It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.
Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.
It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.
Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.
Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.
It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.
It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.
Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.
They have a couch now. A sofa.
It's so fucking unreal.
He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.
And it feels really fucking big.
At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.
For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.
The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.
It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.
And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."
"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.
Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.
Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.
"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.
"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."
Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.
Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.
And it's so unreal.
"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."
Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"Why's it crazy, angel?"
He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.
"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."
Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.
"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."
"We've got a couch now."
Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.
"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."
Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."
And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.
But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.
And they have each other.
They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.
In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.
Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)
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Hello! Can you write something with Valeria garza with f!reader (as her wife) who wears classy dresses, expensive jewelry, heels, hair and makeup always done, with a sassy but lovingly attitude? Thank you <333
Hey! Yeah, sure!
Valeria with a Fancy!Reader
Most of what you’re wearing was probably bought by Valeria since she’s supportive like that. Whenever she sees something you might like, she’ll buy it for you, whether that be online or in a store she just so happened to walk by. The vendors likely know her by then since she does, more often than not, go out of her way to find something you might like. And when she’s operating internationally? She’ll find the fanciest clothing out there and buy it for you. And if they don’t have it in your size for whatever reason she’ll have it tailored, anything for her beloved little spouse. You don’t need to lift a finger in order to get something nice you might want.
However, if you do want to, then you can. She’s more than happy to go outside with you and look for some lovely dresses, jewelry and whatnot. Her sense of fashion isn’t that bad either, so she can advise you perfectly fine. She knows her colors and how well they would go with your skin color, your eyes and any other accessories you might want to wear. But don’t always force her to go outside just for clothes shopping, sometimes she just wants to stay inside, unwind and maybe take a nap. During those times you might not want to drag her outside too much, because no matter how much you sass her, she will always sass you back twice as bad. She also has the advantage of being very threatening when she wants to be, so don’t annoy her too much.
Valeria has quite the amount of jewelry herself, from brooches with sapphires in them, to earrings with genuine amethysts. Whatever you want, she likely has some variation of it. Since she started her business, she doesn’t always have the time to wear everything anymore, but you’re more than welcome to take whatever you want in this case. If she’s home, you might want to tell her, though, so she won’t start wondering where her necklace of real pearls has gone. As long as you return it to her, everything is alright, though. She’ll give you everything but one item in her possession: It’s a silver necklace with a locket. It doesn’t have a picture in it or anything, but it holds sentimental value to her. If you take it she’ll yell at you, but everything else is fair game.
Valeria doesn’t really wear makeup herself, she’ll just look stupid when it starts getting runny as she’s sweating. Besides, she’s here to fuck things up, not to look pretty. Valeria is a businesswoman, which means she won’t do much paperwork, that’s for her lackeys, but instead she’ll kick ass if she needs to. Therefore, she doesn’t know too much about makeup, so you’ll have to tell her what she needs to look out for and what may look good on you. While she may know which clothing looks good on you, she’s a bit lost with makeup. If you tell her what you want, then she’ll get it for you, but she might not always go out of her way to buy some new mascara, eyeshadow or blush for you. Again, you’re better off just telling her.
As for heels and hair: You can get your hair done however you want to. While she may not particularly be helpful in that regard, aside from paying for your visits at the hairdresser, she doesn’t have the time to learn how to do your hair either. She can braid it if you want, in a simple manner, but it doesn’t really go beyond that. Heels, though, she’ll look out for what she can find. In fact, if it’s your cup of tea, she might get you a matching purse while she’s at it as well.
Again, as mentioned previously, if I were you, I wouldn’t give her too much attitude, she knows how to deal with people like that. She sees something like that as a challenge, you sass her, she’ll put you in place. She’ll be far from violent, but your cocky behavior needs to be toned down a bit, especially when she’s tired. You’ll do as she says eventually, no matter how long you resist. And when you do finally listen to her? She’ll smirk and call you out on it. It’s a game to her, and she always wins in the end. Whether she needs to trap you between the wall and her, holding your face between her thumb and index finger to guide it, or revoke any and all rights for kisses until you’re desperate for one doesn’t matter, she’ll get her way eventually.
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I know it's a story, oh I know it's just a story. But why does it feel like my worst nightmare?
My Explorers of Sky Hero, Echo!
Lately I've been writing a study on her and this paragraph is taken from my rough rough draft. It's a more in-depth exploration of her character/origin/experiences and since I am a huge fan of the darkrai reincarnation theory, this is my personal take on the concept.
I think it's a bit poetic that Echo, in the aftermath of everything, winds up as a dark-type again (and one connected to the moon no less, the irony) as well. I mean, her timeline of lives has literally been this:
Darkrai (New Moon/Pitch Black) -> Human -> Eevee (Evolution) -> Umbreon (Moonlight)
A lot of her evolution into umbreon has to do with her personal trauma/amnesia and also significant influence from dusknoir (who she trusted and cared about), but deep down I feel like her evolution was also partially determined by the fragmented remnants of her original self. She even tried to evolve into leafeon, which obviously, did not work out as planned. Perhaps this is her past lives way of manifesting in her current self, though she is no longer the same pokemon anymore. Maybe it has something to do with self-forgiveness or acceptance? She still has a lot of healing to do, though.
Once evolving into a dark type, Echo slowly starts to regain some of her memories from her time as Darkrai. And Team Wish's new friendship with Cresselia, who is more perceptive than she has any right to be, gives Echo a lot of insight into exactly who she is. This spirals into Echo battling the reality of her past actions alone for a long time because how is she supposed to admit the truth to Sora? That she was the direct cause of their shared suffering? That she and darkrai are one and the same? That all of the pokemon of the future lived in an eternity of hell because she desired it? Of course, she keeps quiet for a long time out of pure fear-- because if Sora rejected her, she'd fall apart. It's a lot to keep secret but what else can she do?
And bonus!! Does Echo's shadow change during each night of the new moon? Hmm. Sure does seem like it.
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