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#They’ve been out of school for the summer for a few weeks now
puppetmaster13u · 3 months
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Prompt 212
“Did we just pull an Isekai?” 
“I mean, does it count if it’s practically just Ghostwriter’s usual shit, just more chaotic?” 
“Sam, this is like a game, look, we even have inventory overlays!” 
“Yeah but Tuck, I died so therefor I pulled an isekai, right?” 
“Shit, why does that make sense?” 
“Boys, perhaps actually look into your overlay there? Perhaps look at the map as well?” 
“... oh my Ancients, guys, we’re not the players, we’re going to be the bosses of this game.”
. . . 
“This is going to be so much fun guys.” 
The JL Jr team would really like it to be known that they are in fact done with Klarions shenanigans. This is literally the first day school is out for the summer for them! Who even showed him DnD and anime anyway?!
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sunlightmurdock · 7 months
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Like This Forever | 0.1 | J. Seresin
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masterlist | next chapter
You’re thinking of the past, right as the future is about to change forever.
Warnings: accidental pregnancy, childhood friends to lovers, country singer!Jake, smut, pining, blissful ignorance, other warnings to follow. wc: 3k (18+ minors do not interact)
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A U G U S T 1 9 7 4 / F E B R U A R Y 1 9 9 1
Driftwood — small town southwestern Texas, situated in Lockheart County. Springs, stony hills, and steep canyons. It’s good land, occupying a tiny patch of earth in the middle of the Edwards Plateu. That’s what they all say: good land, good soil. Large acreages of wheat for miles around, grown annually for harvest and winter through spring livestock grazing. The remaining two-thirds of the region is rangeland devoted to cattle ranching. Ranches in this region often seem older than the landscape itself. Lockheart County’s livestock industry is nationally appreciated, it was, even back then. Ranches here are huge, they’ve been there for generations. The town of Driftwood, itself, sits in a valley. It holds on to the people who settle there just like it holds onto the weight of that thick, summer heat all through the day. So hot that even the trees bend and furl like they’re seeking shade too.
Back then, Driftwood was even smaller than it is now. Post Office, Church, two schools, a fleet of locally owned stores on Main Street and a few other buildings for the fathers who weren’t ranchers or ranch hands to work.
On that day in early August, most of Driftwood’s thousand person population were nestled amongst the pews of St. Augustine’s Church, just outside of town. It’s a mile and a half from Main Street, and a mile and a half from the furthest fence on the Seresin Ranch. Their house is a sprawling thing that Bill’s grandfather had built — they haven’t got that kind of money now, and they didn’t on that morning in August. They’ve got three boys, who were squirming around the front pew, melting into the aged wood below them in their smart white button ups. They’ve got another boy too, standing behind Pastor James, holding a processional candle.
Jake’s their youngest. He was nine back then. Small for his age, especially when you stood him next to his brothers and their broad shoulders and long legs. His hair was beyond blond, lightened from the sun. His cheeks dusted with brown freckles and his eyes always narrowed into a type of John Wayne kind of squint. Jake loved John Wayne back then. He loved the cowboys on his bed sheets, and the fact he could see the cattle from his bedroom window. All he wanted back then was a pistol on his hip and a one-way ticket to El Dorado.
Mary-Lynn Seresin grew up in Driftwood, just like her husband had. She had known Bill since she was a little girl, and she had always known that she would marry him one day. Her nails were polished pink that day, sitting pretty atop the procession card as she fans herself with it. Two pews behind, you could still see a droplet of sweat bead from her neat blonde hairline and trail into the collar of her blue polka-dotted Sunday dress.
On that particular Sunday, the fans had packed up and stopped working. So, all six hundred of you who could make it out to St. Augustine’s we’re trapped in there — not just with Pastor James’ storytelling, but with the thick heat pressing down on the entire valley feeling like it had all been shut in this one room with the rest of you.
At the front, Jake Seresin’s cheeks were red, his hair was beading with sweat and his scarecrow, twig-like arms were trembling around the cross. He struggled with its weight and you had watched his green eyes flash out towards the crowd, briefly landing on his mother. Mary-Lynn gave him a proud nod. Bill was staring at the stagnant ceiling fans above their heads. You, were staring right at Jake.
Eight years old yourself, just eight weeks younger than Jake is, you have known that little grass-stain your entire life. In fact, Mary-Lynn and your mother found out that they were expecting just days apart. They had been in the same high school grade as girls, had married men who were good friends, and back then your mother had worked in the town’s hair salon five days a week. They grew very close through their pregnancies. Your mother was the first one to send flowers when Mary-Lynn went into labour a month and a half early.
Jake’s John-Wayne-Squint deepened through the heavy air, watching you like you were both about to draw pistols and settle this like men — right in the middle of Pastor James’ final verse. Your pigtails and your white Sunday dress weren’t fooling him. His robes and the heavy cross in his hand weren’t fooling you. Clearly following his brother’s gaze, Daniel Seresin turns and peers at you over his shoulder. He’s the closest in age to Jake, but he’s still five years older. Thirteen then and too grown up for childish squabbles like those, he just turned back to the front and shook his head.
The first three of the Seresin boys were all born within three consecutive years. Matthew, Noah and Daniel. They’re each tall like their mother, blonde like her too, and have inherited their father’s linebacker shoulders. Noah was fourteen and about to be a freshman in high school. After he fixed the chain on your bike at the beginning of summer, you were full-blown head-over-heels in love with him back then. You thought you were anyway.
Jake, however, had been in your class since Kindergarten and you had been forced to share your toys with him for even longer than that.
His arms trembled before you and your mouth had twitched. Neither one of you was listening to the service. It was almost over. Just a few more minutes until Pastor James wrapped up and the people of Driftwood and poured out of this sauna and out into the dry, morning sun.
Quickly, you shot a look at your mother sitting at your side. She was listening intently, staring right ahead with her neatly steamed clothes and her hair-sprayed hair. You’ll always remember the heavy smell of her rose-scented perfume. Every time you inhale it, you’re sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her fix her face in her vanity. Then, you looked to your father on the other side of you. Exactly the same. Pleased, you turn your attention back to the youngest Seresin boy.
Scrunching your nose, you had sat forwards just slightly and stuck your tongue out at him. Quite the diss back then. Jake’s green eyes had widened, sweat beading down his back under his white shirt and his service robes.
Driftwood is a safe place. It’s a fantastic town to raise children. The schools aren’t overcrowded and cars don’t speed through the centre of town. Country roads are a different story. But no one bats an eyelid, especially not back then, when their children are out of sight.
Mary-Lynn was busily detailing the events of her dinner party that coming Saturday to a group of women that are invited. She’s quite the hostess still. Your mother stood amongst them. Neither one of them were concerned about where their children were in the slightest. Until, that is, the sounds of muffled screaming filled their ears. The mothers of Driftwood rush to the commotion in their kitten heels and pretty dresses. Your mother was the first around the corner. She would recognise the sound of her baby’s screaming anywhere. But you weren’t the one in trouble. As usual, you had been causing it.
Your white dress grass-stained and muddy, dirt under your fingernails and covering your formerly white, frilled socks. You were kneeling. You haven’t yet noticed the crowd of women rushing in your direction. You’ve got Mary-Lynn Seresin’s youngest son pressed into the dirt, kneeling on his back and twisting his arm uncomfortably behind him.
“Say Uncle!” You demanded.
“You’re so dead! Get off!” Jake struggled under you, screaming with all the force that his growing lungs would allow. His voice must have been audible across the entire valley with how he was hollering. Freckled cheek pressed into the dirt, his white shirt was destroyed and he was in the middle of ruining his shoes with how he was scrambling for purchase in the dried dirt.
Quickly, your mother had grabbed you under your arms and hauled you off of the boy, spinning you to face her.
“What do you think you’re doing young lady?”
“He started it! — He said my dress was ugly!”
“It is ugly, you look like a girl!” Jake huffed from behind you as he had stumbled onto his feet and taken a look down at his church clothes. Slowly, he had lifted his gaze to look at his mother. Sullen and worried looking, he began to pout. It wasn’t working. Mary-Lynn had raised three boys by then, she knew when they were trying to play innocent.
The thing about growing up so close together, is that approaching double digits was a confusing time. It was around that age that your mother began to put her foot down when it came to all of those tom-boy activities. Girls might roughhouse and come home with holes in their jeans and mud on their faces, but young ladies didn’t. The dress was her idea.
Jake’s comment had been passing, just a whisper as his family had headed into church ahead of yours, but he was right — you did look like a girl. Back then, that wasn’t a compliment coming from him. So, you had cornered him outside and pummeled him into the dirt. Fair is fair.
“Mary-Lynn, I am so sorry about her — send me the dry-cleaning bill. I’m sorry, we should go.” Your mother had sighed in a hurry, frowning down at your ruined clothes, then looking towards Jake’s. You’ll always remember the smile on Mary-Lynn’s face after. Not pity, because she knew you were in a lot of trouble for this. Just fondness. She had gently patted your mother’s forearm and shaken her head.
“Let’s finish our chat. They’re already filthy. Let them play.”
Looking up at her, you hadn’t understood why she was siding with you back then. You had just almost broken her son’s arm for sport. As you grew, Mary-Lynn Seresin was always on your side. In her kitten heels and dresses, she remembered being a dirt-covered little girl once too. No one was telling her son that it was time yet, to be a man. There’s no harm in letting you be young a little longer.
Your mother had looked uncertain, but people in Driftwood always looked to Mary-Lynn for advice. She had somehow managed to keep four boys in line perfectly, her parenting expertise was studied by those around her. Finally, she had given you a brief nod.
You remember spinning on the delicate almost-heel of your church shoes, rounding on Jake, ready to brawl. You have no clue where the stick came from, but he was armed when you had turned around — but Jake always fought fair. He tossed you a stick of your own and took aim. Green eyes narrowed, he was trying to look down his freckled nose at you, but you were taller then.
“She’s gonna marry that boy someday.” Mary-Lynn Seresin had huffed with a wistful smile, watching the mud-caked children tear off through the field once again. This time, with sticks in hands and violent intent plastered across their dirty faces.
You’re not eight anymore. Jake’s not nine. This time of the year, you both happen to be twenty-six. You aren’t trying to kill him with a stick anymore either. You’re sitting at your favourite bar in Driftwood — there are four now — watching your best friend up on stage. He’s always confident. He has been since he hit that growth spurt when he was twelve. Since then, Jake has been unstoppable. But on stage is when he really shines.
The Dark Star feels like an old bar. It’s packed every Friday night. It smells like malt and smoke and Jake’s been playing here every Saturday since he was seventeen. This is the last time that it will ever be like this, and you don’t even know it yet. Jake’s in the middle of an original. People around here know him, they know his music. They might not get all the words right, but he always gets people singing.
Jake isn’t small for his age now. He grew into his nose, and he inherited those big shoulders, his skin’s tanned from his days out at the ranch. He’s strong and funny and kind. Sometimes it catches you off guard, when you turn your head and find a man in place of the little boy you once knew.
You’re in a booth, talking numbers. It turns out that you had inherited your mother’s knack for business strategy, and Jake’s way with words had rubbed off on you long ago.
You don’t look like the little girl Jake had once known either. If he was concerned about you looking like a girl before, then you can only imagine how dismayed he must be when he looks at you now. Breasts and everything.
“It’s more than potential, Stu — you saw how crazy people were for him when he was opening for The Ashford Band.” You tell him, fingers curled around a brown glass bottle. This is already settled, the deal is already done. You knew from the second that he walked in that you had Stu Adler suckered.
This is a deal that you’ve been mulling over for a couple of months now. Getting Jake on his first headline tour. His debut album came out last week and it’s doing well, but the record label is tiny and the publicity deal is even smaller. Jake’s making pennies compared to other people in his genre, but you’re about to change all of that.
“Six months is a long time on the road. It’s a different lifestyle,” Stu’s dishwater grey eyes flicker briefly up from the plunging neckline of your top to meet your gaze. He’s an older man, with a once successful career in Los Angeles. Now, he spends his time scrounging small towns for talent. He’s just a stepping stone in your plans for Jake. “You’re sure he can handle it?”
Stretching your legs out, you scoff incredulously at the accusation as Jake’s last song dwindles behind you. The beer bottle is cool against your lips. Stu swallows, watching your lips purse around the rim to drink. You know he’d die for the chance to get his wrinkly, old dick in your mouth — it’s why Jake’s about to get the best deal of his life.
“Jake? — Of course.”
“Can you?” Stu asks. The light on you for once makes you cringe. Even so, your poker face doesn’t falter. Calmly staring across the table at him, a small smile on your face. “Y’know, he’s going to need a manager that I can rely on. I.e. — one that he won’t dump, sweetheart.”
This only makes your smile grow. “Jake is like a brother to me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
It’s that lie that secures the deal. Six months, a hundred and sixty dates across the US. Mostly small venues, but it’s his first headline tour — and it’s all because of you. Because of that one little white lie. Letting Stu think that he’s got a chance with you. Letting him think that you’ve never fucked Jake.
You have. Twice, already by this point. Once, after senior prom. Your date was an asshole and his was cruel. You’d parked his truck out in the west pasture of the Seresin ranch and got a little too drunk under the stars, and wound up with your legs hiked up over his shoulders. The second time was Thanksgiving two years ago. Your family joined his. All of his brothers have fiancés or wives now. Sharing Jake’s bed in his childhood home that night, neither one of you was drunk. You were just lonely, and maybe bored.
Tonight, there are a couple of different factors at play. Sure, by the time that you and Jake collapse down onto that red, velvet couch in the Dark Star’s ‘dressing room’, you’ve had plenty to drink. You’re not quite as lonely as you were that thanksgiving, though.
You turn your head and he’s grinning at the ceiling, chest heaving from the energetic final song. His arms stretch along the backs of the couch, his eyes closed for a moment. You watch him silently.
“You’re incredible.” Jake’s half-cut on an unhealthy mix of tequila and vodka, but smiling, eyes still shut, chin still pointed towards the sky. He gives his head a small shake. “A hundred and sixty dates.”
A smile plasters itself across your lips. As drunk as you are, it’s nice to be complimented for your hard work. “Yeah, we’ll see if you still think I’m so incredible when you’re living off of burgers and beer and still have eighty shows to go.”
The smell of cigarettes lives within the fibre of this room. Part of the furniture, nestled amongst the cracks in the red painted walls. There’s the couch that you’re sitting on, and an illuminated vanity against the far wall, and then a coat stand. It’s not much of a dressing room, but it’s fine.
You just wish it would stop spinning.
“I mean it.” His fingers rest atop your denim clad thigh, patting platonically. You hear him sigh from beside you. He squeezes at the supple skin under his hand. “Thank you.”
“Jake… since when do you have manners?” You ask him. Both of you are sitting with your eyes shut on this old, probably dirty, velvet couch. It’s five in the morning. The two of you might have gone a little overboard with celebrating. Wayne Mayhew, the owner of the Dark Star might have threatened to kick you both out of his bar if you didn’t finally get off of his damn stage ten minutes ago.
But there’s a high buzzing between the two of you that feels electric. Wordlessly, you know Jake feels it too. That this is the last night. Here, in this shitty hometown bar. Everything is about to change. After this tour, nothing will ever be the same again — for either of you.
Jake’s thumb trails back and forth in just one small pattern, reminding you that it’s there on your thigh.
It’s been on your mind all day, for no reason at all. That Sunday in August in 1974. Your ruined church dress and the fat bruise on Jake’s cheek the next day when you had seen him at the market. The start of it all.
Those late night drives and all the evenings you studied together. Jake’s football games and his band practices — back when he had thought he wanted to be in a band. Him drying your tears and making you laugh. Growing up together, talking for hours and hours about all of the possibilities. This was everything Jake had ever wanted, and he’s thanking you.
Your eyelids weigh double what they normally do — heavy as you blink open your eyes and turn your head. This time, he’s looking across at you. The tips of his fingers brush the inseam of your blue, low-rise jeans. His face is calm, he isn’t saying anything and he’s far from doing anything either.
Scrunching your nose, you poke your tongue out at him. Across the couch, Jake lifts his brows. The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s got stubble now. Stubble, and chest hair and an Adam’s apple. But that look, that glint in his eye that’s just daring you to try him has always been the same.
Jake’s fingers twitch, pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Dim lighting, fifteen year old red paint on each of the four walls, and that perpetual cigarette smell — it’s hardly a romantic fantasy. And this is far from a good idea.
But it’s Jake. Confident, loud Jake who gets shy when he’s around someone he really likes. Funny, smart-mouthed Jake who under it all is a great listener. Goofy, habitual Jake who has the nighttime routines of a fifty year old housewife.
Strong-willed, handsome, Jake, your best friend — who’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.
@fia-thefirst @daggerspare-standingby @dempy @v0id-chaos @moonlight-addisyn @grxcisxhy-wp @shakespeareanwannabe @coconut152 @330bpm-whiplash @takemetooneverlanddd @princess76179 @loveofvernonslife @averyhotchner @trickphotography2 @sushiwriterhere @the-romanian-is-bae @atarmychick007 @talktomegooseman @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @roostersforevergirl @buckysdollforlife @abaker74 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @whatislovevavy @lonelywriter10 @s-u-t @topguncortez @callsign-joyride @rosedurin @86laura11 @theenorthstar @mygyn @growup-thatbeautiful @percysaidnever @katiedid-3 @its-the-pilot
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lukeywritesstuff · 4 months
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jack being in love with quinn’s best friend and maybe he finally gets the girl
Brothers Best Friend
Jack Hughes x Reader, Quinn Hughes x Platonic!Reader
Description: Mr. Jack Rowden is in love with his older brothers life long best friend.
Note: Jacks pov because sometimes I just like writing male pov. Also if I miss any ndtp boys ignore it there’s too many for me to remember them all 😍😍😍.
Warnings: fluff, angst, cursing, brotherly banter and fights, underage drinking, no Covid off scene sex.
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Ever since we were kids Quinn has had this best friend, Y/N, ever since they met in like 2011 they’ve been best friends. They met when our babysitter brought Quinn, Luke and I to a park and since then the girls spent every day at our house after school, and since about 2014, I’ve been borderline in love with her. Her hair, her eyes, her smile, her body, her style, everything. Even things that have changed over the years due to growth and experimentation with fashion. I love it all. And yes I know. She doesn’t do it for me or any other men. But it still makes me happy to see her so confident and happy.
:-:-:-:
Fast forward to 2020, Quinn and I just bought our lake house, and us, Luke, Trevor, Cole, Matt, Alex, and Y/N have been here for a week. Since the season for us just ended we’ve just been relaxing and resting before we get partying and having fun.
The first weeks of summer consisted of me hanging out with the ndtp guys of my year, Luke with some of his friends and Quinn with Y/N, Brady and Josh. Then when we all got more comfortable within the living situations we started by bringing in alcohol and starting smaller parties with Luke only being 17 sometimes we’ll send him to our parents for a weekend because yeah I’m underage too but partying at 19 is better than partying at 17. At least I’m legal in SOME countries nearby and a legal adult too so I’m responsible for myself.
The first few parties were quite uneventful, until we decided to actually incorporate the lake and have a ‘lake party’ instead of a ‘pool party’ so when everyone showed up in swimsuits, it turned into a horny haven. This wasn’t the first time I saw Y/N in a bikini, but I guess with the alcohol in my system I had the courage to stare more and actually talk to her and get her to ‘dance’ with me.
The music was loud and sexual, her ass was against my crotch as we danced (grinded) on each other. The party was in full swing and everything just felt amazing. Until the next morning… I woke up to my arms around a naked y/n, and a massive hangover between my ears. My head pounded and my ears were ringing, but there was a gorgeous girl in my arms so I can’t complain.
:-:-:-:
Mid August, when all the partying is done, and we relax for a few weeks before going back to our respective cities where we play hockey and/or go to school. I’m sat on a devils beach chair with y/n on my lap, Luke’s on a Michigan one, Quinn’s on a Canucks one, Cole’s on a USA one and Trevor I guess bought a Ducks one for some reason and he’s on that.
:-:-:-:-:
Ever since that summer, the summer of 2020, THEE summer of 2020, i haven’t been happier. I have my dream girl, my dream job, any parents, siblings and friends are all healthy and happy with where they are in life and my life is honestly perfect right now and as I said, I can’t be happier!
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lavendertom · 5 months
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The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 6
Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5
wc: 3.2k
warnings: none! basically pure fluff (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)
summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad ever happens at the pizzeria.
A/N: this is it 🥹 the ending mike and y/n deserve! everything in italics are flashbacks. i cried tears of joy writing this, i hope you all enjoy this well deserved fluff and fun 🫶 happy reading! btw… u might wanna listen to “yellow” by coldplay towards the end ;)
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It probably wasn’t the ideal first date, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Technically, you and Mike had been dating for about 2 months now, but he wanted to continue working on himself and focusing on work before deciding to officially take you on a date anywhere. He wanted to save up enough money to do something fun and be able to bring Abby with you guys. It wouldn’t be the same without her there and you couldn’t agree any more.
“Abs what’re you most excited for?” Mike asked, looking at her through the rear view mirror. You sat next to him, holding his hand as you looked out of the window.
“Everything!” she squealed with excitement.
“You can’t decide on one thing you are most excited for?” you asked laughing.
This wasn’t just a big deal for you, but Abby as well. She always wanted to visit an amusement park. The semester had ended a few weeks ago for you and it was Abby’s last day of school just a few days earlier, so what better way to start the summer. After your big conversation with Mike, the siblings also worked on their relationship with each other. It was not easy by all means, but they were closer than ever before. Mike felt it was fair that he did this for Abby after all they’ve been through. He knew how much she’d wanted this and he found a way to make it happen. Anything for his little sister.
“Maybe the big rollercoasters. Those look fun.” Abby said grinning.
“You aren’t nervous at all? What if you’re not tall enough?” Mike asked her.
“Y/n told me I was tall enough!”
Mike playfully hit your arm.
“Okay to be fair I told her I think she’s tall enough. Have you been finishing your dinners Abs?” you asked chuckling.
“Duh, I had to be tall enough to ride the big rides.”
You looked over at Mike, smiling, knowing he was the one who came up with the idea to get Abby to finish her meals.
“I don’t want to eat!” you heard Abby shout from her room as you finished up making some grilled cheese. It was something you heard often from her voice, so it wasn’t surprising. You were used to making a meal and letting it sit on a plate all evening to get cold until just before bed when she’d suddenly be hungry.
You put it on a plate, the plastic wrap already in your hands as you assumed she wouldn’t be eating it now. Suddenly the little girl was right in front of you snatching the plate from your hands.
“I thought I heard you say you didn’t want to eat now?” you questioned her as she sat down quickly.
“I told her that if she doesn’t eat, she can’t ride the adult rides at the amusement park.” a voice said from the other room.
“Is that so?” you stepped out of the kitchen to investigate further. You found Mike sitting in his usual spot on the recliner in the living room.
“They stay tiny forever!” he said once more for good measure, you noticed Abby began eating faster.
“What are you up to now Michael?” you asked as you stood behind him, your hand finding it’s way into his messy dark curls.
“Wow legal name and everything, am I that suspicious?” he said looking up at you.
His brown eyes were no longer filled with that hint of sadness and exhaustion you always noticed. They always seemed a little brighter since you started dating. It was something you noticed immediately.
“You’re not very good at this you know.” you had to hold in a laugh to not make him feel too bad.
“I got the tickets.” he said whispering, trying not to show how excited he was about this.
“Did you really?” now you had to try and hold in your excitement too, you didn’t want to spoil the surprise with Abby in the room right next to you.
“Yup, they’re for the end of May. So a little end of school gift for both of you.” you could tell how happy and proud he was for finally saving enough money to treat both you and Abby. He had been waiting for so long to finally say he had done it.
“Mike she’s going to be so happy.” you placed a kiss on the top of his head.
“I know.” he looked over at her, still scarfing down her food. “Thought I could use that little trick to get her to eat dinner tonight. I promise I won’t use it too often.”
“I don’t buy that for a second Mike.”
“I still have time to return your ticket you know-“
He was interrupted by your lips on his as you leaned over the back of the seat to reach him. It was short but long enough for him to get the point. Once you pulled away, you sat with your chin resting on the back of the seat, just staring at Mike still playing with his hair.
“Can I have more food Y/n?” Abby shouted from the table.
“Sure Abs.” you replied, still staring at your boyfriend, which still felt crazy to think let alone say out loud.
“Stop kissing my brother Y/n, it’s gross.”
“Abs you’re the reason this exists, besides I’m not even kissing him. Not anymore.” you got up, lightly ruffling Mikes hair, saying that last part quietly so Abby wouldn’t hear.
The car ride to the amusement park was long, but it felt like it went by in a breeze with all of the random conversations the three of you had.
Once you got into the park and found your way around, you realized Abby wasn’t messing around. She immediately found the biggest rollercoaster possible.
“You sure you’re brave enough Abs?” Mike asked her. He was clearly getting nervous about it.
“Of course I am Mike!” Abby was the happiest kid in the world, not an ounce of fear in her.
You and Mike followed behind her, your hands laced together.
“Don’t be so nervous Mike, she’s gonna love it trust me.” you said, attempting to reassure him.
“I know.” he sighed. “But what if she hates it?”
“Abby’s one of the most adventurous and daring kids I’ve ever met. You’re never gonna be able to get her to leave here tonight.” you smiled, squeezing his hand. “Are you sure you aren’t scared?”
“Yeah right… I could never.” he sarcastically rolled his eyes at you.
Abby absolutely loved the rollercoaster and you weren’t entirely surprised that Mike did not love it as much. The ride photo was a hit for you and Abby. Abby was having the time of her life, sitting with you, while Mike sat behind with the most terrified look on his face. You and Abby spent a little too long laughing at the photo, Abby making sure to mock Mike as usual. The three of you continued on your adventure for the day as you walked hand in hand with Mike once again, Abby following next to you.
“I thought you said you liked rollercoasters Mike?” Abby questioned.
“Yeah, like ten years ago.” he replied, his voice ever so slightly still shaking from the adrenaline.
“Mike you were only like 14 years old ten years ago.” you were still chuckling at him. “Stop acting like such a grumpy old man.”
“Y/n called you an old man!” Abby started laughing at your accidental diss.
“Yeah, old man is a new low Y/n.”
“I didn’t mean it like that!” you tried defending yourself, but there was no coming back from this one.
“Mhm…” you knew Mike wasn’t buying it. You also knew exactly what he was fishing for.
Something you found out about the siblings as you continued to get to know them more was their ability to get what they wanted whenever they wanted it. They were both extremely good at it, too.
“Y/n! Can I pleaseee stay up tonight?” Abby begged you as you cleaned up her toys from the living room.
You looked at the clock on the wall that read 9:08.
“Abs, it’s only 9:08 you still have 20 more minutes to read or draw in your room.” you said, still finishing up picking up toys off the ground.
“Yeah, but I want to hang out with you!” she ran to the ground to latch onto your leg, not letting you move anymore.
“I know Abby, but your brother told me you gotta be in bed by 9:30. You can’t get up in the mornings when I let you stay up.”
“Pleaseee Y/n? Now that Mike is your boyfriend, you’re technically my mom now.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works-“ you were slightly embarrassed and intrigued that Abby really thought of you in that way.
“And if you’re technically my mom now, you can make up your own rules!”
You looked at the girl on the ground, still not allowing you movement. She gave you the most heart wrenching puppy dog eyes you couldn’t say no to.
“Alright, fine.” you sighed, smiling. “But only until 10, got it?”
“Got it!” she leaped off the ground, doing your special handshake with you as she got up.
You didn’t realize how late the two of you ended up staying up, it was now 11:30 and Abby was out like a light. The two of you were still on the couch in the living room. She looked way too cozy and you didn’t want to wake her up by moving her to her bed, so the two of you stayed there. You grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and placed it over the two of you.
It was moments like these you cherished most with Abby. She was probably going to be a pain in the ass to wake up the next morning. Mike was also probably going to call you at 7:30am the next day to come wake her up yourself because he “wasn’t the one who stayed up till midnight playing pillow fights with her.” Regardless, these moments were the best. You loved spending quality time with Abby as if she were your own sister. You knew how much you meant to her and if staying up till midnight with her is what makes her happy, you were gonna do it with her. Maybe not every night, but if she really wanted to, Abs always found a way to your heart.
At around 6am, a door quietly opened. The sun was just beginning to shine through the windows of the house. Mike set down his things before he walked towards the living room. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed you and Abby sound asleep on the couch. He quietly chuckled to himself, he knew exactly how the two of you ended up like that.
He couldn’t really be upset though. He knew how much Abby loved you and needed you to be there for her. He also couldn’t forget how lucky he was to have you as his girlfriend. The two of you became “official” just a few weeks ago, but Mike still felt like the luckiest guy in the world to have you by his side.
He sat down in he usual spot on the recliner across from the couch. You started slowly waking up as the sun began hitting your eyes from the windows. You rubbed your eyes as you oriented yourself with where you were. Through your still blurry vision you could just barely make out that Mike was sitting in his chair.
“Good morning Mikey.” you said quietly through a yawn, careful not to wake up Abby just yet.
“Morning babe.” he said with a small smile. “Let me guess, another sleepover night?”
“How did you know?” you said pretending to be surprised.
“Don’t worry about it Y/n. Long as you guys are happy, I’m happy.”
“Are you still going to make me wake her up when she doesn’t want to get up?”
“Of course I am. Still makes me happy to know Abs doing well when I’m not around, and I get to see you just a little longer before you have to leave for classes.”
“Well in that case, I’ll do girls night with Abby every night.” you were starting to get up from the couch, sitting up now stretching the sleepiness out of you.
“You’re too cute Y/n.”
“Mike, stop.” you buried your face into your hands. You had to be honest, you were still getting used to all this dating stuff. As much as his little compliments made you feel like prettiest girl in the world, you still didn’t know how control your reactions over them.
A small smirk was forming on his face.
“Make me.”
You looked up from your hands so quickly. You never realized how he was exactly like his sister. They both knew exactly how to get what they wanted. You got up slowly to not wake Abby, smiling and rolling your eyes, realizing you give in way too easily for these siblings.
You carefully walked over to Mike and squeezed yourself next to him on the chair (or you attempted to, it was more you sitting on him rather than the couch.)
You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you in closer. Your lips met his and everything felt perfect. It always did, it just felt right. It was like the two of you were meant to be, always and forever. After probably a little too long, you finally had to pull away from him. The two of you sat with your foreheads pressed together, admiring one another.
“How are you and Abby always so good at getting what you want?” you finally broke the comfortable silence.
“You’re just too nice to ever say no Y/n/n.” he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“And you and Abby are just difficult.” you said through a small laugh.
He pulled you in for one more kiss, the two of you smiling through it. When he pulled away he placed one more gentle kiss on your forehead. You let your head fall onto his shoulder, his left arm pulling you closer as the two of you just sat there. It wasn’t often the two of you had moments like this and you were both taking advantage of it.
“I should probably go wake up Abs now.” you said, wishing this feeling would never end, but you knew it had to at some point.
“Can we have five more minutes? Please?” he asked quietly, still holding onto you like he was gonna lose you at any moment.
And you couldn’t say no those brown puppy dog eyes that looked into yours.
You rolled your eyes with a smile as you leaned over to place a very quick kiss on Mikes lips.
“Y/n! You said you weren’t gonna kiss my brother in front of me today!” Abby said as she looked over with a disgusted look on her face.
“Your brother asked for it Abs.”
“That’s even worse, ew!” she gave you an unamused glare before running ahead of the two of you to her next big activity.
You gave Mike a knowing stare as he smirked back at you while you all continued walking. The two of you always found it funny that Abby was the matchmaker that got you two together, but now she could not stand the thought of you guys doing anything romantic. Ever.
After that, the rest of your day consisted of many activities including playing the prize games, riding tons more rides, and Abby forcing Mike on every big rollercoaster she could get him on.
Once you finally arrived at your final activity, it was like watching two kids in a candy store, quite literally. Abby’s eyes lit up as she walked into the ice cream store, she turned around to face you.
“Have you ever seen this many ice cream flavors in one place?!” she tried to contain her excitement.
“I don’t think I have Abs.” you said with a small laugh.
“Me either.” Mike said as he let go of your hand to begin inspecting every single flavor.
The two siblings spent a good half an hour in the shop just trying to decide what flavor to get. It was quite amusing watching Mike get so excited over ice cream. Out of all things, ice cream is what made him that happy. After everyone finally picked out a flavor (or more) the three of you left the shop to sit and eat your sweet treat.
“Today was the best day ever!” Abby said with a mouthful of rainbow sorbet.
“I have to agree with Abby on this one.” you said while poking at the rest of your ice cream
“I already want to come back and we haven’t even left yet.” Abby squealed.
“Hold it Abs, it’s gonna be a while until we can do this again.” Mike said.
“That’s okay, I can start collecting change so we can buy the tickets quicker!”
“Look at this little girlboss you have on your hands.” you said smiling at Mike.
“Believe me, I know.” he was already so used to Abby’s big ideas.
“I wish we didn’t have to leave already.” Abby said, looking down at her cup.
“It’s okay Abs, we’ll definitely be back before summer ends. Right Mike?” you looked over at Mike with your best puppy dog eyes, giving him a taste of his own medicine. He knew what you were doing. Abby quickly caught on to your idea and followed along.
“Anything for my girls.” he said with a smile.
“I am exhausted.” you said as you all made your way home, the dim moonlight shining through the windshield of the car. The quiet noise of Abby snoring from the backseat filled up the car.
“Pretty good first date, huh?” Mike said.
“More than pretty good, it was perfect.”
“Even with Abby here?”
“Especially with Abby here.” you smiled. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
Mike looked over at you quickly, not losing his focus from the road ahead of him.
“Me too.” he softly smiled, looking at the rearview mirror to see Abby fast asleep.
“How’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”
“I ask myself the same question every day.”
You leaned your head onto his arm, starting to feel extra sleepy from the quiet hum of the AC and Abby’s occasional snores.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
You slowly drifted off to sleep after hearing those four words. It was all you needed to know, the worlds best little reminder of who you were doing it all for.
Mike looked over at you once again, smiling to himself. After he thought about it some more, today really was the perfect first date. Not the most ideal with Abby there, but after all, she’s the reason the two of you met in the first place.
Mike carefully moved his hand to turn on the radio, quiet enough not to wake you or Abby, but loud enough to keep him awake. The quiet sound of the song “Yellow” by Coldplay now filled the car. Mike smiled again, remembering that this song was yours and his. A constant reminder how Y/n would do anything for Mike and Mike would do anything for Y/n. A reminder for Mike that if he never mentioned this babysitting job to the neighbor across the street, this bond would’ve never formed.
An even bigger reminder to Y/n that taking the job from the neighbor across the street was the best decision she could’ve ever made. A decision that changed her life and the lives of two siblings who just needed a little extra love.
——————————————————————————
A/N: one final massive THANK YOU to everyone who supported this little series 🫶 i hope everyone enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing. I plan on doing one or two more little cutesy fics in this same AU so keep an eye out for this :) until then, thank you once more. sending each and every one of you big hugs! 🫂
jules jewels 🤗
@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @marsmallow433 @prongsprincessworld @ajlareads @k3nnlolz @louweasleymalfoy @chompwoman @wasabidottie @queenie-official @emmaishere432 @curasimp @nevvdrinksteaa @rcailleachcola @scribblesandsherlock @iheartyouyou @prosteticsynthesis @hotgothchick @novausstuff @1-akira-2 @starringo @planetevermore @cherriebat @bethsvrse
dedicated to @mxrvelouss for dealing w my delusions and also feeding into them by letting me write this. love u w all my heart 🫶 the peeta to my bread 🫡
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jackie5656 · 1 year
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Mine First  With; James Potter (ATJ)
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  A/N: Hello again! This took forever, I know. Writing has been taking me so much longer lately. What used to be single sit downs has become a three week mf process. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. This one was based of a request so feel free to keep flooding the inbox.
Summary: The one where you finally meet James’ best friends
TW: some suggestive humor, drinking
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        It’s a brisk walk from where the cab’s dropped you off to the pub. The summer air is inviting, and you can smell some bonfire miles away as the streetlights illuminate your path from the lot. The harrowing work week has come and gone, and James has finally convinced you to meet his long-loved group of friends for a drink. 
It’s not like you believed you wouldn't like them. From the loads of stories of your boyfriends retold fondly from his school years, they’re an amazing bunch. But that’s just the thing, James’ friends seem absolutely amazing. A beautiful blend of complimenting personalities to form one unbreakable bond. 
Its undoubtedly intimidating. You’d never want to nose your way in on such a close-knit group. They’ve shared so much together, you’d hate to intrude. Besides, what if they didn’t enjoy your company? Whether you were too closed-off, too eccentric, too in-between. The thought has you stopping in your tracks, just short of the quaint pubs’ entrance. James halts too, having been pulled back your interlocked hands. The elation falls from his face as his eyes meet yours, lips pulling into a frown at your anxious demeanor. 
“What is it, love?” His hands go to hold your face, side-stepping drunken patrons as they shuffle out of the door. 
“What if they don’t like me?” If James’ eyes weren’t trained on your every movement, every breath, he’d probably miss the words slip past your lips. There’s not an ounce of self pity to them. It’s so soft, so gentle he practically feels his heart tear in two. 
“Sweetheart,” it escapes as a chuckle, astonished at the notion. “I promise you, those chances are terribly slim. Impossible even.” He presses a kiss to your lips because he can’t help it, another to your jaw. Willing away the oncoming anxiety in a way only he can manage. “They’re going to love you.” 
“You can’t know that.” You tug at sleeves of his leather jacket you’ve borrowed, feeling simultaneously under and over dressed with the white long-sleeved top underneath. 
“I can, because I love you.” His hands fall to your hips to send a reassuring squeeze, readjusting your necklace so the clasp is to the back of your neck. “Stop fiddling with your outfit, you look great.” His hazel eyes narrow, “a little too good, I think. Avoid Sirius, he’ll start flirting.” You only roll your eyes, letting him pull you into an embrace with a slow, deep breath. Pushing at his broad shoulders and fighting a fit of giggles when he blows a raspberry into your neck.
“Okay, okay. Enough, James.”
“Im sorry, love. Can’t help it.” He mutters the confession into the shell of your ear, ignoring your squirms of protest. With a reluctant pull away, he raises his brows in expectation, satisfied smirk adorning his features now that he’s effectively warmed you up. “We ready?” 
“Ready.” You take his outstretched hand with ease, letting him lead you in.
Light and laughter swarms your senses as soon as the door opens. The quiet of the night escapes you as it shuts behind your form. James greets a few familiar faces as he leads you through the crowded pub. It’s a town favorite, one he frequents with his friends. So much so that the owner saves a booth in the back for the lot of them. 
They’re rowdy as you approach, in the midst of some drinking game you recognize from high school. A pile of spoons are lined up on the table whilst they all reach for playing cards to add to their pile. The pretty red head’s eyes widen when she collects her most recent card, diving across to reach for a utensil. The rest of them are instantaneous in their follow-up, all reaching for a spoon of their own with a chorus of shouts and profanities. A tall, sandy haired gentleman huffs a sigh, regrettably chugging what’s left in his cup, seeing as he’s the only one without a utensil in hand. Faded scars adorn his handsome features, and it’s then you recognize him as Remus. The kind soul with some chronic illness, though it does little to stiffen his sass. 
James clears his throat, grabbing the group’s attention. “Having all the fun without us, are you?” They erupt in cheers, delighted with his presence. Immediately, their eyes avert to you, all kind and curious smiles. “Everyone, this is y/n. Love, this is...Everyone.” You offer a shy wave, immediately feeling silly with the action. 
“But…She’s so pretty?” A long, raven-haired boy chimes in, and another fit of laughter elicits from the group. The red head stands, ushering you into the booth with a gentle manicured hand on your shoulder. 
“Sit down, sit down. You’re as lovely as James described.” A blush adorns your cheeks, a glance to James for reassurance as you sit. “I’m Lilly, we’re so happy to finally meet you!” 
“Considering Prongs has hid you from us for so long.” A beautiful girl with curly hair and caramel-colored skin teases beside Remus, squeezing your hand with hers. With another quick look to your boyfriend, he mouths ‘Mary’ without needing you to ask. 
“Can you blame me? We’re here all of two seconds and you’re on her like hounds.” James’ hand squeezes your knee as he leans down, grabbing your attention. “What d’you want to drink?” It's a bit noisy, you have to focus your hearing on him amongst all the excitement. 
“Surprise me.” Is all you can manage, nodding to Remus when he holds up cards in a silent ask if you’ll join the game. 
“Anyone else?” A chorus of orders follows your boyfriend’s polite gesture, and he frowns. “Pitchers for the table it is, then. Be back in a sec.” With a kiss to your temple, your boyfriend backs away to leave you to the (albeit friendly) wolves. Sirius scrambles out of the booth, eager to unload all his questions on his best friend.
“Hold up, Prongs. I’ll help!” Immediately, the connection between the two is palpable. The lanky boy practically tackles your boyfriend into a hug. Patting his back in an obvious ‘job well done.’ You ignore their shared gaze as they await their orders. James is more than happy to blabber on about you to anyone that will let him, so he allows the array of questions from his best friend. 
“They’re quite a pair.” You note fondly, watching as Black ruffles a blushing James’ hair at the bar. 
“I’ll say.” Remus smiles too, expertly shuffling the stack of cards as he glances over at the two. “Biggest troublemakers in our year.” The girls nod along, setting up the game front them between sips of their drinks. 
“You’re kidding?” This catches all their attention, pausing their movements as you cock your head in question. 
“You mean James hasn’t mentioned his pranking phase?” You shake your head,  feeling as though you’re about to gain some great blackmail. 
“Not even the time he accidentally died his own hair pink for a week?” 
“Shut up.” The three nod eagerly, and you decide you love them already. 
“We’ll get into that later,” Mary frowns at the cards in hand, uncaring for a poker face. Brown eyes glistening with mischief as she surveys you. “Give us all details on James.”
You can only laugh. “Like what?” The four of you are quick as you converse, picking up cards and putting them down just as swiftly. Eager to collect four of a kind. 
“Is he romantic?” Lilly starts, muttering a profanity at a card before disposing it.
“Does he plan all of the dates?” Mary adds, eyes averting to the pair still at the bar to ensure your privacy.
“Does he still lose his glasses six times a day?” His old roommate grumbles, no real irritation to it. Sirius approaches the table before James with enough time to hear the interviewing, sliding in the booth beside you after setting the pitcher of beer down with a smug grin. 
“Is he as good in bed as he lets on?” You cough on your own saliva at his  teasing, trying to gain composure as James approaches. Brows taught in concern as he surveys the lot of his friends trying to conceal their laughter. Sirius goes to pat your back soothingly, making contact only once before he’s hoisted from his seat by the collar and sent to the booth on the other side. James takes his place, shooting an incredulous glare to his best mate when you offer a meek smile after having calmed down. 
“Alright, dove? You’re flushed.” He cups your jaw in his hand, thumb rubbing over your brow. You pull at his wrist to cease his doting, eyes shooting toward Remus when he snatches a spoon. You try, but your distraction has gotten the best of you. You stick a tongue out to the lot of them as they cheer, tilting you head back to chug your drink. James beams as they applaud on, astonished at your speed. An overwhelming sense of pride filling him at their impress. 
When you’re finished, grimacing at the taste and laughing along, Potter can’t help but stare. You’re fitting right in, just as he’d suspected. Completely enamored with the notion, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, shifting closer so he can get in on the game.
Your pitchers are on their third refill when James pulls you into his lap, insisting it’ll grant more room to the pair of you and the two girls beside you. Usually, you’d refuse his public displays of affection, but it’s honestly more comfortable for the lot of you. Admittedly, his friends are even better than he’s described, and despite having just met them you feel completely at ease in their company. When you’ve changed card games and you’ve still lost, Potter wraps his arms around you so that you can see his own. “You can be on my team, then.” He has to lean close for you to hear, and you bite back a smile in lieu of a poker face. Eyeing the raven-haired boy from across the table with a smug grin. 
“Thank you, Jamie. Always so generous.” This time, Sirius chokes. Trying not to spit out the contents of his pint all over the table at your suggestive tone. The rest of the booth besides your poor, clueless boyfriend crumples into fits of laughter. Unbeknownst to your previous conversation and your obvious innuendo. 
“I love her, Prongs. She’s officially one of us.” Mary kisses the crown of your head whilst wiping tears from her eyes. 
Potter is still utterly bewildered at your odd behaviors, but the elation of your acceptance is still distracting. Of course, he knew this would happen. He knows better than anyone how impossible it’d be not to love you. 
“Agreed, let’s keep her.” Remus jests, tilting his glass to you with an amused smile. 
“Here,” Lilly leans over her curly-haired friend with her phone outstretched to you. “Let’s exchange numbers. This way I won’t have to go through Prongs.” 
Mary nods, narrowing her eyes at your boyfriend above you. “We should add her to the girls group chat too, if he’s being a prick she can let us know and we’ll tell him off.” 
“I’m sitting right here, you know.” James shields his cards from Remus, who’s attempting to take the distraction as an opportunity to cheat. 
When you’re finished typing your digits into the redheads phone, you lean forward to look at both girls with raised brows. “Bathroom?” They nod, motioning for your boyfriend to slide you both out of the booth so they can file out. You hesitate before following them, turning on your heel to face the boys again. 
“Sirius is completely bluffing. And Remus has a good hand, but it’s not as good as yours. Don’t fold.” You press a kiss to his temple before taking Lilly’s hand to maneuver through the rowdy crowd, leaving the trio with jaws dropped. Sirius chucks his pile onto the table face up, arms crossed with childish pout. Remus folds too, too impressed to be angry. 
“Mate, how on Earth did you manage that one?” James can’t face them, too focused on watching your frame disappear into the crowd. 
“Absolutely no clue, honestly.” 
********
You huff a sigh as you press send on the seventh email of the night, overwhelmed with the current workload as a company presentation approaches. James is in the living room watching tv, decompressing from his own work day. He gets a call, and there’s some back and forth before he’s knocking at the office door. Approaching with the phone to his ear and a sympathetic smile at your hunched form. 
“Dove, lads want to know if you’ll make it out tonight.” 
“I don't know.” You purse your lips, considering your options as you make a correction to your project. 
“She's not sure, finishing up work,” a pause as he awaits response.  “What do you mean I might as well not come?” You laugh at that, rubbing your temples to ease your stress. James comes up behind you to massage your shoulder with his free hand. Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head with furrowed brows.  “That won't convince her, and especially not me. I buy all her drinks, Black.” There's more conversation on the other line, one you still can't make out despite your boyfriends proximity. “Oh. Well that might.” James presses the phone to his chest and spins your chair so you’re facing him. Crouching down to level with you. “Pads says he’ll sign up for karaoke if you come out.” More talking on the phone has him pressing it to his ear again, grimacing. “Says they won't tolerate my moping if you aren't there.”
“Is he serious?” James rolls his eyes, though it’s not directed at you. This time you can make out the ‘that's my name’ cheekily shouted on the other line. Potter tilts your chin to meet his eyes, full of heartwarming sincerity.
“Up to you, lovely. No pressure.” 
You hate how well he reads you. Practically visualizing the balance scale in your head, anxiously weighing your options. To be fair, you’ve been at it for hours, and have the rest of the weekend to make any last minute changes to the work. 
“Give me an hour to get ready.” There’s muffled cheers through the phone, and your boyfriend doesn’t even try to conceal his pleased expression as he presses chaste kiss to your lips. 
***********
You’re busy in the kitchen next time round. Adding freshly chopped vegetables to the sizzling pan whilst James stirs. It’s awfully domestic, a fondness your heart still hasn’t grown accustomed to. 
You’re planning for a movie night. It’s been a long day and an even longer week,  so a night in seems fitting. Music sounds softly from the record player across the room, Potter admires the way you hum along to the tune without thinking. He catches your frame with his free arm amidst your path to the fridge in search of more ingredients, nipping at the juncture of skin between your neck and shoulder despite your squirms. You pretend to resent his constant longing for affection, half-heartedly pushing against his bicep with muffled laughter into the fabric of his shirt. 
“You’re unbearable, Potter.”
“Hardly.” You shut him up by feeding him a cherry tomato, knowing full well he’ll only eat them unless they're incorporated into a meal. He practically gags, lunging toward you in search of revenge. Heavy arms wrap around your waist to hoist you onto the counter, his hazel eyes narrowed with feigned betrayal. Your phone goes off just then, Lilly’s contact photo beams brightly beside you. 
“Saved by the bell. You’re lucky.” You wave off his empty threats, bringing the phone to your ear with a delighted, albeit confused, smile. 
“Hello?”
“Have you even bothered glancing at the group chat? You’re coming, aren’t you?” 
Your doting boyfriend, nosey as he is, nudges himself between your knees once more. Lowering the heat on the stove to slow it’s cooking. 
“Marlene’s hosting a girls night! Sort of last minute, I know. But we’re all in dire need of a shit talk and a drink, yeah?”
James rears his head back from where it’s situated against yours to hear better, beaming bright with a succinct nod. 
“That does sound nice-”
“Lovely! James won’t mind driving you I’m sure.” Your mouth opens to speak before he’s leaning in close again.
“Not at all, anyone else need a ride?” 
“Prongs, you shouldn’t be eavesdropping. But no, thank you. We should be alright. See you around 8, y/n. Dress code is strictly pajamas, by the way.” 
“Great, thanks Lill’s.” The call ends just in time for the red head to miss James clashing his lips into yours. Grin never leaving his face as his hands take your head in their hold. You pout despite him.
“What about our movie night? You’re not upset?”
“Not at all, lovely. I love that they love you, and I’m even happier that I was right.” 
“And our raincheck?”
“Tomorrow. When you’re hungover and grumpy and I can smother you to my hearts content.” You adjust his glasses and his hair, feeling unworthy of his selfless nature. “I’m just wondering when my mates decided they fancy your company over mine.” 
************
James is enthralled in the rom-com you’d begged him to watch during your marathon. The same one he guaranteed he wouldn’t watch unless you forced him, and promised he’d save for tomorrow. He’s nearing the end and still debating whether he should fess up or pretend to be watching it for the first time when you accompany him. His phone buzzes beside him, a click as he answers before even glancing at the contact.
“Yes?” 
“Hey, Jamie.” Your smile is evident in your voice, light and airy. Potter’s brows shoot upward at the nickname, one rarely used unless you’re-
“I’m a little drunk.” It’s a whisper, some sacred secret he’s elated in receiving. Cheeks burning with the knowing grin adorning his features as he stands. Patting pockets and tossing round pillows in search for his keys. 
“Things are wrapping up there, sweetheart?”
“I think so. Most of the girls are staying over. They're really nice, Jamie. I think they like me.” His grin grows impossibly bigger, heart thrumming with pure love as you hiccup between words. 
“I’m sure they do, lovely. Very hard not to. Did you want to stay?” There's a pause, a shuffle on the other end. As if you’ve switched ears.
“I thought about it...” He cocks his head, awaiting your conclusion. “But I think..” Another pause.
“What is it, sweetheart?” 
“I miss you.” The three words elicit more emotion than winning the Quidditch cup. Without a doubt.
“Yeah?” 
“Only a bit.” You’re shy, then. Distracted by an eruption of laughter and a shout of your name in the background.
“Only a bit? I’ll leave you girls to it, then.” 
“James-”
“Only joking, Dove. Give me twenty minutes, yeah?” 
“Drive safe, please.”
“Always. I’ll text you when I’m there.” 
**********
“Potter!” Dorcas points a wobbly finger toward the man leaning against his car at the curb, eyes narrowed. “You’re stealing her from us?” You’re too busy giving a second round of farewell hugs to notice him just then. 
“She was mine first, you know.” 
“Nonsense.” Mary crosses her arms in mock defense. “We’ve turned her to the dark side.” It’s then you face his direction, unable to conceal how quickly your face lights up. Swiftly enclosing the space between you and nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. He presses an array of kisses to the top of your head, and extra couple to your lips before he pulls you in again. Sticking his tongue out victoriously to the girls ahead. 
“They’re so in love, it’s nauseating.” Dorcas is all smiles as she speaks her mind. Her and Marlene approaching Potter as he opens the door for you. Unnecessarily reaching over to clasp your seatbelt himself. 
“You better take care of this one, Prongs.” Mary nudges the much taller brunette with complete sincerity. Doing her best to seem intimidating. 
“Right.” Dorcas nods along, eyes trailing his form as he rounds toward the drivers side. “If you fuck it up and its between you and her, we’re choosing her.” James can’t help but laugh, arms raised in surrender as his eyes instinctively fall onto you. 
“I wouldn’t blame you, honestly. I’d choose her too.” Its a chorus of gags at this, though Potter’s too enveloped in your abashed demeanor to care. 
“Off my property, the two of you. You’re sickening.”  
<3masterlist<3
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andreisvechnikov · 5 days
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Hurricanes’ Seth Jarvis leans into status as an honorary Harvard grad
By: Luke Decock, April 24, 2024
When Tripp Tracy was asked to speak at a meeting of the Harvard Club of the Research Triangle last week, he naturally invited the Carolina Hurricanes’ two other Harvard Men to join him. Jack Drury, owner of a Harvard diploma, class of 2023. Seth Jarvis, owner of a “Harvard Alumni” T-shirt, class of not quite veritas.
Neither Drury nor Jarvis could attend because of the team’s pre-playoff dinner gathering, but Jarvis was nevertheless welcome despite his self-proclaimed “Grade 6” education, because if there’s one thing that’s true about the Hurricanes’ third-year forward above all else, it’s that if you try to make him the butt of a joke, even a heartfelt, good-natured one, he’ll find a way to turn it back around on you.
When Drury returned from his Cambridge graduation last summer with the crimson T-shirt as a gift for Jarvis, he never expected Jarvis to cut off the sleeves.
He never expected Jarvis to make it his undershirt and wear it under his shoulder pads every single day of the season. For every practice. Every game. Every postgame interview.
“I thought, there’s no better way to put it to use than cut it into a tank top and wear it under my gear,” Jarvis said.
Seth Jarvis. Harvard alum. The shirt says so.
“There have been a few people who have seriously asked me if I went to Harvard,” Jarvis said, “and they’ve obviously never had a conversation with me.”
The Hurricanes have always had a strong connection to Harvard, through Tracy and his youth teammate and future front-office executive Jason Karmanos, through players like Craig MacDonald and Craig Adams.
They’ve had players from the rest of the hockey-playing Ivy League schools as well, other than Brown: Jeff Hamilton (Yale), Kevin Westgarth (Princeton), Lee Stempniak (Dartmouth), Riley Nash (Cornell). Now Drury. And, apparently, Jarvis.
“I think it’s been awesome,” Tracy said. “I would have liked to have had him on the roster.”
Even within the hockey world, it’s hard to imagine two teammates as different as the goofy Manitoban and the cosmopolitan Harvard grad becoming so close. Jarvis left home at 14 to play junior hockey in the Western Hockey League and was in the NHL by age 18.
Drury, scion of a prominent hockey family, spent two years at Harvard and another year overseas in Sweden; even though Drury is two years older than Jarvis, Jarvis has played more than 100 more NHL games than Drury.
The two are akin to brothers as much as they are friends or teammates, so when Drury gave Jarvis the shirt, it was with the best of intentions. Still, give Jarvis an inch or two, he’ll take all 200 feet, same in the dressing room as on the rink.
“I got it for him hoping he would wear it,” Drury said. “Using it as the undershirt, I love that. I didn’t know he’d do that. Once he started to do it, I thought it was awesome. He’s a character. But you couldn’t have a better guy around the room.”
Every single day, the shirt goes into his laundry bag to be laundered with the rest of the team’s base layers, an old-school throwback amid the sweat-wicking, high-tech gear.
By now, seven months into the season, as the Hurricanes head north for Thursday’s Game 3 against the New York Islanders with a 2-0 lead in their first-round series, the T-shirt should probably be in tatters. It looks just fine. Other than the missing sleeves.
“It’s hung on,” Jarvis said. “It’s high quality. Only the best at Harvard.”
At the end of the regular season, when Jarvis sat in on the Bally Sports broadcast with Tracy and Mike Mansicalco while sitting out Game 82, he told Tracy he would have liked to major in “micro-macro engineering” at Harvard, which sounds like a typical Jarvis malaprop, mishmashing economics and engineering. But it also could very well be somebody’s bespoke “special concentration” in Harvard’s engineering school, studying “theories of engineering principles” or the “interactions between microscopic innovation and large system models.”
Jarvis, with his elite hockey IQ and even quicker wit, may be more evidence that you don’t have to be book smart to be smart. He plays up the dopey-goofball angle because it gets laughs — “There’s still a lot of stupidity going on throughout my day,” Jarvis said — and won the Josef Vasicek Award this season for his quotability, but he’s the son of two educators, and there’s a spark that animates both his personality and his game, burning bright under all the self-deprecating humor.
“He plays a little dumb, but he’s pretty smart actually,” Martin Necas said. “I’m positive. He’s pretty smart. He just makes himself look like it on purpose, sometimes.”
Watching his game grow over the past two seasons, as he spent last year becoming a two-way player and this season reaping the rewards, it’s fair to wonder what would happen if he applied himself in the classroom as he has to his hockey career. Who knows what might be possible.
“It’s never too late,” Drury said. “He plays it up a little bit but he’s smarter than people realize. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
And the T-shirt over his shoulders to sort-of prove it.
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AITA for assuming my friend was single? (TW: small mention of suicidal ideation)
I (21FTM) have known Jake (22M) since we were in middle school. We became close friends early on during high school, and have had a good relationship ever since. When he and his long-term girlfriend broke up during our junior year, I was the person he turned to the most. The break-up was bad. Like, really bad. Bad to the point where I sometimes worry that he wouldn’t be here today if he hadn’t reached out to me. (Not in the sense that he was unhealthily dependent on me, or that I felt responsible for his mental health. He got a therapist and responsibly handled all that with her, but only at my insistence, and I fear that’s a step he never would’ve taken if I didn’t insist.) By senior year, he and became FWB. We weren’t worried about it messing with our friendship—he’s heteroromantic, i’m aro—and it continued for about a year until the both of us left for college. We’ve stayed friends and our relationship has remained close. We talk so often that it rarely feels like anything’s changed at all.
December of last year, he excitedly told me that he got a girlfriend again in Emily (21?F). I was ecstatic, of course. He’d struggled a lot with the idea of a romantic relationship after his last girlfriend, and I was happy he felt comfortable enough to open up again. As I said, his previous relationship really fucked him up. Anyways, because of the distance, I never got to actually talk to Emily much outside of when she was at his place during our video calls. She was super nice from the few times we did interact, and from the way he described her when she wasn’t around, you’d think she was a literal angel. Him gushing about her lasted up until early May. Suddenly, he didn’t mention her at all. It was like she never existed. I didn’t see her once at his place, and the few times I tried to ask about her, he instantly shut me down. He was more down than usual, not to the point of worry like I’d previously seen him, but to the point were it was notable. I asked him a few times if he was alright, and reminded him that I was there whenever he needed me, but he just said that he was going through something rough and that he’d be okay, but didn’t really want to talk about it. I didn’t want to push, and from the way he reacted whenever i brought up Emily’s name, and from his previous experience, I assumed she and him had broken up. I had no way to contact her to check, and even if I did, that’d feel like overstepping, considering I never talked to her when he wasn’t around. It was obviously a sensitive subject and stressing him out, so I followed his lead and just didn’t mention her at all. Their relationship wasn’t my business, after all, and if he didn’t want to tell me what happened, that was his right.
School got out for the summer, and shortly after both of us returned home, he asked if I wanted to rekindle our FWB relationship for the summer. It wasn’t like it was the first thing out of his mouth, and he seemed to be doing a lot better seeing him in person, so I agreed. That was in the beginning of June. Cut to two days ago, nearly two months later. Jake left for a family vacation a week prior, and will only be returning at the end of the month. Meanwhile, I meet up with one of our mutual friends who I haven’t been able to see until now due to our conflicting schedules. While talking, she makes some joke about Jake and Emily having “trouble in paradise.” My heart stops as I ask her what she means. Didn’t they break up months ago? She tells me no, they’ve been having relationship issues for a while, but they’re still very much together. She shows me a picture from Emily’s instagram (I don’t use instagram, for reference) that Emily had posted just a few hours ago of her and Jake kissing on the beach. What Jake conveniently forgot to tell me about his “family vacation” is that his girlfriend had *also* been invited.
I instantly tried messaging him that we need to talk, but either he isn’t checking his phone (unlikely) or he knows I know and is purposefully ignoring me. Logically, I know that he’s the bigger asshole in this situation. But I can’t help but feel slightly at fault. I feel like I should’ve questioned him more, or found some way to reach out to her, or even asked any of our other mutual friends about it, because obviously at least one (maybe even some) of them knew, and all of his could’ve been avoided. I also don’t know what to do regarding Emily. I have her instagram now, curtesy of my friend, but I’m afraid to message her. Not necessarily afraid to break the news, I’m already constructing a message to send to her (which I will be doing), but more afraid that she won’t believe me. I’ll have to make an account, and I’m afraid her being messaged by a blank account created only hours ago from a guy she talked to a few dozen times, max, may be sketchy. I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t believe me (I have a few messages from him, but no photos, and those screenshots could be easily faked), because there’s no other way for me to contact her. If she blocks me or ignores the message because of how sketchy it sounds, there’s nothing else I can do.
TLDR: I assumed my friend had broken up with his girlfriend due to him acting weird when I brought her up, became FWB, only to find out he was using me to cheat on her. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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Far From My Eyes
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Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: It’s summer now, and Javier can look forward to a glorious four months with her alone. He gets to have her all for himself for what feels like an infinite amount of months, the long hazy days of the hottest weeks of the year stretching out in front of him like salt water taffy. 
Warnings: childhood best friends to ??, fluff and a tad bit of angst, lots of longing, idiots in love, young!javi deserves more love, a tad bit of body insecurity from both ends
A/N: I took inspiration from the absolute masterpiece that is Fleabag and voila I have an idea for a series. The dialogue I used from Phoebe Waller-Bridge is bolded down below.
I don't own photos, or characters. Divider is from the talented @firefly-graphics.
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Her hands are tucked between the side of her face and her pillow and Javier knows that it’s going to smell like her tomorrow morning and he also knows that he’s going to be desperate enough to press his face into it. She looks like those statues of sleeping child angels. The soft glow from his nightstand light only adds to the effect. 
It’s late at night or early morning. She’s half-asleep but fighting it.
His sheets are tucked around her chest, and she’s wearing one of his shirts because she claims that they’re softer than hers. There’s a soft smile hanging around her mouth like early morning dew on a tree’s leaves. It’s a look on her that tugs at something inside him that’s never been tugged at before, but his mind is too muddled to make much sense of it. 
They’ve spent the better part of six hours like this. 
Old habits die hard. 
She was only supposed to stay for dinner, but then he’d taken her to his room claiming that there was a book of hers still in his shelves, which there had been, but then they’d never managed to make it out after. 
They’ve found themselves in much the same position as this for over fifteen years. Her hands tucked between her face and pillow, his underneath the covers and both of them on their sides facing each other. 
She always lies down closest to the wall. This evening had been no different. He hadn’t even asked her to stay the night but she had this way of drawing him into doing the things she wanted for her, and all of a sudden Javier had found himself handing over his t-shirt, crawling into bed and shifting awkwardly as she tried to do the same. 
Some of his best memories as a child come from moments like these. 
The time when she’d confessed her first crush on a boy in their class, the other when he’d done the same for his first crush because it felt easier to tell it to her and not his friends at school. 
The many times she’d snuck in a box of cookies and they’d eaten all of them until their stomachs were fit to burst, and they were giggling with all the sugar gone to their head. 
Those couple of weeks where Javier had found a series of scary story collections in the library and read them to her out loud, and then held her as close as he could to himself so that she could fall asleep. 
Dozens upon dozens of memories stacked on top of each other like printed photos, all bathed in soft yellow light and drowning in that gentle silence the night would take on when everyone in the house had fallen asleep. 
Looking at her now, at the warm glow of her eyes and the way her hair spreads on her pillow, he finds himself craving chocolate chips and walnuts. Finds that he wants to hold her hand and doesn’t know how to ask for it without it seeming weird. 
He’s been desperate for the press of her skin against his, the soft feel of her breaths fanning over his arm and the way her ribs would rise and fall in time. His body has been starved of her in the past few months where she’d been away from him and at college. 
It’s summer now though, and Javier can look forward to a glorious four months with her alone, listening to the melodic tilt of her voice as she tells him about college and Austin and what happened when she was away from him as if trying to justify her absence. There’ll be popsicles that will end up more on the ground than in their stomachs, and his hand will be sticky with sugar. 
He gets to have her all for himself for what feels like an infinite amount of months, the long hazy days of the hottest weeks of the year stretching out in front of him like salt water taffy. 
It’s been two years, two summers and he’s still fooling himself. He’ll blink and they’ll be at the end of August and he’ll be laying on her bed watching her pack her things up again, and biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything stupid, envy gnawing at his heart. 
Even as a kid he’d known she’d been destined for bigger things than Laredo. Had seen it in her voice and in the images she painted for him in his bed when he asked her to tell him a story. She could do that really well, and didn’t need to rely on books the way Javier had to to have the same effect. 
But even if she is destined for better, bigger, greater, she’s also his friend and Javier loves her in a way he’s not sure he’s able to describe. Which means that he doesn’t like having to see her off twice a year, scared that she’ll never come back and leaving him here all alone, the ghost of her shadow hanging around every corner. 
When he goes to pick her up, at Christmas and in April, there’s a clamp twisted around his ribs and it doesn’t go away until he hears the tears at the edge of her voice and feels the way her hands press into his shoulders. Then he can breathe easy because she’s back and the inevitable has been pushed off for another time. 
Javier’s drawn back to the present by the flutter of her eyelids, keenly aware that they’re slower coming back up than they were going down. He should let her sleep but he’s suddenly terrified of what’s to come in August and the hour has painted it so that he’s scared that maybe he’s dreaming.
So, he shuffles forward, and the sound opens her eyes. She starts to smile at him again.
If it is a dream, he hopes it lasts a while. 
“If you could change anything…in the whole world,” His voice is still gravelly from the way she’d made him laugh this evening until he felt that he couldn’t breathe anymore. “What would it be?” 
Her face is always so open for him, so easy to read. He thinks that if he gets close enough to her eyes, he can see the thoughts arise behind them. There’s a dent between her eyebrows that shows when she’s thinking and Javier presses it away with his thumb. He hides his hands away before he can think too much of it. 
“My thighs.” 
He laughs, “In the whole world?” It’s clear that it’s late and her mind isn’t working the way it should. He was expecting an answer more worldly from her. Eliminate corruption. Free education and healthcare for all. 
Still, he likes her answer much more. Likes that she gave it to him plainly and that she didn’t hide behind words and ideas that were too big for the town, and by association, himself. The people of Laredo say she has her head too far up in the clouds, that her imagination hadn’t been reeled in at the right time and that she’s a lost cause now. 
College. They say it as if it’s shameful, when it’s all Javier wants. 
Sometimes, he’d catch her eye and feel like he’s the only one who ever really knew her. 
He knows that she thinks too much and that she feels too much. She does too much of everything for everyone else that she forgets herself sometimes and Javier has to bring her back with a gentle hand for fear of scaring her away irrevocably. 
“But don’t tell anyone I said that,” the fleshy little anxious part of her is wide awake now, her mind having mulled it over for too long. She lets out a small nervous laugh that she only half-commits to, abandoning it before it’s completely out.
Javier shakes his head, inches forward that much more. With every breath he takes in, he can smell her, and it’s strong enough that he can’t pretend that he’s making it up. 
“You?” 
He follows the same line of reasoning as her answer, “I’ve always been insecure about my face.” He thinks about the time she’d been the only one able to find him during hide-and-seek, and how, instead of ratting him out, she’d squeezed herself next to him and held his hand so hard that his fingers hurt. He thinks in turn about how she didn’t leave until the moment he’d felt ready. “You know that.” 
Her smile widens, she’s grinning at him now. He can’t take it anymore and reaches for her hand. She gives it to him without a qualm or question and lets him thread their fingers together. “You shouldn’t.” 
Looking away from her for a few seconds he wills the red to not rise to his face, “Well, thanks but-” 
“I mean it,” she squeezes his hand, her voice warm. “Seriously, there’s nothing wrong with your nose.” 
That makes him pause, pushes down the insecurity that was rapidly growing inside him like mould. He looks at her and frowns. 
“I mean, there’s nothing wro-” 
“Say that again.” 
“I mean there’s nothin-” 
“What?” 
Javier’s just fucking with her now. 
“I don’t know…” he narrows his eyes at her in the way that always makes her spill something she’d been hiding from him. The soft corners of her voice turn panicked, “I always say the wrong thing!” He wants to contradict her, but she’s already hiding away from him, face pressed into his chest. 
The air gets kicked out of his lungs because of how close she is to him and how she’s staying so close to him. She’d arrived over a week ago but had just come for dinner tonight, at Chucho’s insistence only.
Despite the years they’ve spent together, Javier becomes shy when she first comes back, awkward and fumbling as he tries to pull himself upright long enough so that she doesn’t suspect anything’s changed in their relationship. 
Because really, nothing has. 
It just takes a while for him to get used to her and the idea that she’s once again a four minute drive away from him. 
“You’re an asshole,” she mumbles and he can feel it in his chest. He’s glad she can’t see him now because he’s trying to rapidly blink away his tears. 
He’s missed her. 
“M’know.” 
“I’ve missed you,” pulling away, she looks up at him. The words are offered up like an apology. Javier doesn’t accept it because she can never do wrong to him. For a split second he fears that she’ll go back to her side of his bed and without thinking about it, his free arm curls around her. 
“M’know.” 
The corners of her eyes crinkle, “Smart-ass.” 
He rolls his eyes and his hand seeks out the comforting dips and grooves of her spine. 
In a couple of days, he’ll regain his footing and be brave enough to reach underneath her shirt and feel her skin. Right now, it’ll be too intense for him, he has to build up to it. “You meant it? ‘Bout my nose?” 
“Yeah,” her gaze falls to it. “There’s nothing wrong with it…Really, I mean it, and not just ‘cause you’re my friend either.” Javier’s just a little scared that she’d managed to read his mind even after they’ve spent months apart. 
Javier thinks that the person who first said ‘far from the eye, far from the heart’ had never really loved anyone. 
“I don’t-” 
“You should…the tip, it’s very…kissable.” 
He’s suddenly acutely aware of how close she is to him, and swallows in time with the bob of her throat. She lets go of his hand and he lets her and tries to ignore the caving in of his stomach. 
Her head falls beside his on his pillow. She’s just far away enough so that his eyes can focus on her. He tries not to think of her and how she’s thought that his nose is kissable and fails miserably. 
“Javi?” 
“Hm?” 
“Will you take me to the movies sometime?” 
His forehead wrinkles, “Of course.” There’s a movie theatre just over an hour by car from Laredo that they’ve been going to since he’d learned to drive. Summer was synonymous with cold ice cream and her smile beaming at him in his bed, spending the days fleeing the hot sun and the evenings in the violently AC’d air of the movie theatre. “‘Course I will.” Fear seizes up in his throat, “Why are you askin’?” 
She just shrugs, eyes falling to his shirt and staying there. 
He presses, anxiety drumming in his blood, “When d’ya wanna go?” 
“Oh, I dunno,” she shuffles closer to him on the pillow and Javier has to hold his head just a little further back so he can see her clearly. “Just…sometime.” 
The static of the silent night falls around them. 
“You know,” at the sound of his voice her eyes meet his and he doesn’t know how to describe the feelings that wash over him. He wishes that she would never look away. “Your thighs are great, you shouldn’t change them.” 
Candles light up around her face and she smiles, biting her lip like she always does when she gets shy, “Really?”
“Yeah.” 
“Great?” 
He nods and then teases so she won’t hear how serious he is about this, “And I’m not just saying it as your friend either.” 
Maybe if they were both well-rested, they could have heard what he’d written in between his lines. They’re not and his insinuation flies over both of their heads. 
A giggle bubbles up in her throat and the room grows brighter, even with the sunrise still a few hours away. “You think about my thighs a lot, Javi?” 
He sends it right back, “You think about my nose a lot?” 
Her lips pout down and she starts to frown at him playfully, “No fair.” 
“You think about kissing my nose just as much?” 
The amusement falls from her face, and he becomes scared that he’s forgotten how to read her in just four months. They always knew when to push and when to stop, when to be pulled and when to pull. A delicate tug-of-war balance that could only be achieved over years of spending any possible moment they could together. 
There’s nothing that scares Javier more than forgetting how to pick up on her cues. He thinks that if it ever did happen, he’d stop living. 
Life only had meaning when he knew that she picked at her cuticles when she was anxious, that she leaned onto her right shoulder when she was bored and her left shoulder when she was uncomfortable, and that chamomile tea helps her calm down and that she prefers witty one-liners to elaborate jokes that take years to set up and usually end up being a let-down anyways. 
He murmurs her name, hoping that he hasn’t ruined his summer with her with just one question, “I-” 
Her lips press lightly to the blunt tip of his nose. It’s as soft as the breath of a baby, fleeting as the flap of a butterfly’s wings, and shorter than a heartbeat. For Javier it feels like being born anew. The ever-present noise in his head goes silent. All he can hear now is the rhythmic rise and fall of her breaths. His meaning is only given to him by her face in front of him. 
Awkwardly, like the rusty joints of a car, Javier leans towards her, so close to her that the edges of her face are blurry. 
In the same manner as her, he presses an idea of a kiss onto her mouth and pulls back just as quickly, if not faster. 
His nose and his mouth are tingling. 
She’s looking at him in a way he’s never seen before. The rush of emotions that it triggers inside him leads to him kissing her again, long enough that they can both understand what he did the first time, long enough for him to feel how soft her lips are. 
She lets out a little sound and Javier comes to himself again. His ears pop and his world grows from just her back to his room around him and the gravity of his actions fall down on him like a boulder. 
In a jerky movement he pulls away, his heart hammering against his chest, eyes widening. 
Images start to flash across his mind. 
He sees her frowning and yelling at him, changing back into her clothes and going back to her house. His stomach drops as he thinks of her leaving his bed eternally, and of the way her smell will fade from his sheets in a couple week’s time. He thinks of what he’s going to do with the rest of his summer and what’s going to happen at the end of it when he won’t be the one driving her to the bus stop and then watching her bus drive away until he can’t see it on the horizon. 
He should look away now, so as to make the leaving part easier, but instead he’s selfishly drinking up the last few moments he has with her, before he starts mourning their friendship. 
Instead of moving away like he’d been expecting, she inches forward, presses her palms to the sides of his face and runs her thumbs under the tender skin of his eyes. “Come back to me, Javi.” 
He doesn’t know how. 
“Baby,” her eyes are searching his face and he’s back to her. He’s back in her arms and in his bed. His heart is still pounding but he only knows himself in relation to her so it doesn’t matter. 
This time, when he kisses her, she’s already there halfway. Her hands are in his hair and though they’ve been there a thousand times before, it feels new to him. His body sings for her skin against his but he can’t bring himself to do it. His hands remain on her waist, on top of his shirt. 
“Did you miss me?” she’s out of breath with her forehead pressed against his. Her breaths are fanning out across his face like the waves of the ocean.
It takes a moment for his mind to straighten itself out, for him to realise what she’s asking of him. 
Slowly, he sits up, with her in his arms and his lips against hers. He gives butterflies after hummingbirds of kisses to her and she accepts each one as if they were the first. His stomach twists into itself and untwists. He feels as if his heart has just started to beat after twenty long years. 
She’s leaning against his arms and looking up at him breathlessly, her chest labouring to catch her breath. 
Javier wants to reply but he also wants to kiss her again and he does. Meandering and lazy as he pushes his tongue into her mouth. She makes no move to rush him, thumbs running across his cheeks, one hand reaching under the collar of his shirt and resting at the place his neck meets his shoulder. 
He pulls away and closes his eyes for a brief moment and then opens them again out of fear that she’ll disappear. 
“Yeah, I missed you,” he’s breathing harshly as he says her name. The words tumble out before he has a chance to think about them, “All I did was miss you.” 
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Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider leaving feedback, it means the world to me. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for the next part.
Masterlist here.
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randoms-fandoms · 10 months
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Hello! I was wondering if you could perhaps write a calamity trio x reader? More specifically, what would happen if all of the girls had a crush on the same person?
Omg yes this is such a cute idea :0 (sorry the reader won’t really be the focus 😅 it’s an Anne pov, and Marcy and Sash are still very much in it)
Warnings: none
Relationships: they have a crush on you👀
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Anne, Sasha, and Marcy had grown more after returning from Amphibia— they had at least another year until Marcy had to move, as her disappearance had prompted her parents to put their plans on hold for a few months, meaning she could stay in California the time being— but even though the three of them were no longer geographically torn apart, conflicting schedules meant that they hardly had time to spend together.
However, now that the trio had begun the new school year, life had been going pretty well. The pestering questions from other students and even teachers were annoying, but easy to get used to. Things felt normal again.
Anne loved her friends a lot, but she also wanted to expand her circle a bit. That was kind of hard when everyone knew her as the superhero girl who defended the city from robots last summer, but her adventures in Amphibia had given her nothing if not tenacity.
Finally, after a month or so of having no one to hang out with during school, she met someone new. Someone who hadn’t seen her destroy a fleet of robots on live television over the summer.
Anne only had two classes with you, and you had separate lunch periods, but that was perfectly fine. You had sat together in class every day since you first started school there, and Anne had quickly made a habit of texting you often. Photos of Domino, memes, random thoughts— she found every excuse to text you. She even took a few cute selfies with you! Overall, your fast friendship was wonderful.
Weeks into this new friendship, however, Anne was beginning to realize something. Her feelings for you were… changing. She didn’t used to struggle with eye contact when you complimented her. She had never before turned into a blushing mess just from a hug. Suddenly, your every action had her overthinking.
“Anne? Are you listening?” An amused voice broke through her thoughts.
Anne looked up to see you staring at her, confused. “Oh, haha— sorry I was just zoning out.” Anne said, face burning. “What did you say?”
“I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the library after school to work on our group project.” You asked.
“Yeah totally!” Anne answered quickly. This is the first time they’ve invited me to hang out outside of school!
“Wait— I mean, I’d love to… but I have plans already. Sorry.” Anne said, frowning. She had forgotten that she and her other two friends were going to be hanging out all afternoon, and even sleeping over at Marcy’s house.
“That’s alright. how about Sunday? It’s due on Monday, you know.” You said with a little laugh.
Anne groaned. “I know, sorry. That sounds good, you can come to my place.”
“I’ll text you, okay?” You smiled as you stood up to put away your notebook and pencil. Anne hid her face; you thought it was funny, but really she was hiding how your sweet smile always made her blush.
Anne needed advice.
Marcy and Sasha were engrossed in conversation (something about a manga they both read; Anne didn’t quite know), but Anne was distracted. She sat on Marcy’s bed, scrolling through her album of selfies with you.
“Anyway, I’m going to get some snacks and change into my pajamas. You guys get comfy too!” Marcy said, plugging her phone into the charger by her bedside table.
Anne waited for Marcy to close the door before she unzipped her backpack and pulled out her overnight stuff.
“So how are you doing? It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.” Sasha made conversation while she walked into the adjoining bathroom to change.
Anne sighed. “Nothing bad,” she started, quickly pulling on her pajamas. It was just a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt, nothing like Sasha’s cute matching sweatsuit. Anne wondered if you would think she looked cute if she dressed up. “…I’m just a little… I don’t know. I feel kind of weird.”
“Well what’s up, girl? Having bad dreams again?” Sasha re-entered the room, taking out her ponytail, and lie down on Marcy’s queen sized bed.
Anne smiled softly to herself, getting lost in thought for a moment. She loved how Sasha was always so worried about her. Back when they had just barely gotten home from Amphibia, Sasha would stay up on the phone with Anne all night while she cried. Sometimes she was missing the Plantars, sometimes she was convinced one of Andrias’s robots was after her again, sometimes she was having a panic attack thinking about her own inevitable death— no matter how long it took, Sasha was always there.
“Anne?”
“No, I’m fine.” Anne said, a little embarrassed. She sat back against the headboard. “Just normal teenager things.”
“Great,” Sasha said, smiling and closing her eyes. “Can’t get enough of that. Lay it on me.” She said, getting comfy.
Anne laughed. Marcy walked back in the room, making her jump. Her heart was already in her throat, beating hard from the nerves of talking about her feelings (however roundabout).
“Hey guys! Sorry it took me a minute, I accidentally spilled the first bowl of chips.” Marcy said, shrugging. Sasha stood up and took a bag of candy from her arms, which were full of snack food.
“I’m surprised you didn’t drop more, with how much you’re carrying.” She replied, kicking a pillow out of the way so she could sit down on the plush carpet.
Marcy laughed. “Anyway, what are you guys talking about?” She said, relaxing on the beanbag chair next to the outlet where her phone was charging. She put the arm full of snacks on the ground between her and Sasha.
Sasha looked at Anne, waiting for her to answer.
“Oh, haha, I just wanted some advice.” She blushed. “I think I might… have a crush on someone.” She looked away, laughing awkwardly while Sasha and Marcy freaked out.
“Oh my god, that’s great!” Sasha smiled widely.
“Are you gonna ask them out?” Marcy asked, gasping. “You have to tell us everything!”
Anne grinned self consciously, thinking about you. Asking you out. “Well, we met at school, and I really like them…”
“Is it someone we know?” Sasha asked teasingly.
Anne shrugged. With how new they are to the school, what are the odds that they’ve met my two only friends? “Maybe. Anyway, we’ve been friends for a while, and suddenly I just can’t think straight when I’m around them… I’m worried that if I don’t say something and get it off my chest, they’ll notice, and— I don’t know, it would just be embarrassing.” Anne ranted.
Sasha nodded seriously. “Classic story. Not to worry, though, Marce and I have tons of experience with crushes.”
Marcy laughed nervously. “Sasha, you said you wouldn’t tell!” She lightly punched Sasha, who ignored her.
“Anyway, who is it?” The blonde asked. She took a handful of chips and ate them, casually relaxing against the pillows on the floor.
Anne, still sitting on the bed, leaned down to whisper in Sasha’s ear. She was pretty confident that she wouldn’t even recognize your name, but the other girl gasped as soon as she said it.
“No. Freaking. Way. Marcy you would not believe this— Anne likes the same person you do!”
Anne’s heart dropped. “What?” She distantly registered that Marcy said the exact same thing at the exact same time. She would have laughed if she didn’t feel so… weird.
“We eat lunch together like every day.” Sasha explained to Anne. “Marcy has a huge crush on them.”
“You do too!” Marcy accused, embarrassed, making Sasha blush.
“Whatever, at least I can act normal about it!” Sasha argued.
Anne felt an unfamiliar twist in her stomach. Jealousy. They hang out every day? She frowned. She wondered if Sasha was as confident and flirty with you as she was with her sometimes.
“So we all like the same person?” Marcy clarified, after a moment of tense silence. “I didn’t really think they would be your type,” she said to Anne.
“I didn’t even know I had a type!” Anne said, a little exasperated. She had never felt so strongly about a crush before. She thought about your laugh, how you teased her sometimes, how she had picked out a nickname for her…
Sasha for once didn’t really have any advice. “Well who do they like?”
Marcy shrugged. “They always avoid the question. I’ve tried asking.”
Anne was shocked. “Really? You guys talk about that stuff?”
Sasha giggled. “Yeah, some of us are better at hiding our feelings.“
Anne rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She paused for a moment. “…Are you guys going to ask them out?”
Sasha shrugged. “Maybe. Should I?”
Anne thought about that. Now that the initial surprise had worn off, she found that she wasn’t upset that Marcy and Sasha liked you. She wondered if you would be interested in dating all of them. The trio had shared everything with each other ever since they had first become friends… come to think of it, Anne found that she liked the idea of all of them dating you.
“I think we all should.” Marcy said, smiling. “How should we do it?”
“Let’s FaceTime them,” Sasha suggested. “I want to see how they react.”
Anne shook her head. She knew she was far too shy and awkward about the whole situation for that to end well. “How about just texting? We could create a groupchat.”
The other girls nodded. “Alright, sounds good!”
Marcy inviter you, her, and Sasha to join a groupchat. Anne snorted a laugh when Marcy renamed the chat to an emoji: 🫣
“Who wants to go first?” Asked Sasha, feeling nervous.
Anne just wanted to get it over with, wanted to know what you thought. “I will.” She quickly typed out a simple message and sent it.
You replied quickly, much to Anne’s relief.
I like you.
Me?
Why are you saying it in a gc?
Worrying that this was too weird, that you hated her now, Anne was already typing her apology when Sasha and Marcy replied.
Because I do too :D
Me too
Marcy squealed, dropping her phone and hiding her face. “Ah, this is crazy!”
Sasha laughed. Anne knew she was trying to play it cool, but secretly cared just as much. Anne herself felt sick to her stomach from nerves. Her heart nearly stopped when the notification that you replied came in.
Do you all wanna go on a date tmrw? We can talk abt it over lunch
I didn’t know u were friends :)
Anne sighed in relief, laughing. Friends is an understatement. She grinned, excited, hearing Marcy and Sasha celebrating around her. Her heart swelled with joy, glad that her two best friends would be there with her in this new relationship.
She was so caught up in her own emotions that she didn’t notice Sasha taking a selfie of the room, including all three of the girls in it. It popped up in the groupchat.
Anne clicked on the picture, seeing Sasha in the corner of the screen, Marcy waving with one hand and holding her phone in the other, and herself distracted and staring at her screen. Her face was absolutely glowing with happiness, cheeks darkened with a blush, staring fondly at your messages.
“Sash, that’s such an embarrassing picture of me!” Anne looked up, not really upset.
Sasha stuck her tongue out. “It’s cute. I bet our new lover thinks so too.” She said teasingly. Anne looked down at her phone again, still smiling.
Marcy came in for a hug. “First date tomorrow, Anne! Are you excited?”
Anne laughed, hugging Marcy back. “Heck yeah!”
“We should do a spa night!” Sasha said, standing up. “Marcy, do you still have those face masks I got for you? We’ll be absolutely glowing tomorrow.” She posed, making Anne and Marcy laugh.
“Of course!” Marcy replied excitedly. “I even have some nail polish; our signature colors!”
Anne couldn’t stop smiling as she followed Marcy and Sasha into the bathroom. She felt great. Despite things changing for her after she returned from Amphibia, the love she shared with her friends stayed the same. And now, they could all open their hearts up more, expanding that love, growing exponentially closer.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading about these dorks crushing on you :P have a nice day!
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kirkycurls · 10 months
Text
You Jump, I Jump, Jack
When a gorgeous metalhead and his band move into town, your dreary summer pouring coffees is turned on its head—for the better.
*Set in some nondescript American town *Story Kirk is 88/89!Kirk (26/27) and MC is 24 *Not necessarily historically accurate band-wise and I'm not American so bear with me *5 chapters *Fairly sfw but theme of alcoholism *Happy ending!
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Chapter One
CWs for this chapter: None.
It had been raining for weeks in your small town: industrial bins floating down the street; kids walking to school with silt up to their knees—the kind of June weather nobody saw coming but now nobody could stop talking about.
You didn’t mind it so much. Tucked away behind the counter of Yvette’s pouring coffees all day for mostly middle-aged men reading newspapers, you could stay dry and keep tabs on what was going on outside through the little chocolate box window out front. Spending your weekdays here since graduating college wasn’t what you’d expected, but since your parents had moved even further upstate you’d wanted to feel more financially secure, single as you were.
It was past 11 on Tuesday morning and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The cafe was empty save for an older couple playing Yvette’s ancient game of mini chess by the radiator and her son Steve wiping down the table by the door. 
“Ste”, you managed, half-focused on the van that had just pulled up at the old Sunday school across the street. “Ste”, you tried again, louder this time.
“What?”, he asked, turning around. “I’m mid-wipe here, sweet. You can’t disrupt the magic man mid-wipe.” 
You laughed, “Spray’s topped up”. 
Gesturing at the bottle of cleaner you’d just refilled, you rolled your eyes with a smile as he approached the counter with a look of mock offence.
Still smiling to yourself, your eyes wandered past him to the dark-haired guy that had just jumped out of the van, his face screwed up in disgust as he looked down at the muddy water lapping round his ankles. Another guy appeared behind him and practically fell out of the vehicle laughing, only to get his jeans soaked to the knee as he tripped on a hidden drainage cover. 
Boys, you thought. 
The dark-haired guy said something to his amused friend and looked around, taking in the street and the flood, eyes roaming disinterestedly until they landed on the coffee shop with the faded name of the owner above the door, and, through the small front window… you.
You swallowed. Feeling a presence to your right, you blinked and turned to see Steve watching you with an indiscernible look on his face. 
“Earth to the dreamer”, he mocked, switching to his usual grinning state, pumping his eyebrows like a five-year-old with a secret. “Fancy a heavy metal concert?”
“What?”, you huffed with a laugh. 
“Those guys are setting up shop in there”, he said, pointing towards the steady stream of instruments and various studio pieces a taller third guy was now hauling out the back of the van. “Metallica. Heard of ‘em?”
You shook your head.
“Seems they’ve been getting more shows recently so they wanna set up a permanent residence somewhere local—a sort of HQ.”
That broke you out of your reverie. 
“Um, and you know this how?”, you scoffed. Steve wasn’t exactly the type to be up to date with the town gossip. He could usually be found on his girlfriend’s couch with his hand down his pants and a baseball game on the TV when he wasn’t on shift. He wasn’t stupid and he definitely wasn’t a bad guy, but by your standards, he was beyond help.
Before he could answer, a sudden gust of warm air blew into the cafe, the bell above the door protesting loudly. The napkins you’d tidied an hour before were whipped into a flurry. 
With a sigh, you knelt down to retrieve the stray few floating to the ground at your feet, hearing the approach of heavy, squelching boots. 
“Sorry…didn’t mean to ruin your good work”, a boyish male voice chuckled from above you. Returning to your feet, brow furrowed in mild exasperation, you locked eyes with the culprit. 
Grinning at you with a set of perfectly imperfect teeth, shining chocolate-brown eyes, and a mane of dark, glossy curls, the first guy from the van stood leaning against the counter, one hand outstretched with the offer of returning the collected napkins to their tray.
Damn. White noise fizzed inside your head as you unsuccessfully attempted a reply. He’s cute.
Steve sniggered behind you. 
“This is Kirk”, he laughed. 
You turned, a look of mild confusion on your face. 
“Hammett”, the guy from the van added, dropping his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Kirk’s in Metallica”, Steve continued, still amused by your temporary muteness. 
“Lead guitar, right?” 
Kirk smiled and nodded. 
“He was in here last week with his friend James.”
“Oh right, hi…”, you managed, suddenly self-conscious.
You turned to the counter, smoothing the fallen napkins back into formation. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Kirk’s gaze lingering on your face. 
“Yeah, it’s me, James, Jason, and Lars”, he said, attention back on Steve.
You breathed an internal sigh of relief for being momentarily unobserved. 
Another few seconds of awkward napkin twiddling elapsed until you realised you hadn’t said anything and both Kirk and Steve were expecting you to speak…
Accepting that the obsessively flat paper couldn’t get any flatter, you took a breath; fixing your best customer service smile before diving into a string of questions…
First for Steve: What day did they visit the cafe last week? Did you make them lunch? Did you tell him about me?
And then Kirk: What’s the situation with redecorating the Sunday-school-turned-heavy-metal-headquarters? Don’t you think it’s funny that it’ll go from a religious building to a house of vice? Why are you so gorgeous…?
In the process, you learned that Kirk and James (the tall, muscular one you’d seen unloading gear) had headed over for a takeout order last Friday whilst finalising the rent on the new place. It was particularly busy that day—Fridays always were—and you didn’t remember seeing them. Kirk explained how the daughter of the now deceased man who’d owned the school was practically begging them to take it off her hands, so the band had bought it for next to nothing. Kirk and James had taken most of the old furnishings to the dump already; all that really needed taking care of now was repainting the place and positioning their stuff. 
While the three of you talked, a large party of customers entered the cafe; each now in various states of shaking out umbrellas and settling down to browse the lunchtime menu. You knew the conversation would have to end soon, as the 12 o’clock rush could get pretty hairy.
Before you had a chance to pipe up, Steve chimed in. 
“Oh we can help out with a few licks of paint easy”, he said to no-one in particular, straightening up and taking in the still increasing crowd. You could hear the son-of-the-manager gears clicking in his head, greasing up in preparation to make a few extra tips.
His hand landed on your shoulder.
“Why don’t you take tomorrow off and help the guys. Mom’s gonna be around anyway; I’m sure she’ll understand and we both know you’re artistic”, he winked, referencing the time he’d caught you making sickeningly girly latte art when you were supposed to be servicing the coffee machine. 
Your eyes flew to Kirk who was looking more than pleased with the idea.
“Would you?” 
You hesitated, then nodded; a little bewildered and not sure how you felt about being roped in on your own.
“That’d be awesome, thanks.” He leant over and gave a light bump to your arm. 
You tried to suppress a smile. Butterflies.
“Great”, Steve grinned.
“I’ll let you both figure out the details. But right now could you deal with that delivery out back? I forgot to sort it earlier.” You rolled your eyes. 
“Hey, relax. I’ll deal with this crowd so just take your time. Nice to see you again, Kirk.”
A nod from Kirk. “Yeah you too, man.”
Left alone, Kirk turned to you; a cheeky smile dancing on his lips as he rapped the counter and said, “So…”.
You let out a light laugh. “What?”
“Need any help?” 
“Oh, no…you don’t have to to do that”, you replied, making your way behind the counter to grab some supplies but secretly hoping he’d push the point.
“Ah it’s no bother, trust me”, Kirk continued, following you halfway. "There’ll be nothing going on over there today except Lars arguing with James about the feng shui and me and Jase trying to mediate.”
You laughed, feeling some of the tension melting from your body.
He was nice.
“Nah, I’m just kidding; I don’t think either of them know what feng shui is.”
That earned a belly laugh from you. 
You knelt down to the cupboard under the sink to locate a pen, calculator and packing knife; letting your hair cover your face to hide your shyness after letting out such an indiscrete sound. 
“So can I?” Kirk asked. “Help?”
Finding what you needed, you straightened, finding Kirk firmly planted a few feet in-front of you with no sign of backing down.
“Uh yeah, sure…why not. I’ll make us some coffee”, you smiled. “It’s just through that door and right ahead—you’ll find it”, you said, watching as he wandered off in the direction you’d given.
“Awesome”, he fired back, “can’t wait”.
You watched him leave, hands reaching up playfully to hit the door frame as he went. 
You smiled to yourself. This was definitely not how you’d imagined your day playing out: meeting a cute metalhead, making plans to help paint his band’s new headquarters and now pouring black coffee into takeout cups so the pair of you could sort a delivery together? No, this was not what you were picturing for this so-far dismal summer. 
Securing the lids to the drinks, you pocketed the stock supplies in your apron and headed out back, coffee for two in hand.
Parting Yvette’s handmade beaded curtain with your right shoulder, the wind chime over your head sang as you emerged from the back porch, crossing the few steps to the centre of the stock area and setting the cups on one of the two piles of delivery boxes filling the compact space. The stock area wasn’t much; in fact it was literally just Yvette’s garden, as she lived upstairs—a quaint, currently gazebo-roofed yard with stone-walled raised flower beds set around the perimeter.
Kirk was inspecting some gnarly looking plants in the far corner when you arrived, turning as you placed the coffee down to make a joke about The Day of the Triffids. It was true Yvette hadn’t given as much care to the flora and fauna out here as she had to the cafe, which was her pride and joy. She’d been out of town a lot recently on various craft retreats and managerial workshops, so the place needed a little TLC. 
Kirk picked up the coffee nearest him, cheersing it with the air in thanks before taking a sip and carefully placing it back. 
“So what’s first?” He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. 
You removed the packing knife from your apron and set it next to your own cup, then walked over to the other pile of boxes, hands on your hips as you considered the best way to start.
“I need to check the stock matches what’s listed on the invoices, so if you could maybe help stack them according to the package number that’d really help.”
“As you wish”, Kirk answered, shucking off his jacket and discarding it on the wall.
Five minutes or so passed as you stood back near the doorway watching Kirk shift the boxes. He was chatting away about his bandmates, giving you a colourful mental image of their individual personalities: James, the lead singer and a pretty wild partier; Lars, the Danish drummer, always with a cocky word to try and trip you up; and Jason, badass bassist who was all about working hard for the fans. 
You agreed to meet up outside their new place around nine the next morning, aware that you’d only been given one day off work thus far and impatient to see Kirk in his natural habitat. 
As you listened, offering him various strategic “mmm”s and “oh right”s, your eyes wandered not so innocently along his sweat-dampened neck and the straining muscles in his arms, down to the way his strong hands gripped the underside of the boxes… You noted how gently he set them down, heavy as they were. 
“What do you think then?” 
“Huh?” You snapped to as you realised Kirk had asked you a question, a slightly self-conscious look in his eye as if nervous for your response.  
You mentally traced back to what he’d been talking about while you were…gawping…and recalled him inviting you to pizza and beer that evening to meet the guys before everyone got to work tomorrow.
“Oh, yeah.” You exhaled a laugh. “Yeah of course, I’d love to.”
He looked relieved, and a bit excited, you thought.
“Ah great, I knew you’d be up for it”, he replied, back to his usual self. “I can show you around and you can finally tell me some more about you”, he joked, flicking some of the debris from the boxes at you. 
You both laughed, acknowledging that you hadn’t exactly been a chatty Cathy since he’d arrived. 
It was at that point you decided you actually liked this guy. He was relaxing to be around; interesting, kind, very attractive; and there was something in his eyes that made you feel a sense of kinship. He didn’t step on your toes but he didn’t shy away from trying to get closer either. 
Kirk took a step back to admire his handiwork. Very neat.
“That’ll do thanks, I can take it from here”, you smiled, peeling yourself away from the wall. 
“You sure?” He answered. 
“Yeah, honestly. This next bit’s pretty boring”, you chuckled. “Go and sit down—you’ve earned it.”
He looked relieved as he made his way back to his original spot, flinging himself down on his back on the wall with one hand gently pulling at a spray of pink carnations and the other hanging freely.
You turned back to the boxes with a smile, taking the calculator and pen from your apron pocket to start checking the invoices.
A minute or so of pleasant quiet fell as the conversation petered off. You busied yourself with the calculator, almost forgetting Kirk’s presence as you got into the details of the invoices taped to the side of each package.
Then, “I saw you last week you know.” 
You froze momentarily, pen between your teeth, glad you had your back to him so he wouldn’t see the slight blush tinging your cheekbones. It made you uncomfortable to know someone had perceived you without your noticing—especially him, with his big brown eyes and gorgeous curly hair you’d imagined running your fingers through more than a few times since your initial conversation inside.
“Is that okay?”, he interrupted the silence.
You turned around, pen dropping into your hand. 
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” 
He didn’t respond. He’d changed positions since before; now leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees and fingers steepled, observing you with the ghost of a smile and the kindest eyes. You felt your heart swell and then catch as you became aware of the seconds ticking by. 
God, this guy, you thought. 
No-one had had this kind of effect on you since…well, ever. No past boyfriend had looked at you like he was looking right now. 
Move, then. Don’t just stand here like an idiot.
You stretched forward to grab the packing knife from the first pile of boxes, desperate to break the awkwardness that had descended out of nowhere, but as soon as you reached for the handle, the safety clicked, shooting the blade into the still-full takeout cups and landing warm coffee all over Kirk’s thighs. “Shxt!”, you cried, hands flying to your mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
Kirk jumped up, visibly stunned but recovering quickly. Meanwhile, you were garbling out a string of profuse “Sorry”s and standing fixed to the spot, completely unable to move. 
“Hey, hey…it’s fine, relax”, Kirk assured you. You pulled your hands from your eyes to see him laughing, clearly unbothered. 
“I’ve got dirt up to my knees from the damn flood out front; these jeans obviously weren’t meant for me.” 
Your panic eased as you realised he wasn’t mad. You laughed awkwardly, tucking your arms around yourself in an attempt to calm down. Without a word, Kirk jogged past you through the beaded curtain.
Crap, is that really how that’s gonna end? 
You needn’t have worried. A few seconds later he returned with a wad of napkins and bent down to mop up the spillage. 
“If you knew how many times I’ve had to clean up puke from the floor in my house after a night with the guys, you wouldn’t be so worried”, he winked. 
You exhaled with a smile, hitching your skirt up a little to kneel down and help him. 
If you hadn’t both been busy sharing sweet glances and bumping arms as you cleaned up your first drinks together, you would have noticed that the rain had stopped completely and the sun come out from behind the clouds for the first time in weeks. 
 .✵.
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bbycowb0y · 2 years
Note
i’m not sure if you’re taking requests, but incase you are…i would like to request a max mayfield x reader!
preferably an angsty one? maybe the reader has to stay away from max because they’ve convinced themselves she’s “better” off with lucas.
something of the sort, i’m pretty sure your writing will do great justice. tysm, love your fics ❣️…
yes i am taking requests! ty for the kind words omg🫶🫶💐💐
warnings: heavyyyy angst, a lil ooc max, not proof read lmfao
summary: fem!reader has been avoiding max for weeks because she’s jealous of lucas, and has been supressing her feelings for max for years, until one day they have a confrontation and everything comes out.
⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ 
“Why are you being like this?” Max cries, shaking with anger and confusion.
You had been avoiding Max for weeks now, telling your mother to say you were busy whenever she called, never speaking to her when you and the party hung out, and taking different routes when walking to your classes at school to steer clear of her. It didn’t take long for her to catch on, she was very observant, and the guilt of whatever she suspected she had done had been eating her alive. She finally snapped when she cornered you on your way to fifth period, and dragged you into a janitor’s closet so you could admit why you had been acting this way.
Now, she was gripping onto your shoulders and making deep eye contact with you, begging you to say something, anything.
“I don’t know what you mean.” you look down at your sneakers, playing dumb.
Max rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Cut the bullshit. You’ve been blatantly ignoring me for weeks now. What the hell is going on with you? What did I do to make you hate me so much?”
You breathe in deeply, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. “I don’t hate you, Max. I could never hate you. I hate him. Lucas.” You raise your gaze to meet her stare, studying her expression as she takes in what you said.
Max furrows her eyebrows, cheeks tinted slightly pink. “Why do you hate Lucas?” Her light blue eyes were filled with confusion.
“Because…for years, ever since you guys have been going out, I feel like I’ve always had to compete with him for you. And you’ve always chosen him. Before you even liked him, all you wanted to do was spend time with me. And now, it’s like you’ve totally forgotten about that summer. You know what I’m talking about, Max.” Your voice wavers slightly as you choke out the words you’ve been holding in for so long.
Max’s face falls, and she immediately pulls her hands off of you.
“Thats what this is about? One summer a few years ago where we…we had a little fun together? You know it’s not like that anymore; you know I’m not like that, right?”
Your expression falters, but you immediately fire back.
“Well I’m sorry for thinking that maybe us kissing was something? Or maybe you’ve just forgotten because everything you do now revolves around your boyfriend. But I guess I was right. You’re better off with Lucas.”
Then you open the door to the closet harshly, swiftly leaving behind a stunned and upset Max, and slamming it behind you, not even pausing to wait for her reaction.
⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺  I feel like this was way too angsty I’m sorry😭😭
I’ll make a pt 2 if enough ppl want it (with a good ending i swear!)
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intrstellarhearts · 1 year
Text
things in the common room at welton that just make sense. (dead poets society)
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fandom: dead poets society
type of writing: headcanons / scenario
word count: 698
request: yes / no  
characters: todd anderson, neil perry, charlie dalton, richard cameron, stephen meeks, gerard pitts, knox overstreet
a/n: requests are open!! :)
dps taglist: @hotshot624
(message me or send an ask if you'd like to be included in the dps taglist!)
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an open window. nolan has instructed the boys time and time again to close it when they leave, and yet it always ends up open. it lets a cool breeze in during the first few weeks of the school year, when the heat is insufferable. one year, charlie opened it during a snowstorm. his face was immediately frozen, and he turned around slowly to the laughter of his friends, face covered in powdery flakes that melted just as quickly as they landed on him.
several mugs full of pencils. though they always start the year full with sharp utensils, it’s nearly guaranteed that two weeks in nearly every single one is broken, dull, or just gone. the boys have no idea that keating often re-sharpens the pencils for them after they’ve gone to bed.
a communal calendar. it’s small, and often tucked in a bookshelf so it won’t get into the wrong hands. there are pictures of the city on every page. todd’s brother gave it to him. every person on their floor wrote down their birthday, and it’s checked nearly every day. the days when spring, winter, and summer break begin are marked with bold, red letters that read “FREEDOM”.
a wall of pictures, in the nook by the window. they’ve been putting them up for so long that many of the faces are unrecognizable. the poets like to play a game where they try to figure out who the person is, where they’re from, who they are now. they’re usually wrong, but once, they were right.
a toolbox. this is mostly for meeks & pitts & their lovely little inventions. i like to think one of pitts’ brothers or something told him to bring a toolbox “just in case”, and though he thought it was stupid at the time, the wrenches and screwdrivers and things that are in there allow him to make things that he never thought were possible.
a globe, the really nice kind that’s almost as tall as your waist and spins every which way. they’re meant to use it for geography assignments. sometimes todd and neil play a game where they’ll spin it as fast as they can, close their eyes, and stop it. they have to explain everything they know (or make up) about the place where their finger lands, and why the other simply HAS to go there.
one single strand of black hair. i know this sounds dumb. BUT if dps takes place in 1959 then i can make this work. charlie came in after a break with something in his hands. and cameron was DYING to know what is was because he wouldn’t tell him. turns out it was this one piece of hair. and so he was like “dalton what the hell is that i don’t even know what to say”. charlie insists it’s a piece of elvis’ hair. but he won’t say how he got it, where he got it, or give any proof whatsoever. despite that, it lives in infamy right next to the window. (until a strong breeze causes it to be lost, in which case charlie dalton will need a brief grieving period and the creation of a memorial.)
ok back to more normal stuff. pressed flowers and leaves. i’d like to think that this is something that todd just does, like he’ll just pick up flowers he likes and put them in heavy books like it’s nothing. and so when the other poets saw him do it for the first time, they were intrigued. he taught them all how to do it, and now there’s a shoebox nearly overflowing with the prettiest flowers and leaves you’ll ever see.
a lamp that’s most definitely a fire hazard. every time it turns on it fizzles and pops… it’s hum is nearly deafening. it’s always entertaining to see someone’s reaction to it the first time they see it. but the sound of the lamp seemingly self-destructing is strangely soothing -- to those who have been at welton for a long time, they see themselves in it. for though you’d think it would have exploded by now, it’s still standing, flickering and providing light despite all it’s been through.
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stregoniconiconii · 2 years
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I was thinking about the head canon of Steve being Italian, through his mom because Harrington is like super Irish, and I have some ideas
first off, I don’t think Steve can speak Italian super fluently. I think his mom was first generation and she worked really hard to sound American and so she didn’t really speak it at home. Steve only heard Italian when his mom was on a long distance phone call with her family back home or when she got homesick and listened to an Italian language radio station. Steve loved hanging out with his mom though, and he loved listening in on her conversations because I know my boy is a little gossip, so he picked up on understanding the language fairly well, but never really got the hang of speaking it
until, when he was like 10 years old and they went to Italy for the summer. his nonna, who he had literally only talked to on the phone, was dying and she wanted her daughter to come back home. she and Steve go together, his dad comes for a couple weeks but then has to go back to work, and they’re there for months, fully immersed. he even spends a month at school with his cousins, who he gets along with pretty well. that’s not to say it was easy at first, definitely not
Steve probably spent the first few weeks there quiet as a mouse just listening to everyone speak. everyone thought he was just a dumb American, chastising his mother for not teaching him their language, teasing him because they thought he couldn’t understand. but they all get surprised when he speaks up when one of his aunts is going in on his mom and he calls her out in actually pretty good Italian. after that, he gets included more, his cousins discover that he’s actually pretty funny besides being American. he still gets teased because his accent needs some serious work, but by the time his Nonna dies and his dad is flying down for the funeral and to take them back to America, he feels pretty damn Italian
he half hopes that he and his mom could stay here, where he has family he actually gets a long with, but his dad’s kinda mad at how native they’ve gone while he’s been gone. now he’s the odd one out and he doesn’t like it. he brings them back to hawkins and issues an Italian ban because he doesn't like not knowing what his wife and son are talking about. and then news about the affair breaks out
see, while Steve and his mom were in Italy, hanging out with family, looking after a sick old lady, and preparing for a funeral, mr harrington was getting dirty with his secretary. so now his mom is paranoid that it will happen again if he gets out of her sights so she ends up going with him on a bunch of business trips. leaving poor Steve alone. and without the practice Steve’s Italian skills go downhill until high school and he starts taking a second language
not many people choose to take Italian, more going for French or Spanish, so it’s a small class. he thought it would be easy for him, since he already knew Italian even if he was out of practice, but this wasn’t the regional Italian his mom and her family spoke, this was The Official Italian Language. so it’s not as easy as he thought it would be but he actually manages to pick it up pretty quickly. yes, Italian is one of his best classes. yes, his accent is still pretty bad
anyway I don't think Steve keeps it a secret that he’s actually pretty good at Italian but not many people know. most of the kids in hawkins are barely passing Spanish or French, the few that are good at languages don’t think of him as someone good at languages so they don’t bother him. it’s not until robin claims she can speak Italian fluently that it even comes up
basically I think Steve and robin gossip in Italian bc they love that only they know what they’re saying. Steve teaches her some of the regional dialect he grew up on, she goes holy shit this means that we can hit up Sicily on our Europe trip and Steve’s very happy about that (because yay best friends trip and also he can visit his family again!)
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rayslittlekitten · 2 years
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Not All Leaves Turn in Autumn
“You Got This” Masterlist
A/N: So this week's @writer-wednesday prompt inspired something. It's been a while since I've visited this universe. This would take place before "Carry Me Home" but a year after Jax and reader charcter breaks up and he's with Tara. I know I still haven't written what happened between them and I've just been filling in different parts of the story in pieces. One day, all the pieces will be there (hopefully!) Also, this isn't beta'd.
Rating: T
Word Count: ~1500
Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller & Teenager F! Reader/OC; OC (Johnny) x Teenager F! Reader/OC (Opie's sister)
Plot: Things don't turn out as expected when you introduce your new boyfriend to your friends and family.
Contains: marijuana use, kissing, jealousy, assault, cursing, angst
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Your junior year just started not too long ago and fall season approached quickly. The weather’s gotten cooler, the leaves are starting to turn and Halloween decorations are everywhere. What you enjoy the most about this season are all the fun activities that come with it: the hayrides, the haunted houses, pumpkin picking and so much more festivities. Aside from the MC being a big contributor, families gather together and people of all ages are just having a good wholesome time. Traditionally it’s been you, Jax, Opie and other friends smoking weed before going into the haunted house getting the crap scared out of yourselves to getting lost in corn mazes.
This year, things are a bit different. Jax and Opie just graduated high school in June and they both have their own girlfriends to take up all their time now. You have your own boyfriend too, but it’s the first time you’re bringing him around your family and friends. The two of you met and hit it off in a math class during a summer school program a few months back and haven’t stopped talking since. He’s a real sweet kid and you’re completely smittened. 
You’re nervously waiting by the entrance where a giant scarecrow greets people as they pass through. You glance at your watch and tap your booted toe.
“Is this guy ever gonna show up?” your brother asks.
“He’s only fifteen minutes late! Chill the fuck out,” you shoot back.
“This nerd is probably not even real,” Jax scoffs.
They’ve all heard about this guy but have never seen him. 
“Shut up! You’re a nerd!” You shove Jax and he stumbles back a bit, accidentally bumping into Tara.
“Come on, guys! Leave her alone. This is her first boyfriend. Be nice,” Tara jumps in to defend you.
If she only knew. 
“Screw this. I’m not waiting around for this imaginary guy. See you guys later,” Jax says, grabbing Tara’s hand before taking off. She throws a small wave to the group while being led away.
Despite Jax falling head over heels for Tara, you can’t really hate her. She’s always been nice to you and to be honest, it’s nice to have another female around, but you’re not sure how she’s stuck around for this long. Miss Community College doesn’t seem quite cut out for the MC life, but she’s committed to Jax and has a tattoo to prove it. You’ve also seen the way Gemma looks at her and talks about her. That’s one big obstacle no amount of tattoos is ever going to be enough to overcome.
“You okay waiting here by yourself?” Opie asks. “Katie wants a candy apple–”
“Don’t put this on me! You’re the one who wants one,” Kate cuts in and playfully slaps his arm.
“It’s fine. Go have fun. I’ll find you guys later,” you reply.
“You sure?” Opie asks again.
“Yes! Just go,” you chuckle and gently shove him. 
Opie reaches to ruffle the top of your hair before taking off. You swat his hand away and frantically fix your hair. You had spent a good amount of time this morning on it. After seemingly putting every strand back in place, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You instantly turn around to find your boyfriend flashing a smile at you.
“Johnny! You made it!” you squeal, but realize you sounded a bit too excited so you try to keep your cool.
“Yeah, sorry I’m late. I was helping my mom with the groceries,” Johnny apologizes as he rubs the back of his neck.
“It’s alright.” Your cheeks heat up as you tuck a loose chunk of hair behind your ear. “Anyways, come on. I want you to meet my brother and friends.”
Johnny is well aware of your association with the Sons. There is no hiding it when you live in a small town, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he looks forward to putting a face on some of the names you talk about all the time. With that, you grab his hand and the two of you go on your merry way.
***
It’s been maybe an hour or so since Jax and Tara had left the group and they haven’t circled back with anyone yet. They’ve lost track of time as they’ve been too busy getting lost in the corn maze and stopping every once in a while to makeout and grope each other while sharing a joint. As they try to find their way out, they hear some suspicious noises in the distance.
“Sounds like we’re not the only ones having a good time in here,” Jax whispers and chuckles quietly after taking a hit of the joint in his hand and passing it to Tara.
“All the teenagers are doing it,” she rolls her eyes, taking the joint from him.
As they continue to make their way through the maze, the noises get louder and more lewd, their path forcing them to listen to this hot and heavy private moment.
“No, stop! It tickles!”
Jax’s ears suddenly perk up. He recognizes that voice. 
“Just for a little bit?”
“I don’t know.”
“I won’t go all the way in.”
He hears soft moaning and his feet move quicker. His perked up ears are now bright red.
“Where are you going?” Tara asks as she tries to keep up.
When he rounds a corner, he finds you cornered against the tall wall of corn by Johnny with his hand under your skirt. Suddenly, Jax grabs the back of Johnny’s shirt and yanks him off of you. You flinch at the unexpected interruption.
“Jackson!” you shout as you pull your shirt and skirt down to cover yourself and rush over to where Jax flung Johnny on the ground. “Leave Johnny alone! What are you doing?!”
“Oh, so you’re Johnny. You are real. So I hear you’re good with math,” Jax says as he hovers over Johnny. “Maybe you can solve this for me: Johnny has a whole set of white pearly teeth. If I beat his face in with my two fists, how many teeth will Johnny have left?” he threatens.
“Jackson!” You grab onto Jax’s kutte and try to pull him off Johnny. 
“The lady said no!” With one hand grasping Johnny’s shirt, Jax’s other ringed fist is cocked back.
“What the hell?” Tara finally catches up and stumbles into the scene.
“Tara! Help me get him off!” You shout.
Tara ditches the joint and rushes over, grabbing Jax’s forearm to prevent him from slamming it into Johnny’s face. Finally with the combination of both of you and Tara, you’re able to drag Jax away. He’s a lot stronger than he appears for someone who looks 150 pounds when wet.
While still on the ground, Johnny scrambles away from Jax.
“Hey, I didn’t mean any harm.” He puts his hands up. “I was being respectful.”
“It sure as fuck didn’t sound like it to me!” Jax lunges at Johnny but you and Tara are holding him back. Johnny flinches and gets up on his feet.
“Johnny’s a nice guy! He wouldn’t force himself on me.” You step in between him and Johnny.
This certainly was not the way you had intended for them to meet, but you’re also not surprised by Jax’s behavior. Despite the fact he's the one who ended what the two of you had, his jealousy disguised as protectiveness ever since then did not go unnoticed by you.
“I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, but I understand you’re just being protective of her and I appreciate–” Johnny starts off.
“Shut the fuck up! As far as I know, you were being a fucking creep. You don’t get to touch her,” Jax growls as he points his finger at him.
“Fuck off, Jackson! Johnny’s my boyfriend and we can makeout and fuck all we want. We don’t need your permission,” you shoot back, stepping up to him.
“I’m gonna tell Ope,” Jax threatens.
“Go ahead. Just don’t leave out the part where you assaulted Johnny because I was consensually making out with him.” You cross your arms over your chest. 
You notice Jax’s jaw ticking and his breathing getting deeper and heavier. 
“Are… are you sure you’re okay?” Tara asks you sincerely while trying to focus on you. “Do you want to come with me and Jax?”
“I’m fine! Just leave us alone,” you reply.
“Okay, come on Jax. She said she’s fine.” Tara tugs on his hoodie sleeve. “Let’s try to find our way out. The munchies are kicking in.”
Both you and Jax stare each other down with snarls until finally Jax lets up after Tara gives him another pull.
“It was nice to finally meet you, Johnny. See you around.” 
As Jax and Tara start walking away, Jax stares Johnny down. He glances at you for a moment and you see the green in his ice cold blue eyes right before he turns facing front. He shrugs Tara’s hand off his bicep as he continues to walk away.
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hargrove-mayfields · 1 year
Text
It’s Harringrove Week! Billy’s Birthday Bonanza edition! @harringroveweek
prompt: 5 years old
warnings: there are a few brief discussions of a past miscarriage
Billy and Steve’s youngest child is turning five years old. They’ve done this seven other times now, the only one of their babies for which they didn’t get to celebrate this particular milestone being Summer, because she was adopted out of foster care at six.
Their wavy haired little girl is wearing a pink poofy dress, a gift to match the overload of pink decorations everywhere. Sadie is obsessed with Piglet from Winnie the Pooh, so of course everyone is required to wear little pink headbands with ears attached, and wear matching outfits. Dorothy is the only one who doesn’t have to adhere to this matching rule, since her feeding tube restricts the outfits she can wear.
To document the day, Steve has a camera, a gift from one of their friends as part of the group moving out of Hawkins clean up, set up on a tripod to the side. He doesn’t want it in the kids' faces making them uncomfortable, but he knows the hurt Billy feels being in his thirties now and having not a shred of evidence to prove his childhood existed. At least, not beyond the stiff, unhappy school photos his father had kept framed as part of the happy family routine he’d insisted on keeping up.
Their family isn’t like that. Both of them have done their damndest to make sure their babies got a better hand in life than they were given back at the start.
Sadies fifth birthday is going to be the best one yet for their littlest girl.
“Blow the candles out sissy!” Steve encourages her, after they did the Happy Birthday song in sign language, because all that singing would be sure to overstimulate her.
After a moment of placing her little hands on the table and hoisting herself up over the buttercream flower-adorned sheet cake, Sadie puffs her little cheeks and blows out all five candles, sitting back down to clap her hands together for herself, a proud smile plastered on her round face.
It inspires her siblings and her dads to cheer for her as well, giving quiet little exclamations and shaking their hands in a chorus of, “Yay Sadie!!”
Coming over to her, Billy asks her a question in sign, “How old are you now, Sadie little lady?”
Her developmental delay had made it hard for Sadie to understand these kinds of things at first. Steve has been spending a lot of extra time with her recently, teaching her numbers and letters and all of her siblings names. She even recently learned how to smile.
So it’s amazing when Sadie holds up her hand, all five fingers up, and announces her age with pure confidence. “Five!!”
Billy even catches a little glint of tears in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything though, and neither do any of the kids, though he also notices little Tommy, their always curious second youngest, checking on his daddy every now and again.
This party is probably the greatest damn thing in Sadie’s life since the first time she responded to her name when she was three. Standing there, hand in hand, watching their littlest girl rocking in her seat and giggling with her loving siblings, Billy and Steve could both about burst into tears, but, like Billy observed, they’re trying to make sure this stays happy.
Sadie doesn’t know the difference between happy tears and sad tears, and when anybody cries it breaks her little heart.
Steve distracts from the potential moment-ruining tear ducts, calling just loud enough to be heard over the kids chattering, “Cake time!”
***
Billy takes the job of wrangling all the kiddos into bed while Steve takes a bit of a rest after the party. He’s overwhelmed after today, all the sounds and sights, he’d actually tapped out of the celebration with Sadie on his hip before it was even over.
The bigger kids wanted to stay up a little later to burn off the sugar in their bodies, but Sadie was exhausted. He’d changed her into her favorite Piglet pjs, brushed her chin-length hair, and she’d fallen right asleep in his lap before he even got her to her bed.
He decided, after laying her on her pillows and pulling the handmade quilt up to her shoulders, just to sit in the little reading chair by her bed and watch over her. Not that there’s anybody around to notice, but he’s also maybe dozing off a bit every now and again.
The last kids to go down are little Tommy and Bobbi-Jo, since they share a room with Sadie and knew she would be trying to sleep by now. Billy brought them in, holding each of their hands now that they’re too heavy for his chronically out of place joints to carry, and they both climbed right into their beds without making a single peep.
Of course, two sets of stunning blue eyes peered across the room at Steve though, begging for nighttime kisses and hugs. And who was he to say no to his little ones, only 6 and 7 respectively?
After rosy cheeks were sufficiently smooched, and the princess night light turned on, Billy and Steve exchanged a look. Downstairs was still an absolute disaster thanks to the dropped pieces of cake, scraps of torn open wrapping paper, and stray streamers scattered about.
Without a word or a sign between them, the looks in their faces alone are enough to discuss whether or not they’re feeling up to it. They both think it’s best to just tackle it now before the kids can wake up and need something they can’t get to because it looks like a twister ransacked their living room.
They’re both surprised to see their oldest, named after their dear friend, Chrissy, up and out of bed and shoving deflated balloons into a small diaper recycling bag.
After a tiny bit of gentle, but concerned questioning, they discover their eleven year old just ate too much candy and gluten free cake. She couldn’t sleep thanks to the rush and wanted to be helpful.
Instead of forcing her to lay back down in her shared room with her snore-heavy siblings, Billy and Steve agree to let her stay up for another hour to help, but instead of asking her to do chores, she’s assigned to watch the baby monitors set up in the three rooms her siblings share. Especially keeping an eye on Summer and Joyce, since their older girl is prone to nightmares, and the latter has seizures in her sleep.
While her fathers take over the slow clean up of the birthday wreckage, Chrissy gets bored of watching the monitors in silence, and though she doesn’t take her eyes off the screens to keep doing her duty, she turns the volume up a little higher, and starts asking questions to keep herself busy.
“Since baby Sadie is five now, that means she has to start school, right?”
That makes them pause their cleaning. It’s a bit of a touchy subject. Steve has spent many a night crying because his youngest isn’t a baby anymore, and he’s terrified of handing over her care in the day to the school system that treated him so poorly when he struggled with the same things his autistic daughter is surely going to.
His comfort is knowing Billy, Chrissy, and Heather all work at the school in various positions, and can keep watch on the little sweetheart if she needs help. They’d done it for the other eight, and Sadie, although she’s struggled a lot, is no different.
Chrissy even personally offered to enroll Sadie in a new music therapy program, using her experience as the music teacher and the wife of a now successful musician to provide a new outlet. The school almost barred it from happening, figuring there wasn’t much their blind, wheelchair user teacher could do for the newest special needs case, but they changed their minds when Sadie toured the place to make sure it would be a right fit, and ran straight to her second favorite auntie Chrissy for a cuddle and a song. That whole situation was almost enough to make Steve decide on homeschooling his girl, but he isn’t exactly equipped to teach with his dyslexia and all.
But all of that is too much for their little Chrissy to worry or know about, so Steve simply answers, “Yep! In a few months, she’ll be in kindergarten.”
The limitations of their answers doesn’t even inhibit the number of questions she has for a second. She’s as sharp as a tack, and they’ve always encouraged her to ask questions and understand things in her own way, so she asks next, “So what will you do with none of us at home?”
“Well-“ Billy looks at Steve, and sees he’s already given up his task of folding up the plastic tablecloth to return the gaze. The only time they tried to talk about it, Steve had broken down into tears thinking about how much he’ll miss having his babies around, and spiraled into thinking about college and the future and grandkids. Billy takes over this conversation though and signs to her, expression casual so little Chrissy won’t worry, “We haven’t really thought about it too much yet.”
But their stubborn little girl already had an answer in mind, something she must have picked up from a tv show or other kids, “That’s silly. I’m a big girl now, so I know you’ll be glad to have the house all by yourself.”
“Bubba, trust me. Daddy is gonna be a wreck having an empty nest.” Billy answers with finality, about to change the subject for his husband's sake before Steve interrupts-
“I mean, the nest doesn’t have to stay empty though.”
It’s a good thing Chrissy was distracted by the baby monitor, probably watching her sister Carol roll around in her sleep, judging from the way she laughs every few seconds, or else she would have noticed the look Billy exchanged with Steve, equal parts shocked, worried, and intrigued.
They haven’t talked about having more kids since their last pregnancy ended early in tragedy. Some things, the kids just don’t know or need to know.
But they need to talk about what Steve just suggested.
Billy goes over to Chrissy and leans down to her level, both arms on the table to support himself, “Hey sissy?”
“Yeah, papa?” She looks to him and smiles, the little sweetheart always so happy to see her dads and have a connection with another person, the opposite of how Steve was when he was her age and afraid of eye contact. Sometimes Chrissy doesn’t like to speak at all, and will just make intense eye contact in its stead.
That warm swell of pride in his chest only makes him want to feel the joy of welcoming another baby even more.
Billy kisses little Chrissy's forehead and tells her it’s time for her to get back to bed, “You’ve helped enough, sweetheart. I bet you’re getting tired by now. I think it’s time for you to get some sleep yourself.”
“Are you sure? I like helping!” Their girl asks them sweetly, but she yawns right after she does so, proving she needs to get back in her bed.
It’s Steve’s turn to walk over and kiss her cheek, accenting his point with the goodnight kisses the other kids had begged him for, and telling her, “We’re super sure. Sweet dreams, little sheep.”
Hopping down from her chair with far too much energy for a little one who just looked so sleepy, she tells them quickly, in a combination of sign and speech, before she runs off to jump in her bed, “Night’ daddy, goodnight papa!”
Together, Billy and Steve watch on the baby monitors to make sure Chrissy got to her room and into bed, then resume their very important conversation.
“Do you really want more kids?”
Steve feels anxious now, coming up with some random excuse in sign to cover up what he truly wants, in case it’s too much for Billy, “Sadie needs me.”
“But it’s not like you won’t be here. You’ll just be here with a new baby in your arms.” Billy grounds him again. He’s always been so good at that, at being able to calm him and introduce rational concerns to Steve’s rsd brain. And he adds a sprinkle of playful flattery, just to make his husband smile, “New daddy Steve is the handsomest Steve.”
Even after a decade of marriage, it makes Steve blush. Flustered, he signs, a little bit wobbly in his execution because he’s so flattered, “Sweet talker.”
“You married me for my charm.” Well, that certainly helped, but it wasn’t the only reason. Steve still rewards the observation with a kiss instead of more clumsy words.
Billy’s arms wrap around him and, cliché as it sounds, the mess around them all disappears. All the stress, the worries about being the best possible, the fear of messing up; all gone in an instant. They kiss, and it feels like the first all over again.
Steve gets the courage to verbalize what he’s truly been thinking about, “I’d like to have more babies.”
His husband's face is priceless, filtering through adoration and shock before landing on a hint of concern, “Even after..”
The miscarriage, Steve fills in for him in his head. One of the absolute hardest moments of his life, tied only with the times Billy was in the hospital after his accident.
But he’s already decided he doesn’t want to carry children anymore, and offers the solution he’s dreamed about for three years now after losing their last pregnancy, “We can adopt. I always wanted to.”
He doesn’t miss the vibrant, shining look in Billy’s eyes now as his worry is cast away. Steve probably looks just as joyful and excited, though Billy’s focus was on his lips to make sure he could tell what was being said.
Then Billy asks, sounding almost breathless and whimsical, awestruck by Steve’s suggestion to expand their family again, “When?”
Those contagious emotions make it clear that this is what Billy wants too, and Steve swears his heart could just burst from happiness. He can’t wait until his longtime dream becomes reality again, to have a little baby in his arms again. To soften the intensity though, he gives Billy a more flexible answer, that lets him know he’s a part of this dream as well, “Whenever you're ready.”
****
It takes ten more months to find the right fit, the child who they can provide to the fullest for, who will not be afraid of two dads, and who will be okay with joining a family of eleven.
Only make it thirteen now, because in their arms are two brand new baby girls. Aurora, the bigger twin, is a little girl of jet black hair with a striking patch of white hair just in the center of her forehead. Waardenburg's it’s called, and it might cause her to grow up deaf just like her daddy. Her sister Briar Rose was born with a related condition that makes her skin and hair all as white as snow, and causes weakness with her heart and lungs. Also like her sister, she’s already presenting deafness.
The agency told them they were getting in over their heads by taking these girls home, but Billy and Steve knew the second they saw those fragile babies curled up in one shared crib, they would be their babies. Nine other kids all with varying states of health had prepared them for this challenge, and like little Chrissy said way back when, with the rest of the kids in school, they’ll have plenty of time with their newest additions, Steve especially while he stays home with them in the day.
It’s not even Billy’s birthday for another few days, but seeing all eleven of his babies gathered here around the living room in an assortment chairs and couches, cradles and a futon, and his gorgeous husband right by his side with a sleeping Aurora and Briar Rose cuddled up to his chest, that’s the best gift anyone could possibly ask for.
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bonnvivre · 3 months
Text
a funny thing- ch 24/25 word dump
WUAHAHAHA 4AM BABEY YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS
i’ve been cookin low and slow with this one and i mean real slow like. too slow . as in 2 weeks later whoops
this one’s a real doozy so grab a snack
FIRST PAGE ON THE GOSUKU TAG WHEN YOU SORT BY KUDOS LETS GOOOOOOO major rweiser W
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ch 24
thinking abt yuuji flying down the sidewalk and megumi becoming the equivalent of a flag whipping behind him pls yuuji not everyone can keep up 😭
fred says fuck
mmmmmm crunchy cookies i love me some egg shell
yeah with cooking, you can play around with the measurements and adjust along the way, but baking is whole different beast :[ i made creme brulee for our new year dinner, my first time baking actually, and i was terrified the entire process cus one wrong step and its over (they turned out good in the end, though i wanted to leave it in the fridge longer) 
sukuna and uraume on the same wavelength love that
daww megumi just be a kid its okay 
gojo’s nicknames for toji PLS father-fushi and fraidy-guro
hehehe he technically called sukuna pretty ,, i agree
LMAOOOOO AINT NO WAYY OFC HE SABOTAGED HIM 
i feel like toji would actually do well in getting sales (if he had the proper cookies) considering he’s “a pro at freeloading off women” which leads me to believe he’s got hella charisma . 
“Fushiguro stops just before the table, one hand balled into a fist so tight, the muscles of his arm are easy to see, flexing dangerously beneath his skin.” uwwheheheerhfbud sorry
OH SHT THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTING YOOOOOOOO AND SUKUNA JUMPING IN FOR GOJO ???? in front of the kids in a school fundraiser is crazy lmao
pinky
gojo taking bets on who’s gonna win reminded me of mei mei betting on the gojo-sukuna fight
i had a crazy amount of secondhand embarrassment going thru that hhhhhh yknow that feeling when you just wanna curl up and cover ur eyes and you’re fighting to even look back ? yeaaaaa
“Hurting people is bad. And you’re not bad!” ohh yuuji ughhh he has no idea of what sukuna was before, that he’s done more than hurt people .. children really only see the side of their parents that they’ve allowed to show them. it’s why kids usually think the highest of them, so yuuji saying that sukuna’s not bad gets me cus he’s known and seen only the best of him. but it makes me feel gooey inside cus, while everyone else sees the former king of curses, yuuji sees his dad and when he does eventually find out, he’ll still always be his dad before anything else (does this make sense i hope it makes sense im trying to make my thoughts coherent)
oh hey they’re talking abt it !
I GASPED OH MY GOD PLEAS EOLASOE APLEAS EPLAS EPALEAPSLEAPSH NOOOOOOOOO FFGGHGBBVV HITTING MY BED GRFGHJVNGRRAAGGHHFEG
im being tortured i thinj you’re trying to kill me here this is the worst case of edging ive ever had in my life (no not like that) 
post-chapter notes:
IM ALREAYD RIOTING YASTOP BLUE BALLING ME
id read real housewives of jujutsu sorcery
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ch 25
GRADE 1 ?? AS IN ONE ?? AS IN  O N E  ?? AS IN, YUUJI IS NO LONGER A PRESCHOOLER
when you said small time-skip, i thought you meant a few months later . i was wrong
aight time to update the time board: yuuji’s in first grade so he’s 6 yrs old, we’re in 2013 now (i think), gojo is 24 yrs old  23 yrs old (chap takes place during summer, bday not passed yet)
it’s 2013, he can get a 3ds now :D im gonna get him on smash bros . OR KID ICARUS UPRISING IT SHOULD BE OUT ALREADY
they should totally name the potential pet after me (jk)
OKAYYYY THATS A START HE KISSED HIM ON THE HEAD !! WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE :O now go lower. preferably on the li
oh yeah yeah definitely not together whatever helps you sleep at night man
im gonna need the bad bitches birthday bash one-shot someday with the way shoko’s bringing it up
the fact gojo’s heard the threat so many times before that he can finish it and brush it off
CANDY CRUSH  !!?!??
AWWWWWW THATS ADORABLE ;____; sukuna wanting to do something to surprise gojo’s first day as a teacher and yuuji suggesting to make a cake cus he knows his daddy loves sweets AND they spent the whole day prepping awawawawaw so cutee
they called on uraume for help too LOL poor them 
yuuji being a snitch HA i can’t help but think of my siblings
you can’t be serious gojo, not after that? people also don’t usually sleep and cuddle the homies cmon man
mother is mothering and mother is leading the herd (no but i love how he adapted to the role very easily, likely to prior experience)
whuh the fundraiser was last year ? am i overthinking the timeframe … ok im back after going thru the calendar that makes sense 👍 carry on wait hold on first semester of first grade ended so they’re on break ... summer break ?? unless this is going off of a different schooling system (oh yeah duh japan lol)
ohhh please let them meet mama-guro i can imagine the absolute shock on their faces trying to comprehend how someone like toji managed to marry someone like her 😭 bonus points if toji is much more softer around her too and the sheer whiplash of seeing him having ANY sort of loving side is enough to send gosuku into a spiral
“It’s exactly the type of thing Sukuna would never be caught dead wearing, which means Satoru must do all in his near-infinite power to make him wear it.” real
THESE THREE ARE RIDICULOUS LMAOOOOOO sorry kids your fathers are busy trying to one-up each other
“But, then again, these are just go-karts; how much damage could he really do?” famous last words before disaster
oh no
hey sukuna’s living life at least he’s having fun and that’s all that matters 🥰
not the pyramid projectiles
CONICAL AMMO !?$&7)-)26 MARIO KART IRL GONE WRONG oh my god its too late for this i need to sleep
OH MY GOD ?????? 
WHADDYA MEAN THEY’RE GONE ??????
post chap notes:
what just happened
no really what jusr happened
the amount of times i’ve said oh my god throughout the entire go-kart scene i was clutching my pearls
he recreates his reign in the silliest ways, all while wearing nice little red bow :3
nah i get it the entire first arc was dedicated to how messed up he was abt suguru so i understand the doubts but they’ve also near kissed multiple times .. unless they were super down with kissing the homies 
“I sure hope nothing bad has happened to them...” STOP
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