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#before cars played CD's
quill-of-thoth · 2 years
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Show of hands: who here has read “The Worst Best Christmas Pageant Ever” by Barbara Robinson.  And who, as a consequence, leans over to a family member during the children’s choir’s christmas carol performance to comment that they sound like a closet full of mice, and see if they manage to keep a straight face?
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boomerang109 · 20 days
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yeah maybe you’re a great music fan but actually i think you should be jealous of the joy and whimsy that my audio processing issues bring into my life
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robinsnest2111 · 2 months
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the mini heart attack when first listening to Broken On The Inside and the stuttery skipping CD sound came in around the end of the song
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dontmeanyoudontmissit · 8 months
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1989 is the first Taylor album that fully hit me in my soul and I am about to be so feral about it.
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asmallcafethatslove · 10 months
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hiiii does anyone collect vinyls or cds here? what do you prefer and which one feels more worth it?
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storm-of-feathers · 2 years
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Not to be actual human cringe trash but. Hamilton wasn't that bad tbh.
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fozmeadows · 8 months
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the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?
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ravioliwings · 10 months
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momentarily sad some of thr artists i like only have digital downloads, and then realizing it gives me the opportunity to burn my own CDs and maybe make my own album covers :)
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gracieheartspedro · 4 months
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Your Needs, My Needs
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THE PRELUDE
a masterlist of how you can help gaza
pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)
description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.
word count: 3.7k words
warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao
author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!
“Sign here and she’s all yours.”
When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 
While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 
She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 
The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 
Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 
You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 
You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.
It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 
You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 
You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 
The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 
Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 
In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 
You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 
You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 
Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”
The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 
Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.
You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 
-
When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 
You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 
A hot cowboy saved your life. 
It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 
You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 
“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”
She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”
You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 
“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”
“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”
The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 
You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”
“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”
You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 
You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 
When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 
You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 
��So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”
You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 
You needed your furniture, after all. 
It will be okay, you tell yourself. 
“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”
“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”
You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”
You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 
The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 
Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 
It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.
You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 
He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 
He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 
“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”
You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.
You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 
“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”
The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 
“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”
You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.
“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.
You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 
He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”
“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 
You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 
“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”
You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”
“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”
You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”
“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”
You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”
“Well, what have you tried doin’?”
You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.
“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”
He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 
“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.
“What Texas or this bathroom?”
He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 
“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 
You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 
“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 
You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 
“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”
“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”
You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 
He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”
“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”
He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”
-
His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 
“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”
You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 
You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.
While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 
You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.
“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 
“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 
“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”
He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”
Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 
He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 
“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”
You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 
You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 
“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”
“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”
You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 
“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 
“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 
You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”
They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 
He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.
“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”
Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”
Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”
You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 
You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 
He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 
“Somethin’ wrong?”
You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.
“N-no, everything is okay.”
“Don’t look it.”
“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”
Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 
“O-oh okay.”
“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”
You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.
  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”
PART 1 COMING SOON!
taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon
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blueskrugs · 2 years
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I keep forgetting I’m not driving my own car this weekend and it’s becoming a problem
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hothammies · 2 months
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will byers, the resident sniper and medic - apoc au details under the cut!
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will's role in the party:
a scouter - stays back to watch over the area during runs w/his rifle and is a backup supply runner if need be. just prefers to scout with dustin and mike
medic - normally takes care of the group regarding injuries and medicine. is very gentle :)
the angel on mike's shoulder -> knows how to placate mike the best if mike's being unreasonable or too harsh
most knowledgable about the infection and how it works -> helps with understanding the patterns of infected people, what attracts infection, etc.
party mediator - rarely ever fights with anyone (mostly with mike haha) and is usually the person people most often go to for a vent or a rant
skills + hobbies:
best with a rifle + second best with guns! -> he practices a lot with lucas but refuses to kill animals
cook of the group along with el (taught her how to cook): rest of the party can make edible food but don't know how to make it taste good
great knowledge of plants and medicine -> jonathan and joyce taught him all they know about it (they are healers)
draws in a sketchbook that mike stole from another group for him: filled with mundane sketches from life and treats it like a daily journal
likes to collect cds and cassettes that he finds around to play in the car (him and max discuss music the most) - fave bands include system of a down, gorillaz, the clash and the cure :) he's an alt rock fan!
quirks / fun facts:
him and lucas have an ongoing competition that started with their aim and is now based on literally anything -> they've been keeping score since they were nine (lucas is currently up by ten and the points are in the thousands)
will shuffles different music in the car and observes who in the party likes what so he can make his own little mental playlists for them!
him and dustin talk a lot about how the infection works. they have some very intense debates about it, especially when it comes to if the infected still have human consciousness or not (will thinks they do, dustin thinks they don't)
--- other notes: canon will, in a short summary, is a very sweet, sensitive, empathetic and capable boy who consistently puts others needs before his own :') of course, i wanted apoc will to share those attributes, with a big emphasis on his empathy, strength, and kindness. first - i wanted him to be a medic to show how he cares about other people and how he helps the people he loves as well. it's shown a lot in the show how much he cares for people and living beings (see: his actions with dart, el, mike, feeling bad for jonathan's hand after he had just woken up, etc.) and him being a healer is very in tune with this behavior. will as a healer is very special to me :') and him learning this skill from his mom and his brother strengthens the theme of family also!
second - him being good with a hunting rifle was to showcase his quiet strength and capability (i'd also like to add that his dexterity on his dnd sheet is extremely high) -> he's a non-confrontational survivor. his strength shines from afar and is put on the backlight, but no one in the party thinks will is weak for his empathy. mike and lucas, in particular, are actually quite jealous of the fact that will is still able to see so much good in humanity and life while being so strong. of course, his connection to the upside down in st is mirrored in this au as well, where he has an innate understanding of how the infection works because of experience, observation and other story spoilers...
looking at the current poll results, it seems im going to be drawing lucas and max next :D see you for that!
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sillysowa · 10 months
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Could you do a lil one-shot of Hobie and fem reader on a road trip, reader driving until he takes the wheel since she took too many distracted stops at roadside shops. That’s until he takes his own stop this time but it involves him on her lap🤭 or not, nsfw or sfw- just a lil idea <3
Not gonna lie, I started writing this request and half way through I realized I read it wrong. Hobie on her lap caught me off guard and I didn’t quite understand how to do that in a car (or what your specific idea was) but I hope this is satisfactory—I went with a switch reader vibe!
I WANNA BE SEDATED!
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PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER
GENRE: SMUT! PWP
WORD COUNT: 1.2K
WARNINGS: USE OF Y/N, USE OF PET-NAMES, SEX IN A CAR, SLIGHTLY DOM READER AT POINTS, VAGINAL SEX
AUTHORS NOTE: NOT PROOFREAD SO THERE MAY BE SLIGHT MISTAKES!
SYNOPSIS: WHATS A ROAD TRIP WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND WITH NO SEX ON THE HIGHWAY?
“Oh my god, Hobie! This one looks cute!” You gush for about the sixth time in the past two hours, pulling off into another local cafe in a small town. The car swings to the side as you enter the tiny parking lot and Hobie’s lanky frame bangs around in his seat as he clings to the handle on his side,
“Shit! Holy fuck, love! Go easy.” He curses, laughing in complete disbelief at your trash driving. You pull into the small bakery parking lot and bother the shit out of Hobie the entire time you’re inside (he loves it.) He pays for it all and you leave with a couple cases of sweets and pile them into your baskets in the back of the car for safekeeping. You “dust” your hands off, reaching for the drivers side door when Hobie’s hand shoots out and snatches your wrist,
“I don’t think so, dollface. It’s my turn—get your sweet ass in the passenger seat.” Hobie quips, nodding towards the other side of the car. You huff and walk over,
“Your driving isn’t any better than mine!” You say, getting comfortable in your seat and not so discreetly catching glimpses at Hobie’s hands as he turns the car on and shifts it into reverse.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He laughs, his hand over you and firmly on the back of your seat as pulls out of the parking lot.
“Oh shut up.” You snap, sipping your drink and messing with his radio. When he’s noticed this, he quickly stops you,
“Ah-ah-ah! I’m driving, my songs.” He tsks, waving his finger at you all annoyingly and pointing to the cds he brought into your car. (He stole every single one.) You sift through all of them, announcing the titles until Hobie gives you the green light on one,
“Road to ruin, Ramones?”
“Yes! Play that one, love.” He smiles, eyes on the road as you put the CD in. Instantly, loud punk rock fills the car, the both of you getting hype and energetic. Hobie drummed his ring clad fingers over the wheel, thrashing his head around and yelling out lyrics, having the time of his life. He stole glances at you—the way your lips locked around the straw of your drink from the cafe, the way you sang along to his favorite songs, and how jaw droppingly gorgeous you look as his passenger princess. It made him feel a certain way, his mischievous side coming out as he pulls over the car in the middle of nowhere on the busy highway.
“Hobie?-“
“Get in the back baby.” Hobie mumbles, that special glint in his eyes as he looks at you, swallowing. You smile widely for a moment before you hurriedly unbuckle and clamor into the backseat with Hobie, a giggling mess. His tall stature struggles in the small car, stumbling around and falling onto the seats. You’re both breathless and laughing, the sunlight fading from view and the only lighting being the cars on the road and the inside lights on in the front seat. Hobie’s under you, kissing you passionately with his hips thrusting up against yours. You break the kiss to suck hickeys into his neck, your whole body shuddering at the sounds he makes,
“A-Ah! Fuck-Don’t stop.” He grunts, his hands finding their way to your hips. You pull back looking him in the eyes, waiting,
“Oh, Y/N don’t make me-“
“Beg.”
“Fuck.” Hobie sighs, looking up at your beautiful smiling eyes, the sadistic look in your them making his cock twitch,
“Please…please don’t stop.” Hobie grunts, his hand reaching up into your hair and tugging it, the moan that leaves your lips a firm reminder of how much you both want this. You grin at him, leaning down and kissing his neck, sucking hickeys right into that sensitive spot of his. Hobie’s hips grind into yours, and you grind back. He’s breathless in the warm air, the windows starting to fog up in the corners.
“Y/N…Y/N.” He moans, reaching up and holding your waist, his fingers dipping under your top as he looks up at you, asking for permission. You nod and he instantly pulls your shirt off of you, nearly cumming at the sight of your tits.
“Fuck…” He groans, sitting up slightly and immediately flicking his tongue over one your nipples, the needy look in his eyes and the sensation driving you insane. Hobie sucks and licks your nipples, biting every now and then, letting out growl-like noises. The bulge in his jeans is hard against your covered pussy, and you feel his need in the sweat on his skin, the agog look in his eyes and the labored breathing that plagues him as he tugs at your pants by the belt loops. Both of you waste no time in stripping completely naked, panting as his loud rock music thrums in your skulls,
“Y-Y/N please,”
“I’m ready, Hobie.” You groan, your pussy rubbing over his hard cock before he grabs your face in his two large hands and kisses you passionately. It’s a mess—you’re both groaning and moaning, so horny you think you could die. Hobie breaks the kiss. his gaze traveling down to where you sink your hips down and he slides all the way inside you. Hobie squeezes his eyes shut at the feeling—warm, wet, walls clenching his cock and threatening to milk him for all he’s got. Hobie feels his adrenaline race and his arms come around your back, pulling your flat against his chest as he fucks you as hard as he can,
“H-Hobie!” You moan, surprised as he aggressively rams into that sweet spot in you, the sound of sex barely heard over the sound of punk rock. The car shakes and your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation of his cock deep inside you, stretching you wide open and leaving you breathless,
“Take it, doll. Take all of it, I know you can—your pussy loves my dick, fuckin’ made for it.” He groans, a mumbling mess drunk on your pussy. He fucks you with a steady rhythm, the cars on the road flying past the both of you with their high beams illuminating the car. Hobie’s eyebrows are pinched, his face warm to the touch and you can what his heart beating rapidly. Your pussy clenches and pulsates, the feeling of being fucked like this leaving you delirious. Your head was fuzzy, and your walls were growing tighter as you neared your orgasm, Hobie dirty-talking you through it.
You feel warm cum spilling out of you as he just beats up your insides. You couldn’t tell how many times you came, all you knew was “Yes!” “More!” and “Hobie~!” Hobie loosened his grip on you just as he was about to cum, moving his head to kiss you while he spills inside you, both of you moaning into each others mouths. It was loud, it was messy, and it was insane. You felt the twitching of his entire length as his warm cum filled your insides, Hobie still pumping into you in your overstimulation. You both had to take a minute to regroup yourselves after that kind of sex, stumbling to sit up and get dressed again,
“Couldn’t help it, you looked so good sucking that straw eatlier.” Hobie confesses as he pulls his jeans on,
You laugh, disbelief al over your face, “That’s what this was about? You fucking pervert!” You laugh, playfully shoving his arm. Hobie smirks,
“I’ll be that if it means fucking you like this.” Hobie says in a deep tone as he grabs your face and kisses you roughly, getting a taste of you one last time before you have to get on the road again.
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dreamescapeswriting · 5 months
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Stray Kids Reaction || Your First Kiss [Mafia]
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Skz!Mafia x GN!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
Hope that this was alright for you my love! @bxcketbarnes
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CHAN:
It was the first date and it was safe to say that it had gone extremely well for you, at least you'd thought so at the time but as you got closer to your front door and Chan still hadn't kissed you you were beginning to have your doubts. Did he not feel the same sparks that you had felt? Maybe it was all one-sided and he didn't want you anymore. Worries were bubbling up faster as you reached your front door and you unlocked it.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" You questioned, not wanting this to be the last time you ever saw him. Chan's eyes met yours and he nodded with a small smile on his face, his palms sweating profusely as he anxiously watched you. He'd been debating kissing you all night long but he was worried that it would be too fast or maybe that it wasn't the most gentleman-like thing for him to do.
"I'll bring that CD I was talking about," He smiled and you stared at him, neither of you moving away from one another until you finally had enough and kissed him softly. Your hands rested gently on his chest as he stood completely stunned, not kissing you back as your heart sunk a little.
"I-I'm sorry, I thought- Never mind." Your hands jumbled to try and open your front door, trying to get away from Chan as quickly as you could but your efforts were stopped as he placed his hand on top of yours.
"I was shocked, please..." He whispered before turning you around in his arms and gently kissing you. Your lips moved in perfect sync with one another, your hands resting on his chest so you could feel just how hard his heart was racing. 
"I'll see you tomorrow, Yn." He smirked a little before you felt your whole body heating up and you headed inside to let out a small squeal of excitement. 
MINHO:
Six dates. You'd been on a total of six dates and Minho had yet to even make a move on you besides holding your hand. You were starting to think maybe he didn't like you the way that you'd thought and this was just him looking for a friend. Then the overthinking began to kick in and you worried that you had bad breath, leading you to invest in so much chewing gum and mints you could have owned half of the company by now. 
"Is there something wrong with me?" You yelled out as Minho reached his car and you were still standing at your front door watching him leave. Maybe it was rude to yell and a little embarrassing but you were starting to agonise that he was never going to kiss you at this rate.
"What?" He chuckled turning to look at you and frowning when he saw how upset you looked, Minho would move the heavens and the Earth to make sure you'd never be upset and knowing he was the cause of that frightened him.
"You haven't kissed me, do I have bad breath? Do you not like me that way? Because I thought we were dating." You realised how this must have sounded and you were starting to regret opening your mouth as Minho walked closer to you.
"I've been...a little nervous," He admitted, it wasn't easy for him to admit to being scared of something. He was a mafia prince for Christ's sake and he was scared of kissing the person he was dating? It wasn't like him at all. 
"You? I didn't think nervous was even in your vocabulary," You joked as he smirked, stepping into your personal space and looking down at you.
"Only ever since I met you," He whispered before you closed the distance between you and kissed him, your heart thumping rapidly as you kissed him gently. There was something intense about it even though it was a gentle kiss, something laying beneath the surface that made you want more.
"Come inside for a hot drink," You suggested, biting your bottom lip and playing with his tie as his cheeks flamed and he nodded at you.
CHANGBIN:
You'd been ranting to your friend about wanting to kiss Changbin for almost a week now, the two of you had been on almost seven dates and he'd not kissed you yet which was a little upsetting. But tonight, you were going to be the one to make the move. It was New Year's eve and you'd been invited to a huge party that he was throwing, a black tie event which was exciting and nerve wracking all at the same time. 
"Happy New Year everyone!" Changbin finished his speech into the microphone and made his way over to you as the one-minute countdown began on the huge screens in his office building. You nervously played with the bracelet he'd gotten you for Christmas and stared at him as he made his way toward you.
"Any goals for the new year, Mr Seo?" You teased as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, his eyes staring into your soul as he smiled to himself.
"To keep you in my life as long as possible Mx Yln." Your body heated up as you heard the countdown begin to drop to single digits, it was now or never. Your mind began to run through everything that could go wrong with you kissing him, what if he didn't want to kiss you yet? What if your breath reeked of the garlic balls you'd been eating?
"three...two...one-" Everyone's yells and your own racing thoughts were drowned out when you felt his lips on yours, the glass that you were holding slipped to the floor but neither of you pulled away at the sound of it shattering. You kissed him back, deeply falling into a deep make-out session as people around you stared in awe. It had been a while since Changbin had found anyone to share his life with and they were thankful he had you.
HYUNJIN:
"Not bad for a third date," Hyunjin winks as he looks at you, you'd been stunned the whole time you'd been with Hyunjin tonight. After your last date, he'd been working hard to get this one perfect for you, not that the others hadn't been perfect but this was something he wanted to be extra special. You'd mentioned in passing how much you'd been wanting to go to the botanical gardens at night time to see the stars under the skylight but there was never an option so he made it one.
The two of you had the whole place to yourselves - and two of Hyunjin's guards but they kept a respectful distance between you all.
"Not bad? Hyunjin this is beautiful," You whispered as you sat down on the blanket that was laid out for you, surrounded by pillows so that the two of you could look up at the sky and be comfortable.
"It really is," He whispered, only he was staring at you instead of the view making your body heat as he sat down beside you, smiling.
"You like this?" He had to admit he was a little worried it was a step down from all of the other extravagant dates but you seemed to enjoy this one a lot more than the others.
"I love this," You whispered before kissing him softly on the lips without thinking. The two of you froze for a second, neither of you moving to pull away nor to deepen the kiss that you were sharing until a beat passed and Hyunjin wrapped his arm gently around you and pulled you closer to him. The kiss deepened as he laid you on top of him and relaxed against the pillows with you, both of you laughing softly against one another's lips as you made out under the stars.
JISUNG:
All night long Jisung had been nervous and you could tell because he was bouncing his leg up and down the whole time you'd been watching the ballet not to mention the gum he was chewing at excessive amounts and beads of sweat were on his forehead.
"Do you have somewhere else you need to be?" You asked as you stepped into the lobby of the theatre, looking at him with a frown on your forehead. If he needed to be somewhere else he could have just been honest with you and said so in the first place.
"No...N-No, No I'm good." The way he stumbled over his words made you frown even more, was he bored of you now? Was he going to make this the last date?
"If you don't want to see me anymore you can just say that...I'd rather you didn't play on my feelings." Jisung stared at you in shock,
"What? Why would you think that?" The nerves slipped away within seconds as he stared at you. The last thing he would ever want is for you to feel as though you aren't wanted, he'd been so nervous about kissing you that he forgot how all of this might have looked to you.
"You've been skittish all night, you look like you'd rather be anywhere else than here and you...you haven't kissed me," You mumbled the last part, suddenly feeling like a kid in school when your crush wouldn't like you back but you were scared that this was all in your head and you were reading his signs wrong.
"Yn." He started but you shook your head, holding up your hand as you cut him off,
"I can take it if you don't like me but I won't be played for a fool if you're toying with me." Suddenly your lips were against his in a heated kiss, something you'd read about in books where fireworks exploded and you were left with a shortness of breath. God, you could have sworn your leg was lifted up,
"I like you a lot, Yn. I've been too nervous to kiss you and tonight I was going to do it..."
"Hence the gum and the bouncing leg." You laughed a little as you stared at him, your eyes shining like diamonds as he leaned down and kissed you once again.
FELIX:
As fourth date went you were pretty happy with this, more than happy but right now Felix seemed to be terrified which you didn't think was possible. Felix was someone you never thought would be scared of anything, not even bullets.
"You okay?" You quizzed as you turned to see your date's eyes screwed shut as he clutched onto the railing of the Ferris wheel the two of you were riding. 
"Y-Yeah, Fine. Fine. Everything is fine, are we nearly at the bottom?" He questioned making your heart sink, when you'd begged to go onto the ride you hadn't thought about whether or not he was scared of heights or not. You'd just dragged him onto it,
"Felix. I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were cared of heights." He held onto your hand and slowly looked at you as he smiled weakly.
"You were so excited, I couldn't say no to that." You pouted a little as you looked down, you were still far from the end yet and you smiled back at him.
"Let's do something to take your mind off it," You suggested, looking at him as he nodded slowly at you trying to make as little movement as possible on the ride.
"What would you suggest-" He suddenly stopped as you leaned across and kissed him softly, his hands relaxing in yours as he kissed you back with ease, his mind relaxing as he forgot all about how high he was and focussed on your lips. Moving closer to you on the seat and wrapped his arms around your waist as you deepened the kiss, whimpering a little as you felt the ride come to an end.
"Again," Felix ordered the man, his fear of heights washed away as you began to make out on the ride once again.
SEUNGMIN:
"I'm telling you you can't stack!" Seungmin yelled out as you smirked at him from across the kitchen. The two of you had been playing Uno and he got annoyed that you were starting to stack cards on him, it was a quiet night in for you and some of his men since it was raining so hard outside you wanted a cosy night in together.
"I can and I did," You smirked as you looked at him, his eyes glaring at you as his men laughed from the living room. It was no secret that their boss was a sore loser and to lose to you when you were "cheating" was something he wasn't going to stand. Sure, you were only playing around as you "fought" about stacking and it drove the tension wilder between you both.
"You're a cheat," He growled moving closer to you until your back was pressed against the counter top and your faces were mere inches away from one another.
"So do something about it." You egged him on, staring into his eyes before he kissed you wildly, there was no soft kiss first it was wild and full of passion. His arms snacking around you and picking you up to place you onto the counter top, your hands working their way into his hair and tugging on the strands a little. His men filed out of the living room and up the stairs to give you both the privacy you so clearly needed.
JEONGIN:
"We could always go and get a waffle at the dessert place, I know how much you love it there." You suggested as you walked hand in hand with your date - Jeongin - who seemed a little nervous to be walking tonight. The two of you had been on almost five dates now and tonight was the first time you'd ever seen him look so nervous.
"That would be lovely, actually." He let out a breathy chuckle, throwing a glance over his shoulder as you heard tires screeching around the corner.
"What-" You tried to speak but it was too late, your body was against the floor with Jeongin on top of you, one hand holding the back of your head preventing it from hitting the floor and the other was protecting your face. Your heart raced rapidly against your chest as you took in sharp breaths, you knew who Jeongin was when you agreed to date him but you'd never thought ahead enough to realise you could be in danger.
"Innie, it's okay. I think it was just boy racers." You whispered after a few moments of silence, his arm moved from in front of your face and you stared back at one another. The air turning thick, too thick for you to take in anymore as you slowly wet your bottom lip, your heart racing for a whole other reason now. Jeongin slowly inched his face closer to yours until you could feel his breath on your lip and you moved your face closer to his until your lips were touching. 
It was soft and gentle and yet all-consuming as you kissed him softly, your arms slowly wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him closer to you. Sparks flew around you as you whimpered a little, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, both of you forgetting that you were on the ground kissing until someone cleared their throat.
"Sir, we should move before we're spotted," Jisung said to his boss, making you giggle a little as you got up from the floor with Jeongin's help, he straightened out his suit and smirked at you, taking your hand into his and leaving a gently kiss on your skin.
"Let's go get dessert. Food is on me, for everyone." Jeongin said loud enough for his guards to hear. 
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neil-gaiman · 2 years
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hello mr Gaiman how do you do?
I don't know if you'll see this but I thought I'd share an anecdote:
My ma and I watched Good Omens together, after which I finally read the book (both are delightful).
Thing is, I remembered a while back my ma had to change her car's radio, which was old and had a CD reader but not USB or bluetooth. Before removing it, she checked to see if there was a cd inside, just in case. and out pops... Queen's Greatest Hits!
So, while she did not remember playing this cd in her car, she goes oh well, I'll put it back in its box. she was sad to see the cd looked kinda scratched, since we're usually pretty careful.
Anyways, she goes, finds our Queen's Greatest Hits cd box, opens it and inside she finds... our Queen cd!! so now we have 2 of them
We have no idea where the second one came from, but after reading Good Omens I think I have a theory... any thoughts? is this a sign of demonic intervention?
One of those moments where I wish Terry Pratchett was alive, to send it to him...
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mediumgayitalian · 3 months
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prev
———
By all accounts, Will knows what he’s doing.
He still drives like a godsdamn maniac.
“Do you want us to die?” Nico hollers, cheeks aching from the force of his grin, belly flipping at the peal of Will’s laughter.
The bike is exhilarating, as Will weaves it around cars at unbelievable speeds, working with the bike like it’s a part of him, like it’s not a separate thing he has to move. He steers it with a natural ease Nico’s only really seen in some of the best pegasus riders in camp — he knows the machine intimately enough to anticipate how it moves, how it reacts. It really is an extension of his body.
He left any panic about gripping onto Will somewhere in Long Island — to let go would be suicide. He has to hold on to stay onto the bike, to know to lean when Will leans, to tense when he tenses. Besides that, he’s having fun. He’s not the one driving, so he’s free to rest his helmet on Will’s back and watch as the world whips by — dizzying, really, as the speed of the bike making the green-budding trees melt into the bright blue skies, mix with the tar black asphalt, glow under the sparkling sun. The whole world looks like sidewalk chalk after it rains, a swirling mass of colour and streaks as artistic or more than what it was before it was washed away. The only indication that they’re actually going anywhere rather than standing straight in the middle of a kaleidoscope is the spots of roadside green that pop up every now and again, or a heavy lean to the side and Will switches lanes.
As they pull out of New York, Will starts to slow down. The dizzying mass of colours calms until everything’s at a slow spin, as Will mellows out to a speed that can be registered on a mortal odometer. With less wind whipping all over, Nico can actually hear him.
“Better than a flying chariot?”
Nico grins. “Definitely.”
“Another great thing about this is that it has a CD player. Two-nothing for the sad hunk of wood.”
By great thing Will of course means the same four songs I’ve been obsessed with for a month playing over and over and over until you are ready to launch yourself off the bike and join the dead raccoon at the side of the road, but that still doesn’t manage to ruin it. Something about driving top speeds in the early spring air makes it hard to be annoyed about annoying.
(Or maybe it’s the way Nico can feel Will’s muscles shift every time he moves, or how he winks every time he catches Nico’s eye in the mirrors, or the lowkey kind of sinful the way he straddles the seat. But Nico is quite happy sharing a name with a river in Egypt, so he ignores these fun facts and continues to delude himself, an art in which he is become quite wondrously skilled.)
Somewhere between Jersey and Delaware, the traffic picks up again, so Will shouts for him to hold on and cranks up the speed. Nico clenches tightly around his waist, squeezing his eyes shut, this time, and listens to the roar of air as they shove through it fast enough to rival sound. When they’re drifting, again, Nico can feel an incline, and looks up just in time to watch Will exit off the highway.
“Are we here already?” he shouts, incredulous. He knows his ADHD makes him bad with time, but jeez — it can’t have been more than an hour, an hour and a half.
“Not yet,” Will says, barely having to raise his voice as they come to a stop, heel of his boot clicking on the pavement. He checks both ways and then, once nothing comes around the bend, pushes off and guides them down a winding back road, tipping around curves and speeding down hills. Nico’s stomach bottoms out every drop, and he can’t clamp down the giggle that pushes out his throat, as ridiculous as it is. Luckily, Will’s giggling, too.
In a few minutes, they pull up to an old, rusted gas station, with signs so old they’re hand-painted. Will kills the engine and flicks out the kickstand, pulling off his helmet and shaking out his hair. It’s such a tangled mess that Nico can’t help but reach out and tug on a lopsided curl.
“I didn’t think this thing needed gas.”
“It doesn’t!” He pats a dark piece of glass in between the handlebars. “It’s solar-powered. But I figured you could use a minute to stretch your legs, and frankly, if I don’t eat something soon I genuinely might cook you.”
“You forgot to eat today, didn’t you.”
“…No.”
As soon as he speaks, his eyes start to water. His throat swells. He holds his breath for a noble four seconds, and then starts wheezing.
Nico sighs heavily. “Dumbass.”
Hauling him upright by the collar, Nico drags him towards the little corner store. This, at least, is familiar. Will gets caught up in his work easily, and forgets to do things like eat or move or, on one particularly amusing occasion, breathe. (Just tipped right over, one day, onto the floor, mid-poultice. There is a chip on the side of the stone mortar to this day. Nico, Will’s other friends, and his siblings take shifts bringing it up to dunk on him properly. Last he checked, Lou Ellen commissioned Jake Mason to make a plaque to hang on the infirmary wall, memorializing the incident forever.)
“C’mon, stupid. Let’s get you a sandwich. And Benadryl.”
“I’m honestly fine,” Will wheezes, cheeks swelling slightly.
“Stop talking,” Nico orders. “You’re making it worse.”
Wisely, Will clamps up. That, or his throat is starting to close. Either is likely.
His stubborn determination to continue lying despite being literally allergic to it would be impressive, if it wasn’t so irritating.
A little bell rings by the door when Nico pushes it open, making the person sitting behind the counter look up.
“Ah,” they say sagely, folding up their newspaper. “Demigods.”
Immediately, Nico’s on alert. Before he can draw his sword, though, Will lifts a hive-spotted hand in a wave.
“Hey, Berchio,” he croaks.
The person at the counter — Berchio — smiles ruefully.
“Benadryl?”
Nico nods hesitantly, still a little wary at the stranger, but Will is starting to keen over, now, and Nico didn’t think to bring an Epi-Pen (since the allergy is totally avoidable, William, you are your own worst enemy), so he’s running out of options. “Please.”
Chuckling to themself, Berchio ruffles around a shelf by the checkout counter, locating the familiar bottle after a minute — Will gets himself into these situations a lot, he has a serious twizzler problem and should consider getting his own stash instead of lifting it from the Hermes cabin and then lying about where it went — and rolling towards them. The spokes of their wheelchair have little skull charms on them that make a pleasant tinkling noise as they spin, making Nico trust them instantly. He should get Chiron wheel beads. That’s sick as hell.
“Here, kid. Drink water, too, you’re going to dry yourself out.”
Will garbles out a thank you, choking down the medicine. As all meds do with Apollo’s children, lucky bastards that they are, it works quickly, and in minutes he’s breathing right again.
“Gods, I love oxygen.”
“You are a human disaster,” Nico informs him. “Like, hugely.”
Will takes a sip of his water, pondering that. “Is that more embarrassing for you, or for me?”
“Why the hell would it be embarrassing for me?”
“Well, since you like me so much.” Nico chokes. “I might be a disaster, but at least I don’t have a crush on one.”
“All this wheezing,” Berchio sighs. “This must be Nico?”
“The one and only,” Will says cheerfully. He reaches out and touches a warm hand to Nico’s throat, immediately clearing his airways. Now no longer struggling for breath, Nico darts out and punches him, hard, on the arm.
“Ow! Meanie!”
“You are such a derp-faced dweeb,” Nico hisses, fully aware he’s red in the face. “Why are you — why are you this way.”
“I’m gonna tell Chiron you were bullying me!”
“Tell him! I’ll tell him you were the one to sprinkle instant mashed potatoes all over the grass before it rained, not Cecil!”
Will snaps his mouth shut. “I told you that in confidence.”
Nico smiles smugly. “Well, that’s on you. My loyalties are about as secure as my parent’s relationship.”
“If you two are finished flirting,” interrupts an amused voice, making both of them jump. Berchio watches them with their arms crossed, eyebrow raised in a similar chiding way to Chiron last time he caught Nico attempting to sneak an entire tray of brownies from the kitchen (mark his words — as soon as he can shadow travel again, no other camper will be seeing a brownie as long as they shall live). They shake their head, tutting exaggeratedly. “My, my, Will, I’m beginning to understand why you mentioned him every time you opened your mouth. I figured you liked him, but this is ridiculous.”
For once, Will is the one to flush crimson. He stutters something entirely incomprehensible, gesturing vaguely towards Berchio, and then frantically towards Nico, and finally squawks something about trust and the breaching of it. He goes red to the very roots of his hair, clamping his own mouth shut mid-sentence and scowling something awful.
Suddenly, Nico gets it. This is why no one ever leaves him alone. Oh, he is loathe to give the assholes he’s friends with credit, but…
When does he ever get to see Will — confident, easy Will — go scarlet?
“So you like me,” he says, shit eating grin stretching across his face. “Oh ho ho ho.”
“Oh, shut up,” Will snaps, without any heat. “Last time we played volleyball you got a concussion ‘cause you couldn’t stop staring at my chest and took a ball to the face.”
“That — it was — that hit was malicious,” he sputters. “And how is it my fault you’re always ditching your shirt at the first available opportunity like some kind of whore? I couldn’t not look!”
“Avert your eyes, then, scoundrel!”
“I — don’t call me a scoundrel! You’re a scoundrel!”
“You’re both late, is what you are,” Berchio interrupts again. “Will, I assume you’re running an errand?”
Still a little flushed, Will nods. “Yes. Thanks, Berchio. We’re picking up parts in Roanoke, I just stopped for some food.”
“He forgot to eat this morning,” Nico pipes up. He figures that Berchio seems comfortable enough with Will that they can act as a disappointed authority figure, which will make Mr. Daddy Issues Solace crumple like a castle built on a pillar of sand — he needs the humbling. (Also, Nico will get him on a healthier track or die trying. It’s not fair that he gets to be a big hypocrite about good diet and eating and sleeping habits and then turn around and act a fool. Someone needs to watch out for the idiot, or he’s going to get himself killed, and then Nico is going to have to spend the rest of his life in the Underworld, yelling at him.)
“William.”
Nico’s theory is proven correct. Berchio stares at Will with the perfect mix of disappointment and concern, immediately triggering the scramble-to-please expression on Will’s face. He practically stumbles over himself trying to follow after him and get fed.
“Are you happy with a sandwich, Nico? I know Will’ll eat anything that even remotely looks like food, but most of us have standards,” they tease.
Nico snorts at Will’s offended pout. “Yeah, a sandwich is more than fine. Thanks, Berchio.”
After handing them both a sandwich they pull from one of the many fridges in the little convenience store, they guide them outside, parking their wheelchair next to the curb they sit on and joining them in a little picnic.
“So how do you know each other?” Nico asks, gesturing between the two of them.
Will answers first, because Berchio, who is a polite person with manners, takes the time to swallow their food.
“I stop here all the time,” he says, garbled, making both Nico and Berchio wince. Nico takes the initiative to kick him.
“Stop being disgusting and explain yourself without showing off the contents of your mouth,” Nico threatens, “or I’m going to stab you again.”
Will swallows, sticks out his tongue, and continues.
“First time I used the bike, I got it into my head that I should go visit my mom. Would’ve been fine, except I was thirteen and hadn’t been outside of camp in six years and got chased by a pack of empousai the second I left the city, basically.”
“I was collecting herbs and sensed him coming,” Berchio explains. “He crossed the borders I have set up; I hid him here. Now he stops by whenever he’s travelling to chat.” Berchio smiles warmly. “I appreciate the company.”
Will grins back. “Me too! Plus, I very much appreciate the herb exchange. Speaking of which, I have your goldenrod.”
He digs into his jeans pocket, pulling out a bundle. He hands it over to Berchio, who accepts it gratefully, handing over their own bundle to Will.
“And your witch hazel.”
“Berchio’s an Ipotane,” Will explains, catching sight of Nico’s furrowed brow. “They’ve been doing this healing stuff for centuries. They’re real good with salves.”
Nico shakes his head fondly. “Even when you’re being cool, you’re a nerd.” He gestures to the bike. “Taking your secret motorcycle to visit your secret mentor to learn more about healing. Gods, it’s like Apollo made you in a lab.”
“You take that back! I contain multitudes!”
“And now you’re quoting famous poems, dear gods, try to prove my point better, why don’t you —”
“Blah blah blah!”
Nico grins at him, rolling his eyes, and Will is just as playfully dramatic with his bit lip and hidden smile and the hair he tucks behind his ear like he does when he wants to touch somebody but isn’t sure if it’s invited. Nico answers the question for him, reaching out and flicking his knuckles as an excuse to touch his hands. Will takes it, beaming.
“Thank you for the food, Berchio,” Will says when they finish, leaning down to hug them. “We gotta get going, but I’ll be back in a couple weeks. I had a dream about an outbreak, so no doubt the infirmary will need restocked soon.”
“Bring your boyfriend next time,” Berchio suggests, grinning when Nico goes red at the term. “Watching the two of you was not unlike one of Sterne’s famous productions.”
“I take offence to that,” Will says haughtily.
“Good. You needed humbling.”
“Nobody appreciates me around here!”
Nico bites back the I do that threatens to escape his throat. Gods, he’s so embarrassing. Whoever taught him how to speak should have to pay for their crimes.
They head back to the bike, waving goodbye to the Ipotane and speeding off. The drive the rest of the way down south is much calmer, bellies full and energy somewhat spent, and it helps that there’s no traffic. Will cruises, keeping time with the sun that’s inching across the sky, ignoring Nico’s suggestion to attempt to race his dad. They arrive in Roanoke in good time, following Nyssa’s scrawled directions to the parts shop.
The shop is old, visibly, paint peeling and smelling strongly of car grease. As Nysa predicted, the person they speak to — a mechanic, by the look of her jumpsuit — doesn’t ask so much as a single question at the two teenagers rolling up to her doorstep, heading to the greasy shelves of car parts and grabbing what they need with a shrug.
“Well,” says Will slowly as she piles them on the counter, “that’s…more than I anticipated.”
Nico looks at the stack of twisted metal. He looks at the bike. Finally, he looks at his dumbass friend.
“Solace.”
Will scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah?”
“Solace, tell me you have space to put this stuff.”
“Well, we can try the seat compartment?”
Nico buries his head in his hands. “Solace.”
“What!”
“You know what, lughead! We cannot do the one thing we came here to do! Gods!”
“I usually go on supply runs for the infirmary, okay!” Will cries. “That stuff is way less bulky! I forgot to compensate!”
Nico groans. At this point, they’re going to have to bus back, or something equally as stupid. And what are they gonna do with the bike? Gods, if Nico was here by himself and also maybe possibly with Reyna, who could share her strength, he’d just —
He stills.
“Oh, no,” Will says, pointing a stern finger, “oh, no, di Angelo, I know that look, you have been expressly banned —”
“Relax,” Nico grumbles. “Don’t you trust me?”
“With everything,” Will says automatically, then flushes for the second time that day. “But that is not the point —”
Deciding he will return to that later — and he most certainly will — Nico darts forward. Before Will can stop him, he puts both hands on the pile of parts, lunges towards the nearest shadow, and shoved them in, withdrawing as quickly as he can manage.
“Nico!”
He waits.
“Oh, you fuckin’ — you goddamn son of a mother!”
He checks his hands — still solid.
“I am going to smash you flat an’ feed you through a goddamn juicer! You fuckin’ heart-stopper!”
He grins. “I told you I could do some Underworld magic.”
“Underworld deez fuckin’ nuts!” Will stomps forward, grabbing Nico’s hands to do his own inspection. “What part of doctor’s orders are you missin’, huh? You think I wanna watch you fade again? You think I wanna —” His voice cracks, hands tightening around Nico’s wrists. Nico softens immediately, smug look melting into something gentler.
“Will.”
“You coulda died, Nico, you coulda faded to — to nothin’.”
“Will.” He flips his hands so his palms meet Will’s, and squeezes, smiling gently. “Feel my vitals, dork. Am I fading?”
Will exhales. “No.”
“Am I close?”
“…No.”
He squeezes again. “I’m fine, Will.”
“You scared me.” The anger in his voice has faded into something soft — something afraid. Suddenly the hands on his wrists feel more clingy than anything, and a twinge of guilt goes off in Nico’s stomach.
“I’m sorry.” He squeezes Will’s hands one last time, and when that doesn’t do much, lets go to wrap around his cheeks, instead, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I don’t mean to restrict you,” Will says softly. “It’s just — I worry, is all.”
Nico taps their foreheads together, smile pulling at his face. This, he can — this he can deal with. This version of Will, soft and nervous and caring, makes it a lot easier to slide his fingers into the mess of Will’s curls, to run his thumbs over his cheekbones and feel him shiver.
“Would that have anything to do with the alleged crush you have on me?”
Will grins. “It might.” One of his hands comes up to rest on top of Nico’s, brushing over his knuckles. “All your moonin’ after me had me looking twice, I guess.”
“You’re such a dick,” Nico scoffs, and yanks him down to meet him in the middle, laughing, swallowing his smile and relishing in the warm press of their bodies. It’s — gods, it’s everything, it’s a thousand times better than he imagined, and at the same time everything he expected. Will smells like wind and sunshine and his lavender shampoo, and his hands are roughened from all the antiseptic he has to use, and his lips are surprisingly chapped, but the press of his cheeks is soft, and the feel of him is overwhelming. It feels, as cliche as it is, like the final burst of a firework after watching the smokey trail of the rocket with bated breath, watching it crest the night sky before exploding, finally, amongst the stars, it’s like —
A cleared throat startled them apart.
“Anytime y’all feel like paying for those parts, it would be great.”
Will grins sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says, pulling out the money Chiron gave him. His grin turns sly, and Nico’s knees turn to jelly. “My boyfriend’s just super distracting.”
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wolverinedoctorwho · 1 year
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Reblog for bigger sample size, yadda yadda, the whole nine yards. And feel free to share the context in the notes, I'm nosy haha
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