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#Pink Cordless phones
loveshotzz · 29 days
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I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter two -
I might kill my ex, not the best idea
Eddie warned Robin that a game of never have I ever was a bad idea, and you should know better than to go snooping where you don’t belong.
warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking (hey it’s a summer time barbecue in the midwest), you thought there was a lot tension the last chapter? baby, you haven’t seen nothing yet. jealousy, spicy things are revealed about all of them during a drinking game.
wc: 9.5k
series masterlist | series playlist
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June -
It’s been one week.
One entire week without even so much of a glimpse of that permanently messy head of hair, and god, you hated how much it bothered you. Ears perking up every time you’d catch the cadence of his voice through the receiver of Robin’s cordless phone the few times he called her to check in. Like an unwanted guest who wasn’t taking the hint, his broad shoulders and full pink lips that somehow always look like they need to be kissed haunt your unsuspecting dreams at night. 
You hate it, you hate him, and you try not to spiral about why it feels like the opposite.
“We’re going over to Steve’s tonight,” Robin practically hums around a mouthful of fruit loops, completely unaware of you already stewing about the boy whose name just rolled off her tongue this early in the morning. 
“What?” You snap, tearing your eyes from the slow pour of the coffee maker in front of you, grouchy and wound up from a dream about his big hands pulling your legs apart so perfect white teeth could nip at the inside of your thighs.
“Steve, you know that guy you told me you’d try and be nice to. The one who’s fixing your car?” Sarcasm drips from her tone as she scoops up another bite, “We’re going to his house.”
Of course.
“That’s cool with me.” You muster up enough effort to twist your lips up into a smile that feels more like a grimace. The smashed rainbow Robin reveals in her mouth when she laughs tells you it is.
“Do me a favor, and never go into acting.” Swallowing loudly, she drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clank. “I do appreciate you trying to pretend like you’re okay with it, though, and in all seriousness, we haven’t gone this long without seeing each other in like, forever. He says you're keeping me hostage.”
“I’m keeping you hostage?!” You scoff with a roll of your eyes, turning your back to finally pour yourself the cup of coffee you’ve waited so patiently for. “He’s the best friend stealer.”
“I’m not going to lie, I think I like you two fighting over me,” she laughs, looking a little too smug for your liking as she brings her empty bowl to the sink, Garfield slippers scuffling across the tile, too lazy to pick up her feet from the floor.
“Yeah, 'cause you’re sick.” A real smile curls up into your cup, inhaling the rich scent into your nose. “What are your plans to torture me with his presence this time?” 
Robin narrows her stare at you in a silent warning, pulling herself up to sit on the counter, orange cat covered feet dangling freely as you meet her gaze with softened eyes in a silent apology.
“Eddie’s off tonight, so we’re having a little reunion barbecue, and Steve’s gonna grill.”
Choking on your coffee, you sputter your sip back into your mug, turning her freckled face sour.
“Since when does Steve know how to cook, let alone grill?”
Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you know you’re skating on thin ice, but all the built up tension that tightens your muscles, and buzzes incessantly at your fingertips makes everything feel impossible to control.
“He’s not seventeen anymore - “
“Really? He had me fooled shoving his tongue down some pretty blonde’s throat at Rick’s the other night.” 
“That’s - come on, you know that's not fair. He didn’t even know -”
”Why stop at just the four of us, let’s invite Vickie, make it a real party.”
The name of your best friend’s ex leaves your mouth before you can stop it, instant regret making a heavy home in your chest that feels like it might cave in when her mood shifts with glassy eyes and it’s completely your fault.
“I take back what I said, I need you to start acting again.”
Jumping off the counter, you set your mug down so you can grab her arm before she can take those few steps out of the kitchen. 
“Hey! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” 
She doesn’t put up much of a fight, even though you deserve it, the blue in her eyes turn to ice when she looks at you.
“I’m sorry.”
She holds your stare until she can tell you actually mean it, melting glaciers with a heavy sigh. 
“It’s fine, I get it.” 
Her words come out soft, just like the lines that smooth on her face.
“I know this is weird and like totally against friend code or whatever, but I think that just goes to show how much he must mean to me or even a testament to how much he’s changed if I’m even asking you to just try and do this. Just try, that’s all.”
“No, you’re right,” you fluster, doing your best to reassure her in a shaky voice, “I just slept badly and had a really weird dream. It just threw me off a little. I’m being so awful and I’m sorry.” 
Flashes of the way his hands gripped your hips and the dirty things he whispered in your ear has your palms start to sweat, making you loosen your grip on her arm before she can notice. 
Robin searches your face for the reassurance that she needs before a small smile finally tugs at the corners of her lips.“This is why you’re my best friend.” She pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around your neck.
“Only if you tell him that.” 
Snaking your arms around her waist, you let out a shaky laugh, silently preparing to see the man who hasn’t left the crevices of your mind since you stepped foot back in Hawkins.
———
It feels like you’re back in high school the way you can’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror, the nerves still feel the same.
Your gaze wanders up and down your reflection, turning from side to side, overly critical eyes take in your curves that are on display a little more than normal and you wonder if Robin will notice. Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, better yet you wonder if Robin will notice and have something to say about it. 
“You’re certainly spending a lot of time on an outfit.” Your best friend whistles low as she leans against the open bedroom door confirming your fears with a cross of her arms.
“Just trying to remember what I brought is all.” You don’t engage with the amusement that hides in her tone, smoothing down the short black skirt that flares over the tops of your thighs, before adjusting the straps on your matching tank top.
“Riiiight,” she snorts, earning the kind of glare that has her raising her hands in defense before a shit-eating grin cracks wide across her face. “I’m going to need you to hurry up, though. Do I need to remind you that we’re walking?”
“I’m done!” You huff, sock covered feet digging into her cream carpet as you make your way toward her, “I just need to put on my shoes.”
“You’ve got twenty secon-” she agonizes before three hard knocks on her front door cut her off. Her cheshire smile falters as she turns confused.
“You’re lucky you didn’t get to finish that sentence,” you warn in a harsh whisper, grabbing your Converse that had been haphazardly kicked off earlier in the corner. 
Robin puts a ringed finger to her lips, like the possibility of a kidnapper being on the other side is extremely probable, and it’s her turn to glare when you roll your eyes at her dramatics. Following her out to the living room, you plop down on the couch, watching her slowly creep to the front door. Both her hands find the blue painted wood pushing up on the toes of her Reeboks to look out the peephole.
“Steve?!” 
The name makes your stomach flip, a shaky breath pushing its way through watermelon flavored lips because you thought you had more time than this. Keeping a poker face, you take your time tying your laces as she swings the door open. Head down, your eyes keep their focus on how the dirty white strings move between your fingers. 
You’re not ready to look at him. Not yet.
“After taking you to school at 7am every day after I graduated, you really thought I was going to let you walk?” The smile in his voice is evident, a fond memory you’re not a part of but you can still feel the warmth inside it by the way he speaks. 
“Thank god,” she starts, the insinuation of the words that are going to follow making your eyes snap up, narrowed and shooting daggers at your best friend, catching Steve’s attention in the process. 
“We were going to be late.”
“Oh yeah?” He asks, his gaze claiming yours and holding it against your will, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his full lips and suddenly it’s so much warmer in her living room than it was two seconds ago. “Why’s that?”
He somehow looks even better than the last time you saw him, a bad habit you’re quickly learning that he has. The honey colored tips of his chestnut hair curl at the ends, sticking out of the sides of his backwards baseball hat. A well worn black cotton shirt with the sleeves cut out has the arms that you’d dreamt about on full display. The summer sun somehow dotting even more freckles across his shoulder blades that flex everytime he spins his car keys around his finger. The dark cherry red basketball shorts he wears hit the bottoms of his hairy thighs, the red mesh even more vibrant against his tan skin, just like the white leather of the Nike Cortez’s that cover his feet. 
“She’s just being dramatic,” you grumble, finally tearing your eyes from the dark moss that covers the chocolate inside his, doing your best to ignore the heat of them wandering the bare skin of your legs as you finish tying your shoes.
“You changed your outfit like sixty times!” 
This is the moment that you decide you’re going to kill Robin in her sleep tonight.
“Well, I’m ready so you both can stop being annoying now.” Standing, you tug down the bottom of your skirt that suddenly feels even shorter with his full attention on you like this.
“Wait, why am I annoying? I just got here.” Steve argues when your words finally sink in, snapping him out of his daze, catching the keys in his palm. 
“You’re always annoying, Harrington,” you sigh, hoping your deflections are working, but the small smile that never leaves his lips tells you it’s not.
“Shotgun!” Robin calls out like it’s something you would have argued over. Your shoulder brushes with his as you push your way out the door, sending sparks to the tips of your fingers and making your hair stand on end. Steve and the summer heat warm your skin. 
“It’s all yours,” you concede with ease, ignoring the butterfly wings that wreak havoc in your rib cage when the spice of his cologne makes its way into your nose.
It was going to be a night.
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Steve keeps the windows rolled down, the muggy air making your bare thighs stick together and to the hot leather of his backseat. It drowns out the music as he speeds down the back roads, making the conversation between him and Robin upfront almost inaudible.
You don’t worry about what they might be saying, not even when they both start gesturing wildly with their hands. Taking advantage of the time left alone, you put all of your focus into preparing yourself for the next few hours, doing your best to push the lingering thoughts of your dream deep down to a place that no one can find. A task that proves to be much harder while avoiding his gaze that dares you to meet it in the rear view mirror the entire way. 
The memories you have of the back of his car don’t help either.
Pulling into Forest Hills trailer park, you’re surprised at the facelift they finally gave it after all these years. Lush green grass grows where the yellow and brown shrub used to be, and a wooden gazebo that looks like it’s missing a finishing coat stands tall, replacing the picnic table where you and the metal head used to smoke. Even the gravel that paves the road looks new and gray, not the dirt brown mud that it used to be. 
It’s still a struggle to wrap your head around the fact that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the former king of Hawkin’s and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson not only work together, but live together too. You would have laughed in anyone’s face if they told you this five years ago. 
The BMW’s tires crunch loudly against the rocks as Steve pulls into the driveway of a hunter green trailer. It sits in the back of the park, almost touching the edge of the woods behind it. A faded white line running along the length that matches the metal railing of their front entrance and the overhang that covers it. The paint peels from parts of the metal in the heat, revealing spots of the gray hidden underneath. A worn in deep maroon couch sits on the porch just like the dirty brown one at Wayne’s trailer, and you already know Eddie spends his mornings there. You internally groan when you catch yourself wondering if Steve does too.
“Home sweet home,” he hums, cutting the engine off and pulling you out of your thoughts. 
You dare to meet his eyes for the first time since you left the apartment when Robin jumps out of the front seat, and you immediately regret it. He smiles wide, finally catching your attention, those perfect white teeth baring themselves at you as he pulls off his hat to run a hand through his sweaty bed head. The long strand he’s always at battle with falls through the opening in the back when he puts it on again, because, of course it does.
“Good to see you finally slumming it with the rest of us, King Steve,” you snort, pulling on the handle to let yourself out, ending any chance of conversation.
If it wasn’t for your Eddie barreling out of the front door to greet you and Robin with a big dimpled grin and a freshly rolled joint, you would’ve thought a little harder about the way Steve winced at the nickname.
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The Munson/Harrington Bachelor pad anomaly isn’t exactly what you expected it to be, but even then you weren’t entirely sure what that was. It’s cozy just like how Wayne’s used to be but where there’s hand me downs that have been through the short line of Munson men’s hands, there’s an equal amount of obviously perfectly well kept new. Like the shiny big TV in the center of their living room, and the well-loved lazy boy in front of it, that still had cigarette burns from its previous owner, next to the rich tan leather couch right by it.
It smells like it has just been cleaned, a sanitizing lilac still lingering in the air, trying its best to cover the smell of all grease stained clothing in their hampers and the smoke from joints like the one Eddie’s about to put out in an ashtray full of ones just like it.
He sits at the head of the table with a lopsided grin that pushes up the apples of his cheeks and reveals the deep dimples in the center of them. Droopy lids frame his bloodshot eyes that meet your own. Orange and pinks paint the darkening sky through the sliding glass door behind him. 
“I still can’t believe you’re actually here,” Eddie chuckles with a fond glint in big brown eyes leaning back in his chair that squeaks under the redistribution of his weight.
“Back by popular demand,” you smirk, pointing at Robin, who sits just on the other side of the table, glassy eyed with an unwavering smile. 
You try to ignore how the empty chair next to her bothers you, or they way your eyes keep looking toward the kitchen through the small opening of their little island, giving you the perfect view of Steve prepping dinner. His thick eyebrows are furrowed as he digs through spice racks and drawers, front teeth digging into the plushness of his bottom lip deep in thought.
“I think this calls for a fire,” Eddie announces loudly, bringing you back to the conversation with a slap of his palms on the wood of the table and the kind of smirk that tells you that you’ve been caught.
“We told Janice next door weekends only after last time,” Steve’s voice startles you, making his presence known, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 
“It’s Thursday. Practically the weekend. Besides it’s a special occasion, look who’s here Stevie boy.” Something in Eddie’s tone makes Steve’s eyes narrow in a silent threat that only makes the metal heads' lips twist up into something more devilish. 
“You have to put it out before bed then, I’m not dealing with it like last time.” Steve accepts defeat quicker than anticipated, “And if she calls or comes over to complain at all, that's all on you too.”
”Deal,” Eddie agrees with five fingers across his heart, the silver of his rings catching in the low light of their trailer.“I think she’s got a crush on me anyway.”
“She’s married,” Steve dead pans with a deep sigh, taking his hat off to run another hand through his hair and you hate the way it has your thighs meeting under the table. “Who’s helping me with dinner then?”
He knows better than to look at you, so his gaze falls onto his roommate and best friend.
”Don’t look at me!” Robin argues, raising her right hand to show off the faded scar on her palm. “Last time I tried to help, I had to get stitches, remember?”
”The fire’s a full time job I’m afraid,” Eddie shrugs, standing up. Not missing a beat, they both look at each other like they're in on some secret that you and Steve aren’t apart of before their eyes land on you.
”You know I’m not a good cook,” you whine, refusing to meet the heat of Steve’s stare that burns against the side of your face.
”I’m sure Steve’s more than willing to help teach you, princess.” Eddie grins, and it makes you want to slap the dimples clean off his face.
“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I can do it by myself,” Steve interjects with a sigh before you have a chance to respond with something that he knows will just egg the metal head on and get his ego even more bruised.
He’s not expecting the way your eyes snap to his, or the way they narrow with something fiery deep inside them.
”We’re grown adults, Steve. I think I can handle helping you cut some vegetables or whatever it is you need me to do.” Standing up with a shove of your chair, he doesn’t even attempt to argue about how that’s the exact opposite of what you just said.
”There we go! Problem solved.” Eddie’s grin is mischievous, and so is the wink he throws at his roommate before opening the sliding glass door, ushering Robin out and leaving you both alone.
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The tension inside the kitchen hangs thicker in the air than the humidity outside weighing down your shoulders, making the words stick in the back of your throat as you try to navigate the close proximity to Steve. Neither one of you is sure of what to say first, and the sound of Eddie and Robin laughing outside filling the silence between you somehow makes it worse. 
The weed twists the knots in your stomach tighter, and the cedar that always seems to linger whenever he’s around turns suffocating without an escape. You lean against the sink across from him while he digs through the icebox in the fridge. Shoulder blades moving with the motions of his wrist, plastic crinkling loudly every time he moves a bag out of the way. Muttering to himself, you watch goosebumps rise on his tan skin from the cool air, muscles twitching from the shock.
This was a mistake. 
Biting the inside of your cheek, you tear your eyes away in hopes it will stop the dull ache between your legs from getting worse when you’re brought back to the way those same arms caged you in while his hips pushed you deeper into the mattress in your dreams last night. Looking out the small window at the beginning flames of the bonfire, a shaky breath pushes past your glossed lips, and you wipe your palms on your skirt before turning around to wash your hands.
”You don’t have to help, you know?” His voice comes out just loud enough for you to hear over the running water, the small smacking sound of the fridge closing behind it, “If you’re that uncomfortable, I can do it.”
Cutting the water, you shake your hands in the sink before tearing off a paper towel from the roll next to you. Working up enough courage to finally turn around to look at him, you finish drying your hands with a softer expression.
”No, I can help.” 
He holds your stare, silently giving you another out while his fingers make quick work of unwrapping a head of lettuce, an onion, and a few peppers from their plastic confines. No matter how much you want to look away, you don’t, standing firm in your choice despite everything inside of you screaming to run away, and it’s enough for him to nod his head. The slight twitch of his lips while he rolls the bags in his hands doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I just need you to cut the onion into thin slices for the burgers, and same with the jalapeños.” He instructs, turning his back to you to throw away the wrappings. 
The sudden movement has the deep cut sleeves of his shirt fluttering open, giving you a glimpse of the thick patch of hair on his chest, and how it tapers off and down past his belly button. Your thighs find each other again, and you look up to the ceiling silently, trying to regain all the strength you thought you’d just found. 
“And the lettuce - uhh, are you okay?” Steve’s confusion makes all the blood in your body rush to the apples of your cheeks as you try to hide your internal struggle with a smile.
“Yeah, we’re good. Never been better. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you ramble, brushing past him to the station he’s set up for you.
“…Right,” he starts with a pause before choosing to leave it alone, “I just need you to kind of rip the lettuce up, you can cut it if you want but I think bigger pieces would be better.”
You aren’t expecting his voice to come from right behind you, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against the back of your neck. Your own goosebumps rise, dotting across exposed skin and you hope he doesn’t notice but the way he lingers in your space for a little longer despite the nod of your head makes you think otherwise. The spice of his cologne grows faint along with his footsteps against the tile floor, finding a home on the other side of the kitchen, busying himself with what he had started before.
Eddie turns on the radio, easing some of the tension from your muscles, and relaxing your shoulders as you get a good grip on the handle of the knife.
You could do this, easy. 
You really start to believe it too when you cut all the jalapeños, even humming along to an old Judas Priest song that you and Eddie used to blast in his van after school. Peeling the onion, you pretend that you don’t see the reflection of Steve staring at you from the glass of the microwave as you sway your hips and bop your head to the beat.
“So, New York huh?” He finally breaks, and your eyes flutter to the reflection to see him putting away all the spices he’d pulled out while you were smoking. “You likin’ it?”
Your movements freeze for a second, and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth with all the things you’ve dreamed of saying to him. Years of coming up with all the ways you’d tell him how much better you were without him. A recurring fantasy of a ten year reunion where you’d show up with your famous screenwriter husband you’d met on the Subway, turning your nose at him and whatever Hawkin’s girl he’d managed to knock up. But instead, the universe has you here five years too early, and Steve isn’t the same guy you’d left even if you don’t quite trust it yet.
Picking up the knife again, you roll your shoulders with a quiet breath before cutting into the onion once more as you search for the words to answer.
“Yeah, I like it. It’s big and it can be a little scary sometimes but I can be myself there,” it comes out a little quieter than intended but you still twist your hips to meet his gaze from across the kitchen where he stands with crossed arms giving you his full attention. “No one really cares what you do.”
“Who are you trying to be out there?” He asks like he has no idea what small talk is, the greens in his eyes shimmering against the last bit of sunlight that shines on his face.
“Someone stronger than who I was in high school,” you whisper, turning back around to focus on the task at hand and not your ex trying to dig into the depths of your soul while you cut onions.
“You were always the strongest person I knew,” he counters, and you can practically hear the shrug that you know follows his words.
”You certainly liked to test it.” 
It comes out before you can bite your tongue, your knife slicing right into the center of the onion and hitting the cutting board roughly, adding dramatic effect.
”Ouch,” he hums with a small laugh, silverware clanking against the metal of the sink behind you as he finishes cleaning up his mess, “I guess I deserved that one.”
“Steve.” You stop cutting, dropping the knife to look at him, unintentionally swiping your eye in the process, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I promised Rob- oh fuck!”
The burning in your right eye becomes unbearable, the tears spilling freely down your cheek blurring your vision with a harsh sting.
”Oh, oh no. Did you touch your eye?!” Steve sounds panicked, sneakers scuffling against the tile as he hurries to grab a washcloth from the drawer. 
“It was an accident!” You whine, closing your eyes as tight as you can, willing the burning tears to stop, the sound of water running from the sink filling your ears, “God it hurts so bad, Steve.”
”I know baby, I know,” he coos in a soothing voice, and in your panic you almost don’t catch the old nickname that slips off his tongue with ease. Long fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to him, “Let me see, stay still.”
The coolness of the rag provides instant relief when he presses it gently to your eye. Taking a deep breath, you feel the warmth of his palm rub up and down your arm soothing your irritated nerves more. The sting doesn’t fully go away, but it subsides enough for the tears to slow down as he applies a little more pressure before removing it to wet it again. Blinking past the burning, you finally realize just how close you are to him now. 
Chests practically touching, you can see the beginnings of stubble lining his jaw despite being able to tell that he shaved today. The vampire bites on his neck that used to be your favorite to kiss taunt you for what feels like the millionth time this week. With cedar and musk filling your lungs, it feels impossible to breathe.
He cuts off the water, turning towards you again, and you aren’t prepared for the depth in his eyes meeting yours from this distance. They’re soft when they look at you, the chestnut inside them warming gold as you stare back at him a little dazed. Calloused fingertips stop their path up your arm to gently grab your chin, tilting your face up to his so he can get a better look at the damage. He’s sweet with the way moves your head around, the pad of his thumb smoothing the skin under your irritated eye.
”I think you’ll be okay, I don’t see any seeds or anything trapped inside,” he whispers, thumb never stopping its movements while his gaze flicks down to your lips that pout on their own, something electric charging in the air.
The sliding glass door opens behind him before you can answer, Robin and Eddie making their presence known in a loud burst of energy. Snatching the wet rag from his hand, you’re quick to put distance between you. Placing the cool cloth against your face, you make your way out of the kitchen before anyone can ask you anything about what happened. Muttering a “thanks Steve '' on your way to assess just how ruined your makeup is in the bathroom. 
Your heart pounds in your ears feeling the ghost of his touch everywhere, chest tightening because your body won’t stop screaming for more.
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You stay in the bathroom long enough for the burning to subside, mumbling words that resemble some kind of pep talk while scrubbing your hands. Fingers that still shake with nerves fix your smudged mascara, listening for the moment their voices go quiet behind the sliding glass door before you decide to finally venture out. The sound of Steve’s laugh catches in your ears, as you make your way through the empty trailer, the corners of your lips curling on their own as you tug on the handle that separates you from them. The humidity is quick to turn your skin sticky despite the sun disappearing behind the trees. 
”There she is! I heard Harrington tried to blind you,” Eddie chuckles from his place crouched in front of the fire. A half smoked cigarette dangling lazily from the side of his mouth as he ‘stokes’ the flames, the crackling wood competing with the buzz of the cicadas that surround you.
”Riddle me this, Steve, why is it that whenever someone ’helps’ you cook, they end up in the hospital or worse, almost BLIND!” 
From her spot sitting on one of the many faded red plastic lawn chairs they have circled around the pit, Robin doesn’t hesitate to turn it into a dog pile with dramatics that could rival an Oscar winning actress.
Steve rolls his eyes, the warm light from the smaller flame of the grill glowing underneath him, highlighting his sharp features. His gaze meets yours, ignoring his friends, and you swear even from here, you can see the green inside each eye shine. You know there’s a million questions he wants to ask but there’s only one that comes out, and it’s soft just like the way he touched you inside.
”Are you okay?”
It’s hard for you to look anywhere but his face, remembering just how pretty it was up close. Your eyes trace the straight line of his nose, and the curve of his full bottom lip before finally meeting his eyes. The small smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth reminds you that you haven’t answered him yet but he doesn’t say anything. He lets Robin’s low whistle do all the talking.
”Uhh, yeah, I’m good. Crisis averted,” you mumble, snapping out of it, cheeks warming up enough to compete with the fire pit you stumble around, landing in the seat next to your best friend. “No jalapenos on mine, I think I’ve had enough for today.”
Steve laughs again, just like the one you heard on your way out and the sound burrows in your heart, making it swell, giddiness roiling deep in your gut. You ignore Robin’s obnoxious toothy grin next to you, doubling down even more when she starts to wiggle her eyebrows. The two beer cans at her feet tell you everything you need to know.
Without a cloud in an almost completely dark sky, you start to see the twinkling of the stars you’ll always miss begin to appear. They battle for your attention against the fireflies that flicker through the tall grass and into the woods. Lighter fluid stings your nose when Steve squirts more onto the burning coals, switching from hot dogs to burgers like he’s been grilling for a family of four his whole life.
A couple of beers calm your nerves that threaten to give you away, watching Steve in his element like this, the holes cut in his shirt showing off every flex of his muscles as he flips the patties. Cheese melting over the burger meat, just like your body that sinks further into the lawn chair that sticks to the backs of your thighs. He throws you a knowing look, making you clear your throat. Straightening your posture, you try to join in Robin and Eddie’s conversation like you hadn’t just been caught. Taking another long swig of the bitter semi cold liquid, you hope it’s enough to get you through dinner.
It’s not.
Steve takes the seat across from you when he’s finished cooking, manspreading with his paper plate in his lap. You fight the urge to look at the tan line of his inner thighs that are revealed by his loose fitting shorts, laughing a little too loud at Eddie’s jokes, desperate to keep your struggle hidden. Even going as far as acting interested when Robin starts talking about her reasons why she likes to buy certain things from the three different grocery stores in town. 
It’s when a dribble of ketchup lands on top of Steve's hand after a large bite that you lose your cool. Right between his thumb and index finger, he hums with cheeks full of food before those full lips of his wrap around the spilled sauce, cleaning it with a flick of his tongue.
”I’m gonna throw my plate away, is anyone else done?” You squeak, standing up abruptly, your chair nearly falling backwards in the process. 
“Jesus, easy tiger,” Eddie snorts, finishing off the last of his beer before crushing the tin can in his hand, tossing it on his empty plate, “The trash isn’t going anywhere.”
“Just trying to be a good house guest is all,” you lie, making Eddie quirk an eyebrow, the dimples in his cheeks coming out to play again.
”Uh huh.” He smirks before handing you his plate that Robin quickly piles hers on top of. “Sure.”
”That’s very sweet of you,” Steve chimes in, with a lopsided grin on his face that makes you want to punch the air and get out of here. 
“She’s pure class Harrington, get it right,” Robin comes for the save with a knowing wink that only makes the heat growing in your cheeks worse.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble quickly turning on your heel, feeling all their eyes on you as you make your way to the back door of the trailer.
”Hurry back. We're gonna play Never Have I Ever,” your best friend calls out over her shoulder making you wish you could just stay inside when the sliding glass door closes behind you.
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Embers spark and pop from the fire before they disappear into the night sky, the full moon’s white glow stopping just along the dark edges of the trees that surround the backyard. The four of you sit around the pit with fresh beers in hand. The buzz of the alcohol turning Steve’s gaze heavy as he stares at you from across the flickering flames. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look everywhere but his direction, and hope he doesn’t see the way your thighs press under the heat of it.
“Are you sure this is a good idea Robin?” Eddie whispers, big brown eyes glancing between the both of you, and your bouncing knee.
”It’s fine, they’ll be fine. Right guys?” She waves the metal head off, nudging you with her elbow, completely unphased.
”Of course we’ll be fine, why wouldn’t we be fine?” You snap, tugging the bottom of your skirt down, all the built up tension turning into aggression. Steve smiles into his next gulp.
“Whoa, whoa. I was just asking, but you do seem a little tense.” She raises her hands in surrender, both her eyebrows disappearing behind her shaggy bangs while Eddie distracts himself by poking the fire.
“Relax, it’s just a game,” Steve sighs, settling deeper in his chair, the warm amber in the flames bouncing off the mischievous gold in his eyes that keep their hold on you. “Besides, we’re friends now, right?”
Your gaze narrows, the grip on your beer tightening enough to hear the pop of the metal.“Yep,” you manage to get out, shooting Eddie a glare when he snorts.
“If you guys say so,” he starts, ignoring your scowl while getting cut off by Robin who’s practically vibrating in her seat now.
”Let’s have fun already. I’ll start.” Robin shushes him before acting like she’s deep in thought, turning to face you with the kind of grin on her face that tells you she’s up to no good, “Never have I ever…let some Wall Street douchebag go down on me in the backseat of his Rolls Royce.”
“That’s weirdly specific- oh wait! Damn! Princess!” Eddie whoops when you take a swig with a roll of your eyes, flipping Robin the bird. 
“Gotta try everything once, right?” You shrug, holding his gaze with a smirk, not even trying to hide that you’re taking great pleasure in the way Steve’s jaw clenches at the new found information of your life outside of here. “He had a nice mouth when he wasn’t using it for talking.”
Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, the mossy greens in his eyes turning dark as you lean back in your chair smugly.
“She’s a wild one, I’ll tell ya,” Robin giggles fondly, passing the baton to you with a proud smile.
Maybe it was the beer or the incessant way Steve’s presence drove you to the brink of insanity by rageful lust. Or even just the way he sat across from you with his legs spread wide like he ruled the world, whatever it was, that's what’s to blame for the question that rolls off your tongue.
“Never have I ever taken someone’s virginity.”
Robin’s jaw drops, guffawing with a harsh slap on your leg, mouthing a ‘you said you’d be nice’ but the buzz of the alcohol keeps a lopsided grin on her face. Eddie drinks, nervously watching the staring contest going on between you and Steve. Like a dog and its owner trying to establish dominance, both of you refuse to be the one who looks away first. Taking two gulps for good measure, he smacks his lips loudly when he’s done, wiping the foam off his upper lip with the back of his wrist. Raising his eyebrows at you in a silent challenge.
“This isn’t awkward at all,” Eddie grumbles, taking another sip of his beer to help the uncomfortable tension that threatens to settle over the circle.
”Who’s next? Who's next?” Robin urges with a flick on your knee, forcing you to fold and give her your attention with a blink of your eyes and it feels like the first time in hours that you finally look at someone other than Steve. 
Your teeth clench, grinding at the thought that even after all this time he’s still got this kind of hold on you, and it has you riding the thin line between wanting to give him a black eye or have him take you for a spin in his beemer for old times sake. 
“Eddie,” raising your can in his direction, he meets you in the middle with a cheers that doesn’t quite touch before slinking back in his chair with an exhausted huff.
“Hmmm, what do I want to reveal about myself?” He hums deep in thought, metal rings clinking against tin in a familiar tune as he taps his fingers around his beer can, “Never have I ever… been in a threesome, despite being titled ‘freak’ of Hawkins.”
“Really?” Robin seems genuinely shocked, making you giggle.
“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy to me too.” Eddie shrugs, with a knowing grin that doesn’t quite sit right in your gut.
That’s when you see it. Steve taking a drink.
”WHAT?!” Your best friend squeals practically jumping from her seat, clearly something that's not common knowledge being revealed.
Jealousy is an ugly monster, and it finds a home deep inside your chest tonight, turning you green with it. Your half empty beer can crunches the more your fingers dig into the tin, eyes narrowing when he just responds to Robin with a coy smirk and a shrug bringing his attention back to you.
”Gotta try everything once right?” Steve mocks, full pink lips curling up at the corners as he takes another sip.
Your heart sinks with your stomach, the muscles in your face doing the same before you have a chance to stop it. Visions of red nails and pink lips that don’t belong to you dance through your head, and the smug smirk he probably wore while his big hands gripped their hips taking turns making them moan his name. The sound of your can completely collapsing in a loud crunch gets everyone’s attention, and you ignore the softened expression on Steve’s face trying to capture your gaze again. Eddie clears his throat, throwing you a life line before opening a new can of beer with a suggestion you’ve never been more grateful for.
”Alright Steve, your turn.” 
Steve nods with a tight lipped smile taking one last glance in your direction before sitting up in his chair with an idea that makes his cheeks push up and his eyes sparkle against the light of the fire. “Alright, never have I ever pretended to not only have a driver's license but also own a car that actually belongs to my best friend so I can hook up with a girl in the backseat.”
A quiet sigh escapes your lungs, shoulders relaxing just a little when Robin groans loudly at the attack that’s clearly focused on her. Oblivious to the fact that you’re hanging on by a thread next to her, you stare fixed on the way the flames lick up into the night. 
“Look, she was a college senior, okay? I was only a sophomore and she was way cooler than me. Judge me all you want, but it worked didn’t it?” She argues, lifting her beer to the sky before taking a sip proudly. “No regrets!”
Her smile is contagious, easing some of the tension when you and Eddie giggle meeting each other's eyes from across her honey blond waves. You can feel Steve’s stare burning a hole in the side of your head, the heat of it in direct competition with the fire that thrives off the light breeze that rustles through the trees. 
“Aright, alright, never have I ever faked getting off.” She wiggles her eyebrows with a toothy grin, looking at Eddie specifically who gives her a dead stare in response, clearly something told to her in confidence. 
Biting your lip, you really weren’t going to add more fuel to the fire but when you finally meet Steve’s eyes that have been begging for your attention this whole time, you can’t help but douse the flames with the whole can of gasoline. Another flash of different shades of lipstick staining the freckles you loved to kiss so much sending another wave of rage down to your core.
”I can think of a few times.” You snort loudly, holding his gaze and pointedly stealing everyone else's attention before polishing off the last of your crumpled can.
Steve’s jaw clenches hard enough that you swear you can hear his teeth crunch together. Nostrils flaring with a gaze so dark it threatens to swallow you whole, all traces of honey and warmth gone, leaving you chilled to the bone.
”I think we’re done with this game Robin,” he grunts, standing up with a kick of his chair and for once his eyes don’t search for yours as he stomps across the yard towards the yellow light of the trailer. 
“Seriously!” Your best friend groans, slinking back in her chair with a hand running down her face, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
”Yeah, genius! I told you, but nooo, you didn’t want to listen to me.” Eddie scoffs into his beer can, using his free hand to poke at the fire.
”Can you go, like, talk to him or something?” Robin turns to you with an almost pleading look that gets more prominent the more your face turns sour.
“Me?! I have to go talk to him? Seriously? He’s the one who stormed off,” you argue, crossing your arms.
”Yeah, well you clearly hurt his feelings.” She points at his pacing figure through the kitchen window and it takes everything inside of you not to tell her that he hurt yours first.
The two of you stare each other down, the wills of stubbornness at battle until her eyes go soft, big and glassy. 
“Please,” she begs, pulling out the big guns, and jutting out her bottom lip.
You hold her gaze for a few more seconds before surrendering with a roll of your eyes, huffing loudly when you uncross your arms to stand up, making her face light back up.
”I hate you. More than anything.”
Eddie cackles loudly at your lie, digging in his front pocket for a smushed pack of cigarettes.
“We all know you don’t mean that,” she hums with a content smile, leaning over to snatch the freshly lit tobacco from the metalhead’s mouth, waving at you as you start to follow Steve’s path up to the trailer. “Please don’t kill him!”
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Closing the sliding glass door behind you, a shiver runs up your spine when the coolness of the air conditioning hits your sticky skin. The sound of running water catches in your ears from the kitchen along with the murmur of his voice under its rush.You can’t quite make out what he’s saying to himself, even when you reach the doorway. 
Hunched over the sink, his shoulder blades flex with every harsh scrub of the pan. His hat rests on the counter, and you can’t help but notice the wild way his hair sits on the top of his head from wearing it all day, sun kissed tips curling from the humidity. Clearing your throat just loud enough to alert him of your presence, you watch the way his whole body goes rigid. It only lasts for a moment before he recovers, shutting off the water with a lazy slap of his hand. Turning around he grabs the dish towel next to him to dry off, meeting your gaze with a little more color in his eyes, flecks of gold trying to shimmer in a raging storm.
Having his full attention on you, alone like this, is enough for your tongue to go numb. The back of your throat turns into sandpaper, making it impossible for words to find their way out. A big hand runs through his hair, fingers getting caught on a knot at the end that he works out with ease, a gentle sigh deflating his defensive chest just a little before he speaks.
“Hey.” 
Anger still boils under all of the attraction, along with the jealousy you aren���t willing to acknowledge.You aren’t ready. You can’t do this yet.
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” you excuse yourself, turning on your heel and leaving just as quickly as you arrived.
You ignore the way he calls after you, seeking solace in the place that's become your hiding spot for the night. Fingers wrap around the handle to the familiar room, you stop in your tracks when a warm patch of light leaking out from a crack in a door that wasn’t opened before catches your attention. 
You can smell the cedar from here.
Glancing over your shoulder to see if he followed you, it changes the course of your direction when you discover that he didn’t. Taking a few steps across the hallway, you’re careful not to let the hinges creak when you push his bedroom door open a little more. Your senses quickly become overwhelmed with everything that makes Steve, Steve. You throw another cautious look down the hallway before crossing the invisible line. Closing the door like how you found it, you let your curiosity get the best of you. 
It’s cleaner than you thought it’d be now that he doesn’t live inside the Harrington’s massive house anymore. His bed is bigger, the twin sized mattress that you used to squeeze into traded in for a queen. The navy blue comforter that looks soft to the touch is laid out messy on white sheets, a digital clock with glaring red numbers that read 10:30 pm on the nightstand next to it. 
The carpet under your feet is a heather gray, and you can tell that it’s scratchy even with your shoes on. Patrick Swayze watches your every move from the Roadhouse poster hanging on his wall, the floor creaking as you make your way toward the small work desk in the corner. Your eyes linger on the impressive way all his dirty clothes manage to be in his hamper before they find the framed pictures spread over his desk. 
There’s one of him with the middle school boy you knew as Dustin Henderson perched on his back, only he looks much older than you remembered. The curls still give him away despite the braces free smile. Both of them grin hard enough for their eyes to crinkle in the corners like they had finally stopped laughing long enough for someone to snap this picture. 
You fight back the way your cheeks threaten to push up, not surprised to find one of him and Robin at what looks like Lover’s Lake, both of them striking the same pose with inflatable tubes around their waists wearing matching bucket hats and sunglasses.
The guy in these photos doesn’t seem anything like the one you remember and it’s hard for you to wrap your head around it. They look the same.
”I don’t think this is the bathroom, do you?” Steve’s voice makes you jump, heart stopping in your chest for a split second before you meet his questioning stare with a guilty face of your own. 
His arms are crossed over his chest as leans against the door frame, unintentionally pulling the collar of his shirt down giving you a glimpse of the patch of hair and the gold chain underneath. The softness in his eyes from the kitchen is gone as he stares you down, it’s replaced with something you can’t quite put your finger on but the intensity of it raking over your body has your thighs meeting for what feels like the millionth time tonight. His full pink lips twist into a sarcastic smirk as he pushes off the wood, taking the next few steps into his room.
”Did you really mean what you said out there?” He questions, dark eyes sparkling the more you squirm under the heat of them.
”Mean what? I said a lot of things out there. We all did.” Narrowing your gaze, you try to take back some semblance of control, squaring up your shoulders at him but the dark chuckle you get in response tells you it’s a futile attempt.
“I didn’t say anything about you specifically though, did I?” Steve counters, stopping just a few feet away from you, tongue poking at the side of his cheek, “No, I don’t think I did.”
He hums, uncrossing his arms to mimic your stance in a silent challenge, eyebrows raised waiting on your response.
”I didn’t say anything about you specifically either.” Jutting out your chin in defiance, it's your turn to cross your arms now. Maturity at its finest.
He doesn’t answer you, instead he holds your eyes with his own and it takes everything inside of you not to look away. Your tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he starts to take a few steps closer, broad shoulders making the room feel small when the toes of his sneakers meet yours.
“I don’t think you ever faked anything with me.” He looks down his nose at you, smelling like summer nights and everything you’ve tried to forget.
”You think or you know?” Cocking a brow with a shit eating grin that tells him you aren’t going to fold easy, the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his desk. 
He sucks at his teeth, rolling his shoulders with the kind of laugh that makes the dull ache between your legs turn into a throb.
“I know. Trust me.” He smirks, gaze lingering where the soft dough of your thighs meet before finding your eyes again, “Guess what else I know?”
It's hard for you to catch your breath when he looks at you like this and you wonder if he notices the quick heaves of your chest or the way your eyes glaze over from being this close to him.
”W-what?” Your stutter gives you away, but at least you tried to fight one last time before he went in for the kill.
The whites of his teeth show in the kind of smile that tells you he was hoping you’d ask just that. Leaning in, his palms land on his desk finding purchase on either side of your hips, caging you in. He’s close enough for the tip of his nose to brush against yours, close enough to smell the wheat from his beer on the warm breath that fans against your lips. 
“You wouldn’t still look at me the way you do, if I hadn’t made you feel good honey. And you know what else?” 
His voice goes deep as he whispers, nose nudging at your cheek before his lips hover right by your ear making you shiver, goosebumps making their second appearance of the day. Your hands find the edge of his desk, chest brushing against his in a deep breath feeling the slightest touch of his lips against the soft spot right behind it.  
“I know I can make you cum harder with my tongue than some Wall Street asshole, who doesn’t even know what to do under the hood of that fancy car he spent so much money on.” His grip on the desk tightens at the thought, wood groaning under the stress of it and it has your thighs spreading for him on their own.
“Steve -”
His fingers grab your chin like at the shop with just a firm enough hold for you to pull away if you want to but you can’t bring yourself to do it when his eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You wonder if it's just a mirror reflection of your own as he takes some of the new space you’ve given him, so close now that you can feel the heat of his body where yours screams for him most. His brows furrow when your noses brush and he swears he can taste the watermelon of your lip gloss, and then he knows he can when he feels your fingers curl into his shirt tugging him closer.
“I think,” he breathes into your mouth, hesitating just enough to soak it in a second longer before pulling away with an almost pained expression that he quickly tries to cover up, “I think it’s time for me to take you and Robin home.”
He steps back and out of your space, a nervous hand running through his hair like he did something he wasn’t supposed to do. His eyes meet yours again and there's something apologetic that swirls in the deep forest that watches you tug your skirt down straightening up.
”I’ll uh, I’ll give you a minute while I go wrangle Robin.” 
He takes one last look at you like he really needs to be sure of something before finally walking out and leaving you alone to wonder how the night ended with you here. Skirt rucked up, trying to catch your breath in Steve Harrington’s room.
———-
🌻 beta’d by @superblysubpar
🌻 chapter three
701 notes · View notes
mintyjinx · 29 days
Note
hey! is there any chance you can make the cordless landline phone as a default replacement for the standard phones sims use?
Yes! Here it is!
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As requested! A functional mobile phone override version of the Cordless Landline Telephone ! At this point There’s a complete set for the Cordless Landline telephone 😅 
You can only have a single phone override in your game at a time, so remember to only download a single .package file! 
There are 15 options to choose from. Each phone (and subsequent file) is numbered to reflect the swatches in the picture above. I’ve also provided pictures of phone number 1 (Pink), 6 (Purple), 15 (Blue) and phone number 12 (Green) as a few in-game examples of how the phones look like.
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Download a Default Replacement/Override Phone  ⤵️
✦ Ko-fi (Free) Just pick the option to pay 0$ Or ✦ Patreon (Free) Remember to only pick 1 file!
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Related CC: ♦ Cordless Landline Telephone Mounted on a stand (functions as a Table lamp) ♦ Cordless Landline Telephone (Deco/Clutter) Without the mount, just decorative/clutter. ♦ Flip-Phone Override + Deco/Clutter If you’d rather have a flip-phone!
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I also want to give credit to the following creators who’s CC are shown in the preview picture(s) ⤵️
CREDIT(s): ★ @cecesimsxo: Aqua Nails💦 (Blue) & Biker Shorts Set (Green). ★ @busra-tr: 🖤PUFF SET-205 (TOP) BD665🖤 (Purple) & 🖤 Dress BD309 🖤 (Blue). ★ @pralinesims: BUBBLE POP & SUGAR MILK Nails RELOADED N31 SugarMilk Short (Purple), N32 BubblePop Short (Green) & LIPSTICK Ultimate Collection Lip N211 Nanette V2 (Green) ★ Dreamgirl’s j e l l y c l o u d n a i l s (Pink).
(My game crashed before I saved all my Sims’ appearances so do let me know if I missed something and correct me if I got anything wrong!)
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Note(s): For any questions, requests, or if you’re having any issues with my CC; leave a comment, send me a message or ask me anything HERE. T.O.U. can be found HERE.
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429 notes · View notes
wkndwlff · 10 months
Text
Good Day Sunshine Part 2
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Part One Part Three
Summary: The summer has come and gone quickly, but what does that mean for Bob and his sunflower?
Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Female reader
Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, 18+ only, Fluff, swearing, mentions of pregnancy, probable typos…
WC: 8600
A big thank you to @sylviebell as always! A special thanks to @firefly-graphics for the dividers! 🌻
Bob’s eyes fluttered shut. Panic seized his stomach as sweat began to bead on his forehead. His calming breaths did little more than make him feel faint. The image of your beautiful face danced behind his lids, forcing his lips to curve upward even if he felt like he was about to vomit.
He had already circled the tulip fields twice on his bike, trying to let the sweet smell calm him down. But every time he rode past the turn towards the carnations, his stomach flipped, and he went back for another loop. He was so confident that this was what he wanted, what you would want. He’d never been so sure of anything in his life. But the ring in his pocket seemed to be weighing him down as he wondered if you felt the same. The doubts his parents planted were starting to bloom in his mind. Was this all too soon? Was he rushing? 
But then his phone rang, causing him to stop. The intrusive thoughts were temporarily at bay while he stopped next to the pink tulips.
“Hello?” He asked hesitantly.
“Robert Floyd, you’ve been riding around my tulips for the last twenty minutes,” MeeMaw huffed. “What’s wrong, honey?”
His brow pinched as he looked towards the old farmhouse. MeeMaw waved from the porch, cordless house phone perched on her ear. He chuckled softly at the sight, waving back. There was no point lying to the woman, that much he’d learned in the year he’d known her.
“What if she says no?” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. “What if she thinks this is all too soon? I’m leaving in two weeks for flight school.”
“Robert,” MeeMaw said softly. “Honey, I know my granddaughter. She won’t say no.”
He gulped at her words, a shaky breath leaving his lips. He knew she was right. His hands tingled as he looked towards the back of the fields, where he knew you’d be waiting.
“If you’re not ready, that’s alright,” she continued. “She’s not going anywhere any time soon.” She paused. “Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he sighed, adjusting his glasses.
“You know that I’d yell at you for that if you weren’t so nervous,” she teased. He could hear her smile. “Now take a little more time and then get going. She’ll start to worry that something happened if you don’t.”
“Sorry, MeeMaw,” he chuckled. “I’m going.”
With his phone pocketed, he started another loop around the tulips. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he passed the turn off again. He let his mind drift as he coasted on autopilot. MeeMaw wouldn’t steer him wrong, would she? She had been your biggest supporter. She welcomed him like he was one of her own from day one. She wouldn’t lead him astray.
Bob sucked in a gulp of air, taking the turn. The front tire wobbled as his hands began to shake. This was it. The carnations seemed to blur as his feet pedaled faster. It’s like his body knew you were close, wanting to be with you as fast as possible. His breathing was uneven as he took the path past the roses. My goodness if he didn’t crave you since that first day at the flower stand. Didn’t want to spend every waking second with you. He was a goner from the beginning.
He let his bike fall unceremoniously at the edge of the tree line. Everything seemed to fade as he spotted you in the distance. You were in his favorite sundress. A smile painted his lips as he grew closer. Did MeeMaw tell you to wear it or did you wear it because this was the first you’d seen him since he graduated two weeks ago? Your back was to him, your attention was caught by an early blooming sunflower.
His stomach was rolling with every step he took. He couldn’t remember a time he had ever been this nervous in his life. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He wasn’t even this nervous the first time he visited your secret garden. He stepped on a twig accidentally, alerting you that he was there.
“Robby?” you gasped, running to him.
You leapt into his arms, peppering him with kisses. He felt dizzy being so close to you after what felt like an eternity. The sweet perfume you wore had his heart thrumming. Then your lips were on his, tongue teasing the seam of his lips. His brain started going fuzzy as you sucked on his bottom lip gently. He moaned, fire spreading through his veins.
“Sunflower,” he panted, pulling back. He needed to ask you quick before his brain turned to mush under those plush lips.
“I missed you so much, Lemon,” you breathed huskily.
Heat rushed up his neck at the nickname. “I missed you more,” he countered before quickly pecking your lips.
“Impossible.” You laughed.
The air was knocked out of his lungs as you smiled up at him, gorgeous eyes focused on him. The small sunflower necklace he gifted you for Christmas glimmered in the warm sun. You were perfect.
“Will you marry me?” He blurted out.
Your smile fell. Shit. He had a whole speech. He was going to get down on one knee. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins had him jumping the gun. He swallowed thickly, anticipating a no.
“Robby?” you asked hesitantly.
He took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. He felt like he could vomit. He should’ve listened to that nagging feeling in his gut. This was too soon. MeeMaw didn’t know you as well as she thought.
“Robby, stop,” you said sweetly.
He didn’t realize he started pacing until you put a gentle hand on his arm. He sucked in a sharp breath, looking at the ghost of a smile on your lips. His breath hitched. The evening sun was streaming through the trees just right, making you look like an angel.
“Do you mean it, baby?” you asked, fidgeting on your feet. Your lip found a home between your teeth.
“Yes,” he said shakily. His heart was in his ears. “I had a whole speech planned out, I was going to get down on one knee, I was—”
You pressed your lips to his, ending his rambling. A gentle hand caressed his cheek, coaxing him to melt into you. His mind went blank as your lips dominated his. Was this the last kiss? Was this goodbye?
“Yes,” you breathed, brushing your nose against his. “I will marry you, Robby.”
“Yes?” he gasped, trying to process what was happening.
“Yes,” you repeated with a nod.
He kissed you hard. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. He swept you into his arms, spinning you around the small garden. Tears were spilling down his cheeks. You said yes. He was flying high above the clouds.
“I love you, Robby,” you whispered in his ear before sucking on the lobe gently.
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Bob’s shoulders sagged as he walked to the mailroom. It had been a grueling four weeks so far in Pensacola. He still had two weeks left before he could head to flight school in Corpus Christi. Two weeks until he could be closer to you. His heart ached for you. Somehow his time in Florida seemed worse than the year apart the two of you spent as he finished his undergrad degree. He felt like the hazy afterglow of your engagement was abruptly cut short. He wanted more time with you. Wanted to celebrate more with you, but you knew what you were getting into. This was just the beginning of a career full of deployments and time spent away.
“Got another package today, Floyd,” the mail clerk said as soon as he stepped foot in the building.
“Feel like a pie?” he asked lightly, all but running to the desk. You had sent him a pie once a week since he left. His stomach growled at the prospect. He missed your food. Missed actually enjoying his dinner. The food just wasn’t the same if you weren’t sitting next to him eating it.
“I don’t know,” the clerk said playfully. “Might have to inspect this one personally for contraband.”
Bob was buzzing as he took the heavy package from the man. The thought of your strawberry pie already had his mouth watering. He barely thanked the clerk before bounding down the steps outside, two at a time. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he ran to his bunk. He was desperate to feel close to you, even if he talked to you on the phone every night. If eating an entire strawberry pie in one sitting was the way he could have you close to him, he would do it.
The excitement that washed over him waned only as he reached for the door. If his roommate was in, he’d have to offer him a piece. The seed of jealousy that lingered in the pit of his stomach started to grow. He didn’t want to share any piece of you with anyone, least of all Boone. But the lights were off, his bunkmate nowhere to be found.
Bob greedily tore into the package, smile filling his face. A beautiful strawberry pie was smiling up at him. He was going to have to ask you how you managed to pack them so well that they never were ruined in transit. He’d seen his fair share of ruined baked goods in the last four weeks. His hands shook as he carefully slid the pie from the box. He felt like Indiana Jones delicately removing an artifact from its secret hiding place. But this was perhaps more important. It was his favorite pie, from his favorite person on the planet.
After the pie was safely placed in the center of his desk, Bob reached for the box, ready to toss it out of the way. But something caught his eye. A bright yellow envelope stared back at him. Your beautiful writing had his breathing irregular. A blush crept onto his cheeks as he picked it up, realizing there was a photo or photos inside. Did you send him a few more polaroids to get through the six-week course? He felt dizzy at the thought. The pie was long forgotten in his need to see his beautiful sunflower in a way that no one else would.
Robby, call me before you open this. XO, Your Sunflower
His heart was pounding as he fumbled to pull out his phone. The two of you had done this once right before his final exams. You had caught him off guard, but that made it hotter in a way for him. He would’ve overthought everything if he knew what was coming. His blood was on fire, thinking about what could be in the envelope. He could feel his pants tightening as he dialed your number.
“Robby?” you answered almost immediately.
Your voice sent a chill through him. “Sunflower,” he breathed, huskily.
“Baby,” you whimpered on the other end. The crack in your voice had him on high alert, hair sticking up on the back of his neck.
“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” he asked quickly, trying to keep his breathing even. His stomach churned as his brain worked through all the worst-case scenarios. Were you hurt? Had you changed your mind? Were you dumping him?
“I just miss you so much, Robby,” you sniffled. The sound of your tears gutted him. “I wish you were here.”
“Hey, now,” he said gently. God, he’d give anything to pull you into his arms. “Two more weeks, Sunflower. Then we’ll be closer.”
“Open the envelope, baby,” you whispered.
Bob gulped, balancing the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He was clueless as to what could be waiting for him. Panic clawed at his gut. He pulled out a picture, slightly larger than a polaroid. It was facing away from him. He swallowed thickly, flipping it so the image was facing him. Tears pricked in his eyes as he took in the black and white photo before him.
“Sunflower?” He gasped, a small smile filling his face. “Are you? Are we? But we?”
“Guess you didn’t pull out quick enough after you proposed,” you teased. He could still hear the quake in your voice.
“Talk to me, sweet girl,” he said hoarsely. His tears were falling freely. A dad? He was going to be a dad?
“I’m so scared, Robby,” you admitted with a sob.
“Sunflower,” he cooed. “Breathe for me, sweetheart.” He took a deep breath. “Have you told MeeMaw?”
“She went with me to the appointment,” you sighed.
“Was she…is she…”He pinched the bridge of his nose. He would go toe to toe with that woman if she upset your further.
“She’s happy,” you laughed.  “But she made sure I knew she’d support me no matter what we decide.”
He sucked in a deep breath. His heart stopped. “What do you want to do, sweet girl?” He paused. “I’m alright with whatever you want to do.”
“People are gonna think you only proposed because you knocked me up.” He heard you take a deep breath. “Your parents are gonna think you only proposed because you got me pregnant, Robby.” The panic in your voice had him feeling unsettled.
“Everyone can fuck off,” he hissed. “We know the truth, Sunflower, and that would be enough for me.”
He heard your soft cries on the other end and he felt his heart shattering. This wasn’t a part of his plan, yours either. It wouldn’t be easy for either of you. But there was an itch nagging him. Excitement coursing through him with every passing second. The opportunity to raise a human with you. The three of you could grow as a family. But he kept the joy bubbling within him hidden deep in the pit of his stomach. He was following your lead.
“I can’t shake the thought of someone that’s half you and half me,” you admitted after a beat. “Can’t help but imagine a baby with those beautiful blues looking up at us in the flower fields…Another reason for you to come home.”
“I’m always coming home to you, sweet girl,” he whispered, his own tears falling once again. He felt like he was flying. “Both of you,” he asserted.
“Baby, you’re gonna be a daddy,” you whispered.
“You’re going to be a momma,” he gasped, joy bubbling to the surface. He could barely see anything in front of him from how fast his tears were falling. “I love you so much, Sunflower.”
“Not as much as we love you, Robby,” you beamed.
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Bob stood, silently memorizing every inch of your sunflower garden. The lights his uncle and brother had hung from the trees made the small space seem more magical. The cool October breeze blowing on his neck, making him shiver despite his brow being drenched in sweat. The way the town preacher kept smiling at him sympathetically each time their eyes met. Somehow, he felt even more anxious than he ever had been. He gulped softly as he adjusted his glasses. He felt so exposed standing in the altar of sunflowers, waiting for his very own sunflower to meet him in a pretty white dress.
His heart was pounding in his ears as his uncle’s truck came to a puttering halt. That was how he knew you were about to join him. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as it all hit him. You were going to walk out of the sunflower garden as his wife. He would be your husband. He bit his lip, trying to tamp down his smile, but he couldn’t. He was a kid on Christmas, but it was the beginning of forever.
He couldn’t help but laugh as Fizzgig made his way down the makeshift aisle, a bowtie around his neck, a basket with the rings in his mouth. The two of you wanted an intimate ceremony, family only. That left you both without bridal parties, and Fizzy as your ring bearer. You had been training the old Australian shepherd to walk down the aisle to Bob. He knew he was imagining it, but the pup seemed to be smiling up at him as he retrieved the basket.
Time seemed to stop when he looked up. His breathing stopped all together. He was barely able to function around you, always taken aback by your beauty. But this was different. You were always beautiful to him. When you were in an old shirt and a pair of his shorts, when you wore sundresses that had his knees buckling, but the sight of you in a wedding dress? Tears formed in his eyes as he took in the sight of you. The dress clinging to you but not. It reminded him of his favorite sundress. The plunging neckline had his heart skyrocketing, the sight of your slightly larger breasts leaving him groaning internally. The sunflower pendant he gifted you smiled back at him the closer you got. Your hair framed your face, expertly styled by your friends earlier in the day. The sight of the flower crown atop your head had him wiping tears off his cheeks—sunflowers and clover.
MeeMaw kissed his cheek, dabbing at her eyes with an old kerchief as the two of you stopped before him. But he barely recognized anything other than the feeling of your hand in his. The electricity it shot through him. Your smile was the widest he’d ever seen it, putting him in a daze. You reached out, wiping away a stray tear from his cheek.
Hi, baby, you mouthed as the preacher began talking.
You look beautiful, he replied, barely registering what the man beside them was saying. He squeezed your hands, knees wobbling in the process. He felt like he was flying high above the atmosphere, like he’d won the lottery.
“The couple has chosen to write their own vows,” the preacher beamed, pulling Bob out of his trance.
You smiled at him, heat creeping up your neck. He squeezed your hands gently, encouraging you to start.
“Robby,” you said softly. His breath hitched at his name falling from your perfect lips. “I never believed in fate until I met you. I wasn’t supposed to work at the flower stand that first morning. Although, I have my suspicions we would’ve crossed paths even if I didn’t.” You looked pointedly at your grandma, making him laugh.
“Before you stumbled upon the flower stand, I was living a life like a flower growing in the shade. You have shown me warmth that I never want to be without.” Your voice cracked, tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. “You are my best friend, Robby, and I don’t want to know a day without your love, without you. So, today, I promise to love you for the rest of time. I promise to try to learn everything I can about fighter jets even if you still don’t know a carnation from a daisy.” A stray tear splashed onto your cheek. His thumb acted on its own accord, gently brushing it away. “I promise to make you strawberry pies, even if you’re hundreds of miles from home. I promise to love you with my whole heart, because you, Robby Floyd, deserve nothing but all my love.”
You brought his hands to your lips, kissing the backs of them gently, as more tears fell from your eyes. He felt light at your words. His heart felt full at your promises.
“Robert?” The preacher asked softly.
Bob smiled, looking at your hands holding his. His stomach rolled as he looked into your beautiful eyes. He had been fretting over writing his vows for weeks. His poor bunkmates were sick of hearing him try different lines, starting from scratch when something just didn’t feel right.
“My beautiful sunflower.” His voice cracked. “I had my life planned out since I was ten. I was going to join the Navy, become a pilot, travel the world. But not all things go to plan.” He watched your smile grow as you slid a hand down to your barely noticeable bump. His heart swelled. Everyone there already knew about Clover. His parents weren’t shy in sharing why they refused to attend their youngest son’s wedding. “And thank heavens for that. I don’t think my life would be complete without you in it.” He let a hand move so his large fingers splayed over your soft skin and the soft fabric of your white dress. “I don’t even know how I was able to form coherent words that first day at the flower stand. I was convinced that I had died alongside the road and you were an angel.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Growing up, we were always told to stay close to people who feel like sunshine. Sweet girl, you are my sun. You are my moon and all the stars in the sky. I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it.” He adjusted his glasses, wiping a tear from his eye. “So, my sunflower, I vow myself to you today. I vow to support you and cherish you. I vow to protect you and care for you, no matter what life throws at us. I vow to love you until I take my last breath.”
You reached up, wiping his tears away as the preacher droned on about the symbolism of exchanging rings. You were almost his wife. He was thrumming with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to have you slide the solid gold band over his finger. Couldn’t wait to slide the matching band over your finger. Couldn’t wait to officially be yours.
It felt like he blinked and the next thing he knew, he was being instructed to kiss you for the first time as his wife. Your supple lips had his head spinning as he tried desperately to control himself. Your families were right beside you after all, but he desperately wanted to kiss you deeply. Wanted to find himself buried deep within his perfect wife. He wanted to whisk you away to the hotel room his brothers graciously gifted the two of you. Wanted to just skip the reception, but the smile on your face had his words dying on his tongue.
“Robby,” you gasped as he gently sucked on your earlobe. The photographer left you to alone after she was satisfied with what she captured. Tucked away in the trees, it was the first moment the two of you had alone since the night before. He was desperate for you.
“My beautiful wife,” he rasped in your ear, causing you to shudder. His dress pants were incredibly tight, bordering uncomfortable.
“Robby, we…oh,” you gasped as his thumbs gingerly traced your sensitive nipples through the soft fabric of your dress. “Baby, we…we can—oh.” He slipped his fingers under the material. You threw your head back, a silent moan falling from your lips at the brush of his calloused fingers.
His blood was on fire as you looked at him with lust blown eyes. He tweaked your pert nipple, causing you to squeak. You pulled him into a searing kiss, his hands still working diligently. Fuck. You were so hot. You were his sexy wife. He needed you so badly.
“We have to be quick,” you panted in his ear.
Bob closed his eyes, thanking his lucky stars that you were his.
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Bob opened his eyes, moaning at the sight of you. Lacy blue fabric clung to your every curve as you moved yourself slowly on his wranglers. He could already feel a pool of your arousal soaking the fabric. Five years. It had been five years since you became his wife, and he still couldn’t get enough of you. Your eyes were absolutely blown as you gently traced the planes of his naked chest.
“Happy anniversary, Mrs. Floyd,” he said huskily, reaching out for you. His hands landing on your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples through the thin fabric. A thrill shot through him as you arched into his hands. He felt like he was twenty-two again, about to fuck his wife against a tree.
“Happy anniversary, Mr. Floyd,” you purred, leaning down and connecting your lips.
He felt dizzy. He felt like he was flying. And when you worked yourself against the large bulge in his jeans, he felt like he was on fire. All the worries that had been gnawing at the back of his mind vanished. He didn’t wonder if you were happy, if he had done right by you. Your breathy moans were answer enough for him. The way your lips sucked gently on the lobe of his ear had him barely remembering his name.
“How…it doesn’t feel like five years,” he panted. He was going to blow his load if you didn’t stop. “Are you sure we didn’t just get married in your sunflower garden?”
You sat back on your heels, earning a groan in protest from him. You had a mischievous glint in your eye that had his heart working double-time. He’d grown to love and hate that look.
“There’s not a baby in my belly this time around, Robby,” you whispered. Bob’s heart was hammering in his ears. Were you going to say what he thought you were? “I…I want…can we…” You closed your eyes, gulping almost comically. “I stopped taking my birth control last month.”
Bob pulled you into his arms, trapping your lips in a kiss. He felt tears pricking in his eyes. The two of you wanted a big family. Both of you had dreamed of it since you were kids. But raising Clover had been hard on both of you. MeeMaw helped you so much in those first two years. Made damn sure you still got your degree. Made sure the little girl you both created was so well loved and cared for. She even bought a flower farm an hour away from his permanent station, moving with you.
The two of you tabled the idea of more kiddos as you navigated the beginning of his career. The timing never felt right. Clover was still too dependent on you, and he wasn’t able to help ease some of the burden from an hour away. But she was five now, entering kindergarten. MeeMaw had been hinting for years that she wanted more great grandbabies.
“Want another baby, momma?” He asked with a shaky breath.
“Want you to put a baby in me, daddy,” you husked.
Images of your swollen belly filled his mind. If possible, he grew harder. He had missed so much of your pregnancy with Clover. Missed a majority of your ultrasounds and doctor visits. He so desperately wanted to see you swollen with his child. Wanted to hold you at night, his hand resting on the swollen bump.
He crashed his lips to yours, frantically trying to undo the button of his jeans. He needed to be buried deep inside you. Needed to stuff you full of his seed. He whimpered as your deft fingers helped him, not stopping until his cock sprang from his underwear, slapping the bottom of his belly. Your soft hands gently stroked him and he was seeing stars. You’d teased him from the minute the two of you got into the room and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last.
“Need to feel you,” he whined as you sucked a mark into his neck. “Need my pussy.”
He watched with lidded eyes as you slid the lacy thong to the side, sliding his throbbing dick through your folds. He moaned at how wet you were for him. You shivered at the brush of the angry tip against your clit, making his mouth dry. You repeated the action a few more times, making him feel lightheaded.
“Please,” he begged. “Please, Sunflower.”
“Shhh, Lemon,” you soothed, sliding yourself completely down his length.
He let out a whine as your velvety walls squeezed him just right. You kissed the corner of his mouth before bouncing on his length at an excruciatingly slow pace. His hands found your breasts again as his balls began to tingle. Fuck. He wanted to last for you. He closed his eyes, arching into you, drawing out a loud moan. The image of that swollen belly waited behind his eyes.
His eyes snapped open. He felt like a switch was flipped on deep in his brain. The primal urge to see that round belly suddenly consumed him. He ripped the front of your bodysuit, exposing your bare breasts to him. He licked and sucked at your nipples while you writhed above him. His hips pistoned into you, faster with every second. He watched with wide eyes as you threw your head back, as your breasts bounced in rhythm with his hips.
The orgasm he held at bay was building. Bob could feel it coming like a tidal wave. He flipped you both so he could drive himself into you faster, harder, brushing that spongy spot deep within your womb. “Robby,” you moaned, digging your nails into his back. He felt you clenching down on him.
He brought a hand down, tracing your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your orgasm washed over you almost instantaneously. He watched as your eyes rolled back, a garbled string of ‘I love yous’ falling from your lips. Your walls clamped down on him like a vice and his vision waned. He was vaguely aware of his hips moving as he painted your walls white. Vaguely aware of his beautiful wife collapsing on his chest once he fell over, completely spent. Your hot tears pooled on his chest. His own cheeks seeming damp as he seemingly blacked out.
You were tracing gentle circles on his chest when he came to.  His cock was still buried in your sweet pussy, telling him it wasn’t all a dream.
“Don’t think I came that hard since the Navy ball last year,” you whispered against his neck. Your hot breath tickling him.
“Don’t think I came that hard since you gave me that blow job in the car after my first deployment,” he admitted huskily. He was already growing hard again at the thought.
“Will you bring me back here one day so we can enjoy the beach and the town?” you asked with a chuckle.
“Sweet girl, we can explore tomo—” You pressed a finger to his lips, shaking you head gently.
“If you think I’m letting you out of this room for a second, Robby Floyd,” you purred, “you’re not the Robby that I married.”
He chuckled gently, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes fluttered shut as you placed open mouthed kisses on his chest. He groaned gently, feeling his blood ignite under your touch. Next summer. He would bring you back next summer.
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Bob’s eyes fluttered open, birds chirping as the early morning sun filtered in through the windows. His mind was in a bleary haze. It was Sunday. He wanted five more minutes, burying his face into the crook of your neck. The sweet perfume of your shampoo overwhelmed him, a soft groan leaving his lips. You stirred beneath him, a hand travelling to find his. He pressed himself closer to you, tracing your swollen bump with the pad of his thumb as he kissed the sensitive flesh of your neck.
“I love you, Sunflower,” he whispered.
You moaned softly, reaching around for his cheek. A set of small feet kicked the small of his back, making him giggle. He kept a hand on you, propping himself up on an arm. All his girls were in bed with him, as per tradition before a deployment. Clover was on the far end, acting as a barrier between her youngest sister, Lily, and the edge of the bed. Camellia was behind him, eyes barely slits.
His heart ached as he looked at the four of you, sleeping in on a Sunday morning. His girls. He felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes as he tried to burn the image into his mind. Cami was snoring away like his uncle, wearing one of his old TOP GUN shirts that fit her like a floor length ballgown. Dr. Phillips claimed she would start sprouting like a weed, just like Clover did, but Bob wasn’t quite sure when. Lily was half her age and catching up quickly.
Clover was in a Batman pajama set, brows pinched like she was giving a stern lecture in her sleep. His ten-year-old was his no-nonsense child. She was as fierce as her momma and her MeeMaw. Lily was in an old pair of Clover’s Power Rangers pjs. It took the two of you three kids to finally make one that resembled him in the slightest, in his opinion. You would argue with him for hours that none of them looked like you, but he didn’t see it. He saw your smile on their faces. The same crinkle of their noses when they laughed. At least Lily needed glasses. It made him feel like he contributed to the gene pool somehow.
And then there was you. His beautiful sunflower. Eight months pregnant with Marigold, his fifth girl if he counted you. You had on a pale blue sports bra and a pair of his old running shorts. Your hair was running in every which way, mouth open slightly as soft snores slipped from your lips. He leaned down, kissing your hair. You were the most beautiful woman to walk the Earth.
The birds chirped louder as the sun shined from a higher spot than before. A frustrated sigh left his lips. He wasn’t supposed to leave you. Wasn’t supposed to be deployed for a while after being sent on three missions in a row. He was supposed to be on the ground until his contract was up. But his C.O. told him he was being called back to TOP GUN for a special mission. He had to report first thing on Monday morning.
Bob never enjoyed breaking your heart. It gutted him when he saw you cry. Nearly killed him every time he told you he got papers and had to ship out. But this time around felt different. The stakes felt higher for some reason. Dread blossomed deep in his gut as soon as he was told he needed to report to Miramar and it only seemed to grow as he told you. You wept in his arms for what felt like an eternity.
“Robby?” you rasped, voice still cloaked by sleep.
“Shhhh, momma,” he whispered, leaning in. He brushed the hair from your face, softly kissing your lips. “I have to get ready, Sunflower.”
“Five more minutes, baby,” you begged. The crease between your brows appeared. “Please. Don’t go yet, Rob—”
“Phoenix, Bob, punch out,” Mav yelled through the comms.
It was all a blur. His brow was soaked with sweat, heart beating so rapidly he would damn near faint if his life wasn’t on the line. The montage of his life seemed to play in slow motion as the plane spun out of control. Every kiss, every touch flooded his eyes. Every ‘daddy, I love you’ filling his ears. Your sweet voice calmly telling him to eject. You begging him to come home, begging him to not resign once his contract was done. Just a few more months left and he could help you on the farm.
“Eject, eject,” Phoenix barked.
“I’m always coming home to you, sweet girl,” Bob whispered before pulling the emergency handle.
The altitude wasn’t optimal to eject, he knew that. He was trying to figure out just how badly it would hurt when he landed on the harsh desert floor. He was going to vomit. The nagging realization that he almost would’ve left you widowed with four little girls to raise keeping his stomach churning. He patted the breast pocket of his flight suit where he kept the photo of you from your wedding day and the family photo you insisted on having taken for Christmas.
“I’m coming home to you, Sunflower,” his voice shook right before he hit the ground. It was the last thing he remembered.
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You weren’t sure how you made it to Miramar in one piece. You hadn’t stopped crying since you got a call that Robby had a training accident. Your knees ached still from collapsing when the call came in. Your stomach had been sour during the almost five hour ride. You had puked during one of your many pee breaks.
The bouquets Clover had been making with MeeMaw sat in the passenger seat of the old truck, weighing your heart down further. Your girls never signed up for this. The unknown, the danger. You took a calming breath as you killed the engine. They wouldn’t tell you his condition on the phone, just that he had an accident.
Your world seemed to tip as you stood outside of the truck. You hadn’t been able to keep anything down, nor did you want to try. A silent sob left your lips as you clutched the truck bed. You were afraid you would tumble to the asphalt if you didn’t. You needed water, maybe some toast, but first you needed your Robby.
The woman at the front desk seemed startled to see you when you burst through the doors. You knew how frazzled you had to look. She probably thought you were going into labor. On a normal day, you would’ve joked with her about it, but you needed to see Robby. You needed to know if he was okay.
“Lost?” a deep voice asked as you paced the hall of the fourth floor for the third time.
You stopped in your tracks to see a painfully handsome man smiling at you. Sunkissed blonde locks shrouding his head, devastating green eyes studying you. At eight months pregnant you were shocked to see anyone looking at you with such a ferocity, anyone that wasn’t your husband at least.
“Trying to find someone,” you sighed, fidgeting on your feet. The walking was taking a toll on your lower back, the soles of your feet screaming in pain.
“Maybe I can help, sweets,” he purred, stepping closer to you.
You couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your cheeks. Robby told you all the time you looked beautiful, especially when you were pregnant, but it felt different coming from Mr. Sex-on-legs. Maybe he could help you. The woman at the desk downstairs told you to go to four and find a nurse at the main desk. The whole unit seemed more barren than the deserts you passed to get there.
“Think you can help me find someone?” Your voice faltered as he stepped even closer. The intoxicating scent of jet fuel filled your nose. How long did it take before you fell in love with that scent? You begged Robby to wear his flight suit home just so you could smell it on him.
“Hangman?” A taller man called, approaching the two of you. The thick mustache had you filling in blanks as he got closer.
“Rooster,” the blonde hissed.
“Ma’am,” the brunette said as he smiled politely.
You nodded gently, shrinking at the name. It made you feel like an old maid. You bit your lip as you watched the two awkwardly square off. You desperately wanted to find Robby. You waddled down the hall, peering into rooms, trying to find your husband.
“Just trying to help a fallen angel, Rooster,” Hangman hissed as you passed another vacant room.
You couldn’t help but chuckle. Robby had informed you of all the tensions throughout training.
“Mrs. Floyd?” a familiar voice called out.
You turned to find a short older man walking towards you with a grim expression. He must be Maverick. He called you to deliver the news, claimed he wanted to let you know himself. Robby talked up the captain, saying his methods were unique, bordering groundbreaking.
“Can one of you find a nurse?” Mav asked, looking past you. He put a hand gently on the small of your back, guiding you down the hall. “He’s going to be alright,” he assured you.
It felt like all the air found your lungs again. You could breathe again, could relax a little. Your husband would be alright.
“They just want to keep him overnight for observation,” Maverick added, stopping.
Your heart was pounding as you peeked in. A small sob tore from your chest as you spotted your husband attached to various tubes and wires. Those soft curls glued to his forehead. His eyes were shut, mouth slightly ajar. Your feet moved on their own accord, carrying you to the man that held your heart. The bouquets your daughter made long forgotten on the edge of his bed.
“You scared me, Lemon,” you whispered, reaching out to brush the apple of his cheek.
Your eyes were glued to the rise and fall of his chest, needing the assurance he was alright. You leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead but had to stop. The room was spinning slightly. Your breathing became labored as you plopped into the chair behind you.
“Mrs. Floyd?” A man in blue scrubs asked rushing towards you. “Mrs. Floyd, Captain Mitchell said you seemed under the weather and asked if we could do a few tests to make sure you and your baby are alright.”
“I’m f…fine,” you deflected, looking at you still sleeping husband.
“Mrs. Floyd, when was the last time you had some water?” he pressed.
“I…I um…” you fumbled.
You still hadn’t taken your eyes off of your husband. Eyes still shut even as the man fussed over you. You didn’t hear a damn word he was saying honestly. All you could think of was the small cut that the curls did little to hide. A small kick from your daughter had your eyes welling with tears. You wanted him to wake up. Needed him to wake up.
“Mrs. Floyd, we’re going to move you into the room right next door,” he continued, gently tugging on your arm.
“I can’t leave my husband,” you protested. Bile rose in your throat at the thought. What if something happened while you were gone? What if Maverick had lied to keep you calm? No one had told you what happened. No one told you what was going on with your husband.
“Mrs. Floyd, your husband will be fine, but your baby,” the man sighed.
“Excuse me,” a voice floated from the door. You looked up to see Maverick smiling at you sympathetically. “Why don’t I sit with Bob for a while,” he suggested as he stepped closer. “I’ll keep an eye on him and come get you if he wakes up.”
You looked back at Robby, small smile on his lips as his chest rose and fell at an even pace. You knew the nurse was right. You felt lightheaded just sitting down. Maverick could keep an eye on your husband, he had been doing just fine for the past few weeks.
“Promise?” you asked feebly, locking your gaze with Maverick’s.
“Cross my heart,” he said solemnly motioning over his chest.
From your first wobbly step to the painful blood draw, time seemed to move at a snail’s pace. Your stomach was doing somersaults as you wondered why Maverick hadn’t come to get you. Was Robby truly alright. Your heart sped up, providing a steady backbeat within the room. Tears threatened to spill. He had to be alright. You couldn’t raise your daughters without him.
Hangman cleared his throat from the chair beside you. “Bob never told us he had such a beautiful wife,” he teased as the nurse hooked you up to an IV.
“Didn’t.” You paused, hissing as the line was placed in your hand. “Didn’t want you all to get jealous.”
“Too late.” He shrugged as he talked over your rapidly beating heart monitor. “I’ve seen you and I’m extremely jealous.” He paused, looking over the bed. His exaggerated eyebrow raise had you laughing.
“Didn’t tell us he had a little one on the way either,” Rooster said motioning towards your stomach. “Know the gender?”
“A girl,” you smiled, resting a hand on your bump. “Our fourth.” You closed your eyes as the saline drip started.
“Four?” both men gasped in unison.
“Bet you didn’t think my husband was a ladies’ man through and through,” you teased, smiling wider. Your little girl kicked again, seemingly agreeing that it was funny how little her daddy’s squadron knew about him. Your brow pinched suddenly. “Is his pilot alright?” you choked out. You had been so worried about Robby that you forgot that he didn’t fly his plane alone.
 “She’s fine,” Rooster promised, grabbing your free hand. “Phoenix is tough. Wants to go home already so she can get back in the air tomorrow.”
You hummed, closing your eyes. Robby told you that Natasha was a spitfire. He claimed she was the best pilot he’d ever flown with.
“Why don’t you get some sleep, sweets?” Jake suggested gently. “I’m sure you and—”
“Marigold,” you filled in automatically. The pair of you had a handful of names left that you both liked, all flower themed at your husband’s insistence.
“Why don’t you and Marigold take a nap?” Rooster continued. “We’ll wake you up if anything changes.”
You wanted to protest, but your eyelids stayed shut. The stress of the day taking its toll on you as sleep had you in its clutches instantly.
Not a single bird chirped outside your window as you marched towards his closet. The sky seemed overcast, or maybe it was the hole in your chest skewing it all. Your shoulders were slumped forward as you switched on the light. You thought all your tears had dried up by now, but seeing a room full of clothes your husband would never wear again had the floodgates opening up.
“There’s a shoebox on the shelf next to where I keep my ties,” he had explained once. “If anything ever happens, open it.”
You knew they all did it. They all had contingency plans. But you hoped the two of you would never have to acknowledge it. A sob poured from you. You always thought you’d ask Robby about the box when you were old and gray, grandkids running through the yard. But there you were, barely able to function enough to grab the damn thing from its place. You didn’t know how you were going to go on without him. How you were going to tell your daughters that daddy wasn’t coming home.
You barely noticed as your knees collided with the floor, the box clutched tightly in your hands. Your tears were blinding you as you opened the lid. Photos of you and your husband smiled back at you, making your stomach turn. Pictures you never knew he took of you, of your girls. Small mementos he had collected over the years.
You didn’t know how long it took you to delicately lift each memory your husband curated before you found them. Five brightly colored envelopes glared at you. The yellow one had your name on it, a perfectly drawn sunflower on the front. You tore into it like it was the only thing keeping you breathing. What did he leave for you? What parting words did he think would be enough to keep you going? You pulled the lined paper out, bracing yourself.
A loud sob filled the closet. It was blank. It was a joke, right? You opened Clover’s envelope, only to find another blank sheet of paper. You opened Camellia’s and Lily’s, even Marigold’s. They were all blank. All empty, like you. Hollow, disappointing. You wailed, throwing the box against the wall. How could he do that? How could your Robby hurt you so much?
“Sunflower,” he hummed in your ear. You were hallucinating. “Sunflower, wake up.”
“Robby?” you gasped.
“Sunflower, please,” he begged.
“Sunflower, open those eyes, sweet girl,” he cried.
Your eyes fluttered open, tears streaking your cheeks. Your heart was pounding, your lungs working double time to right themselves. It was a dream? You looked over to see your husband sitting beside you in a hospital gown, worry eating up his brow.
“Robby?” you whispered. Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to convince yourself you woke up.
“Shhh, sweet girl,” he cooed, pulling you into his arms.
He smelled too sterile, too much like iron. He wasn’t your Robby. “You…you didn’t…they were blank,” you blubbered.
“It was a dream, darlin’,” he soothed. He rubbed circles on your back. “I promise.”
You took deep breaths, listening to the delicate thrum of his heart. You weren’t dreaming. You were in Miramar. Your husband was beside you. Your stomach rolled.
“You scared me,” you whispered somberly.
“I’m sorry for what I did in your dream, Sunflower,” he said lightly.
The hint of the smile you loved teased his lips, making your heart flutter. It took everything you had to keep a stern face. “Robby,” you sighed.
He clutched your hand, pulling it to his lips. “It was just a training accident,” he said innocently. “You didn’t need to rush down here.”
“You’re in the hospital, baby,” you added with a frown. “If you think I wasn’t going to come, you must be married to a different Sunflower.”
“I’m happy you’re here,” he said kissing your palm. “Didn’t feel right to celebrate our anniversary without you by my side.”
Heat crept up your cheeks. You had forgotten all about it. Your heart was pounding as you realized that for the first time, you had forgotten your anniversary.
“Hey, hey,” he said cupping your face in his hands. “Calm down for me. It’s okay.” He kissed your forehead. “We’re okay. I’m fine. The doctors said you were dehydrated, but you and Marigold are alright.”
“I got so scared when Maverick called,” you admitted as tears rolled down your cheeks. “Thought I was gonna have to te—”
He shook his head, cutting you off. His own tears were falling freely. “I promised you, I’d always come home to you, Sunflower,” he sniffled. His lips brushed yours gently, sending a shiver through you.
“My Robby doesn’t break promises,” you breathed onto his lips. You pulled him back in for one more kiss, letting the warmth wash over you.
A soft knock on the door had you both looking up. Maverick was standing in the door, sympathetic smile on his lips. “Sorry to ah…interrupt,” he muttered. “But there’s a whole team in the waiting room with a whole lot of questions.”
Your husband rolled his eyes, making you giggle. “Think someone can get me a chocolate milkshake?” you asked sheepishly.
“I’ll get it myself,” he said quickly with a nod before disappearing.
“You don’t have to do this,” your husband whispered.
“It’s okay, baby,” you promised, squeezing his hand. “It’ll be nice for them to know just how much pressure is on them to bring you home from this.”
Robby rested his head against yours, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. There was no point in arguing with you. You let your eyes close, his presence grounding you. Your heart rate evening out. The small kiss to the spot beneath your ear had the heart monitor hiccupping.
“Happy anniversary, Mrs. Floyd,” he whispered, sending gooseflesh over you.
“Happy anniversary, Mr. Floyd,” you parroted, smiling weakly.
Part Three coming eventually!
Tagging anyone I think might be interested! @sylviebell @xcastawayherosx @bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @roosterforme @sebsxphia @ereardon @townmoondaltwistle @waklman @sugarcoated-lame @rhettabbotts @taytaylala12 @teacupsandtopgun @gg-trini
I do not consent to my work being copied, translated, or published elsewhere. This isn't cross posted anywhere, so if you see it, please let me know!
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taizi · 11 months
Note
If you’re still taking prompts… disaster twins being disasters?
x
Casey can remember being this excited maybe once or twice before in his entire life, but that’s it. He doesn’t realize he’s bouncing in his seat until Michelangelo flops over him, arms folded around Casey’s shoulders and chin propped up on top of his head, grin present in the bright tone of his voice. 
“We might be hyping this up too much,” the youngest Hamato—second-youngest, now, Casey reminds himself somewhat shyly—says good-naturedly. “It’s just a spar, CJ.” 
“I know,” Casey says quickly, clamping his hands on his knees. He feels like a little kid again, being warned that if he can’t sit still he can’t stay in the dojo to watch training. That’s not anywhere near what Mikey said, but he’s not risking it! He refuses to miss this! “But it’s just—I haven’t seen sensei spar with anyone but Commander O’Neil in ages.”
He doesn’t say that Uncle Raph was killed when Casey was so young that he barely got to keep any memories of him. He definitely doesn’t say that when Uncle Tello died, sensei destroyed a string of Krang corps single-handedly, stumbled home half-dead, and then didn’t come out of the silent lab for three days. When he did finally emerge, some intrinsic, important part of him was gone for good. 
By then, Master Michelangelo was too brittle for physical combat, pouring all of himself into the mystic arts instead. April was the only one left who was unafraid to drag Master Leonardo onto the mats, to bring some life back into him. And it was fun to watch, but it wasn’t those high-energy spars he could remember being awed by when he was a child, when all four of the turtles were together and the apocalypse seemed like something they might survive after all. 
“I bet I whooped his butt, too,” April interjects loudly from the cozy-looking beanbag chair she dragged into the dojo. Leo shoots her a mock-offended look, hand over his heart, the whole nine yards. 
He’s wearing a pair of bright pink cordless headphones, and his warm-up stretches have a lot more energetic bopping around than perhaps strictly necessary. Raph is smiling crookedly as he guides Leo through the forms, watching carefully for any sign of lingering tenderness or soreness and finding none. He’s probably as relieved as all the rest of their mismatched little clan that Leo has healed to this point—casts and leg brace finally discarded, energy ratcheted up to eleven. 
Across the mat, Donnie is pretending to be buried in his phone, but he’s watching Leo as raptly as Raphael. If he thought for a second that Leo was nursing some hidden-away hurt, he would find a way to divert the match without anyone the wiser. And it would be something needlessly showy and stupid, too—Casey has the sudden vision of a lair-wide blackout. He pats the penlight clipped to his belt to make sure it’s there, just in case. 
But Leo is in fine form, and Splinter steps onto the middle of the mat with a judicious air. 
“Now I want a clean match, boys,” he orders, arms folded. “No shenanigans!” 
“Aw, not even one?” Mikey pipes up. 
The Hamato patriarch considers this carefully, then says, “I will allow ONE shenanigan!”
“Alright Michael!” Leo cheers. “Use those favorite son privileges for good!” He barely dodges the half-hearted strike from Splinter’s tail. 
Then Raphael is placing his hands on Leo’s shoulders and giving him a friendly jostle, in the manner of ruffling a puppy’s ears to get it all riled up (a life-affirming maneuver that Casey only recently discovered for himself one early morning coffee run with Cass when they crossed paths with a nice lady and her wriggly baby pit bull) and Splinter is stepping back off the mat and Donnie is sliding his phone away. 
“Let me know if you need me to go easy on you, little brother,” Donnie says magnanimously. 
“You hatched four minutes before me,” Leo replies. His tone suggests this is an argument they’ve had at least one billion times. 
“No one likes a sore loser, Nardo.”
April makes a coughing, cackling sound, and then shouts, “Someone get ready to do the heimlich! My man’s gonna choke on that hypocrisy!” 
“APRIL, you were adopted and you can be replaced!” Donnie shouts back over everyone’s laughter. Casey feels like he’s sitting in the sun, surrounded on all sides by warmth and light. He was raised on the scraps of a ruined world, the scraps of love and joy that his family had left to offer him. They gave him everything they could, but he knew they were digging into the bottom of the well. Here, those things are a renewable resource. All the good just stretches and stretches and stretches forever. 
Master Leonardo was not a bitter person. But he was very rarely a happy one. Uncle Tello and Rapha were gone and Master Michelangelo was aging rapidly before his eyes, three times as quickly as he should have. April and mom and all the faces that Casey saw everyday were weary and worn thin, constantly braced for the next horrible thing to come. 
It heals something in Casey’s chest that he didn’t know was hurting to see them like this instead. A festering, years-old wound finally draining, finally given clean air and room to heal. April’s still heckling and Mikey is still draped over Casey, sturdy and boyish and the brightest thing for miles. Raphael is leaning against the wall, grinning, as eager to watch the show as everyone else. Splinter looks unrelentingly fond and also like he’s expecting this to be a trainwreck. 
In the second before Splinter calls the beginning of the match, Donnie’s eyes narrow suspiciously and he says, “Wait, what are you listening to?”
A shit-eating grin stretches across Leo’s face, and in lieu of answering out loud, he lifts a hand and dramatically finger-spells K-A-R-M-A. 
“Oooooooh,” Mikey and Raph and April all chorus delightedly. 
“Oh, goddammit,” Donnie bites out, visibly preparing to fight for his life. 
Then Splinter’s hands come down and the twins burst into movement. There are no weapons in their hands, it’s nowhere near as showy as their fight with the Krang had been, but it’s amazing in its own way. 
They’re fast, much faster than the masters of Casey’s timeline because they’re so little in comparison, lean and lithe and all gremlin energy. The two of them move like they know each other as well as their own selves, the blocks and blows meeting as if they were choreographed well in advance, and every step is so quick and so clean that Casey can barely follow it. Five minutes in, Leo’s eyes glow white and then Donnie’s do, and Donnie barks out a surprised laugh. 
Mikey yells, “No inside jokes that’s not fair!” 
“It’s a nice break from that song. I've heard him humming it in the back of my brain all day,” Raph says ruefully, then quickly holds his hands up when Leo’s head whips around in his direction. “No offense! I like it! Just not—not 16 times in a row, big guy.”
Splinter steps in the instant Leo winces, having landed too heavily on his bad leg after a showy flip. 
“Alright, silly melons, that’s enough. Match goes to neither of you because you play too much.” 
Whatever complaint the twins might have made is entirely forgotten as they turn to face their dad blankly. Donnie says, “I’m sorry, did you just call us silly melons?” 
“Melons are green, yes? And stupidly expensive at all times for no reason.” He pulls a paperback book out of the inner fold of his robe and thumbs through it. “Children like nicknames. The experts have said so.”
Looking torn between helpless confusion and hysterical laughter, Raph says, “What are you reading, pops?”
“Melons cost like $8 in Chinatown when they're in season, where the heck have you been shopping?” Mikey interjects loudly, shooting over the back of the couch like spending too much of the grocery fund on overpriced produce is the first and final straw. 
“Seriously, Splints, what are you reading?” April asks, trying to get the book from him. 
“Silly melons??” Donnie and Leo demand again. Training for the day is entirely derailed, though that might have been Splinter’s ploy in the first place. 
Master Leonardo wasn’t a bitter person. Despite the weight of the world on his shoulders and all the losses he carried around in his heart, Casey’s memories of him are good and warm and only bittersweet because of those final moments, and because of how much Casey misses him every day. Still—even if he was careful not to let it show—Casey knows that Master Leonardo didn’t have a lot of opportunities for joy. 
That’s the thing that’s taken the most getting used to here, Casey thinks, watching everyone. That’s the difference his family makes. This Leo doesn’t have to reach very far for a reason to smile. 
He glances over his shoulder and his smile widens to include Casey, and Casey hurries off the sidelines to join the rest of them. 
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theslasherslut · 9 months
Note
Do you accept orders from Yandere wally? If yes, you could do wally with the reader, where the reader rejects wally's dating request. The reader only sees Wally as a friend, and the reader is also determined to get out of Welcome Home and back into his real world.
Welcome Home, Darling: A Wally x Reader
Warnings: mentions of stalking kidnapping and bits of yonder behavior
A/n: I had fun writing this I hope you like it
_______
You open your eyes and blink a few times, blinded by the bright light. You look around and feel a surge of panic. Where the hell are you?
This is not your bedroom. The walls are not white, the floor is not carpeted, the ceiling is not plain. This is not your house. The furniture is not modern, the TV is not flat, the phone is not cordless. This is not your world. The toys are not electronic, the books are not realistic, the posters are not cool.
You are in a room that looks like it belongs to a freakin' children’s show, with colors that hurt your eyes, shapes that make no sense, and patterns that clash with each other. The air smells like candy and flowers, making you nauseous. The window has curtains that have smiling suns and clouds on them, mocking you. The door has a sign that says “Home”, lying to you.
"Home? What kind of sick joke is this?" you mutter to yourself as you get out of the bed with a quilt that has pictures of animals and flowers on it. It feels soft and warm against your skin, but you don't want to feel it. You kick it away from you as if it's infected.
You walk over to the dresser and stare at the mirror that is covered with stickers of stars and hearts. It shows your face, but it doesn't look like yours. Your hair is a different color, a neon pink that glows in the light. Your eyes are a different color, a crystal blue that sparkles in the dark. Your skin is a different tone, a lemon yellow that contrasts with everything else. You look like a cartoon character, not a human being.
"Who are you? What have they done to you?" you ask yourself as you touch your face, feeling for some sign of your old self.
You notice a display of makeup on the dresser, next to the mirror. They look like products from your favorite 80s brands, not makeup from a dresser. You see a compact with a blush and a bronzer, a palette with eyeshadows and a highlighter, a tube with a mascara and an eyeliner. You see a lipstick, a lip gloss, a lip liner. You see a brush, a sponge, a curler.
You feel a surge of curiosity and excitement. Maybe you can use the makeup to change your appearance and make yourself look more like yourself. Maybe you can use the makeup to have some fun and express yourself. Maybe you can use the makeup to escape from this nightmare and pretend it's all a game.
You grab the makeup and start applying it to your face. You don't care if it's too much or too little. You don't care if it's too bright or too dark. You don't care if it's too bold or too bland. You just care about feeling something other than fear and confusion.
You turn to the closet and grin at the sight of the clothes that beckon you inside. They are just right for your style and taste. They look like outfits from your favorite 80s movies, not clothes from a closet. You see a denim skirt with a graphic tee, a floral dress with a denim jacket, a pair of high-waisted jeans with a striped sweater. You see a pair of white sneakers, a pair of ballet flats, a pair of ankle boots. You see a bunch of headbands, earrings, and necklaces.
"You've got to be kidding me," you say as you jump up and down. "Is this some kind of treat? Cause it's a welcome diversion."
You grab some clothes and change into them quickly. You don't care if they match or fit well. You don't care if they are clean or wrinkled. You don't care if they are old or new. You just care about feeling something other than fear and confusion.
You hear the phone ring on the nightstand next to the bed. You walk over to it and pick it up cautiously.
"Hello?" you say hesitantly.
"Hello, apple." you hear his voice say cheerfully.
You shiver as you recognize his voice.
"Is it another one of your paintings?" you ask sarcastically.
You have no idea who he is or what he wants from you. You have never seen him before in your life. You don't even know his name. He just calls himself Wally Darling, and he calls you apple. He acts like you are his best friend, his lover, his everything. He says he loves you more than anything in the world. He says he brought you here to make you happy. He says he wants to spend every moment with you. He says he will never let you go.
You are terrified of him and his delusions. You don't know what he is capable of or what he will do to you if you don't play along with his fantasy. You don't know how to escape from him or from this place. You don't know if anyone can help you or if anyone even knows you exist.
You feel hopeless and helpless as you listen to his voice.
"No, it's not a painting this time." he says softly.
You hear him slide something under the door.
"It's a ticket." he says eagerly.
You look down and see a piece of paper with colorful letters and numbers on it.
"What is this?" you ask suspiciously.
"It's a ticket for our date today." he says excitedly.
"Our date? What date?" you ask incredulously.
"You know, our date. The one I asked you yesterday." he says casually.
"You didn't ask me anything yesterday." you say angrily.
"Yes, I did. Don't you remember? I came to your room and asked you if you wanted to go to the carnival with me today." he says confidently.
"I don't remember that." you say firmly.
"That's because you were asleep." he says slyly.
"You asked me when I was asleep?" you ask disbelievingly.
"Yes, I did. And you said yes." he says proudly.
"I did not!" you say defiantly.
"Yes, you did. You said yes in your sleep." he says insistently.
"That doesn't count!" you say desperately.
"Of course it does. It means that deep down inside, you really want to go with me." he says persuasively.
"That's ridiculous!" you say dismissively.
"No, it's not. It's romantic." he says dreamily.
"It's creepy!" you say fearfully.
"No, it's sweet." he says tenderly.
"It's insane!" you say frantically.
"No, it's love." he says passionately.
He pauses for a moment, then adds:
"Besides, it's too late to back out now. The carnival is starting soon, and we have to be there on time."
"Why? What's so special about the carnival?" you ask nervously.
He chuckles softly and says:
"Oh, apple. You'll see. You'll see soon enough."
He hangs up the phone and leaves you alone in your room.
You stare at the ticket in your hand and feel a chill run down your spine. It’s a glossy paper with rainbow letters that spell out “Welcome Home Carnival”. It has a barcode and a number that says “001”.
You wonder if you are the first or the only one to receive this invitation. You wonder what Wally has planned for you at the carnival.
What does he mean by “you’ll see soon enough”? And what will happen if you don’t go with him?
You feel like you are in a trap with no way out. You feel a cold sweat on your forehead and a tightness in your chest.
You feel like screaming, but you know no one will hear you. You wish this was all a bad dream that you could wake up from. But it’s not a dream.
It’s Welcome Home.
_____
Requests are open
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tumbleweed-palmer · 1 year
Note
 “i thought you’d at least ask me to be your valentine…” “we’ve been together for three years, i thought that was a given.” for our boy jimmy??
A Valentine's Misunderstanding
If anyone asked her she would quickly exclaim that James “Jimmy” Palmer was the world’s best boyfriend. He was the sweetest, most empathetic, intelligent, and funniest man she’d ever had the privilege of meeting not to mention dating.
Perhaps it was because of these things that today had been so disappointing for Y/N.
She’d always seen her boyfriend as being a romantic. Jimmy was a hopeless romantic and Valentine’s Day was for hopeless romantics.
It wasn’t as though Jimmy had ignored her today. In fact he’d been nothing but sweet to her. He’d just not said the words, the words she’d been waiting for, the words that would acknowledge that today was a special day.
She’d been waiting expectantly for those special words since their alarms had gone off this morning.
When he hadn’t woken her up with a kiss as well as the acknowledgement that today was Valentine’s Day, she’d not put too much thought into it.
After all, they'd been woken up with individual chimes on their cell phones notifying them of a case and the desperate need to leave their apartment quickly.
She’d thought that they were just so caught up in getting out the door and to NCIS headquarters, that they hadn’t had the chance to really say the words.
As the day had gone on Jimmy had continued to fail to acknowledge that today was unlike any other day.
Yes, he’d clearly at least made some small effort. Flowers had arrived for her down in the lab. It had been a substantial flower arrangement in a nice vase. She’d searched excitedly through the pink roses and stark white baby breath searching for a card.
She’d felt her heart sink with disappointment. She’d felt an uneasy pit fill up her gut as she’d spotted that the card included with the bouquet was a plain white card. The words written on it had been simple: “I love you, Love Jimmy.”
Though the message was sweet, she’d still felt disappointed that there hadn’t been much effort beyond this.
She’d tried hard not to let the disappointment be so evident on her face instead trying to remain cheerful as Abby had admired the pretty bouquet that her lab assistant had received.
Y/N felt awful for being so disappointed. A little voice in the back of her head told her she was being immature. She was a grown woman. She didn’t need chocolates, candy hearts, teddy bears, and Valentine’s Day cards.
The voice insisted that Valentine’s Day was so commercialized. Jimmy did plenty of things to express his love for her the other 364 days of the year. She was childish for expecting some big huge fawning attention just because society said that today was the day of love.
A louder voice in her brain though pointed out that Jimmy had never failed to make Valentine’s Day special before.
Their first year dating he’d gone all out for her. He’d bought her the biggest white teddy bear she’d ever received from anyone and had included a bouquet of a dozen daisies to celebrate. She’d in turn baked him a heart shaped cake knowing Jimmy Palmer had a sweet tooth and he was a big fan of her baked goods.
The last second Valentine’s Day they’d had together he’d continued to put a ton of effort into it. He’d paid to have a vintage reproduction of a Valentine’s card from the 1920s made for her because he knew she loved vintage Valentines and vintage things in general. He’d also bought her roses and a box of chocolates. She’d in turn given him a warm scarf that she’d knitted knowing he’d love it in the winter months and had baked him handmade apple strudels knowing he had a soft spot for pastries.
This year she’d been expecting another romantic gesture. She’d prepped for his gift. She’d bought him an expensive pair of cordless headphones knowing he’d like them on the days she couldn’t be his gym buddy. She’d wanted to present to him tonight. She’d even gone to a specialty bakery because she’d planned on making him Creme Brulee and had wanted to use authentic high-dollar ingredients. 
The day had worn on and on with no sign that Jimmy was going to do his usual attempt at making today special.
He’d not even acknowledged her today to be honest. She wanted to excuse his lack of presence. He usually visited her at least once a day in the lab. She’d tried to tell herself he was just busy with the case, but they’d been busy before and he still made time for her.
She’d even made her way to Autopsy to pay him a casual visit but had felt her heart sink when Dr. Mallard had told her that Jimmy had stepped out on an important errand for Dr. Mallard and wouldn’t be back for a few hours at the very least.
She’d gone back to the lab questioning why he hadn’t at least swung by the lab to alert her of his apparent errand. He usually seemed so desperate to find any reason or excuse to drop by the lab. Why did it feel like he was avoiding her?
The feeling she was being avoided increased during her lunch break when she'd stopped by Autopsy again only to find that according to Dr. Mallard Jimmy was still away taking care of some tasks for him.
A little insecure voice in the back of her brain told her that perhaps his lack of enthusiasm today and his obvious avoidance of her was a sign that he was possibly losing interest in her…perhaps the honeymoon phase of their relationship was over?
She began to search her brain for any signs he may have given that he was unhappy with their relationship.
She couldn’t think of any sign that he was unhappy or unsatisfied. They’d moved through their lives as usual. They shared lunches at work. They made dinner together. They made love multiple times a week. They spent their weekends doing fun things together. They even went to the gym together.
There had been zero indication that he was unhappy with their relationship.
If he was so happy though then why was he clearly avoiding doing anything for her for Valentine’s day other than a generic bouquet of roses? Why was he seemingly avoiding her today?
The sense that he was avoiding her only grew as the day had gone on. He’d not even come to the lab to deliver blood, urine, or tissue samples. Instead Abby had been called down to Autopsy by Dr. Mallard to retrieve any items for testing.
Y/N had tried not to let her heart sink and to ignore the look of confusion that washed over Abby’s face at the unusual request from Dr. Mallard.
Y/N tried not to allow her heart to sink any further every time she heard the tell-tale sound of the automatic doors opening in the lab and looked up to see it was not her absentee boyfriend.
Something wasn’t right, and she couldn’t quite get to the bottom of it. 
This was totally out of character for Jimmy. His sudden change in character made Y/N feel uneasy.
As the day had progressed she’d gone from feeling anxious, to feeling disappointed, to feeling despair, to feeling frankly kind of pissed off.
Her emotions felt like a big jumbled mess. It was like they were wires all tangled up and twisted in her head.
By the time the end of the day had come Y/N was left once again trapped in a feeling of despair and disappointment.
Given Jimmy’s absence and odd behavior today Y/N had almost expected him not to show up at the lab when it was time to go home for the day.
She knew it was a silly thought, after all they drove in together to work this morning just as always. Still though, with how strange and out of character he’d been today she was almost sure he’d continue to avoid her.
She found herself having little desire to take her vase of roses home with her, but she decided against being petty and leaving them to die alone in the lab.
She kept her lips sealed ignoring Jimmy’s greeting and his goodbyes to Abby.
She’d not found herself leaning into him as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
If Jimmy had taken notice of her sullen behavior he’d not said it busily chatting to her about his busy day.
She found the noise became white noise.
She chewed at the inside of her cheek resisting the urge to snap at him exactly why she was in such a mood.
It wasn’t that she expected to be showered with gifts…she wasn’t that materialistic. Yes, she was aware he’d gone over the top the past two years with the celebrations. She didn’t need anything fancy.
Really she just wanted some acknowledgement of what day it was. 
She would have been perfectly happy with the flowers if the card that had come along with the flowers had at least some acknowledgement that it was Valentine’s Day. She would have been delighted with any sign of affection and any real acknowledgement that today wasn’t just another day of the week.
She was so disappointed with how the day had gone. It felt like her boyfriend had essentially avoided her on the most romantic day of the year.
She found she had two conflicting voices in her head. One voice told her to quit being so ungrateful and be happy her boyfriend had at least sent her roses. The other voice told her that the roses didn’t mean as much if it honestly felt like he avoided her all day long and didn’t actually acknowledge why today was special.
She wordlessly let Jimmy open her passenger’s door for her just as he always did. It was something she’d always found charming about him. He always insisted on opening doors for her.
She didn’t acknowledge him until they both sat in his car and he spoke seemingly clueless about what was clearly upsetting her. “Are you okay? You seem quiet.”
She bit the inside of her cheek wanting to snap at him. She was tempted to ask him if he really was acknowledging her being upset for the first time all day. He'd know she was upset far sooner had he not avoided her all day. She wanted to remark that he should know exactly what was going on.
She took a deep breath trying to at least approach the conversation with care. “What’s today?”
Jimmy furrowed his brow quick to reply. “February 14th.”
Y/N cringed hating to admit she’d almost been hopeful he’d perhaps forgotten just what today was. She could forgive him if he’d simply forgotten that today is Valentine’s Day.
Jimmy spoke again the words slipping from his lips before he could stop himself. “I sent roses.”
Y/N’s mood quickly shifted from the anger she felt bubbling up in her to a feeling of guilt mixed with utter sorrow. She felt the words escape her lips. “You’ve been avoiding me all day. I know you were running an errand for Ducky, but you haven’t stopped by the lab even once today. You at least could have come by real quick on your way to Dr. Mallard’s errand and acknowledged what today is.”
She spoke again sniffling, unable to stop the tears. She frantically wiped her eyes fast to speak ashamed that she was even crying. That mean voice in the back of her head told her she was being a brat. “I just…you always make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day. It feels like  you forgot. I know you gave me roses, but it just wasn’t the same. I feel so stupid for being so upset. I feel like I’m being so high maintenance. I mean, you bought me roses which is more than some guys I’ve dated have done for me on Valentine’s Day. I just felt like something was up today and you seemed so out of character today. I got in my head and started worrying that maybe you are unhappy with our relationship. I…I worried that maybe the honeymoon is over. I mean, why else would you be so off today.”
Jimmy cringed, his stomach dropping. Today hadn’t gone how he’d planned. He’d made a huge mess. He’d got so caught up that he’d made his girlfriend feel like he didn’t value her and didn’t enjoy their relationship.
He took a deep breath reaching out and taking her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “You aren’t stupid and you’re far from high maintenance. I may have done a lot of things to show you I adore you but you do the same amount for me. I promise you I’m not unhappy with the relationship. I swear I wasn’t avoiding you today”.
He paused, taking another deep breath before speaking. “Do you trust me?”
She furrowed her brow, unable to verbally express herself; she still so worked up from being so upset. She only managed to nod her head frantically
Jimmy gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. He started the car mentally beating himself for not going about this a different way. He’d made a huge mess and he had to hope she’d understand things soon enough.
—--------------
The drive hadn’t taken long and thankfully Y/N had felt her tears dry. The feeling of shame hadn’t dissipated though.
That mean little voice in the back of her head still insisted that she was behaving like an entitled brat.
She felt her stomach churn as they arrived at the last place she’d expected. She stared up at Dr. Mallard’s house feeling totally lost as to why they were here?
She remained confused as Jimmy hopped out of the car moving frantically to make it over to her side of the car.
She unfastened her seatbelt allowing Jimmy to take her hand. She followed along behind him, feeling a little ridiculous as she realized she was still holding the vase of roses. It felt too awkward to turn back to place the roses in the car now.
She frowned as they rounded the corner not heading for Dr. Mallard’s front door but instead heading to the gate leading to his fenced in backyard.
She stood aside as Jimmy released her hand digging through his coat pockets a little triumphant noise leaving him as he finally located a key.
He unlocked the gate taking her hand in his once again leading her into the backyard.
She could distinctly hear Dr. Mallard’s mother’s corgis barking somewhere within the house. She furrowed her brow hoping that Dr. Mallard’s mother wasn’t awake or around. The woman had memory issues and would most likely freak out if she saw two “strangers” in the backyard.
Y/N widened her eyes stunned as they entered the backyard she was not expecting to walk into this.
Dr. Mallard had built a patio the year before he wanting to have a place to sit and watch his mother as she gardened, a hobby she refused to give up despite her poor joints making it difficult. 
The patio was nicely built. Dr. Mallard had invested money to have it close to the back door and had invested the money in placing wooden arches near the patio giving it a cozy feel without totally obscuring the backyard from view. The rose bushes that had been planted around the patio gave it a pleasant scent. The backyard was nicely shaded with plenty of oak and maple trees. 
She’d always envied Dr. Mallard’s backyard given Jimmy’s and her lack of yard space given the apartment they were renting. 
She could remember Dr. Mallard was proud enough of the patio to invite Jimmy and her over for dinner to see it.
The patio looked far different than it had when she’d seen it last. 
Delicate looking christmas lights had been hung from the wooden archways giving the area a pleasant glow.
Paper lanterns had been hung, all in soft pinks and reds. A cozy little patio table had been decorated with a red tablecloth being placed over it to make it a little more fancy than she’d expected. On the patio table little battery powered LED candles had given the space a romantic glow. Farthing the romantic aesthetic, a bottle of wine had been placed on the table as well as nice looking dishware.
She stared up at Jimmy speechless as he spoke. “I wanted to surprise you. I was trying to be secretive. I couldn’t think of a better excuse than me running errands for Dr. Mallard…Dr. Mallard was in on my plan. His mother and he are due to drive out and visit a family friend tonight. I wanted to use his backyard despite the cold. I wanted to recreate our first date…the chinese food place we ate…I arranged for there to be a delivery tonight.  Dr. Mallard was kind enough to offer me full use of his dining room so we could at least eat inside…I wanted to start the evening out here first. I thought we could start with some wine and then go in and eat before I gave you the other surprise I was planning.  I wanted to draw this out, but now I’m realizing my lack of foresight to see you most likely would misinterpret how I was behaving today. I was trying to surprise you and made you think I didn’t want to make today special. I know you haven’t always had boyfriends make a big deal out of things that are important to you. You told me you’ve always been sentimental and it hurts your feelings when people that are supposed to care about you don’t acknowledge things that mean a lot to you.”
She felt her tears well up at a loss for words, guilt filling her to the brim.
She didn’t have much time to focus on the guilt as Jimmy did something else she had not been anticipating.
She stared down at him, her eyes growing wide as he dropped down to one knee reaching into his coat pocket pulling out the last thing she’d expected to see.
He stared up at her, the red velvet box in his hand not opening it as he spoke. “I planned on waiting until the end of the night to do this…I think that it’s important that I skip ahead a little though”.
He paused, clearing his throat, his cheeks flushing. “I hope I can remember everything I want to say. I’ve practiced this in my head a dozen times for months now…It’s hard to verbalize how I feel. I’ve always been expressive about my emotions, but I think with you the emotions are just too overpowering that sometimes I’m left unable to speak. That’s new for me…I think we both know how much I can talk.”
She felt the laugh leave her despite the astonishment she was still grappling with.
He spoke again fast to say it. “That’s something I love about you, your laugh. It was the first thing I noticed about you. I walked into the lab and you were laughing with Abby. When I found out Abby had hired an assistant I wasn’t sure what to expect. I didn’t expect to walk into Abby’s lab and fall in love at first sight though. I can still remember how stunned I was when you asked me on a date. I was usually brave enough to make a move on a pretty girl, but I was afraid you’d be turned off by an attempt at an office romance…plus I was kind of accustomed to some people being turned off from my job. I never expected you to ask me to dinner and a movie. I remember I was so speechless and you took it the wrong way. You apologized and were about to walk away when I snapped out of it and had to apologize and reassure you that I did want to go on a date. I’ll forever be grateful for Chinese food and that bad comedy movie we went to because it was the start of something beautiful.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat trying to sort out his racing thoughts and say what he needed to. “I love you. It’s been three beautiful years and I want more. I want more beautiful  years. When I think about my perfect future, you’re the first thing I think about. So, I’m asking you to be a part of my future…our future. Will you marry me?”
Y/N only managed to frantically nod her head, the words becoming jumbled in her throat. She took a deep shaky breath, the tears falling from her eyes no longer evidence of sorrow. “Yes, I will. I’ll marry you.”
He released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was even holding as he opened the box, slipping the simple diamond ring on her finger delicately stopping her from dropping the bouquet of roses she was clutching.
He stood up, managing to press his lips to hers, his arms encircling her waist.
They kissed for a long while, her hand pressing to his cheek she awkwardly holding the vase of roses in her free hand.
They finally parted their kiss Y/N speaking, shaking her head. “I still feel so embarrassed…I just got caught up in my head.”
“You shouldn’t…trust me. You already know how bad my anxiety can be. I know what it’s like to have your brain feed you the worst possible scenarios.” Jimmy insisted.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek, unable to stop himself from asking. “Did I fix Valentine’s Day?”
She was unable to stop the response from leaving her. “I don’t know…”
She paused her words holding a teasing playful tone. “I thought you’d at least ask me to be your Valentine.”
Jimmy snorted at this playing along. “We’ve been together three years, I thought that was a given.”
She rolled her eyes, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “Do you want to get laid later or not?”
He felt his cheeks flush pressing a kiss to her temple. “I would hope so.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips, the teasing tone still in his voice. “Even if I don’t, you’re still my fiancee”.
She smiled at the words she finally placed the bouquet of roses on the patio table beside the bottle of wine.
She turned to embrace him, the words leaving her. “You know you’re going to have to really figure out how to top this, next Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m sure I can figure something out.” Jimmy insisted the comment putting a smile on both of their faces.
She allowed his lips to meet hers, not helping but to think that this was turning out to be the best Valentine’s Day ever. She had to wonder just how he would top this?
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dollsonmain · 8 months
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Looking at old fridges and they seem to all be “Insert Pastel Here” or.... red.
I don’t like red.
There’s red in the decor already, though. Red and yellow roses. Apples, lemons, and plums on the hand towel, the backsplash, and the dishes.
Red apples.... I still don’t like red.
I am not opposed to repainting the oven and microwave doors if I can get them off without breaking them, but that’s a big if. The hinges already have white stress marks on them.
I wonder if I can blast parts with the heat gun gently and soften them enough to remove without melting or burning anything.
I’m also not opposed to repainting the weirdly pink electronics, and am very much considering replacing the plastic cord on the phone with some string or something because it’s so stiff the phone can’t rest straight on the cradle. Even though I know a coiled cord would be appropriate to the time, I’m not interested. I suppose I could also make it cordless. I assume it isn’t so kids don’t lose or swallow the receiver.
I did just peel off and reposition the hand towel but afterward I discovered there’s sticker residue everywhere and I am going to have to remove the sticker again so Totally Awesome the residue off, but the fact that it DID peel off all in one piece is very encouraging. A lot of the stickers are crooked and it bothers me.
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teamsasha1 · 1 year
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#Repost @sashaalexander ・・・ I worked with #TomSizemore on a film in 2007 called “The Last Lullaby.” He scared the shit out of me in the first rehearsal by acting out scenes from Black Hawk Down. Screaming & fake shooting at me. He was very intense but also very fragile & he loved eating those horrible pink snowballs all day. He was a germaphobe, was obsessed with smelling good and had a suitcase of his favorite facial products (who knew) We had to shoot a swimming scene and we were waiting and waiting for Tom to come out of his trailer. One of the producers told me he didn’t want to come out because he didn’t feel comfortable he looked good. I thought, seriously, here I am a woman, in a bathing suit, in the middle of the night, freezing my buns off having had a baby not long ago. So I went to his trailer and knocked. He opened the door wearing a robe tightly pulled around him. I said “Tom, what’s going on?” He answered “I look fat.” Inside myself I thought well those snowballs aren’t the healthiest option but I said “I just had a baby, come on, they will fix it, it’s the movies!” I took his hand & we walked to set together. Tom had a lot going on in his life but when we were in a scene, he clicked in & he was nowhere else. A collaberative & supportive scene partner. He loved acting & had a great sense of humor. I hope you take a rest up there, Tom. Tell great stories about all your films, stay smelling good, and if you find my cordless phone can you please return it. Peace. #riptomsizemore https://www.instagram.com/p/CpYL1qzOPV-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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gustafsnightangel · 2 years
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Muse Part 6
Nothing prepared her for the frantic phone call from Henry at eleven thirty in the morning. She’d decided to stay in her apartment and work, her decisions and feelings regarding Gustaf lingering harshly today, a day where she just couldn’t face the world. Her feelings regarding the tall Swede phased in and out, some days were good, some weren’t. “He’s better off without you.” She muttered as she got dressed, ramming her feet into socks and sneakers. “And you, are definitely better off without him.” She snapped at herself. “I certainly do not need Michael 2.0.” Finished with her pep talk she locked her front door and headed out.
Walking to the store her heart sank as she thought about their walks together, his way with words, the tenderness in his touch as he held her hand. Did he really care or was what they shared in his brief time here just a game to pass the time? “That’s a sixty four million dollar question.” She mumbled bitterly. “He hasn’t even fucking called to apologize, not that I would accept it.” She’d thought about ringing him but decided it was on him to do so. Plastering a smile on her face she found Henry at the door to her studio practically hopping from one foot to the other.
“It came for you this morning.” He said excitedly.
“What came for me?” She was confused at his words.
“A large art crate.” His smile beaming.
“Art crate? But I didn’t order anything.” Her brow furrowed as she took in the sight of a large wooden crate sitting in the middle of her studio.
“Well it has your name on the bill of lading Helena.” He handed her the cordless drill, making it whir, a grin plastered across his face. “Either you do it or I will. I wanna see what’s in there.” There was a sparkle in his eyes she could only smile at, he was like a kid at Christmas.
”You have no idea who this is from do you?” She was slightly suspicious.
“Not a clue.” He huffed. “I could guess, but I don’t think you want me uttering his name right now.” The mutter under his breath earning him a pained look. She was sure Henry was in on it the way he was acting but she knew he wouldn’t lie to her. At least she had one person on this earth that wouldn’t. Henry had told her it wasn’t in Gustaf to do what Michael did to her, but she was having a hard time believing it with what had happened.
They spent considerable time opening the crate and pulled out two heavily wrapped pieces like they were some priceless artifact. Both had a label attached to them simply stating to open first and open second, a card stuck to the first. Opening it with shaking hands she read it out loud.
True colors are not only found in paintings. They are found in honest mistakes and human nature, love and foolishness, sorrow and forgiveness.
“That would be something Gustaf would say.” She snorted and her smile died. Did he send her these? She hadn’t heard from him these past months, nothing at all, which only made it obvious to her she’d meant nothing to him.
“We’ll if he did get something for you let’s open it and see how good his taste is.” Henry nudged.
“This has to be a joke.” Her scoff wasn’t heartfelt and if Gustaf had sent her something, to what end?
“Not all things are what they seem on the surface child.” Henry said gently.
“No they’re not.” She gasped as she began to unwrap the first painting, her gut clenching and plummeting at the same time seeing a familiar set of colors. “No, no, no, no, he didn’t...” She ripped off the wrapping to the second one and Twilight stared back, Dawn nestled right beside it. “He...”
“Did... He bought them.” Henry was as aghast as she was. “He found and bought them for you. He brought them home.” Henrys voice was barely a murmur.
Her hands shook violently as her fingers caressed the brush strokes in the paint, her brush strokes, tears streaking down her cheeks. Soft pinks and lavenders danced across the canvas, the pale yellows adding highlights of the setting sun. These two paintings were deeply engrained in her soul and it was painful to see them again, yet oddly comforting. Almost as if a missing piece of who she was had been returned to her.
“Just like he returned your drawings. Righting a wrong.” Henry said softly.
Not all of them she huffed inwardly. “I can’t take them.” She blurted out and brushed the tears away angrily. “They need to go back to him, I can’t take these.” The choked sob tore out of her before she could reign it in.
“Helena don’t be a fool.” Henry said gently.
“A fool? Yes I am that, for ever trusting him, for letting him in.” She spat, the sobs echoing in her voice. “He stole from me Henry, just like Michael did.”
“It’s not the same Helena and you know it. It’s unfair to judge him against that asshole.” Henrys voice stern.
“In your eyes maybe.” She grumbled. “They need to go back, I don’t want them.”
Gustaf was leaning against the doorframe as he watched her start to package them up, Henry begging her to reconsider. “I won’t accept them back Helena.” He said softly and both Henry and Helena spun to see him standing there, her eyes locking onto his with a wealth of pain and grief. She was still as beautiful as he remembered and it sucker punched him to know that this may be the last time he’d ever see her. This was as do or die as it got.
“Hear him out Helena, he’s a good man under it all.” Was all she heard from Henry before he walked from the room with a gentle squeeze to Gustaf’s shoulder. A simple gesture to say you did good, to tread carefully, and we are so not done talking.
“Gustaf.” She started and didn’t like the way her voice trembled and caught in her throat. “I can’t take these.” She breathed out as he shut the door and moved to her. Her tone was bordering on tears. “You shouldn’t ha... why? Why did you...” Her voice died as his fingers caressed her cheek, the line of her jaw before taking a hold of her chin, thumb brushing her bottom lip. There was no denying the spark between them at his touch. She saw the desire light in his eyes, a man knowing full well what he wanted, what he’d lost, and what he’d come to reclaim. All those feelings she had for him filled her, two souls that knew each other and belonged together even if their owners didn’t quite see it yet.
“I have no plan, no agenda, no ulterior motive Helena, other than the hope that these would finally bring you some measure of peace.” And that was the bare truth, he’d lay his soul open for her to really see him, no secrets, no lies, only the truth.
“I didn’t want them, I never wanted to see them again. To have a painful memory shoved in my face.” She spat angrily, which wasn’t entirely truthful, but anger was a far easier emotion to deal with than admitting she’d gone and fallen in love with him and was still in love with him. Conflicted didn’t come close to how she felt in this instant.
“Your tears and gentle caress of your own brushstrokes say otherwise.” He murmured softly, those bewitching eyes of slate grey staring into his soul. How he’d missed her. “They’re beautiful.” He said glancing over the top of her head to look at them side by side. “Even more so when they’re together, as they should be. Beautiful, much like their creator.” Brushing the tear from her cheek he smiled at her. “I’ve missed you.” He mumbled against her brow before placing a soft kiss there. Closing his eyes he tangled his fingers into her hair and just breathed her in. “So much, and I’m sorry.” Holding her to him he let it tumble out. “I should have asked you for the drawing and watercolors, paid you for them. I’m sorry.” He’d get on his knees if he had to, grovel for her forgiveness. “The only reason I kept them was I wanted a keepsake of you to cherish. Because I had no idea if we’d see each other again let alone start something truly magical. I’m sorry and I’m trying to make it right, to... I’m sorry.” He stopped as his voice cracked, his emotions finally betraying him.
“Where did you find it?” She asked, hesitating before she allowed herself to rest her head against his chest and breathe. Mainly so she could chew on his apology. She wasn’t so sure she was ready to accept it yet, as genuine as it appeared to be.
“Dawn had been purchased by a Paramount Executive, Twilight is a longer story.” Her head came up and he got lost in her for a moment trying to decide how much to tell her. All of it, that’s little voice in his head said sternly, it’s the only way to clear the air and to have any chance of her forgiving your stupid ass. Deep down he knew this would hurt, but she needed the truth.
“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “They need to go back.” Pulling away she felt him linger before releasing her, did he feel it too, she wondered? The overwhelming need to be together? Turning she looked at them one last time before starting to wrap them for transport, a piece of her soul now gaping open, torn, ragged, and bleeding.
“From the moment I saw your signature on your drawings I knew I’d either met you or had seen your work before.” He started and her hands hesitated momentarily before continuing their task. “It wasn’t until I did a little research into Twilight at your suggestion that I remembered, and it was quite a shock.” Moving to stand behind her he covered her hands with his to stop her and turned her to face him, she needed to hear this as well as see the truth in his eyes. “Twilight had been hanging on my fathers living room wall for the better part of four years. He purchased it before Michael had been caught red handed, and when I told him what had gone down he handed it to me and told me to bring it back to you. That’s when I decided to buy Dawn along with it.” It broke him to see her bottom lip tremble, all that pain he knew was locked away ready to spill out. “They’re yours Helena, to do with as you see fit. If you want to sell them again my father is willing to purchase Twilight at double market value, if I don’t beat him to it by purchasing both.”
“You’d buy them? After already buying Dawn from...” She couldn’t even fathom what he was saying.
“Yes, in a heartbeat.”
“I...” She had no words. “Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing thing do and most importantly I love them, Helena. Like I love you.” His fingers toyed with the wave of soft latte at her cheek. “They remind me of home.”
“I don’t know what to say, what to feel.” She choked. “These two were never supposed to be sold and he stole them from me.” The emotion had overwhelmed her and he let her have a moment to rage, to cry, to let it all out if that’s what she needed.
“There’s more.” And he hoped this wouldn’t sink him at the horrified look on her face. “Before packaging Twilight to be shipped here I took it to a gallery to be appraised for insurance. They were so taken by it they wanted to see Dawn and more of your work.” He let that sink in before continuing. “In a nutshell, they want to show your work Helena, starting with Dawn and Twilight, not to be sold but to be the drawcard for an exhibition, your exhibition.” He let her have the silence.
“I can’t afford an exhibition Gustaf.” She said simply. As perfect opportunities go it was something she would have jumped at before Michael did the dirty, now, she wasn’t sure it was the right move.
“They’re not asking you to pay anything.” His tone soft.
“That’s not how it works and other than these two I have nothing worth selling or exhibiting for that matter.”
“Then take the time to make some.” He pleaded. “They’ll give you the time to paint and create.”
“It’s a great offer Gustaf but I have to decline, I’m no longer painting and have no desire to start again.” The sadness in her tone struck him hard.
“We could find something to spark your interest, a trip somewhere, books, photos, a muse, anything to help you paint ag...” He’d been serious and was confused by her scoffed chuckled.
“YOU, we’re my muse Gustaf.” She looked him dead in the eye when she said it so he could feel the anguish he’d put her through. “I only paint when I’m happy, when I feel as though I have something to offer the world. When I feel like the world needs color only I can provide. That died when you left.”
“I’m sorry.” His barely there whisper punching her in the gut.
“I know you are, but in all honesty Gustaf as we seem to be airing out our laundry, what you did hurt more than what Michael put me through.” She scrubbed a hand over her face and breathed out. “Not only that how am I supposed to exhibit something in Stockholm? The fine art community would know me and my shadow there too.” He could hear the distain in her tone.
“They know about Michael, and for what it’s worth they told me they didn’t believe what was printed in the tabloid gossip columns. A court of law found you not guilty, that was all that mattered to them.” His words had shocked her. “They did their research before they gave me an offer to bring to you.” He watched her a moment before continuing. “What’s keeping you here Helena? Why do you stay here and put yourself through the constant ridicule when trying to find work?”
“Because unlike you Gustaf, I don’t have the means to move and start again, I have nothing. I don’t expect you to understand.” It was difficult for someone with money at their disposal to understand that she barely had two pennies to rub together.
“You have me and you have those two paintings which could be the start of something incredible for you.” He took a chance and kissed her tenderly, half expecting a slap across the face. “Come home with me, start fresh, make something of yourself, for yourself, Helena.”
“But I don’t have you Gustaf, we’re not together. And where am I supposed to live, how am I to feed myself?” She asked knowing the answer and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.
“Helena, you do have me, all of me. And I can have you stay with me, or help you find an apartment. The gallery is paying you for your exhibition, you won’t need commissions to live off.”
“So they’re paying me to paint?” Now this was too good to be true, she thought.
“Yes.”
“I’ll need to see a contract before I step anywhere near an airport.” She said bluntly, still not quite believing this was happening or legitimate. “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”
“I have it at my motel.”
“Motel? Where are you staying?”
“A somewhat clean establishment a block from your apartment.”
“A block from...”
“Helena, I know you don’t believe this is real and I’ve given you no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. Come home with me and paint, come home with me and be the artist you want to be. Just give it a chance. Please.” Just give me a chance, he pleaded silently.
“I need time.” It was all too much to process while standing in his arms.
“Understandable.”
“If it’s as legitimate as you say it is and there is actually a contract, meet me outside my apartment tonight at six, I want to read it.” He heard the defiance in her tone, the unmistakable, prove it asshole.
There was one thing he noticed about her now and was proud, she was firmly in control. This may have been shredding her on the inside but she was in control. This was a new side of Helena he was seeing and he liked it. “I’ll see you at six then.” Her nod a dismissal and he’d give her the space to come to her own decision. “For what it’s worth Helena,” He started and looked into those eyes of smoke and rain. “The exhibition wasn’t my idea or some ploy to win you back. They asked me to bring their proposal to you when I said I was delivering the painting they were appraising into your hands.”
“I need time Gustaf, to be sure.” He didn’t want to leave but knew he had to. Knew deep down that for him to earn her trust again he’d have to work a thousand times harder. He’d already sewn the seed of doubt in her mind.
“I’ll leave you to it then.” His eyes searched hers before he lowered his head and kissed her, the tenderness rocking her to her core. There was love there, pure and beautiful, she could feel it. But she had to protect herself against any further lies and deceit. She would get the contract if there was one and call the gallery directly. Research this time around was crucial. She would take nothing at face value ever again. Dropping her hand from his chest she took a small step back, distance was safer right now. The one thing she couldn’t allow was Gustaf to cloud her judgement.
“Would I be allowed to take you to dinner?” His question had her looking at him. “Just dinner.” He clarified. “Unless you want something more.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” He turned from her and walked to the door, pausing on the threshold. “I love you Helena, a love so deep my soul aches without you.” With those parting words he closed the door behind him and braced himself for the scathing reprimand he was about to face from Henry.
********************
She could hear Henry’s calm voice giving Gustaf a good verbal dressing down and felt a touch sorry for him. Henry protected her like a daughter and she was grateful for the support. Chewing on all Gustaf had said she sat and stared at Dawn and Twilight. If the proposal was real could she uproot her life, travel half way across the globe and start again? Could her and Gustaf find peace together despite it all? “One clusterfuck at a time.” She breathed out as the door opened and glanced to see Henry entering. “Did he leave here in one piece?” She smirked.
“He got no more than he deserved and he took it like a man. Now, what’s this I hear of an offer to exhibit?”
“Nothing gets past you.”
“Nope. Spill it.” So she did, her hopes, her fears, everything. “Smart girl to ask for the contract, I’ll take a look too if you need a separate set of eyes. We can send it to my lawyers just to be sure.” He held up a hand. “That’s the smarter thing to do and I’m happy to help. Take your time thinking on it, but don’t let a once in a lifetime opportunity pass you by.”
“Thanks.”
“What about Gustaf?” He asked gently.
“What about him?” She still wasn’t sure.
“He loves you Helena.” Henry’s tone softened and she looked at him. “And it’s clear to me that you still love him.”
“I do, but...” He nodded at her sigh.
“Give it time. My two cents and then I’ll let it be. His intentions weren’t aligned with what Michael did to you. I believe that. A man doesn’t do this.” He gestured to the paintings. “If he doesn’t love you. A man doesn’t travel half way around the globe to stay in a shitty motel to be close to you if he doesn’t love you. Whether it’s now or years from now, find it in your heart to forgive him Helena, he deserves that at the very least. Don’t let a good man go over one indiscretion. You know he pieced those works back together with scotch tape.” He saw the shock on her face and smiled. “He keeps the one of Floki folded up in his bag.”
“He told you this?”
“He did, after I asked him what he did with the pieces. He’s in love with you Helena and he’s genuinely torn to shreds over how much he hurt you. He’s not a man that deliberately hurts people. He made a mistake and he’s beating himself bloody on the inside about it.”
“I’ll think about that too.” She said, her mind swirling with the new information. “I’m going to head out, I still need to finish the last lot of commissions I have at home.”
“Leave them here.” Henry nodded his head toward the paintings. “Gustaf said he has them insured and they’ll be safe here inside your studio.”
“Thanks Henry.”
“Anytime my girl.” Henry hugged her, not a common occurrence but he felt she needed it. “You’re the daughter I never had Helena, I’ll always be here for you. Even when you’re jet setting off to Sweden with your man and your career. I’m happy for you if that’s the path you choose.”
********************
He’d spent the better part of an hour pacing the floor of his motel room, all twelve feet of it, like a caged animal. Of course twelve feet was an exaggeration but to someone as tall as him it felt like it. She’d listened at least. She’d let him touch her, kiss her, it didn’t mean she’d forgiven him and he would fall to his knees and beg for it if that’s what she needed.
He was outside her apartment at 5:45 pm and waited. Tapping his phone against his palm he contemplated texting her but didn’t. “Her decision how this goes.” He breathed.
On the dot of six her door opened and she took his breath away. Somehow she seemed to get more beautiful with every passing moment.
“Do you have the contract?” She asked, and for a split second he thought she might grab it and disappear upstairs.
“I do, as promised.” Fishing it out of his messenger bag he handed her the sealed envelope.
“Thai food?” She asked and he let out a slow measured breath thankful she hadn’t slapped him across the face for good measure.
“You’re in control Helena.”
“I know, but I’d like to have dinner with you, unless...” She slipped the contract out of the envelope and thumbed through it. It looked legitimate but she’d have lawyers look at it first.
“I’d love to.” He blurted out, his emotions skating on a knife’s edge.
“Gustaf I don’t hate you.” She said softly, looking into those eyes of Viking blue. “I was just really angry at you and it shoved a lot of bad memories in my face.”
“You had every reason to be.” His tone bordered on tears and he choked them down.
“I’m not now though.” She smiled and when he smiled back he felt the tension ease.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
Holding his hand out for hers she took it somewhat hesitantly.
“I won’t bite you unless you ask me nicely.” He murmured and the soft chuckle from her lightened his heart. “Is it true you haven’t painted since I left?” He asked carefully after they’d walked a little while.
“It’s true.” Lifting her fingers to his lips he kissed her knuckles at her soft reply. “You gave me so much more than a few days between the sheets.”
“I’m sorry Helena.” And she heard every ounce of that sorrow in his tone.
“I know.”
“How do I help you paint again?” His tone a deep whisper as his emotions strangled him.
“You’ve already started.” She said and chuckled at his look of absolute confusion. “You apologized and you’re here, trying to make it right. It’s more than what anyone else has done.” The sadness in those usually bright eyes cracked something inside her, this whole ordeal had hurt them both. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“The last words you spoke to me that day, did you mean them?” Her tone barely a whisper, she didn’t know if she really wanted an answer and her fingers twitched nervously against his chest.
The question was a heavy one and he knew it. “Yes.” His answer however was without hesitation. “Since the first time I lost myself in your eyes. Like I’m lost in them now.” His fingers caressed along her jaw. “Smoke and rain.” He murmured absently.
“Smoke and what?” He’d mesmerized her, that tone and wild Nordic blue eyes captivating.
“You’re eyes are the color of smoke and rain.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip, eyes roaming her face. “I love you Helena.”
It wasn’t just his tone that filled her with butterflies, those eyes were the windows to his soul. She saw the love there, felt it as his arms wrapped around her slender frame and hold her to him. Home, it was like coming home and she couldn’t deny she loved him too. His kiss was devastating, the slow burn that made her weak at the knees.
“I’ve missed you.” He said against her lips as he let her up for air, eyes meeting his.
“I’ve missed you too.”
“Do you still want to go eat?” He smirked, her fingers fisting in his shirt as she tried to gain control of herself.
“Yes, I’m hungry.”
“Then let me buy you dinner sweet girl.” He crushed her into a hug, her scent stabilizing him. He’d been so afraid she’d want nothing to do with him. Holding out his hand she took it and they walked to the restaurant.
Seated in a quiet corner they ate and talked, skirting the difficult questions, the difficult decisions. He wouldn’t push, as much as he wanted to beg her to take the offer. She’d asked for time to think and he would respect it. She was right, it was a huge decision, the move, her career, her past, and their relationship.
“So, can... can we talk about this?” She pointed at the contract. “Well, more about the move and where I’ll stay and...”
“It can wait Helena, I can wait there’s no rush. This is your decision, and a big one. Take all the time you need.” His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist calming him more than her.
“You’re right. I’m just nervous.”
“It’s understandable. Take a few days, weeks, however long to think on it, take that to the lawyers.” He pointed to the contract. “Then decide on what you want to do.” Kissing her fingers he smiled at her. “I’m excited for you.”
“I’m excited, just... terrified.” Her nervous chuckle turned into a stifled yawn.
“You need sleep.”
“Yeah, but I kind of don’t want tonight to end.” Those words hit him hard, maybe they would be ok.
“Me either, but you need sleep and so do I.” He signaled for the check and paid before taking her hand in his and walking her home.
“How long are you staying in the US?” She asked softly, trying to keep the hope out of her voice to not sound desperate to have him with her.
“For a while.” For as long as it takes for you to decide to come home with me, he said silently.
“I... I don’t want to keep you from work or anything.” And she didn’t, she wouldn’t be that person, to hold this situation over his head just to see him suffer.
“You’re not Helena, I’m between jobs and this is more important.” He stopped them outside her building. “You, are more important.” The tremble of her bottom lip had his thumb instinctively brush it tenderly. “I love you sweet girl. I promised to give you time, to think about it all. Career, moving house, us. I’ll wait.” Feeling the emotion pull at her he tugged her into his arms, curled against him where she belonged. “Go get some sleep and I’ll see you sometime tomorrow if you have time.”
“Ok. But... would you stay?” She asked chewing on her bottom lip. It had been a wild ride for her today and her emotions had bubbled to the surface. “Please.”
“You want me to stay?”
He almost stopped breathing as she nodded against his chest before looking up at him.
“I miss having you next to me.” She saw the surprise light in his eyes. Truth was she’d never sleep without him knowing he was a block away in another bed.
“So have I.” Tender fingers toyed with the wisp of hair at her cheek. “So much.” His words caught in his throat as emotion swamped him. “I’m so sorry Helena.”
“I’m sorry too, for not giving you the time to explain. I kinda lost my shit and you caught the brunt of it.”
“Not surprising with what you’d already been through.”
“I’m ready for all that to be done. Will you stay?” She asked again, hoping he would.
“For you I’ll stay.” Her smile was beautiful, they would get through this and be ok.
Hand in hand they climbed the stairs to her tiny apartment. It felt surreal for him walking through her door as he’d never imagined doing so again. As she stowed her bag he saw the absence of color and canvas, the smell of turpentine, and couldn’t help feeling a deep sense of loss, that bright spark of passion and creativity snuffed out. He’d done that, taken that spark from her.
“You can come in you know.” She smiled gently, and she could see the remorse written all over his face.
“I know I just...” He scrubbed a hand over his face, where did he start. “I never expected you to forgive me or quite so quickly.”
“I’m not one to hold grudges or drag something out when you’ve apologized and it’s genuine.” Standing before him she rested a hand against his scruff and felt her gut flip when he nuzzled it. Stretching up on her toes she kissed him, a gentle peck to say that she understood and she cared for him. “I know it’s going to take some time to move past this but I really don’t want to dwell on it tonight. We both need sleep, and I don’t know about you but I’m emotionally wrung out.” She said softly.
“You’re right. I think we’ll both feel and think better in the morning.”
An hour or two later he lay with her snuggled against him, where she belonged. He felt complete, like the other half to his soul had been found, a part of him set free. They both gave into sleep eventually, soft kisses and tenderness soothing them both.
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Portable Electric Juicer 📦Enviamos pra todo Brasil! 🚚Frete gratis! 🎁Faça seu pedido! 💳Dividimos em até 12x 📦We ship it worldwide 🌍! 🚚Free shipping available! 🎁Check out our website! 💳Pay with your credit card up to 12x Blade Material: Stainless Steel Fruit & Vegetable Tools Type: Squeezers & Reamers Origin: Mainland China Type: Fruit & Vegetable Tools Product name: Portable Automatic Juicer Cup Product color: sapphire blue/girl pink (2 colors optional) Capacity: 400ML No-load speed: about 21000±15%RPM Charging time: about 3-4 hours Fully charged about squeeze: 5-10 times pecifications: 1.Made by food-grade and non-toxic materials. Mini, Convenient,This is a lightweight, one piece, cordless blender that serves as a drink container. 2.It has unique safety design. The eco-friendly material and the unique safety design give you a duplicate protection and make you feel safe while enjoying delicious juice. 3.Use: Orange Juice, Pomegranate juice, Apple juice, Grape juice, Watermelon juice etc. 4.Build In Rechargeable Battery, 1200mAh battery, blend up to 10 times on a full charge. 5.USB Charging Ways Variously: It can be charged by mobile phone, other digital devices and power bank. #eletric #blender #portable https://www.instagram.com/p/CqEiywiMak_/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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featured-products · 1 year
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6 Blades Portable Juicer Small Electric Juicer Fruit Automatic Smoothie Blender Kitchen Tool Food Processor
to order the product
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Product color: sapphire blue/girl pink (2 colors optional)
Capacity: 400ML
No-load speed: about 21000±15%RPM
Charging time: about 3-4 hours
Fully charged about squeeze: 5-10 times
pecifications:
1.Made by food-grade and non-toxic materials. Mini, Convenient,This is a lightweight, one piece, cordless blender that serves as a drink container.
2.It has unique safety design. The eco-friendly material and the unique safety design give you a duplicate protection and make you feel safe while enjoying delicious juice.
3.Use: Orange Juice, Pomegranate juice, Apple juice, Grape juice, Watermelon juice etc.
4.Build In Rechargeable Battery, 1200mAh battery, blend up to 10 times on a full charge.
5.USB Charging Ways Variously: It can be charged by mobile phone, other digital devices and power bank.
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Please allow 1-2cm measuring deviation due to manual measurement.
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cikoqotag · 1 year
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Kidisecrets 2 bedienungsanleitung panasonic
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mckee84didriksen · 2 years
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Lg Gt540 Is Powered By Android
Android is quickly becoming an alternative for the Blackberry for corporate end users. The devices are well-suited for communication and organization with most great purposes. Grand Theft Auto v Reloaded CK keys Free of the early Android phones have been discrete and lacking in any embarrassing physical characteristics as being pink case or stars and moons. (Although, the T-Mobile myTouch is including both folks as an option). It will be the third android phone introduced by the consultant. It is the first phone of it is a series that has 3.5 mm audio jack; HTC Sense interface and multi touch capability. The HTC Hero is also the first android device which supports Adobe Flash. The Android has a totally free app for just about anything, including real-time translation with voice recognition. Granted, most men and women will never use this form of an application, free or not, but it is still there if anyone needed a cordless it. Another great free Android weather app that offers local weather updates too as will be included anything else you'd desire to know about general temperature. The updates are accurate as well as the add-ons (including maps and videos) are amazing. This is one of the primary few free Android apps that are up there in a league in their own. Again, another free Android app that does exactly what its name says. This app even allows anyone to view predictions for previous days (so you can check your own home horoscope was accurate or not). In case you are into this type of thing, which I'm not, this is likely to be your best choice. All I can say is that this app functions well and looks great. As long Grand Theft Auto v Reloaded Setup goes- you be the judge! The HTC Evo 4G doesn't only have a fast processor; it's actually fast by itself. Originally shipping with Android 2.1, which was fast already, the phone is now running Android 2.2, another first for Android phones, significantly increasing the phones overall performance, and adding a slew of useful qualities. The HTC Evo 4G's Android a couple.2 browser is now most effective mobile browser on the market, even beating Apple's iPhone Safari browser in several speed see. What main system will ultimately come from top? Android or iOS? If Android can manage to tackle Apple and the touch screen tablet market, will it stop right now there? Knowing Google, probably truly. Since Grand Theft Auto v Reloaded Repack , Google has been effectively taking hold of internet. Android moving on phones which can be now being used for drugs. Where will we find Android next? It is predicted to be released in summer but then again, summer could possess a different meaning here. Run out be excited over this new android telephone call? Well, it may be much compared to the existing one. However, since surely has no idea what other addition features it has, it is often difficult to calculate how always be perform in the market.
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futuristicbog · 2 years
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commission by ieva balode (2019)
we saw the video art project commission by ieva balode in class and the atmosphere it had was exactly what i was envisioning for this blog: visually, it works perfectly with my idea of a post-apocalyptic world with authoritarian soviet buildings. i'll give a formal analysis of it, explain its message and then i'll go into how it relates to the theme of my blog and what i thought of it.
the video begins with a wide shot of the mother georgia monument made by sculptor elgudzha amashukeli. the crowned feminine statue holds a sword in one hand and a cup in the other. it has a very distinctive soviet realist style. after showing the statue, the camera films a woman standing in the same pose as the statue. she’s wearing a metallic silver outfit, a crown and a red veil. the view flips back and forth between the two before the woman drinks from the cup and drops it. she raises her sword in victory before the shot changes to show parts of the famous monument chronicles of georgia by zurab tsereteli (1985-). this monument is still being built and, as the title implies, it narrates the history of georgia. on the upper section of its 16 columns are notable figures in georgian history and on their lower half are scenes relating to christian history. (source 1)
the camera stops on the image of a woman who i presume to be tamar the great, who ruled in the late 12th and early 13th century. her reign was during the height of the georgian golden age, when georgia was the most powerful of the southern caucasus and had a heightened production of sumptuous artworks and books. (source 2) i'm almost certain that she is the one depicted by the monument since she's one of the most iconic women of georgian history and there’s also an image of her at the end of the video. the choice of showing only her depiction in full view is significant in understanding the underlying message of the artwork.
at the bottom of the column, we see the same woman as before, but she’s wearing a blue robe this time. she's standing in front of the aforementioned monument and she’s holding a book in her left arm as she shows her palm in a sign of etheral holiness. the location changes once again to show a soviet brutalist building that i sadly could not identify. it has strange angular shape with a metal sphere underneath it. the woman is now accompanied by another one, who's wearing a pink outfit with a motorcycle helmet. she is handed the book and we see her as she arrives in front of a tall yellow tinted building on her bike. she uses a phone attached to a wall in a strange dark room to contact another woman. the recipient of the call is at a gigantic desk and answers a landline phone. the room in which she is sat is characteristic of soviet conference rooms from the 1970s, such as the stasi building in east berlin (examples here). we see another wide shot of a brutalist building: inside are two women in a soviet control room (more examples) and one answers a mobile phone that seems to come straight from the 80s. in a major port, another woman answers a cordless phone. they all meet in the tall, yellow building.
there, they stand in front of the woman in a pink outfit, who's holding the book that was handed to her by the woman wearing a metallic silver outfit. i first believed the book to have a title in slavonic, but in the description of the video, it's mentioned that the language on the cover of the book is actually georgian. in fact, the book is passed of as "the knight in the panther's skin" written by shota rustaveli. it was written during the reign of queen tamar and dedicated to her.
the women open the book: inside is hidden another text named world history, second edition. the women are aghast. we can see inside a painting of queen tamar, an image of cleopatra's bust, the drawing of what i assume to be a greek woman (sappho? helen of troy?), the virgin mary, bodhisattva (or maybe a tibetan equivalent of her if i'm relying on her orange clothing and the colorful halo around her head), elizabeth I and joan of arc.
commission tells a compelling story that mixes both tradition and futurism. the figure who gives the book that will reveal historical secrets seems half-goddess, half-alien. her metallic suit evokes her otherworldly nature while her accessories and the gestures she makes remind me of a christian saint. the women to whom she gives the book all have rather contemporary occupations as a courier, an office woman, an engineer and the manager of a port. the atmosphere is also rather stern. the only actors in this video are the massive soviet buildings and the women. another interesting aspect of the video is the complete loneliness of the main characters: no one can be seen walking around, as if an apocalypse had eradicated most of the human population, save for these women. through this weird, futuristic world, we are told as viewers that women have long led history but have been underestimated or not studied at all. one could hypothesize that the first edition of the book given to the women consisted of all men and that this second edition is the one that shows the importance that women took in forming the world as we know it today. perhaps it tries to convey that male leaders are the reason why this apocalypse happened and more women should lead. however, the emptiness of the scene is perhaps due to the obvious inspiration of soviet films, which had very few extras. this could be supported by the fact that the whole short movie was filmed with an old kodak camera.
i personally absolutely loved the video, especially because of its atmosphere: im very interested in brutalist architecture and so this was beautiful to watch. i also love soviet movies and artists. i do like how the buildings and the type of filming contraption contributed to the futuristic theme of the video while still maintaining a sort of ambiguous nature about the time it’s supposed to depict. the time period that is shown there definitely feels to me like an imagined time, related in a way to soviet sci-fi movies. the architecture and the industrial jobs the women work hint to this, as well as the element of outer-space, characterized by the metallic clothed woman. weirdly enough, it reminded me of a strange 80′s kids’ soviet film i came across on twitter found here. the visuals beautifully reminded me of eastern cold war visuals. themes of destruction are subtly alluded to here with the fact that no one else is present in the shots than the three chosen women and the half-goddess, half-alien book-giver. additionally, as someone who considers herself to be more of a historian than an art historian, i liked how this video questioned history itself, both by the book showing only women, but also by the ambiguity of time posed by it.
source 1: ATLAS OBSCURA, " 'Chronicles of Georgia': Tbilisi Georgia", Atlas Obscura, 2021. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/chronicle-of-georgia [accessed April 16th 2022]
source 2: HUNEYCUTT, Lois. "Tamar of Georgia (1184-1213) and the Language of Female Power" in WOODACRE, Elena A Companion to Global Queenship, Amsterdam, Amsterdam University Press, 2018, pp. 27-38.
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alinabreet · 3 years
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Pink Cordless phones help people to communicate appropriately without taking the hassle of annoying wires. The Caller ID feature of these phones is quite useful for displaying information regarding the identity of the caller. You can expect crystal clear sound and take advantage of advanced features by making use of these telephones. Moreover, they are also equipped with a call blocking feature for the sake of the user’s safety. This feature permits users to block unknown contact numbers to prevent themselves from fraudulent calls. Additionally, their compact design is also a reason for buyer’s attraction. They are expandable up to multiple handsets for ensuring perfect communication solutions.
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koshka-matryoshka · 3 years
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