special privileges among most of the guards. they're always sneaking her books and flasks, letting her get away without cell-searches, letting her read past lights out and have lighters and screwdrivers and other dangerous, weapon-like tools.

you, on the other hand, do not have these privileges. and, keeping in line with sevika's one and only rule, you don't touch her shit. all of this means that while sevika smokes and works on her arm and reads and works out, you spend your time just... sitting on the top bunk. watching her.

sometimes, during open cell time, she gets visitors. you're surprised that none of these visits end in shady dealings-- sevika doesn't seem to need to trade her stash of goods for anything. most of her visits are quick, and most end the same way: a small scrap of paper being shoved in sevika's hand.

she burns the scraps after she reads whatever's on them.

she's... pleasant, sometimes. it's rare, but it happens. one day, you'd forgotten to make your bed before you went to breakfast. you returned to find it neatly made, and when you thanked her for helping you avoid trouble with the guards, she had just waved it off. "don' get used to it. i won't always be here to fix your mistakes."

once, a fight broke out while you were in the showers. you were sent back to your cell soaking wet-- your hair still lathered in shampoo. she had chuckled, called you a "wet rat", and helped you rinse your hair out in the tiny sink in your cell.

and... she's kinda pretty. it occurred to you one evening while the two of you were partaking in your nightly routine: sevika reading in her chair while you study her, pretending to sleep. she'd glanced up at you and whispered. "why're you always lookin' at me?"

you shrugged, then nearly choked on your tongue when 'you're pretty' almost slipped out of your mouth. "uh... i got nothing else to look at." you'd ended up saying. she seemed to accept this.

"you don't have any prison girlfriends?" you ask. sevika's in a particularly jovial mood today: the note she'd been delivered earlier in the afternoon must've had great news. she's decided to share her joint with you. the question slipped out the second you took your first puff-- your tolerance astronomically low from being without for so long.

sevika laughs. "nah."

"but..." you cut yourself off before you get yourself in trouble, biting your lip. sevika chuckles, then nudges your leg.

"y' can say it." she says. you smile at her, then speak.

"it's just... i had a few friends who work at babette's." you say. "i figured you'd have as much of a reputation here as you do there."

she takes a second, tilting her neck side to side as it cracks, then sighing. "i got shit to do in here." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, biting your lip again, and she chuckles. "say it." she demands again.

"you just read all day." you laugh. sevika nods.

"i'm... working." she says. you just nod along, pretending you understand what she's alluding to.

it happens in the strangest way but you and sevika start to become... friends.

she sits alone at lunch, and you sit alone too, on the oppisite side of the cafeteria. but you're so used to looking at sevika, that you find yourself watching her even when there are much more entertaining things to look at, like the handful of fights that break out every meal.

you notice she loves the jello cups you guys get once a week. so you pocket yours and toss it at her later that night. the way she smiles lights up the room even brighter than her tiny lamp. you make it a habit.

she starts loaning you her books, finds you a crate to sit on by her table while you guys read together at night.

and when sevika gets jumped in the middle of the night-- you don't even question it before you jump out of your bunk, grab sevika's screwdriver where she left it on the table, and start swinging in the dark, blindly.

"what the fuck?" someone squawks when you manage to stab something in the dark.

"what?" sevika whispers in the dark.

"sevika, your bunkmate fucking stabbed me!" her attacker's voice rings out.

a light flicks on. you cringe at the sudden brightness, then blink in confusion as sevika and a guard with a screwdriver sticking out of their shoulder stare at you.

sevika's grinning. the guard is scowling. you hold your hands up in shaky fists, preparing for a fight. sevika chuckles.

"relax, sweetheart." she says, swinging her arm around you and tugging you into her side. "ran's a friend." she whispers into your ear. you blink at the bleeding guard, then back at sevika.

"so, what, we're taking your girlfriend with us now?" the guard-- ran-- asks. sevika looks at her friend, then looks at you, a calculating look in her eye. she smirks, shrugs, then looks back at the guard.

"she threw herself between me and a uniform-- can't just throw that kinda loyalty out, now can i?" she asks, smiling.

you don't know what's happening. you're about to ask-- when suddenly you black out.

the first thing that comes back to you is your sense of hearing.

voices.

"sevika, fuck, you can't just throw a wrench in the plan like this--"

"i can do whatever the fuck i want--"

"on the night of the breakout?! no heads up!?"

"do i need to remind you which one of us is second in command, here?!"

"...fuck. c'mon, help me load her in the van."

the next thing is your sense of touch. you're laying on the rumbling cold steel of a van floor-- currently in motion.

you're shivering, but then something warm and wool and smelling like cigars is draped over you.

you're head keeps bumping uncomfortably with every crack in the road. someone gently picks your head up and puts it in their warm nap, a hand coming down to scratch your scalp.

your voice comes next. "mmmh?"

"it's okay." sevika's voice comes. you groan, cracking your eyes open, only for her face to be grinning down at you. "fuckin' maniac." she giggles.

"wha?" you groan. you're seeing double, your head is pounding.

"ran knocked you out. 's what you get for stabbin' 'em." sevika chuckles. "but, you're lucky, 'cause they don't hold a grudge. they helped me lug your ass outta stillwater."

"wha?!" you ask again, snapping up. sevika laughs as you look out the front window of the van-- the depths of piltover surrounding you as you head, presumebly, to the last drop.

you recognize the man driving-- a tall, muscular, tattooed man who'd recently been added to your cell block's guard rotation. in the passengers' seat sits the guard you'd stabbed-- bandaged and watching you with amusement.

"wha's happenin'?" you mumble, looking back at your cellmate as you clutch a hand to your throbbing head. you've been shrouded in a red cloak-- sevika's already out of her prison uniform and back in her 'second in command' look. she smirks at you.

"y' really think i was jus' sittin' around, servin' my time?" she asks. you shrug.

"figured somethin' was goin' on. y' kept gettin' those notes. didn't wanna ask." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"well, you shoulda. or i shoulda warned you, so you didn't try killing my crew." she chuckles. you blink over to the person in the passengers' seat, cringing.

"s-sorry." you mumble. they wave it off.

"'s cool. knocked you right the fuck out, didn't i?" they chuckle. "we're even."

you turn back to sevika. "you broke me out of prison?" you ask. she shrugs.

"'re you mad about it?" she asks. you gawk at her.

"uh... just... a little surprised?"

sevika cackles. you smile at the sound, despite your headache. "i wasn't plannin' on it! then you started givin' me your jello, 'n readin' all my books, 'n..."

"she's got a crush on you." ran fills in from the front.

"i didn't say that!" she shouts.

"she's not denying it though--" the man driving teases.

you choke on your spit. sevika huffs, rolls her eyes, and speaks. "i... i kinda got a crush on you, yeah." she mumbles. "and i swear i'm not sayin' this jus' 'cause i think you're cute but: you should really stay with us at the last drop until things calm back down, since, y'know... you're kinda wanted now..." she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

you blink... shocked.

you don't really know what to think. you tried your whole life to stay out of trouble, and it managed to find you anyways in the form of a drunken under-cover enforcer deciding to smack your ass when you'd had too many drinks to hold your punches. you tried to stay out of trouble in stillwater until you were saddled with sevika. you tried to stay out of trouble with her until she dragged you-- literally, you were unconscious!-- out of prison along with her. it seems like trouble's meant for you.

but if there's one thing you're certain of, it's sevika.

you smile at her, then reach up to cup her cheek. she looks more nervous than you've seen her in all your months in stillwater together.

"you gotta crush on me?" you ask. she gulps.

"i'd say it's a little more than a crush seeing she broke you outta stillwater as your first date--"

"ran!" sevika hollers. you chuckle.

"is this our first date?" you ask, raising your eyebrow at her. she shrugs.

"it's... jus' don't expect the next dates to be this exciting." she chuckles, rolling her eyes. you grin, then dart forward and press a kiss to her lips. when you pull away, she's wearing that same nervous look again.

"you okay?" you whisper. she licks her lips, nuzzles a bit against your hand on her face, and nods.

"'m just kickin' myself for not puttin' the moves on you sooner. coulda been fuckin' you to pass the time in prison instead of readin' all those boring books." she mumbles. you burst into laughter, and she grins.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[f10werfae]

But That’s Mine Hen!

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Short!Shy!Wife

summary: Pouty Y/n gets jealous when her grump of a man is approached by a certain woman; she can't help but stomp her foot and whine, showing everyone that he's hers and vice versa (Dom!Henry)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Lumberjack!Henry, Full Masterlist, taglist form

“Come on bun, let’s go get that dress you wanted” Henry smirked keeping a hand on his wife’s ass, a small squeak leaving her rosy lips as he gave her cheeks a tight squeeze. Giving him a kiss wet enough to leave others drooling, she giggled interlacing their hands together. The both of them taking an afternoon stroll into town for some summer shopping, Y/n happily spending her burly man’s money.

“Oh Henry! Hey!!” A high shrilly voice said from behind them, Y/n’s face immediately furrowing seeing Patricia, the bar owner of the town calling after her man. A pang of jealousy immediately hitting her chest. Henry seemed to have noticed this, a smirk on his face, he walked forward and gave the woman a hug.

“Oh Patricia, it’s lovely to see you, still lookin’ as beautiful as ever” Henry smirked, his eyes still on Y/n who could be heard scoffing as she looked to the side, her eyes finding her shoes the most interesting thing in the world. Fisting the bottom of Henry’s shirt, a pout on her face as she stomped her foot slightly. Henry looked at her from the side of his eye, finding her jealous reaction the most adorable thing ever, she looked like a baby bunny. His baby bunny.

“Please, you flatter me too much, you never come round anymore been missin’ you round the bar” Patricia pouted crossing her arms over to prop up her breasts, ‘don’t be so obvious’ Y/n thought to herself. “Swear you have gotten more handsome, we should have dinner sometime, maybe we can catch up some more?” Patricia beamed happily, she had clearly been ignoring Y/n’s presence this entire time, because when Y/n tried to say something next she was rudely interrupted.

“Great it’s a date!” Patricia replied without even hearing Henry’s reply, wrapping her arms around his torso like a mad woman, how desperate Y/n thought. Deciding not to let herself third wheel her husband and some sloppy woman, Y/n turned straight on her heels and walked towards the dress boutique she was there for in the first place; her eyes set on the periwinkle backless dress settled on the mannequin. Her mood immediately lifting as she saw the glitter sleeves and the length seemed just perfect.

“Oh my, is that the Y/n L/n?” A guy around Y/n’s age shouted from the other side of the boutique, a shining smile on his face, a clearly well kept man of his time. “J-Jeremy?” Y/n said confused, she hadn’t seen her friend in years, truthfully she had forgotten he even existed. “What are you doing here?” She asked confused, seeing him holding a tape measure and pieces of fabric.

“Moved back from LA, took a job here as a fitter and designer, wanted to feel more at home. You get it?” He smiled setting down his things and folding his arms over his chest, “Y-yeah I get it” Y/n stuttered back feeling a bit anxious under his gaze, lowkey wishing for Henry to walk in now any second.

“So can I help you? Are you wanting that new periwinkle dress? I can help you get fitted with my tape measure, make sure it fits perfectly” He smiled honestly, holding up his tape measure; within seconds he had thrown it around the smaller woman’s waist.

“O-Oh no it’s okay, i’m just waiting on my husb-“

“Sugar? So this is where ya ran off to?” Hearing that same low voice she loved, she smiled shyly knowing he wouldn’t be happy with her being in such close proximity with another guy. Specifically one that she had dated mildly back when she was 14, even though it meant nothing, Henry still seemed pissy. “It’s okay my wife doesn’t need help, Jeremy” Henry grumbled standing up to his full height, then bending down and reading the shorter man’s name tag, leaving him slightly shaken merely by the size of the older man.

“A-are you sure? I can help with-“

“Listen, Jeremy, I told you we don’t need help. Do we sugar?” Henry asked deeply, his eyes travelling to Y/n who shook her head rapidly, her hands immediately wrapping around her man’s hairy forearm, her nails mindlessly raking through the arm hair. Jeremy simply nodded and scurried off to help the other elderly woman in the shop, leaving the married couple to their own devices.

“Leave ya alone for two seconds n you’re already givin’ away my pussy for a dress” Henry grumbled scoffing grabbing her hand tightly, pulling her out of the shop like a kid who was being scolded, pushing her into the back of his truck that was parked on the sidewalk. Her head landing on the soft pink seat covers she said she would die without, and Henry of course gave in without a second thought.

“W-wasn’t givin it away!” Y/n pouted crossing her arms as Henry hovered above her, pushing the seats down to almost make a bed like surface. “Sure you weren’t” Henry grumbled, his hands holding on tightly to her hips, his cock slightly hardening at the sight of her breasts now pushed against her thanks to gravity.

“B-but you were about to go say yes to dinner with Patricia, n-n that’s no fair. I-i’m your wife n’ that’s mine!” Y/n whisper shouted, tears slightly collecting in her eyes from frustration motioning to the tent in his trousers, so she turned her head to the side not wanting to look at Henry right now. “Oh baby sugar, did ya not hear me when I said no afterwards, or were ya too busy suckin’ off Jeremy”

Henry’s heart ached seeing her so riled up and upset, but he couldn’t help but notice how wet she got from him simply teasing her. “W-was not! You’re mean, I don’t wanna talk to you right now. Go back to Patricia or whatever her name is” Y/n grumbled, whining when Henry tilted her head back to look at him, a softer smile on his face as he kissed her tears away.

“M’sorry honey, jus wanted to tease ya but I promise I won’t do it no more, i’m all yours, n’ I definitely don’t want to see you around that Jeremy fucker ever again. You understand?”

“Yeah whatever, can we jus go home now please” Y/n pouted still feeling down in the dumps. “I love you sugar, my precious wife” Henry cooed nuzzling his nose against her slightly reddened one, her eyes as big as buttons as she looked up at him.

“L-love you too” She whispered back leaning forward and pecking his lips softly, wiping away her face with the back of her hand. “Aw i’m sorry honey, your Henry’s sorry, didn’t mean ta upset you so much” Henry whispered now feeling a bit guilty, making a mental note to never play this sorts gag on her ever again, he couldn’t bare to see his baby bun so upset. It broke his heart.

Nudging his head against hers he kissed both her cheeks, cupping her face, wiping her stray tears with his thumbs. “Come on, smile for me baby” He whispered kissing down her neck, over the pearl necklace he had bought her for no reason whatsoever, other than he had seen her stare at it for more than two seconds.

Seeing her lips crack up a smile, he himself also smiled as he kissed her lips passionately, his tongue coaxing open her lips; letting his tongue mingle with hers as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. “Gonna take you right here okay bun?” He kissed her full cheeks one more time before sitting up and unbuttoning his jeans, his cock already springing out without help.

Nodding ,Y/n shyly widened her legs and wrapped them around his waist, flipping her dress up to reveal the purple lace covering her centre. “Baby you spoil me too much” He chuckled pushing her underwear to the side, teasing the tip of his cock up and down her slit before resting it against her snug hole.

“J-just put it in already bear” Y/n whined wiggling her hips in hopes of him just slipping in, a sharp breath kicking her throat as he suddenly just filled her to the brim. “This what you wanted, your husband’s cock all up your wet pussy?” He said through gritted teeth, hid hands sliding up to cup her face, his forehead against hers as he basically lay on top of her.

“Come on, tell me what ya want or you aren’t going to get it butterfly, what do you want?”

“I-I want my husband’s-husband’s cock in my pussy alla time, j-jus for me and no one else” Y/n gasped feeling his thumb reach down and start toying with her clit, massaging it in all directions giving her a sense of overstimulation. With her mouth gaped open, Henry saw this as another opportunity to get his woman dirty, collecting spit onto his tongue before letting it dribble onto hers.

An excited whimper leaving her as she cupped his face and smashed their tongues together in an open-mouthed kiss, letting him swallow all her gasps and moans while he thrusted mercilessly. The sounds of hip and lip smacking filled the car, with it evidently becoming extremely steamed up giving them another cover from the public.

“Your little pussy is gonna make your husband cum baby, fuck, we were made for each other” He moaned breaking from the kiss, “W-what if you grow bored o-of me?” Y/n asked mid whimper, those insecure thoughts filling her head again, only for them to be interrupted with a pleasurable spank to her breast.

“Don’t speak that way about my wife”

“W-woah feel all fuzzy now” Y/n smiled lazily, her body jerking with each thrust, her arms again draping around Henry’s shoulders as best they could, “Oh do you honey? Fuckin’ brilliant” He swore picking up the pace to a heavenly rate, “go on baby bun, show em all who we belong to” He growled picking up her hand and dragging it down the steamed window, leaving a very erotic looking handprint amidst the mist, anyone walking by could guess what was going on; as if the car rocking wasn’t enough.

“H-Henry cumming” She said using his full name, which sent Henry into a frenzy, his rhythm falling as he felt his cock grow that bit more sensitive. “Love, i’m going to cum i-inside you okay? Wan’ fill you up and show everyone all of you is mine, show them all what they can’t have when you’re all round full of me” He rambled almost out of breath, her hands cupping his face and staring into his eyes hazily.

Both of them lost in each other ad Y/n clenched her hole around his thick cock, milking it for all its worth as he spurted rope after rope inside of her. Once they both calmed down, a small voice said “B-bear did ya really say no to P-patricia?” She mumbled looking into his icy blues, her fingers playing with the chain around his neck which had a pendant with her fingerprint.

“Course I did honey, ya kiddin me? There’s no other woman on this Earth I’d willingly spend my time with other than you baby bun. N’ that better be the same for you”

“Mhm mhm It is!” Y/n chirped now happily and more hyper despite the raging sex they had which now seemed to smell around the car, ignoring the fact that the mixture of those their orgasms were now leaking onto the cushioned seats.

“you’re going to stay here n look pretty while I go into that boutique” Henry smirked flipping her skirt down and buttoning himself back up, wiping the spit and drool of her face using his red plaid button up. “W-what?”

“Need to get ya that pretty dress you deserve, n’ show that Jimmy bastard who’s boss around here” He smiled leaning down and kissing her pussy passionately over the thin fabric of her dress before exiting the car, Y/n would have stopped him about the cum stains on his jeans, but she didn’t really see the big deal now that he was inside the boutique.

——-

Taglist Tags (form is up there^^): @severewobblerlightdragon @disaster-rose @meyocoko @HcavsCevans @morenoc @Kaydesssssssss @esposadomd @kimm4710 @yaminax @rosiesluv7 @hoya122 @imahallucinationnn @elenavampire21 @luvabellee @cookielovesbook-akie @theekyliepage @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @kzhlvlysstuff @grxnde-dwt @p4st3lst4rs @thebaileybugle @teti-menchon0604 @ggmimitf @ninasw0rld @acornacre @keiva1000 @spencerreidat4am @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke

[toptierteaser]

The Fitness App

Chapter One: Coach Hermes

“Dude, I swear by it! Six months! That’s all it took to whip me into shape! Two years of Pandemic fat gone like that! Trust me, you won’t regret it!”

                Diego’s words rang in Dylan’s memory as he stared down at the little earpiece in his hand. It looked like a little white snake, curled up in his softened palm. This was his last opportunity to back out, to put the thing back in the box and return it to the software store. He could get back in shape on his own, couldn’t he? if he just committed to going to the gym four times a week, documenting his workouts, journaling his food habits…

                He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. A husk of the former man he used to be. Or rather, it looked more like the hottie-with-a-body from the past had been stuffed into a suit made of dough, which had only expanded over the course of the last three years. His face still retained his former “adorableness,” as the ladies and gays at the office put it. He still had the good looks as the fat had hardly affected his face.

                But the rest of his body…it was an entirely different story. Just the sight of himself, standing alone in his room, was enough to make him blush. Everything had filled out. Exposed in his underwear, he looked first at the thighs which pressed up against each other like rising bread. His love handles that now jutted up over his waistband. The tight briefs he had not bothered to replace were covered in the front by the gut that had just begun to descend—a major factor in his deciding to try out this new technology—covering the front of his crotch and the fabric was beginning to rip on the sides because of the size of his ass. His butt had always been big for a guy’s, but now it was absolutely ‘ridiculous,’ as his friend, Cody, had teased, grabbing one of his juicy cheeks and giving it a jiggle. And of course, his tits had grown ripe, bouncy, his arms thickened not by muscle, but by fat, and his neck was slowly starting to plump up as well, teasing just the hint of a double chin.

He knew no amount of working out, writing down his exercises, keeping track of his calories would get him any closer to the fit jock he was over three years ago. It was a tried and failed recipe for disaster that had only resulted in him ballooning even fatter every time. Of course, during the pandemic, he had simply sat on his ass like everyone else and stuffed his face until he couldn’t fit another bite…but what was his excuse for the last two years?

At the beginning of the pandemic, there was no risk of being asked to go back into the office. Who knew how long that would last? And so, Dylan had kept on growing, kept on eating. But after a few years of remote work, the company had finally started to crack down on working-from-home, requiring a slightly-to-surprisingly chubbier office to return.

On the dreaded day, Dylan, after a morning of wrestling himself into the loosest chino’s he could find and wriggling into the only button-down that would button over his tubby gut, had waddled himself back into the building. He was shocked, stunned, and dismayed to find that out of all the dozens of employees, he had put on the most weight in his time larding out at home. And his coworkers were equally-stunned to see his new status. No one, upon smiling at him and greeting his return, could seem to keep their eyes from falling to size up his sized-up belly. And a few even made comments; his rival, Luke, who only looked fitter, more muscular, going so far as to poke his tummy.

It was already a miserable day. One which resulted in Dylan trying his best to drown out the associated feelings by glutting out on the snacks he had brought back to stock his desk. But to make matters worse, as he stood there, a granola bar dangling out of his mouth, restacking the papers on his desk, he watched as Diego, suited with brand new pants, a shirt, and shiny new shoes, came strutting into the office, looking at least fifty pounds thinner than the last time Dylan had seen him.

Diego had already been a thick-bodied man. Chubby, even. He had been so even a year before the pandemic, when both he and Dylan had started. The desk job had caused him to fill out quite quickly and by the time everyone was sent home to work, his obtuse ass cheeks could barely even fit into his pants. It was, perhaps, a lucky break for Diego that he could now work from home, as Dylan could see the seams on his buttocks starting to become unraveled as his doughy coworker waddled out the door.

But the pandemic went on, and so Diego’s weight went up. Dylan could see the changes during the zoom meetings, as his flawless brown skin was stretched tighter over the young man’s plumping face. Once, even, Diego had to stand to plug his computer back in and Dylan could see his lower half, clad only in a t-shirt and the tightest sweats Dylan could imagine his office friend wearing, his gut jiggling as it “bwomped” out from beneath his shirt, smacking against the keyboard on the desk.

That’s why it was a surprise when, two years later, Diego came strutting into the office, looking thinner than when he had started. Luke had elbowed his way to the front of the cluster who had walked up to congratulate him, feeling Diego’s muscles, running a hand over his stomach to check for abs through the fabric. The whole sight made Dylan want to puke. Instead, he stuffed a muffin into his face and glowered until they were called into the conference room.

It was a tighter fit than Dylan could remember, as he wedged his widened ass between the armrests of the chair. By accident, he was right beside his friend, Cora, and Diego. They had always been on good terms, but Dylan could hardly stand to look at him.

“What’s wrong, man?” Diego had asked.

Dylan didn’t hesitate. “How the fuck did you lose all that?” he spat. It came out far more volatile than he intended.

Diego looked slightly dejected, throwing up his hands. “Just wanted to take care of myself, man.”

Dylan softened his tone. “Sorry…it’s just. You, of all people…”

Diego laughed. “Would it make you feel better if I said that you were part of the inspiration? That I wanted to look like you did…you know…before.” He laughed, elbowing Dylan in the chubby side. Dylan couldn’t help but smile.

Diego glanced around. Everyone was busy chatting and celebrating each others’ return. He lowered his voice. “There’s an app…and a device. It’s called the ‘Encour Rager!’” Dylan gave him a look. “Cheesy, I know. But hey!” He looked down at his own body.

“What does it do?” asked Dylan.

                “It’s an A.I. trainer. It encourages you to work on your goals.” Diego chuckled. “And man is it brutal! But it’s effective. Which, clearly you might want to consider,” he glanced at Dylan’s stomach. Dylan squirmed.

                “I might give it a try,” he said absently. Of course, he didn’t know how he felt about A.I., but like everyone, he used it almost daily in some way or another. But he had already tried so many apps; calorie trackers, workout calculators. None of it had helped.

                Diego leaned in closer. “Listen, dude. It’s not like anything else you’ve tried. It’s a commitment. I don’t recommend it lightly. But once you buy it and put it in, it stays in there. You don’t take it out again for a year! I mean, it’s as close to permanent as you can get!”

All that flashed through Dylan’s mind now as he looked at himself. A tubby version of the hottie he so badly wanted to be again.

A small chirping sound went off from the device in his hand. He looked down to see it glowing blue. It was fully-charged. Now was the moment of truth. He could back out now, if he wanted to. He gave his thickened body one last glance in the mirror, catching a glimpse of the pile of clothes he had set aside because he no longer fit into them.

He clicked the button on the side of the earpiece, raised it, and inserted it into his ear.

A pleasant tune filled his brain. And then, a voice. “Hello, Dylan.” It was deeper than he had imagined. Masculine. He envisioned an attractive, muscular jock. “I’m your Coach. You can call me Coach if you like, or by my name, Coach Hermes.” ‘Hermes,’ the god of games and sports.

“Hello,’’ said Dylan awkwardly.

“Hello, Coach,” corrected the device.

“Hello, Coach,” said Dylan, smiling.

“Much better!” said the device. “Now, you are aware of my function, are you not?”

“I am,” said Dylan. “Coach Hermes,” he added, grinning.

“Very good. Just to recap, I will act as your personal fitness trainer for the next twelve months, during which time, we are going to whip your body into the shape you most desire! My function is to optimize your fitness level to suit your needs and to best-satiate your personal self-image. During our first week together, we’ll be getting to know one another quite well, and I will be observing and commenting on your lifestyle; your eating habits, your exercise routine, things like sleep schedule, how much television you consume. Does that all make sense to you, Dylan?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan. He was growing placid, as if the voice was lulling him into a trance.

“Excellent, Dylan. Now, as I will be observing, I will also be curating a program which I believe will best-benefit your body…money-back guaranteed, of course. The watch that accompanies my earpiece will allow me to monitor your heart rate, your breathing, and your responses to my words. The contact lens will allow me to see the world through your eyes and will give me a customized projection which is designed to motivate you towards your fitness goals. Please go ahead and place the watch on your wrist at this time.”

Dylan did as he was told, strapping the watch onto his chubby wrist. “My, that’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” said Coach Hermes.

“Uh, a bit…” mumbled Dylan.

“I am reading that your pulse has been elevated. Might I suggest you do some deep breathing to calm your nerves. There is no need to be anxious. None of this is permanent until you give me the final say-so.” Dylan took some deep breaths.

“Now,” said Hermes. “Please place the contact in your eye…so I can get a good look at you.”

Again, Dylan obeyed, dropping the contact in front of the mirror, and blinking as he adjusted it into place. It was the smoothest contact he had ever worn. He could barely tell it was there!

“Very good!” said the Coach. “Oh…what a handsome dude.” Dylan was looking at his own face.

“Thanks, Coach!” said Dylan, half-forgetting he was talking to a robot.

“You’re welcome, Dylan,” said the robot. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind standing back a bit, so I can see you. You did remember to wear the minimum amount of clothing so I can see your full person, did you not?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan to both question and request.

“VERY good! I can tell we’re going to whip you into shape faster than you could ever have thought imaginable! Now, please step back.”

Dylan stepped back, still put off by the quivering of his stomach as he did so. Still disturbed by the increased rubbing of his thighs.

“Oh!” said Hermes in a shocked voice. “Oh, my! You have lost control, haven’t you…big boy?”

Dylan blushed. Why he would do so in front of a robot was beyond him. But it was embarrassing nonetheless.

“No matter,” said Coach Hermes. “We can work with this. Can’t we, thiccums?”

“Uh…yes…?” stammered Dylan, questioningly. ‘thiccums?’

“Yes…?” said Hermes.

“Yes, Coach.”

“That’s better, fatty.”

Dylan nearly fell over. Diego had warned him the words of the A.I. could be harsh. But it would all worth it, when he came strutting into the office in a new suit…right?

“Well, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you, chubbs, there’s only one thing left to do. Your wristwatch will take your thumbprint as your signature.” As the app said this, Dylan felt the watch buzz, illuminating on the screen. “If you are prepared to commit for the next year, please go ahead and place your thumbprint on the screen at this time.”

Dylan hesitated. Could he really handle being called things like ‘chubbs’ and ‘fatty until this time next year?

“Or, you may decline the offer and return the app. Your one-day trial is cost-free so long as the device is returned to the nearest software provider without damage.” The voice dropped to a whisper in Dylan’s ear. “But, do you really want to look like this for the rest of your life, porker? You know that you won’t be able to do this without me, right, fatboy? You know you need my guidance. That’s what I’m here for. To help you. I’m nothing like those other apps, where you can lie to them about eating a salad before you go binge on a carton of ice cream. I’m the real deal. I see everything. I feel everything. Like how out of breath you are, just standing there. Like how I can tell by your pulse that you’re embarrassed. But you don’t want to be embarrassed for the rest of your chubby life, do you? Go on, biggums…sign the contract.”

Dylan looked down at his watch again. He raised his thumb over the screen, letting it hover.

“Sign. It,” hissed the app.

He couldn’t do it alone.

“Yes, Coach,” he said. And then he pressed his thumbprint down and held it against the screen.

“Very good, fatboy,” said the A.I. in his ear. “Now, we can begin our training!”

[kkcauseway]

Intoxicants

Pairing: Fiancé Joel Miller & f!reader Summary: You’re going out drinking on a well deserved night out with friends, your fiancé Joel Miller has dropped you off and is waiting on a call to to pick you up. When the call to get you finally comes you’re a little too drunk, but he doesn’t mind, he’ll look after you. It’s his job after all. Content and warnings: Fluff, so much fluff. Talks of naughty things, but nothing happens. Joel Miller being the cutest fiancé. Caring!Joel, Protective!Joel. Joel looking after a drunk reader. Joel being understanding that you need time away with friends and isn’t a controlling partner that needs to know where you’re at, at all times and sets a curfew. 🫶🏻 Authors note: Just a tiny drabble, the idea just came into my head whilst I was at work and then hey presto this was made. Hope you enjoy the endless amounts of fluff 🫶🏻

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The drive to the bar is silent, apart from the hum of the engine and yours and his breathing. He’s focussed on the dark road, but has a hand firmly around your thigh, squeezing and stroking every so often. Gently moving it upwards taking your dress with it. But he’s only messing. Having his fill of touching you before you’re gone for a few hours.

Eventually he parks up outside of your destination, turns off the truck engine and turns to you. Smiling when his eyes meet yours. “Now don’t drink too much Baby, you know you’ll regret it tomorrow if you do.”

“I won’t!” you laugh.

“I’ll pick you up when you’re ready okay? Call me when you’re ready to go, don’t matter what time it is”.

“Okay, I will, thank you for dropping me”.

“No problem Baby, y’have a good night, stay safe, call me if you need me. And may I just say future Mrs Miller you look mighty fine in that dress, and I for one can’t wait to rip it off you later”. He growls leaning closer to your face before smiling adding “I love you, have fun!”

“Love you too” you kiss him before leaving the car. Blowing him a kiss as you walk into the bar entrance.

🥂🥂🥂🥂

A few hours later your friend calls Joel to pick you up, explaining you’ve had a little more to drink than you meant to and that it was just easier if she called you. Laughing about how you’re such a lightweight before ending the call.

He’s quick to come and get you. Laughing to himself because he knew this was going to happen; he knew he would be helping you home and into bed and more tonight for the usual reasons. He shakes his head at the thought of drunk you as he laces up his boots. The way you’ll be stumbling about, so talkative- more so than when you’re sober; everything about you is adorable. God, does he love you.

When he’s parked up outside the bar once more, he quickly enters, searching every corner till he finds your stunning figure standing out from the crowd.

“Hiii!” you slur running into his arms, hugging them around his neck after noticing him making his way over to you.

“Woah Baby, okay, you’ve definitely had a lot to drink haven’t you. Y’had a good time?” he laughs aloud slightly winded by the force in which you pounce at him.

“I knowww” you moan sincerely “I’m sorry but YES! I had so much fun! Like so much fun we haven’t stopped laughing and we were comparing our men and guess what, you won!”

‘He’s fit’ your single friend Lanni slurs pointing at someone on the dance floor.

‘He’s fitter!’ Your very taken friend Lisa replies pointing to another gross looking guy out at the smoking area.

‘Oooo what about him’ your other taken, but at the same time basically single (it’s complicated) friend Alison mutters.

The silence that follows is evident of their wanting you to join in on their game.

“You’re very quiet in this conversation ” all three of your friends turn to you when you don’t add your own sought out fit guy to the mix.

“Firstly, all three of your tastes are disgusting, I think y’all need glasses. And well secondly, I’m happy in a relationship I don’t need to be looking at other men!” you roll your eyes playfully.

Lisa utters excitedly ‘I’m in one too but I’m still playing!’

‘Ahhh, I know what it is’ Lanni adds laughing playfully.

“What?” you question as your other friends do too in unison.

‘I mean I know I’m not the only one thinking, she’s absolutely smitten with Joel Miller no wonder she doesn’t give a shit.’

‘I mean if I was with him I wouldn’t either’ Alison utters giggling.

‘He is gorgeous’ Lisa quickly adds.

You know they’re not wrong, that women constantly ogle him, want him, but he’s yours. All Yours! and always will be. So, you don’t mind joining this part of the conversation.

“He is absolutely gorgeous inside and out; the most amazing man ever. Why do you think I’m fuckin’ marrying him! He’s a literal God” you finally add.

‘Wit woo!’ Lanni jokes.

‘I mean I would’ Lisa jests.

‘Ugh and me.’ Alison sighs longingly.

“Okay ladies enough thank you haha, we’ve established he’s hot and he wins the competition on who has the hottest man, but enough ogling my fiancé, especially when he’s not here, he’s mine! Tell you something it’s a damn good thing I love the three of you the way I do!” You end on a fit of hysterics of which your friends join in. You must look like nutters in the bar, but you don’t care. Joel fucking Miller will always till the end of time be your happy place; your purpose.

“I won huh?” he grumbles keeping you close.

“Uhu, but you know the best thing about it, they might all think you’re hot, but” you lean into his ear adding whilst whispering “but I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.”

“You are aren’t you Baby” he mumbles back.

“Yeah! Lucky me” you giggle.

“Okay, well how about let’s get you home and into bed huh?”

“Okay but wait I need a wee first!” You jump out of his arms making your way to the bathroom stumbling embarrassingly so. So, he races to your side, holding you upright “Okay, come on Baby let’s go” he laughs, and you laugh with him mumbling “my hero.”

He helps you into a disabled toilet; knowing they’re larger and can fit more than one person, following you in and locking the door. He stares at you as you struggle to lift your dress holding it up whilst also pulling down your panties. Constantly losing your balance in your heels.

“Here” he chuckles as he quickly kneels “hold onto me I’ll pull ‘em down.”

You nod. Leaning on his shoulders as he curls his fingers round the lace and pulls them down to sit at your ankles. “Okay, stand up straight Baby” you do, he then stands, but you grab one of his hands holding it as you sit down on the seat.

He then goes to turn away but you yank his arm making him look back. Confused.

“Are you embarrassed Joel Miller?” you giggle “watching me on the toilet?”

“I no- I just thought you’d want some privacy.”

“Privacy” you laugh. “Joel this is one of - hiccup- of the least comising positions you’ve seen me in.”

“‘Comising’? Y’mean compromising? Jesus Baby you’re pissed” he laughs back.

“Meanie” you stick your tongue out at him.

“I’m a meanie? What for looking out for you? Hey you’re the one who’s gonna regret this in the morning not me.”

“Yeah well you’ll look after me you always do” you smile looking up at him from the seat.

“Yeah, you know I will. Love doting on you don’t I Babygirl.”

“Uhu”. You smile trying to stand yourself back up after wiping but to no avail. So instead, you make grabby hands at Joel like a toddler begging to be picked up. He hold your hands as he forces you up. Groaning as he does.

“Thankyou” you sing at him.

“That’s okay Baby, can you step outa them panties I don’t think we should bother trying to get them back up. Was hard enough gettin em down?”

“You’ll say it’s for that, but really you just want my knickers you perv” you laugh uncontrollably.

“Bita’ both maybe.” He grumbles shrugging, dirty smile on his face. “C’mon home time” he groans as he picks up your panties shoving them into his jeans pocket, before grabbing your hand and leading you both out.

He helps walk you to his truck, and to climb in, he even straps you in, forever a gentleman. He’s quick to round the truck jumping in himself and driving you both home in the darkness of the night.

“Joel” you mumble after a few minutes of silent driving.

He hums in response. Keeping his eyes on the road. When you don’t reply instantly he gets concerned “you feelin’ okay?”

“Yep, you’re just so pretty” you slur.

“M’pretty?” he chuckles lightly.

“Uhu, s’not fair” you whine turning in your seat to look at him. Stroking gently at his beard.

“Baby you’re plenty pretty. Men would line the streets for you if they weren’t so shit scared, I’d fuck em up.” He bends his head down slightly to kiss your hand as you brush just under his lips.

“Hehe, you’d fuck them up just cus you loveeeee me.”

“Course I would Baby, none of them fuckers are havin’ you. You’re all mine.”

You laugh and he joins you.

When you finally make it home, you’re super sleepy; on the verge of being asleep. Your body doing what it always does when you’ve had too much to drink. Joel lifts you out of the car closing the door with his boot before walking you to the front door. He has to put you on your feet to unlock it, but once inside he pics you up again taking you upstairs. You rest your head in his neck taking in his beautiful natural scent.

“Are you seriously sniffin’ me right now?”

“Uhu” you nod.

“You are one crazy girl” he chuckles.

“S’your fault you smell so good” you mumble shrugging.

He gently rests you on your bed once you make it to the bedroom. “Stay here Baby just gonna get a few things for you.” You don’t argue, you stay firmly where he put you so comfy on the edge of slumber. He’s quick on his feet grabbing you some paracetamol and a glass of water, with ice, just how you like it and he’s grabbed one of his t shirts for you to change into.

He peels off your heels making light work of the buckles you always struggle so much with. And then he helps you to sit up so he can pull your dress off over your head. Leaving you bare, having not needed a bra with this dress and of course the man had already pocketed your panties. “So beautiful” he murmurs straightening out your now ruffled hair. He grabs the t shirt and quickly puts it over your head, helping you to feed your arms through the holes and then there you are, in all your Glory; his favourite shirt buries you as you gleam at him with a smile so full of love. He passes you the water and pills next sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking a hand over one of your legs as he watches you take the tablets and then down the entire glass. “Good girl” he praises when you finish, you smile at him.

“I’m gonna quickly go top this glass up f’you, and get myself ready okay Baby, be back in a sec, you just get yourself all warm and comfy.”

He’s gone all of five minutes, but when he returns, you’re out like a light. Curled in on yourself, face squished into the pillow. He climbs in next to you and you instantly, instinctively in your sleep edge closer to him till your head is resting on his chest. He wraps an arm round you to pull you closer. “G’night Baby.” He murmurs kissing your forehead before he too finds himself encased in sleep. Content with drunk, sleepy you in his arms.

[capseycartwright]

i'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day

“Last night - when the clock struck midnight,” Buck began, taking a steadying breath. “Chimney teased that you and I were the only two in the room who didn’t have someone to kiss at midnight.”

Eddie barely held back an eye roll as he remembered Chim’s words. Their friend was hardly known for his subtlety. “Yeah, I remember.”

As they clean up from Eddie's New Year's Eve party, Buck and Eddie have a conversation about resolutions, honesty, and who they want to ring in the New Year with.

ao3 link

It was silly, really, Eddie knew, but he had always liked the idea behind the New Year. It’s not as though every year, he managed to wipe the slate clean, and start over as a newer, better, fitter version of himself - but there was something about the end of a year, and the beginning of another, the raucous way that one year came to its conclusion, seen out by fireworks and celebrations and champagne - for better, or worse - and the quiet way the new year slipped in to existence, the prospect of a brand new, completely untouched year stretching on for a delicious 365 days ahead.

It was silly, Eddie knew, but it was a silly indulgence he allowed himself. Despite liking the New Year, his New Year’s hadn’t always started well - he’d been deployed, for a fair few of them, counting down to a new year with his squadron as they tried to make the best of their situation. Other years, he was with Shannon - he remembers happy new years, back at the beginning of their relationship, but that hadn’t lasted long. No, most of their new year celebrations had been tainted with fights, and arguments, cold shoulders and a relationship that had never been built to last crumbling under pressure it was never going to be strong enough to stand up to.

Eddie had spent plenty of New Year’s Eve’s - and New Year’s Days - alone, Christopher in bed, and Eddie ringing in the new year by watching a rerun of the ball drop in New York, hoping, and wishing, and praying for a better year ahead - a year where he could provide a better life for his son, a year where he could be happier.

He was happier now.

Eddie could say that with a kind of confidence he couldn’t help but be proud of - happiness, as it turns out, had never been as clear cut as it had seemed when you were a child and happiness felt like it was directly associated with sunny days and ice-cream after dinner. No, no - happiness as an adult was infinitely more complicated, and Eddie had struggled to be really, truly happy, but he was getting there.

How could he not be getting there? Eddie had - well, he had the best kid in the world, and a job he loved, and he had done a whole lot of work this year on himself, accepting who he was - who he loved - and Eddie was leaving 2022 a happier man.

And he hadn’t spent this New Year’s Eve alone, either.

Eddie had never really had partying days - and really, he didn’t regret that, Eddie hated nightclubs and only really liked the quiet, hipster bars that Buck tended to find them, that served all sorts of IPAs and funky beers that had silly labels - but he’d hosted the 118 for a New Year’s Eve party last night. Nothing crazy, no - not when half the team had kids, and the other half were only stopping in before they headed out to a proper Hollywood party (“Don’t worry, Ravi,” Eddie shook his head, giving the younger man a soft smile: he didn’t know what it was like to be that kind of twenty-five year old, but he remembered what it was like to be a twenty-five year old with the weight of his world on his shoulders and he didn’t want Ravi to be that way) but a party all the same.

A party he was going to spend January 1st cleaning up from.

Eddie didn’t mind, really - a few streamers, and beer bottles, and leftover snacks, were a small price to pay for an evening with the family he had made for himself.

“Morning.”

Buck’s raspy, slightly hoarse voice drew Eddie’s attention to the kitchen doorway. He was wearing a borrowed hoodie, the arms slightly too short, and somehow, he had glitter in his hair, the blond curls messy after a night of tossing and turning on Eddie’s couch.

It was cute.

read the rest on ao3

[daydreamgoddess14]

Not a Couple (no, really!)

For day 3 of the Tedbecca Prompt Party 🥳

5 times someone mistakes Ted and Rebecca for a couple and the one time someone didn’t believe that they actually are...

Using prompts No. 29: 5 times someone mistakes Ted and Rebecca for a couple, and No. 17: Rebecca is Ted’s emergency contact.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton fluffy fluff.

~~~~~

1.

Ted brought another round back from the bar, Rebecca still had her head down frantically scribbling down the information Beard was giving her.

“No, you’re wrong - it was Man City in 2017-18. Chelsea was the year before, it was the start of the big City dominance.”

“I’m telling you, Rebecca, it was Chelsea in 2017.”

“No it wasn’t Beard. Trust me!” Beard looked at Ted with pleading eyes.

“Ted -”

“Beard. I love you, man, but I’m gonna defer to the woman who lived in the UK at the time and who had personal involvement in soccer at the time.”

“Football.”

“Right, boss. Football.” Rebecca wrote down Man City for her remaining answers - name the Premier League champions every year from 2012-3 season to 2022-3 season. Rebecca chose not to gloat when she was proven correct. When Beard went to the bar next, Rebecca and Ted poured over the picture round, heads bowed together whispering.

“Weheeey!”

“Wanker, you did it at last!” They looked up to see Baz, Paul and Jeremy with big smiles and pints in hand.

“Whatcha talkin’ bout fellas?”

“You and the boss! Lookin’ goooood!” Baz shot Rebecca with a finger gun and a wink.

“Oh, no no, we ain’t-”

“It’s about time, innit lads?” Jeremy grinned.

“Yeah, took ya long enough!”

“Boys, you’re mistaken, we’re-”

“Ohhh! Haven’t had the chat yet?” Paul asked and turned to the others, “they haven’t had the chat yet, idiots!”

“Oh shit. Sorry, Ted.”

“Sorry Ms Welton, sorry Ted.” Jeremy and Baz both looked mildly ashamed. “But still, nice one! You wanna have the chat though before she finds someone, y’know, fitter.”

“Well thanks for that, Benjamin Bratt. But when Rebecca tells you you’re mistaken, she means we ain’t dating at all. Just friends here, like that Ryan Reynolds classic.”

“What?”

“Huhh?”

“For real? Cos… I mean, they definitely ended up together in that movie.”

“No no, I don’t think they did. Clues in the title boys.” Ted said firmly.

“They did, I’m sure they did,” Baz whipped out his phone, “I’ll google it, to find out for sure.” Rebecca rolled her eyes, amused rather than offended by their insistence. “Yep, see - definitely did. Oh! Maybe that’ll happen to you two!” Baz looked as though he’d just seen the light.

“Yeah!” Jeremy agreed.

“You’re right matey, that’s it! They just don’t even know it yet.” Paul turned back to Ted and Rebecca, “you just don’t even know it yet!”

“Great chat, boys. Think we’d better get on with the quiz.” Ted insisted, gesturing at their answer sheet.

“Oh yeah, c’mon, let’s finish our picture round. Good luck with the chat wanker! Bye Ms. Welton, lovely to see you, you’re looking very lovely this evening.” The boys disappeared just as Beard returned.

“Do I want to know what that was about?”

“You absolutely do not Coach Beard, believe me.” Rebecca laughed.

2.

"Good evening, Coach Lasso. I’m Jade. Nate has told me a lot about you.” The young woman smiled as Ted approached the front desk of A Taste of Athens.

“Only the really good stuff I hope, Carly Pope.”

“I don’t know who that is.” Jade replied dryly. Ted waved his hand,

“Well then, I guess Popular weren’t that popular over here.”

“Nathan said you’d be bringing your girlfriend this evening. Nice to meet you Ms Welton. Let me show you both to your table.”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“I’m not his-”

“We’re not together.”

“Just friends. Colleagues.”

“She’s the boss.” Ted jerked his thumb at Rebecca. Jade stared at the two of them, bemused for so long that the silence became excruciating.

“Right. Follow me.” She led them to a small candlelit table in the back of the restaurant. “Table for two people who aren’t a couple.” She gestured to the table, deadpan, “so you say.” she muttered quietly as they took their seats.

“That’s the second time in the last month that’s happened.” Ted shook his head, opening the menu.

“Hmm. Weird. They’re obviously projecting. Wine?”

“Yeah, how about that red we had last time?”

“Not sure I fancy red, I’m thinking of having the fish?”

“Oh yeah, definitely not red then. They have a Livio Felluga Pino?”

“Perfect, well spotted.” They talked happily about their current workload, the mood of the team and Beard’s latest sandwich swap contribution. Jade watched them share a starter, offer each other a taste of their mains, and swap desserts halfway through, all with a small shake of her head.

“Hey, did you want to join me and Hen at Harry Potter World when he visits in a couple of weeks? I know you’ve always wanted to go.”

“Oh Ted, I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Rebecca, c’mon. You wouldn’t be.”

“Only if you’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll let me get Henry a wand?”

“I’m not allowed to say no, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine. But we’re buying you dinner afterwards.”

“Deal.” Rebecca agreed with a smile.

“How are the happy couple doing?” Jade asked, clearing plates. Rebecca sniggered into her glass.

“Wonderful, thank you Jade, that was beautiful.”

“Thanks Jade. I’ll need to have a word with our Nate the Great though. Calling us a couple,” he scoffed, “absurd.”

“Crazy.” Rebecca laughed.

“Hmmm.” Jade frowned, “crazy.”

3.

“Hey Michelle, Henry’s just getting changed, he’ll be out in a minute.”

“No rush, you guys having fun?”

“Oh yeah, he’s having a great time hanging out with the team. That coaching from Jamie is gonna go a long way when his team starts back in September.”

“Great news! How was Harry Potter world?”

“Pretty cool, Hen had a great time.”

“I hear you took Rebecca?”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Sent me a few pictures earlier. You look cute together, I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks. Wait, no - Michelle, we’re not dating? What makes you think that we are?”

“Are you kidding? Ted, the pictures speak for themselves, hon! And like I said, you look really, really great together.”

“Can you send me the pictures please?”

“Sure, hang on a sec-” there’s a pause on the call while Michelle forwards the photos,

“Oh.” Ted breathed softly.

“You see?”

“But we’re not dating.”

“Really? Wow. Ok. I’m sorry If I made you feel uncomfortable.” They fell into silence, Ted still looking at the images on his phone.

“You really think that’s what it looks like?” He asked quietly.

“Ted, honey, we were together a long time. I know what you look like when you’re in love.”

“Hmm.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Guess not. Must have snuck up on me.”

“Love does that sometimes. And Rebecca?”

“What about her?”

“Do you think she knows? Or loves you too?”

“Honestly Michelle, I have no idea.”

“Maybe you should speak to her.” As Ted went to respond, Henry came bounding in to speak to his mom.

“Mom! We had the most amazing day! Rebecca is so cool, she got me a wand from the giftshop and she said we can go again when it’s all decorated for Christmas and she’s going to take me to see a show at the theatre!”

“That’s so cool sweetheart, I bet you and dad will have a lot of fun.” Ted zoned out of their conversation, lost in his own thoughts.

4.

"Mr Lasso, I really need to insist that you sit down while we assess you. The nurses station is calling your emergency contact, and I'm going to arrange for some x-rays shortly."

"There's really no need, doc. I'm perfectly fine."

"He said you were annoying as fuck, he wasn't wrong."

"Sorry, who?"

"I'm Roy Kent's sister, Sara O'Sullivan. Right, says here your emergency contact is Rebecca Welton. We'll get her here as soon as possible and check over your results." Ted grumbled under his breath, "what happened?"

"We called off training because of the weather, it was too wet and slippery. I figured I'd meet Rebecca at a shareholder meeting, but I got taken out by a Deliveroo rider."

"Some of those riders need a new fucking career. And he really did a number on you, the ambulance was called because you were unconscious so I have to make sure you still have all your fucking facilties."

"Wow, you're definitely Royo's sister."

"I get that a lot." Ted smiled and acquiesced, holding up his hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright doc, you got me. I will await further instructions like a good patient."

"Where is he, I need to know right now - where is Theodore Lasso? Which room? Through here?" Rebecca Welton at a reception desk with zero information is a force to be reckoned with, Sara O'Sullivan had decided. She heard the commotion from three wards away.

"Ms Welton? Dr. O'Sullivan - Roy's sister?"

"Sara? It's so good to see you again. Thank god you're here, no one will tell me where Ted is, or what's going on? Was it a car? He never looks the right bloody way. I'll kill him myself if the car didn't succeed."

"He's fine, really. A bit of a bump on the head, but he's fine. I had no idea you were a couple - Roy always tells me the boring stuff like who took a knock in training - like I'm professionally bound to give a shit. I never get the good, juicy details like who Isaac is dating, or you!"

"But we're not dating?"

"He has you listed as his emergency contact?"

"I'm sure friends have friends listed all the time."

"Less often than you might think, actually. Unless you've known them like, the majority of your life, or you're family."

"Oh."

"Anyway, Ted's absolutely fine. Exactly as Roy described him so I take that as a good sign."

"Oh thank god. Could you imagine me having to break the news to his mother?"

"I'll take you through to him, no need to be alarming any mothers." Dr O'Sullivan led Rebecca through the corridors and into a monitoring ward where Ted sat up in bed doodling in his notebook.

"Boss! I'm sorry, I told 'em there was no need to bother you but the good doctor here is as stubborn as her brother."

"Absolute nonsense, Ted! You're bloody lucky Sara was working today," she bustled around him, openly looking him over for visible wounds.

"I'll leave you two to it while I just chase up the last of Ted's results." Sara gave Rebecca a knowing nod and left them to it.

"I really am sorry, Rebecca, I tried to tell them not to call you -"

"Ted, why the fuck am I your emergency contact?" She watched him intently. He had no answer for her. "That is like… wife level shit, Ted! I don't understand why you're in a foreign country, and your emergency contact is not the man you've known since you were kids? What if something serious had happened? What if you'd been really hurt and I didn't have the right information?"

"You know my blood type?"

"O negative."

"That ain't one of the common ones. But you know that it's mine. Distinguishable scars?"

"On your right knee and elbow."

"From?"

"Quad bike accident when you were 19."

"You know more about me than either you think you do, or you care to admit. I put you as my emergency contact, Rebecca, because you're my emergency everything." In the doorway, Dr O'Sullivan cleared her throat,

"Ted? Got all your results back clear. Everything is fine, no damage caused by the bike courier."

"A fucking bike courier, Ted?!" Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"Great, doc. So I can go?"

"You can. Watch out for headaches for the next few days, but other than that, you're free to go." She handed him the signed paperwork for discharge, "Lovely to see you again Ms Welton. Take care."

"Thanks Sara, see you soon." Rebecca picked up her bag and coat, "Ted, car's outside."

They sat in silence back to Richmond.

5.

"Rebecca, darling! How lovely to see you!" Rebecca grimaced, her wine halfway to her mouth,

"Tish. Hi."

"How have you been? It's been so long since you went marching out of my house all red faced and cross with me!" Rebecca bit her tongue so hard she thought it might bleed.

"Well you were pedalling that bullshit, Tish. I'm not quite sure what you expected me to say or do?" Rebecca was about to go in again, but was saved by the affable American walking towards her.

"Hey, Becca, your mum said she needs you."

"Thanks Ted."

"Well bullshit or not dear, it looks like it all worked out in the end? What a delightful couple you are!"

"For godsake, why on earth do we keep getting this? Tish, Ted and I are not a couple."

"What on earth do you mean you’re not? Of course you are! The signs are all there - weren’t you listening to me Rebecca, dear?" The elder woman was off, "Of course you weren’t, you were too busy being dismissive of me. If you’d have heard me out then you would have known!"

"The bloody signs? Upside down and drenched? Thunder and lightning? What the fuck was all that supposed to mean?"

"The signs are never crystal clear, Rebecca darling."

"Stop calling me darling, and stop going on about stupid signs that than be manipulated so that even a child can misinterpret them! You were not clear, the signs were not there and I fully maintain that you are a fucking fraud." The woman's eyes widened as Rebecca grew more venomous.

"I… I.. I'll leave you to it."

"You do that, Tish. And if you come near me again with anymore of your bullshit you will fucking regret it." Tish fumbled her way away from Rebecca,

"Hey now, what was all that about?" Ted asked, his voice laced with concern.

"My mother needs me, does she not?"

"Yeah, yeah she does. I tell you what, you sort out Debs, and I'll be waiting here with more wine and you can tell me all about poor Tish."

"There's no such thing as poor Tish, Ted." Rebecca rolled her eyes but did as Ted asked.

By the time her mother's garden party was winding down, Rebecca was certain Ted would have gone home. He'd been long abandoned after all. Instead, as she entered the conservatory, she saw him sitting and talking with the somewhat unusual combination of Tish and the local vicar.

"I'm just leaving dear, no need to snap my head off again." Tish sighed, collecting her bag.

"I need to be off as well," the vicar smiled, "may I see you out, Tish?" They both said their goodbyes and left Rebecca and Ted alone. He handed her a large glass of wine.

"Spill, Faith Hill." Her anger dissipated, Rebecca sat down heavily.

"It's nothing, Ted. Just a wild misunderstanding between a skeptic and a fraudulent psychic."

"Well that's the best kind, please go on." She settled back in the chair alongside him,

"If you insist. I went to see Tish months ago, at my mother's insistence. The reading was… not successful. She made all sorts of ridiculous claims that have not and will not come true. It was a shambles, and I felt humiliated."

"What were the claims?"

"Umm, the first one was about a green matchbook. Which, at first, I took to mean the one from Sam's restaurant." She looked a little ashamed.

"You mean, this one?" Ted pulled it from his pocket, Rebecca stared,

"Yes," she whispered.

"And the next?"

"She said something about a shite in nining armour. Which didn't even make sense, and then I saw John Wingsnight and he used that extract phrase… but otherwise, total horseshit."

"You gotta look at these things a little differently, Becca. It's probably not literal or as clear cut - John used the phrase but he's in the past, Sam gave you the matchbook but he's in your past. Has anyone you know used the phrase correctly when talking to you?" Rebecca wracked her mind,

"Only you," she laughed a little, reminded of the darts game in the pub.

"What else?"

"Thunder and lightning and me."

"Mean anything?"

"Roy told me once that I shouldn't settle for fine, falling in love should feel like being struck by lightning."

"Wise man. Was there anything else?"

"That I would be upside-down and drenched, but safe."

"Well that one's easy, right? Amsterdam and your boat fella?"

"I suppose… but nothing happened?"

"And maybe that's the point? The things you have linked so far, you've linked to exes. Maybe that's the link, these are where you've come from, lightning is where they're leading to?" Rebecca took a long drink of wine and turned to Ted, incredulous.

"Ted, that's insane."

"Is it though? What else links all of those things?" She looked at him intently, her eyes drawn to where their hands were almost touching on the sofa cushions next to her, "go on." He urged.

"You?" She muttered, confused. He bit back a wide grin,

"I have a matchbox like you. I told you I was white knighting. I was with you in Amsterdam, trying to reach you - trying to reach out to you." He explained. "You saw the messages, in the end?" She nodded. "Becca, I know you're sick of everyone assuming that we're a couple. I don't know about you, but all it does is make me wonder why we're not. I'd very much like to kiss you?" She'd already moved closer to him, instinctively and turned to face him.

"Yes, Ted." She breathed, letting him cup her cheek and kiss her softly. She let out a little sigh and he fought the urge to chuckle at her realisation. He broke the kiss first, leaving her still leaning into him. Her eyes grew wide,

"What's up?"

"Lightning."

"Well I'm glad you think so, boss." She beamed at him and reached out to pull him into another kiss. As they sat with their drinks and their thoughts, the sounds from Deborah's garden party reaching the conservatory, she turned to Ted again.

"Feels like I might owe Tish an apology," she murmured. "There was one more prediction though."

"Hmm?" Ted queried, his hand running through her hair as she leaned back into his shoulder.

"She said I'd be a mother. But I can't, I even went to the damn doctor to check." He kissed her temple,

"There're a lot more ways to become a mother honey, did'ya ever think of that?" The tiny gasp let him know that she certainly hadn't.

6.

"Have you got a plus one for the engagement party babes?" Keeley asked from the sofa, sparkly pen in hand.

"Yes please, love. If that's OK. Although, actually it won't make a difference to your numbers."

"You've lost me?"

"Ted will be my plus one."

"Oh that's cute, at least neither of you will be alone." Rebecca frowned, putting down her own notebook.

"Keeley, he's my plus one because he's my plus one?"

"Oh babe, I know. I know. You shouldn't feel like you're doing each other a favour. It's a lovely thing to do for a friend, really."

"You're not understanding me, Ted and I are together?" Keeley stared at her for what felt like an eternity, before breaking out into peals of laughter.

"Oh my god!" She giggled, deliriously, "That's the fucking funniest thing I've ever heard!" Rebecca sat back in her chair and let Keeley laugh and laugh.

"It's true."

"Nahhhh come on? You’ve both been denying it up and down Richmond for ages. We get it, we’ll stop teasing you about it, now you stop bullshitting me."

"I'm not bullshitting you, I promise."

"Yeah, OK babe. Whatevs." Keeley giggled again, waving Rebecca’s comments off. Rebecca rolled her eyes and smiled, leaving her best friend to her ignorance.

"Keeley doesn't believe we're together." She laughed as Ted sat on the bed watching her get ready for the party.

"Aww, poor girl has been burned before." He grinned, watching Rebecca pick out an underwear set.

"I know, but considering how long she's been angling for this-" She'd moved to stand in front of Ted as she spoke and he reached up to undo her towel and let it fall to the floor,

"This? This is what she's been angling for?" He asked, his voice low. Rebecca laughed softly,

"Yes, I think given half a chance this is exactly what Keeley Jones would like."

"She's a woman of exceptional taste." He murmured, looking her over as if he hadn't spent recent weeks learning every inch of her body.

They were predictably late to the party.

"Where have you two been?!"

"Sorry darling, got caught up. You look gorgeous."

"Aww thanks babe, you too. Wow, you look like you've been royally railed though!" Keeley beamed, hugging them both. As she pulled away, she saw the eyebrow wiggle Ted gave Rebecca and froze. "No!"

"I did tell you."

"No!"

"Hate to ruin your chances, Keels." Ted grinned apologetically.

"Who said anything about that?" Rebecca teased, "If I were to ever dip into the lady pool, it would definitely be with Keeley." Keeley watched the conversion back and forth in shock.

"Are you two for real right now?"

"Sure are, Pablo Escobar"

"Really?"

"Really really." The squeal echoed through the venue.

"Oh my godddddd! Roy, Roy babe over here! Ted and Rebecca are together. Like, together together!"

"Fucksake, I just lost 50 quid to Beard."

"I've lost 40 to Bumbercatch."

"100 to Tartt."

"50 to Will."

"I lost to Will too."

"And me."

"And me!"

"I just lost 250 to Higgins." Will grumbled, handing over his accumulated cash.

FIN

[yellowkitkieran]

Accents (Kieran Tierney)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: You clue Kieran in on the simple things he does that drive you wild.

"You know what drives me mad?"

"What's that sweetheart?"

"Your accent." You say it matter of factly, which brings Kieran to a halt at the stove. The dish bubbling in the pot is immediately forgotten, abandoned in favor of this conversation. 

"My accent?" He questions, an amused smile on his dumb, kissable lips when he faces you. "Just me speaking, love? I cannae imagine that's true, there's no way. My accent drives you mad, you're sure? No' my smile or my arms?" 

Kieran is a smart man. He knows how to push your buttons, what sort of phrases and sweet names to use to have you chomping at the bit for him. Mentioning his smile and his muscled, toned, fit, perfect arms is simply him capitalizing on a few of your weaknesses. It's not fair, but you allow it because you've got a plan for tonight, and it involves takeout ordered at midnight instead of a home cooked meal. 

You whine, stomping your foot like a frustrated child. "Yes! Your accent Kieran- god can you tone it down? Why couldn't you be British or something-"

"Aw sweetheart you wouldn't want that." You cringe at Kieran's terrible attempt at a London accent. His point is immediately proven; it doesn't sound smooth if he's not speaking in his natural voice. 

Fine, maybe he was right. You fell in love with Kieran's voice first after all, having heard him laugh from across the bar and being enchanted from the first word he spoke to you. It's fitting that it makes you so feral, seeing as it's unique and doesn't sound like the accent of anyone else you interact with regularly. 

"Okayyyyy maybe I wouldn't. But honestly Kieran, how do you expect me to live in these conditions? Like that interview you filmed today and forced me to come watch. Mad! Sickening! The lighting was too good, your voice was so smooth- I nearly had to jump you right in that chair!"

Kieran laughs quietly, interrupting your train of thought when he places his hands on your waist and drawls in that beautiful accent, "Darling, I don't think that's-"

"And then!" You continue, wagging your finger in his face as you get your thoughts in a row. "And then, you get to talking about when you moved to Arsenal and how hard it was to settle in. What makes you think it's alright to be so sensitive huh? Who gave you the right to make my heart explode like that?" 

"And then the bit about me playing through injury because I always give a hundred and ten percent," he adds, his deep brown eyes sparkling. He's enjoying the praise as much as you're enjoying heaping it on. 

"Exactly! God Kieran honestly, it's so inconsiderate of you. And then you come home and it doesn't even end. You, standing at the stove, shirtless while you make dinner and sing along to your playlist? It's like you're trying to kill me!"

"Just trying to show my princess how much I love her. Gotta put some effort in." Kieran's teeth sink into his lower lip and he leans away a touch to survey your body. "And you know," he says huskily, his eyes darkening as his fingers tighten, "that I always give my best effort."

You throw your hands up, frustrated and needy at this point. "Fuck you Kieran! Honestly, how the hell am I supposed to live like this? You leave for international break next week, and I'm gonna have to sit here and watch you give interview after interview in that stupid, annoying accent of yours, and you won't even be coming home to me after!"

When Kieran pulls your hips flush to his, you can feel him painfully hard against your stomach. Your plan is working. For as much as this is an act, you really are frustrated- your boyfriend is simply too hot for his own good. The urge to ghost your fingers over his tanned chest is nearly too strong to ignore. He's somehow gotten fitter in the past few months. You suppose the extra hours he's put in at the gym are to thank for that. 

"Gonna be hard for you when I'm gone, isn't it my love? So rude of me to leave you here all alone…" Kieran dips his head to the crook of your neck, planting kisses like dewdrops on your skin. "What a terrible boyfriend I would be if I left you here without satisfying you first." You tip your head to give him more room to work, allowing your hands to slide up over his shoulders to thread in his hair. 

"Terribly inconsiderate… and then your hair? How many times have I told you to cut it when it gets this long? You look too damn edible when it's this length, perfect for pulling-" Kieran groans when you tug sharply on the fistful of hair in your grasp. "Andddd that sound is exactly why you need to cut it before you go. I can't be thinking of those noises when I'm trying to concentrate on you playing football!"

"I'm no' cutting it," Kieran says firmly, his accent thicker than you've heard it in ages. The consonants are nearly nonexistent, which is indication of how turned on he is right now. Kieran thrives on your slightly aggressive praise, though you normally save it for nights when he looks exceptionally good- like today. 

"You're cutting your hair before you leave and that's final," you half moan, your argument less than convincing as Kieran leaves a dark hickey on the side of your neck. There'll be no hiding that one, but you know that's exactly what Kieran wants. He loves laying claim to you before away games and even more so before longer breaks like the one he has coming up. 

And now it's Kieran's turn to tangle his fingers in your hair and pull, forcing you to meet his gaze. "No, I'm not. Because I know if I leave it long, I'll have you sitting on the sofa crossing your legs at the mere sight of me, counting down the seconds until I'm home."

"I'll be doing that anyway-"

A sharp pull has you falling quiet. Kieran's eyebrows lift, waiting for you to defy his silent command, but he grins when you obey. "There's a good lass. Now why don't you continue being good and let me prove how much sweeter my accent sounds between your legs?"

[batteriescastlehill]

What Is Fleetcard And How It Is Beneficial For Fleet Owners?

Operating cost is significantly higher for fleet owners and operators. They have to take several steps to keep this operating cost down and profit margin higher. For this reason, they opt for summit fleetcard repairs, as it reduces expenses on fuel and the money invested in repair work and maintenance of the fleet.

WHAT IS A FLEETCARD?

In this post, we have broken everything into pieces to let you know everything about fleetcards and basics. You will also learn about where they are used and what eligible purchases are there.

FLEETCARD BASICS

Once a company start using fleetcard program, the fleet manager has to issue the card to all fleet drivers. According to the vendors of century batteries Norwest, these fleetcards are also known as fuel cards. They are credit cards that can perform a variety of functions.

Some of these functions are listed below.

They provide a credit line specifically for fuel and vehicle-related purchases.

They give drivers access to fuel discounts.

They streamline the fuel purchase reporting process.

They prevent fraud.

They help owners manage employee payments and client invoicing in one platform.

Companies that offer summit fleetcard repair-related services add that these fleetcard come with a vast range of benefits. According to them, the primary function is to provide companies with a line of credit for vehicle expenses. This helps a lot by impacting the fleet’s cash flow. Expert bar fitters say that instead of paying in cash for fuel and repairs, companies and drivers can use credit cards when they need to spend some money. This fleetcard can be used in several places – 

Business licensing expenses

Insurance premiums

Payroll and accounts payable

Technological upgrades or other business investments

Here are some scenarios where fleet owners can get benefited from these cards.

Suppose the fleet owner is waiting for payment from the client, but he has to run payroll within the next 12 hours. In this situation, fleetcard can be very beneficial.

The driver has delivery to make but not enough cash to cover the expenditure of transport and fuel. Here in this situation also, the fleetcard will come in very handy.

Then, in any emergencies like a vehicle breakdown, the driver can summit fleetcard repairs services-related requirements and get the vehicle repaired.

[andypandy101]

This is the first pub I used when I was 18 back in 1982... The Elephant's Head, Sevenoaks. It is also the first pub I officially worked in part-time. I have many memories of this popular local's pub. (Sadly it closed in 2009 and is now a vets.)

It was when I was working behind the bar here that I first accepted an invitation from an older man to go home with him. Also, when I moved away from this area I started driving home naked from the pub!

Just over the road was the Crown Crest, a rather dodgy bar/club/hotel which was apparently once a "knocking shop". I also helped behind the bar there. (Now a tyre fitters.)

I only have one naughty memory of this place. One night we had live music (which wasn't common in the early 1980's.) Before their final set, the all male band went upstairs to change costume. They came back into the bar wearing just white vests and y-fronts. I couldn't keep my eyes off them.

The youngest guitarist was probably younger than me, and looked very embarrassed... possibly by the lack of a bulge in his pants. Feeling for him, I stepped out from behind the bar and felt him! His bulge definitely got bigger!

[hunty627]

Stories that Grant can make up with his model trains when he rebuilds his model railway layout.

Megan the mail car. Percy meets a brand new mail car named Megan.

Skiff’s mermaid tale. Skiff the boat is very excited because he gets to see real life mermaids, just like in the stories he’s heard.

Thomas and the turrets. Thomas the tank engine finds a US Army box car that can do a really unique trick. Its side wall can open up, revealing turrets inside. Being a cheeky little engine, Thomas wanted to do some target practice at the quarry, but he has no idea how much trouble he’s gonna get into.

Leo’s letdown. Leo the crane is feeling sad because he hasn’t been doing any rescues with Chris lately. His winch wasn’t working right and his paintwork was getting very dirty. Poy felt sorry for Leo. So Poy decided to cheer up Leo by taking him to ask Sir Topham Hatt if he could be repaired and repainted.

Emily and the fire wagon. Emily was feeling very excited. A brand new piece of rolling stock was being made in the workshops. It looked like a breakdown crane, but instead of a hook, it has a hose. It was painted red and has a light bar on its cab roof. Sir Topham Hatt proudly present it as the fire wagon and Flynn will teach Emily how to fight fires by doing some firefighting training.

Thomas and the autocoaches. Annie and Clarabel went to the works with Oliver, so Thomas had to borrow Isabel and Dulcie. They wanted to teach Thomas how to run his branchline the great western way.

The klutzy little engine. Percy meets a new saddle tank engine named Dorie, who was keen to make an impression on her first day on the railway, but she was rather clumsy. Because of her clumsiness, she would be told off by the bigger engines.

Henry and the hopper car. Henry was going to try out a brand new hopper car that has doors in the bottom.

Natasha and the mail train. Percy has taken ill, so Natasha was requested to take the mail train.

Mirabelle moves to Sodor. A new tank engine named Mirabelle came to the railway to start work.

Rosie, Rex & Robin. Rosie wanted to assist Robin & Rex on their work. But the two tender engines thought the tank engine was being an annoying tagalong.

Winston and the maintenance of way. Winston the track car was asked to assist Kayley and Smith on their work.

Fumbling Fizzy. Fizzy was requested to pull Annie and Clarabel while Thomas was going to the fitters yard to have his boiler after he blew a gasket from pulling too many hopper cars full of gravel. But Fizzy wasn’t sure if he can fill in for his brother.

[fandoms-in-law]

Stories Chapter 5

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

Summary: In which Steve takes a few friends paint shopping and makes an awkward comment to try ensuring 2 know he's a safe space

authors note is added at the end

/\/\

"So let me get this right," Robin started, clearly ready to rant as Steve led her, Eddie and Will into the home decoration store. "You scoff and let both me and Eddie go through subtly bringing redecorating up to you, act like it all has to be theoretical and are now, not a week later, taking not just us but Will off to get paints and see how much redoing your bathroom might cost? Why Will? And when did you tell him anything about this when we said no kids involved?"

Steve shrugged at her. "I need him to help with a couple rooms. He's just getting the tiny pots of paint and all I've decided on is the bathroom and colours I'd like the rooms to be. Also you two decided to do it that way because you knew I'm just as likely to try making my house fit your tastes as I am to let the kids take over if they try to."

"It's my turn to be Steve's favourite anyway. Dustin and Max keep refusing to let anyone else have the chance." Will agreed.

Eddie grinned,nodding at the statement before nudging Steve. "Come on then. Tell us why Will is oh so essential to your home redesign? What can't the three of us achieve?"

"A decent looking mural. I've asked him to do two and his sketches after I tried describing my idea when I called the Byers last night look awesome already." He explained easily.

That gets him a frown and Eddie reaching for his bag, forgetting it was left in Steve's car. "I'll show you that I could do that later." He states instead.

The other three all pause at that before Steve smiles widely. "Better idea. I'll commission you to do a painting I can get framed to replace the one in the dining room. I know you've been covering my parents portrait up every time you're around. Work with Will if you want ideas of what will work since one of the murals is opposite it."

Robin smiled at him now, her teasing annoyance over the redecorating plans going differently than she expected forgotten in curiosity over what he'd chosen. "Come on, give us the list of colours we're looking for. I know you have one if you did this planning without us." she nudged his shoulder. "And I want to see what you decided."

"Only so I can have some peace in here: Have some swatches to find. Eddie gets some too and we'll split up to see who finds their colours first. Meet at Will in the tester pots section." He offered them over, not bothering to explain the stars indicating the colours he wanted. It seemed clear enough that neither of his friends would try getting all the colours on a swatch.

...

Steve was last to meet up with them and by the time he did he was muttering under his breath, more frustrated than he would be by an out of the blue demand for a lift from Henderson that could have been mentioned far earlier.

"Were those colours that difficult to find?" Robin began, ready to tease but hesitating so she could check on him.

"The bathroom fitters don't give straight answers and didn't much like me saying I could go to a gay bar and get clearer replies than their hemming." He grumbled. "In good news, I should be able to afford to get the bathroom I want done. In annoying news, I'm going to have to find anywhere but here to do it since they seem to be homophobes as well as missing braincells."

Robin nodded slowly, ignoring Will and Eddie staring as if utterly confused by the sentence Steve just shared. "So you can have your corner tub deep into the floor of your bathroom?"

"That I can. Also either of you know if there actually is a gay bar around? So I can see if anyone there has recommendations for plumbers or bathroom refitting?" Steve continued glancing from Robin to Eddie.

At both of them shaking their heads in disbelief and Robin elbowing him again he dropped the subject with another grin. He'd checked before speaking at all that the area was empty of people other than their group and kept speaking quietly the entire time, but had deliberately mentioned it, trying to confirm he was safe to both Eddie and Will. It had been something he'd thought about recently when Robin mentioned she hadn't come out to anyone other than him and didn't want to just over a crush; that in a place like Hawkins, even with their trauma bonded family, his friends still couldn't be sure everyone was safe and Steve knew that even if he couldn't make everyone prove themselves accepting, he could at least make himself a safe place for others.

Eddie grinned back at him. "Can't say I do, not any that's nearby at least,but we could get recommendations from around the trailer park. I know who's cool already and even if you get overcharged for rich area privilege I bet it'd be cheaper than somewhere like here, looking for the wealthy home renovators, quoted." He offered instead.

"Mum and Hopper probably have some recommendations too." Will quietly spoke up, holding his sketchbook up for Steve to see before pointing out various tester pots in the colours he wanted. "How many of these can I have for the mural?"

...

"Do homes really take this much paint? It looks like there's no way you could ever use all of this." Eddie groaned, looking over the checkout with all the paints they'd collected over it.

Steve shrugged, "Not a clue, but I did check guides on how much a can will cover for the amounts I asked you to get of each colour and as you're all fond of reminding me, my house is big."

"I'm drawing pictures on your walls and then filling the gaps in if you seriously think I can stand just painting a wall in one colour." Eddie warned, grinning to show it was mostly teasing.

He got a laugh in reply. "That's why we've got paint rollers to make it quicker to do, but sure, go wild with it and see if the things you draw can still be spotted after everything is the same colour."

"Hey Dingus, stop chatting and help with putting this all back in the trolley. I swear your brat got a mini pot of every colour in existence." Robin grabbed their attention from where his paints were now being scanned.

"Will isn't a brat. He's an occasionally brutal angel compared to the rest of them, except maybe El." Steve corrected while squeezing past the trolley to help as requested.

...

"So this is actually being made into a home after all these years?" Hopper asked, stood outside of Steve's house only there to drop Will off but smiling and clearly ready to wait and chat if he wasn't about to volunteer to help with the painting.

Steve nodded, "Doesn't seem real, but apparently believing it's my biggest challenge yet."

Most of their group would argue, point to Russians or anything the Upside down had thrown at them to contradict him, but Hop just sighed. "Guess so. Making big changes deliberately instead of letting them happen around you is always tough."

"I did want to ask you something though." Steve hesitated now, knowing Hopper was the best person to ask the thought that had been in his head since he spoke to Jonathan about owning his home, but unsure if it would change anything.

He got a nod encouraging him to continue after a moments silence though. "Is there a way to contact Doctor Owens? The fact I have this place and nobody else seemed to get quite this much doesn't sit right so I want to challenge the unfairness with him."

"I've got a number for him but most of the time he just shows up after everything has gone to shit and been fought back." Hopper admits, moving towards the house. "But for now, let's get at least part of your house properly painted. I bet none of your friends have ever painted a wall in your lives."

Steve grinned at him, "No, but it doesn't seem too hard. We are just aiming for a flat colour, other than Will."

"You'd think so, but I'll show you the knack to it." Hopper grinned, rolling his shoulders and following the noise of voices through to Steve's living room.

...

Having new colours on the walls unnerved Steve. He'd be doing something and then pause wondering why the light was different for a moment before remembering. It felt kind of ridiculous to realise but just repainting the walls changed how the house felt completely.

"What's going on?" Dustin stared at the hallway through to the living room as if something would attack him.

This was the first clue and only possibility that the kids beyond Will would realise Steve owned the house early and he'd mentally been preparing himself to tell the most useful lie in avoiding demands to interfere.

"My parents barged in last week, said this friend of theirs was saying how unfashionable their decor was of the flat they keep in the city so apparently every property including this house needs redecorating urgently." Steve groused. "I'm just hoping it stops with repainting."

"Does that include your room? Cause anything has to be better than that wallpaper." Dustin immediately asks. "Actually, can I see how they've done your room? I need to judge it."

"They haven't done anything to it yet but they will and hell no. You lost any chance to look around when you decided to snoop and invade my privacy when I wasn't even here. You are restricted to the living room alone." Steve countered, unsurprised when he felt someone leaning over his shoulder a moment later. Honestly part of him wanted to show off the changes, and forget about Dustin rooting through his notebooks but Will had started with the mural in his room. If the ruse that this was dictated by his parents was going to continue then none of the other kids could see that. 

Eddie had been in the kitchen with Robin catching up and joking about their dream homes so both had probably heard that Dustin had arrived for Hellfire now. 

"Yes Dusty-buns, a few weeks does not erase the memory of that. Why are you here an hour early anyway?" Eddie cooed, reaching over Steve's shoulder to remain draped on him while messing up Dustin's hair.

"Will keeps mentioning coming round to help Steve with something and I'm his little brother. I should be the one doing all this helping." He glared at them, ready to argue just as much as actually ask what Steve needs help for that he wouldn't be approached about first. 

Steve grinned at that too, shrugging as he headed through to where Hellfire would soon be playing. "Don't think you can, Henderson. The Byers are the experts in art and photography. You're my audio and tech expert and honestly, the sound system I have is already good and the radio works fine."

"So what? You're actually getting a say in what's done?" Dustin scoffed. "That means you need my help even more. Let me see your room a so I can-" 

"Shut up. So you can shut up cause whatever say Steve does or doesn't get in how anything is decorated does not need dictating by you, shithead." Eddie interrupted, pushing off Steve to shove Dustin through to the living room. 

...

authors note: No I don't know or remember what I thought Steve spoke with the bathroom dept about, just that the comments online about lesbians being good at home repairs was in my head. The idea that that's how Steve tries to show Eddie and Will he's either an ally or part of the lgbtq+ is now just a scene I love because of its awkwardness

Chapter 6

[draftmare]

PSA of the day!

If you love your saddle and want it to last a very long time be mindful of what you store it on! It spends one hour a day on your horse‘s back and 23 hours a day on a hard rack.

I do not know what this saddle was stored on, but it left marks straight across the panels and holes in the flocking. This will likely need a full strip to repair.

I should be able to glide my finger down the panel, not get stuck in a rut:

Stripping and reflocking a saddle is not cheap, and can take a long time depending upon fitter’s availability. A simple change in the style of your rack in your tack locker can go a long way.

I highly recommend this type:

Super cheap and easy to install.

If you board or can’t swap out your saddle racks, pool noodles on the metal bars or your least favorite saddle pads under your saddle are a good way to protect the flocking too.