#fucking frazzled my dudes

[mellaithwen]

I hope something good happens to you soon and I want you to know you are loved 💜💜

welp thank you so much anon 🥺 and the same to you! 💙 this week was uh…something else 😩

[munamania]

me rn 😔 or ig like half an hour ago..

[eevyerndracaneon]

Mmmmhhhnhhnhnnmmm

[steddieonbigboy]

Stuff and Things

written for @steddiemicrofic june prompt 'stuff' wc: 483 | rated: G | cw: none | read on ao3

🦝🦝🦝

It's an enlightening phone call from Wayne that makes Steve drive over to the trailer park to see Eddie. It's not uncommon with their work schedules that they can go a few days without hearing from each other, so Steve didn't think anything of it until Wayne called.

It takes almost five minutes from his knock for Eddie to answer the door looking frazzled and breathing heavily.

“Stevie?”

“Hey, baby! I’ve not seen you in a couple of days, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good,” Eddie's eyes dart shiftily to his bedroom door and back, “Sorry, I've been kinda busy with stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“A-and things!”

“Oh yeah? What kind of stuff and things?”

“You know just, uh, the normal kind of, um, stuff.”

“And things?”

“Yup, that too!”

“Uh-huh.”

Steve just raises an eyebrow, hands on his hips, and watches as Eddie visibly wilts and sighs.

“Did Wayne rat me out?”

“He said you were acting the same kinda shifty as when you snuck a flea-ridden kitten into your closet as a kid, and now it's my turn.”

“Goddammit. Can't get anything past that old man.”

“Well, duh, you're the least subtle person I've ever met.”

“Hey!”

“You can't be mad if it's true, dude.”

“Fucking yes, I can!” Eddie huffs then waves Steve in, “Anyway, since you know now you might as well come meet, uh, stuff and things.”

Nothing stands out as weird to Steve when he glances around Eddie's room. He's about to think Wayne was wrong, when all of a sudden a tiny black snuffling nose pokes out of the pile of blankets on the bed, quickly followed by a second. Eddie hurries over to them as they start to chirp and gently strokes a thumb around each of their masked eyes.

“It's okay, my babies! I'm back, don't cry!”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Are they fucking raccoons?”

“Yeah!” Eddie grins, and scoops one of the little pups up, “Wanna hold him?”

“Uh...”

“So, this lil guy is called Stuff,” Eddie rocks the raccoon in his arms and nods to the other, still tangled up in blankets, “And that's his brother, Things.”

Things chirps and reaches grabby little hands out at Steve.

“See!” Eddie laughs, “He wants you to pick him up!”

Steve has never held a baby raccoon before but it turns out it's not too different from holding a human baby, if a little furrier.

“Hang on a minute,” Eddie frowns suddenly, “What did you mean before when you said it's your turn?”

“Oh, Wayne said he's had long enough to 'deal with your stupid' so he deserves a break, and this is what I get for dating someone who 'ain't got the sense God gave a goose.'”

“Fuckin' rude.”

“You're literally hiding baby raccoons in your bedroom, Eds.”

“But look how cute they are!”

“Yeah, they're cute but they better not have fucking rabies, Robin will kill you.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 41

Part 1 Part 40

Eddie’s twitchier than usual all throughout the school day. He sits through shop and history and band, rocking back and forth in his seat, staring at the door. He wants to bolt out the classroom door and hunt Steve down.

He doesn’t even know Steve’s school schedule.

It’s too soon for him to be back. Medically and maybe emotionally if that showdown with Hagan and Perkins was anything to go by.

Eddie didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. He’d been picturing Steve slinking back into the shell of King Steve, curling all that jagged edges tight enough to cut himself.

But, no. King Steve had rather publicly and spectacularly abdicated his throne.

Eddie wants to be happy. That was one of the most public declarations of possession Eddie’s ever seen. Steve Harrington had scorned his friends, and walked away, with Eddie.

But Perkin had looked hurt, and Steve’s eyes had gone dead and cold, and that lifeless gaze had stayed all the way through Eddie dropping him off at his classroom like he was a kindergartener and Eddie was his parent.

So, Eddie is stressed, buzzing with useless adrenaline as he speeds through the cafeteria, grabbing his usual droll lunch, and dropping down at his seat.

Gareth plops down beside him and says, “so, I heard a rumor.”

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, eyes flitting around the cafeteria, barely listening.

Steve’s not in his usual seat, center-stage at the jock table. What if he doesn’t show up for lunch at all? Will Eddie have to search the entire school to find him and make sure the asshole is alive and eating?

“I heard Harrington showed up to school in your van.”

Eddie snaps his gaze up, only just noticing that Jeff is sitting across from him, staring him down with furrowed brows. “So?” Eddie asks, like it’s not a big deal at all.

“So?!” Gareth replies, leaning toward Eddie, bringing their faces alarmingly close together so he can glare right into Eddie’s eyes. “So, you’re sick for a week.” He pauses here to emphasize the little finger quotations he puts around the word sick. “And come back to school with the jock of all jocks?”

“Shut up,” Eddie says. He has no rebuttal, can’t say much else without finding himself chained to another chair in that same cold, windowless room. “He’s just going through some stuff.”

“And that’s your problem because?” Jeff asks, biting into his shitty school-lunch lasagna and scrapping his teeth against his fork just because he knows it bugs the shit out of Eddie.

Eddie sighs, running his fingers through his bangs vigorously. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s already frazzled beyond repair.

“Just be nice,” he hisses, glaring between his two friends even as Doug sits down beside Jeff and starts eating his burger like he doesn’t care about anything that’s happening. He’s now Eddie’s favorite.

“Are you serious?” Gareth asks. “You’re asking us to be nice to fucking Steve Harrington of all people? When would we even see him?” He throws his hands in the air; palms open like he wants to slap the shit out of Eddie but he’s hanging on by a thread. Eddie echoes the sentiment.

“Look—” Eddie starts.

But then there’s a lunch tray placed beside his own, and the subject of their conversation takes a seat by Eddie’s side without even a by your leave. Jeff and Gareth are both gawping, lunches forgotten. Even Doug stops eating to look between Eddie and Steve with a raised eyebrow before clearly deciding it’s none of his business.

Steve’s opted for the same over-cooked hockey puck hamburger with fries, but he doesn’t seem interested in eating it. Eddie resists the urge to cram it into his mouth. Just like the doctor ordered.

“What is happening?” Jeff asks, but he, too picks up his fork and begins eating.

“Lunch?” Eddie says. Beside him, Steve snorts, and Eddie’s insides flutter alarmingly.

“And you can’t sit with your friends over there because?” Gareth asks snidely, gesturing rudely over to Steve’s usual table.

“Dude,” Steve says. “My only friends are a twelve-year-old and this guy.” He points at Eddie like he’s something he scraped off his shoe, smirking like he knows he’s making everything worse.

“Stevie,” Eddie says, giving him his most devastating kicked-puppy eyes; the ones that always melted Uncle Wayne when he pulled them out of his arsenal. “Barb would cry if she heard you say that.”

“I would cry if Steve said what?” Barb asks, shoving him gently sideways so she can squish herself into the open spot at his side.

“Stevie here said you two aren’t friends,” Eddie tattles gleefully.

Barb looks over at Steve, eyebrow raised as she looks him up and down, smiling at the wardrobe change that was one of Eddie’s worn-out band T-shirts. “You’ll do, I guess,” Barb says, before turning to glare across the cafeteria. “Besides, I’m going to need some new friends at this rate.”

Everyone’s eyes track the movement, following her line of sight to where Nancy and Jonathan are cozied up next to each other. They both look as studious and serious as ever, but Eddie can see their thighs touching beneath the table. He glances over at Steve, feels relieved when Steve’s little face isn’t scrunched up in heartbreak. If anything, he looks confused.

“Ouch,” Eddie says, nudging her shoulder. “Tough break.”

“I don’t get it,” Steve says, still squinting in confusion over at the pair.

Barb sighs, picking at the seams of the peanut butter and jelly she pulls from her backpack. “All Nancy cares about right now is Jonathan.” Her shoulders slump as she nibbles around her sandwich, only eating the crust like a weirdo. “At least with you, I knew it wouldn’t last.” She keeps talking over Steve’s little, offended, “hey!” “Now, when am I going to get my best friend back?”

Steve’s staring at Barb like he wants to burrow into her skull and root around. “She’s right there.” He points at Nancy rudely. Luckily, Nancy doesn’t seem to notice; too wrapped up in her nerdy little version of a honeymoon phase. “Can’t you just go hang out with both of them?”

“Dude,” Jeff says, staring at Steve like he’s an especially weird bug. Even Gareth is too baffled to seem all that hostile anymore. Eddie feels smug. How Steve passed for a suave, cool jock for so long is a mystery.

Barb groans, biting her sandwich in half viciously. “It’s not the same,” she says. “They’re all wrapped up in each other.”

“Didn’t Hagan and Perkins go through a honeymoon phase?” Eddie asks. “What did you used to do when they’d go on their romantic dates?”

If anything, Steve looks more confused. “Go with them?”

“You’re shitting me,” Gareth says aggressively, like this is some weird hazing ritual.

“Wait, no. Let’s let this play out,” Eddie says, turning his back on Gareth so he can watch Steve. “So, let’s set the stage. It’s valentine’s day, 1982. Tommy Hagan has set up a candlelit dinner with Miss Perkins to celebrate their eternal love. Where are you in this scenario?”

Steve’s still got his brows furrowed like he doesn’t understand the assignment. “Have you been like, stalking me?” The little freak sounds almost flattered at the accusation.

“Are you serious, Stevie?” Eddie asks, unsurprised when Steve nods.

“So, you, Steve Harrington, showed up at your best friend’s valentine’s date last year and that was just fine?” Barb asks, deadpan.

“Usually, I help Carol do her make-up before,” Steve replies, blessedly finally picking up his burger and taking a bite. He looks over at the jock table, something small and forlorn twisting his mouth even as he bites savagely into his burger like he’s trying to kill it. “She’s not good at doing her own eye shadow without looking like a hooker.”

Everyone’s just staring at Steve while he eats his burger, oblivious.

“What the fuck?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks over to the jock table. Tommy and Carol are both seated, glaring at the back of Steve’s head with poorly concealed jealousy. “You know,” Eddie says, looking away quickly before he accidentally meets either of the wonder twin’s eyes, “this actually explains so much.”

Barb sweeps her empty sandwich baggy into the trash like the middle-class girl she is and says, almost like she’s thinking about it, “I don’t think I can go on Nancy and Jonathan’s dates.”

Jeff, having finished his lasagna in silence, says, “Okay, they’re both freaks.”

“Here that Stevie?” Eddie asks, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulder and shaking him as he tries to swallow his bite of hamburger without choking. “You can stay!”

Steve takes another bite and talk around the mouthful like the heathen he is. “I was never going anywhere.”

Eddie smiles down at Steve, not dropping him as he takes a bite of his own lasagna. He lets the warmth in.

Part 42

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar

[thefreakandthehair]

@steddiemas day 1: deck the halls | wc: 1.2k | rated: m

Robin Buckley loves Christmas.

Like, really loves Christmas. If she could convince Steve to put the tree up in their little shitbox apartment the day after Halloween, she would. In fact, she'd tried last year but Steve reminded her that a live tree would be a needleless fire hazard by Christmas Day and she refuses to entertain the idea of a fake tree.

Absolutely not. Live tree or bust.

And this is how Steve ends up at the Christmas Tree Farm the day after Thanksgiving, dragged around with a fond if not tired smile as she checks tree after tree, pulling their branches, checking their strength and health.

"It has to be a Blue Spruce to hold those heavy ornaments from my parents, and none of these are Blue Spruces!" She bemoans, whipping her head around to glare at Steve. "Are you even helping?"

He rolls his eyes and sips the hot chocolate that warms him from the inside. "I'm here as moral support and to cut the thing down when you find it." Steve wiggles the little saw he'd been handed and nods her on.

Robin scoffs and marches back towards him. "I think there are some Blue Spruces in the lot towards the back."

Without a question, he turns on his heel and follows her. This isn't their first Christmas Tree Hunt so he knows the drill. No matter how much he actually hates Blue Spruces because the needles are sharp and stick him when they hang the lights, he'll never say a word. Not when it makes his best friend this happy.

Eventually, they make the trek through muddy grass and Robin does, in fact, find a Blue Spruce that makes her eyes light up in the hidden away lot.

"This is it," she beams. "This is the one."

"Perfect, here, hold this--" Steve hands her his mug and starts to lean down, only for the tree to start shaking.

A man in ripped jeans and Reeboks lies beneath the tree, his own saw just beginning to make its mark in the stump of the spiky, healthy Spruce.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing? This is our tree." Robin says, reaching through branches to hold it steady. "We were just about to cut it down, back off."

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not that he won't defend Robin's honor and get into a fight in a Christmas Tree Farm for her, he'd just really rather not.

The mystery man pokes his head out from under the tree with furrowed brows and two needles sticking out from the top of his head, dirt on his denim jacket that protects what looks like a red and black flannel. Steve's definitely been watching way too many Hallmark movies with Robin lately because holy shit, he's cute.

"Listen, my best friend wants this tree, and I don't even wanna be under here but if she doesn't get this Blue Whatever-The-Fuck, someone's halls are getting decked and it'll probably be mine. So, sorry." He shrugs and returns to his place under the tree. 

Robin looks at Steve, bewildered and frazzled simultaneously. Do something, she mouths. 

Like what? He mouths back, scrunching his face and contorting his mouth. 

She widens her eyes and jerks her head to the side, desperate. 

He should’ve known Robin would be responsible for his demise. 

“C’mon, man, we’ve been here for two hours looking for a tree.” Steve gets no response, just a few grunts that shouldn’t go straight to his crotch but what can he say? It’s been awhile.

He steps forward and lies down beneath the tree with the Tree Thief. “Is she here with you? Your best friend who seems as fucking rabid as mine is here about these trees?” 

Steve watches as the man focuses on the tree stump, rhythmic back and forth motions of the saw moving his torso along the ground with his tongue poking out between his lips. “Maybe I can talk to her? Or send Robin? She’s… convincing?” 

“Chrissy wants this one, dude. Hate to break it to you.” 

“Ah, okay. Robin and Chrissy. Well, I’m Steve, and you’re…?” 

The sawing stops as he catches his breath. “Eddie. I’m Eddie. And unless you’re gonna help under here, you might wanna move. I don’t wanna drop this on you.” 

Steve pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and takes a chance. Reaching out, he places one hand on top of Eddie’s. “Can I make you a deal?” 

Eddie startles, eyes flickering back and forth from the space where their hands touch on the rough bark of the tree up to Steve’s gaze. 

“Depends on the deal, I suppose.” Maybe Steve imagines the flush to his cheeks and the playful grin that blossoms across his lips. All he knows about Eddie is that his best friend’s name is Chrissy and that he has the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s maybe ever seen. 

Not maybe. Definitely. 

“Uh,” he shakes his head, trying to pull himself out of whatever Christmas romcom he thinks he’s living in. “What if we help you and Chrissy find another tree and I help you cut it down? I’ll even carry it to the car for you.” 

“What are you, some sort of lumberjack?”

“Nope,” he lowers his voice conspiratorially, joking as he leans closer, like an idiot. “Just desperate not to get my halls decked.” It earns him a genuine smile and surprised laugh punched from Eddie’s lungs. 

“Alright,” he taps the saw on the trunk and smirks over at Steve, mere inches apart beneath a Christmas tree. Close enough for the faint scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and Old Spice cologne to permeate the strength of the resinous spruce. “You help us find another tree, lug it to the car, and then meet me for coffee after? Seems like the least you can do, all things considered.” 

Trading numbers with the guy he met while bargaining for Robin’s dream Christmas tree isn’t the weirdest moment of his life, but it’s certainly on the shortlist. As is plucking rogue needles out of his hair when they come up from beneath the tree.

He ends up lugging two Blue Spruces to the parking lot an hour later in two trips— Robin chatting with Chrissy in front of them and Eddie at his side, gravitating closer and closer until their arms nearly touch. 

“You know, you didn’t actually have to do this,” Eddie says, moving away from Steve and to the other side of Chrissy's sedan to help tie the tree to the roof. “You’re not like, actually obligated or whatever.” 

Steve finishes tying his end of the knot and looks across at Eddie, finding him standing with hopeful eyes and a piece of hair drawn in front of his face. 

“Oh, I know.” He smiles and shrugs. “But I want to. Especially the coffee-with-you-after part.” 

“Not until we get this thing up and decked, Munson!” Chrissy pops up next to Eddie at the same time Robin appears next to Steve, both of them practically bouncing on their heels and grinning ear to ear. 

Robin nudges Steve in the side and he looks down to see her phone held out, Chrissy’s number typed into her contacts with a tiny pink heart to it. He gives her a subtle, excited thumbs up from below Eddie and Chrissy’s view beneath the car. 

Eddie slings an arm across Chrissy’s shoulders and ruffles her hair before she fixes her ponytail, indignant. 

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs. “I’ll uh, I’ll text you?” 

Eddie nods and turns himself and Chrissy towards the front of the car. As he gets in the passenger seat, he looks back at Steve with a mischievous wink most likely emboldened by Steve’s brash flirtation. 

“The sooner, the better.”

[weebsinstash]

So like, in the finale there's that shot where the Vees are in Val's section in the Vee Tower, and there's VERY OBVIOUSLY AN OLD PHOTO OF VOX AND ALASTOR

and obviously i have some thoughts and ideas about that BUT I was listening to the song again and I couldn't help but have my eyes drawn to the top left corner... zooom... enhance.... rotate...

VALENTINO SELF PORTRAIT SPOTTED? Because even though I think that's Vox's handwriting, I definitely don't think it's his art, because we've already seen his art and uh, yeah it's definitely not on this level of detail

kinda just sitting here now thinking about... you go up to Val's office at the studio to drop off something someone else asked you to deliver, but he's not there, so you set it down on his desk and can't help but find your eyes drawn to a notebook sitting on a side table with a bunch of pencils next to it and... you can't help but take a peek... and it's surprising how many different drawings are in there and you find it actually pretty impressive, but as you keep flipping the pages, it's like "OH, a drawing of me! That's... kinda weird but it looks so nice! And another of me! And... another... and another... and another... and why do these all have so much detail..."

You basically catch him with the equivalent of Miles Morales' sketchbook full of Gwen and OF COURSE when you close it to turn around and leave, OF COURSE he's behind you and he's SO EMBARRASSED because oh my GOD, you can't just look in an artist's sketchbook without asking?! That's private! He's just, red in the face, flustered, frazzled, squeaking, shouting at you asking what you think you're doing. I just picture you try to calm him down, "I didn't mean to look but your sketches are really good! I'm sorry, I got curious 🥺 I promise it won't happen again" and he's crossing his arms and his antenna are twitching and he's just pouting and grumbling, "just don't fucking do it again" and you avoid being maimed because, aw you complimented him he loves that ❤️

that awkward moment when you open a random sketchbook full of drawings and it turns out to be full of like straight up fucking FILTH, of YOU. Like maybe you're doing PA stuff in Vee Tower and Vox lost a journal full of contact info for something and you're poking around in Val's tower helping look for it because, well, Vox asked you for help! It's kind of an honor! This guy's an Overlord and you got the go ahead to poke around his house to help him look for something! So you're glancing at papers and finally picking up The Sketchbook, and... it's everything from just doodles of you chilling just sitting doing normal shit like being on your phone or asleep in the limo, to potential outfit ideas like DETAILED CUSTOM outfit ideas with TWO different sets of handwriting in the margins, to just straight up PORN. Sketches of you in bondage, tied up, gagged, in spreader bars, on your knees with your mouth gaping open with painfully familiar pink cursive handwriting in a speech bubble where 'you' are begging to taste the viewer, mouth open, tongue hanging out with a trail of spit connecting both of your lips--

AND THE BOOK IS SNATCHED OUT OF YOUR HANDS AS YOU SPIN AROUND TO SEE VALENTINO and he's all but like INFLATED with embarrassment, fur bunching up, antenna flailing, at a loss for words as he looks between you and his sketchbook like he is CAUGHT IN 4K. He would probably completelt deflect and try to act like you snooping is the bigger deal meanwhile you're like "hey dude was that like a full color fully shaded drawing of me in a custom coat that matches your wings and we're making out--" and you wind up having to just scurry away as he becomes incoherently angry and flustered and maybe even threatening you if you don't get out of his room RIGHT FUCKING NOW--

The next time you go to work your shift serving him drinks, he's shoving an outfit at you that you recognize from the sketchbook, a new uniform, and you can't help but notice Velvette looking you over as you serve the Vees drinks, almost as if she's admiring her handiwork...

[youmakemyhearthowl]

The first time Steve says I love you to Eddie is also the first time they kiss; Both are an accident.

Steve was late for work and his car wouldn’t start so he calls and asks Eddie to give him a ride, and they’ve been friends now for months so it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

But today Steve is just frazzled and all over the place and he’s sooo late for work Keith might fire him, if Robin doesn't kill him first so you can't really blame him for when he unbuckles leans over and plants a quick kiss on Eddies lips before calling over his shoulder as he gets out

“Thanks! Love you!”

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s done it till he’s clocked in and just kinda freezes in place staring at Robin.

“Oh my god.” He breaths out running a hand through his hair. “Oh my god Robin I kissed Eddie AND told him I love him.”

“Finally!” She cheers throwing her hands up in the air and smiling wide.(she’s been adding tallies to the You Suck board for months now)

“No, no Rob I did it like... like we’re already dating. Like when he dropped me off” and Robin looks a little lost so he explains it to her and the more he talks the more Robin breaks out into a big grin just laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile Eddie just kinda shrugs it off as like ‘straight dudes doing straight dude things’ and the next time Steve gives him a ride he returns the favor, leaving Steve red faced in the driver seat and Robin absolutely losing her shit in the back seat.

Robin is absolutely LOVEING this. She knows that Eddie likes Steve and Steve likes Eddie but they are both soooo stupid.

Eddie keeps trying to ask Robin if this is normal straight guy behavior and she just deadpans him

“Fuck if I know I’m a lesbian, dumbass”

It takes 5 days for them to finally figure out they both mean it. Max is just sitting on her front porch watching them when she just groans rolling her eyes

“Y’all are both so gay its painful, stop flirting and date already” She calls out, two faces bursting out in red at her words.

“Wait you’ve been flirting with me?” Eddie pulls a little strand of hair in front of his face

“Uh yea, have been for like... months man.”

“I thought you were straight?”

“Straight guys don’t go around kissing their guy friends on the mouth Eddie!”

[ughgoaway]

i guess this would be pre teacher/reader but i saw a tiktok about baby wearing and all i can think about is matty trying it with annie when she was much younger and him just going about his day with annie strapped to his chest asleep especially in the studio with the boys 🥺

anon. this has literally been rotting my brain since you sent it. I can't stop thinking about it.

I'm envisioning new dad matty, his mum has been staying with him for a few weeks and has just left and he is so fucking overwhelmed. it's been 2 hours and he can't get Annie to go to sleep, any time he tries to put her down she just screams bloody murder. and to make matters worse, he absolutely has to be at the studio in an hour to fix this song.

matty is shushing her and bouncing her around when he remembers something carly and Adam got him before Annie arrived, some weird baby wrap thing he never thought he'd use. he quickly scavenges around her room for it (Annie is still in his arms because he values his ear drums) and manages to find it squished behind some piles of clothes he has yet to put away.

at first when he pulls it out of the box, he is fucking baffled. it's just a long strip of stretchy fabric and matty has no idea what to do with it. but the second he puts her down to try and figure it out, the screaming starts again.

so he looks up a YouTube video, props his phone up against the kettle, and tries to follow this lovely woman's tutorial. it looks easy enough, tie a knot here, loop this bit through there, and so on.

it takes him a few goes. The first couple attempts look like matty lost a fight with this fabric, but soon enough... "Aha! fuck you stupid fabric!" he says triumphantly. he had to put Annie down to really figure it out so the last 10 minutes were filled with the desperate cries of his 3 month old but he thinks he's got it.

so he picks her up and slips her in, and there she is, wrapped up against his chest. and finally... silence. no cries. no screaming. just silence.

well annie might not be crying, matty feels pretty fucking close considering how exhausted he is. but any anger or frustration just melts away when he looks down at her, Annie's eyes have finally fluttered closed and she's fast asleep on his chest.

it brings him back to the day she was born, the skin to skin he did with her just minutes after. he'll never forget the instant love and complete devotion he felt in that moment. and having her now, slightly less gross, sitting fast asleep on him brings everything back.

before he starts crying (again) over how beautiful his daughter is and how much he loves her, he gets a disgruntled phone call from George who has been waiting outside for 5 mins to walk with matty to the studio.

now with both hands free matty can grab the baby bag, his phone and his keys and run down to meet George.

when he comes out George is leaning on the wall outside fully engrossed in his phone, that is until he catches a glimpse of matty and immediate begins to crack up.

"Oh, mother dearest, what do we have here?" he teases, walking over to matty whose eyes are sunken and hair is sticking up in every direction. last time George saw him this frazzled was after he first found out he was having Annie and wasn't exactly coping well with the news, how times have changed.

"Oh shut up, will you. she wouldn't stop crying unless I held her, and I quite like having 2 arms, so I grabbed this thing carly gave me and wrapped her up. and look how cute and happy she is, George. "

matty spins around and shows George Annie's sleeping face, and he's never seen his friend just immediately melt before his eyes. George simply gasps and brings his finger up to gently stroke her cheek, Annie grumbles slightly and wiggles but soon settles back into her place in her dad's chest.

"Dude." George says, flicking his eyes from Annie to matty, "she's the cutest baby ever. don't tell Adam and carly I said that, tho"

matty just laughs and nods, both men staring with such love at little Annie Healy.

she sleeps the whole walk there and through Adam and Ross arriving, who both have similar reactions to George. After the initial teasing, both men crumble at the sight of their best friend being a dad.

"god, how did you make something so cute??" Adam jokingly says.

"Can I try this wrap thing too??? you look stupid, but she's so happy I just need to do this, " says Ross, who's rubbing her back softly through the layers of fabric.

matty agrees and says once she's awake, he's free to have a try. She stays asleep for a little bit, but as soon as mattys voice rings out of the speakers, she perks up. Big brown eyes blinking up at matty with a gummy grin to match. Once each man sees that, they all want a turn wearing her.

of course, they somehow turn this into a competition.

Ross claims he's her favourite because Annie simply stares up at him with wide eyes the whole time she's strapped to him, smile not leaving her face. he even plays bass with her still attached to him, a new skill he's very proud of. he keeps his hair safely in his bun, though, not wanting her to get a grip. (Annie does later become obsessed with Ross' hair because who wouldn't?)

George claims he's the favourite because she makes the most gargling noises when he has her. he walks her around the room, talking to her and explaining the studio. "So this is soundproof padding Annie, basically it's so other people don't have to hear when your dad does a shit take" "Oi! don't swear at my child George. and don't slag me off!!"

adam claims he's the favourite because, "I'm just a natural. look how chill she is. " Annie is very chill with him, just kinda enjoying life and vibing. no nonsense, just a happy little girl.

matty knows she's happiest with him though, as soon as she feels the rhythm of his heart and smells her dad, she just falls right asleep. the closer she can get, the better.

so needless to say, the baby wrap is a hit, and Annie becomes the hottest fashion accessory for the men of the 1975. the day she finally grows out of it is a sad, sad day for them all.

(this is what I mean when I'm talking ab the wrap btw <3)

more blurbs for this au here!!

[teencopandthesourwolf]

SNIPPET SUNDAY

tagged by the lovely @outtoshatter to take part. but it's monday! i hear you cry... yeah, sue me. this is a stiles's-perpetually-open-bedroom-window sterek wip fic that is growing incredibly s l o w l y but growing none the less.

.

"I'm gonna buy you a bell to wear around that thick neck of yours, 'wolf," Stiles threatens, and thinks he might actually mean it.

"You'd have to buy me a collar, first."

And—what?

Maybe Stiles isn't actually awake yet.

He thought he heard the sourwolf making a dog joke. Actually, forget the canine inclusion, that part doesn't even matter...

Derek Hale just made a joke.

Stiles must look incredulous as fuck because Derek's face softens a little. Hell, the big guy almost smiles, his smooth lips twitching adorably.

Stiles's frazzled brain needle scratches dramatically.

Then, it backtracks a little.

"Wait, how did you know I was having a nightmare?" he asks, momentarily puzzled. He wipes a clammy arm across his clammy face, waiting for his mind to whirr into action.

Derek must've—

Oh.

"Dude, were you hanging around outside my window?"

Derek looks shifty.

Well, shiftier than usual.

.

tagging, play or nay: @shealynn88 @sharkfish @novemberhush @greyhavenisback @ohhalefire @jmeelee @wolfspurr @nerdherderette and any others i can't think of rn that i should be tagging plus anybody else at all who wants to do the thing; just feel free to say i tagged you xp

[hush-writes-preg]

Man, I'm still thinking about that chambermaid snippet you wrote and it's kind of developed into it's own daydream. It's definitely got my own twist to it since it's turned into a fantasy, buuut I thought I'd toss it to ya.

In my head it goes a little something like this. There's a petite transmasc person who's lovers with an important lord who is also married. Said lord is kind of emotionally distant and unfriendly but eventually this lil dude worms his way from in the general court to right up in said Lord's personal social circle. Eventually, an arrangement is founded with the Lord, his wife, and this trans guy, after the wife is assumed to be infertile after years of not conceiving, that he will be a kind of willing concubine for him.

So ofc, Lord guy starts absolutely plowing him on the reg. And also still his wife. And in some fucking miracle of nature they both actually manage to get pregnant.

The wife is sick most of the pregnancy, she's got all the negatives, the bloating, the headaches, the nausea, etc- The concubine has the opposite experience, round, full, glowing, insane sex drive, the whole shebang. So Wifey starts to resent him a little bit.

Story concludes with them both going into labor at the same time. For whatever reason or another there's no medical attendants around or even any chambermaids to help so they have to help each other.

The wife is having a really hard time. She's in a lot of pain, pushing, panting, moaning, but it feels stuck. The concubine on the other hand by that point has a head directly lodged into his pelvis, but he's sat himself on the ground to help her in such a way that he's purposefully not progressing, instead making the effort to help her.

They're both soaked in sweat. The wife is screaming, her labor pains immense and almost impossible to withstand, and she's barely making any progress. Meanwhile the pressure inside the Concubine is nearly orgasmic. He's so close to crowning now, and he's on edge. He's borderline delirious and every movement causes waves of bittersweet pain and pleasure through his entire midsection. He knows if he were too shift too much now, he'd likely succumb to his body's increasing need to push.

After maybe hours of labor, the Wife finally manages to push the shoulders out and her baby comes out with a gush of fluid. She probably thinks the Concubine is still in the earlier stages of labor given how they've had their legs practically glued shut this entire time.

The wife is absolutely like, destroyed. Hair is all frazzled, covered in sweat and various other body fluids, all sticky, just generally having a bad time. But she kind of snaps out of the post-birth haze when the other guy starts to pant rapidly.

She watches as the Concubine's body start to spasm as they shift their position. They give a loud yelp as with an intense sudden ferocity, the Concubine pushes once and their own baby gushes out of them with orgasmic fury.

-🛸

What an incredible scenario, 🛸 anon!

I love the thought of the Concubine struggling to hold his own labor in check while helping the Wife, knowing that she needs every bit of support he can give her during this time. Meanwhile, his body is doing wild things to him, on the cusp of edging while his baby slides lower and lower.

Imagine the Concubine slouching forward as his hips instinctively rise, opening up just enough room for that long-delayed baby to finally surge forward. It's just enough to set him off and into one of the most intense orgasms of his life. 💖

[fullofgutsndopamine]

Because The Road Home (leads me right to your door)

TW: she/her pronouns, drinking to excess, cursing, sloppy drunks

Neighbour au in which one gets drunk and ends up knocking at the other’s door, drunkenly trying to argue with the neighbor and- instead- passing out in their living room.

“No because like that’s the problem with Christmas, right?” she licks her lips, leans in closer to the person next to her, “Because it’s a capitalist hell hole we live in-“

somehow, the person next to her is even more drunk than she is, swaying in place with slanted eyes.

“No, dude.” He slurs, “you’re right. like-“

she tries to pay attention to him speaking, looks at his lips as he talks and rests the rim of an overused solo cup to her lips. it’s filled to the brim with red wine, which has sloshed over multiple times and stained the front of her white sweater already, a problem for later.

She’s enough drinks in to have false confidence, can feel her lips buzz and her fingers tingle. Confident enough to interrupt her friend in front of her, she finally speaks:

“y’know what?” she stops long enough to hiccup.

Your equally drunk friend, Geoff, nods, doesn’t even care that she interrupted him mid thought (and the thoughts were fleeting) “Go on.” he encourages her.

“I’m gonna go in and finally give that fucking neighbor next door a piece of our mind.”

Geoff nods, immediately sold:

“the one with the music?”

“yes!” she’s borderline yelling, “the fucker with the music. i’m tired of everyone here not being able to study because of him.”

Geoff nods once: “do it.” he pauses for a second, a smirk snaked onto his lip: “i dare you.”

and that’s all she needs to stumble across the lawn, yelling the entire time, working herself up-when she looks back Geoff is gone, probably distracted, but the red hot anger from the alcohol still burns warm in her chest, finds herself as he fist raises to the door and the blows land

“i know you’re there, fucker.”

Suddenly aware of how cold it is, she rubs her hands along her arms as if that will offer warmth, make a jacket appear like magic. she can hear the music from inside; not as loud as usual, but enough to build the hot anger up that swells in her stomach until her hand rests along the door again

as if he planned it, the door whips open and a frazzled man answers.

“Hello?”

his voice borders on panic, or worry, you aren’t sure which, but you push it down.

“you.”

a smirk appears on his lips, takes over his mouth as he leans against the doorframe, crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly the picture perfect, calm man now.

“Me?” he muses. immediately, he can tell she’s past drunk; swaying in place, the slurring words, the squinted eyes

she’s had run ins with him before but on a much milder scale-bringing mail to him when Geoff is too awkward to drop it off. the time he came home early and pulled into his driveway was she fed a stray that was attracted to his front porch for some reason-

“Yes-you!” she huffs, a stomped foot. finding the confidence that rolls and snakes around in your belly she takes a step forward and presses a finger hard into his chest:

“you and your music!”

“my music?” he giggles, “what about my music, princess? hm?”

“To begin with,” she removes her finger from his chest long enough to tick them off on her fingers: “it’s loud.”

“Right,” hasan nods, “go on, then.”

“and! and it’s obnoxious.”

“obnoxious,” he muses, “that sure is a word to use. maybe not the right word-“

“And!”

she tries again and he laughs, stands up a little straighter: “oh damn, I thought we were done. I have to hear this. Off you go, then.”

“Like i was trying to say!” her head spins and she rests her hand on the doorframe, knocking his own off in the move to do so, “and it’s-“

“princess?” he finally manages, though it still sounds like he’s holding in a laugh, “you alright?”

“of course i am.”

“right,” he nods, “i believe you were giving me a verbal lashing on my music. you were on reason two, if that helps.”

“it’s a long list.”

“i got the time.”

“stop mansplaining to me,” she hiccups, the world around her spins and comes in and out of color, “like i was saying-“

“you know,” he says, half a step towards her, “i actually have something in the oven to check on. come inside for a second-“

“i’m not done.”

“i know you aren’t, princess.” he holds in the eye roll, takes a step towards her and holds her by the elbow. “come on.”

carefully, his hand rests on her elbow, the other on her lower back as he carefully watches her take the small step inside, closes the door behind her.

“i don’t know where i am.”

her voice borders on being sad, eyes glassy as she looks around. it’s a nice house, she’ll allow herself to say; a light purple wall, decorated with paintings and framed books line the shelves-small planted flowers crawl and creep towards the sun, surprisingly well taken care of-

she takes a step to investing the titles on the wall and hasan drops her:

“no you don’t,” he says gently, “cmon, we’re getting water.”

“i can do it myself.”

“i’m sure you can, princess. but you don’t know where you are-“

“it’s not like i could get lost.” she hiccups but allows him to pull her into the kitchen, gently push her into the chair.

“wouldn’t put it past you.” he hums gently as he places a hand next to her as if she’s a dog and making sure she isn’t going to move-before retreating to a well decorated refrigerator, adorned with magnets and postcards, coming back with a bottle of water that he twists off with the bottom of his shirt before sliding it to her.

“not thirsty.”

she goes to push it away but guesses where it is incorrectly and almost knocks it off before hasan catches it barely in time.

he holds in the sigh for the fifth time in ten minutes.

“one sip.”

“i’m not a child, hasan.” she goes to bat it out of the way but misses again, knocks some onto her lap.

“nooo,” she moans, eyes watering again, “my shirts ruined.”

she pulls at the stained sweater as if she’s seeing the red wine stains for the first time.

“i’ll make you a deal, princess.” he sits in the chair next to her and leans in close enough to her for her to smell his cologne: “you drink half this water and i’ll get you a new shirt.”

she hiccups, weighs the options.

“Tempting, i know.” he sing songs, holds the water out to her, and too tired to argue she rolls her eyes and accepts it.

“fine,” she huffs, “only so you’ll shut up.”

he nods, zips his lips, throws the key over his shoulder: “you stay here,” he continues, “don’t move.”

“i bet you were really bad at the quiet game growing up.”

finally, a laugh breaks through: light, carries through the house and she’s glad, even in a drunken state, that she hasn’t been too mean to him.

as soon as the sight of his yellow sweater disappears from view she makes her way to the front room, where the untouched vinyls and book jackets lay. her fingers run over the spines, worn with use and time, well loved and she cracks one open and sees the folded pages, the slanted writing in the margins. when the world becomes shaky and slanted again she holds onto them fireplace, the table, the side of the couch until she allows herself to collapse onto the couch, on her back as she rests the book on her belly-

“magic and love have two things in common, namely how easy both are to fuck up-“

her lips move as her eyes try to focus on the pages, on the small type and the way the words appear off the page dance and wave around in the air in front of her

“-which is exactly why she swore both off-“

the sound of the book hitting the floor doesn’t stir her. eyes heavy and fallen already, she falls into the drunken stupor that threatened to happen for hours.

rooms away, hasan knew the second he heard the fall what happened

“fucker.”

slowly, he folds the shirt in his hands, makes his way to the kitchen and grabs the untouched water, the bottle of aspirin out of the counter. finds the notepad shoved in his junk drawer and uses his nicest writing to try and ease her mind when she wakes up:

you fell asleep on the couch and i didn’t want to wake you. you’re at the neighbor with the loud musics house (hasan) bathroom is upstairs on the left. feel free to take this shirt for your stained one. Take three aspirins. my room is upstairs on the right if you need anything. you’re free to go when you wake up, but i do make an amazing omelette. get me if you need anything. -h

he shoves it with the shirt before he can second guess it. makes his way to the front room and sets the water, note and shirt on the table. picks the book up and sets it next to it. grabs the blanket over the back of the couch and throws it over her gently, holds his breath to see if she stirs and when he doesn’t, makes his way upstairs, hoping his morning starts with making an omelette.

[bomberqueen17]

great great great

It's all going great, it is. I'm frazzled for no real reason. But it's going.

Wednesday it snowed and the contractors showed up later than they meant to; it was almost 9 when the van pulled in to the neighbor's driveway and I opened my front door and said "over here man" and the guy was like "ah whoops there's the house number" and we laughed.

Description and photos behind the cut, this got long, but anyway this is why I dont' have a chapter ready to go this week either >.>

The demolition crew was two guys, a white dude about five feet five named Andrew with a piercing voice and impeccable manners, and a taller quiet Black dude named Dave. They put plastic sheeting over the doors out of the kitchen and proceeded to just wreak mayhem in there. The "installer", who I assume is kind of a project lead from the way everyone talked about him, wasn't present, he was tying up loose ends on a previous job. ("We had a third party doing vinyl and they just walked out and didn't finish it," Andrew told Dave. "I thought we didn't use third parties," Dave mused. "Yeah," Andrew said, "well that's why we don't." I loved how sharp Andrew's voice was because I could eavesdrop even over all the crashing noises.)

Andrew never swore in my presence but again, piercing voice, so I heard him explain to Dave, "I fucked myself over on these jobs tho, one of the early ones for this company I had extra time and they were like keep yourself busy somehow so we can pay ya, and I was like okay and I went through and I pulled all the staples and left the place so clean and nice, and now they expect me to do that every time. But it means I always get the job, the installers request me, because I'm gonna pull all the staples." I have no idea what was stapled, but I do believe him, because Dave was like "okay okay I'll pull the staples" and then I never saw any staples.

He was done by about 3:30 pm, to his own surprise. "Thought we'd need another half day, especially with the late start I got, on the road for an hour like that," he said (he was commuting up from the snow belt, and while our area had gotten three inches, they'd gotten over a foot down there, and nobody was handling it well on the roads.) "I didn't work slow, but I took my time, but everything came off so clean I'm all set here and it's done."

[image description: My kitchen before work started. Yellow linoleum floor in poor condition, brown wood cabinets, white and yellow linoleum countertops on a little L-shaped area, and a half-wall dividing the room partially so it's a tiny kitchen and a tiny dinette.]

[image: the work in progress, from the other door of the kitchen. The half-wall of the leg of the L is still visible as framing. The linoleum is gone, peeled back to wooden subflooring. The plaster walls are gone, down to the bare studs. The electric fixtures are hanging from the ceiling. in the foreground, Andrew is leaning on a four-foot stepladder, on his phone; in the background, Dave is in a fluorescent yellow hoodie on his knees on the floor scraping up the remnants of the linoleum underlayment.]

There is not a scrap of insulation in those walls. I asked Andrew and he laughed and was like "usually there isn't, in houses like this one".

When he left the half-wall frame was gone, and all of it was hauled out to a dump trailer in the driveway, neatly stowed, and the room was immaculate.

[image: an empty room with bare wall studs. The new windows are white frames. You can see the sink pipe, and the drainpipe vent going up toward the roof, jogged around the window. You can also see, under the bay window, the reinforced framing in the wall to support the original, much smaller picture window that used to be there.]

So that was day one. Day two, The Installer showed up. A fiftysomething moustachioed man named Jim, with the soft-spoken sort of mumbly variant of the local dialect that Dude's dad spoke too-- I had forgotten, Hap (yes dude's dad's name was really Hap) died twenty years ago now, but I did know him-- he did this kind of work, too-- anyway, Jim was more reserved than Andrew, but I made a point of greeting him, and made a point of mildly swearing fairly early in the conversation in like a funny way. A little later another guy showed up, a younger guy named Chad, and Jim explained later that Chad was finished with his project and looking to fill some time so he'd come to help and Jim was glad of the help. Chad set to work demolishing the last half-wall that was supposed to come out-- Andrew hadn't because Jim wanted to put in some bracing beforehand, since the wall's load-bearing and they're going to put in reinforcements to support it a little later.

I came out to look, and apologized for being nosy, and Chad laughed and said "it's your house!" and then mimed hitting the wall with the sledgehammer again and said "Bam!" quietly, like showing that he understood that it was fun to do/watch, and I proceeded to watch in delight as he carefully demolished the plaster wall and carefully removed the light switches and thermostat wiring from the remains.

Jim laughed at me and Chad, and after that has been much warmer to me. i've been well-trained to stand out of the way, and have come to watch them do various things.

[Image: Clean new 2x4s arranged into a temporary brace from ceiling to floor, with a stepladder threaded through it, extending along a space about two feet into the room from where the half-wall was just demolished, to hold the load of the rest of the house. The light switches are dangling and the heat vent poking up out of the floor is just a hole.]

Unfortunately they needed me to clear out a section of the basement where I'd deemed it safe to store things, because there need to be reinforcements put in under the pillars and beam that are replacing the load-bearing wall. I worked on that, and they came and helped me move a table. The heat vent has to be moved, and Jim thought there was going to have to be some whole thing with concrete but midway through the day he had called someone to confirm and they were like what are you talking about and he was delighted to discover he was reading an earlier version of the proposal, and the final contract had said that he could just reinforce a floor joist and meet code that way, rather than having to demolish part of my basement floor to pour a new concrete footing for a new jack post for a pillar to support the corner of the kitchen. He explained this to me with wonderful clarity, and pointed out other places where the original builders of the house had used this same doubled floor joist reinforcement.

Meanwhile the company hauled away the dump trailer with all the demolition debris, and then showed up with a flatbed with all the drywall and insulation for my project, which they put into my garage-- which coincidentally I'd just cleaned out because we'd just had the garage door replaced (on Tuesday, that finally happened, which is great because that was the last possible day it could have happened ha ha no that didn't stress me out at all why do you ask), so anyway it was great to have a good spot to put all that. They even moved the snowblower so it'd be easy to get to, before they filled up the space with the drywall.

Today (Friday) Jim's back by himself, cutting out the old heat vent and extending it to the other side of the room, where it will come up through the kickplate of one of the cabinets. This means that cabinet will be warm and also whoever sits at the table built in to the window will have warm toes, so I approve. Probably Chita is going to want to sit there so we're going to have to figure out how to make room for that, LOL.

Tomorrow Dude's mom is leaving to travel for Christmas, and we're going to go over to her house to house-sit. I think Jim won't have any more questions for me by then, or so I hope-- I'm going to give him my number anyway, and review with him that he's got the house key and everything he needs.

We are living in the living room like gremlins, and have to move sideways through the space because it's so crammed. It was all fine and good until we forgot we'd need to put the stove in there too, and now it's a struggle. And the microwave can't be on the same circuit with the fridge, so if I want to microwave something I have to use an extension cord going into the kitchen. So I can't microwave my lunches. And even still sometimes it trips the circuit breaker. Me having pre-prepared a bunch of food to microwave is now kind of a bummer, because the damn circuit breaker tripping is so annoying and slightly scary.

[image: Haunted-house-looking-ass-shit-- the thermostat is taped to the temporary bracing with painter's tape, and the light switches controlling the pale yellow light that's illuminating the scene are just dangling from their wires into the dark room.]

Today Jim's working on that heat vent and then figures he can get the floor underlayment in. He's cautiously optimistic that the project can be done before Christmas-- they said it would be six weeks, with the kitchen "roughly usable" after three, and he explained it more to me yesterday as he was about to leave.

So once he has the underlayment in, then Monday and Tuesday ("mondee-chusdee", in his accent) the electricians can come, and "chusdee-wensdee" the plumber can come. (He'll mark out the locations of all the cabinets and heights of the counters in painter's tape, he said, so the electricians can work confidently to place the outlets and fixtures.) The plumber will move the stove gas line and the refrigerator water line (Jim was so casually contemptuous of the way the installers had plumbed the waterline for our fridge when we bought it last year. "We'll do it right," he said, "with a water box and a shutoff up behind the fridge so you can work on it from there, we won't use a little plastic hose." He sniffed. "We'll repair this." The installers had used one of those lil sharkbite things I think, to put a little T into the waterline so a plastic tube could thread up through the floor to the fridge. "These things are-- well they're easy for a homeowner to install," Jim said not unkindly, "but they're, well, they're kind of trash."), and will bring the sink standpipe up to code-- it's not bad but it's very 1950-- and then after that, Jim can come back-- but he's got some vacation coming up, he's going to Florida to see his mom, so his colleague Max who's out sick this week ("I told him we didn't need to share whatever he's got, he's a giving guy but it's okay to keep that to himself") will be taking over but it should be pretty seamless-- anyway he explained the master-carpentering things he's gotta do, including building the cabinets and such, which'll take a while. The cabinets get built-in, and then the flooring is installed afterward to butt up against them (the flooring doesn't go under the cabinets because they're not movable, but it does go under the appliances since those are movable), and once the cabinets are in he can get the final measurements to the countertop people, who then take seven-ten days to manufacture the countertop to spec. So that's the delay, he explained-- the appliances can come in and get hooked up, and then you have your stove and your fridge and you can kind of use your kitchen. But the countertop people have this delay before they can install, and that's always where the project feels like it's dragging and people get frustrated, but it's unavoidable. He was delighted to be told that we won't be in the house at that point, we're gonna be house-sitting and won't be breathing down his neck about it. And if we do have to move back in here before the countertops we'll know what's up anyway.

Anyway. "Six weeks is a kinda CYA," he said, "yanno? We wanna leave space for problems. But this is a pretty straightforward job and I don't think we'll have problems." His goal is to have his end of the work done in time for the countertop people not to have to spread their seven-ten day lag out over Christmas and make it even longer. "If I can avoid that, they can get their install done before Christmas, and we can be done," he said. "That'd be pretty great."

So there's that scoop. I ought to be finding this relaxing, as all I've had to do is be like, available, and I've mostly had my days to myself, but I have found it so stressful to listen to all the crashing and such I haven't really gotten much done. Oh well, it's okay.

I am doing a little mini sewalong with some Discord buddies of a Sew Liberated blouse pattern. So I'll have photos of that at some point. I did manage to get the fabric cut even with my house torn up, which is a considerable achievement.

[fromepiximagines]

Be Still My Heart (Kenny Liu x fem!reader)

Summary: Kenny is relieved to see you safe after the awful night he spent at the station with Sara.

Word count: 920

Request: Hey theeeeeere! Thank you for replying to me and good luck with uni! Soooo ofc do it whenever u can and pls take your time! But I would reaaaally love smth fluff with Kenny x fem reader anything you want! Also 3rd person it's perfectly fine I love it don't worr about anything love💗💗💗

Rating: T

Warnings: spoilers for s2e9 and 10 of From, swearing, reader wears glasses, hugs, use of (Y/N), one (1) kith.

“This sucks.” (Y/N) mumbled.

Hidden in Victor’s old hideout, the one he so kindly showed her a few days before – ‘In case you wander too much’, he said -, she tried not to make any noises. There was no talisman inside, which meant the monsters outside could get in if they managed to unlock the tailgate.

It has been many, many hours since she got here alone, after going out to empty her head; people were dying, one after the other, more than ever before, and now they couldn’t sleep.

“Keep your eyes open, shitstain.” The woman whispered to herself, rubbing her eyes, back leaning against the metal wall. Her sight was trained on the tailgate, wondering why in the fuck she would wander off near nighttime – never again.

And then, a sliver of light passed by a tiny opening on the metal.

Too bright to be a flashlight.

(Y/N) scrambled up, face dangerously close to the cold metal, and peeked out.

“Sun, my beloved!” She shouted, and turned around. With ever raising excitement, she opened the latch and slid up the tailgate; the warm rays of sunshine hit her face with full force, and she leaped down onto the dewy grass.

The woman ran down the familiar path towards the town; by the diner, she waved at Mrs. Liu, Victor and Ethan, smiling as she saw the familiar faces.

“Morning, Jade!” (Y/N) shouted, slowing down as the curly-haired man left the bar with a frazzled look, some book in his hands.

“Where the hell have you been?!” He shouted back, brows furrowed.

“I was taking a walk, dude.” She replied, staring at him. “Where the fuck are you going, looking like my conspiracy theory uncle?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Don’t die!”

Jade grumbled something under his breath and left as (Y/N) headed, now walking at a decent pace, towards the Liu’s house.

The familiar sight of closed windows and an open door greeted the woman as she neared the place. She saw Sara leave the house with Boyd; nodded at them, and did her best to ignore the way her heart ached as her eyes focused on the man right behind the duo.

“Kenny.”

The ex-deputy looked up as (Y/N) whispered his name, brown eyes widening as he took in her messy appearance. Her hair was sticking up in weird angles, dark circles adorned her eyes (nothing new there, to be honest), and her glasses were kinda askew on her face.

A few seconds was all it took for the freckled man to run up to his friend and pull her into a tight hug. His arms circled her shoulders, and she sighed; he was warm. He smelled good. He was soft, comfortable-

She was sleep deprived.

“You’re alive.” Kenny said softly, nose nestled in the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“Last I checked, yes.”

“I was worried, you dumbass.” He leaned back, staring into her eyes.

The tension between them was palpable as they locked eyes, the weight of their emotions hanging in the air. Kenny's words had hit her hard, stirring a whirlwind of worry within her. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached up to cup his cheeks, her touch gentle and filled with a mixture of affection and regret. Her thumbs traced tender circles against his skin, feeling the warmth gradually spread beneath her touch, a sign of their shared vulnerability.

With every passing moment, their faces drew closer, their breaths mingling. Their noses almost brushed against each other, creating a delicate connection that mirrored the fragile state of their hearts. It was a moment suspended in time, charged with longing and the unspoken desire for solace.

She mustered the courage to ask, her voice filled with a blend of uncertainty and hope, "I'm sorry... Can I kiss you?"

Kenny's response was barely a whisper, yet it carried the weight of his longing, "Please."

In that instant, their lips met, a gentle collision of souls seeking solace and reassurance. It was a tender, tentative kiss, born out of a shared understanding of their vulnerabilities. Their worries and fears melted away, replaced by a rush of affection and the undeniable connection between them.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the softness of the moment. The world around them faded away, leaving only the sensation of their lips moving in sync, a dance of tenderness and forgiveness. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, expressing their unspoken apologies, their longing, and the depth of their feelings for one another.

In that single, stolen moment, they found solace and healing, their hearts intertwining in a profound embrace. And as they pulled away, breathless yet content, they knew that their bond had grown stronger, fortified by the power of their shared vulnerability and the healing a simple kiss could offer.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Boyd’s voice rang out, and the couple finally remembered there was an audience near them. “But we need Kenny right now, (Y/N).”

The woman felt her own face warm up now, and slowly let go of her friend’s face, arms hanging limply by her side.

“I’ll see you soon.” Kenny whispered, a small smile on his handsome face. “Really soon.”

“Be careful, okay?” (Y/N) whispered back, gaining a nod and a grin in response.

“Always.”

Right then and there, as she watched the trio walk off towards the forest, the woman sighed, with a lovestruck smile on her face.

“Be still, my fucking heart.”

Permanent taglist: @tiredwritersworld

I forgot the taglist, sorry guys :')

[unhingedkinfessions]

ok so we all know and love my bestie luigi. so he. may or may not have remade kin home depot (the server he made in retaliation against walmart, but has been deleted for a number of years) and guess who comes in !!! out of nowhere !!!! KIN WALMART MARIO. and me, along with a couple others who were around for the walmart hellscape, were understandably pretty frazzled that this dude was being allowed back into this space.

so luigi dms me and is all “so ive been talking with him and we reconciled so its all good” and thats fine and dandy, im all for people changing so good for you dude. but then the rest of us from before were all “hey, you kinda fucked us up pretty badly and we think the rest of us Also deserve an apology” but then. mario starts going on about how he doesnt remember Any of us other than the people he still spoke to (the ones who decided to kick us all out). so idk about the others but me personally, i was fairly bitter over (and still am) but i was like. yk what whatever. ill be civil and cool for now unless something goes wrong. a couple weeks pass and then luigi dms me again. to tell me that he has news. dude drops the biggest bomb ever by going (heavily paraphrased) “hey yeah so i broke up with my partner of like 4 years because mario said he was bad and now im being driven halfway across the country to live with him!”

my confusion was. Insane. and it still is. oh yeah the person who is driving him is also the person who groomed him because theyre besties now too apparently. whatever i guess lmao

since the walmart guys came back around ive been distancing myself a lot, but i Am very curious to see how this blows up in his face. sorry luigi, we were besties until you switched up on me

(also i hope you guys are well and that you all had a nice break from the blog. wishing you all the best vibes <33)

-kin walmart anon

well god damn this one hit like a sack of wet mice !

genuinely this sounds terrifying on luigi’s behalf and im scared for that guy i hope shit doesnt turn out really fucked up ig ??

glad to have you back ig (silly)

[cee-grice]

OC Deep Dive Tag

I haven't done a tag game in foreverrrr (gonna need to clear out the backlog eventually), and thought I'd hit it off again with this one:D got tagged by @pandoras-comment-box, thank you!! you can check out their post here

Rules: answer the following questions for your OCs

going with the main ones, Quil and Endra (I keep wanting to say Endra and Quil, as if Endra's the protagonist, and I think that sums up my favoritism well)

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Quil: the ocean. also space. there's something about the vast unknown that's fucking terrifying y'know (I get him)

Endra: needles and other sharp objects (doctors hate him! (except Quil:) ))

Do they have any pet peeves?

Quil: too many to count 😭 mostly social things, though - he especially has a thing about improper manners (assuming the person Is aware of proper manners)

Endra: being treated as immature (he is, in fact, immature)

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Quil: too many books... ink bottles... plates (because eating in the kitchen is for losers!)

Endra: piano, cat (does that count as an item??), drawings

What do they notice first in a person?

Quil: this is setting-specific, but whether or not they have visible magical mutations, then their fashion (this informs him of their culture and thus expected social etiquette)

Endra: their facial expressions/body language (to see how friendly they seem)

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Quil: 10/10, dude could walk off a bullet wound

Endra: like a solid 5/10

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Quil: depends on the pressure! normally, fight mode, but if it's related to his Trauma, then flight (or freeze) all the way babey

Endra: fight fight fight

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Both are an only child, actually! Quil's parents wanted more, but he required so much attention because of medical stuff that they just couldn't afford to, and Endra was an accident lol

Quil used to be very close with his parents, but, well. shit happened lmfao. and Endra absolutely despises his mother ahaha (but would like his own family someday!)

What animal represents them best?

Quil: a snake (but not in the stereotypical 'grrr he's a snake' way! snakes deserve better>:()

Endra: puppy :) (he'd hate that)

What is a smell that they dislike?

Quil: the smell of dye

Endra: nothing in particular

Have they broken any bones?

Quil: he's shattered bones beyond recognition, does that count

Endra: probably lol

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Quil: so polite! so helpful! what a charming young man, not sure what everyone's on about, calling him a 'menace' ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Endra: kind of quiet and reserved at first, but once comfortable, way too excitable and talkative, I should probably be annoyed but I'm unwillingly endeared by his enthusiasm

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Quil: sleep is for the weak <3 (so...both.)

Endra: he'll be the first out and the last up

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

(I actually wrote about this one lol)

Quil: he avoids anything sweet like the plague, and loves to oversalt everything (it's borderline inedible to others, and his heart will definitely not thank him for it)

Endra: he doesn't hate anything in particular, and baked apples <3

Do they have any hobbies?

Quil: he actually really enjoys reading fairytales, but he's pretty much obsessed with biochemistry, so that's what most of his time goes into lol

Endra: playing the piano!:) and drawing:) and traveling (that's a new one)

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Quil: he'd be frazzled for a second, but then he'd snap into the expected role (that'd also be his reminder that it's his birthday)

Endra: he'd be delighted (but only if there weren't too many people present)

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Quil: jewelry is big where he's from, and he's into it, too. he usually opts for more discreet and delicate stuff, though

Endra: he wouldn't go out of his way to get/wear it, but if it was a gift, he would

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Quil: very neat, but in the over-practiced way

Endra: um. um. hard to say, because he doesn't know how to write ahaha

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Quil: reaaaally depends which timeline we're in (pre-death or post-death). in pre-death, endearment and determination. in post-death, anxiety and stress and panic and anxiety (you try to remain calm post your own death :|)

Endra: excitement and paranoia

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Quil: probably silk tbh (yeah, he's that kind of person)

Endra: linen 🔛🔝

What kind of accent do they have?

Quil: in the text, I describe it as 'lilting and honeyed'. in terms of speaking mannerisms, he somewhat adapts to his company, but usually it's quite proper and 'clinical', always impeccably polite (unless you've slighted him, then he'll go for the fucking jugular)

Endra: warm and soft, but if he were to speak in a different language, he'd sound kind of rough. he speaks quicker than thinks, so he often cuts himself off and restarts lol. tends to ramble (especially when stressed)

softly tagging @mrbexwrites, @sam-glade, @rodentwrites, @raevenlywrites, @eccaiia, @amaiguri and anyone else who'd want to!

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Do they have any pet peeves? What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? What do they notice first in a person? On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? What animal represents them best? What is a smell that they dislike? Have they broken any bones? How would a stranger likely describe them? Are they a night owl or a morning bird? What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Do they have any hobbies? Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Do they like to wear jewelry? Do they have neat or messy handwriting? What are the two emotions they feel the most? Do they have a favorite fabric? What kind of accent do they have?