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lesservillain · 9 months

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—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week.

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate.

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you’ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone.

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you.

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself.

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face.

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor.

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief.

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle.

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly.

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks.

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again.

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all.

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone.

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner.

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening.

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening.

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself.

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more.

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents.

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him.

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light.

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light.

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries.

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode.

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most.

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?”

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.”

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence.

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day.

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress.

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen.

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever.

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour.

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup.

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label.

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later.

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights.

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day.

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them.

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson st #canon divergent #eddie lives #eddie munson lives #eddie munson slow burn

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thiswaytwoinfinity · 8 months

Text

color up my skies – bob floyd x fem!reader

Bob Floyd is always beautiful. But there’s something about the way the sunset makes his skin glow and the way that Montana drawl makes your toes curl that means you need to have him … even if you’re on the side of the road.

a/n: finally my entry for IBFFM is complete! This is the first fic I have actually written in months and it feels fitting that it would be for Bob, who stole my heart and introduced me to the TGM fandom. I love it here, y’all. I hope you enjoy my offering.

warnings: smut (18+ only) oral (m receiving), fingering, grinding, unprotected piv (in my mind she’s on bc), praise and breeding kink if you squint, truck sex so kind of public?

tagging @attapullman as a thank you for founding the hottest holiday ever 😉 and a h/t to @withahappyrefrain whose post about bob babbling when he gets close rewired something in my brain

Bob Floyd was always beautiful.

You could list a million instances when you felt stunned by him — when he was bobbing his head along to the music at the Hard Deck, observing his fellow Daggers; rumpled and bleary-eyed in the morning, waiting for his ancient coffee maker to hurry up; standing on your front porch and staring at you in awe, despite the fact that you’ve been together for over a year; flushed and panting with fogged up glasses as he lifts his head up from between your thighs — and still think of more.

But right now, with the pink and orange rays of the fading sunlight illuminating his beautiful cheekbones, the wind ruffling the longer bits of hair that peek out from his beat-up ball cap and those beautiful dimples peeking out, Bob Floyd is downright breathtaking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the WSO asks, taking a sip from the bottle of soda in his hand. He grins softly as he looks over at you, reclined back on your elbows in the bed of his beloved truck. “You’ve been quiet for a while over there.”

You bite your lip, face heating up a bit as you confess, “You’re just so gorgeous, Bobby.” The tips of his ears turn pink at the praise and he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair before replacing it.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you, darlin’,” he drawls, his accent stronger than ever thanks to the week you two have spent back in his home town.

You had been a little nervous when Bob asked you to come with him on a trip back to Montana after the birth of his nephew. Meeting each others’ parents during their brief trips to San Diego was one thing, but spending two and a half weeks in his childhood home? There were so many ways that could test your relationship.

But eight days into your trip, you were getting to know a whole different side of your beautiful Bob.

“I mean it. Montana looks good on you,” you tell him, reaching out to caress his face with your hand. “I like this whole ‘country boy’ vibe you have going on.”

Bob chuckles, warm and deep, as he gently turns his cheek into your palm. Your thumb gently rubs over one of his dimples, a sign that he’s relaxed and happy. “If I had known that taking you to watch the sunset in my truck would earn me all of these compliments, I woulda done it a lot sooner,” he murmurs.

“Guess you should’ve. Maybe you could have wooed me properly.”

You’re teasing of course; Bob is a complete romantic, surprising you with flowers and picnics on the beach and candlelit dinners at home. “Was this how you impressed all the girls in high school? You’d take them for a ride in your truck?”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your knuckles before gently entwining your hands together and lowering them to his lap.

“I think you’re overestimating how many girls were interested in me back then,” Bob laughs. You roll your eyes — you’ve seen pictures of your boyfriend in high school, all gangly limbs and round glasses, and you can imagine falling for him back then too. “‘Sides, they all grew up here too. These big fields aren’t all that impressive when you see them every day.”

He leans over and presses one, two kisses to your neck, right above your collar bone. A shiver runs through your body that has nothing to do with the early evening breeze.

“That’s why I saved it for my favorite city girl,” Bob adds, his lips still pressed against your skin. You can feel the smirk on his mouth and it makes you feel a little dizzy.

Bob loved to make fun of you for being a “city girl,” joking about how you were lulled to sleep at night by the sound of sirens instead of crickets and laughing at your refusal to learn how to drive until after college. (Okay, but Bobby, you don’t need a license when you have public transport!) He secretly loved it, though. It gave him a thrill to think about how your vastly different lives converged the day you met at Payback’s engagement party.

Bob’s not sure he believes in fate, but he’s endlessly thankful for whatever forces brought you into his life.

You giggle a little as he continues to kiss and nuzzle his face against your quickly warming skin, hand ghosting up his arm to wrap around Bob’s shoulders and pull him impossibly closer. “Bobby …” you breathe, feeling his teeth gently nip at your collarbone. “Bobby, behave. We’re out in the open.”

Your handsome Navy man just smiles and proceeds to work on sucking a bruise into your neck that will make it very obvious what the two of you got up to when you return to his parents’ house.

“Bob —“ you start again, giving the hair at the nape of his neck a quick tug to try and catch his attention, but all you get in response is a deep groan pressed into your skin. With a smirk of your own, you slide your free hand onto one of Bob’s denim-clad thighs, before giving his hair another, sharper tug. The WSO freezes in place.

“Now, darlin’ …” he drawls, his voice low and rumbly in a way that shoots directly into your core. Bob lifts his head up slowly, his eyes hooded and his beautiful pink mouth shiny and puffy from exertion. “If you want me to start behavin’, you’re gonna need to stop pulling on my hair like that.”

“How come?”

Bob’s big hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes are locked on his. Your chest is heaving as you watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken, that beautiful sky blue turning to a seductive sapphire as his pupils dilate.

“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna have no choice but to take you right here,” Bob explains. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my time with you out here. Make you fall apart the way I like …”

You let out an involuntary whimper at his words, your eyes fluttering closed as a rush of heat floods through you.

“Or is that something you want, huh?” Bob teases, his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you closer.

“Please, Bobby …” Your voice is breathy, more air than sound as you press your mouth against his. Bob’s thumbs gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as you let out a soft groan. No matter how long it’s been, Bob always kisses you like he’s just gotten back from a months-long deployment and it makes your head swim with delight.

(It also happens to have been a few days since you’ve had the chance to properly make out, which does nothing to calm the desire pulsing in your veins.)

“Missed you,” you sigh in between kisses and you feel more than hear Bob’s chuckle.

“C’mere baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand under one of your thighs and tugging, manhandling you to straddle his lap with ease.

You let out a little squeak before settling down, pressing your crotch down to feel where he’s already growing hard in his worn-out jeans. Bob curses lowly and wraps those delicious arms around your waist to pull you closer, his hips pushing up into yours unconsciously as his mouth trails from yours to your neck, down, down until he’s peppering kisses across your chest and the top of your cleavage. You can feel the edges of his signature BCGs dig into your soft flesh as Bob works his mouth along the neckline of your sundress.

“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” Bob asks after running his teeth lightly along your décolletage. “Drives me crazy when you wear it, just wanna pull it up and bend you over, doesn’t matter where we are.”

“Bobby!” you gasp, your nails scratching lightly up and down his biceps. Though he was a perfect gentleman on your first few dates — he even waited for you to kiss him first, blushing deeply when you tugged his face towards yours at the end of your third date — it didn’t take long for Bob to learn how much you liked it when he voiced all of the dirty thoughts running through his head.

It still takes you by surprise sometimes, the way your mild-mannered boyfriend can get you wet with just a few filthy comments.

And fuck are you already wet, rolling your hips against Bob’s as his talented fingers slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he can have better access to your chest. “Need you, need you so bad,” you keen, arching your back to push your breasts closer to your boyfriend’s mouth. “Bobby, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling back from your chest with a luck of reluctance obvious on his beautiful face. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he adds, stilling your hips in his lap. You only realize you let out a whine because of the way he’s rubbing his big hands up and down your sides, trying to soothe you. “Just wanna get you somewhere a little more private. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

You nod almost frantically, your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hold back your moans. Letting out a deep breath, you slide off Bob’s lap and hop down out of the truck bed, your thighs squeezing together when you watch the way his biceps flex as he lifts the tailgate back into place after following.

He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, practically running around to the front of the truck and yanking the door open. Bob holds back a moment, waiting for you to climb in, but instead, you turn him by his hips and push him back into the cab so that he’s sprawled across the bench seat.

“‘M I not moving fast enough for you?” he asks with a laugh, planting one leg on the floor of the car and swinging the other up onto the creaky leather as he slides towards the driver’s side.

In response, you simply grin, before climbing in after him and pulling the door closed behind you.

But instead of laying yourself on top of Bob — which he’s clearly expecting you to do, the way his arms are hanging open to make room for you — you crouch down in the footwell and reach for his belt.

“Wait, baby, you don’t have to —“ he starts, before cutting himself off with a jolt when you cup his blue through the front of his pants.

“I want to,” you insist, fingers quickly working to open his belt and his jeans. “Want you. Want you so bad, Bobby. Next time we’re not staying at your parents’ house. I can’t go this long without touching you, it’s all I can think about.”

Bob tosses his head back with a moan, his hips lifting up as he helps you tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his hard cock. It slaps up against the bottom of his stomach, flushed and already wet at the tip, twitching slightly when you reach out to wrap your hand around the base. You wait a beat for him to lock eyes with you before you lean in and wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it to gather up the bit of precome pooling there.

“Oh, darlin’,” Bob practically growls, the deep timbre of his voice making you moan as you start to bob your head up and down. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. You’re so good to me, baby. So g-good.”

You pull off and give him a long lick from base to tip before attempting to swallow down as much as you can at once. It took a while for you to be able to deep throat Bob like this — he’s so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before, thick and long and just slightly curved in a way that makes you feel so deliciously full — but Bob was patient and understanding and now you like to show off for him whenever you can.

You pull off to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connecting your mouth to him, before leaning back in working your mouth down to his base, his public hair tickling your nose. You swallow around him and the feeling of your throat closing around his cock makes Bob jump and swear, a fist coming up to hit the roof. The quick buck of his hips makes you cough and sputter and he lifts your head off of him for a second to check in.

“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that, felt so damn good I lost my mind for a second,” he rambles, chuckling softly, his thumb rubbing at the corner of your smiling mouth. “You okay there?”

Instead of replying, you just giggle and nod, nipping at the tip of Bob’s thumb before you get back to what you were doing, sucking and licking at his cock while stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bob’s stomach flex as he pants and moans above you, words of praise falling from his lips in a dazed ramble.

“So beautiful, you’re so beautiful like this, my gorgeous girl.” A loud moan interrupts his declarations, those big hands sweeping up to hold your hair back out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down again. “Yeahhhhh, just like that baby, good girl. God, you’re so good to me, love it when I can feel myself all the way in your throat, shit.”

You pull off to breathe before swallowing him down again, fingers cupping and caressing his balls as you hold him there, tip brushing against the back of your throat, enjoying the way Bob’s thighs shake and his hands tighten in your hair.

You repeat the action a few more times, tears staring to run down your cheeks before he suddenly tugs your head up and away from his cock.

“Don’t wan’ come down your throat, darlin’, need to come inside you,” he rambles, petting the sides of you head absently, his eyes fixed on your chest as the straps of your dress slide further down and reveal the soft satin of your bra underneath. “Please, baby, please let me fuck you, gonna fuck you so full ...”

The edge of desperation in Bob’s voice makes you surge up from the floor, climbing into his lap as you kiss him, all tongue and teeth and desire.

“Yes, Bobby, yeah,” you say against his mouth, tugging at his white tee shirt until he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his broad, defined chest makes you rub yourself against him, sticky wet panties brushing against the hot ridge of his hard cock.

As you roll your hips again and again, the lace catches against your clit, making you moan loudly as Bob lifts his hips into yours.

“You’re so wet, darlin,’ I can feel it, I can feel how you soaked right through your panties,” he says, eyes closing briefly at the sensation, before they fly open and he finishes tugging the bodice of your dress down to your waist. He gives your breasts a quick squeeze, letting out a soft grunt before teasing and pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric. “Such a sweet girl, my good girl, and you get so fuckin’ wet just from sucking my cock.”

“Bobby, please, fuck me,” you moan, hips working more frantically against his, chasing your high as he whispers naughty encouragement to you.

“I will, baby, I will,” he promises, voice soothing despite his movements bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He sits up properly in the seat, grabbing you by the hips and moving your body against his. “Wanna see you come like this first, watch you fall apart in my lap, love it when you get desperate like this.”

Bob drops one hand to your lap, working it up the skirt of your dress to meet your soaked panties.

With a low curse, he slides his hand into them, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in steady circles while you throw your head back and moan at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Fuck, Bob, right t-there, I’m so close baby,” you babble, hips continuing to swivel as you grind against his hand, his cock, edging further and further to your peak, nails scraping down Bob’s torso. His murmured little “c’mon, come for me,” helps push you over with a shout, your body shaking and trembling in his arms as he works you through your orgasm.

“Juuuust like that, so gorgeous baby, so good for me,” Bob says, his thumb slowing down against your clit as you come down from your high. When your eyes flutter open and you take him in, cheeks flushed and glasses slightly fogged from all of the exertion. He barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls your panties to the side and begins sliding his cock into you.

You give a shout that turns into a high-pitched whine as you feel the head of him press inside you. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” you babble, walls still fluttering a little as you go to slide all the way down his cock, needing him inside you as quickly as possible.

“Uh-uh, darlin’, slow,” he chastises, grabbing your hips to still you about halfway down his cock. “Don’t wanna hurt you, just take your time, you’re doing so well for me.”

It feels like time slows down as the two of you work to get every inch of him inside, tiny little movements of your hips helping you to take more and more until your hips meet.

You take a moment to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side before snatching Bob’s hat and doing the same. He doesn’t even seem to register your decision to rid him of his hat, already fixated on your bare chest, moving to suck one of your peaked nipples into his mouth with a moan.

“Love these tits, baby,” he mutters against you and you card your fingers through his hair in response. It’s a little sweaty from hiding under his hat in the heat all day, but you can’t get enough of the way Bob groans and whines as you tug at the longer strands and scratch your nails against his scalp. “Gotta move, darlin’, gotta fuck you now.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, lifting your hips until just his the tip of his cock is still inside you and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he encourages, words already beginning to slur together as he gets drunk on pleasure. You repeat the motion and he smirks, before tugging one nipple between his teeth to make you keen. “You wanna show me you know how to ride? Huh? C’mon city girl, ride me.”

Bob’s voice gets a little breathy towards the end of his taunt and your moans get louder as you feel him press against that spongey spot within you on each downstroke.

For a while, the only thing you can hear is the sound of skin slapping together, punctuated by groans and growls and the occasional whine when Bob pinches or tugs at your nipples with his teeth, the tiny spark of pain making the pleasure more delicious. He’s so tuned into you that he can sense that you’re getting tired almost before you do, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting so that both of his feet are planted against the floor of his truck and he begins thrusting up into you, giving your burning thighs a break.

His hips move quickly, punching little “unhs” out of you with each thrust, tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. Your walls begin to tighten and flutter against him and Bob frees a hand to rub two fingers against your clit in a slow, steady motion that contrasts beautifully with the speed of his thrusts.

“Oh my g— fuck, Bob, feels so good. You feel so g-good, love you so much.” You’re not even aware of what you’re saying, words spilling out of your mouth mindlessly as you let Bob bring you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Need to come, Bobby, I’m so close, wanna come for you, please, please,” you beg, peppering kisses all over his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach.

Bob’s fingers speed up, his mouth dropping open to let out a low groan, his face flushed and eyes glassy.

“Yes, good girl, just like that,” he encourages, the bottom of his glasses starting to fog up as a result of his exertion. You moan loudly at the sight, tossing your head back and losing yourself in the feeling of Bob’s talented fingers, his cock, the tension inside you building, building. “Come for me, beautiful, please. Let go for me, so perfect, so good to me, can’t believe you’re mine – shit.”

Your boyfriend’s praise tips you over the edge and you feel that band inside you snap, your vision whiting out at the edges as your walls clamp down on Bob’s cock. You’re shaking and moaning in his arms, gushing around him as he murmurs and works you through it. “Love you, love you, yes, yes, love you baby,” pressed into your clammy skin as Bob can’t bring himself to lift his mouth up from your chest, shoulders, neck long enough to speak clearly.

You come down from your high with one last shudder, walls fluttering around him and making him moan against you. You lean back to take a look at his face - pink and sweaty, a smile on his puffy lips and looking more beautiful than you think you’ve ever seen him before - before cupping it between your hands and kissing him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you just sit there and kiss, could be seconds, could be minutes, but you’re too lost in each other to care.

Eventually, though, your hips start rolling again in his lap, causing Bob to let out little whimpers and moans against your mouth. He lets his teeth tug at your bottom lip before pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “God, you feel so good, honey,” he says, eyes locked on yours as you begin to ride him properly once again.

“Wanna make you feel good, Bobby,” you coo, one hand threading through his damp hair and the other caressing his jaw.

“You a-always do, so good to me, so good baby,” he rambles, breath hitching every time you squeeze around him. “Don’t know how I g-got so l-lucky, can’t believe you’re mine, dar-darlin’.”

Bob’s hips begin thrusting up jerkily to meet yours, his eyes starting to get glassy behind those big frames. Knowing he’s getting close, you gently tug on his hair, short little bursts of pain that drive him crazy and get his hips moving faster.

“Jusss like that, god, you’re taking me so well, doing so well,” he says before grabbing onto your hips and holding you in place and thrusting up into you almost frantically. “Wanna be with you all the t-time, wanna fuck you every day, every night, keep you - yeah, do that again baby, pull my hair like that - keep you full of me.”

You moan at the idea, loving the thought of Bob just taking you whenever he pleases.

“Yeah? T-that what you want? I’ll do it for you, do any-anything for you, gonna fuck a baby into you one d-day and make our own little fa - I’m so close - family,” he cuts himself off with a few more high-pitched moans, eyes slipping shut as if he’s picturing your future together.

The idea of being with Bob, having kids with him, settling down and spending your lives together, hits you like a freight train. You don’t think anything has ever sounded better to you.

“Want that, Bobby, want to be with you forever, wanna have your babies, please, Bobby,” you babble, hands running all over his hands and shoulders to pull him closer, hold him tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, anything you want darlin’, oh my -“ he comes with a shout, eyes squeezing tightly shut and fingers holding onto you so hard that you will probably have bruises on your hips later. (You hope you do, you always wear all of the marks Bob leaves on you with pride.) You feel him twitch inside you, liquid heat making you feel impossibly full. He gives one, two little half thrusts as he finishes, before loosening his grip on your skin.

Fully panting, Bob takes a moment try and catch his breath before opening his eyes slowly. The look of pure adoration on his face almost knocks the wind out of you.

“Well,” he starts with a chuckle, pressing a few chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Nothing like that ever happened to me in high school.”

You bark out a surprised laugh, giggles spilling out as you watch Bob grin and then duck his head. The sun has almost fully set by now, pinks and oranges fading into purples and blues as the two of you laugh in Bob’s truck, faces flushed and glowing in the dusk.

In a minute, Bob will clean you up and help you get dressed, gently kissing you with each item of clothing you wrangle back on.

He’ll give you a look of confusion and then surprise when he realizes that his hat is somewhere underneath the seat and he’ll run his fingers through your hair to help you tame it before settling into the driver’s seat. He’ll rest one of those big, warm palms on your thigh as he drives you both back home, looking over to smile at you at every stop sign and red light.

You’ll both giggle, cheeks warm and eyes downcast when Bob’s mom asks about your afternoon over dinner and he’ll mentally start picking out engagement rings when he watches you bounce his nephew on your knee when the family gathers in the living room afterward.

Later that night, after you’ve both shyly admitted that you were serious about the promises you made to one another in the truck, Bob will smile as he watches the moonlight illuminate your sleeping face.

But for now, you two just enjoy this perfect moment, wrapped in one another as the crickets begin chirping outside. And neither you nor Bob think you’ve ever seen the other look more beautiful.

(Are we still doing readmore sacrifices?) Either way, please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

#international bob floyd fucks month #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #my beautiful husband bob floyd #bob fucks

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littlbowbub · 2 years

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1. Grannies Cookbook & Recipes (Bulk & Individual) & Additional Objects

2. Homestead Helper Mod ~ required for other mods

3. Hunting & Foraging Mod

4. Delivery Services

5. Drinks Machine & Soda Machine Add-on

6. Old Time Tea Pot

7. Hungry Plumbobs & Fast-Food Counter

8. More Cafe Foods Override

9. Ice Cream Counter Override

10. ThriftTea Bubble Tea Counter Override

11. Hot Chocolate Maker

12. Home Barista Espresso Machine

13. Flower Crafting Station Override

14. High School Cafeteria Override

15. Toast-E-Maker

16. Handmade Prepped Ingredients ~ home chef hustle

17. Homemade Ingredients ~ my extra ingredients

18. Mixing Bowl Overrides

Other Links:

Mod Tracker - keep updated with my mods after patches

littlbowbub.carrd - Socials etc

Occult Cookbook ~ Progress Thread - discussions for an ongoing WIP (slow progress)

Recipe Update Master list - for adding 'prepped ingredients' & additional updates

F.A.Q:

Desserts section not working - please remove the chocolate egg ice cream dessert recipe as it requires the cool kitchen stuff pack to work.

Recipes missing - each recipe requires a different cooking skill level and will only be available to cook if your sim has the level required.

Last Exception (AttributeError: 'NoneType' object has no attribute 'get_model') - You have an outdated version of the cookbook please delete and download the latest version.

Recipe showing in Better Exceptions - Please see list here and re download recipe.

#littlbowbub #navigation

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afewfantasies · 6 months

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🏔️The Retreat 🏔️- Chapter III

Prologue | Chapter I | Chapter II | Misc references & details

Summary: A threat to Lorena's safety leads to Gales assessment and acknowledgement of his complicated feelings for Lorena. Lorena tries her best to make peace with her past and what she's willing to accept in her future.

Pairing: Gale Cleven x Lorena (black fem oc)

Warnings: Spiking of drinks and gender based dangers relevant for the times.

Tropes: Slow Burn, opposites attract, forbidden love

Word Count: 2K

Chapter III - In Care of Gale Cleven

Another month has passed....

“Hey boss?” Kurt asks as Gale reviews the ledgers. “I think we have trouble, some guys came in flirting with Lorena pretty hard. They look like bad news” Kurts words alert Gale.

“Who’s in there now?”

“Jeff and Andy” Kurt responds as his boss grabs a pistol. He knew bad news and a beautiful unmarried woman in the middle of nowhere would be easy pickings for some. Locking up his ledgers he heads into the Lodge. He finds Lorena behind the bar like they’d practiced just in case of emergency. All four pigs are hanging on her every word they look and smell like trouble. Gale gives Kurt a hand signal telling him to call in the guys in the case of more trouble and sits to the bar not as an owner but as a patron. It gets the attention of the patrons and Lorena who gives him a soda. Gale never looked for fights but since the war sometimes he found himself seeking them out. Men who rejected the notion of peace needed to know some horrors and he would be the one to hand out that dose of reality for them.

“You alright?” Gale asks Lorena just above a whisper.

“Yeah” she nods. “Brown hat has a knife and denim jacket has a pistol” she whispers. A shrill whistle cuts through the air.

“Come on back over here darling, leave old blondie alone” One of the four trouble makers shouts.

“She’s no dog you don’t whistle at a woman!” One of the regulars says from his table as Jeff rids it of his dishes.

“Mind your business senior” One responds and the others laugh.

“Just apologize, you don’t whistle at women” Lorena says topping them back up.

“Sorry love more whisky” the loser in denim winks. Nodding she heads into the back feeling the promise of a brawl. Rose had taught her the unethical practice of drugging certain patrons. Reaching the glass viles she pours the necessary drops into the bottle of whisky swishing the bottle around. When she emerges more familiar faces have taken their seats. She pours four fresh whiskeys and in ten minutes the trouble makers are knocked out on the pine.

Gale takes point leaving Jeff with Rose and Lorena. He and the guys rid the troublemakers of their possessions getting their identification and car keys. He loads them up onto his flatbed truck covering them with a tarp like their dead men. Kurt and Rainey hop in the two cars they arrived in. Gale is in lead driving to the other side of the mountain. They’d wake up lost and with a serious headache. When he’d purchased the lakehouse from Rose she’d been forthcoming about all the dangers about being away from civilization. The sleeping drafts had been something her mother suggested after her and her husband had been attacked. He’d been engaged then to his dream girl. It was only supposed to be a cottage then. Rose and her boys would run it but then the war came and he left and when he returned home single he couldn’t bare to frequent the places he once had with his fiancé. He couldn’t stomach the noise and bustle of the city. He needed peace, he needed quiet and a simple life. The mountains weren’t without issue but simplicity served him well. Arriving at his favourite spot to dump miscreants he pulls into a cliff. Kurt and Rainey behind him. They put the guys in the cars leaving the keys in the ignition. They leave a can of petrol for them and one bullet in the chamber of their gun. They were so far inland that they could drive in any direction for an hour before finding a way out. That’s what Gale was banking on.

In five months Lorena had come to belong to him in a sort of way. She was his responsibility, she lived in his home, under his roof and anything she needed he provided. They shared breakfasts together and he checked on her every night before settling in. Whatever she wanted she got, he’d spent the equivalent of days chopping down trees and using wood to make her custom furniture for her books and her plants and for shelving. Her’s was the only room in his home expertly decorated. So much so he could hardly recognize it. Although he grumbled often about her frilly ways he enjoyed nothing as much as her smiling and happy. Nothing he hated more than her melancholy. With every new letter came a day of tears and sulking. No matter how he tried to consider the facts he couldn’t fathom a scenario where leaving Lorena for another woman would be feasible. The way she handled patrons he could tell she would make a fine mother and wife. After what Egan had said he knew Lorena had loved her ex-husband more fiercely than most men could imagine and she was still loyal to him.

Gale found himself thinking about her on some nights. Thinking of heading into her room and holding her all night and studying her soft features in the morning light. Waking up bathed in the scent of her perfume with her in his arms and not spending the dreadful hour before she woke up downstairs waiting to hear her footsteps pad across her bedroom into the bathroom. But she never looked at him the way the other women did. She didn’t stare longingly or even coyly. She’d never let looks linger with desire and he’d never heard her call a man like him handsome, although everyone else seemed to think of him that way. He thought of what it would be like to come home to her regularly and since their trip into the city he’d been unable to solicit discreet widows for carnal pleasure.

They’d make a handsome couple he thought often but she would never be his in that way. So he put the thoughts away as quickly as they came and his charge would be her protection and preservation like anyone else under his care. If he had to dump four scoundrels in the middle of bear country in the summer he would. Without regrets or remorse because nothing would ever happen to Lorena under his watch.

Back at the lodge he heads up to Roses place and finds supper has been prepared. Lorena sits on the sofa mending one of his shirts as she hums along to the record playing. He watches her in the doorway.

“All settled?” Rose asks.

“Mhm” he nods looking back to Lorena.

“She’s fine they were talking to her filthy but she’s not shaken up” Rose explains.

“Good, I’ll need more of those sleeping drafts” Gale mumbles.

“Mail came after you left” Rose notifies him. He swallows puzzled. Looking at Lorena it’s easy to see she’s in good spirits and not in her usual funk.

“She read the letters?”

“No, one from the ex that was pretty thick and one from the sister” Rose discloses missing nothing even at her old age. Nodding Gale looks up to see Lorena is now aware of his return. She snips a thread and stands draping his shirt over her arm.

“Everything alright, no one was hurt right?”

“No” Gale affirms looking her over.

“Come here, let me see it” Rose says holding up the shirt. Gale smiles seeing the rip gone but a mangled stitch replacing the gaping hole.

“Lorena” Rose tsk’s disapprovingly.

“It’s wearable still” Gale defends with a mocking smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sweetheart” Rose tiptoes kissing Lorenas temple.

“Tomorrow” she nods following Gale back to the house. They walk side by side as he uses a torch to light the way. “Thank you” Lorena whispers.

“You don’t have to thank me”

“I do you all take great care of me, let me do as I please and don’t judge me for it” she whispers sticking close. “Only loose and abandoned women work” she says as her mother and other society ladies did.

“Well you’re neither” Gale corrects in a clipped tone.

“Next month would be my sixth wedding anniversary” Lorena confesses slightly over the sound of gravel under their feet. Gale can’t make out more than her figure in the darkness. “My sister Fefe, has spent the day with me since the war. Last year we threw this big dinner party since Reggie was home. I got a letter from both of them today. I bet Fe wants me to come home” Lorena says sounding solemn.

“Why can’t Fefe come here?” Gale asks making her smile. He was a man that didn’t do nicknames ad the silly childhood moniker sounded silly coming from a grown man.

“Felicia” Lorena corrects. “She’d tell daddy who’d come here and make a big stink about me living in the woods with a man. He’d say he didn’t pay for my education and indulge my interests in fashion and hosting to have me stay here” Lorena explains.

“I see and my colour won’t help either will it?” Gale asks.

“My folks aren’t prejudice, maybe my daddy is a little but that’s cause his grandfather was a Native American” Lorena explains.

“So they want you remarried?” Gale asks.

“They do but all the suitors remember me as this happy young beautiful person. The young woman I was before the war” she whispers in reflection.

“Lorena I think anyone would be happy to have you as their wife” Gale says frankly.

“Gale I’m spoiled” she swallows heading up the stairs to their home.

“Why’s that?” He asks lighting the home as he looks down at her.

“I’ve already been in love, I know that that’s like. I’ve had a loving marriage.” She says. “I know what’s like and I’d know the difference and it’d haunt me” she confesses leaving Gale to nod I understanding. “And you and the guys spoil me rotten, there’s nothing you all wouldn’t do for me and you want nothing in return” she smiles. “I can imagine having to bat my eyes and be sweet for some pocket money or a new dress. Or sing the praises of a man who feels he owns me because of the marriage certificate” she says having thought through her options throughly. Raking his hands through his hair Gale thinks a moment horrified by the prospect himself.

“Any son of a bitch mistreats you I want you to send a letter here about where he spends his days and nights. I’ll take care of it for you doll” he says seriously. Lorena often wondered how such a gentle man found violence so natural to him. Smiling she shakes her head.

“It’s better I stay so I don’t damn either of our souls” Lorena smiles. Gale does too reaching out for her. She walks into his arms appreciating the hug and his care of her.

“Tell your sister to meet you in the city and I’ll drive down with you and bring her up here. You can have the house”

“My room is big enough for Fe and I”

“Well if Felicia’s a respectable woman her husband may not like her sleeping in the same house as a single man” Gale concludes.

“He isn’t like that, Felicia can do as she pleases. But I’ll send for her, thank you Gale” she says heading upstairs. It went without saying Gale was beginning to arrive at the place where there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Lorena safe and comfortable. Stopping halfway up the flight of stairs Lorena turns around stopping him in his tracks.

“Really, thank you” she smiles getting only a smiling nod in response. “Take me shopping tomorrow?” She asks only to receive the same gestures. “Goodnight Gale”

“Goodnight Lorena” he says and she pauses before finishing the ascend and heading to his room. Her smile had been infectious since the first day he’d seen it. Lorena had been laughing at Jeff’s clumsiness, the fool had been half performing for her attention but as long as anything wasn’t too broken Gale let it go on appreciating the unfamiliar sounds of woman’s laughter as he sat in his corner numb to it.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading :) Let me know if you all want this to continue. The next Chapter has Lorena's older sister coming into town. She doesn't hold back and see's Gales feelings for Lorena.

#austin butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler x black reader #gale cleven x oc #gale cleven #major gale cleven #masters of the air #masterlist #black authors #austin butler x oc #austin butler fanfiction

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katzkinder · 6 months

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Servamp headcanons, ice cream edition! Because my grandma got an ice cream maker and we’re all super eager to try it out but then she broke her back (she’s fine, don’t worry)

Mahiru: plain old vanilla. Misono introduced him to vanilla BEAN ice cream though and he’s feeling a little guilty about wanting to splurge a bit for the more expensive, creamier stuff… Kuro is an enabler and his encouragement is the only reason he’s still managing to resist. Just do it Mahi!

Kuro: Cookies and Cream is his favorite, but he’s also partial to cookie dough, or crumbled chocolate mint cookies as topping. He likes both the taste and the texture

Misono: chocolate lol. He’s predictable. His absolute favorite though are those ultra decadent brownie batter type of chocolate ice creams. Yknow the ones. Chocolate pieces, brownie bits, hot fudge swirl… He gets sick off the stuff easily though, so even though he loves it, self control is everything

Lily: vanilla bean with strawberry topping and cheese cake bites! He loves fresh strawberries in his desserts, and often he and Misono will trade bites if they’re getting flavor fatigue. Also very rich but the strawberry helps cuts through the sweetness

Tetsu: a Basic Boi who loves GariGariKun the most. Prefers popsicles over dairy treats. Yeah technically this isn’t ice cream but like. It’s the taste of summer and after bath refreshments. I’m not taking that from him

Hugh: vanilla with hot fudge sauce (and/or blood). He still prefers his chocolate parfaits, or better yet for this scenario, a milkshake

Licht: yknow those ultra sweet cotton candy flavors? If it’s ice cream by itself, he loves that. But if it’s a float, it’s gotta be vanilla in melon soda. If you take him to marble slab or similar place that lets you mix in a bunch of toppings, he will make a beeline for the gummy bears. Gets disappointed every time that they turn hard and unpleasant to eat, even though he already knows the outcome

Lawless: he has two favorites. Coffee bean (distinct from just plain coffee flavor) and moose tracks. I’m not sure what that’s called in other places? Basically it’s vanilla with peanut butter cups and fudge. Only goes for this when he’s depressed, if I’m honest. Otherwise it’s too sweet.

Mikuni: haagen daz amaretto almond crunch and their hojicha latte flavor. Forever sad that the former was limited edition and doesn’t make seasonal returns. It was absolutely perfect for his and jeje’s terrible Netflix movie nights (with the occasional appearance by johannes so they could make fun of the bad science together)

Jeje: since Mikuni only buys haagen daz (spoiled pretentious shit) he’s grateful they a rich pumpkin flavor that becomes available during autumn. He also really likes horchata milkshakes for the comforting taste of cinnamon.

Iduna: Tried butter pecan once and was hooked. The crunchiness of the pecans is her favorite part. It’s her go to for when Haagen Daz Creamy Vanilla Pudding flavor isn’t in season. Back home, though, it’s got to be the rather… Unique. Salty licorice flavor. She gave some to shuuhei one time just to watch him gag. She knows what she’s doing to that poor boy.

Freya: the simple freshness of strawberry ice cream is her guilty pleasure. She been thinking of making her own with an old hand churner. It would be fun, right? And it’s not like it would be difficult to get the ingredients she needs.

Nicco: Pistachio gelato, though he also enjoys the tartness and slight bitter aftertaste of limoncello flavor. He likes taking Ildio with him whenever there’s a new flavor he wants to try but isn’t sure he’ll like. Even if he doesn’t care for it, his servamp probably will. Does that make him mean?

Ildio: No preference as of yet. He’s still figuring this whole… Tasting your food thing out

Tsubaki: as expected, he loves matcha and red bean flavors. REALLY excited some of the Hagen daz hanamochi series is becoming a permanent flavor

Sakuya: rocky road. Sweet, crunchy, and a little bitter on the back end from the chocolate. Refuses to admit it but he also enjoys the hanamochi series. He’s stubborn. Whenever he wins a free popsicle he gives the stick to Mahiru, so inevitably when they hang out, that’s what he buys if they stop at the konbini, just for the chance to maybe earn some good boy points with his best friend and crush. And he thinks he’s subtle—

Reblog with your own headcanons! I love seeing what people add to my posts :3

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cyanbugremix · 2 months

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Reductive Audio #7 Spoilers

Uhh this is just a list of my favorite facts from the reductive audio

All d(a)emons are ambidextrous, and Ivan is left-handed, but the cool part is that Ivan became ambidextrous when Vega was controlling him (idk is that cool?? It's interesting for sure)

Brachium has only ever experienced vanilla extract through the memories of the dead.

Caelum on the other hand has made a "Vanilla Extract Tumblr Cake" (one of those polls where people "bake a cake" and it has too much vanilla extract voted for, i think) and it turned out horrible!

In Mario games, Elliot was forced to play as Luigi by Aaron, because of his at home nickname being "Ell/L" and Luigi starts with an L (you get the gist. It sounds the same)(Elliot wanted to be toad tho)(Aaron would play as Mario)

Gavin technically can and has pretended to read a book, he just has never actually committed to doing so

Lasko is scared of heights even though he knows that he could catch himself if he were to fall, so he thinks the fear is annoying

Damien peut parle français (Where did Damien learn french?? At home? School? As a hobby?)

Ash was taller than David, until David hit puberty and shot up (thus the big guy nickname came to be)(Seriously tho. So many boys would shoot up in like 3 months during summer break and be wayy tall when we'd get back to school and I was always amazed that someone could grow that tall that quick)

Oof T-T Sam was close with his Grandma Adeline (Adelene?), and when she passed he went back home to Mont Blanc to say goodbye to her grave (he snuck into the cemetery at night because he was a vampire by then)

Kody was gonna originally be involved with Closeknit, but then his character was taken in a different direction (makes lots of sense. He would be a closeknit guy)

Huxley was the fastest kid in his grade because he was obsessed with Bionicles (specifically pohatu with the mask of speed) (omg i forgot about bionicles until I looked them up again. I never did anything with them but I remember them)

Milo doesn't drink alcohol because he doesn't want to find out if he can get addicted to things as easily as his dad

Avior has HEARD of Gavin but never met him before

Oldest 3 d(a)emons in order: Polaris (Dead), Vega (dead for a bit but alive again), Ursa (elation daemon)

Camelopardalis has been in therapy for 2 years to work through the the bad memories that he had to keep of the whole Vega and Ivan problem (and he hasn't wiped his therapists memories yayy!!)

Arden took out the second most shades (David is the winner in taking out the most) during the Inversion, and Christian and her defended the VIP box through the whole night, even when Christian couldn't stay in wolf form

Kelsey started the Chrissy nickname! (Arden and Asher use it the most)

Aaron, when Elliot's powers first manifested, would imagine what it was like to be magical (He wanted to be a "Warder" and do force field stuff)

BLAKE WAS GOING TO ORIGINALLY BE CALLED CARVER OMG

Zeke (Member of Closeknit) drinks "Cactus Cooler" (orange and pineapple soda)

Xavier (contra-elemental) was originally supposed to survive the inversion

Bailey's mother is beta of the Keaton pack

DJ Anxiety (Hudson) still makes mixes, he just hasn't done live DJ-ing since the Inversion

Gregory Keaton doesn't exist in the Fooliverse (his parents never met in that AU)

Anton doesn't like gore, and bcuz of that he prefers black and white horror movies (modern ones often have too much gore in them) (Such a vibe for him)

Brachium was the last serenity daemon created by Min'Ara's own hands

E'Laetum has a grudge against Vega because Vega was specifically built to be the opposite of Polaris (even tho the dude didn't have a say in his creation)

Quinn sounded like he was interested in turning Darlin' (but they never could figure out if he was serious or not)

Hush was supposed to originally be apart of one of Echo's "deals"

Porter's maker was a dude named Felix, who got executed because Felix seemed to really like creating progeny (as well as being horrible to them)

Alexis resents Porter for becoming William's favorite when he wants someone to go out and do whatever, because Alexis does more "collateral damage" than Porter

(And there's cool Vampire lore from The Summit vampires from 26:18-27:36)

#MORE LORE WOOP WOOP #reductive audio #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted shaw pack #redacted vampires #redacted inversion

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carolharusims · 3 months

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Grannies Cookbook | Tradução Português | Mods The Sims 4

Hey Simmers! ♥ Esse é um masterpost com a tradução de todos os mods de comida da modder Littlbowbub! Seu mod mais famoso é o Grannies Cookbook, ou aqui para nós: o Livro de Receitas da Vovó! Eu traduzi não só o livro, mas CADA UMA das receitas (são centenas, sério hahaha) e dos "add-ons" disponíveis, que são versões alternativa de objetos (como um livro aberto exposto ou uma lata de receitas ao invés do livro original de receitas) ou mods adicionais para deixar essa parte de comidas do jogo ainda melhor! Se você ainda não utiliza esse mod, comece aqui: PÁGINA PRINCIPAL DOS MODS. As minhas traduções seguem a mesma numeração que ela colocou nessa lista! E não, eu não traduzi o 3 e o 13 hahaha Você precisa baixar o mod do Livro de Receitas e depois baixar também cada um das receitas individualmente! Você pode escolher só as que quiser ter no jogo, ou usar a opção de download em massa na página da autora. Todos os mods aqui foram feitos pela Littlbowbub ◖LIVRO DE RECEITAS PRINCIPAL◗ • 1 - Grannies Cookbook - Livro de Receitas (obrigatório) • 1 - Download do Livro e das Receitas (obrigatório) • Add-on: Recipe Tin - Latinha de Receitas (opcional) • Tradução - Latinha de Receitas • Add-on: Cookbook Stand - Livro em Suporte (opcional) • Tradução - Livro em Suporte ◖MODS SECUNDÁRIOS OPCIONAIS◗ • 2 - Homestead Helper | Tradução • • 4 - Delivery Services | Tradução • • 5 - Drinks & Soda Machine | Tradução • • 6 - Old Time Tea Pot | Tradução • • 7 - Hungry Plumbobs & Fast-Food Counter | Tradução • • 8 - More Cafe Foods Override | Tradução Food + Drink • • 9 - Ice Cream Counter Override | Tradução • • 10 - ThriftTea Bubble Tea Counter Override | Tradução • • 11 - Hot Chocolate Maker | Tradução • • 12 - Home Barista Espresso Machine | Tradução • • 14 - High School Cafeteria Override | Tradução • • 15 - Toast-E-Maker | Tradução • • 16 - Handmade Prepped Ingredients | Tradução • • 17 - Homemade Ingredients | Tradução • ------------ Últimas atualizações: 14/09/2024 - Versão de 01-09-2024 ------------ COMO INSTALAR MODS E TRADUÇÕES? 1 - Certifique-se de que as configurações do seu jogo estejam ativadas para aceitar modificações. Com o jogo aberto, siga o passo a passo abaixo: 1.1 - Clique em “Menu de Opções” (os três pontinhos no canto direito superior da tela); 1.2 - Clique em “Opções de Jogo” e depois em “Outro”; 1.3 - Marque as caixas “Habilitar conteúdo personalizado e modificações” e “Modificações de Script Permitidas”; 1.4 - Clique no botão “Aplicar Alterações”. 1.5 - Feche o jogo.

2 - Clique nos links de download acima para baixar tanto o arquivo do Mod quanto o arquivo da Tradução; 3 - Coloque ambos os arquivos (JUNTOS!) na pasta MODS do jogo, geralmente localizada em: \Documentos\Electronic Arts\The Sims 4\Mods\ - Caso queira organizar melhor os arquivos, você pode colocar em apenas UMA subpasta dentro da mods; 4 - Inicie novamente o jogo e curta seus mods! Com carinho, Carol Haru Sims Sul sul! ♥

#carol haru sims #sims 4 mods #the sims 4 #tradução mods the sims 4 #carol haru sims traduz #sims 4 cc #sims 4 pt br #the sims brasil #recipes sims 4

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unrealisticlea · 2 years

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can’t believe we almost didn’t get Madney and Jee Yun.

can you imagine Eddie and Maddie being a couple like the writers wanted. she would be great with Chris and Eddie would try his best but they would be sooo bad together (and their ship name would be meddie that’s enough for me to hate this)

she loves real movies where people overcome real obstacles together and he’s into soap operas (“to practice his spanish” sure buddy). She buys Hildy because she loves coffee but Eddie unplugs her every night because he’s a technophobe so every morning she has to spend 15 minutes setting up the coffee maker. Eddie says “well if you need 15 minutes it’s not that good is it” and she bites his head off. They fight about this at least once every 2-3 days. Buck takes his sister’s side and Eddie pushes him in a lake when they’re wrapping up a call.

she loves her brother very dearly but she HATES living with him and when she moves in with Eddie…well. Buck’s not really a guest. she wakes up and Buck is there to pick up Eddie for work. She gets home and Buck is there to help Chris with his soda+vinegar volcano project . He keeps organizing her kitchen like bobby taught him because he loves cooking for them and that’s very sweet but she can never find anything.

Eddie and Maddie have very different senses of humor. So she makes a joke like “I’m considering moving into Buck’s loft because I wanna see less of him” and Eddie doesn’t laugh. then he makes one of his dry jokes like “well you can’t because then he’d have to sleep with me” and she doesn’t laugh. no one is having fun here.

anyway, what I’m trying to say is everyone should worship Jennifer Love Hewitt for saying “no, she should be with Chimney instead”. and they fit perfectly together and their daughter is the cutest and happiest child and their scenes make me cry (I think about “mama leave?” “no mama stays” everyday) and Boston is one of the best episodes in the show and their home should be featured on Architectural Digest and doesn’t need more flowers fuck you Margaret

#one of the best ideas the show had and it didn’t come from the writing room #madney #maddie buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #meddie I guess

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ereardon · 2 years

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Part One: The Night Before

Summary: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, pining, weddings, cursing

WC: 2.9K

Series masterlist here; part two here

There was a knock at the door.

You sighed and stood up from where you had been sitting at the desk writing your note to Jeremy for tomorrow.

Maybe it was Anna with the steamer for your veil. Or your dad asking about the schedule for the forty-ninth time. Or your mother with an emergency that definitely wouldn’t warrant her reaction: the florist only has medium pink not light pink roses or the wedding planner accidentally wrote cream china instead of bone-colored china and now the three-hundred person reception hall would be wrong.

Except you didn’t care. You didn’t care about any of the details.

Not anymore.

The knocking continued.

“One second!” you huffed, scurrying barefoot across the bridal suite. It was enormous and you simply flung the door open without looking through the peephole first. “Rooster?”

Bradley gave you a small grin. He was still wearing his jacket and tie from the rehearsal dinner, but the tie was now loosened and hanging around his muscular neck. “Hey Ace. Can I come in?”

You nodded and stepped to the side of the door. Bradley stepped inside carefully, walking into the living room of the suite.

“Shit, nice room,” he murmured.

You shrugged. “Dad said to do whatever I wanted. And how many times do you get married? One night in a hotel suite isn’t going to break the bank.”

Rooster nodded. “Yeah.”

You crossed the room, brushing a hand over his back as you grazed past him toward the wet bar. “Want a drink?”

“Sure. What do you have?”

“Wine, gin, bourbon, vodka, whiskey, soda, champagne. Whatever you want, babe.”

“Bourbon on the rocks.”

“You got it.” You grabbed a rocks glass and dropped in a few large cubes from the built-in ice maker before splashing a generous pour of Blanton’s over it. Despite the fact that you had promised yourself you were done drinking after the rehearsal dinner, you poured yourself a glass of champagne and sunk down on the couch next to Bradley, holding out his glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Bradley whispered, tipping the glass back and pouring half of it down his throat. You sipped carefully at your champagne flute, eyes wide.

“What’s up, Roo?” you asked softly, hand reaching out on the back of the white silk couch, touching him. He curled his fingertips around yours.

“Do you remember the night we met?” he asked.

You laughed. “Of course I do. You spilled an entire tray of tequila shots on my shoes.”

It had been a hot June Saturday. You were out with a few girlfriends. You had just finished your junior year at Georgetown and were back home in Annapolis.

You were standing at the bar, ordering another round, when the oaf next to you turned too quickly, taking down a waitress and her entire platter of tequila shots. They rained down on your feet. Thankfully you were wearing sneakers, so no glass penetrated your skin, but you smelled like the inside of a Mexican brothel.

“Dude?” you exclaimed, looking up at him.

Bradley Bradshaw looked back with wide eyes, cheeks flushed with pink embarrassment. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed and before you realized it, you were swept into his arms and he was carrying you bride-style into the unisex bathroom in the back.

“Hey man?” you asked, tapping his shoulder. “Want to put me down?”

“Sorry, yeah,” he said, setting you down gently. You tugged at your denim shorts and gave him a funny look.

“Why’d you do that?”

“In case there was glass,” he said softly. “Didn’t want you to step on it and hurt yourself.”

You peeled off your white Keds, which were soaked and now a faint yellow color, and lifted one leg to dunk your foot into the gross sink. “You just go around pouring tequila on girls and then scooping them up and hauling them into dark bathrooms?”

“I, uh,” Bradley stuttered and you laughed. He caught your gaze in the mirror and laughed with you. “I’m Bradley.”

“Y/N,” you said. “Now are you gonna help me wash my shoes or what?”

He picked up the Keds from the floor and took them to the other sink, rinsing them under cold water and pressing soap against the cloth sides. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see that waitress standing there.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Not the first time I’ve had a drink spilled on me. I’ve been to my share of college parties.”

He grinned. “Where do you go?”

“Georgetown,” you replied and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be a senior in the fall.”

“Georgetown,” he repeated. “Impressive.”

“Not really.” You switched feet, lathering the cheap pink soap over the toes of your left foot. “How about you, tequila boy? What’s your story?”

“Naval Academy,” he said and you peered at him. It made sense, you guessed. He was tall, lean, and muscular. He had deft hands, you could tell just from the way he was cleaning your shoes. And he had a quick reaction to scooping you up and hauling you into the bathroom, despite your protests.

“Just at the bar trying to sleep with townies?” you asked.

Bradley practically choked on his own spit. He caught your cackle in the mirror and turned to you with a grin. “God, you’re something, aren’t you?”

“I’m drunk is what I am,” you replied.

He held the shoes under the automatic hand dryer and you watched in silence as Bradley rotated them evenly. After a few minutes, he held them out to you. “Not perfect, but it’ll do.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, reaching out and grabbing them. You leaned against the cool white porcelain sink to slide each shoe on, bending over to tie the laces. When you straightened up, Bradley was staring at you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning back against the sink. “So, sailor,” you said softly and he grinned. “Buy me a drink to make up for the truckload of tequila you dumped on me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bradley placed his hand on your low back and steered you out back into the bar. Someone had cleaned up the tequila catastrophe and you stepped right back to where you had been standing before the incident, Bradley’s fingers still warm on your back. They slid off as he went to grab his wallet to open a tab and you looked up at him. He was attractive in an entirely unexpected way. There were small scars that peppered the left side of his face and you wanted to reach out and trail your fingers over them.

He handed you a glass — a vodka soda this time — and you smiled at him. Bradley smiled back.

And then a hand appeared on his shoulder and you looked up. A guy with the whitest teeth and perfect Dr. McDreamy hair stared back at you. “Bradshaw, who’s your friend?”

He was gorgeous. You felt your blood freeze for a moment.

And then Bradley’s voice pulled you out of your coma.

“Y/N, this is Jeremy. He’s my roommate at the academy.”

Jeremy smiled and you felt your heart speed up. “Nice to meet you.”

You left that night on Jeremy’s arm. He brought you back to his room at the academy; you were staying for the summer with your parents and bringing a boy home that you had met two hours earlier would have sent up red flags to your father.

After, you got dressed and left Jeremy asleep on his bed. You cracked the door open carefully, closing it behind you with a soft thud.

And then you almost tripped on a leg jutting out into the hallway.

“Fuck!” You stumbled but righted yourself at the last moment. Bradley gazed up at you with tired eyes. “Bradley?”

He nodded and stood up, wiping at his eyes. His Hawaiian shirt was rumpled and it looked like he had been asleep against the wall.

“Were you sleeping?”

“Just closed my eyes for a second,” he whispered.

You looked down at your watch and groaned. “Shit.” It was almost four in the morning. Your dad would definitely be looking for you. You looked back at him. “I’m sorry.”

Bradley shrugged. “It’s fine. Happens.”

You looked back at the door, forlorn. So it happened a lot. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You had slept with Jeremy after three rounds of drinks. Why would you think that wasn’t a regular occurrence for him? You nodded. “I see.”

“Y/N,” Bradley reached out and grabbed your hand. You looked up at him. “That’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “Jeremy, he’s a good guy. You should know that.”

You smiled. “I needed to hear that. Thanks.”

Bradley smiled back at you. “Well, I should probably get some rest.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I should go.”

“Do you need a ride or something?”

“I’ll just get an Uber.”

“I can wait with you.”

“You’d do that?”

Bradley squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even realized he had never dropped it. “Of course.”

The two of you stood in silence outside the dorm building. You were cold in the early morning fog. You shivered and Bradley shrugged out of his ugly Hawaiian button up and handed it to you.

“Here.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You slid it on. It smelled like suntan lotion and beer and it was warm from where it had hugged Bradley’s boxy form.

A Honda rolled up slowly and you checked your phone, reading out the license plate.

“This is me,” you confirmed. Bradley nodded. You stepped to the curb and pulled open the door. “Hey, Bradley?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe I’ll see you around.”

He smiled. “I hope so.”

“Why is that what you’re thinking of?” you asked softly, taking another sip of champagne.

Bradley leaned back against the white couch, sliding his arm down to his side. You combed your fingers through his hair at his temple and he shut his eyes. “How’d we get here, Ace?”

“Get where, honey?” you asked.

Bradley sat up and looked at you. “Here, Y/N. With you marrying my best friend tomorrow, in the ballroom downstairs.”

You reeled back. There was a fire in Bradley’s eyes. You had seen that look before. “Brad,” you whispered. “What’s going on?”

“Why are you marrying him, Y/N?” he asked. “Why him?”

Your mouth popped open. Suddenly, it felt like the entire suite was devoid of air. You wanted to gasp but there was nothing to suck into your lungs. All that existed in that moment was Bradley.

“Roo? You’re not gonna believe it.”

Bradley took a deep breath. “What is it, Ace?”

“Jeremy asked me to marry him!”

He looked at your face. How fucking estatic you were. It had been seven years since the night the three of you met. Well, since the night you and Bradley had met, Jeremy had shown up out of the blue. Swooping in. Stealing the girl. Doing what he had always done.

But this time had been different. You were different.

You should have been his.

“Bradley?”

He looked up into your eyes. “What did you say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I said yes, Brad. Of course I said yes.”

And then you launched yourself into his arms, his hands wrapped around your waist, your fingers pressed tightly around his neck.

You whispered into his ear. “I’m getting married, Bradley. How crazy is that?”

He pulled you in closer. “It’s insane,” he murmured against your neck. “I can’t believe it.”

“What did you say?” you asked, aghast.

Bradley’s eyes were trained on yours. There was a hardness in his features that you recognized from all the times the two of you had been in difficult spots before. The first time he and Jeremy deployed together and you held both of them on the tarmac, tears in your eyes, your voice hoarse from spending the entire night before crying. It was the same look he had when Carole died and you had stood in a black wrap dress under an umbrella in the rain next to Bradley as they lowered her casket into the ground. It was the way he looked at you when you said the doctor found a mass on your ovary, only for them to remove it and confirm it was benign a few weeks later. It was the way he looked the night you had fought when he accused you of throwing your life away to follow him and Jeremy around the country from base to base.

You had never been able to let him go. It was always the three of you. It had always been the three of you.

Even when it was supposed to just be you and Jeremy. Bradley had always been there, in the shadows, never out of reach. It’s how you wanted him. It’s how you needed him.

“Brad?”

“Don’t marry him,” Bradley said. “Please.”

You had loved Bradley Bradshaw for years. He was the best friend you had ever had. He fit so seamlessly into your life that you could barely remember a moment when he wasn't in it.

He was the person holding your hair when you drank too much on your twenty-fifth birthday in Las Vegas. Bradley was there when you ran your first marathon. He was there when you and Jeremy bought the house. He was there the day you brought home Buddy, your labrador rescue. Somehow every single memory over the last decade has Bradley on the edges of it.

He was also Jeremy’s best friend.

“Most of you know me. I’m Bradley Bradshaw, best friend of the groom and best man.” Bradley paused while there were cheers from the tables of other Naval aviators. You grinned up at him from where you sat next to him. “But you might not know that I’m also a best friend of the bride’s.” He gazed down at you. “Y/N isn’t just the best thing that happened to Jeremy. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too. So it’s the greatest honor of my life to be here with you all as they commit themselves to each other. I’ve been the third wheel for most of their firsts.” There was laughter in the audience but Bradley didn’t notice. His eyes were still on yours. You held his gaze, unblinking. “Tomorrow is just another first for these two. Here’s to a lifetime together. I love you both.”

Finally he lifted his gaze from yours and raised his glass.

“A toast to Jeremy and Y/N. Thank God I spilled tequila all over her shoes a decade ago or we wouldn’t be here now.”

More cheering. Bradley gulped down his entire flute of champagne and sat down. You leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Roo,” you whispered into his ear.

His hand came out and brushed against the white silk of your dress where it sat on your hip. “I love you too, baby.”

Bradley’s soft brown eyes bore into yours. You suddenly felt exposed in your thin white lace nightgown that you had been wearing when you answered the door. You stood up and crossed the room, shrugging on the matching robe, cinching it tightly around your waist. So tight it hurt.

Everything hurt.

“What are you saying?” you whispered. “I’m getting married in less than twenty-four hours, Bradley. Why are you doing this?”

Bradley stood up. “Because I can’t watch you get up there and walk down the aisle to him.”

“Why?” you wailed. “Why the fuck not, Bradley?”

“Because it should be me!” he shouted and you froze. Bradley froze. The air in the room froze.

“What did you say?” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so thin it could break. The way Bradley was breaking but you just couldn’t see it. Maybe it had always been like this and you had never seen it.

Bradley strode across the room until the two of you were only inches apart, his hands on your neck, tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since that very first night at the bar. I kick myself every night for not making you mine before Jeremy could.”

“Bradley.”

He dropped his hands and took a step back. You felt tears start to well behind your eyes. “I wanted to tell you, Y/N. I started to. A hundred times. A thousand. But then I saw how happy you were with him and I stopped myself. I care more about you being happy than anything else in the world.”

He paused. You wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, the heavy diamond on your left hand grazing your cheek.

A reminder.

Bradley took a breath. “I’ll walk away, Ace. I’ll go back to my room and pretend I never came here. And tomorrow I’ll stand up there next to Jeremy and watch you walk down the aisle like the most beautiful bride on the planet and I’ll try to forget that I’ve loved you for a decade and nobody else can compare to you. I’ll do all of that, if you can answer one question for me.”

You raised your eyes to his.

“Does he make you as happy as I would make you?”

A/N: This is a two-part series!

Please remember to turn on notifications on my library page @ereardonlibrary as I will likely be moving to that system instead of a tag list like below. Thanks!!

Tag list: @double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston @angelbabyangee @secretsicanthideanymorey

@taytaylala12ylala12 @mizzzpinkink @wkndwlffwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @rosewritesitout @atarmychick007 @khaylin27

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#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun x reader #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 11 months

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tagged by : @aceghosts (thank you so much!!)

tagging: @wrathfulrook @anonymousmalkavian @fourlittleseedlings @harmonyowl @mccarthycormac @mxanigel @madparadoxum @jillvalentinesday @confidentandgood @trench-rot @nightbloodbix @roofgeese @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @clicheantagonist @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @statichvm @neverthesameneveranother @sukoshimikan @josephslittledeputy @marivenah @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @v0idbuggy @direwombat @florbelles @poetikat @fangsandroses @shallow-gravy @cassietrn @strangefable @stacispratt

writing tag list here to be added/removed

Back to working on American Beasts, and I am in the thick of Kit meeting Carter and Quinn for the first time. (warnings for mentions of death/ animal death, and Kit's general mental health):

The sprawling wilderness of evergreen trees carried on around Kit in all directions with no sign of stopping. Clinging to the trunks of the trees, she moved forward at a careful crawl, trying to keep her energy from depleting further. Plodding forward, her boots melted into the mossy carpet below her feet, comforting like a mattress she could topple onto. She could close her weary eyes and rest. Just a short rest…

Pain stabbed through her and her knees began to buckle. She was a crushed soda can, the contents of her pouring out of the wound in her chest. Barking out dry, ragged coughs into the frigid air, clawing at her chest, desperate to rip the bullet from herself like an animal with stitches, chewing despite the harm it would do. Blood caught under her nails. She remembered hearing about other vets taking to meth when they came home as a way to deal with the pain and the nightmares, only to be burdened with imaginary bugs crawling under their skin, picking and scratching away at themselves to get the insects out. She understood that feeling now. Understood that fear. She was burning alive. God, it felt like her skin was on fire as the bullet lodged itself deeper inside, searching out the warm, dark places of her – if she wasn’t slowly dying from it, she might have laughed – her heart was certainly a fitting place as the lead seeped throughout her flesh, poisoning her.

Her thoughts began to drift, survival still very much on the tip of her tongue as she started to replay Jacob’s speeches in her head. Humans were born with an innate sense of survival. Fight or flight. Her whole life she had lived with these apparent laws in her head, the same laws her father had instilled in her. Survival was something she knew intimately about. It defined her, a characteristic of who she was, something brought to the surface when most others became soft and learned to ignore what had been programmed into them over millions of years of evolution. The fear of snakes, spiders and sharks bred into the DNA. She was an anomaly. Most people didn’t go running into fire, they didn’t search out the danger the way she did. She faced it headlong, determined to make it bow to her, it was like she couldn’t feel it. Her brain muted the fear, quieting the sense that would have made her stop if she were a reasonable person.

Yet more things left broken inside her.

Crumpling to her knees, the blood rushing from her head, Kit could feel the world spinning around her, all one thousand miles per hour of it. Her breaths leaked out in gasps, hitching in her throat before her lungs would deflate again. Vision tunneling…seeing in black and white…pinpricks of light scattered before her eyes, a universe coming into being as everything went dark. Her whole chest cavity about to implode. All she had left to run on was instinct, her senses failing as they shut down around her.

This was the end.

But like a zombie, her body carried on, searching out the path back home. It had no compass, no map, it wandered aimlessly. Survival hinged on her giving in, succumbing, relying on the hands of her maker to guide her. Like Moses through the desert she wandered, her weary mind unable to detect even East from West using what little of the sun was left. Her feet would carry her, one step in front of the other. Marching. Forever marching. As if it were fated for her to never settle.

The spongy layer of top soil and black earth she was sure she would fall into and be buried by, left to rot for all time, gave way to gravel. The distinct crunch pulled her to reality like a tether, tying her to the here and the now. She stared down at her boot, the toe scuffed and worn, caked with mud and beaded with rain water. Kit had walked for miles on end, into the silence that consumed the mountains and created its own plane of existence. One where she had been free to become a beast, to bleed out the sins of others, punishing them before the new world came crashing down upon the county. She looked up and the gravel hadn’t appeared without sense, it had purpose. Dotted with wilted flowers, frozen and thawed so many times they had become brown and rotten, the petals blackened with mold, a pathway led forward. There was a break in the trees…

…there was a house.

–

A shadow passed the window. A creeping thing, it’s visage unseen, but the shiver still crept down Carter’s spine. He’d been warned by his parents about the people that lived on that little island and about that old hospital at the top of the mountain. He’d read Jack and the Beanstalk and he knew about the evil giant at the top of it. He had read about the big, bad wolf and how he ate little children who went off the path. Fairy tales had become reality these last few months, especially once their father, the hunter, never came back home. He was the one meant to cut open the wolf’s stomach and pull the children out in the end. Not end up eaten as well. A cautionary tale gone wrong.

The howling of the wolves and the cries of cougars rang out as the night began to fall and the temperature dropped even further. He and Quinn were wrapped in quilts trying to stay warm together on their parents’ bed, their fingers chilled to the point of being pink and sore, their breath escaping them in a fog inside their little wooden home. He wasn’t sure how much longer they could last. Carter knew about death, he’d grown up with it from the family farm they once had, to hunting with his father. He’d even had a pet hamster, Mr. Chippy, who didn’t last more than a year. He knew that sometimes things had to die so others could live, he knew that sometimes the heart just gave out. He wondered if it hurt when it happened the way everything seemed to now. His stomach, his body, the cramps and the cold. He wondered whether they’d ever even be found. The cat they had when he was barely older than Quinn wasn’t until they smelled it weeks later, having crawled under the house to die. Is that what they would smell like too, or would it be so cold they’d be covered in frost like the elk steaks in the freezer?

He pulled Quinn a little closer to him and listened to the wind whisper through the house. There were times it would wake him in the night, after he’d dream of his mother, imagining it was her voice. Believing for half an instant that his wishes had come true and she’d come back to them. To save them. But ever since that birthday where he’d wished for a bike and ended up alone in the woods with his sister, he’d learned not to put much faith into wishes.

There was a knock outside, someone had crossed the trip wire his father had set up so long ago now. It wasn’t a shadow, it was a nightmare. A prowler. The monster in the dark had come to get them. Finally.

“Quinn, you gotta listen to me, okay?” She looked up at him, her lower lip trembling as she pulled the covers tighter around herself, shaking uncontrollably. “You gotta get under the bed, and you have to be real quiet. Can you do that?”

“Whatsamatter?”

“Just listen to me.” He slipped off the bed and pulled back the ruffle sheet that draped over the frame, hiding the floor underneath it. “Come on Quinny, you gotta do as I say.”

“No.”

They didn’t have time for this. He looked at her with narrowed eyes, determined to keep her safe. His jaw went stiff and he leaned down towards her, lowering his voice. “The boogeyman is coming.”

“What?” Her eyes widened, her irises bleeding into the inky depths of her pupils.

“He’s gonna get ya. Do it!”

She crawled off the bed, dragging the blanket with her. Sliding under the bed frame, clutching Cookie Monster as she pulled the quilt over her head to hide.

“Whatever you hear, whatever happens, don’t come out. Promise me.”

“Promise,” she whimpered, holding back tears through choked breaths.

“Good.” He dropped the ruffle sheet and pulled open his father’s sock drawer, grabbing the old revolver shoved at the back. It was heavy, heavier than he had expected. He’d spent many an afternoon just staring at it. He knew well enough not to touch it, even when the urge to reared its head. His dad had told him never to play with guns, they weren’t toys, they were weapons. Holding one meant you aimed to kill.

Pulling the sheet back once more, Carter crawled in under the bed beside Quinn. Laying there, he clasped his hand over her mouth to help keep her quiet. There could be no mistakes, no do overs. If this was the men with crosses, if they were found, it would be the end.

#wip wednesday #american beasts #chapter 49 #oc: kit cross #oc: carter seed #oc: quinn seed #(eventually they'll be seeds)#far cry 5

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montensoda · 2 years

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onlygenxhere · 7 months

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For the @jatpfebfanfest my secret giftee is @daintyduck99

So it was a no brainer that I needed to write a Reggie-centric story. It’s a little softer than I’d originally thought it would be and fairly cannon-ish. Hope you like it!

A day in the life of a ghost bassist

The alarm on the phone Ray gave him just last week went off under Reggie’s pillow and he pulled it out to silence it quickly before it could wake the others up.

He rolled over on his back and rubbed his eyes waking up quickly. The need to sleep was new since Julie’s magical hug made them all solid to her and visible to others if she was touching them.

Ray had been just as cool as he’d hoped he’d be when she’d told him about them and welcomed them into their home, or at least the studio, without too much hesitation.

He looked to his left and was only a little surprised to not see Luke there. He was pretty sure he knew where he’d eventually crashed.

Luke was probably the only one that wasn’t a fan of needing to sleep again. He hadn’t been much of a fan of sleeping when he was alive so it wasn’t surprising.

Reggie got up, got dressed and put the sofa bed back together so they could use it as a sofa this afternoon.

Poofing into the kitchen he started the coffee like he did every morning now. He could have some if he wanted but he mostly just liked the smell. Once that was going, he moved to the other side of the kitchen and started to empty the dishwasher having noticed Ray must have run it before he went to bed last night.

He was just finishing up when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Good morning Reggie,” Ray said through a yawn as he came in the room. “How are you this morning?”

“Good morning Ray.” He sang as Ray went to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup.

He watched as Ray added a little sugar and a lot of cream before taking a long sip. “I could get used to this.” He chuckled and turned to smile in his general direction.

“Happy to help,” Reggie sang.

And he was, happy, so happy to help. He didn’t have any money, none of them did but he’d found ways of helping out that everyone seemed to really appreciate.

Especially Ray.

Reggie thought they owed him just as much as they owed Julie for letting them live here for free. Not to mention how he looked out for them all like they were part of the family.

He watched as Ray pulled a notepad off a pile of mail and slid it over toward where Reggie was near the dishwasher along with a pen. “Would you mind working on a grocery list while I start pancakes?”

He quickly wrote ‘no problem’ on the page he’d been doing math with Carlos on last night before flipping to a clean sheet and writing grocery list at the top.

Reggie moved around the room checking what they needed and adding to the list as Ray got out the pancake mix and started working on the batter.

“Are you boys eating today?” Ray asked as he poured the first pancake on the griddle.

They ate now.

Drinking juice and soda had come first but they started experimenting with food shortly after that. But much like sleep they didn’t need to eat as much as they did when they were alive.

Ray had ordered pizza for dinner last night and they had all had several slices, so he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry this morning and he doubted Alex was either.

But Luke might be hungry.

Out of the three of them, well the four of them counting Willie sometimes, Luke was sleeping and eating more than the rest of them.

He looked up at the ceiling guessing that’s where Luke had probably fallen asleep. He fell asleep in Julie’s room writing music more often than not the past couple of weeks.

He wrote quickly on a blank page. ‘Make a few more for Luke just in case’ and showed it to Ray. He chuckled and looked up at the ceiling shaking his head. Apparently, he knew where Luke most likely was too.

That was another cool thing about Ray. He trusted them as much as he trusted Julie as long as they kept being honest with him. Reggie would do anything to keep that trust. It was something he’d never had with an adult before.

“You’re probably right.” He turned to add a little more pancake mix to the bowl. “If you’re done with the list, you should probably go wake up Julie and Carlos for school… and Luke if he’s eating.”

“On it…” He sang and poofed upstairs to just outside Julie’s door and knocked softly.

He counted to thirty and knocked again. This time he heard some rustling before a very sleepy Julie opened the door.

“Morning Reggie,” She rasped before turning to go flop back on her bed face down.

“Your dad is making pancakes.” Reggie giggled at her dramatics and followed her inside noticing Luke still sleeping over in the pillow pile by the window. His guitar was lying across his chest like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of playing.

He lay back on the bed beside her. “What time did you fall asleep?”

“About one I think.” She turned her head to look at him through a curtain of hair.

Reggie brushed her curls back from her face and she smiled at him before glancing over at the still sleeping Luke. “Why is he so hard to say no to?”

“Don’t ask me.” He laughed. “I’ve never been able to tell him no either.”

They both turned to look at a drooling Luke fondly.

“Do you think he’s ok?” Julie whispered. Reggie turned back to see her looking at him worriedly. “He’s sleeping and eating so much more than you and Alex and it’s worrying me.”

“I think it’s you.” He tucked another wayward curl behind her ear. “He spends more time with you than we do.”

Julie hummed and scooted over to lay her head on his shoulder. ”Maybe you should hang out with us more so we can test out your theory. Maybe, it’s a good thing.”

“I think it’s a good thing Julie.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to his chest. “I hope so any way and I’d love to spend more time with you.”

“Me too,” A raspy voice said from the floor.

“Go back to sleep,” Julie and Reggie said in unison.

“Can’t,” Luke said laying his guitar on the floor, stretching and groaning loudly. “I smell pancakes.”

Both he and Julie took deep breaths too and he could definitely smell the cooking pancakes now. Ray probably had a nice stack ready.

He sighed and started to get up. “Better go get Carlos.”

Julie whined at the loss of her pillow as he pulled away, making him laugh. There was nothing more he’d like to do than cuddle with Julie a little while longer but she had school and he would not be the reason she was late.

“You gotta get ready anyway.” He laughed. “You know if you don’t get moving Carlos is going to beat you to the bathroom.”

“Ugh, stop with your logic.” She groaned. “I’m going.”

Reggie straightened up Julie’s bed for her as she gathered her things and headed toward the bathroom.

He picked a blanket up off the end of the bed and turned to Luke who was still sitting there watching him. “You need to go help Ray so Julie can have her room to get dressed.”

Luke grinned at him. “Yes boss.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Julie’s the boss.”

“Maybe I need two bosses.” Luke smirked.

Reggie threw the blanket over his head so Luke couldn’t see the blush he could feel creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

He wasn’t going to think too much about that right now he had things to do.

He heard Luke poof out without another word, hopefully to go help Ray, as he headed down the hall to Carlos’ room and knocked.

“Is that you Reggie?”

He gave another knock for ‘Yes’ just before Carlos opened the door with his phone pointed at him already talking.

“Say hello to my ghost friend all you ghost toasters out there!”

Reggie chuckled as Carlos paned up and down his blanket clad body which he was sure looked like it was floating in midair.

“Give us a wave ghost boy.”

Reggie held the blanket in his hand and waved but kept quiet.

He and Carlos had a deal, that’s why he’d showed up at his door in the blanket. He’d do ghost things on camera for Carlos’ me-tube channel but only if Carlos got ready for school on time and kept up his grades.

“That’s it for today ghost toasters.” Carlos grinned at Reggie from behind the phone and he did a little shimmy for the camera, “Until next time!”

Carlos put the phone down and laughed. “That was awesome!”

“Your dad made pancakes.” Reggie sang after he pulled the blanket off his head.

“I can smell them!” Carlos took a deep breath and then ran through him and down the stairs.

“Hey!” Reggie yelled and shivered. He really wasn’t a fan of people walking through him. It was cool at first but now it just felt weird.

He could feel how hungry Carlos was and it was making him feel a little hungry too. Even if there weren’t any pancakes left there was always Pop tarts or cereal if he still felt hungry when he was done with his last official task of the morning.

Reggie poofed back into the studio and called quietly up to the loft. “Alex, are you awake? Julie and Carlos are leaving for school soon.”

He could have poofed directly in the loft but he’d interrupted Alex and Willie once and once had been enough for all of them.

Speaking of Willie, it was his head and not Alex’s that popped over the railing. “He’s still sleeping Reg.”

“Did you sleep any?” Reggie asked quietly.

Willie beamed down at him. “I did!” He whispered loudly, “A couple hours at least.

Reggie nodded. Willie had been hanging out with them more and more in the last couple of weeks and whatever was going on with him and the guys seemed to be affecting him too.

He really hoped it was a good thing.

“You should come to practice this afternoon.” Reggie grinned up at him.

He nodded. “I will.” Then he gestured back toward where Alex must be still sleeping and Reggie waved him away. He was so happy for Alex and they all really liked Willie.

Reggie checked Alex, and Willie, off his mental to do list and poofed back into the kitchen to see how things were going there.

Carlos must have inhaled his breakfast because there was a dirty plate in the sink and no Carlos at the table.

Julie and Luke were both still eating and talking quietly while Ray was cooking up the last of the batter.

“Reggie’s back dad,” Julie said smiling over at him.

“Oh, good,” Ray smiled in his general direction. “There’re a few extra pancakes if you want some.”

His stomach growled. Guess he was hungry.

“Thank you.” He sang as he fixed himself a plate and sat down at the table with Luke and Julie. Both of them were pretty much done but were still discussing practice this afternoon and what gigs they had coming up this weekend. Luke was taking notes in his ever present notebook.

Reggie ate quietly as they talked, just soaking in the them of it all. Both Julie and Luke had said they wanted him around more and he was going to take them up on it even though a lot of the time it felt like he was intruding. They obviously had more than friendly feelings for each other but as far as he knew they hadn’t acted on them. Sometimes it felt like they were waiting for something…

Ray interrupted the quiet conversation as he ate his own breakfast leaning on the island to remind Julie she needed to finish up and get ready to go in the next ten minutes. Then he put his plate in the sink and hurried up the stairs to get ready to go himself.

“Hey why don’t you go with Jules today Reg,” Luke said getting up and taking his and Julie’s plates to the sink.

He looked at Julie, who nodded as she got up to pack her school bag.

“Yeah, I’ll stay and clean up for a change.” Luke winked at him. “Ray already likes you more than me.”

“That sounds good to me too.” Julie grabbed her lunch from the fridge and gave Luke a pat on the shoulder as she passed. “Reg can help me study for my history test today.”

“Sure!” Reggie bounced up to go add his plate to the sink. He loved helping Julie study. It was the same stuff he’d learned when he was in high school. There were a lot of new things to learn after twenty-five years but what they taught in tenth grade history hadn’t seemed to change much.

“Yeah,” Luke laughed. “I’d rather do the dishes.”

“I know you would.” Julie giggled as Ray came back down the stairs with Carlos following close behind.

“Who would what?” Carlos asked, heading to the fridge to grab his lunch.

“Luke would rather do the dishes than help me study for my history test.”

“Me too,” Carlos groaned. “I hate history.”

“Honestly it wasn’t my favorite subject in school either,” Ray said as he poured himself a travel mug of coffee and Carlos finished packing his bag. “But it’s still something you should know.”

“Tell Carlos if he knows enough stuff, he could be on Jeopardy one day,” Reggie said giving Julie a wink.

Julie laughed and relayed Reggie’s comment.

“Now that’s a good reason to study.” Carlos grinned before dashing out the door. “Shotgun!”

“Whatever works,” Ray shook his head and laughed. “Thanks Reggie.”

“Bye Luke,” Julie said as she picked up her bag.

Reggie gently took it out of her hands and put it over his own shoulder. “I got it.”

“Bye Jules, have a good day.” Luke waved a soapy hand at them. “Hurry back Reg I wanna show you and Alex what Julie and I came up with last night.”

“I will,” Reggie grinned back at him as they headed out the door, “Can’t wait to hear it.” Luke seemed to always have new music or lyrics to show them nearly every morning and Reggie didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing about it.

He hurried to the van and slid in beside Julie shutting the door behind him.

They got right to work going over Julie history notes as Ray and Carlos chatted in the front seat about Carlos’ baseball game coming up this weekend. Reggie was halfway listening to them as he quizzed Julie.

Ray was such a good dad offering to take Carlos to the park after school and pitch to him so he could practice hitting.

Reggie couldn’t remember his dad ever offering to do well… anything for him… ever.

Oh, yeah, he did offer to give him a reason to cry if he got upset but he was pretty sure that didn’t count.

“You ok Reg?” Julie laid her hand on his arm.

“Sure,” he grinned.

“It’s just you asked me that question already.”

“Oh,” he looked down at the notebook in his hands. “Sorry, sorry, I got it…”

“Hey,” she squeezed his arm. “You know you can talk to me about anything right?”

He bit his lip and nodded glancing at the back of Ray’s head to see if he’d heard Julie but he was pulling into the drop off lane to let Carlos out, so he was probably distracted.

She leaned closer and whispered. “You’re wishing you could talk to my dad more aren’t you?”

He nodded and cut his eyes back to her feeling a little guilty. Julie was great, the guys were great and he loved them all but sometimes he just wished…

“You could write him a letter?” She shrugged. “I know it’s not the same as a conversation but it would be private and knowing my dad he’d definitely write you back.”

Ray pulled to a stop in front of the middle school and they all wished Carlos a good day as he practically fell out of the van to go catch up with his friends. It gave Reggie a moment to think about Julie’s idea.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say to Ray so maybe writing it out would help him figure out why he wanted to talk to him so much anyway.

“That’s a good idea,” he said quietly as Ray pulled back out onto the street and headed for the high school next door.

Julie grinned at him before digging around in her bag and pulling out a notebook. She pulled out a few pages and then handed it to him. “Here, this will get you started till I can get some more.” She chuckled. “I needed to get you and Alex notebooks to write music in anyway.” She bumped her shoulder against his. “Luke and I aren’t the only writers in the band.”

“Thank you Julie.” He felt himself blush. She was so amazing. He loved her as much as he loved Luke and Alex… some days maybe even a little bit more than that, like right now.

She grinned at him before pulling out a folder to put the ripped-out pages in. Reorganizing her book bag quickly as Ray pulled into the drop off lane at the high school.

“Ready for your test mija?” Ray looked at them, well Julie since he couldn’t see Reggie, in the rearview mirror.

She nodded and laughed. “With a tutor like Reggie I’m sure I’ll ace it.” She bumped his shoulder again and gave him a wink as her dad came to a stop in front of the high school.

“See you both later,” she said as she got out of the van. “Love you!”

Reggie felt a funny feeling in his chest as he watched Julie walk away. Kinda like the jolts that had almost killed them but not quite as murdery.

“You still here Reggie?” Ray asked as he pulled back into traffic.

He poofed into the passenger seat and knocked on the dash alerting Ray to his new location.

“I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate all your help.” Ray glanced over in his general direction and smiled. “I know I joked this morning that I could get used to all this help but… it wasn’t really a joke.”

It was quiet for a moment so he gave a little knock on the dash to let Ray know he was still listening.

“Thanks.” He laughed. “It’s been hard with Rose gone and I thought…” he glanced toward him again. “I thought adding you all to the family would be hard.” He shook his head, “That it would be more than I could handle but…” He shook his head again. “Each one of you boys have been a blessing to this family, especially you Reggie.”

He wanted to say thank you but he couldn’t clear his throat enough to sing the words he was so choked up at what Ray had said. It meant so much that Ray appreciated his help.

He reached in the backseat and grabbed the notebook Julie had left him and a pen that was tucked between the seats.

He scribbled a large THANK YOU on the first blank page he got to and held it up for Ray to see while he was stopped at a light.

“You are very welcome, Reggie.” Ray chuckled as he reached for the radio switching it over to another station. “This is the channel Luke and I always listen to on the way back home.” Ray glanced toward him again as the light turned green. “He was very offended to know this is considered an oldies station.”

The end of Better Man by Pearl Jam reverberated through the vans speakers and Reggie grinned. It was so hard to believe this song was considered old now. It had come out less than a year before they died. They had all loved Pearl Jam and Green Day and Nirvana and so many other bands that hadn’t made it to the twenty-first century.

He watched as Ray tapped his fingers on the steering wheel keeping time to the beat.

It was even weirder to think if he’d lived he’d be way closer to Ray’s age than Julie’s.

Better man ended and the piano cords of another familiar song started to ring through the van.

“Come on Reggie,” Ray laughed and turned the radio up. “Rose always used to say Journey would be disappointed if we didn’t sing along.”

He stared at Ray as he started to sing.

Just a small time girl Living in a lonely world

He grinned and immediately joined in, knowing all the words by heart.

She took the midnight train going anywhere…

Ray wasn’t the best singer but he wasn’t terrible and the louder he sang the better he was.

Strangers, waiting Up and down the boulevard Their shadows searchin’ in the night

Reggie sang along with him, harmonizing when he could. Because that was always fun to figure out.

Some will win, some will lose Some are born to sing the blues

He remembered singing this song with his mom when he was a kid. Before she stopped singing, before she only yelled.

Streetlight, people Living just to find emotion Hiding somewhere in the night

Ray was grinning wider than he thought he’d ever seen him. Singing loud and off key, glancing at him every once in a while as they headed back to the house hitting green lights the whole way and Reggie felt this wave of happiness fill him up. When that famous chorus finally hit, he really let go, singing loud and proud and just so glad to be right here, right now, in the world.

Don’t stop believing Hold on to the feeling Streetlights, people oooohhhhhh!

Ray pulled back in the driveway just as the song finished and turned the car off. He was looking at him like he could actually see him.

Then he watched as Ray reached across the center console and laid his hand on his arm.

It was warm and solid and not fazing through him… Reggie gasped, “Ray!?”

Ray was smiling so wide his cheeks must have hurt. “Guess we just needed to believe.”

Reggie laughed as the tears started to run down his face and Ray pulled him into a tight hug.

He never could have imagined when he woke up this morning and went through his usual routine of helping out it would end with him finally getting to hug Ray like he’d wanted to for so long now.

Maybe Julie wasn’t the only Molina with magic and even more miracles were waiting for them if they just believed.

#jatp #jatpfebfanfest #reggie peters #julie and the phantoms

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