#like when I say ‘yeah I don’t like this coworker because of the shitty fucking things she did to my friend’
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I hate when I’ll be complaining about some stupid bullshit a coworker does to other coworkers and half the time their response is to lower their voice and go “well…. You know…. I’m pretty sure they’re… on the spectrum, you know?” And every time I have a split second when I have to consider saying “you know I’m autistic, right?” just to make them vaguely uncomfortable for a few minutes and actually think about what they’re implying but of course I do not do that because the gratification is not worth a large sect of shitty coworkers knowing that about me and then talking about me like that every time I do something vaguely annoying or dumb but man…. It does get tempting sometimes
#like idk!!! sometimes the coworkers in question DO display some common autistic traits#but that is NEVER what is being complained about (at least not by me) so WHY are we bringing it up like that el oh el#like when I say ‘yeah I don’t like this coworker because of the shitty fucking things she did to my friend’#the response should not be ‘well I think she’s autistic isn’t that so funny she’s so obsessive about stuffed animals it’s annoying’#shut up shut up SHUT UP AND DIE#I don’t CARE that they talk too loud I don’t CARE that they’re bad a social cues I don’t CARE that they do ‘weird things’#and it’s so. HFDJSJKSKSKS AAAGGHHHHH#whether they’re autistic or not MAYBE that’s not what should be getting brought up during a conversation like that when it has NOTHING to do#with it#also maybe we shouldn’t be doing shit like whispering ‘on the spectrum’ like its some awful terrible thing#just thoughts idk#and the thing is too is that even if I told these ppl I was autistic#they would 100% be the types that are like ‘oh? but you don’t ACT autistic I don’t think you are’#like actually I got very good at masking for these reasons thnx#also you think autism = Sheldon from the Big Bang theory and nothing else#but I already learned my lesson cuz I told a coworker that I wasn’t sure about exactly twice#one of them went ‘oh THATS why you’re so dumb and don’t realize when other ppl don’t like you and take advantage of you’#and then the other one went on a mansplaining spiel about how me being autistic was why adhd meds didnt work on me??????#so yeah. never doing that again. haha. hahahaha. hahahaha……#this actually happened a few days ago but it’s been Bothering me so much#I hate my fucking job….#kaz rambles
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In My Feels
Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.
warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.
*if I miss anything please let me know.
a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!
Now I’m in my feels
Way up in the clouds somewhere now
Don’t know what’s real
Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you.
From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time.
You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him.
Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it.
It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.
Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.
Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.
There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.
“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up.
“Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes.
“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.”
“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.
“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger.
“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters.
“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.”
“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.”
Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.
“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."
Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.”
“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk.
“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.
Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.
Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.
“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.
As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.
As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.
There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.
But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.
“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.
“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.
“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.
“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.
“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.
“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.
“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.
“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.
“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.
You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.
“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.
Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.
“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.
“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.
“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.
“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.
“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.
No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.
With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.
“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.
The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.
“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.
“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”
“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”
You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.
“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”
“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.
“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.
“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.
“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.
“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.
“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.
Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.
Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.
Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.
“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.
“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.
“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.
“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.
“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.
“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.
Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.
“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.
“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”
The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.
“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.
“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.
That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.
You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.
Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.
Steve,
You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.
Can’t wait to get that ice cream.
-your favorite customer
683-027-9305
Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.
“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.
“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.
It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.
Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️
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#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington friends to lovers#modern!steve harrington
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♡ txt as summer jobs
pairing: ot5!txt
genre: crack
warnings: completely unserious.
a/n: my inspiration? work has been kicking my ass and i thought it'd be funny if a shitty summer job kicked their ass too! will be updating with a REAL FIC so soon
Yeonjun
Works everywhere and is somehow always broke
It starts to freak you out
Like you see him as your cashier getting ice cream
And then he’s stocking shelves at the store and you’re like, “Oh, that’s weird..”
And then he’s your waiter at a restaurant
And you’re like, “?????”
He’s all cute and nice and hates his job(s) and is like, “I’m saving for a car!”
But he can blow through a paycheck in like a week.
If he’s your coworker omg I could imagine him being the coolest person ever.
Willing to pick up shifts, is fun to talk to when it isn’t busy, and gets shit done when it is.
I don’t see him being like the manager type, but the type that all the managers love even when he’s being super lazy just because he’s charming.
Soobin
Really sweet barista at Starbucks
The type that you run and tell your friends about after you see him because he’s so attractive and so nice
He hates his job though.
I could see him not being a manager but instead being a “team leader” which is basically a manager in training wheels.
Always stressed. Always saying, “I think I’m going to quit soon”
His ass is NOT quitting soon
Like- if he quit, his coworkers would probably cry
Constantly cleaning because he’s constantly knocking things over.
Any embarrassing customer experience? He can safely say he’s had it
Really good at saving his money well
Like… suspiciously good.
Beomgyu
Works at like Forever 21 or something
And using “work” here loosely because he never shows up
How he isn’t fired a month in? Who knows.
A stickler for his job title too
“Oh, so you’re like a cashier at-”
“I’m actually a style consultant.”
He’s just a cashier with a fancy name.
He will hide in between clothing racks and play on his phone or chit-chat with someone else
And if he’s on register, he’s really not paying attention to his surroundings
“Hi, are you able to check me out?”
“What..”
“Like, can I pay here?”
“OH, YES, RIGHT! I WORK HERE!”
Will tell customers all the workarounds and codes and coupons they can stack without them even having to ask.
His giving out company secrets will probably get him fired before him never doing his job.
Taehyun
Works at some fast food spot and wins management over in like a week.
So efficient, so smart, so practical, he gets promoted in record time
the embodiment of this meme I'm sorry
He’s genuinely very good at his job and not necessarily proud of it, just good at it.
And he’s only so good because he uses common sense.
The old ladies that come in love him and are like, “You remind me of someone I knew when I was in high school!”
Will not cover any shifts for the LIFE of him, he would actually prefer you call out before asking him to cover your shift for you
He’d also be so annoying to couponers. It’d basically become a battle of who knows the company policy better
GOD at saving money. Has a 401k and retirement and college fund.
Kai
Game stop employee
Like if you’re buying a game that he knows, you’re stuck for another half hour listening to him talk about it
He gets in trouble for stashing away things that get sold out quickly for himself
He’s actually so sweet to the nerdy little kids in the store
But he also would tell their parents, “This game has a lot of violence and gore btw!!!!!” before they buy it for their kid
As a coworker would have the most fucked up inconsistent schedule
Shows up every day for 2 weeks in a row
And then disappears
And then shows up every day again and you’re like “hello???”
Would initiate the oddest small talk ever while the store is empty
“Do you ever wonder if a little pebble in your shoe is actually your toe rolling around?”
“No….”
“Yeah, me neither.”
#txt headcanons#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt fluff#txt x reader#beomgyu#beomgyu fluff#beomgyu headcanons#beomgyu scenarios#beomgyu x reader#hueningkai imagines#huening kai#hueningkai#hueningkai angst#hueningkai drabble#hueningkai headcanons#hueningkai fluff#hueningkai scenarios#hueningkai x reader#soobin imagines#soobin#soobin angst#soobin fanfic#soobin fluff#soobin x reader#soobin scenarios#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun angst#yeonjun fanfic#yeonjun fluff
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It’s not the first time Steve has to call an ambulance that does it.
The first time he’s fucking terrified, coming home from a long shift at the new Blockbuster down the street and dinner after with a coworker only to find his boyfriend, passed out on the floor of their shared apartment. He panics, at first, because what the fuck is he supposed to do, and then he gets it together and calls 911. The paramedics won’t let him in the ambulance so he follows behind in the beamer, white knuckles the steering wheel, all the way to the hospital. They won’t let him go all the way in and he paces for hours in the waiting room, drinking shitty hospital cafeteria coffee, before the nurse finally tells him where to go.
And the thing is. The thing is it makes sense. Eddie’s been struggling since the Upside Down. So has Steve, to be honest. They’ve both been crashing, different vices, different issues. So the first time he has to call the ambulance, he gets it. It makes sense, even though it hurts. Sometimes things happen, and Steve can’t fault Eddie for one night of too many goddamn whiskeys. Hell, he’s come pretty close to that point himself, more times than he can count lately. He makes a promise to himself to be better, to be there when Eddie needs him.
To be enough.
It’s not the second time he calls the ambulance that does it either, because as much as that one hurts, it still makes sense. Eddie on the ground gives his brain Eddie in the Upside Down, broken and bleeding and almost fucking dead and Steve calls the ambulance but he chugs a beer back before he follows in the beamer. And fuck, they’ve been through it, haven’t they? Eddie’s been trying but of course it’s going to be hard. People make mistakes and god knows Steve’s made his own, so who is he to do anything but try. Try harder to make Eddie see he doesn’t need this shit. To make him see that Steve loves him so much, loves him enough for both of them, loves him enough to get them through it. So that’s what he does.
He tries, even though he’s failing too. There’s beer in the house and he gets it, now. How much it helps to keep the noise down.
They’ve been fighting about it, even though they don’t have much else they fight about.
So of course he gets it.
The third time he has to call hurts even more. Of course it does, it screams Eddie’s failing and you’re failing and why can’t you be good enough, why can’t you love him enough to fix it. But the hurt is washed over by anger because how can he keep doing this after everything they’ve been through? Hours of meetings together. Weeks of Eddie off in rehab. Whispered promises that it’s done, it’s over. You can’t beat addiction but you can control it. They can focus on them. Maybe start that family they keep talking about. It’s behind them now. It was supposed to be behind them.
But it’s not even the third time, because the third time when Eddie wakes up he looks devastated but he still manages a smile. Still manages to say, voice rough because of the intubation, third time’s the charm, right baby? And- the average addict relapses four times, but I’ve always been below average, huh? I can feel it. This is gonna be my year.
And Steve’s not perfect either. He’s doing better, yeah, he’s putting in the work, but he’s not perfect. He’s better though. He’s been better because he’s been trying. He’s still trying because he keeps picturing Eddie, baby on his hip, cooing and giggling. Picturing them curled up at forty, at fifty, at eighty. Looking back and saying wow, we were fucked up then but we had each other. We got through it together like we always did. So the third time hurts. It pisses him off. But he’s still holding that picture in his mind, despite it fraying at the edges just a bit.
But the fourth time, when it should all be behind them because it had been better, they’d been better, when he comes home and finds Eddie on the floor, broken bottle next to him, needle still in his arm…
Well. Fourth time’s the fucking charm for him.
He calls the ambulance, watches Eddie get loaded in, feels the tears drying onto his cheeks. One of the paramedics knows him from the last time and gives him this sad smile. Says “we got him soon enough, think he’s gonna be okay. He’s lucky, your boy, but even cats only get nine lives.” Steve shuts the ambulance door and doesn’t get in his car to follow. He heads back up the stairs, cleans up the vomit, and starts to pack.
He puts his most important things in the beamer, leaves the rest. Doesn’t leave a note because he doesn’t know what to say. Calls the hospital before he goes because he has to know—Eddie’s awake and asking for him.
He drives to a liquor store instead. Drives until he can’t anymore and checks into a motel halfway between Chicago and Hawkins.
Thinks about his blue two year chip (sitting on his nightstand in the apartment, one of the things not precious enough to bring) as he twists open the bottle, and finally finally finally lets the sweet relief of whiskey burn through his throat.
He’ll regret it tomorrow, but tonight? It’s the only thing he has left.
Steve doesn’t go back to Chicago for nearly four years. He thought about it. Thinks about it. Constantly. He knows that Eddie’s alive because Dustin kept in touch, will give him a little knowing nod every time they see each other (rare, these days, as Steve barrels towards thirty and the kids finish university, get jobs across the country, try to make it home for Christmas and don’t always succeed). He never asks for more because it’s too hard to hear. Dustin tells him, one day, that Eddie’s doing really well now. Steve doesn’t know if he can believe it. He doesn’t want to believe it, because if Eddie’s doing well now without him it means he’s the problem he’s the reason he—he calls his therapist and puts in the fucking work.
He stays in Hawkins. Faces his demons, mostly metaphorical now. Spends a lot of time with Hopper, who gets it more than almost anyone but still wants better for him. Spends hours on the phone with Robin, who begs him to go back into the real world but he can’t, because it hurts too much. Takes enough correspondence classes to get an associate’s degree. Starts driving to the community college a few towns over for classes and upgrades to a Bachelors of Psychology, and starts to understand himself and Eddie and trauma, and things start to hurt a little less. He doesn't drink anymore, goes to meetings with as much regularity as he can, and when he’s finally got a new two year chip in his hands he thinks he might be ready. It hurts like an old wound, twinging in the rain but mostly fine, and he thinks he could maybe handle Chicago again.
He still doesn’t go.
At the end of the day, it’s the acceptance letter into the Masters of Educational Counselling program at the University of Illinois that does it. He honestly hadn’t been expecting to get in, it’s a competitive program and Steve Harrington who barely graduated high school doesn’t exactly scream school counsellor material. But his essay was good, he knows it was. And he knows he’s going to be good at this.
So he packs up the beamer, again. Pulls over to sleep in a tent on the side of the road and calls Hopper from a payphone, sobbing because he can’t do it.
He does it anyway.
He gets to Chicago and his apartment’s on the opposite side of town now but the first time he drives past the hospital again he has a breakdown so bad he almost goes home. But he’s been putting in the work, and he’s doing more than trying now. He’s solid, he’s stable, and he pulls himself together. He calls Hopper and Robin, he goes to meetings, he’s doing well.
He’s studying in a coffee shop, down the street from his apartment, when the open mic starts.
“Hi everyone,” says a voice that Steve would recognize from a hundred miles away. He forces himself to look and Eddie’s on the little stage, an acoustic guitar in hand. "Thanks for being here with me today. I've got some new stuff for y'all that I think you're going to like."
And then he plays. Steve gives up on his work, leans back in the chair, and watches. Eddie looks... he looks good. Better than he had when Steve was around. His hair's still long but it's curly and bouncy, and his skin is bright and alive in the way an addict's never is. His fingers skip, sure and strong, over the frets and his voice is that same melody Steve has never let himself forget, with this almost bluegrass twang that makes Steve's heart ache. He’s playing different music, and he’s shining like he’s made of gold in the late afternoon sun.
There's something about it, about watching Eddie, that feels a bit like healing. Eddie had always loved to play, but the music scene he was in had broken him before, not fixed him. He'd always wanted to make more of his own music, and here it is and it's good. The songs are catchy, straddling his blues/folk upbringing and his rock/metal lifestyle.
And then Eddie finishes a song, maybe his sixth, and his eyes scan the crowd and Steve feels when they land on him. He feels the way the whole room runs out of air, all at once, and Eddie is totally frozen for a full minute. Steve's heart is beating a million miles an hour-he wants to get up, he wants to run, but he's frozen to the seat. Pinned by Eddie's gaze.
And he knows he's been doing better, he has, but nothing was ever as good as it could have been because this is what he was missing.
"I've got," Eddie finally says, and has to stop and clear his throat. "I've got one more song for you." He's talking to the audience, but he never looks away from Steve, and the room has narrowed so much it might as well only be only the two of them there. "This one's about the one I chased away."
Steve pays attention to the lyrics and his heart breaks half a dozen times. Eddie sings about hating himself, about Steve hating him, about how the thing that tore them apart is the thing Eddie will never touch again, how the hatred is what drove him to be better. He sings about forgiveness and healing and when he finishes the coffee shop claps, Eddie waves, and the spotlight cuts.
It isn't even a conscious decision, but Steve finds himself walking up to the stage. Eddie turns away from where he's put the guitar away, their eyes meet again and it feels like coming home.
"I don't hate you," Steve whispers, because he's forgotten how to speak. "I never could."
"I'd understand if you would," Eddie says, and he's stepping closer. They're a foot apart now, eyes locked, and Steve's hands are shaking.
"I've been, uh, working really hard on myself." Steve admits, and he can't help himself. He lifts a hand and tucks a curl behind one of Eddie's ears. "I... I think about you all the time."
Eddie grins, and leans into his touch. "Me too," he murmurs, and drags his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. "I've been putting in the fuckin' work, Steve. And it's not easy, and I'm not perfect. I can't ever promise you perfect. But I'm three years sober, and I think I'm worth it, now. I think you're worth my love and I think I'm worth yours."
"I put in the fuckin work too," Steve mumbles, and he tips his head forwards so their foreheads hit.
When they're forty, they look back on this moment and grin at how little they knew. How much they believed their love would be enough, because the first time it wasn't. But this time, now that they've grown, that they've put in the fucking work?
This time, it's enough.
Eddie looks good with babies on his hips. Steve loves him more every day. They look back at forty, at fifty, at eighty, and they know their love could only have existed because they broke it, and learned by themselves how to fix it. It still hurts sometimes, aches like an old wound, but all Steve needs to do is to squeeze Eddie's hand, to feel his heart beating, and he knows:
He wouldn't trade what they have for the world.
(click here to read Eddie’s version, by the incredibly talented @riality-check !)
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#steddie fic#fic collab!#alligator-writes#blame ria for all of the angst#i can't help myself!#GO READ HER VERSION!#we really fed off each other here but yall its SO GOOD#trigger warning#substance use#substance abuse#overdose#drug use#angst#happy ending
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Emergency call
Sypnosis: You recently graduated as a nurse, oficially working like one already. You had to attend some people that were injured on an accident, is there when you find your ex bf from like 2 years ago is there too!
Words count: 1.6k
TW: No one? Slightly mentions of physical damage, nothing serious.
Btw, my first time writing! I've never written before and english isn't even my first language. Sooo; anyways, I had this idea hearing "Llamado de emergencia" - Daddy Yankee.
Well, it's been like 2 years already?
The last time he saw you, you were almost in the middle of your nursing career or something. He assumes you are already working or something, he doesn’t really understand how medicine careers work or something, it's kinda complicated.
The only reason he cares it’s because it was the reason he broke up with you, some shit like “I want more time to study, but don’t worry, I will come back after some years”.
Surprise, it's already been two years and no notice of you after you left the town.
Anyways, he was cooking some shitty recipe he saw on instagram, he didn't even know why he even tried. The only times he eats decent cooked food is when he goes to dinners or when you used to cook for the both of you. He thinks he is almost over your awesome self; he doesn’t cry hearing cigarettes after sex songs while he sees your polaroids together. Plus, he remembered you because he can’t believe how someone can be that bad at cooking, i mean, himself.
He smelled something weird, gas? Nah, it can’t be, he is very careful with that and plus he trust the safety of the complex of his apartment enough to assume it can’t be a gas leak. So, he saw the third step of the recipe and went to the oven to see how it was all going until… Bum!
Yeah, to the surprise of no one, it suddenly all burns in fire. It was a gas leak, of course it was, the smell warned him like ten minutes ago but he is just too fucking stubborn.
-
You were resting calmy, eating a piece of bread and a coca cola with your work buddies. Until you get a call. Some people were hurted by some kind of explosion and they needed immediate help; it was your work anyways, now that you are officially a nurse.
You fastly fix your uniform and get onto the ambulance with the rest of your coworkers. Well, it’s not the kind of thing you would like to do on your first day in this hospital after they transferred you back to your hometown. But, work is work and you get paid for this.
You are on the back with Shoko, your friend. A guy it's driving to the building and the other passenger puts on some music. It's not the best to put Ariana Grande on the way to attend people probably dying, but it calms you all in the meantime.
When you arrive, you already see the firemen attending to some people and turning off the fire of the building. You fastly got out of the ambulance and went to the first person you saw, fastly making him (apparently, you haven’t paid attention yet) lay down on a stretcher while you took out your first aid box and finally saw him.
For your surprise, and his surprise too. It's him, your ex, great. Congratulations I guess, you kinda missed him when you were gone, welcome back Satoru Gojo!
“What a surprise, mhm?” You said with a subtle smile, checking his vital signs while he looked at you in amusement.
“You- Uh…” He tries to say, you just made a “shhh” sound, putting your index fingers softly over his lips to shut him up, you knew him. You ignored his attempts to talk and leaned over to hear his heartbeat with your stethoscope.
“How bad, it seems we have to get you to emergencies” You say, fastly keeping all your supplements in their box again, calling two of your coworkers to put his stretcher on the ambulance. In less than a wink, he is already being attended by other people and you were looking out for other hurted people.
-
For his sweet delight, he saw you. How lucky he felt, he was just thinking of you some minutes ago, what a coincidence.
It was sweet seeing you, at least he knows now you are officially graduated and working already, and in this town. Fuck, you would miss him? He wouldn't mind coming back to your arms again and eating your delicious food every day.
He can’t think that much with those annoying murmurs of the doctors attending him and the insufferable screech on his ears. He just gets to distinguish something about some high pressure? I guess.
Anyways, going back to the initial and important theme. Damn, you looked good on your uniform, too good. How lucky he is to be saved by you. Maybe not saved because he will probably survive this but, anyways, you get the point.
After like an hour, you come back to the ambulance. You sigh and make a messy ponytail on your hair, sweating a bit. “God, luckily just him is gravely hurted” You said, sitting beside his stretcher and you chuckle quietly looking at him.
He slowly started to feel dazed, looking badly and even imagining hearts in his view as he saw you. What was that? Effects of the anesthesia, better late than ever, right?
He felt kinda drugged, ngl, but in a good way. If you already looked good, now having you in front of him seeing you prepare a needle with hearts (that he was imagining) around you and like a pink kdrama type filter it just makes everything better.
“Satoru, I'm going to put this in your arm, okay? Stay still” You saw, one hand softly resting on his stomach as you stood up next to him, looking down at him with a calm expression.
*”Satoruu” He repeats giggling, it seems he just heard that; looking at you even with more hearts and everything, hell, he even thinks it's in the background reproducing some romantic music.* Well, news, it was like some the weeknd song btw, nothing romantic.
“Yeah, ‘Satoruu’. You knew it was your name?! Wao!” You giggled, seeing the man smiling lazily at you and giggling. You take advantage of his calm state to introduce the straddle.
“Mhm. But it sounds better when you say it.” He hummed, replying as you put a band-aid on his arm.
“Oh, don’t tell me” You laugh again, checking his vital signs again and letting out a sigh of stress. For then, start to drink from a bottle of water you had around.
“You.. You and I should be sleeping happily, maybe even in this shit. It can stand the two of us, you aren’t that heavy” He says suddenly, looking at you. You, in disbelief spill out a bit of your water out of your mouth in a laugh. Even the other people laugh, hell, even Shoko who was driving.
“Fuck… Sorry?” You try to calm your laugh at him, both of your arms softly resting on the side of where he is laying.
“I told you, like, you look good enough right now. You take off my pants and th-” He tries to say, only to be interrupted by you softly slapping his chest and laughing loudly again with the rest of the people.
“Control your mouth” You said laughing again, you can’t believe this man. It has been two years and he hasn't changed a little, he always used to expose you and himself like this.
-
When everything has calmed down, you led his stretcher to the emergency room fastly and prepared himself to rest. He wasn’t that badly injured really, he can leave in like an hour.
“Well, Satoru, you seem well. If you’re lucky, you can leave in like 30 minutes” You said, checking his papers and writing something on the other. Standing next to him.
“Im not well” He says with a pout, it seems the anesthesia still have effects.
“Oh, and that's why?” You sit next to him with a smile, looking at him with your eyes, battling your eyelashes at him unconsciously.
“You left me, a long time ago” He said sadly, yep, it seems he still has the anesthesia effects. You just chuckled and rolled your eyes, seeing him slowly fall asleep.
-
Some hours after, he woke up feeling a bit bad, a bit better, a bit of everything. He had a headache, kinda hard.
He groaned and looked up, not remembering well the events of yesterday more than your beautiful self. He fastly rubbed his eyes and tried to look up for you, abruptly trying to stand up.
“Calm your ass, she isn't around right now.” A female voice says, the woman placed a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked at her and well, it was Shoko, unfortunately.
“Shoko, the fuck? I haven't saw her in like two years and then she came but then she is g-” He tries to say, his pressure abruptly growing. Shoko makes an “ooo” sound, checking some appliances around him.
“Calm down Satoru, look at your pressure. I think you should check yourself out sometimes, something is wrong with your pressure” She says, looking at him.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” She humm, taking all the appliances and things on him out, letting him free to go.
“Good luck, she gave me this.” Shoko said, her hand looking for something in her pockets. She take out a pack of cigarettes, her keys and then… Finally!
She gave him a paper, she didn’t read it so she can’t explain to him what it is. Anyways, she has more work and she can text him later, she walks out the place while she waves her hand at him.
Satoru walks out the place with a sigh and look out at the paper.
-
“Heyy, so here’s my number ****-**** !!
missed u, ig :p
w love, Y/n”
#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satorugojo#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#shoko#jjk fluff#mayonesa
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4 in the moment kiss where they’re enemies to lovers. Maybe coworkers? 🤔
I technically cheated and combined these two but I think it's okay because it ended up being over 3k words 😅
...
“How do I say you’re fucking insane if you think I’m doing all of this without getting fired immediately?” Clarke asks Raven, who sits in the cubicle across from hers.
“The new boss?” Raven asks, still typing away without taking her eyes from her screen. Looking to be just about as overloaded as Clarke feels.
“Yeah. She’s already getting on my nerves because she’s rescheduled our initial meeting like 4 times now. And she keeps sending me things that don’t even have anything to do with my department. I’m the director of People and Culture. I'm not a recruiter. I’m not in marketing. And I’m sure as shit not her personal assistant either. And it’s like -” she glances at the corner of her screen for the time “3 o’clock. I’m supposed to do the jobs of 4 people and still get out by 5? Or does she expect me to pull overtime on a Friday night? Like there’s no way I could possibly have plans. Maybe she’s one of those people who thinks that just because I’m not married and don’t have kids she can shove off everyone else's work on me.”
“Lexa’s a busy person Clarke. I really don’t think it’s personal.”
“Personal or not, it’s not fucking happening. So help me with this email or else your next cube neighbor might be some insufferable old white guy whose all-natural deodorant is just really not working for him.”
Raven relents, finding a stopping point in whatever exactly she’s doing to get up and shoo Clarke out of her chair. She ends up deleting 98% of what Clarke had written, swapping out phrases like “why the fuck didn’t you tell me you needed this done sooner” and “that’s not my fucking problem” with more diplomatic phrases such as “I’ll schedule those meetings for you at your earliest availability” and “I wasn’t involved with that project but I will forward your request to the appropriate parties”, respectively.
“You’re weirdly good at that for someone with the smartest mouth I know,” Clarke commends her when she’s finished.
“It’s all about balance, babe. Now can I please get back to my job? Or the Commander’s going to fire us both. Maybe your mom will let us turn her study back into your bedroom and we can crash there when we can’t make our rent next month.”
Clarke rolls her eyes. Then something registers. “Wait. The Commander? Is that what people are calling her?” she asks, a mixture of disbelief and disgust seeping into her voice.
“Yeah,” Raven shrugs.
“I get that she’s the boss but she’s not commanding me to do anything,” Clarke grumbles. She plops back down in her chair and starts typing angrily.
“If you add anything to that that gets you fired after I just rewrote the whole thing for you I’m going to be so pissed,” Raven warns.
“I’m not,” Clarke promises. “I just don’t want her to think she can walk all over me. Command me,” she adds, rolling her eyes.
She ends the email with Hope this helps, let me know if you would like to meet with me to go over the roles of our departments and their directors to avoid misallocation of time and resources in the future and hits send. She hopes it's just passive-aggressive enough to get the message across without being able to be used against her.
She goes back to work, furiously attempting to complete the tasks The Commander had unloaded on her. She may not have kids or a significant other waiting for her at home but she does have a cat and a bottle of red wine and a new episode of her favorite shitty reality TV show to watch.
So far the new boss has taken 2-3 days to return any of her emails. So she isn't expecting it at all when she gets the notification that someone has replied to the email she just sent an hour ago.
That sounds like a great idea. Come up whenever you are ready.
Clarke's initial reaction is oh shit. Followed in rapid succession by annoyance and frustration when she has the realization that it's already past 4 o'clock now and this means she most definitely will not be getting out on time, not that there was much hope she would, anyway. But still.
She needs to learn to keep her big stupid mouth shut.
"It was nice knowing you," she grumbles to Raven as she gets up and smooths the wrinkles from her slouch out of her shirt. Raven quirks a brow but seems otherwise unfazed as Clarke shuffles toward the elevator and her impending doom.
…
…
Clarke knocks three times, half hoping to not be heard so she can say she tried and return to her desk.
No such luck.
“Come in.” The voice is muffled by thick oak and considerable distance but Clarke manages to catch it. She steadies herself and lifts her chin, prepared to simultaneously defend herself and give The Commander a piece of her mind as she opens the door and steps into her office.
She’s wholly unprepared for the woman she finds sitting behind the desk.
She isn’t sure what she was expecting but it definitely isn’t this. Lexa looks young, for starters, nearly the same age as Clarke. Her features are somehow both delicate and sharp, with high cheekbones and pouty lips and big round eyes that Clarke can’t quite figure out the color of at first glance. Chestnut hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun like it was originally down but she’d had enough by the end of the day, strands towards the front not contained by the hair tie and instead framing her face.
Clarke’s first impression is that this might be the most attractive woman she’s ever seen in her life. Her second is that she looks tired. And her third, more of an observation than an impression, is that it looks like a bomb went off in this office. There are papers literally scattered all over the floor, boxes stacked along the walls and windows that would normally boast an expansive view of the skyline, and the couch against the far wall looks like it’s been functioning as a dresser and changing room of sorts with slacks and button down blouses draped over its back and arms.
Between Lexa’s unexpected prettiness and the warzone that is her office Clarke momentarily forgets why she’s here and that she was even mad to begin with.
“I apologize for the state of my office,” Lexa says, likely having followed Clarke’s gaze around the room. “It’s been a whirlwind trying to get everything in order around here. Titus gave us no warning about his departure and apparently was trying to run this company into the ground, by my estimations after going through what I could of the data.” She sighs, finishing scribbling something down onto a sticky note which she adds to a pile of other sticky notes on the left side of her desk. “Sit, please,” Lexa tells her, gesturing to the chair on the other side of her desk.
Clarke has that tongue-tied feeling that she only gets around pretty women. And that - cannot be how she feels sitting across from her new boss, especially not as the leader of People and Culture. She forces herself to speak, reminding herself why she’s here and what her end goal is; to not get fired while also putting her foot down about the scope and limitations of her role. She decides to get right down to business, voicing her concerns, and finds Lexa to be… a very good listener. She listens so well and intently, in fact, that Clarke almost finds herself losing her train of thought because those eyes.
And then she does something Clarke had absolutely not expected her to do - she agrees with her about the general mismanagement occurring and state of disarray in the company and asks for her input about the best way to move forward. She apologizes for sending a slew of information and tasks her way and explains that she never meant for Clarke to complete all of that work on her own or immediately but rather to delegate and get to things when she had the time. She thanks Clarke for her hard work and dedication and tells her that even though this is their first formal meeting she’s well aware of the hard work she does and is very thankful for her contributions to the team.
Clarke’s been working in corporate culture long enough to be able to tell when someone is just blowing smoke up her ass. When scrutinizing Lexa’s words, all she gets is that she seems like one of the most genuine, down-to-earth people she’s ever met. She’s just swamped, stressed out, and working insane hours trying to fix all of the various fuck ups Titus made over the past 4 years as CEO.
Very much to her surprise, she finds herself sympathetically offering to help Lexa get some things sorted out. And again to her surprise, she finds that she doesn’t mind staying and working in Lexa’s office with her, spending time helping her delegate work to other departments and creating a realistic timetable for the next few weeks with attainable goals. Clarke tells funny stories about some of the department heads as they work and Lexa spills secrets about the board members she works with after swearing Clarke to secrecy.
She doesn’t even realize how much time has gone by until Lexa glances at the clock on the wall and looks at her from across her desk, stricken. “You should go home. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it’s already after 7. Thank you for all of your help, you really didn’t have to do all of this.”
Clarke didn’t have to. She definitely did not expect to want to when she had sullenly ridden in the elevator up here. Raven probably thinks she got herself kicked out of the 5th-floor window since she never came back to her cubicle. But now she finds herself reluctant to leave, especially knowing that Lexa will likely be here all night continuing to work.
“Did you have dinner yet?”
Lexa looks up from her computer screen slowly. “I haven’t.”
"You just moved here, right? Have you been to Tomatoes yet?"
"I haven't," Lexa says again.
"It's a little hole-in-the-wall spot. Kind of…lackluster, but their tacos are to die for and the bartender is awesome. Would you want to go?"
"Now?" Lexa asks, pointedly surveying her desk that is, despite having been organized, still loaded with paperwork to be sorted through.
"Yes, now. You've been here all day - I know because I've been here all day and you were here before me. Those papers will l still be here Monday." Lexa looks doubtful as she chews the inside of her lower lip. "Or tomorrow if you insist on working the weekend. But let's be done for the night. Both of us."
This is so not how Clarke thought her night would go; standing in front of Lexa, her boss, The Commander, and trying to lure her out to the bar for tacos and a drink. Genuinely hoping she'll accept because even though they've been working she's actually had the most fun she's had in a while and she's not quite ready for it to end.
Lexa looks at her thoughtfully, meeting her eyes. She glances down at her desk once more and then exhales, tossing her pen into a drawer as she shuts down her computer. She stands up and grins at Clarke as she takes her jacket off the back of her chair and shrugs it over her shoulders.
"Alright. Let's go try these tacos, then."
…
…
“You have to be kidding me.”
Lexa turns around and hits Clarke with a smug, triumphant little smile. Then looks back at her achievement, a dart nestled solidly in the red bullseye circle of the dartboard, surrounded by Clarke’s failed attempts scattered haphazardly across the board. She’d gotten it on her first try, standing several feet further back than she even had to.
“You lied to me. There’s no way you’ve never thrown a dart before.”
“Do I look like I frequent establishments that have dartboards, Clarke?” Lexa asks, quirking a brow in challenge.
No, she doesn’t. Not in the pantsuit she’s wearing, even after she shed her coat and blazer shortly after they’d arrived. One half of her shirt has come out of its tuck and the top few buttons are undone, the collar sagging open and offering the view of just a hint of collarbones on either side. Her cheeks are a little flushed from the one beer she’s had and she looks messy but somehow still put together. She’s undeniably beautiful, and she stares at Clarke expectantly waiting for some kind of comeback, unaware that Clarke can hardly think when she’s standing there looking like that. Existing in her space. Out of her comfort zone but still self-assured and confident. She’s unbelievably attractive, beyond what Clarke had even perceived when she got her first look at her earlier in the day.
She’s so screwed.
“No, you don’t,” Clarke admits with a sigh. “I’ve been trying for months to get a bullseye. You must just have some kind of natural technique with your fingers.”
Lexa opens her mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it. But Clarke’s not having any of that. “What were you about to say?” she asks. “I don’t need you to pity me, Raven kicks my ass at darts on the regular.”
Lexa doesn’t answer right away, looking at Clarke like she’s searching for something. Clarke can’t tell if she finds it but waits patiently. “It’s not appropriate,” she says after a moment.
Interest - piqued. “We aren’t at work right now,” Clarke reminds her.
“But you’re human resources, essentially,” Lexa laughs, a little nervously. “Seems like a grey area.”
“We don’t call it HR because of the negative association that’s been tied with it over the years. Like this, it makes people nervous. So yeah, I’m technically HR, but I’m not a narc. And you’re the CEO anyways.”
“Which makes it an even greyer area.”
“Lexa, come on. We’ve been having a good time, right?”
She nods. Weighs her options for just a few more seconds and then says, “I was just going to say that I’ve been told I have a natural technique with my fingers before. In…other contexts.”
It takes a second for Clarke to process and then - oh. Oh.
She’s glad she hadn’t taken another sip of her drink because she might have choked on it.
She swallows, trying to gather herself, absolutely not letting herself take a closer look at Lexa’s hands because she’s already noticed that they’re nice but she hasn’t scrutinized them beyond that. “That was extremely inappropriate, Miss Woods,” she says, calling on her stern business-woman voice that she’s perfected over years of dealing with employee relations issues.
Lexa’s eyes widen. “Clarke, I told you that I didn’t want to overstep. I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have -”
Clarke doesn’t have the heart to watch her flounder for more than a few seconds. She cuts her off. “It was inappropriate, but I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” She feigns more confidence than she feels as she puts a hand on Lexa’s knee reassuringly. A small gesture to make it so that Lexa isn’t the only one who has crossed a line tonight. Lexa looks a little shell-shocked, looking up and down between Clarke’s hand and her face enough times that it’s almost comical. Clarke squeezes her leg once and then lets go, standing up from the stool she’d been sitting on as she watched Lexa play darts. “Come on, let’s go sit at the bar. The next thing I want to make you try is their southwest egg rolls.”
She grabs Lexa’s hand like it’s no big deal at all and pulls her towards two open seats.
…
…
Clarke’s not sure that Lexa has ever eaten greasy bar finger food before but the southwest egg rolls are definitely a hit. The noises Lexa makes as she eats them tell her as much, and also do things to her. But they don’t affect her half as much as watching Lexa amicably interact with some of the old townies who are also sitting at the bar with them. It turns out Lexa knows enough about baseball to hold her own talking to Bonafide Baseball Expert Jim McDonnel and she doesn’t bat an eye when a very drunk Mary Lou bumps into her seat and then talks about her 13 cats for five minutes until the bartender mercifully calls her attention back down to the other end of the bar where her actual seat is.
Clarke feels a little bad for subjecting high-class Lexa to this place but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, when she turns to look at Clarke her eyes are bright and her smile is genuine and she says, “Thanks for showing me this place. It’s great.”
Clarke kind of adores her and her big dopey smile. And that’s a really scary thought to be having about her boss of all people but she’s rolling with it. Whatever it is between them, chemistry or connection or some other unnamed thing, it’s off the charts. And Clarke can’t take it anymore, especially knowing that the night is starting to come to a close.
Lexa is already sitting close enough that their knees are knocking together and it’s not much distance to close between their mouths at all. She doesn’t have the tact or inhibition to do it slowly, just leans in and kisses Lexa like she’s been wanting to do all night. It’s heated and languid immediately and she finds Lexa only needs a fraction of a second to adjust to her surprise before she’s kissing back, open-mouthed and hungry.
It’s stupid Jim McDonell’s hooting and hollering that breaks them apart less than a minute later, reminding them that they’re very much in public and kissing in a way that is very much not chaste.
A realization that is quickly followed by the fact that Clarke just kissed her boss. “Sorry,” she says quickly, trying to catch her breath.
Lexa holds her gaze. Licks her lips like she’s trying to taste what’s left of Clarke on them. Clarke tries not to visibly squirm in her chair as she watches, and looks back up when Lexa finally says something. “No you aren’t.”
Clarke’s alma mater would probably revoke her degree if they heard her response. “No, I’m not.” Lexa smirks, then not so subtly looks at Clarke’s mouth, desire clear in the intentness of her gaze. “Do you want to get out of here?”
When Lexa’s eyes flick up they’re darker than they were before. Heat flares in the confines of Clarke’s lower stomach and settles between her legs. “Very much so.”
Clarke’s hand flies up, flagging down the bartender to close out their tab without taking her eyes off Lexa. She tips generously and laughs when Lexa grabs her hand and tugs her hurriedly back towards the car.
On second thought, maybe she should open her big fat mouth more often.
#thanks for asking buddy!#and anon who asked for 7 too!#clexa drabble#clexa kiss prompt#clexa kisses#clexa
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coworkers to lovers w dalton <33 being his trainer at like a little coffee shop on campus and he barely catches anything you’re telling him bc he’s so heart eyes <333 he knows he’s in love when you stand up for him against a shitty customer bc “oh fuck shes kinda hot when shes all scary”
everyone - meet my new best friend (we are keeping dalton lambert alive). THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST BABE !!! this will be my first official lil blurb for dalton and i’m super excited. i hope you feel better soon ❤️🩹
w; some dude being rude to dalton but besides that - pure fluff!!
when dalton steps into the little coffee shop he has passed by on campus - his nose is being prodded by the sweet, yet bitter, smell of coffee, caramel, and a little cinnamon.
people have conversations at tables over an instrumental version of the smiths with paper and books spread out.
“dalton lambert?” his head swivels around and his eyes are met by a girl - two inches shorter than he was, curly hair, and a dark skin tone. her eyes were a piercing green.
“that’s me.” he says awkwardly, a thin lipped smile. she grins softly, sensing the nerves.
“i’m maya. you don’t have to be nervous or anything - you’re gonna be in good hands.” he only nods, blinking.
“sorry! sorry,” his eyes snap towards you, your shoulder bumping into maya’s, chest heaving out a loud huff. “my teacher, mr. daniels, had us stay back for whatever reason.”
maya snorts, motioning towards dalton. “you’re fine. but this is dalton, the guy you’re gonna be training,” your head turns and you give him a smile, nose scrunching slightly. his fingers tighten on the strap of his bag. “i gotta go though because i’m about to be late for class. can you clock me out?”
“yep! no worries!” you wave after maya, wishing her a nice day, before turning back to dalton. the smile on your face drops and so does his when he notice. “now, dalton. don’t get in my way - or we are gonna have a problem. got it?”
he gulps and nods hesitantly, hair brushing over his neck. “y…yeah. got it.”
you squint your eyes at him before busting out in a laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “sorry. i had to do that follow me!”
you turn and walk towards the door that leads behind the counter. dalton stands for a second, letting out a small breath before following behind you.
you go over everything there is to know behind the counter, explaining that once he’s there for a little longer, one of the coffee makers will teach him more about steaming milk, grounding coffee, and making little designs.
for now, he has the honors of taking people’s orders.
it was going well until nick had stepped in - dalton grips the counter slightly and his chin drops to his chest. he’d only been here a week and he can tell today, of all days, is going to be awful.
“could i get a caramel frappè?”
not a ‘hello, how are you? how was your day?’
dalton nods, pressing on the screen. “anything else?”
nicks eyes finally lower from the menu, a small smile spreading over his face - not the nice kind. “no way,” there’s a laugh that gets stuck in his throat. “dalton lambert, you would work in a café.”
dalton opens his mouth but your butting in - realizing this isn’t the first time he had an encounter with nick. “and what’s that supposed to mean?” your weight is shifted over onto one leg, hands on your hips as you tilt your head.
dalton’s head turns towards yours quickly, long lashes fluttering over his cheeks as he blinks, surprised you stepped in.
nick, seemingly caught off guard by how fast you slipped into the conversation, blinks at you, eyes flickering back and forth to you and the long haired boy who can’t look away from you. “i was just-”
“just what? wanting to make fun of someone who is actually wanting to make money instead of leeching off of their parents and friends?”
nick seems to shrink slightly at that, laughing a bit nervously when the two friends he had came in with gives him a questioning look.
“dalton here,” your hand lands on his shoulder and he stiffens slightly, heart speeding up. “wants to work hard for what he wants and you will not give him a hard time for that anymore, got it?” your brows lift, chin tilting down slightly with a stern look.
nick clears his throat, fixing the letterman jacket he had gotten from high school football. “let’s go, guys.” he turns, walking out of the café with red cheeks of embarrassment.
you pull your hand from dalton’s shoulder. “sorry for touching you if you don’t like being touched. and butting up. i could just tell you let him say stuff to you and you weren’t going to say anything.”
dalton’s lips upturn slightly, a small laugh leaving his throat. “you seem to know a little about me already and i’ve only been here a week.”
you smile, nose tilting up in the air slightly as you rock on your heels. “i pay attention to things i like, lambert. and you’re one of them.”
he’s left speechless when you walk away, head turning over your shoulder as you send him another smile that he wants to draw.
maybe he’s found another muse.
#cherry writes ✿#dalton lambert x fem!reader#dalton lambert x reader#dalton lambert imagine#dalton lambert fluff#ty simpkins x reader
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disco elysium cards against humanity cards
with credit to @orang3lover . i saw ur post and went crazy. this is by far not a complete list and if anyone has any suggestions i would absolutely love them im making an online deck right now lol. theyre under the cut
BLACK CARDS
Dios Mío! ______!
The RCM recently incorporated _____ _ in order to boost morale
What’s your favorite Dick Mullen book? Mine is Dick Mullen and the case of _______
What’s your favorite Man from Hjelmdall book? Mine is Man from Hjelmdall and ______
______? Cuno doesn’t fucking care!
______? Now THAT shit Cuno can get into!
Neha is branching out of her dice making business and also partaking in _______
Mack and Chester’s latest fuck up this week involved three things: _____, ______, and _______.
You can’t hear anal beads, but the sound of _____ is unmistakeable.
The newest hit SPEEDFREAKS FM single apparently drew inspiration from _____ and _____.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY- You know what would make this even sexier? _______!
If your Authority level is high enough, you can get Kim Kitsuragi to engage in ______
Something beautiful is going to happen: _____
Normally when you fail a red check, it’s bad, but if it’s about _____, then you’re fucked.
[EMPATHY:FAILURE] Sylvie probably left the whirling because of ____!
INLAND EMPIRE- DETECTIVE ESPRIT DE CORPS- _____ AUTHORITY- ON THE SCENE
SAVOIR FAIRE- _____- for the money, baby.
When Trant starts talking about _____, you know you’re gonna be in for a long lecture.
Harry’s Latest thought project is about _____.
Harry’s latest thought project is about the intersection between ______ and _______.
Idiot doom spiral’s latest hustle has to do with _____, _______, and _______- and you think you should invest.
The most important part of being a communist is ______
RHETORIC - The reek of communism is unmistakable, and it's coming from... (blank)!
"RHETORIC - Alright, here we go. We're devoting all your available brain cells to coming up with a question about communism. Scratch that, to coming up with *the* question about communism, the alpha and omega of communism questions, and that question is: is ____ bourgeois?"
what finally made kim break his one cigarette a day rule? ________
A new thought has entered your cabinet- the inexplicable _____ agenda
What’s behind the curse of the doomed commercial area?
The graffito idea Cindy’s been waiting for:
____ is HARDCORE
_____ + ______ = _______
Plaisance’s latest Supra-natural worry is about ______
CUNO- _____-shit. ______-style!
KIM KITSURAGI- Detective, when you are done with _____, we need to get back to the case.
THE HANGED MAN- It was _____ that did me in, coppo
EVRART CLAIRE- Do you think I would wast your time and distract you from your case with _____? Please, I’m a busy man, Harry!
KIM KITSURAGI- Sunrise, _____.
KIM KITSURAGI- What is it they say about ties? That they’re like ______…
YOU- Don’t be scared, but I think I have supra-natural abilities. KIM KITSURAGI- Which school do you subscribe to? _____ or _____?
How did Kim get so cool?
MEASUREHEAD- _____ BETRAYS YOUR DEGENERACY
KIM KITSURAGI- Yeah, drugs. Shit. ____ . We don’t care.
WHITE CARDS
A wild cocktail of pyhrrodon, speed, and medicinal spirits
The insulindian phasmid
Disco, baby!
The homosexual underground’s lowest level
A horrific necktie encouraging you to relapse
Working out like you’ve got the devil on your back
A shitty cosplay of your ex-coworker
The jamrock Shuffle
A 12-year old that calls you slurs
Dolores Dei’s left labia
Telling the whores and liars of the world that there are 9,855 days remaining
The forbidden 8th copotype-
Masturbating in a public bookstore
A leopard print bodysuit that awakens something in you
Pigs and wheat
A crypto fascist that’s definitely not wearing anal beads right now
The inexplicable urge to yell “YEEEAAAAAGH”
Age inappropriate dancing
Rampant and frankly apocalyptic levels of alcoholism
Getting double teamed by your ancient reptilian brain and limbic system
24 voices yelling at you all at once
A Kim Kitsuragi kink
Communism!
A breakup you’re still thinking about 6 years later.
Being a Pissfaggot
That dope, man! The smack! The D!
Auto-erotic asphyxiation
A stuffed lamb that restores a morale point
A chair so uncomfortable it fucking kills you
Waltershlong
Three little piggies in a boat
Being a naampanki idiot
Collecting tare instead of solving a murder
A mural that says “I LOVE YOU CUNO”
Franconigerian hard-body
A beer in one hand a tit in the other
Contact Mike
Being so fucking normal.
Cock carousel. Cock carousel. Cock carousel.
Mr Evrart is helping me find my gun.
The Might of The Eyebrow
Fascism- no, traditionalism.
A three meter-tall semenese supremacist.
Keeping your eyes on the ball, dinky winky.
Monica’s titties
Aligning your sines
A crab-man that lives in a church.
The 2 mm hole in the world
Saying fuck the police even though you are the police.
A horse-faced woman
0.0002% of communism
Making fun of other communists
Moralist freaks
Women. Men of wö.
An inexplicable feminist agenda
Jean Vicquemare’s unending wrath
The expression
Guilliame de Million
Inframaterialism
The subsumption of everything into capitalism
The death of disco
A lawyer that could also be a model, if she wanted to
A vehement and decades-long hatred of pinball
Getting in touch with your body
Licking rum off a cafeteria table
The Ham Sandwich Race
An ice-cop-hat-fuck show
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Soft (Adrian Chase x reader)
request: Hi! You write my favorite Vigilante smut fics. Can I request something with soft dom Adrian? Like the reader had a bad day or messed up and feels guilty and they’re urging Adrian to be rough like he usually is but he’s like ‘I know that’s not what you need what right now’ and fucks them slowly and lovingly and takes care of them while being in control. I hope that made sense, I really love your writing for him.
AHH I love this!!
Masterlist
Warnings: soft dom Adrian, oral (fem receiving), p in v, soft sex, slight overstimulation, after care to the extreme, cursing, mentions of violence, body worship, mentions of insecurities
Today had been a rough day.
Everyone has bad days, but today had been a day where you weren’t even sure if seeing Adrian would make you feel better. You knew though that you needed him.
The day started off like usual. You woke up gave Adrian a goodbye kiss and headed off to work. Only to forget your wallet at home.
No big deal. You had some cash on you to last you for the day. Just for it to fall out of your pocket at some point leaving you penniless for lunch.
So you were hungry and stressed to reach the deadline your boss had decided to throw on you.
Right as you were about to finish the power in the entire building went out making you lose your progress.
Because you didn’t reach your deadline, your boss decided to yell and humiliate you in front of all your coworkers. He called you useless and pretty much told the whole office how you were lazy.
What struck a nerve was him saying you were a hopeless mess and that he hopes someone finds you attractive enough since you don’t have the smarts or the looks.
Needless to say today was a rough day. You felt like crap mentally and you were ready to have Adrian tire you out. As bad as it was, you wanted him to break you in bed.
Adrian had been humming a small tune while washing the dishes when you came home. You didn’t hesitate to make a beeline straight for him.
He jumped feeling arms wrap around his waist before relaxing grinning once he realized it was you.
“Hello to you too.” You stood silent rubbing your nose against his back. “You okay there buddy?
Adrian turned around chuckling a bit as you groaned before nuzzling your face deep in his chest. He grew worried though when you still didn’t say anything.
“Hey are you actually okay?” You shook your head sniffling a bit.
“Yeah sorry..I just missed you is all.” Adrian brushed your hair our of your face kissing the top of your head softly.
“You sure that’s all of it?” You nodded kissing him softly.
“Yeah I’m sure..just hold me for a bit please?” Adrian nodded turning the sink off gently guiding you to the bedroom. You curled into him sighing in content.
He smiled feeling his chest swell with pride that you felt safe around him. You considered him your safe space. Just like how he considered you his.
“I had a really shitty day..I’m sorry I know you were washing dishes-” Adrian kissed you to silence you.
“Shut up. Nothing is more important to me than you. Those stupid dishes can wait.”
You kissed Adrian again more deeply this time. Adrian cradled your face moving to lay on top of you. He kept kissing you grinning when you’d whine anytime he pulled away.
“Stop pulling away..Just kiss me please.” Adrian kissed the corner of your mouth teasing you. You thrusted your hips up whining as he groaned against you.
“What do you need? Tell me?..”
“I need you to help me forget the day. Use me Adrian please? Just fuck me.”
Adrian pulled away a bit worriedly. “Hey you okay?”
“You asked me that earlier I’m fine. I just was embarrassed at work and had a really really bad day and it was my fault most of the stuff happened. I failed today so I just wanna be fucked to sleep to forget about all of it.”
Adrian sighed shaking his head. “Yeah I’m not gonna do that.”
You whined growing teary eyed, “Is it me-”
“No it’s not you. I’m not gonna fuck you just so you fall asleep. I can see that’s not what you need right now.”
“But I do please? Just bend me over and roughly fuck me deeply.” Adrian shook his head with a smile kissing you once more.
“I know that’s not gonna make you feel better. If I’m as rough as I usually am you’re gonna end up feeling worse. My girl doesn’t feel the best about herself right now huh?”
“I don’t..I feel bad..about everything..I just feel like a failure and I feel ugly. My boss said I was ugly and dumb in front of everyone and I shouldn’t let what he said get to me but it did..”
“You are far from a failure though. You’re my everything..You’re beautiful and smart. I may not be good with people and their emotions, but I try for you. You make me wanna try to understand better.” He smiled kissing you again.
“And as for your boss. I will make sure to pay him a visit later.”
You smiled a bit feeling slightly better. “You don’t have to do that Adrian he was kinda right-”
“No he was not. Nothing he said about you was true. I won’t let you believe that useless trash for a second.” You grinned widely kissing him once more.
“There’s that smile..I was hoping I wouldn’t have to pull out my minions impression to get you to smile.”
You chuckled before asking Adrian, “So you won’t fuck me?”
“No I’m not gonna fuck you, but I will make you feel really really good if you’ll let me?”
“I will...”
Adrian hummed sitting up to help you remove your clothes. “Let me see you.”
You grew flustered as he stared down at you. “Wow..You’re fucking hot.”
“Adrian!”
“You are! Fuck me everything about you is hot. Your tits and ass god..I fucking love to eat you out. If you’d let me I’d do it all day.”
You rolled your eyes as he grinned kissing you again moving down to your shoulders. You moaned as he nipped your collarbone leaving his marks.
“I have to hide those for work-”
“You hide these I’m just gonna make more.” Before you could protest, Adrian wrapped his lips around one of your nipples.
Whimpering you gripped his head as he pulled away softly blowing air on it before moving to the other one.
“So pretty..Such a fucking pretty girl..and all mine.”
“Yours..”
“Yeah all mine. I fucking hate that you were sad..I hate whatever made you sad..Someone as nice and good as you doesn’t deserve to feel crappy.”
You gasped as he kissed a line down your stomach massaging your hips gently. “Will you let me make you feel good?”
You nodded wordlessly. Adrian kissed your thighs shaking his head. “You know I need words.”
“Yes please..” Adrian grinned throwing a leg over his shoulder. He nipped your inner thigh playfully before gently licking your slit.
“Fuck me taste so good..I’m so lucky..” He moaned using his tongue to scoop more of your juices in his mouth. You moaned thrusting in his face.
Adrian gently held you down shaking his head. “No baby..Let me make you feel good..Gotta be patient.”
You thrashed a bit as he sucked your clit in his mouth happily slurping. More of your juices leaked out dripping onto your thighs and the sheets.
“Look how wet you are...” He ran his fingers through your folds sitting up to kiss you again. He was being gentle and slow.
He moved back down eating you out slow but sloppily. You thrusted against his mouth feeling overwhelmed. You wanted more but were also feeling good.
“Adrian..” You whined grasping his hair. He smiled sucking your clit using his fingers to tease your entrance. You cried out as he pushed two in thrusting them at a leisurely pace.
“I’m gonna..”
He pulled for a second panting heavily. “Cum. Cum for me Y/N..”
You thrashed a bit cumming in his eagerly awaiting mouth. Panting you laid there feeling messy crying out when Adrian continued lapping at you.
Adrian groaned removing his fingers to lick you clean. He sat up sucking on his fingers smiling as you stared at him teary eyed.
You reached your hands out for him smiling. “Kiss me please?”
“Anything you want..” He kissed you before beginning to remove his clothes. You helped him undress laughing as he yelped when you poked his ribs.
“Behave.” You grinned kissing his chest once he was fully undressed. Adrian wrapped his arms around you turning you around so your back was to his chest.
His hands massaged your arms tensing up as you ground against him. Adrian moaned feeling his cock throb when your ass brushed against him. He moved his hand down groping your chest while using his other to move between your legs.
“Adrian..” You began to pant again as he kissed your neck humming. “I thought we were gonna..”
“We are be patient Y/N..I’m gonna take good care of you, but I gotta make sure your sweet pussy can take me. I’m gonna stretch you out first.”
You moaned this time as he slipped two fingers in again using the palm of his hand to rub your clit.
“Feel good?” You nodded as Adrian laughed.
“Aww...can’t speak?” You whined as he thrusted his fingers in scissoring them.
“Adrian..I’m sensitive still from..from..Oh fuck!!” He nipped your neck sucking small marks.
“I think you’re stretched enough now huh?”
“Yes! yes I am!! Please! Oh fuck fuck! I’m gonna cum again..”
“So fucking pretty..Every time you cum it’s like watching a movie..but..I’m gonna need you to do me a favor..”
He slowed down chuckling a bit as you whined. “I’m sorry I need you to tell me you’re beautiful.”
“Adrian!”
“You said you felt ugly and you are not..You’re fucking breathtaking and I consider myself so incredibly lucky I got you to agree to be with me. So say it.”
“I’m-I’m...”
“You can say it Y/N..come on now..”
“I’m beautiful.” Adrian grinned resuming his pace.
“Again.”
“I’m beautiful. I’m so beautiful..” You cried out as you came against his hand. Adrian hummed having you ride it out slowly before laying you gently.
“Please please..Adrian fuck me! Please..I want you please..”
Adrian nodded quickly reassuring you. “I am going to fuck you Y/N..Gonna make my girl feel so good..”
You gasped as his tip pushed against your entrance. Adrian cried out as he pushed himself in all the way. You grabbed his hand needing to feel him.
Adrian nodded gripping your hand back tightly. “I got you..I have you..” It felt like your first time all over again.
He slowly began to move moaning out as you wrapped your legs around him. You kissed his neck leaving small marks of your own as Adrian thrusted slow but deep inside of you.
“So good..Fuck feel so good..”
“I feel good..” You whimpered out feeling the base of his cock grind against your clit. Adrian grinned at your words.
“This is what I wanted..I wanted to make you feel g-good..” He whimpered hiding his face in your neck.
“Say it again.” Your eyes grew teary as he kissed your neck before moving to your lips.
“Say you’re beautiful for me..cause you are..”
“I..I can’t..”
“Yes you can..God you’re so fucking beautiful Y/N..come on you can do it.”
“I’m beautiful..” Adrian smiled as you cried out once he hit a certain spot.
“There we go..Again..”
“I’m beautiful! Fuck!! Right there!!”
“Keep going..” He sped up a slight bit panting as he stared into your eyes.
“I’m beautiful Adrian..I’m pretty and beautiful.” You moaned feeling tears fall from eyes. Adrian grinned kissing them away.
“My fucking girl. This beautiful girl is all fucking mine..” You nodded feeling your releasing coming.
“I’m close again..” Adrian nodded, “I am too.”
You both moaned out together gripping his hand tighter. Adrian kissed you deeply pushing his tongue in.
“FUCK!” You pulled away throwing your head back as he hit that spot directly. His cock began to unknowingly abuse it. You whimpered muttering to yourself.
Adrian panted softly turning your head to look at him. “Say it one last time and cum for me Y/N..”
“Adrian!” You moaned his name feeling overwhelmed. The sound of his hips snapping against yours brought you closer.
“Come on pretty girl one more time..”
“I’m beautiful! I’m so fucking beautiful!!” Adrian moaned as you came around him. He hid his face in your neck praising you.
“Did such a good job. Fuck my girl is so good. I got you..I promise I will always have your back.”
You nodded kissing him as he came deep inside of you. Adrian and you both shook feeling overwhelmed. He gently pulled out of you kissing you once more moving all over your face.
“So pretty..thank you Y/N..Thank you..”
“Thank you Adrian..Thank you..” You smiled feeling content. Adrian pulled away helping you sit up. He groaned a bit seeing his cum leak out of your cunt.
“Did I take care of you?”
“Yeah you did...it felt really good Adrian..” He nodded kissing your forehead.
“I’ll always take care of you in whatever you need.” You laughed as he jabbed your ribs. Adrian grabbed you a glass of water making you drink half of it before carrying you off to the restroom.
He waited for you to do your ‘business’ before entering again. You grinned sleepily as he turned the bath on pulling out your favorite bath salts.
“I was thinking lavender.” You nodded kissing his cheek. Adrian set the bath tub up settling you in before moving behind you. You hummed as he scrubbed your clean letting you rest against him.
Adrian grinned seeing you begin to doze off. “Hey come on let’s rinse you off and get you to bed.”
“No..I wanna scrub you too..You deserve to be taken care of too Adrian..” He laughed a bit as you gave him a tired determined look.
“Be my guest.” You nodded scrubbing half of his body before slowing down laying your head back down against him. Adrian chuckled rinsing you both off before taking you to the bedroom.
You sleepily kissed his forehead as he helped you step into your underwear. Wanting to help him too, you grabbed his boxers for him. Adrian took them putting them on thanking you.
“I love you..” He grinned hearing your sleepily proclamation.
“I love you too..” Adrian nuzzled your face while slipping his shirt on you. You yawned as he settled you into bed. He didn’t even have to pull you to him. The second he got into bed you immediately crawled to him.
“I’m cold..”
“I got you..I always do..” You smiled happily.
“Can we get pizza later?..I haven’t eaten much today..”
“Why didn’t you say so sooner? I’ll order it right now so it’ll come when we awake from our nap.”
“You’re the best. My boyfriend is the best.”
“That’s how I feel about you...” He whispered smirking softly as you fell asleep against him.
#adrian chase#fanfiction#adrian chase x reader#vigilante fanfiction#adrian chase x you#vigilante x reader#vigilante peacemaker#peacemaker#fanfic#adrian chase peacemaker#adrian chase smut
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Thank you. Grab a cup of tea, this is so silly but I just need to tell someone, and I don't want to worry my friends. I've been... I'm not sure if bullied is the right term, but some people at work have been pretty mean to me these past months. It got really bad a few weeks ago, bad enough that I broke down and cried with my boss because it's just insidious enough that you can't act right away, it's small things, like lying about my schedule to make me look bad, tell me lies so I look stupid in presentations in front of people (I'll definitely exorcise all of this in a fic one day). My boss kept telling me he thought it was just honest mistakes from them, but he would talk to them and I think it worked to an extend. Except today was the Christmas party (God I sound like a bad Netflix movie). I helped them. We had to be dressed up in silly costumes so I did it. And was basically excluded from the whole thing. A few people from other services came to tell me they felt a little bad for me. And while I don't really care (this is just stupid work stuff) it's just so mean spirited it's getting to me tonight. They did the same thing to another guy (one of my friends) months ago. And tonight while it was happening I was thinking "oh yeah. it's my turn now". It makes me sad because now everyone just know something is wrong. Everyone want to ask me if I'm okay. And I want to pretend I am, because again, this is silly, but at the same time I want to be honest. It hurts being excluded. It sucks knowing this is just because these people don't like me "because I'm too nice, boring and don't fit in" (their words). I don't celebrate Christmas with my family anymore so this was the only time I could pretend to be normal and well. Now if I say something I'm the bad guy who's blowing this out of proportion. So I'll keep smiling and telling people I'm okay with this. But it sucks. Oh, and I ranted enough so I'll stop here but they did the same for my birthday. Told me they organized a party for me and long story short, there was no party when I showed up. I'm sad. That's it. I'm just sad.
Bestie your coworkers sound like awful people first of all. SECOND I am SO sorry you’re going through this ☹️🫶 aren’t work politics just the fucking worst?? In early college I worked at a clothing store and the people there just did NOT fw me in the slightest and there was one girl in particular who would constantly make jokes about how she was annoyed when we got scheduled together or when I would ask for help on things I didn’t know how to do. I think I left crying nearly every single day that I worked there, but it was just also this feeling of WHYYY are you treating me like this? Like what on earth do you gain by being a shitty person to a colleague??
I’m sorry they excluded you from the Christmas party, that’s supposed to be a fun time and it’s so insidious to gang up on you like that. I would’ve cried to my boss too! But I think what you’re doing right now is the best thing you can do- persist and smile through it. Don’t give them the reaction they want, at least not in front of them. Your personality will get you just about anywhere these days, and the more you can build on your strength of putting up with shitty people, the more you can use that skill to get you even further than they are in life. They’ll just be stuck being miserable pieces of shit who find joy in bullying others (yes that’s literally bullying) and YOU will be the bigger person who learned how to live through it and tell the tale. Keep your head up, these people aren’t worth a second of your spare thoughts or your tears!!! And if you’re ever around them and they’re being pieces of shit you can always message me on here and we will talk shit about them in real time. OKAY? Okay. I love u. And you deserve better!! Rooting for you always and I have your back even if it’s through a little phone screen. Fuck them fr 🚮
Sending you all my love!!!!!! 🫶🫶🫶☹️💓❤️❤️❤️
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The Happiness We Deserve
Chapter 7
Read it here on ao3
Rated E | 1k (11.6k total)
CW: None for this chapter
Jay stops by while Ian is still over
Chapter 1
I posted this yesterday and forgot to post it here too. Oops. 😅
An hour and a shared bowl later, they were pleasantly high and relaxed further into the couch. It was nice, sitting there with Ian and talking about everything and nothing. Ian told him about his cat, about his coworkers, about living in the city. Mickey told him about the Alibi and about his time in prison.
They ended up talking about Ian’s family, too. Ian listened eagerly as Mickey told him little stories about his nieces and nephews, embarrassing things about his siblings, things he did and didn’t like about their partners.
Everything seemed to click into place. They slipped back into a comfortable atmosphere. It may have been the beers or the weed, but Mickey was enjoying the evening.
They did not talk about their past beyond sharing a few remembered stories from childhood. They didn’t talk about how things were left between them; how their last real conversation had been while Ian was sick, how he had broken Mickey’s heart that day, or how he stopped visiting. They didn’t talk about the fact that he’d left without saying goodbye to anyone. Not just Mickey, but Lip and Liam and Carl and Debbie.
And that was okay. Mickey was fine with that. He didn’t want to bring up the shitty stuff; he wanted to enjoy laughing and talking with a friend that he hadn’t seen in a long time.
It was okay and Mickey was fine with moving on.
But that was a lie.
Because really, he wanted to scream and yell. He wanted to curse Ian for leaving things the way he did. He wanted to ask how he could do that, wanted to know if what he said he’d felt for Mickey were lies. How else could he have let him go so easily? He wanted to know if everything they’d gone through together had fucked him up as much as it had fucked up Mickey.
He wanted to know if maybe, maybe, Ian had lingering doubts. If maybe his heart still yearned for-
But Mickey wasn’t going to allow himself to dwell on any of that.
Instead, he smiled, and nodded, and laughed as Ian told him about his life. The one he lived apart from Mickey.
Mickey was finishing off their second bowl when the door to his apartment unlocked and swung open.
Jay appeared in the doorway, still dressed in his suit from work, with his overnight bag slung over one shoulder. His nose scrunched as he smelled the weed. “Mickey,” he said with a sigh, closing the door and locking it, “you know I don’t like it when-”
He turned around and cut himself off with a small, “oh.”
Ian looked about as startled as Mickey felt. His wild eyes darted to Mickey briefly before looking back to Jay, offering him a little wave. “Uh,” he said, “sorry.”
“I didn’t know he’d still be here,” Jay said stiffly.
“I didn’t know you’d be comin’ by,” Mickey said, feeling a little annoyed. He knew that was unfair; Jay had a key and an open invitation.
“Yeah, well. I texted you when I left the office. I took the morning off tomorrow, so I figured we could…” He trailed off with a wave of his hand, but didn’t put down his bag or remove his jacket. “But if you’re busy-”
“No,” Ian said with a firm shake of his head, “I’m not staying much longer.” He looked down at his watch. “I should actually be getting back to the hotel. Doug will be waiting up for me.” It was a lie; he’d already told Mickey that Doug had gone to bed before he’d even come over. The model had a ridiculously early call time and needed rest. Mickey wanted to call Ian out on it, but he held his tongue.
“It was good to see you,” Jay said before Ian had even moved from the couch. With a clearly annoyed glance at Mickey, Jay disappeared into the bedroom. The door shut with a soft click.
“Um,” Ian said, laughing nervously and rubbing his thighs with his hands, “I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“I know he doesn’t,” Mickey said with a snort. “But that’s okay. Makes sense, after all.” He should have stopped talking, but he was high and his mouth was moving before his brain could even process the words. “It’s not often that your boyfriend is visited by the one who got away.”
They both froze. The room was completely silent for a moment, before Ian cleared his throat. “The what?”
“Nothin’,” Mickey said quickly, setting the bong on the coffee table and standing from the couch. “I didn’t say nothin’, and you didn’t-”
“It’s okay, Mick,” Ian interrupted. His voice was strained, like it physically hurt him to say the next words. “You got away from me, too.”
Emotion rushed through Mickey. Anger, confusion, desperation, sadness. I didn’t go anywhere, he wanted to shout, you could have had me if you’d just stayed.
He swallowed it all down, clenching his fists as Ian rose from the couch. “I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. Opening it, he saw that he did, in fact, have a missed call and three new texts from Jay.
Ian’s hand fell on his arm, warm and rough. Just like everything else about this older version of Ian, it was both foreign and familiar. Mickey made the mistake of looking up. Ian was so close.
His eyes were intense. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and his brow creased for a moment. “Mickey.”
Mickey felt his face flush and his eyes sting with the familiar feel of unshed tears. “Ian.” His voice shook.
Ian darted forward and Mickey’s breath stopped as his warm mouth landed on his cheek. “Thanks for tonight,” Ian murmured against his skin. And then he was gone, leaving Mickey standing in the middle of his apartment with one hand clenched around his phone and the other pressed to his cheek.
Mickey wiped angrily at his eyes and stomped over to his door, locking it behind Ian. Then he went to his bedroom, standing in front of the door and taking a few deep, measured breaths before pushing it open.
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And I’m not even an Elite girly or whatever. Everyone knows I’m Team Best Friends. And I was a HUGE Punk fan from back in the day.
And I'm gonna rant a little. Or a lot. But I'm gonna put it under a cut because I know many won't care and I don't expect them to. I'm not even going to tag it. I just wanna use this like I used to use tumblr back in the beginning times - like a journal to vomit words all over.
Look, I’m just some bitch who has a lot of experience with people of all personalities. I’m almost 38 years old, have been working legit tax-paying jobs since the age of 14, 85% of which have been positions where I deal directly with the public. I think it’s not hyperbole to say that in 24 years I have learned how to spot a fucking asshole from 15 miles away, both with customers and coworkers. It makes the job so much worse.
Especially when one of the employees is that guy who wants everyone to think he’s the hardest dude around so badly but then fails to realize that nobody gives a shit. It’s a stunted 16 year old mindset coming from a 40-something year old man. And it’s not like this whole situation was an anomaly. He has a clear history of this kinda shit. He’s gonna do something shitty again, it’s just a matter of time.
And yet, here he is. Why? Because he can draw? Okay. Yeah, sure he will sell merch and tickets or whatever. But is that worth it if it results in a big chunk of your employees being unhappy? Will it be worth it when the people who have been there from the jump - the ones who carried the shit through the pandemic, the ones who went along with shit fucking booking - don’t renew their contracts? Will it be worth it when the toxic situation drives away the FANS who have been there from the jump?
I've been a wrestling fan for nearly 30 goddamn years, I am well aware there has always been real beefs and shit between people. That shit was just never as transparent as it is now. Social media, the fact that kayfabe doesn't really exist anymore (which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I digress) leads to this kinda shit.
Like. I just wanna watch fucking wrestling.
I wanna be taken out of the reality of everyday life. I wanna make silly jokes about gear or promos or dumb storylines. I don't want to have to sit and watch and wonder if every single line in a promo is a subtle jab at someone else, if someone is 'shootin' on someone else, oh no! who's gonna be mad, what will the dirt sheets say?
All of the attention is taken away from the performances and the talent busting their ass, literally breaking their bodies for fans. It's fucking selfish.
I just wanna watch wrestling.
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I just finished my shift at work and I told my family this story and maybe it’s because I’m fucked up but the worst thing I’ve ever heard was said during my shift and like no one is reacting
So one of my coworkers was going on break and she asked me to cover the dressing room for her break so I did and like halfway through, this mom and two daughters are trying shit on. And I wasn’t really listening for most of it, but towards the end I heard the mom say:
“Maybe you should look for clothes in the maternity section. It will probably fit you better”
When I say I was shocked. That doesn’t even begin to describe. Not that it even matters, but this girl wasn’t even big. She was a very ideal, healthy weight for her height. You couldn’t ask for a more ideal body. And this absolute shithole motherfucker of a mother says that. It’s not like she said the clothes don’t fit her well, it’s not even flat out saying I think you look big which is bad, she had to think of this comment. This is a comment that takes a moment to understand. That is something you have to think about. So there’s no excuse that it just slipped out of the mom’s mouth. Her mind either genuinely thought that or was taking time to think of insults for her perfectly healthy daughter. And you have to be one sick mf to not only think of a statement like that, but fucking say it. The daughter cried when the mom left. I don’t blame her. I saw this girl. She was in her mid teens.
I told my parents about this and they were like wow that’s shitty, but I’m like blown away by this. Yeah it’s partly because it hits close to home as I have an eating disorder, but I can’t imagine, as someone who doesn’t want to be a mother, saying a comment like that to my daughter. This genuinely shook me to the core
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Pins and patches hurt/comfort
“Hey.” Michael called, pausing his show as Jake came in. “How was lunch?”
“Good!” Jake called from the kitchen. He opened the fridge to sink his leftovers inside. “How was your day watching my TV?” Jake teased. He was no stranger to Michael being in his apartment before he left for plans or work and still being there when he got back.
“Lovely. You know, my electric bill has plummeted since we started dating.”
“And mine has doubled.” Jake snorted.
“Hey.” Michael got off the couch and leaned against the counter. “Idea. What if next time you did lunch with your friends… I came with?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Jake said, not looking at him. “We’ll have to see.”
Michael inched closer. “Okay. It’s just that we’ve been dating for seven months and you’ve met my friends. And you’re always talking about how people bring their partners so I don’t get why you haven’t brought me.”
“It just hasn’t come up.” Jake shrugged.
Michael looked at him. “Do they not ask about me?”
Jake was quiet. Michael’s stomach dropped.
“Do they not know about me?”
Jake sighed. “They do know I’m dating someone.”
“Do they know anything about me? Do they know my fucking name?” He didn’t wait for Jake to not answer again. “Is it because I’m a guy?”
“No.” Jake said quickly. “That’s not it. They don’t care about that.”
“So there is something though.”
“No.”
“Just tell me. Why don’t you want your friends to meet me?”
“You’re just different than them!” Jake threw his hands up.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that-they’re like me. You know? They were all athletes in high school. Or still are. And they hung out with… the kind of people I did. And you were-“ He whirled around and then stopped suddenly.
Michael was looking at him, calmly. “I was what?”
“I didn’t mean-“
“A loser? Right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Michael nodded. “You know, I spent four years with my best friend being obsessed with high school politics. Obsessed with being popular and what that meant. Obsessed with who was ‘allowed’ to talk to who. Obsessed over every thing he did because of how it looked to people like you. No, not even people like you. You. Jake Dillinger.” He shrugged. “I’m twenty years old Jake. I can’t waste more of my time with someone who still cares about where I sat at lunch in fucking high school.”
“I don’t care about that.” Jake said softly, but Michael was already walking toward the door. “Michael. Wait.”
The door shut gently. He didn’t even slam it.
“What did those hangers do to you?” Zoe asked.
They’d been coworkers for a few months now. She was the only person in this shitty department store that Michael respected.
He stopped slamming hangers onto the floor. “Sorry. Bad day.”
“I see that.” She leaned against the table he was folding clothes on. “Well, maybe it’ll turn around. Your boyfriend’s here.”
“I don’t want to see him.” Michael grumbled.
“Well he looks pretty determined.” Zoe tilted her head. “He’s got a whole posse with him.”
“What?” Michael looked up and saw Jake with a bunch of people he only recognized from photographs. “What is happening?”
“Michael.” Jake said, he gestured to each of the people behind him one by one. “This is Mark, Roger, Leah, Kay, Todd, and Raphael.”
They all waved, looking confused but vaguely supportive of whatever mission Jake was on.
“Guys, this is Michael. He’s my boyfriend, I hope.” Jake looked at his friends. “Michael is a nerd. He’s really into vintage video games. I had to talk him down from buying a Pac-Man machine two months ago because we had no way to get it to his apartment. He’s also really into old slasher movies. He likes books about magic. His favorite food is lumpia but only the way his mom makes it. He says he does it wrong. He uses peach scented shampoo.” He turned toward Michael. “I’m in love with him. And I’m also an asshole so he might not be in love with me. But I hope he is. And I hope when he gets off work, he’ll come to happy hour at Riley’s down the street with us. And now I’m going to leave so I don’t pressure-“
He was interrupted by Michael grabbing his shirt and kissing him.
“You are an asshole.” Michael said, holding Jake’s fingers. “But I do love you.” Then he dropped Jake’s hands. “But I’m also at work so go away.”
“Okay.” Jake grinned. “And you’ll come with us after?”
“Yes.”
Jake checked the time. “Two hours, right?”
“Yes.” Michael kissed him again.
Jake backed away, holding Michael’s hand until he had to let it drop. His eyes shifted to Zoe who was still leaning against the table, doing nothing.
“You can come too Zoe.”
“Cool.” She nodded.
The bar was fun. Jake was right, his friends were all just like him. Michael liked Roger and Kay. And Mark’s girlfriend was cool. But what he really liked was sitting at a table with Jake’s arm on the back of his chair. He liked when they all laughed and Jake pulled him a little closer. He liked Jake’s friends all asking Michael questions about him, like he was some sort of expert on Jake Dillinger.
“What did you think of them?” Jake asked, as Michael followed him through the door.
“They’re nice. Roger is funny.”
“Yeah.” Jake caught Michael’s arm before he could fling himself onto the couch. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Michael smiled. “Your grand romantic gesture made up for it.”
“I want to say it.” Jake insisted. “I’m sorry I didn’t want my friends to meet you. I had this stupid, very immature, idea that they’d make fun of you and me for liking you. Not to your face but after you left. And I’d be stuck between you and them. And honestly?” He was crushing Michael’s hands like he thought he might leave. “I wasn’t sure I would stand up for you. And I didn’t want to find out if I was right.”
Michael stood on his toes and kissed Jake. “You declared your love for me in front of a whole department store and your friends who’ve never met me.” He smiled. “I think it’s safe to say you would’ve stood up for me.”
Jake relaxed his grip. “I’d like to think that but I don’t know. I love you. That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”
“That’s almost too mushy.” Michael teased. “Don’t be gross.”
“I love you!” Jake yelled, wrapping his arms around Michael and squeezing him. “I am in love with you!”
Michael laughed, pretending to push Jake away. “Okay! I love you too! Release me!”
Jake did, but Michael didn’t move very far back. “Movie?”
“Yes.” Michael went to make popcorn. It didn’t need to be discussed.
When he made it back to the couch, Jake pulled him close. Michael settled into his place at Jake’s side.
“I’m glad you didn’t give up on me.” Michael said quietly.
Jake kissed the top of his head. “Don’t think I could if I tried.”
#this was an idea I had in my head that I could never make into a full fic#So I just made it a ficlet#fuck it! post random mini fics!#bmc#pins and patches#my writing
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Yknow with the fact that everyone my age is like “ah fuck we’re in a recession and the housing market might crash soon” and that General Air, I’ve kinda accepted it might just be a slim chance if I ever have a retirement. Part of it is the career I’m choosing, but part of it is the Everything.
Y’see a normal full time job has you put some money in for your retirement and then they put money into it. And should you be working for them for X years (and the number keeps growing) you can get the partial/full amount of it at age Y (number also fluctuates) and it seems like a lot of my parents generation has/had this. Something they will get if they don’t have it already.
But two problems are now present with the current model of retirement: one being that the money it gives you just isn’t enough to survive anymore. There was no accounting for how the cost of living and inflation would affect how far a dollar can go. So now we see people who had to come out of retirement and work a bit to make up for the difference. And two, how to build your retirement was never really taught in schools. My mother had to tell her coworkers how to maximize their plan in the current job they all have because they just didn’t know and reading legal/economic jargon is just kinda difficult for a lot of people.
Your other option for a/an additional retirement plan is working with someone who can invest your money in a portfolio. Stocks and all that stuff. But as far as I’m concerned that’s fake money earned through wizardry, I have no fuckin clue how the hell that actually does something.
So now say you’re 20/30 something and you wanna try and have a retirement. Your options is actually be able to work full time at a job that offers retirement benefits and actually stick with it for like 20+ years or invest money you don’t have in a portfolio. It’s not new that a lot of places deliberately don’t have you on for full time so they don’t have to pay those benefits. And the only two careers I know of that promise a full retirement in only about 20 years of work is the military and being a cop.
So what do you do? I think the options generally are morbid.
Wait for your parents to die, sue someone and win, or win the lottery.
For me at least, that is the only conceivable way I’ll ever get a large amount of money at once. (And even then, watch most of it go to student loans lmao)
And it’s morbid. Thinking your best bet into have a comfortable to retirement amount of money is your parents dying. And even that is coming from a place of privilege. But I’ve heard it before! Being upset that your parents are dead and it’s stressful planning the funeral but also feeling guilty because that chunk of change feels good to have. It’s morbid and rightfully taboo as shit to acknowledge but getting a significant amount of money when someone dies might actually help you outta a bind.
The second is suing. Americans in particular have a rep for being a lil trigger happy about lawsuits. And I think it’s for two reasons. 1) it’s the only way to truly guarantee someone has to be held accountable and even then it’s a hope and 2) we’ve romanticized getting a lot of money outta it. Because we need it.
Y’know that older but still prevalent joke that “hey if I get hit by a uni bus at least they’ll pay my tuition?” Yeah no they won’t. Not anymore at least. I’ve had several adults working at my college say they won’t, they’ll only cover medical costs from the incident bc it’s happened so much. Apparently you also have much better luck suing the bus company itself than the school. But it is textbook romanticizing a shitty thing because a lot of money would be nice.
Sidenote: maybe if we had a functioning healthcare system that wasn’t driven on profit we wouldn’t have to be entirely reliant on suing someone to have impossible medical debt not kill us
And it’s also because you don’t realize just how slow and expensive the legal process is until you’re in it. And how much of a difference having money to throw at a court case makes. But that’s why settlements outside of court are so so tempting. Again, it’s also a degree of privilege.
So here’s your last option: the lottery. Which is just gambling. It’s 100% gambling and hoping it works. And a 1 or 2 dollar lottery seems relatively low loss on you for a whatever billion win. Whatever that comes out after taxes is still enough to keep you alive the rest of your life provided you don’t blow through it.
(Side thought on the lottery. If the state has like, a lot of money set aside to give to a random lucky person, why not just actually divide it and give it to the people? Or put it towards the roads/a school/whatever program??
The current mega millions jackpot for 10/24 is $114,000,000. $114 million dollars. So that’s not a lot if you split it out to the population, but I still don’t understand why not put that jackpot money into the roads instead of the amount earned with people buying lottery tickets. Idk idk it just feels like the state is dangling money over you head sometimes. Heehoo look at this money that could quite literally save your life come dance for meeee)
So it would seem the only guarantees for getting enough money to live (cuz remember the minimum wage isn’t livable anymore even with full time hours) let alone retire is some combination of privilege and luck. Lucky us.
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