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#i miss working retail sometimes
honeyroastedpeanus · 5 months
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ive been reading the discworld witches series its so good
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nillial · 9 months
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thinking about when i was working at lowes and i helped an old man load something into his car and when he opened the boot a chihuahua popped out and he was like "ohhh that's scoobert .... get back there scoobert" meanwhile scoobert was running in circle over the folded seats . i was so fucking delighted i was basically giggling and cheering and clapping my hands and he told me that earlier in the week scoobert jumped out of the car and ran into the kroger and he had to chase him down . i miss scoobert
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malewifespike · 1 day
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reading back old posts on here from when I was a teenager is like. I was so normal what the fuck happened to me
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sometimesanalice · 1 year
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Like I Can (Part 3)
Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight angst. Minors DNI
Length: 7.2K
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader
Part 1 | Part 2
(All’s well that ends well❣️ Enjoy!)
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You’d been on edge all day. 
Having slept terribly the night before, you’d woken up early and giving up on the idea of going back to sleep had ended up at a sunrise yoga class, hoping that some movement would help you clear your mind. By the end of the hour you were even more frustrated than you were before you arrived, the poses feeling unnaturally forced instead of flowing seamlessly as they usually did. 
So much for some goddamn inner peace.
Work was even worse. You had arrived to find that the espresso machine was broken. And whoever made a pot on the ancient drip machine, that was undoubtedly pulled out of a dingy storage closet somewhere, clearly hated everyone else since it tasted like tar. You could barely focus enough to clear out your inbox, when your work nemesis started breathing down your neck about a proposal that wasn’t due for another two weeks. 
Time was dragging on. And every time you looked at the clock thinking it had been at least an hour since you’d last checked, were continually shocked to see that barely fifteen minutes had passed by. Thankfully it was Friday, so your boss didn’t care when you called it a day and left at lunch. It was better for everyone this way.
You had tried painting your nails, but didn’t have the patience to let them dry and smudged them trying to open a package of crackers. Ignoring the crumbs that got everywhere as you ate them while working the cotton pad over the remnants of your pretty pink polish. Your new favorite show didn’t hold your attention like it usually did and you found yourself mindlessly scrolling on your phone, missing most of the plot you’d had to restart it. Twice.
Not even the scenic drive along the coast to the restaurant you were supposed to meet your date at had done anything to alleviate your nerves.
You had been surprised at the choice of location when you had received the text message with the information about this particular date. As much as you enjoyed going to the Hard Deck, you were very much looking forward to drinking something other than a beer. Sure, Penny could make a mean spicy margarita, but sometimes an overpriced aesthetically pleasing cocktail just hit the spot better than anything else. 
But most of all, you were thankful for a change of pace and the privacy this offered you. You had never been one for the spotlight, and dating on display had left you feeling drained.
You’re sitting in a surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker dining chair on the outdoor patio of the new trendy fusion restaurant you’ve been dying to come to. From your spot tucked away in the corner you can see the ocean waves rolling in and back out again. The golden rays already promising a stunning sunset later in the evening.
The foliage of the giant potted monsteras and birds of paradise made the terrace feel like a lush oasis, and contrasted stylishly against the large painted terracotta tiles on the ground. The pergola that covered it was dotted wisteria amongst the other climbing greenery, and numerous oversized hanging rattan sconces. The dainty lights woven throughout reflecting off the wine glasses on the table.
This was exactly what you needed. Too bad you couldn’t let yourself enjoy it, the twisted knots in the pit of your stomach had served a constant reminder of your nerves all day.
You had used this date as an excuse to finally buy the deep green floral dress you’d had your eye on for ages. The gentle drape of the neck was subtly sophisticated, while the high slit on the side added some serious sex appeal. 
There was nothing wrong with a little retail therapy you had told yourself as you’d swiped your credit card. If you looked good, maybe it would help you to feel good.
In all honesty, it probably had a little too much sex appeal since you couldn’t stop fidgeting in your chair trying to get the silky dress cover up more of your thigh that was currently displayed rather provocatively. It felt like the more you tried to get it to lay right the more of your leg was exposed. 
It probably didn’t help that you couldn’t stop the restless bouncing of your leg. You weren’t usually an antsy person, leg bouncing had always been more of Rooster’s anxious habit than yours.
Maybe you’ll feel less exposed once you draped the linen napkin across your lap. You’re tempted to do it now, but you don’t want to disturb the artfully laid out tablescape before your date has arrived.
It had been three weeks of back to back truly terrible dates. You could see the finish line now, but you couldn’t say that it wasn’t wearing on you. It had sounded like fun in theory, but now you weren’t so sure you would said yes again if you were offered a do-over. 
You were tired. 
Tired of going through the motions with men who could hardly be bothered to do the bare minimum. Tired of trying to sell the best version of yourself. Tired of putting on a show when all you wanted to find was an easy kind of love.
And this particular date had you more on edge and anxious than any of the other ones you’d gone on.
Even if you were pressed, you could not remember a single thing about the guy Payback had set you up with on your most recent blind date.
That evening you hadn’t even bothered trying to put together a cute outfit for the meeting. Instead, the only real effort you’d opted to put in was painting your lips a bright red as an attempt to psych yourself up for it. You didn’t usually wear such a bold color, but when you did it never failed to make you feel more brilliant.
And while you couldn’t remember anything about your date, what you did vividly remember was the fight you got into with Rooster that night.
You had been coming back from the restroom and on your way back to your date when you had bumped into him rounding the corner. 
“Sorry, that was my fault,” he’d said as he reached out to steady you with hand going to your waist, dropping it once he realized it was you. “Oh, hey.”
Glancing over to your date who seemed absorbed in some game he was playing on his phone, you figured he wouldn’t miss you if you spent a few extra minutes away to catch up with Rooster.
He had been acting really distant lately, taking a couple days to respond to texts rather than a couple of hours like it usually took him. Natasha had told you about the rigorous training they were being put though, and you had assumed it probably had something to do with that. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between you two.
Rooster was already pulling away from you and taking a step towards the bar when you reached out grabbing his wrist to keep him with you. Looking around for a quiet place to talk, you’d heard him sigh behind you, but still held on to him as you made your way to one of the high-top tables in the corner by the empty stage. 
You’d stopped and let go as you turned towards him, only to find him already looking at you with an expression that landed somewhere between expectant and exasperated. The cuffs of his shirt straining around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. 
“Well?” he grunted out.
Was he mad at you? You couldn’t think of any recent arguments you’d had recently that would explain the harsh tone he was using with you. 
“Is everything ok? I feel like you’ve been really off lately. You know I’m always here for you, right?” Your hand was already reaching out to touch him, but you resisted the urge not wanting to further agitate him.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m surprised you even have time to talk to me with all these washouts you’ve been wasting your time on. You’re the one with the busy social calendar, not me.” He was looking over the top of your head avoiding your gaze now, the bitterness in his voice had stunned you. 
“Seriously? What is the matter with you?” 
He’d never been so intentionally callous with you before and it hurt. 
“Listen, if there is an issue me dating the people your friends have been setting me up with, you need to let me know,” you’d said pointing a firm finger at him, your anger rising. “This was supposed to be a fun no pressure situation, but I don’t want to be in the middle of this if things are getting heated between you guys. It’s not worth it to me. But you don’t get to ignore me for days and then claim that I’m the one avoiding you.”
He made a noise of frustration as he dragged both hands through his curls. You could see the flex of his jaw as he’d clenched his teeth together.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he ducked down to that his eyes were level with your, and you could see the remorse in them. “You’re right, that was shitty of me to take it out on you. I’m just… tired.”
You’d simply nodded at him, feeling like you weren’t on the same page as him didn’t sit well with you. “Phoenix told me about your new training program, it seems intense,” your voice sounded small even to your own ears.
“Yeah, the training,” he’d sighed out pausing for a moment as he weighed his words, rubbing at his chest, “It’s taking a toll on me, but that’s my problem. I mean it, I’m sorry.”
“Are we good?” you searched his eyes, your friendship with him was so important to you.
“You and me? We’re good, kid. Always.” He’d reached out and squeezed your shoulder before heading back to where the group was gathered together pretending like they weren’t just watching your argument play out. 
Needless to say, your head was somewhere elsewhere entirely as you made your way back to your date. You’d felt bad being so distracted, but your mind just kept playing the argument on repeat. It was like your brain was trying to pull apart every little word to decode something that you didn’t think was there.
After Payback’s friend had left, you rejoined everyone else around the pool table. You couldn’t tell if the mood was off or if it was just you reading into things, since they hadn’t been prodding you with questions like they usually did.
Natasha was in the middle of giving you a glowing review of the man she had been bragging about since she first offered to set you up, when Rooster came to sit with you both.
“He’s just your type. He’s an engineer, so he’s smart. He’s got that whole glasses wearing and floppy hair thing going for him. And he’s funny. Rumor has it that he talked back to his Rear Admiral one time and got away with it because the guy had found him amusing. I fully expect you to name one of your future children with him after me.”
Rooster had surprised the pair of you when he stood up so violently that he almost knocked over the beers on the table. 
“What the fuck, Bradshaw?” Nat had exclaimed as you both worked to rescue the teetering bottles from becoming casualties from his sudden movement.
You had no idea what he was going to say as an explanation for why he’d jumped out of his seat the way he did, but what he ended up unexpectedly announcing instead of answering Nat’s question had sent you into a tailspin.
So now here you are in a restaurant you’d be dying to go to, fidgety and anxious in a probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative dress for a first date with the guy who Rooster was willing to break his long-standing rules for to set you up with.
To say you were feeling the pressure was an understatement. No one knew you like Rooster did. He’d seen you at your best and at your worst. He wouldn’t just pick any random guy he knew, he would be picking the one who he thought would be the best for you.
The thought should be comforting, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness.
You pick up your phone again and double check the time in the text that Rooster had sent you with all the details for your date with his friend. 
It was either that do that again or moving the ever-so-slightly crooked gold salad fork back into place.
You’re about to open Instagram for the third time since you sat down, turning when you hear a throat clear purposely behind you.
“Hey, sweet girl.”
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For Rooster, when you’d first agreed to participate in the bet with his friends those dates started off as annoying inconveniences. Just inconsequential disruptions that got in the way of his time with you.
You were his best friend and at his bar, yet he felt like he’d hardly seen you these past couple of weeks- or at least not as much as he would have liked. 
Sure, he got some time with you here and there at the end of the night like when you had late night tacos on the beach. Or when he’d taught you his favorite pool trick, well more like attempted to teach you, he loved how stunningly bad you were at the game. But he felt like he was competing with these idiots his friends had picked out for your time and your attention. 
He wasn’t used to sharing you. In the past, if you had a date that conflicted with something spontaneous he wanted to do or something that the group had planned together, more often than not he could get you to move it or cancel completely.
He’d never been above a little bribery to get his way, he knew what you liked.
You going on dates wasn’t a new concept to him, but seeing them paraded in front of him was a different story. And he was getting really tired of watching you from across the bar while feeling like you were out of reach.
The more of them you went on, and the more he heard Natasha crowing about having the perfect man for you the more agitated he felt. The worse that feeling in the pit of his stomach got. 
The evening of date for Payback’s pick, they’d all seen you walk in through the doors of the Hard Deck wearing that shade of red lipstick. You’d wore it so well. His friends had immediately started speculating about what it meant. Phoenix had called them all idiots, and while he couldn’t claim to know anything about make-up and those things, he did know you didn’t just wear that color for no reason. 
He had vague memories of his mom putting the color on when they’d go greet his dad, at least he like to think those were his memories. Or maybe they were just something he’d created in his head from all the time he had spent looking at old photos of his mom and dad together, her smile always outlined in the color. His favorite was the one where his dad’s cheeks were covered in bright red lipstick kisses as he smiled indulgently down at his mom while a young Bradley was propped on her hip clutching his prized F-14 Tomcat. He had that one framed on the end table next to his couch. 
And seeing that color on you for a date with this random guy had rattled him.
He’d felt so terrible later that evening when he took those feelings out on you. Hating himself as he lashed out at you. Hating himself as he saw your face fall and the hurt in your eyes. Hating himself for being the person who made you feel bad.
And the crux of it all was that you weren’t wrong, he had been deliberately distant by being slow to reply and ignoring texts from you. He wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d hoped by creating some space that it would help him to try and get his head back on straight. 
He’d let you assume that he was tired from the new training program they were being put through. What he didn’t tell you was that he was already outperforming everyone on the team, and that he hadn’t had to do any extra push-ups in a week and a half. 
He was tired because he hadn’t been sleeping, and he couldn’t sleep because every time he tried to close his eyes all he could see was you on these dates. Replaying them in his mind’s eye wondering what the outcome would have been had they not gone so terribly wrong each time.
The what-ifs swarming around his brain day and night like agitated hornets.
While he had been quick to apologize for being a dick, the sharp pain that settled behind his sternum wouldn’t subside no matter how much he had tried to rub it away.
He didn’t know what was more unbearable, the idea of losing you to a chance encounter of circumstance. Some meet cute courtesy of the universe that he couldn’t see coming until it was too late, when it’s already too far out of his hands and out of his control. To see you grinning that smile so bright, the one so wide it made your dimples appear, as you introduced that guy to him. 
Or sitting here night after night analyzing every little thing as you date the people some of his closest friends had picked out for you. Watching and hoping that these dates would just be funny stories you told on drunken nights out rather than the story told at your wedding about the night that everything changed when you met your person. Of having to be happy for you even as you pull away from him.
His ears were ringing and he’d felt his stomach drop. 
He could see it now, a day when your life ran parallel to his rather than entwined as he was used to. Of you with a partner. With children. Of him as ‘Uncle’ Rooster, demoted to the rank of ‘longtime friend of the family’ rather than a core member of it. 
The thought of it making him feel sick. 
All evening he had been moving around like a ghost completely lost to the thoughts in his head, but now it felt like he’d been shocked by a live wire. He’d pretty much jumped out of the chair he had just settled in, almost knocking the beers in front of him off the table completely. 
“I want in, I’ll do it,” he’d blurted out, interrupting the conversations that had continued on around him while he had been spiraling. “This whole thing has been a complete shit show. I can’t watch this anymore. I know a guy, I’ll set it up. I’m in.” 
His hands were sweating as he hoped no one would call his bluff. He’d made it a point to actively avoid looking at you. You had such an uncanny way of reading him. 
“I don’t know, Bradshaw. You’re a little late to the game, aren’t you? I’ve been saving the best for last, and I’m ready to collect my winnings.” He’d expected some shit from Hangman, but he never would have guessed it’d come from Phoenix. 
Feeling his anger flare up, he reached into his back pocket and fished out a $100 bill from his worn leather wallet, double the original entry fee. He slapped it down on the table, leaving no room for any further discussion, “I’m the one setting her up for the next date.” 
He’d caught a look between Hangman and Phoenix, but he couldn’t be bothered to read into it as he tried to keep his temper in check.  
He wouldn’t lose you. Not to someone who didn’t deserve you, especially when he already knew the person who could make you happy.
“Alrighty,” Jake had drawled out, as he pocked the bill. “Looks like we have another player. I look forward to taking your money.” 
He’d extended his hand out and they’d all shook on it, reaching Phoenix last her grip firm and her smile sharp. And that was that. 
Now he was here at the new popular restaurant he’d heard you talking about a few weeks ago, his feet cemented to the tiles beneath him just gazing at you. 
He could tell from where he was standing behind you that you were nervous by the way you were opening and closing apps without truly looking at anything. He knew it was a habit of yours when you were feeling anxious, something for your hands to do as you tried to distract yourself.
He had sweet talked the hostess over the phone into reserving the best spot on the outdoor terrace, and you looked so beautiful sitting there wearing his new favorite color. Your hair is held back by a delicate golden clip on one side leaving the line of your neck exposed, the sea breeze picking up a few wisps.  It makes his teeth ache with want.
He knew you were gorgeous, he’d stared down enough men at the Hard Deck to know that others thought so too. However, he’d never let himself sit with those thoughts for too long, not trusting himself to keep his mind from wandering. 
You were his best friend. 
And best friends don’t think about how the other would look so perfect in their bed, that pretty green dress forgotten on the floor. 
Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look under his arm.
Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look with his ring on your finger.
Best friends don’t think about how perfect you are for him.
Best friends don’t think about how perfect he is for you.
Him.
It was a good thing he didn’t want to just be your best friend anymore. 
He’d already done too much thinking, done too much waiting. He wasn’t going to miss his moment. 
Taking one more deep breath, he made his way to you.
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“Rooster? What are you doing here?” He was the last person you’d expected to see when you turned your head to see who had been trying to get your attention, “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”
Did he get emergency orders? Did your date get in an accident? 
Your anxiousness was quickly morphing into panic, you’re already half way out of your seat when he puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb stroking the skin there reassuringly. 
He is standing there looking completely at ease, as if he belonged there, “Nothing’s wrong, sweet girl.” 
And there it was again, you hadn’t been sure if your ears were playing tricks on you the first time he’d said it. That simple term of endearment silencing the alarm bells that were going off in your head, the edges of the lush restaurant softening around everything except him.
“Your mom always called me that,” you say softly. 
You cherished all the memories you had with Carole, the woman who had been such a significant figure in your life for so long. You knew your mom still sent Rooster a cake every year to celebrate her birthday from whatever bakery was closest to wherever he was stationed. 
“I know, I remember,” his voice so warm and deep, “She loved you.” 
He says it so simply, so sincerely. As if his presence here hasn’t just completely untethered you and sent you adrift in a sea of bewilderment.
The writhing snake that had made a home all day in the pit of your stomach finally disappeared, only to be replaced with the fluttering of wings that you were desperately trying to ignore. 
You’d been so shocked when Rooster had exclaimed that he was going to set you up with someone, your mind had been whirling so much at the time you could barely focus on anything that had been said in the aftermath of his announcement. Maybe you had missed some caveat he’d come up with for his participation in the bet? That could make sense, considering how adamant he had always been in the past about never getting involved in your love life. 
He was standing there looking so good in his best short-sleeved button up shirt, the one that was scattered with vibrant palm leaves that fit snugly against his body. And wearing the white slacks that usually had you looking anywhere else in the room to avoid acknowledging the way they clung to your best friend’s thighs and ass. If only he knew how weak they made you. 
There just has to be a logical reason for why he’s here, but the soft smile on his face was rendering your brain uncooperative. 
You were getting tired of feeling like you were missing something that should be so obvious, “My date is supposed to be here soon, are you going to hover in the back like you have been at the Hard Deck? Or are you just planning on pulling up a chair and third wheeling up close and personal?” 
“Why would I need an extra chair,” he asks as he pulls it out and eases his large frame down onto the wicker seat, “When mine’s already free?” 
You move to open your mouth when the waitress arrives, asking if you had your drink orders selected. 
“I’ll do the Bourbon Sidecar. You feelin’ like a gin, sweet girl?” You just nodded at him mutely, still desperately trying to catch up. “And the Clover Club for her, please.” 
It’s what you were planning on ordering to calm your first date jitters before had Rooster arrived and sent you into a complete tailspin. He hadn’t even looked at the thick textured cardstock of the drink menus that were strategically placed just to the right of the golden soup spoons on the artfully laid out table. 
The butterflies were threatening to break free from the tightly locked cage you had attempted to shove them in. 
The waitress took down the drinks, and you watched her as she crossed the patio pausing to tap away on the screen of their POS, trying to give yourself a few more moments to collect your thoughts. 
“Bradley. I don’t understand, what’s going on?” He’s sitting there looking so secure, so steadfast, so sure. 
His cheek ticks up, “I like it when you call me Bradley. Why did you stop calling me that when you moved out here?” 
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Why did you stop calling me Bradley when you moved out here?” he asks again, leaning in. How does he expect you to answer a question, when your mind is going 1,190 miles an hour? 
“I don’t know,” you start with a halfhearted shrug. “You’ve made a name for yourself in the Navy, you are ‘Rooster’ to everyone here.” You open your mouth to say more, before closing it quickly.
“There’s more going on in that head,” you feel his foot reach out tapping against yours under the table, before leaving it there a steady presence. “Tell me.”
You know you can tell him anything, but this feels different.
The intensity of his stare has you fighting the flush you feel spreading across your cheeks.
It wasn’t something that you’d ever given much thought to before, but you know if you answer truthfully now that he’s asked you it’s going to leave you feeling more exposed than you’ve ever been with him. 
You sit up more fully in your chair deciding to be brave, “I mean, we haven’t really truly been in the same place since we were teens, and things are so different now. It was easier to start calling you ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ like everyone else, because it didn’t make me feel like I was piece from a different puzzle trying to force myself into a new picture. I wanted to fit into the life that you’ve built here, to feel like I still have a place with you as you are now.”
You’re actively fighting to keep your eyes on his. It would be so easy to look away or to laugh off your confession, but for whatever reason, you don’t want to take the easy out. 
“I never knew you felt like that, but I wish I had,” the look in his eyes is softer than anything you’ve ever seen from him before. “I like being Bradley to you, I want to be Bradley to you. You aren’t just a piece to me, you’re the whole picture. You’ve always had a place here, exactly as you are you are now.”
It’s never been like this between the two of you. It feels like you both are saying too much and not enough all at the same time. As much as you find yourself wanting to sink into these intoxicating yet unfamiliar feelings, you know you’re still holding yourself back.
God, he is so handsome. You had been right, the sunset that was just starting was stunning, but the way golden beams were hitting the lightened strands of his curls was spectacular.
You’re almost too afraid to ask, but it’s unbearable not knowing, “Why are you here right now, Bradley?”
Of course, the waitress chooses that moment to return with the drinks. 
She sets them down in front of you, the skewered raspberries sitting daintily on the side of your glass are suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room. You vaguely hear him saying you both need more time and that he’ll flag her down when you’re ready to order. 
He waits for her to leave to attend to her other tables before turning his heady gaze on you once again.
“I thought I’ve been making my intentions pretty clear here, sweet girl.” 
He takes a sip of his Sidecar before continuing, the slight bounce of his leg the only thing giving him away that he might not be as self-assured as you’d originally thought, “I’m here for our date.”
There’s no hope of containing the butterflies now. You’re a lost cause. 
“Bradley.” You can only imagine the emotions he is reading on your face. It would absolutely break your heart if this was some kind of bad joke.
“He’ll never love you like I can.” 
“What?” you ask sounding every bit as dazed as you feel.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says shaking his head slightly, huffing out a little laugh at himself, “I got ahead of myself.”
You watch as he resituates himself in the chair, wiping his hands on the front of his slacks before restarting. 
“Watching you on those dates has been hell, I don’t want to be jealous of some guy you gave a second glance. I don’t want hold back, not when we can be so much more,” he reaches across the table, taking your hand between his two large ones, “I thought having you as a friend was enough for me, but how am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that I could be the one who makes you happy and then do nothing about it? That I’m the only one who can love you the way you deserve to be loved?”
You’ve always known he’s cared for you, that was unquestionable, but to be loved by Bradley Bradshaw? It was something you’d never let yourself imagine, let alone dared to hope to for. It had been kinder to spare yourself from the heartache that came with hope. But now? With him sitting right here in front of you saying you could have him like this?
Was this how he felt flying in his F-18 every day?
He gets up and rounds the table coming to your side, hooking an ankle around the tapered leg of your chair pulling you out a bit. You’re suddenly very thankful for the probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative for a first date dress you purchased when you see the way his rich brown eyes turn molten as he gets a glimpse of your exposed thigh.
He settles into a crouch before you, his warm hands seeking out both of yours, “You don’t need Phoenix or anyone else to set you up, because he’ll never love you like I can. Let me show you how good it can be. Let me be it for you, sweet girl.”
The man in front of you is everything you could have ever possibly wanted for yourself. And to be the one who could get to keep him forever? There’s no doubt in your mind, it’s worth everything.
You’re sure you will have to have a more serious conversation about what this means for the two of you, but that can wait for another time when he’s not in front of you with his eyes so earnest. So hopeful. To another time when he’s not wearing his heart on his sleeve as he patiently waits for any kind of response from you.
It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now. 
So easy to learn what that mustache would feel like against your skin. 
To learn how his lips and tongue would feel against your own. 
To learn how his mouth would move with yours.
But what’s a couple more hours when you’ve had years to build up to it.
“Well then, Lieutenant. I guess you better show me how it’s done,” you bring your hand up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking along his cheekbone. “But I’m warning you now, I fully intended to give you as good as I get.” 
Being on the receiving end of a Rooster smile was something special, but it had nothing on the beaming grin that Bradley Bradshaw is giving you now. 
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” he says as he lands a lingering kiss on your cheek before standing and pushing your chair back in for you. “You’ve always known how to keep me on my toes.”
He returns back to his surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker chair, stretching his leg to rest it against yours. When the waitress comes back you both end up picking your meals at random, having been too absorbed with each other to actually bother reading the menu. 
You’d barely eaten all day because of the knots in your stomach, and now you were starving. Thankfully, Bradley at least had the commonsense to ask the waitress to pick her favorite dish as a third entrée “for the table”.
It feels the same in many ways, he knows what to say to make you laugh and what to bring up to get you fired up. And you know what questions to ask to keep him talking and how to push his buttons just right. 
But it’s also different when he doesn’t bother to hide his knowing smirk every time he catches you looking at his lips. And it’s even better when you don’t bother trying to hide yours when you catch him doing the same.
Afterwards, he takes your hand in his as you slowly make your way to the parking lot, his fingers lacing between your own. He surprises you when he leans against the Bronco, murmuring something about not wanting to let your pretty dress get dirty. His long legs extended wide as an invitation for you to come stand between them, his strong hands stroking the silky material of your dress on your hips as you step closer. 
You’ve been ignoring the pull low in your stomach all evening, the tension between you two the most luscious feeling you’ve ever experienced. The combination of his heat, his woodsy smell, the headiness of his gaze on you almost too overwhelming. 
Almost.
Your hands settle on his broad chest, playing with the button of his shirt now a bit nervous. Your faces closer than you’ve ever allowed them to be before. If what you’re hearing is the sound of the waves or the roaring of the blood in your ears, you couldn’t say.
You know he is waiting for you to make the first move. You see the moment when he’s about to say something, knowing him the words would be wonderfully reassuring and perfectly Bradley.
Why would you want to talk when his mouth was already waiting like a question. Why would you want to talk when you could learn what it’s like kiss him instead?
So you do.
When your lips meet his for the first time it feels like the sweetest kind of devotion. 
bradleybradleybradley
His mustache scratching satisfyingly at the skin of your upper lip. His mouth tasting like the Sidecars he sipped on throughout the night and something that was just fundamentally Bradley. 
Your hand moves on its own to stroke the side of his neck, your fingers seeking out the line of the longest scar that adorns his skin there from that night all those years ago. 
Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as he licks his lips before bringing his face down to yours again. Your other hand tightly clutching his shirt in anticipation.
He’s always been so in tune with you, so when he tilts your head just right before leaning into the kiss it feels like a homecoming. 
thisthisthis
One of Bradley’s hands makes its way up your back, pressing you closer to him as the other bands more securely around your waist. And when his tongue skims your lower lip, you sigh into his waiting mouth thankful for his strong grasp on you. 
Nothing your mind could have imagined would have ever come close to the perfection that is Bradley Bradshaw’s mouth moving against yours. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right.
When he pulls away, you’re both over fighting back the smiles that feel like have been permanently fixed on your faces all evening.
“I’m don’t want to call it a night yet,” he tells you, as he brushes the hair back from your face. His smile turning playful, “What do you say, kid? Wanna go get some milkshakes?”
“Depends,” you reply cheekily, “Can I drink it in the Bronco?”
Wrapping both arms around his neck you draw him back in towards you again.
“Anything you want, sweet girl,” he promises against your lips.
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The next night at the Hard Deck, you entered the bar with Bradley’s arm draped your shoulders. 
His team whooping loudly when you pull him in for a kiss as he handed you a Blue Moon. They’d declared the drinks were on Bradley that night as they’d swarmed you both in celebration. Maverick pulls you aside to give you a warm hug, whispering “I knew you’d get here” in your ear before releasing you.
Now that you had let yourselves cross that line from friends to more, the pair of you are entirely too aware of the other. Never content to be too far away from the other. Your eyes like magnets, each seeking out the other to find them already looking back.
There’s nothing friendly about the way he has his hands on your waist. Nothing neighborly in the way his hands rub your shoulders. Nothing platonic in the way he rests one hand on the back of your neck, his thumb making teasing circles.
And there’s nothing friendly about the way you run your hands through his curls when he’s at the piano. Nothing neighborly in the way you slide your hand into his back pocket. Nothing platonic in the way you rest your hand on his chest, your finger tracing the line of his collarbone. 
It has always been so easy with him, even as you explore in this new area of your relationship.
You’d been orbiting around each other all night, when Jake yelled out to heckle you both about indecent exposure, threatening to call his cop friend if Bradley didn’t “get his ass over to the pool table in the next thirty seconds.”
He’d peppered your face with kisses before you’d shooed him away, laughing when you realized he had swiped your beer and had taken it with him.
“So you and Bradshaw,” Natasha states as she settles down next to you.
That makes you smile.
“Yeah, me and Bradley.” 
How could you have possibly thought you’d want anyone else other than him? You were a goner from the moment you’d turned and saw him standing there at the restaurant. Your golden boy.
You turn towards her, putting a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry that you didn’t get a fair shot at the bet. I really do appreciate the effort you all went through. I mean, Bradley would have had it in the bag anyways. But still–”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waves a hand, cutting you off, “We had a team meeting and changed the rules of the bet anyways. I still won, so it’s all good.” Her smile was nothing less than mischievous. 
“Wait, what?” 
“We could all see from Rooster’s reaction during that disaster of a first date with all the dogs that he was completely hung up on you. We didn’t want to wait for him to figure it out, so we decided to adjust the terms a bit to help him out,” she laughs at your clearly baffled expression. “We reached out to the cringiest people we knew and set you up with them instead. And then took bets on how long it would take Rooster to get his head out of his ass and go get his girl.”
“Oh my god, seriously?” The revelation has you bursting out in laughter.
“Yep, well except for Bob. His date was a genuine accident, bless him. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even bother reaching out to anyone. I was betting on Rooster getting it together before I needed to step in,” she explains while wearing the most self-satisfied smirk on her face.
Of course Natasha Trace had bet on him. On you.
You couldn’t wait to tell Bradley how you had both been so absolutely played by his team. 
You loved these people. You loved your life here in San Diego. 
“I’d apologize for putting you through all that, but it looks like it worked out well in the end,” she says knowingly nodding her head towards him. 
You’re fully watching him now as he bends over the pool table looking amused at something that Hangman says. 
Bradley looks up catching your eye and shoots a wink in your direction, a grin taking over his whole face. You already know you’re wearing a matching one.
“I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
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Thank you so much for all the love on this one! I’ve loved sharing this journey with you all! Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone! 
If you want to know what happens next for these two you can check out my masterlist! 
Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge!
Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.
Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) as always for being the ultimate hype girl! 
Taglist:
@sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks @artemissunn​ @hey-assbutt35​ @mayempress​ @eddiemunsonreader @averyhotchner​ @caatheeriinee07​ @rileyanntoinette​ @lublycho
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cosmicstarlatte · 9 months
Text
Coffee Shop (Obey Me!)
━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━
You start a new job at a coffee shop in a popular plaza. You can't help but look forward to a certain regular. ♡
»Characters: Demon Bros + Dia + Barb
»Tags: Fluff, Bulleted Style, GN Reader, LeviLeviLevi-
»Notes: lol when was the last time I made a bulleted fic that wasn't a shitpost???🤯 Just simple short fluff lol, reblogs are appreciated + motivating ♡
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Lucifer:
Always orders a cafe con leche every morning
Keeps interactions short but you learned his name
Always so serious but he does look like a business man
A very very handsome business man cough
After working there for a little bit he admits he likes the way you make his drink & hates when you guys miss each other on days off
One day he comes in normal clothes & you got caught off guard when he made it to the register
"It's my day off but I was craving my usual. I'm glad to see you're here."
Pleaseee you gotta be blushing right now alalfkfldk
You notice the record store bag he's holding & start a fun conversation while its slow
It does get busier & unfortunately have to cut the conversation to both your disappointments
"We can continue this later...maybe over dinner if you're available?"
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Mammon:
Usually gets an icy blended drink, the flavor changes frequently
You see him every other day, it looks like he works at a retail store in the plaza
You thought he was cute & funny despite how loud he could be
One day he defends you against a really rude customer
You say your thank yous & give him his drink for free that day
"Yeah I guess I am a hero. Heroes get free drinks all the time though, ya?"
You couldn't help but laugh & accidentally let slip "you're really cute!"
He starts choking on his drink, stuttering & blushing
He goes silent for a moment before asking, "whaddaya say to a date one of these days?"
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Levi:
Usually orders sweet drinks & likes trying seasonal/limited time things
You've seen him at his job at the anime store in the plaza, since you visit there sometimes
You two are on friendly terms even though he can be awkward
You think he's very cute though, especially when he talks about his passions
You felt like you two were dancing around eachother so you decide to make a move
You drew a Gundam robot on his drink & wrote 'Gun-DAM you're cute!'
You nervously handed the drink & he took it without noticing the drawing on it
You watched as he left the shop,took another sip, then stop as he looked at his drink
You could see he was happily freaking out but then abruptly stop
He looked back to the shop & you waved a shy hello
He ran back inside to make sure, "S-sorry is this a mistake? W-was this for someone else??"
"Look on the bottom"
He raised the cup & looked under
Levi, AkuCon this weekend?
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Satan:
Usually orders a simple cappuccino but will add a flavored syrup occasionally
Comes in often on his breaks
You've seen him working at the bookstore in the plaza
He looks like a simple guy yet very charming
You always notice a book on him & one day you decide to ask what he's reading
You learn you read the same things & start having fun conversations every time he stops by
Eventually he asks you if you'd be able to give your thoughts on his writing
"Sure, I'd be happy to read it if you bring it!"
He gave you a flirty smile
"Actually I was thinking maybe we could hang out...like somewhere that's not here?"
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Asmo:
Always orders an iced vanilla oat milk latte
You see him every few days, really friendly customer that loves to chat & you become friends quick even though you want more
You find out he works at a nearby agency & is an up & coming model
You felt a little intimidated, he could be really famous one day!
Nevertheless you treat him just the same even as those around him changed, he lets you know how grateful he is
One day he comes in upset & tells you the agency is moving across town to a bigger location so he won't be able to see you there anymore
At the same time both of you blurt out
"I still wanna see you!"
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Beel:
You never know with this guy
He works in the sports store across from the cafe
He's always indecisive with the menu & one day just tells you to make whatever
You're his fave barista, he thinks you make the best drinks either way
Doesn't realize he just likes everything & has a crush on you
You can't help but get excited when he looks excited to see you golden retriever energy
You find out he's a foodie type & you guys talk about the local spots around town
"Would you like to check out the new sandwich store that opened a few doors down? Uh...like, maybe a date?"
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Belphie:
Usually orders a hot regular latte but occasionally orders hot chocolate
He appears to be a student as he comes in often to study & always looks tired
One day on your break you decide to chat him up & offer help on the subject he was struggling with
He thought you were cute & was thankful for your help
After a few weeks of tutoring (+some heavy flirting), he passed his exam flawlessly
"Actually can you help me with one other thing?"
"Yeah, what?"
"Would you like to go on a date sometime?"
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Diavolo:
Has a new favorite every week but really likes lattes/teas
You can tell he's important with his assistant present
You wonder why the assistant doesnt just get his order though
Anyway hes hot really friendly & chatty & can tell a few good jokes, you appreciate them!
He always seems reluctant to leave the shop which makes your heart flip
Always leaves a big tip! ... I want him to give me a big tip 😔
The two of you find out you have a lot more in common than you thought
One day he admits that these coffee runs are the things he looks forward to the most since his day is usually very busy & doesn't get much else normalcy
He lets slip that it's mainly seeing you that adds to his joy so he goes all in
"If you're interested, care to join me for dinner this weekend?"
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Barbatos:
Always large orders of a few different drinks (part of his job)
Though you notice he always orders tea for himself & likes to buy different tea blends
He's a very (cute) polite customer, one of the few
You two usually chat as you make his large order & you can't help but fall for him
Knowing he loves to buy limited release tea blends, you usually save him one before the cafe sells out
You never tell anyone about it but:
"I appreciate you always saving me one."
"Oh? How did you know!?"
"I have a friend who stopped by earlier & said it was one of those times they missed out. Yet, there always appears to be one for me even after sell-out. Thank you kindly."
You blush at being found out, "seems I've been caught!"
He chuckles & gives you another shock:
"I've been meaning to ask...will you allow me to take you out one of these days?"
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⬦You might also like: Customer Service︱Devil-Mart ⭐️︱You Are The Father︱MC feeling Insecure
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pastanest · 2 months
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Spencer Reid x gn!reader
A/N: forgive me for posting another blurb x
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Between The Lines
That morning, you rush into the office only slightly later than usual; Spencer is the first to greet you, as always. A warm smile is stretching across his face the second he sees you, and it only widens when his eyes briefly trail down your form and back up to yours.
“Ah, finally cold enough to wear my favorite jacket?” He jokes cheekily, referencing the jacket that he has seen you wear more times than you can count. Spencer has kept count - it’s 94.
“You know it!” You answer with an amused chuckle, completely under the spell of Spencer and his charms as you approach your desk.
“Hypothetically, if someone were to buy you a new jacket-” Spencer pointedly looks towards a hole that has formed in one of the pockets, “-would you part with this one?”
It is an inside joke between the two of you, how often you wear this jacket. It was the jacket you were wearing on your very first day, and Spencer often fondly reminisces on seeing you in it that day. Unbeknownst to him, the jacket had been new when you had worn it then and you hadn’t thought much of it beyond it being appropriate for work. However, when you’d arrived home after your first day and taken said jacket off, only to discover that one of the sleeves was decorated by the scent of Spencer’s cologne from brushing past him, you found yourself setting it down on the back of your couch, ready to pick up before you left for the office the next morning. And in the months that have passed since, whenever it has been cold enough, you have worn this jacket in an effort to capture a piece of Spencer that you can actually take home with you.
So, when he insinuates exchanging the jacket for another, your cheeks grow hot.
“I like this jacket!” You argue, without anything to back yourself up because there is absolutely no way you can be honest.
“I know, I know.” Spencer laughs, slowly walking back over to his own desk, mind whirring with how many days he has until your birthday so that he can track down the exact jacket retailer to order you a new and identical one, because he assumes your attachment is to the jacket, rather than the jacket being a tool to ease your attachment to him.
Sometimes, even a genius misses the obvious. And sometimes, he makes you miss it too.
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milfjessepinkman · 5 months
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i hate walter as much as the next guy. but man he is such an interesting character. like he really isnt that machiavellian, i feel like thats mostly the fanbase talking. he is pretty much only really really good at cooking meth. gus is the machiavellian one, the one who is willing to put in his dues, to wait, to bide his time, to manipulate. walts solution to LITERALLY EVERYTHING is to either kill it or blow it up. (or both). Like every time he "makes a move" it is just him ordering other people to kill people or him blowing stuff up. he sucks at manipulating, he couldnt do it w. skyler she saw through his bullshit sooo early in the series, bc he is SO BAD at lying, and when she does work with him its not because she suddenly loves him again or whatever, its more pragmatic for her. he failed so hard at manipulating mike/gus/etc. the only person he actually successfully manipulated was his 24 year old junkie former student. not exactly the most difficult catch. also because he isn't machiavellian hes way more fun to watch -- he doesnt just do things because they're the best move, like gus. gus would more more boring a protagonist bc his moves are predictable, always optimal. but walts moves are also driven by his family and keeping up his lie and stuff. and sometimes he just does shit because he is a human being who cares about things. like when he ran over the dealers who were gonna kill jesse with his car. that move did not benefit him at all, like why did he do it?? I mean i know why he did it, hes obsessed w jesse and expresses "love" (devotion? loyalty?) through violence, but i think theres a lot of reddit bros who would be genuinely at a loss to explain his motivations in that scene. professionally walts a failure. for most of the series in the criminal underground he is also a failure. he can only get off on killing people and chemistry. he lives in the suburbs. his wife is 12 years younger than him. hes psychosexually obsessed w his former high school student. he drives a 2004 Pontiac Aztek. if he didnt get lung cancer he probably would just continue to be a shitty person in secret until his death. hes having a baby. albuquerque new mexico is a fantasy world and he is the chosen one. he gave a speech about how there were so many worse plane crashes to a building of people mourning a plane crash. hes a retail worker. the first thing he does as a criminal is come up with a cool fake name to sell drugs with. his solution to being missing is to get naked in a grocery store and it works for, like, a significant amount of time. he kills the big boss by blowing half his face off. when his making-meth assistant acts too cheerful he gets him fired and brings back the junkie former high school student instead. crazy guy!!
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xhoneygirlxx · 5 months
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no because I want a cute work romance with Eddie. Ok listen, hear me out on this!!!
What I’m talking about is the kind of work romance where you work at some kind of small work place (retail, coffee shop, book/record store), you know the kind where there’s only a small group of employees that are super close???
Anyway, I see it like Eddie gets hired and you so graciously get appointed by your manager to train him. Over time you two get close from all the time you spend together during your shifts. It starts off by little inside jokes between you, learning little facts about one another, and him constantly asking you for help with a cute flush on his cheeks.
Then you start calling him your bestie or some other nickname that makes him blush and duck his head. Every time you see him walk in you excitedly gasp, welcoming him with a big smile as you tell him how much you missed him.
You start having lunch breaks together, sometimes you bring him food and other times you share what you’ve brought for yourself, often times giving up more than half of your own lunch as you yell at him saying pretzels aren’t a meal. During this time you start to take fun videos/pics/snapchats with him, which is secretly because you’ve started to grow a crush on the metalhead but you’ll lie to your friends and say it’s not like that.
Finally you get his number. It happens a month or two into working together, Eddie making the first move by asking if he can send you a song (which is a lie he came up with just so he didn’t look weird asking for it) and you gladly give it to him.
He sends you a song here or there and you’ll text him asking if he’s coming in for work. Then you work up the courage to randomly send a meme to which he responds with another meme. It goes on like that for a while until one day he texts you out of the blue asking if you’d like to join him on a random day out.
You two go on like that for a few weeks, randomly inviting one another on different adventures just to spend more time together.
When you’re back at work the two of you can’t help but tease each other, spitting jokes and making each other laugh constantly. It doesn’t go unnoticed by your coworkers, all of them know you two like each other even going as far as to tell you so. You always brush them off though, saying it’s nothing but friendship but they’re smarter than that (plus they’ve all put in bets for when the both of you are going to get together).
Obviously there’s gonna be pining, jealously, and angst, but the slow burn of it all makes up for it.
I constantly think about this when I’m at work but I haven’t gotten lucky to finding this so for now this is all I’ll get lmao.
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morganbritton132 · 1 year
Note
Do you think Eddie and Steve have ever fallen victim to the weird trend of people calling the police to ‘save’ famous people? Like some fans of his tiktok became convinced Steve was holding him hostage after making 2+2=5 when they googled up Billy’s name
This is such an interesting question because I could see it going both ways.
There are always going to be people that look at Eddie and see wanted posters. There are people who will never be convinced that he didn’t commit those murders, and they’re only ever going to see a victim in Steve because of it.
Steve is clumsy. He has a head injury and issues with balance, and sometimes he gets confused. Sometimes he gets bruised. He’s cut his hand in the middle of a seizure and needed stitches. He’s broken his ankle and walked on it for an entire day.
Sometimes nurses and doctors see his injury and see his medical history, and then they see the scruffy guy calling himself his husband, and they ask him to step outside the room. They ask Steve questions and it always takes him a second to realize what they’re trying to get at because domestic abuse is not something that he can attach to Eddie in any capacity.
And Steve will get angry about it. How dare they think such a thing? How could they look at Eddie and see how much love he holds in his heart and think that he would ever hurt Steve?
 
I think that Eddie is always going to have some fans that see Steve as this bad guy that does not deserve to be with him. There is nothing that he will ever do that can change that. They are just angry that Eddie is with someone other than them.
I can definitely see them hearing about all the bad shit that went down in Hawkins and seeing Steve’s connection to some of it – The coverup story for Starcourt paints Robin and Steve as two dedicated retail employees that saved a bunch of children from a fire – and then take that extra step to twist it into something so much worse.
The kid that went missing in Hawkins in 1983 just so happened to be the little brother of the guy that stole Steve’s high school girlfriend? That’s interesting. That’s suspicious.
And his high school bully (that he apparently hit with a car!) just so happened to die in a fire at his place of work? Weird.
And despite the fact that the police and an angry mob couldn’t find Eddie, Steve Harrington – a video rental employee – happened to find him?
You pair the horror story that was Hawkins in the eighties up with Eddie’s scars and all the off-hand jokes people have made on live-streams about Steve’s sleepwalking, or with Steve’s reactions to being scared and you can make a convincing case for anything.
Eddie ends a live-stream early one night at Steve’s request and then an hour later, they’re getting a knock on the door by two police officers doing a welfare check.
Steve and Eddie are obviously confused, and Steve is really disheartened when one of the officers lets it slip that the person calling was concerned because of a live-stream.
It puts a damper on the date night he’d set up for them in the living room and he doesn’t really want to continue it after the cops leave. Eddie tries to find the bright side of the situation, “Babe, it’s nothing. It’s not like it’ll be in the papers.”
“They think I hurt you,” Steve says. “They – your fans think that I would – that I’d ever – and they’re not wrong, technically. I have hurt you before.”
“And I nearly cut your throat with a broken glass bottle,” Eddie replies, ignoring the way Steve scoffs at him. “Anything that you’ve ever done because you were confused or lost in your head, or sleepwalking doesn’t count. You weren’t all here and it’s not your fault if you aren’t aware of what you’re doing, right? And anyways, I’m typically bothering you.”
“You’re blaming yourself for me hurting you?”
“No, I’m – No. I’m not,” Eddie clarifies. “I am saying that I don’t always come into the situation knowing what’s going on and sometimes I make it worse. Sure, I’ve gotten a bit of a hit. You kick in your sleep. But you have never hurt me.”
“Is it El’s fault when the cabinets rattle when she has a nightmare?” Eddie continues because it’s clear that Steve does not agree with him. “Or that time she got so scared that all the lightbulbs shattered? You got cut when that happened, remember? You have a scar. Is that her fault?”
“That’s different. She can’t-“
“And neither can you,” Eddie says. “I’m telling you now, Stevie. You know what my life was like before I moved in with Wayne. I will never be in a situation like that again. So, if I was than I would not be here, but I am here because you have never done anything to hurt me, okay?”
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Text
TikTok was where I learned about SHEIN. For a while my For You page, which had accurately identified my interest in fashion’s more material impacts, served me videos of sustainable fashion influencers decrying SHEIN’s wretched labor and environmental practices. The textile industry is the second-largest polluter in the world, they said, and of all the fast-fashion producers, SHEIN is by far the worst offender. SHEIN uses toxic chemicals in their clothing production; SHEIN mass-produces fabrics like spandex that never decompose (at this point an image would flash across the screen: an overflowing clothing landfill, or a mountain of discarded clothes in the Chilean desert so large it is visible from space); SHEIN exploits and endangers its factory workers. Employees earn $556 a month to make five hundred pieces of clothing every day, work eighteen-hour days, and use their lunch breaks to wash their hair — a schedule they repeat seven days per week with only one day off per month. A more nuanced TikToker might point out, briefly, that conditions in SHEIN factories are not necessarily unique, or that focusing on suppliers — rather than the larger systems of Western consumption and capitalism that create these conditions — is a fool’s errand, but the platform isn’t built for that kind of dialogue. I clicked on the comments and invariably read ones with several dozen likes saying, “I’m so willing to die in shein clothes.” Before long I was watching SHEIN hauls. There are millions of them — the tag #sheinhaul has been viewed a collective 14.2 billion times on TikTok. In each haul, a woman rips open a plastic bag filled with smaller plastic bags filled with small plastic clothing. Sometimes the woman holds up each garment and narrates its merits, but often the clothes are disembodied, laid flat on a floor or a bed in an accidental stop-motion animation. A stretchy red skirt on a furry white carpet is replaced by a strapless watercolor bustier with a deep-V neckline. A zebra-print skirt is followed by a matching pink two-piece set, with a short-sleeve cardigan and miniskirt constructed from a fabric that looks like bubble wrap. Sometimes a haul is five pieces, and sometimes it is too many pieces to count. The garments appear and disappear in seconds, edited to the beat of a trending song. Rarely do we see the clothing on a body. Usually brand familiarity accrues in a slow drip, building from obscurity to instant recognizability over the course of months or years as a designer’s work intersects with the zeitgeist and gains traction on social media. SHEIN was different. One day I’d never heard of the retailer and the next it was inescapable: in thousands of outfit videos, on millions of social media feeds. The clothes weren’t distinct or cohesive; what united them wasn’t style but price. All those SHEIN hauls entered my feeds with such ubiquity that they began to feel like they’d always been there. I’d opened a door to a new part of the fashion internet: a place where girls bragged about their ultra-fast-fashion purchases, delighting in the cheapness of the garments. Here, SHEIN was the obvious choice for new clothes. Why not, when you could buy on-trend pieces at lightning speed for less than the price of a cup of coffee? It was uncanny to bounce between videos: here was a girl showing off her new halter, here was another girl giving a litany of reasons why it was unconscionable to buy clothes for so little money. Didn’t these TikTokers hear one another? But then again, how could they? “This is what we keep missing here in the whole conversation about sustainability in the industry,” Nick Anguelov, a professor of public policy from UMass Dartmouth, said to a Slate journalist writing about SHEIN in June. “We keep failing to understand that our customers are kids and they don’t give a fuck.”
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explorationsoftheid · 10 months
Text
Autism: A Senior Perspective
Recently there was a post on here where someone was saying how everyone automatically hates us because of our autism. How they may act nice to our face, but trash talk us once we’re out of earshot. How everyone will abuse, even kill us, because they can’t stand our autism. I replied that they were just wrong about that. That everyone doesn’t automatically hate us.
The more I thought about it though, the more I saw this was an opportunity for those of us who are older and are autistic, to share our perspectives, our experiences. I think it might help those who are young to know what we went through, how we coped, how our lives have turned out. Most importantly that it can get better.
I’ll start:
I’m 62 years old. Looking back with what I know now it’s clear that I was definitely autistic as a child. Today, my teachers would have pressed to get me tested, but in the 1970s, well autism wasn’t on anyones radar. I doubt my parents would have gone along with that anyway. They were the, “Straighten up and do what you’re supposed to”, and “Boys don’t cry” attitude so common of their generation. I had significant trouble with social interactions, I stuttered, and fought like hell to not melt down in loud and overwhelming situations. Public school was unfortunately full of those. I liked procedure and process, there was a right way and a wrong way to do things and I would get upset if someone broke ‘the rules’. I would obsess over particular subjects. Actually I drove some of my teachers nuts. They would give me a writing assignment and I would turn in a top quality report, but I would have somehow twisted what they wanted into what I wanted to write about.
High School was very confusing. People started dating and going to dances, and all that. I kept asking, only half as a joke if I had missed a class or something because it was all so strange to me. I went off to University and really did well there. My grades weren’t good, (I had to work well over full time to afford to stay in school) but I loved academia. The order, the quiet of the library, being able to study a subject that I was totally onto because I had chosen it as my major. The people I worked with, at all of my jobs, grew to understand my ‘quirks’ and were fine with them. I only wish I hadn’t had to work so much. My middling grades meant that by the time I graduated, I was mentally exhausted, and didn’t qualify for Grad School.
So, I got a job and had to move across the country. There I met someone who I have spent the succeeding 36 years with. They understand me, accept that sometimes I’m a bit odd. Sometimes I react badly to things. Sometimes I just have to say no, and they roll with that.
So I’m now approaching retirement. In the last few years I finally figured out that autism was the reason for all the trouble I’ve had over the years. I’m not lazy, or dumb, or anything like that, I’m autistic. I’m neurodivergent, and that’s the way it is. The worst time frankly was in my childhood and my teens. Since then I’ve learned how to deal with the world. I’ve found people who like me for me, people I don’t have to mask or put on an act around. I’ve found other autistic people and am not the only one anymore. I figured out what jobs suited my talents, and limitations (Retail? No! Computer Wizard or someone who makes things work in the background? Yes!) I’m approaching retirement and honestly things are going pretty well now.
So fellow Autistic Seniors, (That is to say anyone that thinks of themselves as older than most), what was your experience living your life as an autistic person? How have things turned out for you? What advice would you give to children or teens that are struggling to cope?
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fuck-customers · 3 months
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working retail in the US has made me feel so hopeless about the state of credit cards in this country… had a customer come up to the register with $700 worth of clothes and shoes (relatively normal where I work which to me, making $15/hr, is absolutely bonkers) — when she went to pay she started grumbling that she left her cards at home and didn’t want to go all the way back for it.
as a small line forms behind her while she rustles through her purse I mention that we can put her items on hold until the end of the day, and keep in mind its like a random monday at 1 pm so ? if you’re free to shop why not just go and come back ?
anyways she eventually fishes out a card and sticks it into the machine saying “oh maybe this one will work” — machine takes it for $260 but she still has a sizable balance left
she continues grumbling and ignoring me (as well as the LINE forming behind her and I am the only employee at the register bc they cut all our hours haha!!) and after 5 minutes pulls out ANOTHER random credit card that she claims to have thought went missing years ago?? anyway. somehow this takes care of the balance and I send her on her merry way (she inexplicably stops at an empty register and begins fiddling through her wallet and bags. I feel insane when people do this. go to your car and stop blocking others from pushing carts through the register line)
I just was so baffled that a 40-60 year old woman was able to just put $700 on two random credit cards she found in her purse without a care in the world?? how many credit cards do you have?? I see people sometimes with a stack of them 3-5 inches thick. I don’t understand this. I hate that predatory credit companies are manipulating people into spending money they don’t have and grifting off of people’s poor financial decisions.
Posted by admin Rodney.
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luveline · 2 years
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can you write steve and his moody gf? been dying to have those.
steve and an unhappy gf ♡ fem!reader | 0.6k
Working at Family Video sucks. Working at Family Video with your boyfriend sucks less, but not a lot. You're sulking behind the counter and Steve's standing behind you, humming. It's not his fault you're in a less than happy mood, of course, and you try your best not to take it out on him, but you can't help the dejected slump to your shoulders. 
Minimum wage sucks. Work sucks. Life sometimes sucks. You're so bored and kind of hungry and staring at the same parking lot day in and day out could make anybody miserable, not just the naturally predisposed like yourself. 
"How's my frowny girl doing?" Steve asks as he comes up behind you, quiet enough that only you can hear him. 
"I'm okay," you say, though really you're contemplating grabbing one of the pencils from the pen pot to stab yourself in the eye. 
He starts slow. His hands at your wrists, pushing up the length of your arm gently, ruffling the stupid Family Video vest until he's squeezing your upper arms. He ducks his face into the side of your neck and his arms cross, hugging you carefully but with purpose. 
You try not to melt. 
"You wanna take your lunch break now?" he asks into your skin. He seals his words in with a kiss, small and weirdly refreshing, like cool water's been splashed over you. 
"I can't," you mumble. 
You're limp in his hold rather than hugging him back, distracted by how unhappy you are. Your thoughts are a pulse. I don't want to be here. You feel cruel for thinking it at all when Steve is being his usual lovely self. 
He stands at full height but leaves his arms where they are until you reciprocate, a split second where you clutch his arms and then squirm, forcing him to drop his hold. 
"Why not?" he asks. 
"I forgot it." 
"That's okay," he says without missing a beat. "You can have half of mine." 
He's so nice it's annoying. You scrub your eyes with your fingers until they burn and try to think of a way to refuse. It's not fair to take half of his food because you're stupid enough to forget your own. 
He moves to stand between your side and the wrap around desk so you'll look at him. He seems upset upset you're upset and that's another thing to add to the levy, his pretty brown eyes all cruel in their sadness, a sight that makes you moodier. You smile in efforts to alleviate his concern. It's empty of any sincerity but the attempt is enough to give him back that heart-aching grin. 
"How about we have a day off tomorrow?" he whispers. 
"We can't do that to Robin," you say. 
"She did it to us last week." 
"There's two of us and only one of her. It wouldn't be fair." 
"I'll buy her a paperback or something. She won't mind. She doesn't like how unhappy you've been, either." 
"Sorry," you apologise. It comes out stilted and you have to cover your eyes with your hand to stop from exploding, letting out a huge exhale of breath. "Sorry, Steve. I just fucking- I fucking hate this job sometimes." 
"Don't be," he says easily. "Seriously. Me too. Work sucks." He leans back on his elbows, chin popped up and grin almost contagious as he says, "Better when you're here." 
"If I didn't have you I'd be in jail," you tell him. You're not even sure it's an exaggeration. Retail tests your patience. 
"Good thing you have me, then, you little freak." 
You smile. It's the first genuine one of the day and Steve doesn't bother hiding how smug he is. 
"You're the freak," you grumble. 
"Sure, babe." 
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castielslostwings · 1 year
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Please help me tell people about my book!
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Hi! I'm publishing a book! It's HERE, just in time for Christmas!! It's GAY!! It's romantic!!! It's HOT! It has firefighters and background sapphic romance, and is exciting AF!!!
I'm very excited, too!
Both U.S. domestic and international friends can order shipped Paperbacks from me directly via my Ko-Fi shop (retailers take less of a cut): https://ko-fi.com/castielslostwings/shop Or you can order on amazon directly, this is the only way to get the KINDLE ebook option: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1945687126
Standard EPUB format is available to download directly from me for $1 cheaper than Amazon: https://ko-fi.com/s/2a82c64d56
And WILL be available at other retailers soon!
Here's the thing: I had a pretty solid platform on Twitter, but since Elon took over, a lot of my followers left, the algorithm crashed, and the whole thing might go under. I don't have the same reach on other platforms, so I need some help! Please share this post if you like GAY SHIT and BOOKS and helping indie content creators be successful!!! Please follow me or check out my ko-fi for updates! Thanks!!! Here's my pitch, hope you like it:
"Fire & Ice": The flaming hot queer romance novel where a foray into BDSM helps two best friends find themselves, each other, and what it really means to burn. Summary: "Firefighter Tripp Truett has somehow tumbled into a whole new kind of relationship with his quirky paramedic best friend, Lee, but mutual relief from their high-stress jobs quickly develops into something more. With all the missed signals and crossed wires, can these two ever figure out that they're so much closer to being on the same page than they think?"
**************************************** About the author (info dump ahoy!!!!) :
I'm Robin, sometimes known as Wings! I'm a 36-year-old, queer, autistic, disabled mom of 2 humans and 5 senior rescue dogs, former R.N. & paramedic. I'm a hardcore fangirl and a proud fanfic writer (and reader), and while I know some people will judge me for that, I am not ashamed! I started writing as a hobby after becoming physically disabled and unable to work as an RN. Fanfic gave me an audience and an outlet, gifted me purpose and hope again. Transformative fiction is FUN! It fosters creativity and passion, heals wounds, and makes people happy. If someone wants to discredit me for that, then perhaps they aren't the audience I'm seeking.
Ultimately, I know I'm taking a risk, but since people seem to enjoy my fics, this book is my attempt to try and make ends meet through original fiction! I know some people WILL discredit me. But I'm always about being myself and speaking on what I feel matters: Fanfic should be legitimized as a creative medium. I assure you, friends—the thousands of hours I've spent on my fanworks are as REAL as it gets. The intersection of disparaging fanfic + sexism/misogyny can't be overstated—women (esp queer women)'s unpaid work is often treated as a "hobby," not worthy of uplifting. I'm here to uplift! The risk is worth it—I would have nothing without fanfic & I'm proud. Younger creators shouldn't feel shame about writing/reading fanfic. We should ALL approach it as a legitimate medium. In fact, MOST new media these days is transformative "fanwork" of SOME kind, whether it's inspired by, based on, or outright rebooting existing worlds.
Plus, we queer folk simply deserve to see our stories in the mainstream media and to see the characters we fall in love, identify with, and root for to get their happily ever afters.
TL;DR: I'm keeping my name and history. Hopefully, I'll be successful in original fiction, but if not, I'll still be a fangirl. Please consider supporting me + other creators attempting to dip into original works. Follow or subscribe to my ko-fi for previews, updates, access to my discord community where I share exclusive content, and more: https://ko-fi.com/castielslostwings FIRE & ICE IS NOW AVAILABLE THROUGH MULTIPLE PLATFORMS! Ko-Fi subscribers will have the option to buy signed copies & merch bundles! The link to purchase will also be posted there first.
A MAJOR thank you to my friends, editors, and to everyone who in my server for supporting and encouraging me to put myself out there and try something new. Love you guys so much. <3 Thank you to @chaoticdean for the beautiful cover. Many more thank yous to come. P.S. If you are reading this and know anyone with a platform who might be interested in receiving a free copy in exchange for promo (only if they enjoy, ofc), please holler at me, I can use all the help I can get!
<3 Wings
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stevesbipanic · 1 year
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ok ok ok ive seen a lot of rockstar eddie and bodyguard steve (and dont get me wrong i LOVE that) BUT-hear me out- Rockstar Eddie Munson and his private jet pilot Steve Harrington 👀
Another awesome prompt from you ❤️
Steve had spent his whole life wanting to be free.
The life his parents had designed for him felt suffocating also too tight suits and stuff dinners and hopes for college just to work for his father, to be like his father.
The only thing Steve had liked about being a rich kid growing up was flying to new places. No, not going to new places, new places was just new people his parents wanted to meet. But flying, Steve felt no worries whenever he looked out the window at the clouds.
After his parents cut him off and put of their lives when he didn't get into college, no matter how much money they tried throwing at the problem, Steve had saved up working retail job after retail job with Robin until he had enough money for flight school.
He can remember clearly his first solo flight, he felt so free up in the air, nothing but him and the clouds.
Now 25, he flies private jets, or, more specifically, one private jet.
Eddie Munson had kept his promise of running out of Hawkins the moment that diploma touched his fingers. Him, Jeff and Freak got a dingy apartment in Indianapolis, working odd jobs for a year and playing in dingier bars on the weekend until Gareth joined them the following year. Then a few months after Gareth joined them full-time they got discovered at one of their gigs.
Soon they were signed, releasing their first album which blew up. After that it was a blur of concerts and touring and more albums. Now 26, Eddie Munson is a household name.
Eddie hated the tour bus lifestyle, always cramped and felt like his trailer but with Freak's snores and every pothole in the US to wake him up. Once the band was big enough, Eddie knew what he wanted, a jet.
The problem though was a lot of pilots were homophobic and Eddie had recently came out with support from the majority of his fans. The band went through many pilots before meeting Steve.
Eddie didn't recognise Steve at first, it had been a few years since he'd graduated and more since King Steve had been in his view. Steve recognised Eddie though, not often you forget the guy that made you learn the word bisexual.
Steve was kind now, softer, free. One drunken night Steve confessed how he hated being King Steve, how he wished he'd been better to Eddie. Eddie told him none of that mattered now, Steve was better now and that was what was important.
Steve and Eddie grew closer, sometimes Eddie would sit in the cockpit (a word he loved joking about) with Steve, telling him stories about their tours. Steve would share stories about working with Robin and the kids (who Eddie missed and was glad to hear were doing well) and flight school.
During the times between tours they'd talk on the phone, Steve bemoaning about annoying clients and Eddie telling him about the new songs he was writing.
"The woman kept trying to come into the cockpit,stop laughing you should be used to that word, E's, anyway I swear the husband was ready to kill me by the time we landed."
"The ladies just can't resist you, sweetheart."
"I just wish you were on tour all the time, I like flying with you."
"What if you just have me as a client?"
"You don't need to fly all the time, Eds."
"I want to fly with you all the time, Stevie."
Steve was 27 and he only flew Eddie Munson around. He didn't need to fly on tour all the time but after an incident with a client Eddie didn't want Steve flying anyone else and just paid him full-time, he could afford it.
"He's your flight sugar daddy."
"Never say that again, Robs."
Steve lived in an apartment near Eddie's now, not that he spent much time there, he mainly hung out at Eddie's. Movie nights, smoke sessions, Eddie showing Steve new songs, Eddie not admitting a lot of songs were about Steve.
It all came to a head one night. The two men were slightly tipsy, sitting on Eddie's balcony looking out at the city.
"I never thought I'd be here."
"If anyone deserves it it's you, Eds."
"I have a confession. 'Burning Skies' is about you."
Steve turned towards Eddie smiling softly.
"I know Eds, and I know 'Ticket to Ride' is too, and 'Death by Gravity', you're not subtle and unless you know any other people that fly around all day."
"But, but they're love songs, Stevie."
"I know Eds, I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."
Eddie was now smiling back at Steve, glancing down at his lips. Neither man knows who leant in first but finally, after three years of friendship, they kissed softly under the glow of the city lights.
"Does this mean I get to see your cockpit?"
"I will break up with you right now!"
They both laughed knowing Steve wouldn't, Steve may have felt free in the air, but he felt alive with Eddie by his side.
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thebibliosphere · 10 months
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Hey Joy! Apologies if this has been answered before (I couldn‘t find an answer, but I might’ve missed something) - I want to finally buy Phangs, and I live in Germany. I don’t have an Amazon account, and I would prefer not to make one - is there another way in which I can buy a physical copy? Thank you!
Thank you for asking! If you check my buy links (pinned post), you can find several European stores. Both editions are available at Hugendubel, which is the main German retailer I have access to, as well as Thalia.
If those don’t work for you, you might be able to order it through your bookstore of choice. I know some people in Europe have been able to request it from their local bookstore— I just can’t provide links to everywhere because books2read only has access to so many retailers :)
Also check to see if any of the linked ebook stores are available to you. Sometimes those stores also have the paperbacks and the links just don’t auto-generate.
Hope that helps!
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