Tumgik
#first meeting
colourstreakgryffin · 1 month
Note
I had a silly idea, what about an Cheshire Cat!reader x Alastor? (Feel free not to do this dearie ( ·∀·) )
Haha. OMFG. A Cheshire Cat would really match with Alastor well! So, thank you, Lady Beelzebub! I’ll try this out!
Alastor- A Little Game
Tumblr media
Vaggie has been so frustrated. Charlie has been trying to ease the crew. Husk is on the verge of murdering somebody. Niffty is annoyed that her cleaning equipment is gone. Angel is quite amused by what’s going on and Alastor is very invested in the cause
Lately, the Hazbin Hotel has been dealing with a suddenly appearing invisible menace causing pranks after pranks nonstop; locking or trapping up doors, stealing items and storing them high up, whispering out in the halls at night
Alastor didn’t suspect he’d ever run into the culprit of all this trouble but he has. After Charlie had been giving Vaggie a calmdown pep talk, the Princess politely asked Alastor to check around the hallways for any more prank remnants, the Overlord did so, just to see what he may find… and he made a incredible discovery
A floating cat-like sinner with magenta and pink colouring, most importantly, a big Cheshire wide grin. A rival of Alastor’s own smile and with almost half a body, as if cut in half
The sinner was in the midst of setting up a trap consisting a big silver bucket full of thick blood over the top of Alastor’s own hotel room door, but they’ve been caught in the act
And Alastor doesn’t plan on dealing out punishment… he’s too amused
“Ah… you must be the little troublesome beast causing so much disrupt in this Hotel?” Alastor asks almost immediately with literally no malice towards what’s been going on, his transatlantic accent smooth and almost making his voice sound more friend than he actually is as this cat sinner… or otherwise, you
Just giggles under your breath and disappears into thin air properly with the wide grin floating in the air for a few seconds almost magically before dissipating with you
“And if I have?” Your voice rings out after a few more seconds of silence, disembodied, invisible. You can’t be tracked with eyes but Alastor’s powerful magic can pinpoint where you are by detecting your own demonic magic, sharply looking over his shoulder to be greeted with your floating head
Just your head… no body, it’s like before when it was half of your torso. Now, it’s just your head. Your magic is a lot like the storybook fairytale character, Cheshire Cat
But that’s because you’re the most Cheshire Cat person anybody will ever met. Alastor couldn’t help but be so amused by you; you’re skilled, you’re snarky, you know what you’re doing and you’re resourceful, good at planning
Able to have avoided being caught by everybody in the Hotel for months now and you’re lucky enough to have been caught by the one member who enjoyed the chaos and madness the pranks caused
“I believe you must avoid the others if so” Alastor proclaims, almost mysterious and still silky in that radio-laced but classy and dapper tone as you tilt your head confused. For the first time, you’ve been snapped out of your mischievous chaotic demeanour
You suspected him to bark, to growl, to be annoyed so him not is so odd to you but quickly brushing it off, you manifest your whole body into frame. Cute fluffy striped cat-like ears flicking and long fluffy cat-like tail curling around, almost like a coil spring
You couldn’t really understand this Overlord, something you don’t like. You’d prefer people to be confused by you, by your style of insanity and madness, by your enjoyment of causing so much disorder and high-tension emotions
You were about to speak, basically floating over his shoulder before Alastor beats you to the punch. You can’t tell if you’ll like him or despise him with the way he speaks, almost condescending
“If you’re going to make my project topsy-turvy, I suggest do a better prank”
1K notes · View notes
superbat-love · 2 months
Text
Bruce: Are you sure this is where you last saw your dad, kid?
Jon: Yeah.
Bruce: Any chance that you can spot him among these dense trees?
Jon: [shakes his head]
Bruce: Your powers haven't developed sufficiently yet, huh? I don't even know if your dad is conscious and can hear us or not. [hears the rustling of leaves] Who’s there?!
Damian: Stop, don’t shoot! [climbs down from the tree]
Bruce: Damian, I should have known. Why are you here?
Damian: I just wanted to help!
Bruce: [pinches the bridge of his nose] Fine. Looks like we’ll have to do this another way then. Damian, grab the kid.
Damian grabs Jon.
Bruce: Jon, I want you to make the saddest face possible.
Jon: Like this?
Bruce: Hmm, a bit more on the sad side and less disgust maybe?
Damian: Jon, imagine that you switched on the television and realized that your favorite tv show was canceled.
Bruce: Now you look like the world just ended, but we can work with that. [turns around and raises his voice] Superman, I have your kid! Come out and face me or I’ll turn your son into the ultimate weapon of destruction and take over the world!
Clark: [crawls out of the bushes, covered in leaves, with his eyes glowing red] Let. Go. Of. My. Son.
Jon: Dad, you’re alive!
Bruce: Superman, we finally meet at last.
Superbat Family Fics
1K notes · View notes
ayyy-imma-ninja · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Deja vu?
2K notes · View notes
rnaxxy · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
cupcakeslushie · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
TMNTtober day 12. First Meeting!
Was originally just practicing 2012 Leo and Raph but it got away from me lol. Leo deserves to razz his little brother more often.
6K notes · View notes
crljhnn · 1 year
Text
The older Jefferson
Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader
Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.
No physical description; No use of y/n
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: None
A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.
[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]
Tumblr media
“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.
“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”
“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.
“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”
“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”
“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”
“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.
“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.
“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”
“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”
That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.
Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.
And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.
You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.
Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.
The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.
“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.
He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m-”
At least he tries to.
“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.
He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.
He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.
You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.
“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.
You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.
It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.
While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.
Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.
Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.
Silence.
The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.
“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.
That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.
“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.
“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops
“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?
Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.
“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”
“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”
“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.
Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.
He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.
At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.
He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.
4K notes · View notes
streco3y · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
'Give. It. Back."
"ACH! OK, chill!"
Thinking about Sniper too often... Afraid I'm a little obsessed :(
2K notes · View notes
msbilberry · 4 months
Text
Thorin just said, “so this is the hobbit”, and Bilbo mentally already rebuilt Erebor, planted an acorn and raised Frodo with Thorin.
405 notes · View notes
elitadream · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I couldn’t resist... 👀
This one’s for @istadris. x3
2K notes · View notes
yuushin7 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Day 03: First meet; Day 17: Sharing bed OR "How it started" vs…. How they'll end up someday 😅 They're getting there! Just very slowly Day 03 could also double as alternate for Day 16: Red Thread…. Which gives me idea that I could combine 2 days if I end up lagging behind too much 🤔especially since not all prompts spark inspiration for me 😅
850 notes · View notes
metalhoops · 1 year
Text
Steve was going to die crouched behind a picnic table in an unfamiliar town. That’s how he saw it, anyway. 
He’d been looking for Robin. That’s where it all went wrong. She hadn’t shown up for work at the video store that Saturday morning. It wasn’t like her. The two had just started at their new job and it was a goddamn Saturday. Steve had been run off his feet all day. 
At the end of his shift, he couldn’t help but look for her. Since the incident with the Russians, both he and Robin had their days where they would disappear, but they’d always let the other know they were safe. 
Steve never used to be a worst-case-scenario kind of guy until everything with The Upside Down. All day he’d felt panic rising in his stomach. What if she’d been taken by demogorgons or kidnapped by secret government operatives?
He drove the BMW past all of Robin’s familiar haunts. She wasn’t at home or at Steve’s place. The school was closed, so she couldn’t be at band and she’d have asked him to drive her to the movies.
That’s when he started to check the places he didn’t want to find her. The Junkyard, Lover’s Lake, and the remains of the Hawkins lab.  She wasn’t there. It was then he recalled a conversation they’d had last Sunday. 
“All right, I’ve got some more evidence,” Robin had exclaimed days before, and Steve had known exactly what she was talking about. 
“Well don’t hold out on me, Rob,” Steve pushed, pulling out a notebook he should’ve been using to keep track of people’s late rental returns. 
Instead, it harboured two columns and a series of tallies, an ode to their Scoops Days Steve was secretly proud of thinking up. ‘Vicky likes boobies’, proclaimed one column while the other argued, ‘Vicky doesn’t like boobies’. He’d never said he was mature. Plus Steve got a kick out of watching Robin squirm. They’d been trying to work out if Vicky was a viable crush. Steve thought she was but so far the columns were an even split. 
“Last night I saw her car parked outside the fairgrounds in the next town over. Any other day of the week and I wouldn’t think it was weird, but Saturday night, it’s a spot, you know?” Steve didn’t know. 
“A spot?” He echoed. 
“Yeah, you know? Like how skull rock is ‘a spot’ but it’s only for certain kinds of people.” Steve’s brow pinched together and he nodded. 
He could imagine what Robin was implying. He’d added another tally to his favourite side and thought nothing more of it until he’d run out of places to look for Robin in Hawkins. It was a Saturday night. It was a long shot, but he’d take it.
Steve drove to the next town over and was surprised to see a smattering of cars at the fairground. There were a handful of boys in their twenties sitting on picnic benches around a boombox playing music Steve was vaguely familiar with. Then there were a couple of girls sipping beer and passing the bottle around. 
If you didn’t know, it’d seem like any other half-assed party but if you knew what to look for, you’d know you were in the right place. Steve didn’t know when he’d become the kind of person who knew what to look for. 
One of the guys had his hand tucked into the back pocket of another’s jeans. Then, of course, he saw his fair share of coloured hankies, carabineers and key rings. Sometimes, Steve actually listened when Robin talked to him about that kind of stuff. He figured it must get lonely, not having anyone to talk to about those things. He wanted to be a good friend even if he couldn’t relate to Robin. Steve liked girls. That was the beginning and end of it.  
He studied each of the partygoers' faces and felt his throat begin to constrict. Robin wasn’t there. Where the hell was she? This had been the last stone left unturned. Now what? 
Steve’s heartbeat was a kick drum, threatening to crack his ribs in two as it burst from his chest cavity. His vision began to tunnel and a ringing in his ears swelled to a crescendo as he crouched behind an abandoned picnic table.
What if something happened to her? How the hell was he meant to find her? 
Steve felt a hand on his shoulder. 
He looked up with a start, almost leaping out of his skin when he saw one of the boy’s faces inches from his. The space was dark, illuminated only by the moon and the intermittent flickering of car headlights.
“Hey. You’re okay. Just breathe with me for a second, alright?” The boy instructed.
His voice was vaguely familiar, but Steve couldn’t string together a coherent set of thoughts. His body was focused on not keeling over. He tried to copy the overdramatised rise and fall of the boy’s chest. 
“There you go,” the boy soothed as Steve’s breathing evened out. 
“Guessing, it’s your first time here. Don’t worry too much about it. The first time I went to a gay bar in Indy I had a panic attack in the bathroom.” Munson. The voice belonged to Eddie Munson, Steve’s brain supplied at last. 
They’d gone to high school together. Though Steve wasn’t sure if the guy had graduated. He vaguely recalled Eddie hating all jocks on principal and Steve had tried to give the boy a wide berth because of it. Turned out he was the type to hang out at gay bars. Okay. 
There was no way Eddie recognised Steve. He was being way too nice to him. Maybe Munson was a good guy. Steve hadn’t taken the time to find out back then. Steve hadn’t really been a good person. He was trying hard to be better.
“No one’s tried to push you into anything, right? Because that’s not what this place is about. I might not be able to kick anyone’s ass, but I know a guy who could,” Eddie commented, confirming Steve’s suspicions. He was a good guy. 
“No. I’m good... I’m looking for someone,” Steve breathed, hoping maybe Munson would’ve seen Robin. 
Then again, if Eddie hadn’t seen her, he’d be outing Robin, which Steve knew was a shitty thing to do. Eddie spoke before Steve had the chance to decide what he was going to say.
“You see him around?” Eddie asked, moving to sit beside Steve on the grass, scanning the crowd. 
Oh. Eddie assumed Steve was... That was fair. He was at ‘a spot’. He guessed he could work with that. 
“I think he stood me up,” Steve covered, looking for an excuse to get out of there. 
“His loss,” Eddie mused, placing a hand on Steve’s knee. Oh, no. Flirting. 
“I should get out of here,” Steve stuttered, jerking upwards.
“Right, shit. Sorry. Too strong,” Eddie spoke half to Steve, half to himself as he stood up and dusted grass from his jeans.  
“Don’t let me spook you. Seriously. You look like you need a night out. I can sit all the way over there and we can pretend this never happened,” Eddie proposed. 
Steve was dreading the ride back to Hawkins, knowing if he went home now, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Steve surprised himself by shaking his head. 
“No, I don’t want you to... just... don’t go. This isn’t something I do. I could use the company.” Steve was surprised at the words as they left his mouth. In what world did Steve Harrington want to hang out with Eddie Munson?
“Alright, no funny business, I promise. I’ve got some beer in a cooler. We could keep things all PG-13,” Eddie proposed, leading Steve to where the aforementioned cooler was stashed on a free picnic bench. 
“I’ve got to drive back home, but I could stay for a bit,” Steve remarked, sitting down beside Eddie’s cooler on the tabletop. 
He tried to focus on the distant music and the sound of passing cars. His thoughts kept returning to Robin. He dug his thumbnail into the table, scratching at the splintering wood as he tried to stop his mind from reeling. 
“Is your place far from here?” Eddie questioned, sitting beside Steve and lounging back on his elbows, glancing up at the night sky. 
“That wasn’t a preposition, by the way,” Eddie clarified quickly. 
“I was just trying to make conversation. Christ, man. I’m shit at this.”
“Shit at what?” Steve questioned absentmindedly, glad to have a distraction. 
Eddie grabbed a strand of hair and coyly hid a smile behind it. 
“You know. Talking to pretty guys.’ 
It wasn’t like no one had called Steve ‘pretty’ before. They had. But they’d always done it as an insult. He’d heard the word, ‘pretty boy’, spat through gritted teeth a handful of times, but no one had ever made it sound like a good thing, like something Steve wanted to be. 
It was strange. Steve hadn’t been lying when he said this wasn’t something he usually did. He wasn’t gay. He didn’t hang out with men in a way that walked the tightrope between platonic and flirtatious, but he’d gone on a lot of dates with girls, some that’d been far worse than the way his night was panning out. Steve was surprised at just how comfortable and familiar the setting felt.  
“I’m from Hawkins,” Steve admitted, feeling Eddie’s keen eyes on his profile. 
“Small world. Me too.” Everyone knew everyone in Hawkin’s. It’d only be a matter of time before Eddie placed him. Then what? He couldn’t imagine Eddie would want to hang out with him for long after that. 
“I came here with a buddy but I’m pretty sure he’s screwed off by now, you mind giving me a lift? Think we could both use the company.” 
Steve was always driving the kids around, that’s what he was good at, and it’d be a distraction. Steve nodded before he could think any better of it. 
“I can do that. You say the word,” Steve muttered and followed Eddie’s eyes to the stars. 
“Soon, give me a few minutes to enjoy the view”. 
That was the one good thing about small towns in the dead of night. The stars could really shine, painting their way across the sky, all milk and moonbeams. For once, Steve wasn’t thinking of the things lurking in the shadows. 
He could hardly make out the features of Eddie’s face, but he couldn’t help but think, if this was like the dates he’d been on with girls, this was the point where he’d kiss them. It’d be romantic. At heart, Steve had always been a romantic.
A car pulled up close to the two boys, bathing them in yellowed light. Eddie’s face turned to look at Steve. His eyes swelled wide with recognition. He’d expected Eddie to be shocked, this was the last place Steve would expect to find himself on an ordinary day. What he didn’t anticipate was Eddie jerking back as though Steve had physically hit him, his body tumbling backwards off the bench and onto the grassy lot. 
“Holy Hell, Harrington,” Eddie choked out, as he tried to pull himself back to his feet, staggering. Right. Steve should’ve known this wasn’t going to end well. He should just leave now. 
“I thought your voice sounded familiar. Christ. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. Here? Holy shit.” 
Steve stood, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to eyeball the best path to the Beamer, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but there. 
“I’m going to go...” Steve began but was cut off by a wild flailing of limbs and Eddie’s hand encircling his wrist. 
“Sorry. Shit. Sorry. Steve, Stevie. Wait. You surprised me.” Eddie placated, his eyes swollen wide as he looked at his fingers around Steve’s limb. It was as though his body had grabbed Steve of its own volition. 
Steve couldn’t help but notice the muffled conversations from the surrounding tables had quietened. 
“I get it if you don’t want to take me home, but I won’t tell anyone... you know. Cross my heart, dude.” 
Steve hadn’t been worried about that until now. His heart rate sped up again. He wasn’t queer but if rumour got around. His dad would kill him. Steve wasn’t sure that the statement was hyperbolic. Eddie must have seen something in Steve’s face, because his grip on his wrist tightened. 
“Promise I won’t. Look, somehow I’ve managed to collect your little flock of ducklings into my D&D club at school. They think you’re a good dude. That’s good enough for me.” 
Steve trusted Eddie. He shouldn’t. He told himself he was dumb for doing so, but his instincts won out. 
“Well, come on then, if you still want a ride,” Steve grumbled, pulling Eddie along with him to the BMW. 
The two talked on the ride back to Hawkins, but all of it was inconsequential. It was just what Steve needed. Eddie rambled about the kids, something he and Steve had in common. It was the only thing Steve knew they had in common besides the fact Eddie thought they were gay, or at least that they both liked men. 
It should’ve been awkward talking to Eddie, knowing the guy would’ve slept with him if given the chance, but surprisingly it wasn’t. Maybe that’s how Robin had felt about him at the beginning of their friendship. No. Don’t think about Robin. She was safe. She had to be. Steve would know if she wasn’t. 
“What happened to you, Steve?” He heard Eddie ask out of the blue and realised his fingers had been gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned bone white. 
Steve didn’t know how to answer the question in a way that wouldn’t spur on deeper probing, so he said, “Nothing”. The reply seemed to tell Eddie everything he needed to know. 
“I guess I grew up,” Steve supplied lamely.
“I wasn’t talking about how you don’t hang out with the same dicks from school. You stopped doing that before you graduated. Don’t ask me how I know that. Don’t make me say it. You’ve always been pretty, is all I’ll say. This is different. You never used to look so... haunted.” 
What was Steve supposed to say to that? He didn’t say anything, just turned the radio up and wondered how Eddie Munson, of all people, saw right through him. 
When they pulled up out front of the Munson’s trailer, Eddie paused, looking Steve over. 
“Hey, Harrington? You still all on your lonesome in that big old mansion of yours?” Steve rolled his eyes but nodded.
“Well, would you look at that? Me too. I mean, minus the mansion. Want to not be alone, together?” 
“I’ve got work in the morning,” Steve deflected as he found himself switching off the car and following Eddie up to the front door. 
“Won’t bother me. I sleep like the dead.” 
Steve was a horrible sleeper, not that it would matter. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping that night. Maybe in the morning if he couldn’t find Robin he should call Nancy. She knew everything about missing friends, about knowing something was wrong and yet feeling like you had no one to turn to. He wished he’d been that person for Nancy years before but he hadn’t and there was nothing he could do about that now. 
Steve found himself tucked into the corner of Eddie’s bed. The two boys had stripped off their jeans but kept their shirts on. He kept comparing the night to dates he’d had in the past. He kept thinking how easy it felt to do the same with a man. Steve liked women, he knew that, but he was beginning to entertain the idea he might be able to like men. Couple that crisis with his worries that Robin was somewhere alone and hurting and you had one messy knot of emotions Steve didn’t know how to unpick. 
“Night, Stevie,” Eddie muttered, as his hand made its way to rest on his inner thigh. His breath smelled of alcohol. 
“This okay?” He clarified. Yes, Eddie was a good guy and Steve wished he’d known that sooner. 
“Yeah,” Steve admitted because it was okay, much to his surprise.
When Eddie did eventually fall asleep, he rolled over, keeping one hand on Steve’s thigh and slinging the other over Steve’s chest, somehow ending face down in the crook of Steve’s neck. He smelled of beer and smoke. It was the longest night of Steve’s life. 
True to his word, Eddie remained sound asleep as Steve extracted himself from under him come morning. He paused to jot his number down on a notebook beside Eddie’s bed, surprising himself once again. He hadn’t gotten or wanted a second date with anyone in months. He wasn’t sure this was classified as a first date, but it had him wanting more of whatever it was. 
Steve parked outside Robin’s place, surprised to find her waiting for him in the driveway, unharmed and applying her makeup with the help of a compact mirror as though it were any other day. 
“You look like crap,” Robin noted as she slid into the passenger seat. 
Steve could cry. Steve would’ve cried if it hadn’t been for years worth of emotional repression. 
“You weren’t at work yesterday,” Steve said by way of explanation. 
“Yeah. I went to Indianapolis for my aunt’s birthday. I told you I was going last week.” 
Oh. Steve had forgotten. He nodded, then sniffed pathetically, pretty sure he was about to cry. Robin was fine. She’d never been in danger. She placed her hand over his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 
“Dingus, were you worried about me?” She teased, trying to lighten the mood. He shook his head, a blatant lie. 
“So worried you didn’t go on one of your crappy Saturday night dates or do you have another story to tell me about how you stuck out with a smoking hot babe... again.” That brought Steve to his second crisis. 
“Kind of.” Robin raised a brow.
“Kind of? Steve Harrington, since when are you coy about the people you date? Dude, when it comes to me you have no boundaries.” She was right. 
“I think I went on a date with a guy,” Steve admitted, not meeting Robin’s eye as she let out an inhuman squeak. 
“I was gone for one goddamn day and that’s the day you decide to date a guy?” She gasped, smacking his arm. 
In retrospect, it was pretty funny. Steve’s urge to cry was suddenly stifled as his body rocked with laughter. 
“I think I owe you one, actually,” Steve admitted, knowing he wasn’t going to hear the end of it. 
Read Part 2 Here
2K notes · View notes
ericityyy · 6 months
Text
𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦. 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 960
𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
Tumblr media
One night in the Cooper residence, Georgie was putting his clothes in a bag as his father walked by his room, noticing the actions of his son.
The reason for this? Georgie wrote a letter to Veronica in which he said that he would be a much better partner than her current boyfriend, Dustin, who he found out was much taller than him through his mother.
"Hey," George called out to his son, who has his back turned on his father and is still continuing to put his clothes in a bag.
"Hey," Georgie called back, not facing his father, who was leaning on a door frame.
“Going somewhere?”
“Alaska.” The younger Cooper sighed. “Gonna work on the pipeline.” His southern accent was heard, except there was no playfulness added to it like usual.
“Alaska, huh?" George shook his head a little. “That’s pretty far.” He managed to stutter out, looking at his son’s back.
Georgie, still not paying him any mind, said, “Not far enough, but it’ll have to do.”
George started walking toward his son. "Look, Georgie, I know it feels bad right now, but... I promise it’ll get better.” He went inside the room and leaned on a desk while crossing his arms across his chest.
“How’s it gonna get better?” Georgie shook his head, finally facing his father, an annoyed frown painted on his face. “Veronica thinks I’m a jerk, and everyone in the school’s calling me Lovey Cooper.”
George cringed at the name. “Ooh, that is not a good name.”
Georgie put his pants in the bag, not folded properly. “It doesn’t matter, cause I’m never going back to that school.” His dad called his attention again, making Georgie put his shirt harshly on top of the bag as he flopped down on his bed, facing George Sr.
“You’re a good-looking kid, and you got a big heart.” George looked his son directly in the eyes to make him understand every word he’s saying. “Once we get you on a daily shower schedule, the girls are going to be lining up.” He attempted to joke in order to lighten up the mood, but it didn’t work on Georgie.
“I don’t want girls.” Georgie shook his head, looking at his dad. “I want Veronica.”
“Yeah, maybe you’ll get her, and maybe you won't, but someday you’ll find the woman who was really meant for you.” George did his best to give Georgie hope to not be down. He will find the woman for him someday.
Suddenly, Mary walked by carrying a laundry basket. “You mean like Kathryn Dempsey?”
“Alaska’s beautiful. How ‘bout I go with you?” George smiled tightly at his son, his arms still crossed over his chest.
Georgie frowned at the new name his mother mentioned. “Who’s Kathryn Dempsey?”
“I was 15 years old!” George shouted near the doorway for Mary to hear as he exited Georgie’s room.
That left the teenage boy alone with his thoughts. Another girl? Like hell, there’s another one. Veronica will always be the girl. Georgie shook his head and dumped his bag full of clothes on the floor as he closed the door to his room.
・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・
The next day at school, Georgie mostly kept his head down. Avoiding anyone as much as possible, still feeling humiliated about what happened yesterday. If only he had the choice to not go to school, but one look from Mary Cooper and he was already at the door with his school bag.
Without looking at where he was going, he accidentally bumped into someone causing her walkman to slip from her fingers along with her headphones, “Ah! Dang it.” He heard the girl exclaim quietly.
“I’m so sorry.” Georgie kneeled down at the same time as the girl to pick up her things, “I wasn’t looking where I was— woah.” He finally looked up to see a girl about the same year as him. She was wearing her hair down while her glasses were brushed up on the top of her head.
Brown eyes stared back at him before he was snapped out of it when the girl stood up while taking her walkman back from his hands. “It’s all good, I wasn’t looking where I was going too so no harm done.” She smiled at him, the girl looked down at her wrist where her watch was situated, “Shit, I gotta go, I can’t be late for class.”
Georgie snapped out of it when she turned her back on him and started running toward the hallway while blasting Guns N’ Roses in her ears. (Georgie faintly heard the song Sweet Child O’ Mine when he picked up her headphones.)
“But I didn’t even know your name.” Georgie whispered out when he couldn’t find the girl anymore, “Dang it!” He exclaimed quietly before jumping a little when he saw his little brother beside him, “Sheldon, what the heck are you doin’?”
Sheldon looked at the hallway the girl ran to, “Please avoid bumping into people, you’re causing a scene and I would appreciate it if you would not. It’s unhealthy and unhygienic, then again, I do not expect hygiene from you of all people.”
Georgie rolled his eyes before walking away from his brother, “And please don’t infect Y/N L/N.” That made Georgie halt upon the mention of your name, “She is the only tolerable and smart person here aside from Tam, and me of course. She comes second to smart people in this school.”
Y/N L/N, huh? Georgie continued his walk with a slight smile on his face. Maybe next time, he’ll have a proper conversation with you. Especially when he didn’t even think of Veronica, the moment he saw you.
Other girls. Guess you’re right, dad.
Tumblr media
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄
i know that there’s not much interaction here so i was thinking if i’ll make another part to this. But then again, the trope is love at first sight so i guess that’s the goal.
424 notes · View notes
superbat-love · 1 month
Text
Clark groggily blinked his eyes open. Something seemed off. His ceiling appeared unusually distant, and its familiar features seemed altered. His gaze shifted to a peculiar sight—a bat was perched on the ceiling. Bats in his bedroom? Bewildered, he turned his head, only to discover a slumbering figure beside him, resembling a Calvin Klein model.
Panic surged within him. Had he followed someone home from the bar last night? What had possessed him? And what would his children think?
The man stirred and opened his eyes. Clark launched into a flurry of apologies, admitting he had never been so intoxicated and couldn't recall anything from the previous night. The man looked at him with bleary eyes.
“Relax, Superman. Your virtue is intact.”
“What happened?” Clark realized he must have revealed his secret identity to a complete stranger.
“I brought you to my med bay and extracted the kryptonite from your chest, but you were shivering and dragged me into bed with you. You said you needed to protect me from the cold,” the man explained, slipping on his pants. “Since escaping your grasp was nearly impossible, I decided to make myself comfortable and settle in for the night.”
The events of the past week flooded Clark’s mind, and the man’s identity became clear. “Oh! I’m so sorry, that was presumptuous of me. Umm, I also want to apologize for trying to attack you yesterday when you found me, Batman.”
“What does presumptuous mean?” Someone mumbled nearby, but was quickly hushed by another person.
“Call me Bruce.” Bruce yawned, rising to his feet. “Don’t fret. I did use your son as bait, after all. And consider yourself lucky, I don’t usually sleep with someone on the first date.”
Clark blushed and fidgeted nervously. “I’ll take responsibility for my actions.”
Bruce smirked. “Moving a little fast, aren’t we? Are you sure you want to be taking responsibility for me and my eight kids?”
“E-Eight kids?”
“Yes, you can start by taking one off my hands. I recommend Damian.”
“You can’t send me away! Alfred would never allow it!” Damian protested from under the bed.
“We can play with my new Xbox! Dad just got it for me for my birthday.” Jon chimed in.
Bruce bent down to address the two kids huddled underneath. “I won’t, provided you stop eavesdropping on private conversations.”
Superbat Family Fics
715 notes · View notes
ayyy-imma-ninja · 5 months
Note
Well, idk about what anyone else would do, but I'd try gently picking him up, or at least carefully nudging to see if he's ok
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Careful now-
1K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
First Meetings
Digimon Adventure 1x01 & 1x32.
413 notes · View notes
pathetichimbos · 6 months
Text
First Meeting - Part One
((part two here))
Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader
---
You've run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.
---
You take another step, the heat of the steaming concrete seeping in through the soles of your shoes, making you cringe. Why you would ever choose to run away in the middle of July in blistering Texas was a mystery to all, and not even you could come up with a plausible excuse.
It's been well over a month since you up and left your home, the overbearing presence of your mother's alcoholism and your step father's compliance becoming too much to handle any longer, even if it meant heading out into the excruciating heat with nothing but the clothes on your back and the bag on your shoulder to your name.
The small amount of cash you spent months saving was slowly beginning to dwindle, the concept of southern hospitality apparently lost to most, given that almost everyone has expected some sort of something in exchange for letting you hitch a ride to a place they were already headed.
You let out a sigh, licking your chapped lips as your dirt stained jeans scrap against your legs with every step, the sun beating down against your shoulders harshly, making you wonder what exactly was keeping you from laying on the grass and giving in to the vultures watching you virtually waste away.
You continue your march forward, the quiet sound of an engine beginning to make its presence known behind you, making you turn to see a truck crossing the horizon.
You slow your pace, thumb sticking out as you watch the truck begin to slow its pace, coming to a stop beside you.
The back passenger door swings open, a young man already moving over to the middle seat as he calls out to you, "Come on in!"
"Thanks." You climb into the truck, shutting the door as the driver begins to pull off.
The truck itself was rather full, two people in the front and now, thanks to you, three in the back.
“Where ya headed?” The driver asks, the truck quickly gaining its speed again.
“Wherever.” You shrug, “Next gas station's fine by me.”
You sigh, the truck's shitty AC feeling like heaven as you lean against the seat, letting your aching body rest for a few moments.
"Can do!" The driver responds in a chipper tone, a mood most of the car's passengers seemed to share.
There were three boys and one girl in total, and over the course of the next few minutes, you learned their names.
Trent was driving, a loud younger man with a kind smile and a lack of smarts. His girlfriend, Katie, seemed to share similar traits, seatbelt forgotten at her side as she turned fully in the passenger seat to look at you while you chatted.
The two boys in the back were Kyle and Jessie, twins who seemed pleasant enough.
The conversation flow stays light and airy as the five of you chat about small things, while you do your best to guide the conversation away from yourself.
“So,” Jesse finally asks, “What are you doing, hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere?”
You shrug, glancing at the empty fields as they zoom past, the overgrown weeds and grass telling you that no one has owned any of this land in quite some time, "…Fresh start. Seeing the world from a new perspective."
“That sounds exciting!” Katie giggles, leaning against her seat as she faces you, her accent giving way that they aren't locals.
“I suppose so. Y'all are from Nebraska, right? What’s got y'all down this way?” You do your best to steer the conversation back to them.
“Trent has some family down this way we’re going to visit for graduation.” Katie smiles.
“Sounds fun.” You return her smile, turning back to the window.
You close your eyes as the rest of them continue talking, enjoying the slight breeze drifting from the front of the truck.
“Oh, look! There’s a gas station that way!” Katie's voice catches your attention as she points out a large red sign that reads:
‘Great BBQ
GAS TIRES CLOTHES’.
You sigh, your stomach clenching at the thought of food. The last people who gave you a ride were kind enough to give you a sandwich, but that was three days ago and your stomach was protesting this unintentional starving.
After a few minutes the truck comes to a stop and the five of you climb out. You stretch for a moment, weighing your options before deciding to head inside the small station, trying to see how far you could make your last few dollars stretch.
It was a dingy old station, for sure. The white paint peeling harshly under the unrelenting sun, the signs worn and tattered from years of exposure, the two measly pumps rusted and seemingly unused for at least a decade.
The four people behind you split up, the twins going to find a restroom while the couple follows you inside.
The inside was just as small as the outside looked, and didn't seem to fare much better. A checkout counter on the right and a deli counter to the left, made a skinny walkway to the small dining area, a few shelves of old products scattered about, none of it looking properly edible but all if it makes your stomach growl painfully.
An older woman stands behind the counter, leaning on it as she speaks to the sheriff on the other side, an older man as well, but not quite as old as her.
“Afternoon, sheriff, ma'am.” You greet them with a polite smile, stepping deeper into the small store.
“Afternoon.” The sheriff tilts his hat, sucking on the tobacco stuck behind his bottom lip before turning back to the woman, who simply gives you a nod in return.
Your eyes wander around the old, tattered building, miscellaneous decorations scattered about the walls,
You thought it to be a miracle that this place was up and running at all, given how desolate the town it resided in seemed to be.
As you look through the old coke cooler shoved in the corner, absent-mindedly listening to the couple make small talk with the sheriff and clerk, a thud echoes on the old, creaking wood, pulling your attention to the back of the store.
You take a few steps to the corner, peaking around it as you look for the source of the noise.
A man stands next to the open back door, stretching in front of a large stack of boxes as if he had just carried them in.
He doesn't pay you any mind as you stare for a few moments longer, not yet noticing you peeking around the corner.
He was tall, taller than most people, with wide shoulders and strong arms to match.
His long black curls hang to his shoulders, seemingly held down by some sort of straps wrapped around his head.
He finally turns, brown eyes catching yours as you realize you're staring. A heat rises to your cheeks as you glance away, feeling a bit embarrassed over being caught. After all, you had been living on the streets for almost two months now, and the dirt embedded in your clothes hid that fact just about as much as the tangles in your dirty hair did.
A low, aggravated huff catches your attention again, pulling you from your embarrassment as you glance back over. With this new angle you could see his face much more clearly, including the dark, seemingly handmade leather mask covering the bottom half of his face and nose.
He glares at the boxes in front of him, intense eyes seemingly annoyed, as if his frustration alone could make them move to the front of the store.
With a newfound sense of confidence, or perhaps foolishness, you take a small step from around the corner, curious eyes watching the stranger in front of you.
Tense, cautious eyes stare back at you as the man furrows his brows, watching you take another step closer.
"Hi…" You give a small smile, leaning back on the heels of your feet, hands wringing behind your back, "…My name's Y/N…"
He looks you up and down, as if trying to decide what to think about you, not saying a word.
Unsure what to do next, you nod towards the boxes, "…Need any help?"
His stare doesn't break, only shifting to one of confusion as he contemplates your question.
…No one ever offered to help him. In fact, most people looked to him for help. So, why the hell were you offering?
A beat of silence passes and you shrug, "I mean, it just seems like a lot for one person to carry, and I've got nothing better to do…" Another beat passes and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake, bothering this poor man and distracting him from his work, "…Not that I don't think you can't handle it or anything, I just thought I'd offer in case it was--"
"Thomas!" A voice stops you in your tracks, causing both of you to look back to the sheriff who was now staring the two of you down, "Have you finished carryin' them boxes in here?"
He shakes his head.
"Then quit your yappin' and get to it!"
Thomas sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly, a weary look on his face as he turns to walk back outside to the sheriff's car parked out back.
"Here, let me…" You offer again, this time grabbing a box off the top of the pile, "It goes to the front counter, right?"
Thomas looks back to you, the confused look still lingering in his eyes as he nods.
You give another small smile over the heavy box, arms straining as you lug it up to the front of the store. The sheriff and clerk pay you no mind as they continue talking with the couple, though the conversation seemed mostly one sided at this point, with the clerk paying more attention to her newly lit cigarette than the couple.
"No, see, that roads been closed for the time bein'." You hear the sheriff explain in his heavy southern accent as you drop the box on the counter behind him, "Kept havin' folks lose bumpers and blow tires and what not on all them damn potholes."
"Is there an another way to get there then?" Trent asks, obvious disappointment in his voice from finding out their planned route was no longer available.
"Well, sure. I can show you the way." He turns back to the clerk, "Hand me that map, Mama.
The rest of the conversation falls into the background as you walk to the back again, picking up another box and seeing Thomas had brought in two more.
You huff a little, pushing the limits of your weakened arms as you try to lift two boxes.
You manage to drag them to the front of the store, this time electing to leave them beside the counter rather than on top with the first one.
"…And after you pass the old meat factory right here, you'll take the second left and hit the highway again." The sheriff's directions fade back into earshot as you huff again, your lack of food leaving your muscles especially weak against the heft of the boxes.
The tingle in your forearms slowly begins to subside as you turn to walk back for another, only to see Thomas carrying the last of the four boxes as if they were made of air.
Your eyes follow him as he sets the boxes on the counter before picking up the two you had left on the floor as well, dropping them next to the others.
You let out a small huff of laughter at his pure strength, watching the originally closed off and curt clerk soften as she thanks Thomas for carrying the boxes for her.
Meanwhile the sheriff waves off the couple, the honk of the truck horn echoing through the thin walls as the twins become impatient with their friends taking too long. The couple thanks him profusely, hurrying out of the store as they rush to join their friends and get back on the road.
The older man watches through the dusty screen door as the group sets off, letting out a low chuckle as he seemingly forgets your existence, "The Lord's lookin' out for us today, Mama. Tell Tommy to get his ass to the house!"
You blink in confusion as the sheriff rushes past the two of you, the clerk quickly yelling after him, “Damnit Hoyt, the boy's right here--”
He ignores her as well, slamming the back door shut before you could hear the loud squeal of spinning tires set off onto the highway.
She huffs from behind the counter, obviously annoyed with the sheriff's antics, “You better head on home, Thomas, Lord knows he'll make it everyone's problem if he makes it there before you do.”
Thomas sighs and nods his head, already heading to the front door.
You watch as he leaves, the creak of the old screen door screeching through the otherwise quiet store.
"You gonna buy somethin' or stand there with an empty head all day?" The clerk asks, pulling you back to reality as she raises an eyebrow through her thick glasses.
You blink for a second, "Oh, uh, yes ma'am."
You turn back to the small selection, grabbing a couple of snacks and a bottle of water from the cooler,
You set them on the counter, digging through your bag and pulling out a couple of ones.
"Ain't got no change." She takes the crumbled bills, smoothing them out as she opens her register.
"That's fine…" You sigh, deciding losing a few extra coins was worth it to get some food in your system.
She shuts the metal drawer with a bit of force as you thank her, shoving everything into your bag before flinging it over your shoulder and heading out into the Texas heat once again.
373 notes · View notes