#Benny O’Donnell

[spatialwave]

𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒.

"𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑”

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader | benny o’donnell x fem!reader word count: 4.9k summary: with the party in full swing, you find yourself trapped between an unstoppable force (angus) and an immovable object (benny). it’s a love triangle you’d never asked to happen, but when you lacked important decision making, you could only get away with so much. while drunk, high, and full of emotions, you’re hit with a question — who will you choose? warnings/tags: mdni! slight mostly censored smut, kissing/making out, sexual touching, angst, hurt/comfort, underage drinking and drug use, jealousy, love triangle, name-calling, emetophobia/reader v*mits. notes: only one more chapter!!! :')

<- chapter three. | chapter five. →

This was your first time at the moonlight tower, a large, slightly wooded area that was lit up by the floodlights fixated on the large structure. By the time you arrived, the alcohol and weed in your system had been diminished to minimal effects––you were not here to be sober, you knew that much. 

“Where’s the kegs?” You were the first to ask as the vehicle rolled to a stop amongst the sea of others, some still sitting in their seats, gossiping and toking. Sliding out of the back, you landed on the grass with a soft huff as you looked around. You had never seen this many people at a party since you moved here, your lips curved up into a smile as it reminded you of the wild nights back home in California. A bonfire on a beach with dozens of drunk teens, basking in the bright moonlight and fresh smell of the ocean… oh, how you wished you could show Kaye and Shavonne the beauty of it.

“I see one,” Kaye pointed ahead as you girls stayed together in a flock, your eyes drifting to the side as you walked past two boys smoking from a bong, one of them nearly coughing up a lung.

“I should've stolen beer from Teddy when I had a chance,” you murmured, “You think Wooderson got enough kegs for everyone here?”

“You’d be surprised at his ability to know exactly what he needs,” Shavonne grinned, showing her pearly whites as spun on her heels to walk backward toward the party, “I think you have a drinking problem, Missy.”

“Me?” You gawked, pointing your finger against your chest with a quizzical look plastered on your face.

“Either that, or you’re trying to get drunk so you can avoid dealing with the consequences of your actions,” she chewed on your bottom lip, grinning when you couldn’t formulate a response, “Bingo! I knew it.”

“You can’t lead them both on, you know,” Kaye spoke from your left, another cigarette already lit and resting between her fingers, “and this is coming from someone who doesn’t give a shit about men and their feelings, but Angus,” she murmured, brows furrowing together, “he’s a really nice guy. Nicer than Benny could ever be.”

Her words made your stomach coil uncomfortably, cringing at the mere idea of finding Benny and telling him it's over. It wouldn’t bother you so much, sure, you’d miss his touch and comfort that was a near-addiction… but it would be hopefully replaced. You weren’t certain that he would feel the same.

“No, no, no,” you shook your head, “No lecturing me tonight! I’m allowed to make dumb decisions, and my first dumb decision is pounding back as many beers as I can hold.”

“Oh, god,” Kaye grinned, “I’m not taking care of you at the end of the night.”

You could only hold two beers, both had settled nicely in your stomach, having chugged them within 5 minutes of each other, and you were delighted to feel that familiar buzzing in your system that kept a smile settled on your lips. Sabrina had wandered off somewhere, likely to find Tony, while Shavonne just finished excusing herself so she could spend some time with Elise and Darla––much to your dismay. You could already imagine the gossip that would spread.

Clutching your third drink now, you and Kaye had settled against a large tree, standing side by side and watching as people laughed together, some stumbling after drinking far too much too quickly. Normally, you’d be right in there, dancing to whatever song was playing and shooting back beers like there were no tomorrow, but even two beers couldn’t settle your racing mind.

“What if I piss off Benny?” You turned your head to look at your brunette friend, meeting her darkened gaze as she finished off her second beer, “I mean, maybe I’m overthinking it, but it feels like he’s into this way more than I am.”

Kaye inhaled as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Is it going to be harsh?” You asked, crinkling your nose as she nodded, “Go on.”

“You need to break it off as soon as possible because I may not know Benny on a personal level, hell, I don’t like him on a personal level, but he’s been starting to look at you with these eyes that scream ‘I am in love’. Or at least infatuation, I think love is too strong,” her words making your eyes widen, “you need to pull the brakes on it before you go starting something with Angus. Neither of those boys deserve that.”

“That’s not fair, Angus is still dating Elise,” you pouted, lifting a hand up to feel your cheeks that were beginning to feel uncomfortably hot, “Those are double standards.”

Kaye smiled, reaching a hand to your other cheek and giving it a few gentle pats, “Life sucks, doesn’t it? It’s a man’s world.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” You blinked a few times.

“Not at all.”

Both you and Kaye shared a good laugh as you both grew tipsier as the night went on, practically attached at the hip as you wandered around to find another keg. Four beers was a bit much, you knew this the moment that you got halfway into the red solo cup because you felt a pain in your stomach, and you did not want those cheese fries coming back up.

You weren’t drunk yet. Very buzzed? Absolutely.

“I’m going to go back to the car, I forgot my cigarettes,” Kaye said into your ear before disappearing into the sea of people. You stayed put for a few seconds, thinning your lips as you held your cup and looked over the partygoers, but you were on the brink of being downright drunk, so of course you couldn’t remain still.

Tossing your unfinished beer over your shoulder, you decided to venture around and see who you might run into. Confidence coursed through your veins as you stopped to talk to people here and there, mostly classmates, sometimes a few random people that seemed either too young or old to be seniors. 

You couldn’t help that you were a chatty drunk. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Benny’s voice was hot against your ear as you felt arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you up until your feet were off the ground.

“Benny!” You laughed giddily, kicking your legs until he placed you back on solid ground. You spun around quickly, looking up at him as his arms remained around you, hands settling on the curves of your hips, “You’re drunk,” you told him, lifting a hand to playfully tug at the ball cap he wore.

“You’re the drunk one,” he chuckled, taking a few steps back with you as he settled against the side of his truck, your body still completely wrapped by his strong arms. 

“Hardly drunk,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared up at the blue-eyed boy, the one you’d spent many nights with. The one who knew your body better than anyone else.

It was a nasty predicament to be caught in, though, it had a rather easy answer. It just so happened that you were too weak to say what needed to be done, even drunk. You couldn’t stand there in his arms and even begin to imagine the look of disappointment on his face when you tell him you need to end things, not tonight. Not on your first night of freedom after junior year.

Fuck, this really wasn’t fair, was it?

“Did you wanna’ come to my place later?” Benny asked, his hands migrating further down your back until they were low enough to grab at your ass, a cheeky smile on his lips.

You let out a shaky exhalation, lips twitching––just do it. 

“Maybe,” you smiled, ignoring the gnawing reality in the back of your head and displacing it until you were sober again, “What’re you going to do? Try steal me away from the party?”

You really did have a problem. Kaye was right, you fed off of male attention, and Benny just so happened to be the one showering you in it.

“Yeah, I’d steal you,” Benny winked.

Only a few minutes later, the two of you were in the cab of his truck, him sitting in the middle with you straddling his hips as you sat over his lap. You’d been in this position dozens of times, his hands on your hips as your lips moved together desperately, tasting beer, cigarettes and mint gum. Your arms were always snug around his neck, fingers brushing into his tight curls after knocking the hat from his head.

Neither of you seemed to care that anyone could watch if they wanted, hell, Melvin and a couple of girls were sitting in the truck bed laughing and drinking, completely unbothered by the horny teens that were seconds away from undressing each other.

“Fuck, Benny,” you whimpered against his lips, tilting your head back so he was forced to pepper kisses along your jaw and neck, sending shivers down your spine.

The world spun as you stared up at the ceiling of the truck’s cab, eyelashes fluttering as you felt him suck a mark just underneath your ear and too dazed to try to push him away or berate him for doing so. You just kept your hands in his curls and your chest pushed out as his lips trail down your collarbone and around the straps of the floral halter top you wore.

Both of you had no intention of stopping, the beers in your system removing any and all inhibitions. Gone were the thoughts of Angus, and Kaye’s advice––all you knew was that right now, you had someone willing and eager to give you the attention you desired. It wasn’t so bad to know what you wanted.

Benny’s hands trailed up your bare sides, fingers pressing underneath the tight fabric of the top that clung to your skin as his lips moved down your exposed cleavage. You could feel your body growing warm, your hips twitching over his lap as you parted your lips to let out a quiet sound.

“You’re so perfect,” you heard him say under his breath against your skin and somehow, those words managed to stir a sour feeling in your stomach. Back came Kaye’s voice about how Benny was infatuated with you, and only now did you understand what she meant.

The poor guy wanted you more than just nights like these, he worshipped the very ground you walked on. He wanted to call you his.

Your hands dropped from his hair and rested on his shoulders as a hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers teasing at the knot that kept your halter top covering your chest. As you swallowed a lump down your throat, you tilted your chin down to meet Benny’s gaze, seeing the way his blue eyes sparkled.

This was bad.

“Woah!” The sound of a voice startled you both, Benny’s hand quickly dropping as you both looked over and saw Mel standing at the driver’s door with the window rolled down, “Didn’t know you guys were putting on a show for us,” he grinned from ear to ear, wagging his eyebrows at you.

You felt like you were going to be sick as you slid off of Benny’s lap and settled into the passenger seat, looking out the front window as the boys chatted. You didn’t quite make out what they were saying, but something about a keg needing to be tapped.

“Hey,” Benny caught your attention, your eyes flickering to him as he put his hat back on, “I’ll be back in a bit. You’ll stay here?” Your mouth had gone dry and all you could do was smile and nod, feeling your heart tighten as a smile spread across his lips while he left.

You were silent for a minute, blinking a few times as you looked ahead at the tree Benny had parked toward. 

“Nope, no,” you breathed to yourself, turning to the door and quickly opening the handle, “I’m not staying. Fuck this. This is stupid,” you slurred. 

Without looking back, you slammed the truck door shut and walked as far away from Benny’s truck as you could, eyes staring straight ahead while putting one foot in front of the other and focusing on not tumbling to the ground. The now four beers inside your stomach had settled fine, but left you teetering on the edge of being downright drunk, and it was too early to be plastered just yet.

Your breath quickened as panic coursed through your veins, leaving you on the brink of hyperventilation with thoughts swirling through your mind angrily. Kaye’s voice ringing in your ears, the look of love on Benny’s face… Angus’ smile. You curved your path around a tree in hopes you would find a place to collapse and cry, but you ran right into someone’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry,” you groaned, reaching forward to grab onto the fabric of their clothing so you didn’t fall back. As your eyes flickered up, you were greeted with a small smile from Angus Tully.

Maybe things really did work out for a reason.

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled, eyes a bit reddened, and you could tell that he had been indulging in smoking with Slater, “Was hoping that I’d run into you sooner than later.”

His words made your stomach twist again and all you wanted was to find your friends, maybe find a quiet place to empty the contents of your stomach and end the night with cold water and more greasy food to put you to sleep. You had only been at the party for less than an hour, and you were content with going home.

Being wrapped up in drama wasn’t your cup of tea, but you let yourself dig deep into this one.

“You okay?” His voice vibrated through your spinning head as you stared up at him with heavy eyes. You could make out the sincere concern he had, it made your cheeks warm to think he was worried about you.

“I’m fine,” you replied, forcing a smile on your lips as you took a step back, “Just lost Shavonne and Kaye, so I’ve been wandering around looking for something to do.” 

Lies.

“Why don’t you come climb the moon tower, man?” Slater’s voice had startled you, “... Maybe not, you seem jumpy, man.”

“I’m not jumpy,” you cleared your throat, smiling shyly as you looked over to the long-haired stoner who shoved his hands into his pockets and made way for the tower beyond the trees. Pickford was following closely behind.

“Come on,” Angus stepped forward and nudged you playfully, “It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

You watched with curious eyes as he stepped past you and toward the tower, leaving you in your spot, feeling small and hopeless. It took a few seconds to calm yourself before you made the executive decision to force your brain to stop thinking and just start saying ‘yes’ to whatever came your way. 

All goddamn day you waited so patiently for a night of partying and here you were wishing you could just sit down and cry. Not tonight. This was your night.

“Why do they call it the moon tower?” You asked once you’d reached the large structure, watching closely as Slater and Pickford had started climbing up the ladder situated in the middle of the metal bars. Both of them had moved to the sides to clear the way of the ladder, hanging onto the various poles and looking out toward the sea of teens, then down at you as you followed Angus.

“Uh,” Angus breathed out, glancing down at you for a moment to watch you start climbing up the ladder before he continued going up, past the two stoners, “I guess they put it up here whenever they were building the power plant. It’s actually a good idea, you got a full moon out here every day of the year, you know?”

You crinkled your eyebrows together as you adjusted your hands each time you stepped up the ladder, feeling hot underneath the bright lights and trying your best not to think about how high you were with each passing second. Angus moved up the ladder and right past the two boys hanging around with ease like a pair of monkeys in a tree, grinning from ear to ear as their eyes watched your meticulous movements.

“Yeah, but nothing’s ever been repaired, so this whole place could fall down at any time,” Pickford spoke, eyes full of mischief, “So you better watch your step.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to them—gasping when Pickford fell back, pretending of course and leaving your stomach churning. You muttered an insult at him as you inhaled a sharp breath, reaching the same height as them both as Angus continued his trek to the top.

“This place used to be off-limits, man,” Slater said to you, hugging onto the pole with heavy, red eyes watching your every movement, “‘cause some drunk freshman fell off. He went right down the middle, smackin’ his head on every beam, man.”

Your face crinkled in disgust, pausing your movements when you came eye-to-eye with Slater, “Nice try, asshole, I’m not easily persuaded by urban legends.”

The long-hair teen chuckled as Pickford began scaling the moon tower from the outside, “I’m being serious, man, you think I’d lie to you?” He asked, fighting back more laughter, “The autopsy said he had one beer, how many did you have?”

“Four, and I’m doing just fine,” you rolled your eyes, smirking as you pulled yourself past him, closing in on Angus who had paused to wait for you. Your eyes connected in an intense stare and a blush coated your cheeks, the sound of Slater’s voice warning you muffled and inaudible.

“Shut up, Slater,” Angus grinned, shooting you a confident wink before continuing his trek. God, he really knew how to work you.

By the time you’d reached the top, you were finally feeling so tipsy that your fear of heights had completely vanished. You looked in awe at the horizon of lights that came from the small town—it was peaceful up here, away from everyone else. It felt like this came straight out of a movie scene.

“You show this tower to all your girls?” You asked Angus, sitting on the platform with him and letting your legs dangle off the edge while resting against the metal that fenced you in. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “so, get in line. I have a waitlist.”

“Jerk,” you giggled, shoving his side with your elbow as you two sat side-by-side. 

A joint had been passed around again, coming to you three times before you were pleasantly high and staring off into the void of the night sky. It was a new moon, so the moon tower was the only light—it was beautiful.

Slater had started up a conversation about how many people were fucking then and there, pointing at the lights from town. You just sat there and listened in to the banter between him and Pickford, finding the boys comforting after a moment of panic.

“You sure you’re okay?” Angus whispered to you, his big brown eyes settling on you and surrounding you with comfort, “you seem… off.”

“Off?” You questioned, acting oblivious, “I’m fine. Just… tipsy. Stomach hurts a little, I guess.”

He didn’t believe you because you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes as you spoke, chewing on your bottom lip to force back any lingering emotion. It’s not like you were going to sit here and talk to him like Kaye, spilling your guts about your insecurities with the situation you had going with both him and Benny. That was a can of worms you wanted to keep shut.

The two of you sat in silence, your chin resting against the metal bar in front of you that kept you steady and from falling off the tower.

“You’re a bad liar,” Angus huffed, your eyes drifting back to him to see his jaw clenching. Was he upset?

“Not lying.”

“Then why is your face all red?” He questioned, and you grew defensive.

“Why are you being so nosy? It’s none of your business.” You spat back, anger filling your body. This was not where things needed to go.

“Is it about Benny?” He tilted his head with a raised eyebrow, eyes piercing into yours. You felt judged by him for the first time ever, “I don���t know what you get out of sleeping with him, like his own personal little… plaything.”

“Can you stop?” You snapped loudly, pulling your eyes away and feeling tears form. The four beers really were too much, three would’ve been just fine, “I don’t need your fucking judgment, Angus, that’s a new low.”

The double standards were there again.

“Not judging,” he mumbled, “just think you can do better, is all.”

“And what? What’s better for me? Tell me. Are you better? A boy who just insinuated I’m some… slut!” You shifted in your spot, sitting sideways so you could look at him with fire burning in your eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that Slater and Pickford were descending the moon tower and giving you both space.

Angus stared at you dumbfounded at your question as he dealt with the consequences of his poor wording, lips slightly parted, but he wouldn’t say it. You wished he would, confirming the feelings out loud that you two had been dancing around for weeks.

The silence was thick and nauseating. 

“That’s what I thought,” your voice cracked, “you’re a fucking asshole, Angus. I hope you know that and live with it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Without allowing him the space to say anything, you scrambled to your feet and got the hell out of there. You could hear him calling down for you as you carefully made way down the ladder, shoving past Slater and Pickford, who had been waiting at the bottom. Tears stung your eyes and dripped down your cheeks as you felt the world’s weight on your shoulders.

Kaye was right. This was a man’s world and there was nothing you could do to change that, the cards were never in your favour.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as you walked through the wooded area in hopes to find your friends, or maybe a bottle of water at the very least. A familiar feeling hit the back of your throat as your mouth pooled with spit—shit.

You made it to a bush just in time, bending over and letting nature run its course as you emptied your stomach with a few heavy gags. If it weren’t for that damned Top Notch trip before heading to the Emporium, you’d be fine.

The night was ruined. You eventually found water from a very generous sophomore who took pity on you, nearly guzzling the entire water back and swishing it around your mouth until you couldn’t taste the acid on your tongue anymore. With embarrassment filling you, you decided that it would best if you just took a break from everything going on.

The world hadn’t felt like it was spinning anymore, but you weren’t very coordinated with your movements. The second the music and laughter sounded distant enough, you fell back onto the grass and looked up at the night sky. The moon tower's distant light made it hard to see the stars.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there, ten minutes or an hour? You just stayed there, fingers splayed in the grass and inhaling the scent of nature. Maybe you’d just close your eyes and sleep there, it’s not like there were any wild animals around… that you knew of.

“Jesus Christ,” a voice interrupted your isolation. Angus’s voice. He sounded worried.

You pouted, throwing both hands over your face, “what do you want?”

“I thought you left, or something happened to you,” his voice was full of disappointment, “you can’t just run off like that when you’re drunk.”

You listened as his footsteps closed the distance between you both, a quiet grunt coming from him as he sat in the grass next to you and laid back.

“I can do what I want,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes covered, as if it would somehow make him leave.

A heavy sigh left his lips, “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all?”

“Look, you can stay mad at me, I get it. I was a total fucking dick and took it too far,” he admitted casually, eyes looking up at the void above you both, “...I’m jealous of Benny.”

That was new. 

Slowly, you dropped your hands from your face, head turning to the right so you could look at Angus. His face was just visible, the moon tower’s light barely reaching beyond the trees that covered you both.

“Really?” Your voice was soft, just barely above a whisper.

Angus looked at you, too, his eyes so soft and sincere. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

“Please don’t make me say it again,” his lips cracked into a smile that was contagious.

You bit the inside of your cheeks as your stomach swirled furiously with a complicated mess of feelings. Love, anger, sadness—arousal.

“It still sucked,” you reminded him, shifting onto your side with your arms bent and acting as a pillow. You weren’t sure you’d ever get that line out of your head, Angus referring to you as nothing but a toy for Benny. Sure, the alcohol and weed hadn’t helped his filter, but that was a deep wound and would need some time to heal.

“I’m really fucking sorry,” Angus whispered, meeting you halfway and rolling to face you, “Seriously. I fucked up.”

“Yeah you did,” you thinned your lips, “but I think I could learn to forgive you.”

That caused a smile to spread on the boy’s lips, “I’ll work really hard. Like, overtime hard.”

“You’re stupid,” you laughed, the air between you lighter and digestible.

“I’m going to break up with Elise.”

Seriously, what the fuck?

“I…” you stuttered, blinking a few times, “really?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his hand reaching forward and resting on your red cheek, “I like someone else.”

His touch made your heart flutter, having been waiting for this intimacy for weeks. Dreaming about it each night as you manifested—praying to god that it would work. You were so desperately in love with Angus Tully that it was laughable.

“Who?” You asked coyly, smiling small and sheepish.

“The prettiest girl at this party,” he smiled, “just so happens to be laying in the grass somewhere with a real troublesome boy. I heard he’s a dick.”

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, “I know who you’re talking about. He is a real dick. The worst, actually.”

Both of you shared a small laugh, smiles reaching your eyes as the world finally felt calm, and you could simply bask in each other’s presence. It wasn’t enough, of course.

“Can I kiss you?” Angus whispered, almost like his voice would disrupt this moment.

“I just, like… threw up,” you crinkled your nose.

“I don’t care.”

Within a matter of seconds, you had been pulled until you were atop him, knees on either sides of his hips and straddling. Lips met in a furious, long-awaited kiss, and you saw stars.

Large hands gripped your hips and held you steady, a tongue flicking against your lips until you got the message and invited him in. It was sloppy, messy and wet, but neither of you cared if it wasn’t perfect. It was like years of pent-up stress and pining finally released, and neither of you would be coming out of this unscathed.

“Angus,” you whined into his mouth, hands pressed against his bare chest where the buttons of his top had undone. Nails scratched the surface of his skin, leaving red marks in their wake, as your body was heavy atop his.

He fed off your mewls of pleasure, lapping up your sounds with his tongue as you both moaned filthy, warm breath into each other’s mouths. You were both desperate for each other’s touch, hands wild as they travelled each other’s bodies.

Your hands lifted to his curls, his unbuttoning your jeans until he could sneak a hand inside.

Cries of pleasure fell from your lips as his fingers pushed into your underwear, leaving you a shaking, shuddering mess that could barely stay upright.

“Angus. I need you,” you whimpered into his ear, lips and hot breath brushing against the shell of his ear. You could feel the bulge in his pants, blocked only by your clothes and the fingers that he’d slipped inside you to coax out your beautiful sounds.

It was raw, passionate and heady. The two of you attacking each other with quick hands until your clothes were either pulled off completely or barely hanging onto your body.

Moans spilled from your lips as you rolled your hips together in slow, sensual movements—crying out into the void as you whimpered his name over and over until you were both met with a pleasant release.

Angus Tully would be the death of you.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Serious question for people who like my writing, how would you feel about me writing for Cole Hauser, specifically Rip Wheeler, Yellowstone, and Benny O’Donnell, Dazed and Confused??

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Hey guys!❤️ how is everyone?

I have a weird idea! I have a prompt that I have fallen in love with, and I want to write for multiple characters! They would all act a little differently I think. So, there’s-

-Shane Walsh

-Wayne

-Billy Hargrove

-Angel Reyes

-Benny O’Donnell

-Tyler Owens

-Jake Seresin…?

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 16

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 16/? 9k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Frustrated by inconclusive endings, Eddie takes a seat behind the wheel. 

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

✏︎ Chapter CW: general angst, paternal angst, drug mention

Thursday, December 12th 1985

Before the first morning bell, Eddie gave Judy at reception his best impression of Wayne over the phone. He wasn’t totally lying, he was in fact, quite sick. Sick of all the taunting looks from meathead jocks. Sick of the way Ms. O’Donnell cleared her throat every five minutes. Sick of waking up so goddamn early. Sick of wasting his time. So after hanging up the phone, he stuffed a few essentials in his backpack and made for the door. 

Like clockwork, Wayne always came home at around 8:10 AM, and though it would be far from the first time he’d skipped school, Eddie would rather not have to explain himself. Besides, he could use a change of scenery. There was no denying winter anymore, the ice he scraped off his windshield made sure to remind him. On a typical hooky day he would drive down to Lover’s Lake and toss open the rear doors, catch a breeze, light a joint, sit back and take in the ripples on the water and the rustling leaves. But that had all frozen over, so unless he intended to burn through his whole tank of gas, he would need to get creative. 

That was how he found himself at Benny’s at 7:58 on a Thursday morning, setting up camp in a booth at the back of the restaurant. He ordered his usual — bacon, scrambled eggs, and a stack of pancakes in addition to white toast. Tossing his fourth emptied sugar packet beside the leaning tower of creamers, he sat back in the sticky, padded seat and took his first deep breath all morning. 

The diner was bustling lowly, a handful of regulars perched on silver, spinning stools at the bar. From the frosted window leeching cool air beside him, he watched the funeral procession of headlights down Washington under a mournful sky. Just another day for the upright citizens of Hawkins, Indiana. From his cozy booth, Eddie sipped the top off his very full mug and smiled to himself. 

Sprawling his belongings around the piping hot plates, he popped on his headphones, cracked open his monster manual, and got to work. The first hour flew by like his pencil across the graph paper. Between the bacon bits that had leapt from hand to page, a formidable lineup of foes was taking shape. Bottom line; the boys were in for a world of hurt tomorrow. He did his best to resign the grease to the flimsy napkins, but by the time he was finished, syrup tacked the gargoyle and gorgon pages together. 

“Anything else I can grab for ya besides the check?” Sheri—according to her name tag—asked with a tired lean as she reached to clear his plates. 

Eddie glanced down sheepishly at his freshly topped off mug. “I uh, think I might be staying for lunch.”

Sheri forced a hot pink smile, catching the fork with her decorated finger when it threatened to slide off the plate. “Y’ want me to get a room set up for you too?” she joked with a wink of her spidery lashes. “Just teasin’ sweetie. You just flag me down when you’re ready.”

Switching out his tapes, Eddie shut the cassette player and stared out the window as the men at the bar tossed their napkins and fished out their wallets. Snow was falling in lazy clumps, clinging to his windshield. Somewhere behind the overcast clouds, the sun was rising steadily. It was dismal, a fitting backdrop for the opening track of Black Sabbath’s Heaven and Hell. Of all the seasons, winter belonged to metal. Like it was made for cruising down a quiet, snow-covered street in the middle of nowhere. Made for drowning out Bing Crosby crooning from the speaker in the corner above him. Tinsel glittered on the small tree perched on a cloud of fake snow beside the cash register. Ornaments on swags swayed to the thump of footsteps passing. Eddie sighed and stared into the changing street lights.

Glancing at his watch he figured you were probably wrapping up the film with second period, knitting your brow and drawing your pen across the papers you were grading. He wondered what you’d think when the bell rang for fourth and you found his seat empty. Would you think he was upset with you? There was a small part of him that hoped so, and another part that hoped you would understand. After all, he was giving you the space you asked for, was he not?

Like a siren, your story—tucked between his notebook and the magazines he’d exhausted twice cover to cover—called to him. Cracking open the plastic spine, he dove headfirst into the typewritten pages.

For the whole narrow path into Rower’s End, Cybelle had sat in the front of the caravan, breathing the briny air unhindered by a barrier. Lazarus admired the brilliant fullness of her smile as she watched the seagulls soar overhead, under the clouds she had only ever seen from above. The sunlight had graced them then, beaming down in golden rays, glinting on the distant waves as they approached the sleepy seaside town. 

Eddie could feel the corners of his mouth tug as Lazarus regaled Cybelle with a story of a time when he’d accidentally taken a crab home with him after spending a day at the beach, followed by an explanation of what a crab was. Cybelle seemed delighted with the prospect of seeing one, even more-so when he told her how he’d discovered the little hitchhiker when it pinched his rear in bed that night. Eddie noticed the way Cybelle leaned closer whenever Lazarus told stories, the way her hand came to shield her bare face with a giggle when he mentioned his rear. The way her delicate, copper fingers lingered over the soft skin of his forearm when she checked beneath his bandage. The wound was healing nicely — no sign of infection and not a thorn in sight. She warned that it might scar, but Lazarus did not appear concerned—rather the opposite actually—as if a strange part of him was pleased with the idea of having something to remember her by. 

As they dipped over the final hill toward Rower’s End, Lazarus told her another story. A dream, rather, of a little cottage in Shantiglade with a full sized bed, and a garden, and a goose egg omelette big enough for two. A dream that would likely never come to pass. Cybelle seemed equally enchanted by it. Sitting back against the boxy, wooden seat of the caravan, she breathed in the salty air and imagined how good it would feel to do so every day. To experience the feeling of sand between her toes, of the ocean at her ankles, of propping her elbow against their shared kitchen table and gracing Lazarus with a naked smile before trying whatever an omelette was. It was good like this too — bumping along under a clear blue sky as Turnip plodded down the scarcely trodded path, watching the wind caress the wild grass and Lazarus’ even wilder curls, hearing his tales and his laughter.

Around the time he would be slumping into his desk in the back of your classroom, the bell dinged over the door of the restaurant. Eddie cranked the volume on his headset to drown out the chatter of a family of four clambering into the booth in front of him. The little boy had brought a pair of plastic drumsticks with him, beating a rhythm on the steel-rimmed table much to the annoyance of his little sister, who was clutching her book the way Eddie was yours. Dipping his few remaining fries into the smear of ketchup, he wondered why they weren’t in school on a Thursday afternoon. As he focused back on the type-written letters, he figured he should be the last to judge. 

Eddie felt for Lazarus, he really did. The way he looked at Cybelle as she emerged from the cave, cradling the ghostfern like a pale, translucent child. The scene was as beautiful as it was somber — waves lapping at the rocky shoreline as the setting sun cast its deep orange hues on both of them. The rocks—slick with algae—had Cybelle stumbling, but Lazarus was quick to offer his arm. She accepted without hesitance, clutching the plant like a bouquet as her deep earthen fingers braced the pale angles of his. He lead her down the cascading stone as if it were a chapel aisle, slow and steady until they reached the flat edge of the water. There—in the golden remains of the day—seagulls dipped and soared over the glittering ocean, clasped hands swayed in the lapping wind, and for a moment, they had everything they came for.  

After what seemed like both a small eternity and an aching second, it was Cybelle who broke away, tracing the ridges of his fingers as hers fell, stating out loud what both of them knew — that night was coming soon. 

The journey back to Torgaard proved easier than the journey out, at least in terms of natural foes. No fenfinks or villainous vines, but the sky seemed to hang much lower. Dark, stormy clouds loomed overhead, casting its pale grey light over the moss curtains outside of Fenwood, over the verdant  forests that shuddered in the gusting wind. There was a tension, a dread looming on the horizon that grew with each passing day. Even Eddie could sense it — the way Cybelle stared out into the swath of shifting green like she was attempting to soak up enough for the rest of her life. The way that Lazarus’ jokes were swallowed the creaking of the caravan. How nights that were once spent laughing over a roaring fire were now spent silently watching its crackling embers.

One day—just a few outside of Torgaard—the sky came crashing down. It sobbed in sheets, heavy enough to soak through Cybelle’s coat, to find the tear in her tent and make a lake of it. Lazarus ushered her inside the wagon, offered her a shirt that fit like a dress, offered to sleep on the floor. Assessing the size of the bed, and then the hard, narrow walking path, it was Cybelle who insisted they share it. She was small enough, or at least that was what she rationalized out loud. Lazarus did not argue. Her logic—unlike her tent—was water-tight. And so she climbed in between the soft linen sheets, tucked herself under the weight of the down blanket, and rested her damp, weary head on a pillow that smelled just like him.

Eddie glanced sheepishly around the restaurant, shielding the binder with his arm as Lazarus climbed in beside her. He hinged on each type-written word, lingering over the ones that stirred a fuzzy feeling. Written with careful attention to the way Lazarus’ chest rose and fell, how stiff their bodies were in hyper-awareness of the nearness to each other. How solid his shoulder felt under Cybelle’s cheek when the corner of pillow no longer sufficed. Slowly, they relaxed into the feeling. Not enough to sleep, but enough for Lazarus to free the arm that she was crushing. Enough to wrap it around her shoulder, to relish in the feeling of her cold nose in the warm crook of his neck.

It was good like this. Better when her fingers draped across the landscape of his pecks, felt his chest rise and fall like waves. Best when they awoke in the morning to the sun steaming in through the small, stained glass window above them. When their giggles shook the wagon. When their eyes met, closer than they’d ever been before. There, in the dim cocoon far outside the turning world, the smile that she had hidden for so long finally grew brave enough to capture his. And by the time they reached the towering stone walls of Torgaard, there was nothing more to hide from one another. 

Eddie flipped the page to find only a black, plastic pocket. He rubbed it with his fingers to make sure it wasn’t sticking to another. When it failed to separate, he sat back and fumed. That was it. There was no more. No ending, no closure.

Sheri leaned against the top of the booth seat opposite him, hand on her hip, shifting between her dirty white sneakers with a tired sigh. “Listen sweetie, I’ve got ten minutes left of my shift. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, but I’ve gotta cash you out before I leave.”

Eddie glanced at his watch, almost 2:00. “Yeah—yeah, no problem. Sorry for the trouble.”

“’S no trouble, just the way it goes around here. Hope you enjoyed your stay,” she said with a wink as she dropped the check. 

After six hours and two meals, Eddie had gotten his fill of watching the world turn through an old, frosted window. His head was spinning enough on its own. With a frustrated huff he peeled his graph paper and manual away from the sticky table before shoving them into his backpack. Slugging it over his shoulder, he grabbed the grease-stained check and made his way to the register. That was when he noticed it — the lonely, half-eaten omelette on the bar.

“Alright that’ll be ten seventy-five,” chimed Sheri. 

Tinsel glittered on the tree. Red, metallic bulbs swayed in the echo of his footsteps. Judy Garland caroled on about a merry little Christmas and he wondered if your characters would ever enjoy anything over their shared kitchen table or if that dream would be abandoned for their duties as well.

“Sir?”

Snapping out of his trance, he fished for his wallet and palmed her a twenty. “Keep the change,” he muttered before turning toward the door with a hoist of his backpack.

Her jaw hung open. “Oh my word, are you serious?” she called to his back, but the bell above the door was the only answer she received.

______

Main Street Vinyls was a ghost town on a Thursday afternoon, and Eddie preferred it that way. Aside from Jerry at the counter, it was just him and his noisy thoughts, accompanied by the slow plod of his own heavy boots as they weeped against the carpet. At least in this store he could escape the onslaught of Christmas tunes. Jerry—old hippie that he was—at least had some sense. Sometimes even sense enough to play some halfway decent rock music, but today Eddie would settle for Neil Young over the jingle bell garbage blasting through every speaker in Hawkins.

Glancing down the rows of plastic cassette spines, Eddie perused the M section as he kicked himself for giving away almost ten dollars. There was an album by a new band he’d only read about in magazines called Megadeth. Turning the tape over in his hands, he examined the cover. Everything about it spoke to him — the skull with its mouth chained shut surrounded by knives and candles, the title — Killing Is My Business. Flipping it over to the back, the phrase continued in haunted red letters …and Business Is Good! 

The change he gave away in a fit of blind stupidity would have easily afforded it and left him with some to spare. With a bitter sigh, he shoved the tape back in its slot, knowing for a fact that the cash register at Benny’s had eaten the last bill he had in his wallet. Padding slowly down the aisle, he began his calculations. 

He had a few regular deals lined up this weekend but would need to dig into his “savings” in the bottom of an old tobacco tin and pay Rick a visit before any of that happened. He might make eighty bucks if he was lucky. Maybe eighty more over the course of the week between the deals at school. Nobody wanted to spend too much time outside this time of year, so the park bench location was always iffy depending on how bad it was. He would resort to other classic meetup spots, like under the bleachers or the back of his van. 

If he networked enough he might have some left over after helping Wayne with the bills. Scanning past the Tina Turner and T-Rex tapes, he wondered how much Wayne suspected about his little business. Surely he had to have some suspicion. Gig money, odd jobs, and oil changes for neighbors couldn’t possibly afford the kind of gear he had, or the ink in his skin, or the cash he contributed monthly. Wayne was sharp, and though he was no saint himself, he shuddered to think what he would say if he discovered his nephew was straying down the same path his brother took.

Peering back over his shoulder, he eyed the Megadeth tapes again—only three in stock—lined up like gifts wrapped in cellophane. They were such tiny things. Small enough to hide beneath his palm, to slide into the pocket of his coat with room to spare. Glancing up at the angled surveillance mirror in the corner of the store, he saw Jerry at the counter, humming obliviously as he stuck price tags on a fresh shipment of tapes. Over the tall shelf that separated them, he expected to meet his own eyes, but instead saw another man. A man he hadn’t seen in quite a while.

Eddie remembered finding a G chord for the first time; how big the fretboard felt in his small hand, how awkwardly his fingers had to stretch, how a larger set of hands had helped him find it. He earned a broad smile when the chord rang out, one he would search for again and again with every strum. 

Sometimes in the late evenings as he crept past Wayne with a lunchbox full of drugs while he was watching reruns of Bonanza on the couch, Eddie would tell himself that at least he wasn’t stealing cars, or drinking himself half to death, or rotting behind county bars. At least he was still in school, something Warren Munson couldn’t say even at sixteen. At least Eddie could say he was trying.

With a bitter shake of his head, he continued down the aisle, leaving the tapes behind for the record bins that lined the walls. Mindlessly he walked his fingers over the cardboard spines, glazing past titles he’d seen a dozen times. Nothing new. Nothing different. Few things ever were in Hawkins. Every day he’d wake up and slog himself to a different type of prison, sit in a classroom for eight hours and actively feel his brain rotting. He would crumple up his failed tests and shove them in his backpack, endure the stares from kids whose parents cared enough to give them a ride to school, day after day. And every day he would come home and see the twinge of pride on Wayne’s face for the fact that he’d gone at all.  

There were a few perks to sticking around, like running his club, and saving lost sheep, and seeing his friends everyday. Like having a swath of potential customers all in one place. It was safe and familiar, like a cage. His little business might be dangerous and criminal but at least it could afford him one thing he valued even more than ink or gear — freedom. Time, for another thing. Flexibility. It sure as hell beat making three dollars an hour flipping burgers or having to answer to some corporate boot-licker telling him what to do. Eddie huffed sharply, wondering what you would think if you knew. You, with your tightly buttoned blouses and endless patience. You, the very last person he wanted to disappoint. 

The last look he’d seen on you destroyed him when he thought about it; the pain in your eyes and bitter line your pretty lips became. You were just about the only reason he had left to show up to class anymore, and now that was getting in the way of the one thing that actually had potential in his eyes. Way more potential than a stupid piece of paper that says, congratulations, you’re a real member of society and not a complete disappointment. 

You had asked him a question back when you’d first made the arrangement to help him, one that rattled around in his brain ever since. Why did he want to graduate? If his memory served him, he’d given a relatively bullshit answer: to prove all the assholes in this god-forsaken purgatory wrong. It still held a fair amount of truth, but when he glanced up at the surveillance mirror again and saw himself this time, the real answer was abundantly clear. But was proving a point worth the risk of losing you?  

The smell of cardboard and cellophane kissed his face as air puffed between each record falling forward. Each a different picture, some repeats of the same. Rock gods wielding wicked weapons, bathed in holy stage lights somewhere in New York or Los Angeles probably. Somewhere important. Sometimes at the Hideout he would close his eyes and imagine he was on one of those stages, but when he would open them as the last note rung out, it was always the same — just Bill and Drunk Sam, maybe a couple of bikers perched at the bar with their backs to him. Empty stools and sticky tables. A weak applause.

Eddie stepped back from the record bin with a heavy sigh and glanced at his watch. He’d killed about thirty minutes in this store, which meant he had at least twenty more before he could return home without triggering Wayne’s suspicious questions. The walls were starting to close in around him — posters like windows into a world far out of reach. Every million dollar strum reverberating through the speakers like a mocking reminder. With a half-hearted wave to Jerry stocking shelves, he left the store. Empty handed. 

The drive down Randolph was always dismal, especially in the bleak winter light. Storefronts with yellowing signs that hadn’t changed in twenty years selling mattresses and televisions. A gas station with a rusted awning, dusted with snow. Architecturally speaking, the church was about the most interesting building, but only because it was brick and made up of more than just four flimsy walls. Even that was being generous though. The most exciting thing to happen to Hawkins since the housing development over by Factory Lane thirty years ago was the shopping mall that opened this past summer. Thrilling. 

No matter where he drove within a fifty mile radius, it was all the same — a tomb where dreams went to die. 

Gripping the steering wheel, he watched the car in front of him make grooves in the dirty slush, hypnotized by the spray off the sides of the tires. It wasn’t until he saw the high school approaching in his peripherals that he even looked up. It always felt good to be on the other side, especially when he wasn’t supposed to be. He could almost see you in there; brushing the chalk off your hands, shifting between your tired feet as you glanced at the clock, gazing out the window with a longing he’d seen in his own reflection — caught sometimes at night in his drivers seat window as he cruised the highway, dreaming of where it could take him. 

As the squat fortress faded in his rearview mirror, he pictured you five years from now. Ten. Twenty. Wasting away in front of that chalkboard. Rattling on about stories written by dead people while your own collected dust inside a closet. While your talent withered like the dead, crumpled leaves under the snow; buried and forgotten. 

With a hard right onto Prospect, he set out on the final stretch towards home. Sometimes he liked to imagine what might happen if he just kept going, just drove into the sunset and only stopped for gas. He had a vague idea from the movies and the maps that swayed in the wake of Ms. O’Donnell’s lumbering footsteps. Sometimes in the height of his boredom he would lose himself in them, imagine he was at a diner in the desert on his way to a gig with an actual sound system. Because somewhere out there—beyond the flat horizon—there were mountains, and canyons, and cities where names couldn’t follow. 

______

“How does it end?” Eddie asked you on Friday between the fourth and fifth period bells. You glanced up from the stack of papers on your desk, cocking your head with narrowing eyes. “Your story,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Blinking, you sat back to ponder. “You know, I don’t think I ever fully decided. Cybelle is in a difficult position. The whole reason she set out on this adventure was to save her brother. I imagine she would want to fulfill her quest, but if she returned to Myrne, it may be difficult to leave again. Plus, she may receive some sort of punishment for leaving in the first place. I had written the laws to be quite strict, if I recall. And then if she chose not to return, her mother would lose two children. No matter what, she loses.” 

Eddie furrowed his brow, shifting between his boots with a pained sigh. “I would hardly call a life with Lazarus losing. She seems happy with him.”

“Right, well, of course that would be ideal, but…” you tsked, “it’s complicated, and honestly that’s partially why I abandoned it. I really wrote myself into a corner. Well, that and student teaching started to eat up my time. Then it was finals, and moving, and then after that I met…” you trailed off with a bitter shake of your head. “Anyway, I guess life got in the way. It has a way of doing that, I’ve noticed.” 

Eddie looked at you, really looked. You, in your cable knit sweater with pen on your hand and sandbags under your eyes, casting them down over your work with the same amount of hope he’d seen from players rolling threes with even fewer hit points to spare. He racked his brain for something he could offer—a dramatic death speech or a new character sheet—but you weren’t playing and he wasn’t prepared. Any words of comfort forming on the tip of his tongue were swallowed by the ringing bell, and he exited your classroom feeling the same as when he entered; unsatisfied. 

______

It was starting to close in around you — the colored lights and ornaments, the mall Santas and fake green swags draping from shop windows. It was the first Christmas you’d truly spent in Hawkins since you graduated college, outside of day trips for visits. Surprisingly little had changed, the main thing being the fact that there even was a mall for Santa to post up in. Duplication must have been one of his many powers because he was still at Sears too, at least he was on Saturday when you dragged yourself out of the oppressive quiet of your apartment and into the bustling chaos. 

You had no idea what to get your relatives for Christmas. You never really did, but this year it seemed insurmountable. This year you had no one to bounce ideas off of, and the constant mental chatter left little to no room for inspiration. As you scanned the shelves of cookware and appliquéd dish towels with snow men and reindeers, nothing really seemed to jump out at you.

What did jump out at you—or rather, jumped out at his sister—was a little boy across the aisle hiding in a circular rack of women’s bath robes. Pressing apart the terrycloth like curtains, he would retreat into his makeshift cave to the complete oblivion of his mother, who seemed more preoccupied with the price tags on a set of lingerie than with the whereabouts of her children.

A fantasy tugged at the corners of your mind, more sinfully indulgent than the one you had in class last week involving your desk and Eddie’s tongue. This time the set was the same as the scene before you, only the little boy had a mess of dark curls and Eddie was diving in after him. Not to scold him, but to play. You could almost see those fraying knee holes widening from contact with the carpet. Almost hear the giggles and the shushes and the click of his rings against the metal pole in the center of the rack for balance. You could almost turn around and see them popping out at you, feel the laughter ripple up through your very full belly and into the corners of your eyes as you feigned surprise to both of their delight. You could almost feel the glares from the other shoppers, the regular people eager to get on with their Saturday in peace, same as any other. It wouldn’t matter though, not in your little world.

The real mother in the real world did eventually turn around, grabbing the boy by the wrist and demanding he stay by the cart. Turning a dish towel over in your palms, you lowered your eyes to the machine-embroidered stitching of a corn cob pipe and a button nose as the fantasy disintegrated. You left the store shortly after, your cart just as empty as when you’d arrived. 

On Monday it was hard to look him in the eyes. It was easier to meet Diane’s. At least this week you could hold a conversation without crumbling like Ms. Click’s half-eaten fruitcake up for grabs in the teachers lounge. But the coffee was bitter on your tongue, like a lie you were telling yourself. 

In accordance with your wishes, there had been no rap of knuckles on your door frame after school, no screeching of chair legs dragged across the tile, only the dull thud of folders sliding into your bag, the surprising click of a magnet under the flap. 

On Wednesday you left behind footprints in the parking lot before it had even half cleared, only to be swallowed by the emptiness of your apartment. You filled the space with what you could manage — an early dinner, and an early bedtime. Sleep seemed to be the only thing that quelled the battering ram thoughts, the scales tipping back and forth so much it made you queasy. You would lie there and dream of swirling smoke and plush lips, of arthritic fingers punching numbers on an office phone as you sat and accepted your fate. You would toss and turn, back and forth until your sheets became a tangle, and when you faced the mirror Thursday morning you barely recognized the person staring back. 

When the final bell rang on Friday, the hallways cleared out like someone had yelled fire. A mass exodus of students and staff, flowing into the parking lot like a tidal wave outside your classroom window. You watched them as snow fell in clumps, as bright colored backpacks disappeared into the back of sedans, as cars peeled out like a parade into the street. 

Assessing the paper mountain range framing your desk, you made an educated guess at how you would be spending your two week break. In hindsight, it might have helped to make the due date for the senior creative writing project last Friday instead, but deep down you knew you would have hardly made a dent by now. 

When Ms. Click popped her head in to wish you a merry Christmas on her way down the hall, she seemed surprised to find your hand still moving across paper, not swaddled in mittens like hers. You brushed it off with something casual, the type of thing any regular person would say before the holidays. That it was too much to take home. That getting work finished now would leave more time with your family. You omitted the more personal details like how empty your apartment felt and the small, naked tree your mother brought over last weekend. This seemed to placate her, and with a cheery wave she left you in the silence of your classroom with only the ruffling of paper for company.

It was eery how quiet it was, but it afforded you a small hill of graded papers in the last hour, double what you would typically accomplish in front of the television. Thumbing through what remained of that stack, you counted each staple. Five, six, seven… you stopped when a certain name jumped out in MLA format. 

Eddie Munson American Literature — 4th Period 20 December 1985

No title. 

Papers fluttered to the desk as they fell from your hands, leaving only his. You held it gingerly between your fingers, as if it was alive. As if it could feel you, or rather, you could feel him through every type-written letter, through the thumb-sized grease stain in the top righthand corner. You could almost hear him too, shifting into a deep, dramatic narration.

Mount Myrne loomed on the horizon like a dark omen. Towering over the bustling docks of Torgaard, it disappeared beneath the ominous clouds with a formidable presence. Merchants scattered about, hauling their wares in heavy crates and barrels onto the many zeppelins. 

This was where Lazarus first met Cybelle. In his mind’s eye he could almost see her stumbling about in her clean silk boots and glimmering gold coat. But her appearance today told a different tale. Her boots were caked with mud, her coat was splattered with muck and tattered by claws, her mask hung crooked on her face. Those large eyes that once glimmered with hope and wonder now stared off into the distance with oppressive sadness at the looming mountain. 

This was where he was supposed to leave her. This was what they had agreed upon many moons ago. Cybelle just stood there, shifting back and forth between her tired feet as she dug her thumbs under the straps of her heavy knapsack that now held the rare and precious ghostfern. She finally had what she came for. Any moment now she would be moving those muddy boots toward the docks and use what little coin she had to barter a one-way trip back home.

That was the plan anyway..

Cybelle was frozen though. Fearfully, woefully, bitterly, she gazed upon her gold gleaming home in the sky with a sadness that was only dwarfed by Lazarus looking down at her. He looked at her beautiful face like it was the last time he was ever going to get the chance to. He memorized it in his mind as he shuffled his own dirty boots against the cobblestone. He didn’t have eyes for anything else. Not the zeppelins, nor the merchants, nor the mountain. Only her. After a moment that felt like an eon, Cybelle took a step forward.

“Wait.” said Lazarus. Cybelle turned around with surprise but also a hint of relief. “You don’t have to do this.”

Cybelle looked up at him with a mournful frown. “Of course I do, my brother will die if I stay here.”

Lazarus shook his head bitterly. “No, he will die if the ghostfern stays here.” he said.

Cybelle sighed as she looked out across the docks, “But how is it going to get there if I do not deliver it? No one is allowed within the city walls if they are not from Myrne.”

Lazarus furrowed his brow as he watched the merchants at work, hauling their wares aboard the large, formidable aircrafts. Suddenly he had an idea. “There are docks in Myrne, correct? And Myrnish merchants who take goods into the city?”

The gears were starting to turn in Cybelle’s head. “Yes, there are.”

“Well then, can we send the plant with like, a note or something? Some instructions and directions for the merchant to take where it needs to go?”

Cybelle thought for a moment. “I do know a few of the merchants by name. Arturo and I grew up together. He was my neighbor for a long time. He would know where it needs to go, and my mother would know what to do with it.” The brightness in Cybelle’s eyes dimmed suddenly as she had another thought. “But… I would never seen them again. My family.”

“Never say never, Cybelle.” Lazarus said. “Do you know that for a fact?”

Cybelle frowned heavily, “The laws in Myrne are very strict.”

“What if in the letter you told your family to meet you on the docks some other time? Perhaps in another moon or two once your brother has recovered?” Lazarus offered.

Cybelle sighed bitterly, “Only merchants are allowed on the docks. It is strictly prohibited. I was only able to come here because I snuck inside a crate. It was a miracle that they didn’t notice me.”

Lazarus kicked a stray pebble and huffed. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I cannot tell you what to do, Cybelle. Only you can make that choice. But what I can do, really the only thing I can do, is tell you how I feel.” 

All of a sudden there was a knot in his stomach. Because if he was going to say anything he knew that this would be his last chance.. 

“All my life I’ve dreamed about that cottage by the sea with the garden, and the bed, and the omlet. When I saw that pendant you were wearing I knew that it would be my only shot at ever getting what I wanted. Magic tricks are….. not exactly lucrative. And actually, if I’m going to be totally honest here, I figure you should know the truth about me. The whole truth.” Lazarus sighed, swallowing the bile creeping up his throat at the mention of the truth. He was going to be honest though. Maybe for once in his whole life. “This is difficult for me to say, but I owe it to you if nothing else. I’m a thief, Cybelle.” 

Lazarus winced at his own words and Cybelle’s fallen expression, but he bravely continued..

“I confess that for a moment when I first saw you I thought about stealing that pendant, but once I heard your story and saw so much of my own I simply couldn’t. There is a goodness in you that I admire, how selfless and pure your cause is. Over the course of the last few moons I have had the privilege of spending with you, I have come to discover how beautiful the woman beneath the mask truly is. How kind, and curious, and patient you are. I have been all over this land. Traveled far and wide, through forests and over mountains. I have swam in lakes and oceans and gazed out over countless valleys. But never has the world looked quite so hopeful than when I saw it through your eyes. It made me believe that if you could see the beauty there, if you could see the goodness in me, then perhaps I can as well.”

It was startling — the tear that leapt over your lash line. Violently enough to hit the page, to blur the Os in goodness. 

“If you choose to stay I promise you that I will never steal another coin or pocket watch. It may leave me poor for the rest of my days but if they’re spent with you, then I would be the richest man of all. It is all that I can offer you. My honesty, and a promise that I will show you more beaches, more mountains, more of the world than you could ever imagine. And since I intend to keep my promise, here is my honesty: I love you. Regardless of what you decide.” 

With a trembling hand, you turned the page only to discover there was nothing on the back. Sitting back in your seat with a ragged sigh, you stared out into your empty classroom. Your nose stung, fluorescents flaring in your tear-blurred vision. Separating the pages with your thumb, you flipped back and read it again. The last paragraph. The last two sentences. Those three type-written words. Over and over, wedging in the cracks of your armor as your sniffles echoed off the tile. 

The sun was dipping below the treeline, flooding the near-empty parking lot with a wash of somber pink. The snowfall had ceased, settled into the footprints and tire tracks. Glancing up at the clock and back down at the papers, you tried to imagine lifting another, scanning over sentences and writing in the margins like you hadn’t been completely upended by the one that trembled in your grasp. You couldn’t. 

Tears dripped down your cheeks as you donned your coat, as you shuffled overstuffed folders into your satchel and slung its weight over your shoulder. You swiped at them with your scratchy wool sleeve, flicking off the lights and shutting the door.

The soft pink had cooled to twilight blue when your boots met the blanket of snow, leaving tracks in the clean, fresh powder. Your breath trailed behind you in heavy clouds. It was quiet here too, barely a scattering of cars in the parking lot. Not even the wind disturbed the limbs of the orderly saplings between the curb and sidewalk, dusted with a glittering powder. 

Your hands found your keys, and the key found the hole, and soon you were sliding into your frigid leather seat, tossing the weight of your satchel on the passenger’s side with a dejected thump. You sat there a moment with only your breath for company before flicking your wrist at the ignition. 

Nothing.

Stomping on the break, you lurched forward with conviction this time, as if you could convince it you were serious. All it awarded you was a weak, persistent click. It’s fine, you told yourself through gritted teeth as you lunged again, snapping your wrist with a startling anger, like the seal had been cracked on a two liter pop bottle that had rolled around in the trunk for a week and a half. Still, nothing but a pathetic click. A split second thought crossed your mind—that the ferocity of your stomp might actually damage the car—but the logic was quickly snuffed out by your rage. The hard plastic key bit into your numb fingers. Over and over — stomping, twisting, cursing. Cursing yourself most of all for being stupid enough to let this continue for months. You were paying for it now. 

The tears were already waiting, primed behind your eyeballs, hardly dried on your cheeks when you left out the back door. They spilled over again, cooling as they dripped past your lashes, down the slope of your nose. One more time, you begged. Just one more time and I’ll be good, I swear. But the white Chevy Nova sat unmoved, offering only a vacant whine where there should have been a roar. You tossed back in your seat and huffed, chest heaving, filling the cramped space with the furious steam of your breath. 

Snowflakes glittered in the floodlights, shining like flares through the blur of your tears. It might have been beautiful on any other evening — one where the engine was warm, and your mind was clear, and your heart didn’t sink like a pit in your chest. It was hard to notice anything outside your bitter sobs, most especially the shadow that appeared in the window beside you. The rap of rings on the glass had you jumping, whipping your head to face the set of eyes you’d been avoiding most of all. 

“Need some help?” Eddie offered, bracing his knees in a crouch, eyes brimming with concern. 

Your stomach twisted with relief, then embarrassment, then a million other things rolled into one, sick knot. Wiping the evidence from your cheeks with a futile swipe of your sleeve, you cranked down the window with your left hand. You must have looked like an absolute basket case, jerking your arm in tight circles as the barrier lowered with the urgency of a tortoise. When where was enough space for him, Eddie braced against the top of your door and ducked his head inside. 

“Hey.” The warm sigh of his greeting kissed your cheek, thawing the sting of the cold. 

“Hey,” you mimicked, sounding just about as stable as you felt when it came out. “W-what are you doing here so late?” 

“Hellfire,” he stated simply. “You know, I could ask you the same question.”

Despite how true it was, it still felt pathetic when the answer left your lips. “Just… trying not to take so much work home with me.” You said it as casually as you could muster, but your voice betrayed you. Your cheeks were still cooling from the remnants of your tears, framing the heat from your dripping nose. 

Eddie suddenly looked very serious, splintering your armor with his softness. “You ok?” 

You gestured dejectedly at nothing, offering a hollow laugh. “No.”

Eddie filled the cabin with his sigh, eyes narrowing like he wanted to lunge through the window. Instead he just thumbed at the rubber and tipped his head closer, creaking your chest plate with the weight of his gaze. “You know, I could hear you clear across the parking lot,” he joked softly. “The car—I mean. Mostly. You leave your lights on or something?”

You shook your head. “It’s been doing this for months, ever since it started getting cold. I should have taken it to get checked out, but it usually starts after a couple tries.” 

“Sounds like it might be the battery, or maybe the starter. I won’t know unless I try and jump it. I’ll swing around—if—if that’s ok.” 

The wind ushered a curl toward his lips, and you clenched your hand to subdue it. “Yeah, it’s ok,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

With a nod, Eddie ducked out of the window and pivoted swiftly on his heels. From your side view mirror, you watched him make tracks in the blue snow with his heavy boots, hands shoved in his pockets as he glanced left and right, the ghost of his breath trailing closely behind. The seat creaked as you sat back and blinked like the cursor on a computer monitor; processing. One glance in your rearview mirror told you how disheveled you looked. Even in the twilight there was no masking the puffiness around your eyes, the mascara bleeding toward your cheeks. You swiped at them again, this time with a napkin from your glove box.

With a yank of the frigid handle, Eddie slid across the plaid and pleather padding into the drivers seat of his van. He froze for a second, glancing in his rearview mirror toward your small white sedan. Butterflies tore through his stomach, churning like a tornado as he flicked the ignition. Out of all his ridiculous fantasies, he hadn’t entertained this one. Not exactly anyway. One where you were the damsel in distress. One where he got to be the hero. 

The parking lot was vacant enough to drive across the lines. Ploughing through the naked patches where cars had spent the afternoon, he rumbled up beside you. Your stomach did a summersault when he stepped out, plodding around to the front of your car with jumper cables slung under his arm. 

“Can you pop the hood for me?” he asked.

The summersault rippled south through your abdomen. Reaching down under the console, your fingers found the leaver and obeyed. You felt kind of useless, just sitting there while he propped the hood onto the stand, shielding him from vision. Before you could form another thought, your hand was moving on its own, finding the plastic leaver of your door and opening it to the cold evening air. 

Eddie gave a shy look from behind his curtain of curls before stepping back with a nod. “Well, good news, there’s no monsters,” he joked. 

A smile cracked across your face, so genuine it almost felt foreign. You tucked your hands into your pockets, stepping closer to assess the engine like you knew what you were looking at. Your aura prickled with proximity, like his heat could thaw you even from where you stood. Eddie’s glance was soft and quick before procuring a small flashlight from his inner coat pocket. He held it in his teeth, flipping up the red and black plastic covers on the battery terminals. 

“I have hands too, you know,” you said with a smirk.

With a playful side-eye, he clamped the appropriate cables onto the terminals. Removing the silver torch from his mouth, he made room for his retort. “Mmhm, best keep ‘em warm. It’s uh, kinda chilly out.”

You shook your head as a laugh escaped your nostrils in a plume. Sauntering over to his van like a dark knight, Eddie leaned in the door to pop his own hood. Your boots made tentative tracks in the snow, drawn like a magnet as he hoisted the metal. From the light pinched in his teeth you could see the expanse of the massive engine, the shadow of his furrowed brow as he unscrewed plastic knobs. What you saw more than anything though—like a filter laid over the scene—were three type-written letters. The hands that typed them fumbled with the cables, squeezed around the thick, jaw-like clamps. When they bit right where he wanted, they released; tendons flexing, knuckles pinking from the freezing air. Reflexively, he wiped them on the chest of his black hoodie peeking out from his open coat. 

It might have just been the cold, but even in the twilight—in the absence of the flashlight he was tucking into his pocket—you could have sworn his cheeks flushed when he caught you staring. “Alright, um, go ahead and start your car. I’ll do the same.”

Following the tether that joined the two vehicles, you did as he told you. Nothing came of it though, just more incessant clicking. Exasperated, you tossed back in your seat before slumping out of the car once more. 

“Shit, it must be the starter. Probably cracked, that’s my guess anyway by the sound of it,” Eddie explained as he stepped around to face your engine again. Clicking his flashlight, he peered into the compartment. “See, if you follow the positive terminal line all the way down, that’s where the starter will be. Only problem is it’s tricky to get to without a lift.” 

You followed his grease-stained finger down the dirt-dusted tangle of tubes, drawing nearer under the subtle guise of interest in your engine. You stopped just inches from his solid leather frame, close enough to brush him with your elbow. “You seem to know your way around a car.”

He huffed, shaking his head as he muttered. “Wish I didn’t.” But before you could comment, he was shutting the hood. “I’m sorry, but I think we’re gonna have to call a tow truck.” 

Your defeated sigh rose toward the clouds as you glanced at the squat school building. The lights were off. Judy’s car was absent from the lot, as were all but a handful, including the two of yours. Glancing at your watch under the floodlights, the big hand tipped past the golden dot where a five should be.

Eddie stepped closer, filling the gap with a heavy exhale before meeting your eyes. “You know I could, um—” he scratched the back of his neck, words evaporating quicker than his breath. What could he do? What could he really do about any of this? For most of his life he’d been a leaf on the wind, scuttling across the pavement toward the gutter, struggling to steer himself away. But you were stranded, and if there was anything he was good for, it was a ride. “I could—I could take you back to your place. If you’re ok with that, I mean. We could—fuck—I mean you could call from there a-and I could—”

There were chinks in your armor, cracking with each bumbling word. You looked at him, really looked. Eddie Munson, with grease-stained hands and eyes that pierced like arrows in their pleading. Straight through to the softest part of you, the place between your ribs that cries I want. And oh, how desperately you wanted. Wanted to soothe his worried lips in yours again, to feel his pounding chest again, to be thawed by his heat again. But you just stood there, frozen.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his open coat, he shifted on the balls of his feet as he searched for more words in the snow. “Look, I know you said you wanted space, a-and it probably seems like—shit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing with a sharp sigh. “I just want to help you. Will you just let me help you? Please?”

Your chest plate clattered to the concrete, gauntlets falling in a heap beside your greaves. There was no white flag to wave. No sword to relinquish, or shield to discard. Your surrender was nothing but a soft “okay,” barely heard above the howling wind. 

______

A/N: After over a year and 100k words, the smut chapter is finally upon us! Thank you for coming with me on this very long journey and sticking it out. I have no idea how long this next one is going to take me to write, but I can promise you that when it’s finished you will experience every moment in exquisite, delicious, poetic detail. 

You might have noticed that I’ve pulled a few small details like character names and places from Flight of Icarus, but I will not be retconning any of Eddie’s backstory. 

Also random, tumblr decided to make that one paragraph bold once I changed it to chat font with no ability to unbold it, but that wasn't intended. It kind of worked though so I'm not mad.

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @raccoonboywrites @storiesbyrhi @trashmouth-richie @keeponquinning @munson-blurbs @blueywrites @alottanothing @bebe07011 @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @mrsjellymunson @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @barbiedragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @sllooney @lunaladybug734 @callingmrsbarnes @ajkamins

[mayemperess]

Dazed and Confused is an underrated movie, and it’s fantastic. Just rewatched and love it. Need more fics for those characters lol

Like Benny O’Donnell and Fred O’Bannion omg

[unculturedswine-101]

I’m the fox you’ve been waiting for! (Benny O’Donnell x reader)

A/N: So yeah there isn’t rly an audience for this, but I’m having a good time so I’ll keep going (also holy shit, so many typos in the first chapter - in all fairness I was baked and they are fixed). Also making small alterations to the original plot, doesn't change the main story whatsoever.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2:

Standing outside you and the rest of the soon-to-be seniors, began loading the incoming freshman into the back of the trucks. “Wake up bitch, wake. Up. Open” Darla shouts at the freshmen while shoving binkies in their mouths. “Okay, open wide” you sigh doing the same in the back of Shavone’s truck. You soon notice a girl staring, “Hey you! Come here” You call to the brunette, who stares wide-eyed. “You! Who are you?” You ask as she comes forward “Uh, nobody I mean I wasn’t on the truck” she says referring to the trucks of her fellow classmates. “Are you freshman?” I ask “Yeah” she answers “Well are you in or out?” you ask, putting an arm around her shoulders “In” she smiles. All three of you sparked up cigarettes so that you could one, look intimidating to the younger girls and two, take the edge off for the humiliation you were about to bestow.

Darla begins by ordering the girls to lie down in a circle around us, she places her hands on her hips with a nasty scowl on her face - deeming her the ringleader in this afternoon's activities. ''You disgusting little sluts…AIR RAID!'' The girls hastily roll themselves onto their stomachs, dissatisfied she yells once more ''That was pitiful! On your feet, you lazy little bitches!'' Darla drills them a few more times, each with more gruelling insults than the last.Until she sighs, Well, we tried, we gave you a chance..but since you, little PRICK TEASES can't quite follow instructions, we're going to have to try something else…Seniors?'' She nods at you, and the others ''You love us. Smile, you love us.''

As everyone began grabbing the various ''supplies'' for today; eggs, flour, honey, ketchup and mustard, to name a few. You opted for ketchup and honey, giving generous squirts to all the cringing faces on the ground. As cruel as it was, you had to admit, there was something kind of fun about it being a ritual that you were finally on the other end of. In a way, it felt like payback.You see Jodi, pick out the girl you spoke to at the middle school. So you choose another sitting on the ground, and look around at the various cliques of boys around the parking lot.

Halfway through your scan, you spot Benny in the back of his truck, along with Hudson and O'Bannion on the other side of the parking lot. Although you could pretty much any guy, you wanted, there was something about Benny that intrigued you. You both had never really spoken about it, but it the way he would constantly look to see if you were in the stands at his games, or the way you would always look for him at a party…just to know he was there - that you both realized there was this sort of this ''unspoken thing''. But you were tired of the flirty exchanges you would occasionally have and wanted to see how far you could push him into asking you out.

You quickly made a beeline for Pink, Don and Slater. You and Don dated for a bit last year, but broke up before the summer of your junior year. And fortunately for you, you would notice how obviously jealous Benny got whenever you two spoke one on one. You plant yourself in front of the guys. Don lifts his eyebrows on your arrival, as you flashed him a flirty smile ''Propose to Mr.Dawson'' I announce, as the girl gets down on her knees. ''Will you marry me?'' She asks in a tentative voice, Don laughs. ''Anything you want'' Pink interjects ''Anything he wants?''. Pink whispers something into Don's ear making him let out a loas guffaw, I narrow my eyes at the two, trying to decipher the surely stupid joke.

While focusing on trying to make Benny jealous, you don't even notice how well its working. He initially shifted his attention when he heard your giggle fill the air, it was one that made him smile every time he heard it (especially because he was the one that made you laugh the most). When his eyes finally land on the source, his smile soon turns to a grimace when he sees who you're talking to. Practically fuming as he watches you throw your head back in laughter, your curls bouncing with it.

You were going to roll your eyes of Don's douchey response of asking her if she ''spits or swallows''. But, you were determind to get Benny to ask you out before Summer started. So you laughed, even as going as far to touch Don's knee as the girl repeated her earlier statement and Don broke out of the tension between the contact and he jokes ''I would definetly marry you!''

Benny knew he had to do something, but he also knew he would chicken out. As much bravado as he excuded, he was terrified asking you out. It was so easy to just keep flirting with you on the off hand at parties or at school, but he knew he wanted more. ''Cmon you pussy go defend yourself!'' O'Bannion yaps, gesturing to you and the guys with his beer. ''Fuck off O'Bannion'' he sighs, taking a swig of his own beer. ''We'll just have to get you tanked tonight, nothing like a little liquid courage'' Hudson pipes up, clinking his beer against Benny's.

You looked over to Benny, checking to see if your not-so-innocent flirting. You felt butterflies in your stomach to see his eyebrows furrowed, sending Daggers into Don’s eyes. You secretly celebrated this little victory, as you told Don to grow up, and wrapped your arm around the freshman’s shoulders to protect her.

Soon enough, the hazing began wrapping up, as Darla ordered everyone to get back in the trucks to go through the car wash. But your mind was plagued with thoughts of Benny, and racing about what he was going to say to you at Pickford’s party last night.

After the girls had been *mostly* rinsed through, one by one you began dropping off the girls at home. You turned to look at the remaining girls, and noticed the girl from earlier. Suddenly, you felt this rush of wanting to help this girl with her highschool experience. You could instantly recall the fear of facing highschool after the hazing, and a soon-to-be-senior showed you the ropes to make you the person you are today. You hop out of the truck, darting your way to the back to help the girl out. ''Hey you need a hand?'' you smiled up at the girl who nervously nodded as she handed her clogs and books to you and stepped out of the back. ''We should hangout sometime'' you suggest, sisterly putting an arm around her wet shoulders. ''Yeah that would be cool'' she smiled, ''Well there's this really great party going on tonight, its supposed to be really fun....'' you hinted, hoping she would ask to come along.

You noticed the excitement in her eyes, ''..Do you wanna come?'' you offered ''Yeah'' ''Yeah? Alright, we'll pick you up around 8, you think that would be okay?'' ''Yeah that should be fine'' ''Alright see you then!'' You wave heading back to the truck. You giggled to yourself, you were so happy you invited her, and at the same time distract yourself from the nerves of this evening.

[dertaglichedan]

Assassination Porn and the Sickness on the Left

If we were leftists and we were to use leftist tropes to editorialize the recent attempt on Trump’s life, then we would frame the assassination attempt in the following way:

We have witnessed for years blatant exceptions to the once common custom that we don’t normalize the imagined killing of any president or presidential candidate and thus lower the bar of violence.

But the Left constantly makes Trump an exception. Now, it as if the imagined killing of Trump had been mainstreamed and become acceptable in a way inconceivable of other presidents.

(Do we remember the rodeo clown who merely wore an Obama mask during a bull riding contest and was punished by being permanently banned by the Missouri State Fair authorities?)

So since at least 2016 there has been a parlor game among Leftist celebrities and entertainers joking (one hopes), dreaming, imagining, and just talking about the various and graphic ways they would like to assassinate or seriously injure Trump:

By slugging his face (Robert De Niro), by decapitation (Kathy Griffin, Marilyn Manson), by stabbing (Shakespeare in the Park), by clubbing (Mickey Rourke), by shooting ( Snoop Dogg), by poisoning (Anthony Bourdain), by bounty killing (George Lopez), by carrion eating his corpse (Pearl Jam), by suffocating (Larry Whilmore), by blowing him up (Madonna, Moby), by throwing him over a cliff (Rosie O’Donnell), just by generic “killing” him (Johnny Depp, Big Sean), or by martyring him (Reid Hoffman: “Yeah, I wish I had made him an actual martyr.”).

Or should we deplore the use of telescopic scope imagery, given that the Left blamed Sarah Palin for once using bullseye spots on an election map of opposition congressional districts, claiming that such usage had incited the mass shooting by Jared Lee Loughner?

Yet, recently POTUS Joe Biden was a little bit more graphic and a lot more literal.

In a widely reported call to hundreds of donors last week, Biden boasted, “I have one job, and that’s to beat Donald Trump. I’m absolutely certain I’m the best person to be able to do that. So, we’re done talking about the debate, it’s time to put Trump in a bullseye.”

"In a bullseye?”

At least, Biden did not go back to the full Biden beat-up porn of the past (e.g., “If we were in high school, I’d take him behind the gym and beat the hell out of him"/ “The press always asks me, ‘Don’t I wish I were debating him?’ No, I wish we were in high school – I could take him behind the gym. That’s what I wish.”).

Then there is the question of the Secret Service and one’s political opponents. Given the tragic history of the Kennedys, why in the world did the Biden administration not insist that third-party candidate Robert Kennedy, Jr. be accorded Secret Service protection? Because his candidacy was felt to be disadvantageous to Biden?

And why just this April would the former head of the January 6th Committee and 2004 election obstructionist Rep. Bennie Thompson (D-Miss.) introduce legislation ridiculously entitled, “Denying Infinite Security and Government Resources Allocated toward Convicted and Extremely Dishonorable (DISGRACED) Former Protectees Act” to strip away Secret Service protection for former President Trump and by this April current leading presidential candidate?

Had Thompson’s bill passed, would that not have been confirmation for a potential shooter to feel his task was just made much easier?

But in a wider sense, if the common referent day after day on the Left is that Trump is another Hitler (cf. a recent The New Republic cover where Trump is literally photoshopped as Hitler), then it seems reckless not to imagine an unhinged or young shootist believing that by taking out somewhat identical to one of the greatest mass murderers in history, he would be applauded for his violence?

So is their logic, shoot Trump and save six million from the gas chambers?

After all, The New Republic defiantly explained their Hitler-Trump cover photo this way, "Today, we at The New Republic think we can spend this election year in one of two ways. We can spend it debating whether Trump meets the nine or 17 points that define fascism. Or we can spend it saying, “He’s damn close enough, and we’d better fight.”

Well, New Republic, recently someone took you up on your argument that Trump was “damn close enough” to Hitler and so he likewise chose to “fight”— albeit with a semi-automatic rifle.

If ad nauseam, a Joy Reid is screaming about Trump as a Hitlerian dictator ("Then let me know who I got to vote for to keep Hitler out of the White House”) or Rachel Maddow is bloviating about studying Hitler to understand Trump, then finally the message sinks in that a mass murderer is about to take power—unless....

Finally, the idea, if true, that bystanders spotted a 20-year-old on a nearby roof with a gun, a mere 130 yards from Trump, and in vain warned police of his presence, is surreal.

Is it all that hard for the Secret Service to post a few agents on the tops of a few surrounding buildings closest to the dais, or at least coordinate with local law enforcement to do the same?

That is a no brainer. Whoever made the decisions concerning the proper secret service security details for presidential events should be immediately fired.

[callmemana]

Dazed & Confused fanfic: 1

Key: smut -🍓/ fluff -🌼/ angst -🐂/ personal favorite - 👓/

Randall “Pink” Floyd:

Cool Nights @twistnet 🍓🌼👓

Slow Ride @honuyoon 🍓🌼👓

Sneaking Around @twistnet 🍓🌼👓

Some Kind of Wonderful @80s4life 🌼👓

Summer Heat @twistnet 🍓🌼👓

Through The Tunnels Series @twistnet (ST crossover) 🍓🌼🐂👓

Don Dawson:

Kevin Pickford:

Benny O’Donnell:

David Wooderson:

[curator-on-ao3]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you so much for tagging me, @divinemissem13! ❤️

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 127

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 660,997

3. What fandoms do you write for? Star Treks, mostly Strange New Worlds, Lower Decks, Picard, and Voyager.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Tuvok’s Secret (G): Tuvok has a secret — and he trusts only one person onboard to keep it. (Kathryn Janeway & Tuvok)

Feet on the Ground (G): Something solid slams into Kathryn’s back. She stumbles forward, bumping Mark, who in turn careens into someone else. Kathryn turns to glare at the probably inebriated party-goer who didn’t watch where they were going. But, instead, she looks up to achingly familiar dark eyes and the curves and lines of a tattoo that Kathryn spent the last eighteen months telling herself she didn’t miss. (Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway)

The Halo Effect (M): Tom Paris and Kathryn Janeway didn’t intend to fall in love. (Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris)

Fly Me to the Moon (E): Kathryn Janeway and Tom Paris never met each other years before Voyager. Never served on a covert mission together. Never fell in love. Never planned a future together. Nope, never happened. Because a secret like that could lead to some … complex dichotomies. (Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris)

Bad Ensign (T): Harry Kim finds out he missed out on an important part of the Starfleet Academy experience. Hilarity and dirty jokes ensue. (ensemble, friendship fic)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes. If someone was kind enough to leave a comment, I’m going to thank them.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I used to not know how to answer this question, but I recently got a kudos on Honey, I’m Home and while that story definitely isn’t “sit down crying” angst, I feel like maybe it qualifies? (Though In the Doorway might also fit under that criteria? Both stories are Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris, but they only get together in one of them.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Either Feet on the Ground or Youthful Exuberance (Some Kind of Love). Feet on the Ground has Janeway and Chakotay finding their way together after their Delta Quadrant trauma (note: Chakotay is afraid to leave the Sol system for fear of getting pulled into the Delta Quadrant again — Prodigy!Chakotay didn’t exist yet when I wrote that but, from what I’ve heard, he could possibly relate). Youthful Exuberance lets our heroes, Christopher Pike and Una Chin-Riley, have all manner of ups and downs, but the tags promise a 100 percent happy ending and I was determined to deliver.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not that I’m aware of, usually.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes. Vanilla because I find that interesting to write. (I’ll read all sorts of stuff.)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I write crossovers within the Trekverse. The two craziest allowed Tuvok and Geordi LaForge to have tea together (Asunder [T] Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris) and Shannon O’Donnell Janeway to tell Benny Russell how much his writing has meant to her (Meeting of the Minds [G] Shannon O’Donnell Janeway & Benny Russell, Kathryn Janeway & Benjamin Sisko).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Other than by ChatGPT, not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, In the Doorway was translated into Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, and am doing so again.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? NCC 1701

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? There’s one I technically finished about Tom Paris and Owen Paris in the aftermath of Owen’s beta canon torture by the Cardassians. But it’s really dark and I don’t know if I’ll ever edit or post it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Adaptability (to prompts), brevity, details.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I’m having trouble lately with voice and lack of vocabulary variety.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If necessary, a beta fluent in the language can be very helpful.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I consider that to be Voyager, but recently reflected on an even earlier fandom for me.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? My most recent fic always holds a place in my heart, so Disarmed (Mirror Una Chin-Riley/Mirror Christopher Pike) is special to me, and also was an interesting mental stretch because I’d never before written sex that the characters think is good but I think isn’t good. But my all-time favorite? Youthful Exuberance (Some Kind of Love). It’s my novel length love letter to Chris and Una, and it means a lot to me.

Tagging: Tumblr has been doing this fun thing lately where I don’t see posts from people I follow. So, if you actually see this, please consider yourself tagged with no pressure. Also, in addition to the wonderful people tagged by @divinemissem13, I’m tagging @grissomesque @fiadorable @emilie786 @genius2mania @lorcaswhisky @enterprise-come-in @marymoss1971 @sun-lit-roses @kejsarinna @iamstartraveller776 @isagrimorie @emonydeborah and the fantastic folks I’m not thinking of right now because I have tag anxiety.

[typingtess]

Tiptoeing through the “Blood Bank” guest cast

Duncan Campbell as NCIS Special Agent Castor Back from “Let It Burn” in late November.

Vyto Ruginis as Arkady Kolcheck Welcome to season 14!  Ruginis was last seen on the beach in “Come Together”, season 13’s season finale.

Kathleen Garrett as Miraslava Borisova Played Judge Nina Larkin in Power Book II:  Ghost and Judge Susan Moretti in Law & Order.

Guest roles include Hooperman, Thirtysomething, Head of the Class, The Outsiders, Shannon’s Deal, Matlock, Home Improvement, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, ER, Phenom, The New WKRP in Cincinnati, Murder She Wrote, Diagnosis Murder, Murphy Brown (1996), The John Larroquette Show, Baywatch Nights, Dark Skies, Touched by an Angel, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Dharma & Greg, Providence, Melrose Place (1999), The West Wing, Beverly Hills 90210 (2000), Star Trek: Voyager, 100 Centre Street, First Monday, Without a Trace, Malcolm in the Middle , Shark, Ugly Betty, Law & Order: SVU, Mysteries of Laura, The Deuce, Billions, FBI, Inventing Anna and The First Lady (she was Laura Bush in one episode).   Announcing her role.  Hanging with Chris O’Donnell. On the set.  

Dalia Rooni as Riffat Murad Was in the series Transportainment and appeared in a few short films. Dressing room photo/photo with Medalion Rahimi.

Nikolay Moss as Kostas Orlov Was in episodes of Gossip Girl, Gringollandia, GodComplx, The Cobblestone Corridor, Betrayed and The Rook.

Jonathan Kells Phillips as Rupert Richardson Was Volk in Condor and played Senator Shawn Kelly in NCIS’s season 13 “Charade” episode.

Guest roles include Law & Order: SVU, Damages, The Mentalist, One Life to Live, True Blood, The Exes, Masters of Sex, Hose of Lies, Madam Secretary, The Americans, Station 19 and Yellowstone.

Matty Cardarople as Danny Cardarople’s Danny returns.  Danny sold pastries in season 10’s “Into the Breach” and computer supplies in “Imposter Syndrome” in season 12.

Emily Morales-Cabrera as Assistant Played Alex in Hot Summer Daze.  Appeared in episodes of The Chi, Danger Force, This is Us, American Horror Stories and The Sex Lives of College Girls.

Written by:  Samantha Chasse co-wrote "Kill Beale Vol. 1" and wrote "Impostor Syndrome" and “Murmuration”.

Directed by: Benny Boom directed "Ghost Gun", "767", "Fool Me Twice", "Pro Se", "Hail Mary", “Groundwork” and “Perception”.    

[ncisladaily]

NCIS INVESTIGATES A SHOOTOUT IN WHICH A RARE CULTURAL ARTIFACT IS STOLEN, ON “NCIS: LOS ANGELES,” SUNDAY, JAN. 8

“Blood Bank” – When NCIS investigates a shootout on a boat in which a rare cultural artifact is stolen, they’re shocked to learn who owns the boat, on the CBS Original series NCIS: LOS ANGELES, Sunday, Jan. 8 (9:30-10:30 PM, ET/9:00-10:00 PM, PT) on the CBS Television Network, and available to stream live and on demand on Paramount+*.

REGULAR CAST:

Chris O’Donnell

(Special Agent G. Callen)

LL COOL J

(Special Agent Sam Hanna)

Linda Hunt

(Operations Manager Henrietta “Hetty” Lange)

Daniela Ruah

(Special Agent Kensi Blye)

Eric Christian Olsen

(NCIS Investigator Marty Deeks)

Medalion Rahimi

(Special Agent Fatima Namazi)

Caleb Castille

(Special Agent Devin Rountree)

Gerald McRaney

(Retired Admiral Hollace Kilbride)

GUEST CAST:

Duncan Campbell

(NCIS Special Agent Castor)

Vyto Ruginis

(Arkady Kolcheck)

Kathleen Garrett

(Miraslava Borisova)

Dalia Rooni

(Riffat Murad)

Nikolay Moss

(Kostas Orlov)

Jonathan Kells Phillips

(Rupert Richardson)

Matty Cardarople

Emily Morales-Cabrera

(Danny)

(Assistant)

WRITTEN BY: Samantha Chasse

DIRECTED BY: Benny Boom

[spatialwave]

𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

“𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒”

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader | benny o’donnell x fem!reader word count: 10.6k summary: school is out, and you’re free of the shackles of education, an entire summer in the horizon. after pickford’s end-of-school party gets busted, boredom and uncertainty strikes. instead of drinking and partying, you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into a love triangle you hadn’t meant to get yourself caught in — what will you do? who will you choose? warnings/tags: underage drinking and drug use, use of homophobic slurs, bullying, verbal assault, jealousy, love triangle. notes: not me writing this and actually getting obsessed with benny (cole hauser). still not beta'd, so apologies for grammatical/pacing errors!

(ao3 vers.) <- chapter one. chapter three. ->

Sharing a joint before coming home was not the smartest decision you’d made in your career as a high school student. The haziness had left your limbs heavy and your mind up in the clouds, your bed so incredibly inviting. In fact, so inviting that the moment you stepped into your room, you had curled up into your bed and nuzzled into the blankets.

Your body was heavy, but floating. All you could think about was Angus Tully, a smile spreading as your fingers pressed against your lips. You were lost in your imagination, mind stuck on wondering what it would feel like with his lips pressed against yours. How his body would feel pressed over yours, hands in his wild curls, legs wrapped around his hips so he’s flush against you. Heavy breaths and the taste of weed on your lips as your tongues brushed together.

Soon, you were far in a dreamless nap until you heard the clanking of pots and pans from the kitchen—your mother cooking dinner. The sleep had left you disoriented, your hair in a mess and arms achy from passing out in an uncomfortable position. You wished to fall asleep again.

With the evening sun moving down into the horizon and the night sky daring to take over, you couldn’t will yourself to get out of bed. All your mind could focus on was the day you’d just had, and you were nearly content with laying back down and imagining it all over again. The afternoon you’d spent with Angus and how you couldn’t wait to see him again, even with the plans of a party falling through. 

You would see him at some point, but when and where? 

Without the effects of weed, you were left with a knot in your stomach, a reminder of how nervous you were about the situation. It was easier to be inebriated and forget about the harsh reality of Angus being a ‘taken’ man, versus you being sober and seeing Elise’s face burned into your head every time you closed your eyes.

Eventually, after a few minutes of fighting off the urge to sleep and reminding yourself you wasted precious time, you forced yourself up in your bed and rubbed away the tiredness in your eyes. It took a forceful push for you to crawl out of bed and placing your feet on your carpeted floor, wiggling your toes as you slowly woke up and came back into your consciousness.

You wobbled over to your dresser and reached to your record player, putting the tonearm down and placing the needle onto the record–Dreamboat Annie by Heart. Your all-time favourite record.

The best decision you made since coming home was a hot shower that nearly burned your skin, ending it off with a quick rinse of cold water to jolt you awake from the grogginess that had consumed you. Music played through the closed door of your adjoined bathroom, lucky enough to score a better bedroom than Mitch, your younger brother. Softly singing along to the muffled sounds of Crazy on You, you dried off your body and let your wet hair cling to your damp skin, eyes looking over your body in the foggy mirror. You often tried not to look at yourself too much in mirrors, a practice that was ingrained into you as a young child from your mother reprimanding you from being ‘too vain’–ah, the joys of living in a catholic household.

Then, before you could act in vain, the pounding of someone knocking on your bedroom door furiously took your attention, and you wondered if your mother found out about you smoking with Angus and Slater. You hurriedly finished drying your body and moved back into your bedroom with the towel wrapped around you, body shivering at the difference in air temperature.

“What?” You snapped at the bothersome knocking, pressing your ear against the door, expecting your mother’s voice and the imminent disapproval of your actions.

“Angus is outside,” your brother’s voice spoke. He sounded tired, but you remembered he’d just gotten home from his baseball game–meaning you hardly had anytime before Kaye would be showing up. 

And here you were, in a towel, and the boy you’d been dreaming about waiting for you outside.

“Fuck,” you whined, hearing the footsteps of your brother move away, “thanks for letting me know!”

You panicked in your room, looking around as you dropped the towel and quickly dug in your dresser for clothes, anything remotely decent for the party. It was hard to slip on with your damp skin, but you’d eventually managed to get into high-waisted denim bell-bottoms and a cropped, flower-print halter top that exposed your belly. It even managed to make you look bustier than normal, you wouldn’t complain about that.

Your hair was still wet as you unlocked your bedroom door and made way for the front, spotting a shadowy figure through the small window on the door. Taking a calming, deep breath, you reached for the door handle and slowly opened it, peaking out of it first before committing to stepping outside.

Immediately, your eyes settled on Angus, the tall, lanky boy leaning against the column that held up the awning over the front door. Those brown eyes flickered up to look at you, a delighted smile adorning his lips as he pushed off the column and shoved his hands into his pockets. With a breathy, nervous laugh, you fully stepped outside and closed the door behind you, pressing your weight back against it as you forced yourself to meet his piercing gaze.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, hands tucked behind your body and fidgeting with them as you kept steady breaths. 

“I brought Mitch back from his ball game and wanted to see what you were up to,” he replied, still grinning shyly, “I know it’s only been a couple of hours, but I was here already. So, yeah… just wanted to pop-in.”

There was that awkward side of him again, a part of him you saw when no one else was around. A shy, awkward kid that you could only imagine was most of his personality when he was younger and far before he’d made it as a popular football player. Though, it was all speculation, you still hadn’t known much about his younger self—you’d love to know.

“Thanks for bringing him back… Did they get him?” You asked, cringing at the mere thought of your younger brother getting caught by the senior boys, exposed to harsh paddling.

“Uh, yeah, unfortunately.” Angus pulled his eyes away, “Kountze is such a prick, I told your brother to ice up for a bit or else he’d be having a hard time sitting for a few weeks.”

“At least he’s home now,” you sighed, arms crossed over your body as you sympathized with your brother’s pain.

Silence rose between you two, and you found yourself unable to look up at Angus. You could see out of your peripheral that it was the same for him, his eyes dropping to look at his feet.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” You asked quietly, an amused expression on your face as you two connected eyes again.

“What? This doesn’t count as something?” He chided in return, stepping closer to you, and you almost wanted to ask if he could reach forward and slip his finger into your belt loop like he did earlier. Tug your hips together and talk some more, shameless flirting. You lived for his attention like it was a drug. 

Craved it.

“It is something, but I’m not sure how productive it is,” you laughed, reaching for the door handle behind you, “do you know if anything is happening tonight?”

Angus crinkled his face, signifying that plans were still a bust, “Not really sure yet. Probably going to drive around and see what’s up I guess, maybe go to the Emporium. I just gotta’ go home and change.”

Silence filled the space between you both again, leaving you dumbfounded and chewing on your lip as you racked your brain with something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid. You were drawing a blank, feeling like a young girl talking to a cute boy for the first time. It was easy for that feeling to come back when you were alone with Angus, a testament to how badly you were crushing on him.

“I should, uh-–” you murmured, clearing your throat as you twisted the knob, “go back in and get ready. Kaye will be here any second, and I haven’t even dried my hair.”

That roused a laugh from Angus, his eyes flicking up to your hair that had started to dry at the roots, a bit all over the place, but he liked the authenticity you displayed. He liked you at your best and at your worst, but this was far from your worst. He found himself wanting to stay put, to ask to go inside and spend the rest of his night hanging out with you instead of out driving around and drinking with the boys. Angus could already imagine what you two could get up to if you were alone—it filled him with excitement.

“I’ll see you later, then?” Angus asked, getting his mind out of the gutter, but not yet moving from his spot. He towered over you with that stupid smile, the one that made you want to wipe it away with your lips.

“Maybe,” you couldn’t help but tease, your hand pressing against his chest and pushing him back playfully, fingers relishing in the brief contact, “go on, I’m sure your boys are missing you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. My boys.” he chuckled, moving down the front steps and walking backward to keep his eyes on you, “Don’t you go missing me too much, alright?”

“I never do!” You called out to him through a big smile, watching as he slipped around the other side of his car and clutched his heart, as though you shot him. So dramatic.

Your feet had stayed firmly planted on the ground, eyes watching as he waved at you through his passenger side window before driving off down your block. You stayed there for a few minutes, watching the setting sun, before realization hit, and you ran back inside to finish getting ready.

Makeup and hair was your focus as you raced the clock, fingers careful as you applied colour to your lips and cheeks, coating your lashes in mascara to brighten the eyes and make you look alive. Those same careful hands moved to your hair, styling it several ways before you settled on something that kept it out of your eyes—nothing fancy. 

As your finger patted on one final layer of colour to your cheeks, after accidentally smudging your face with mascara and needing a fix, you heard the sound of a car honking outside. Quickly, you did one final look over of yourself in your full-length mirror, sucking in a deep breath and smiling. You looked fucking incredible. You were confident. There was nothing that could ruin your night.

“Goodbye, mom! I’ll see you later!” You called you as you slipped out from your bedroom, waltzing down the hallway excitedly. You had hardly seen her today, only at breakfast and a ten minutes earlier when you snuck into the kitchen and grabbed a small plate of food to settle your stomach before the night began.

“Try not to stay out all night, alright?” She called back, you could hear the sound of her doing the dishes, porcelain clinging together as she stacked the drying rack full, “And don’t be loud, you’ll wake up your grandmother.” 

“I promise.” You said, peaking your head into the kitchen to spot your mother, flashing her a smile that simply couldn’t let her be grumpy with you.

“Have fun,” she said to you, rolling her eyes as she put away the last of the dry dishes and watched you slip on your sandals and run out the door, feeling nothing short but free. The two of you always had a great relationship, but as you got older, you could tell that her emotions were starting to get the best of her. Soon, you’d be gone to college and off living your own adult life, she wasn’t ready to let that go yet, and sometimes you had to fight for a night with your friends.

Thankfully, she understood the importance of tonight. She was a senior at Lee High School once.

“Hey! Sabrina!” You cheered, spotting the freshman sitting in the back of Kaye’s Volkswagen Convertible as you jogged out of your front door, eager to get the night started. You slid easily into the passenger seat, settling in and turning on your side to look at the two girls, “how was the car wash?” You asked, a mischievous smile on your lips—thankful you weren’t there to watch the madness.

“Cold,” the freshman chuckled, playing with the ends of her hair as Kaye hit the pedal and the car lurched forward as you made way for a night of driving with the girls, “but I was cleaned off at least. I was starting to feel sick from the smell of mustard. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go to any summer barbecues this year.”

“Hope the other girls weren’t too hard on you,” you hummed in thought, leaning against the seat and watching over the brunette, who seemed much too sweet for her own good. You could already see the heads she’d be turning at school in the fall, you wondered how Darla would make do with it. She reeked of insecurity, the type of girls to get jealous over fresh meat coming in and whisking attention away.

“No, they were good,” she assured, “Then after Kaye dropped me off and invited me along tonight.”

“Wow, she does have a heart,” you spoke in feigned awe, earning a playful shove from Kaye, who glared at you from the driver’s seat.

After the sun fully set beyond the horizon, and you and Kaye had smoked a couple cigarettes and assaulted Sabrina with questions about the upcoming school year, you found yourself watching the scenery that passed by. You’d also mentioned to them how Pickford’s party was busted, unsurprised was that they’d heard about it already. New travelled sickeningly fast.

You smiled to yourself as you enjoyed the cool breeze on your skin from the top of the car being down, relief from the hot sun earlier that afternoon.

“So, you left with Angus early,” Kaye said, looking in the rearview and connecting her gaze with Sabrina, who wasn’t looped into the entirety of the drama, “Right, to get you up to speed, Miss Freshman, your favourite senior here is a conniving, two-timing woman.”

“I am not conniving!” You gasped, swatting at Kaye.

“Kidding! Kidding! I would never accuse you of anything bad. You’re allowed to have options,” She laughed, eyes on the road as you three cruised down random neighbourhood roads, navigating your way downtown to stop at Top Notch. You rolled your eyes, but did not interrupt, allowing Kaye her space to go on. She cleared her throat, “So, to sum it up into one sentence, she’s in a casual, steamy relationship with Benny, but has the hots for Angus, a certified popular quarterback who is already dating Elise… Saying it out loud makes it sound like a cringe-worthy romance movie plot. You are now a walking cliché, I hope you know that.”

Sabrina’s eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to keep up with the information that was being thrown at her, names she’d never heard of and scandals she didn’t quite understand.

“Okay, I would not consider me and Benny to be in a relationship, like, at all. Also, calling Angus a popular quarterback does not do him justice,” you butted in, looking over at Kaye with a quirked brow, “he’s a really sweet guy. He’s kind to me. Not just some popular boy. You know, he doesn’t even like being popular.” Kaye rolled her eyes at your comment, always having another opinion than your own, especially when it came to societal issues.

“That’s the curly haired boy you were talking to, right?” The freshman spoke up, tucking hair behind her ear that was blowing wildly in the wind.

“Yep, that’s him,” you smiled back at Sabrina.

“He likes you,” she smiled, a bit uncertain if her advice was warranted, “I mean, if I were a boy… I’d probably stare at a girl like that if I liked her.”

Redness filled your cheeks at the girl's words of wisdom, which left your stomach in knots.

“But he’s with Elise!” You groaned, letting your head fall back against the seat as you stared up at the night sky, “Love is so complicated. It’s like, does he want me or not? If he does, why won’t he break up with her? I feel so goddamn guilty because of her.”

“Easy, cowgirl,” Kaye chuckled, glancing back at Sabrina and clicking her tongue, “I don’t see why you’ve got your panties in a twist, you don’t even like Elise. I’d go as far as to say you probably hate her.”

“I do not hate her,” you lift a finger, not needing your words to get twisted, “And even if she was the world’s worst person, I would still feel guilty because I’m not a bad person.”

Kaye smirked to herself, fingers gripping the wheel a bit tighter as she listened to your concerns, “So… she does have a heart.” She returned the earlier sentiment.

“You’re an ass,” you groaned, lips twitching into a smile, “What do I do? Sabrina, what would you do?”

You turned in your seat again, eyes locking onto the younger girl and waiting to see what advice she would give. Sure, young teens were inexperienced in all sorts of ways, especially compared to your own, but they always said shit exactly like it was. Wiser than most adults gave them credit for.

The girl thought about it, weighing options in her head, “I would confront him about it,” she advised, “if he does really like you then he’d do something about it… right?”

You kept your eyes on Sabrina, pointing at her with a small smile on your face as you admired her intelligence and common sense, “You’re really smart, kid. You make sure that boys treat you good, okay? And if they don’t, you come and find me.”

“And find a boy that’s not dumb like Benny or Angus.” Kaye jumped in, earning yet another playful swat from you that had Sabrina laughing.

As you all drove down the emptying streets, you felt relief. Sabrina’s words kept repeating in your mind, knowing that the only way through the situation was with confrontation, how was Angus supposed to understand your concerns if he didn’t know what they were? Of course, you hoped that he would break up with her regardless before even attempting to flirt with you, but it’s not like you were the poster child for good morals. In the depths of your mind you kept thinking about Benny—you two were far from dating, having several discussions about keeping it casual, but you feared you two were far closer than what had been said aloud.

It had you thinking of his feelings, knowing that if you wanted to play your cards right and be moral well, you’d have to end things with him. Yet, like the fiend you were, you didn’t want to lose out on your back-up if it all fell through with Angus. 

At least Benny was good in bed.

Could things get any worse?

For distraction, you found yourself singing along to the radio, Black Sabbath, one of Kaye’s favourite bands that you’d grown to like. Hard rock wasn’t your forte, but you’d enjoyed the way you’d grown adept at liking things far out of your comfort zone. So long to the girl who only listened to pop albums, now your mother was concerned you were getting into the wrong crowd when you asked her to buy you an AC/DC record for your seventeenth birthday.

Kaye turned on the road, slowing down as you pulled into the drive-thru, pulling up behind a car full of some soon-to-be junior girls–ordering drinks and snacks for you all to share. That’s when you heard the familiar sound of a truck, your eyes pulling away from the chili cheese fries and toward the rumbling of an engine. None other than Darla and Elise, Shavonne having slipped out of the vehicle and running over to jump into the back beside Sabrina, saying her hellos to you all. She focused on properly introducing herself to the new girl as they indulged in some fries together in the backseat.

You, though, couldn’t pull your gaze away and found yourself in a staring match with Elise. With a clenched jaw, you felt anger course through your veins, a rush of jealousy taking over as your mind swirled with all those ugly thoughts of her and Angus together. Envy. You were morphing into a green-eyed monster.

There was so much pent-up energy in you that you wanted to get out of the car and march on over to confront her. To reveal that even though she appeared so naive and innocent on the outside, she was far from it. Elise was a secret mean girl—at least Darla was a bitch to your face.

“Hey!”

You jumped in your seat and turned to look between the three girls, eyes widening as Kaye took a sip of her Coke and looked between you and the truck that had pulled away from Top Notch. Your short-haired friend was too perceiving for her own good, having witness the entirety of your glaring match with the girls.

“Sorry,” you murmured, looking down at the basket of fries in your hands and deciding to calm yourself with a few bites of the greasy food. You needed to get a grip. You hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol yet, and you were already fearing that tonight you’d be an angry drunk.

“Elise and Darla hate you,” Shavonne said, stealing the large coke from Kaye’s hands, her energy so calm that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that she dropped big news on you two.

“What?” You snapped, spinning in your seat so you were on your knees and facing the two in the back. “What did she say? Shavonne, tell us.”

“I don’t know… you have to promise me you won’t get mad,” Shavonne murmured, blue eyes flickering between everyone, “They said something about both of you,” the blonde shot her gaze over to Kaye, who furrowed her brows in a mix of confusion and semi-offence. Mostly curiosity.

“So, you’re all talking about us behind our backs? I would have never guessed.” Kaye grumbled, though the smile on her lips proved how uncaring she was.

“I’m not saying anything until you promise me that neither of you will get mad,” Shavonne said from her spot, looking between her two best friends.

“I won’t get mad, I don’t care what they think,” you reassured her, eagerly leaning forward to hear the gossip. Kaye agreed quietly, eyes flickering into the rearview mirror.

Shavonne held off on her words for a few moments, slowly sipping from the Coke until she was satisfied and let out a long exhale, “Okay, fine. She said you’re a slut,” she pointed to you, “and she called you a dyke,” ending off her words toward Kaye.

The three of you all stared at each other for a few moments, Sabrina looking rather uncomfortable as she feared that you’d all erupt into anger and this would get worse than it already was. The silence was deafening, the sounds of others at the drive-thru somehow seeming quiet and muffled as the words settled in.

Then, you and Kaye busted into a loud fit of laughter, following shortly by Shavonne and an uncertain Sabrina, who chuckled nervously. She seriously didn’t understand high school drama, and she was already growing afraid at the prospect of it. If someone called her a slut, she’d cry about it for days!

“God, they’re so annoying,” you breathed out through a laugh as you settled back into your seat, only feeling the slightest tinge of anger. Mostly, this relieved you because any ounce of sympathy you had over Elise was gone like the wind. 

Sure, it was far from having good morals, but you certainly hoped that you’d be finding yourself with Angus somewhere tonight. Alone, and not so quiet. It’s what you both deserved.

“Did you see how Jason didn’t even say hi to me in class earlier?” Shavonne’s voice was loud over the wind as you girls drove down main street, the radio lowered, “I mean, he walked up to the door and saw me inside and didn’t even acknowledge my existence. He’s such a prick.”

“And here Kaye is trying to tell me that Benny is the worst in school,” you chuckled, glancing back to look at Shavonne, “Jason is a prick, though, he always tries to play hard to get as if you two haven’t been seeing each other all year, like, what’s his deal?”

“Right!” Shavonne exclaimed, taking another drink of the coke that was nearly gone, “And honestly, I’m doing him a favour by sleeping with him. I’m so out of his league.”

“He’s such a weirdo. He thinks being a football player makes him the most popular boy in the school,” you huffed.

“Well, it kind of does,” Shavonne sighed as she deflated into her seat for a moment, only a few seconds later puffing out her chest and sitting up straighter, “Screw him!” She exclaimed, lifting her hands in the air and shedding all worries as she forced herself to cheer out into the night sky. An easy way to uplift her energy. If there was one thing you admired about Shavonne, it was her ability of keeping herself out of the gutter. There was very little that could hold her down, and if it did, it never lasted.

“You tell him,” Kaye chimed in with a big smile, glancing in her rearview when she heard an engine roaring behind–the smile immediately faltering, “Speak of the fucking devil.”

All of you shifted in your seats to look back, seeing Pickford’s car rev up until they reached the same speed as Kaye’s. Inside sat Pickford, Jason, and some boy you didn’t quite recognize that was passing a bong back and forth with Slater in the back seat. Your eyes stared at Jason, narrowing slightly in solidarity with Shavonne’s disappointment.

Jason, who was sitting in the passenger seat, leaned forward to look past Pickford, “Hey, what’s going on?” He asked your group, a smile spread on his lips and completely unaware of the complaining that was going on between you four.

Your eyes lingered on Jason, a brow quirked—severely unimpressed. 

“What are you up to?” Shavonne called over, leaning against her door and locking eyes with Jason, a small smile on her lips. You caught her behaviour, holding back the urge to roll your eyes at how coy she was being after just talking bad about him—she was only human. 

“Oh, you know, smoking a little weed. Driving around,” he said casually, licking his lips as he focused those eyes on the blonde sitting in the backseat of Kaye’s car, “There might be a beer bust later on, just thought you’d want to know.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Shavonne was trying so hard to hide that smile, but it was impossible. Again, you couldn’t blame her, Jason was a really cute guy. Why stay mad, especially on a night like this?

“Do you know where Angus is?” You called over, eyes flickering between Jason and Slater, figuring they were the last to see him. That was enough to garner everyone’s attention, even Pickford removed his eyes from the road to glance at you.

You hadn’t realized that your affairs were so public. 

“He’s back at the Emporium, man,” Slater said from his spot in the backseat, hardly able to keep his eyes fully opened and a goofy smile tainting his lips, “Hanging with Wooderson… I like that guy, man.”

You felt your cheeks warm up at the mere mention of his whereabouts, feeling the stare of Kaye from behind you. Couldn’t you have any peace? If Shavonne could immediately forgive Jason for being a bad not-so-boyfriend, then you should be able to lust after Angus freely! She did say you’re allowed to have options.

“Elise better watch her boy,” Jason said through a grin, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Just as he turned to look at Shavonne, his mouth opening to say his goodbyes—

“Check you later!” Slater said in a dorky tone as he snapped his fingers into guns, a big, toothy smile on his lips. Kaye sped up and down the street, you girls all laughing together as you barely heard Jason chastising Slater for ruining it.

“They’re such dorks,” Kaye shook her head, lifting a hand to adjust her rearview mirror, catching Sabrina in it, “How are you like it so far, Freshie?” She asked, both you and Shavonne’s attention landing on her.

“It’s fun,” Sabrina smiled, “I’ve uh, never had a night like this before. Do you drive around like this a lot?”

“Pretty much,” you answered, turning ahead in your seat as you looked down at your nails, too dark to properly inspects your cuticles, “There’s not much to do in the evenings unless there’s a party, so this is better than nothing.”

“We know this whole city like this back of our hand,” Shavonne said, grinning, “Do your best to keep an eye on it all, yeah? Someday, I’m sure you’ll be driving around with a cute boy looking for a place to park for some… alone time.” She nudged the younger girl, Sabrina blushing at the insinuation.

“Shavonne, do not inflict your teenage horniness on this poor freshman.” Kaye reprimanded playfully, turning down a quiet street.

“What? I’m allowed!” Shavonne snarked, smirking over at the younger girl, “Have you even had your first kiss yet?”

Those words caught your attention as you snuck a glance over your shoulder, smiling when you saw how Sabrina’s cheeks were bright red. That alone was enough admission of the truth, and you could only hope that her high school career was less dramatic than your own.

“We meant what we said earlier,” you said as you adjusted yourself, “Make sure you find a nice boy.”

“She was chatting with Tony earlier, asked her to propose to him.” Kaye chewed on her bottom lip, pulling the car through the neighbourhoods that were quiet and still. Families tucked away in their homes after dinner, porch lights flicking off and on to silently beckon their children away from their evening playtime and back inside.

“Tony?” You smiled brightly, knowing that the blonde boy was a friend of Angus’. You’d been invited to play poker with them a couple of times before, only having made it there once, “Now he is a nice boy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a vulgar word coming from his mouth, you know.”

“Yeah, he seems nice,” Sabrina giggled shyly, tucking some of her curly hair behind her ear, “He’s just… older, though. Do seniors even like freshman?”

You and Shavonne laughed together, finding her words too innocent. She knew absolutely nothing of high school culture, and you were almost certain she didn’t have an older sister. To be this clueless was a nightmare and a half—you experienced it firsthand as the eldest sibling in your family.

“You have no fucking idea,” the blonde snickered, “I’m so glad you’re with us, Sabrina, you have so much to learn.”

The freshman was wide-eyed and looking between you all, “So… they do like freshman girls?”

“Yes, and it’s sickening,” Kaye said, “I might complain about Jason and Benny every day of my life, but at least they date girls their age,” she said, slowing down as she pulled back onto main street and pulled over on the side of the road where a garbage can was–shifting the car into park, “But Tony is actually a decent guy, so I’ll let that slide.”

Shavonne silently knew her assigned task, scooping up the garbage you girls collected over the past hour and hopping out of the vehicle to throw it away. Once back, she lit up a cigarette, settling back into the seat beside Sabrina and exhaling the smoke up into the night sky.

“Yeah, he’s not a pig like Teddy Kountze. You watch out for him, he flunked senior year, so he’s eighteen now and will still be trying to get with the freshman girls,” you warned her carefully, “and he’s a douchebag. There’s nothing good about him.”

Shavonne nodded to your words, passing the cigarette to you, “You know, my dad was twenty-two when he started dating my mom at sixteen,” she looked between you all, “Now that I’m seventeen it gives me the creeps. My dad was Wooderson’s age when they met, that’s messed up.”

“Do you think he’ll be still hitting on the girls when Sabrina is a senior?” Kaye piped up through a laugh, taking the cigarette from you and inhaling.

The freshman, again, look wide-eyed and nervous. It was endearing.

“Don’t worry,” you said to her through a chuckle, “trust me when I tell you that you’ll know who he is when you see him, and you’ll be rightly turned off. I don’t trust the girls that get with him.”

“Didn’t you sleep with him?” Shavonne kicked your seat.

“What? No! I said I thought about it when he asked,” you grumbled, “I have morals.”

“Obviously not enough to stay away from dudes that have girlfriends,” Kaye rebuked, an impish look on her face.

“I resent that baseless accusation,” you snorted, reaching down to put your hand on the gear shift, “Start driving.”

“Shit, I almost forgot to tell you!” Shavonne squealed, sitting forward so she could lean herself between you and Kaye, falling back slightly as the car sped back onto the road, “I heard from a little bird that Elise is thinking of breaking up with Angus.”

“Really?” You murmured, looking over your shoulder at Shavonne, “don’t lie.”

“I swear to god, she told me herself. She said that she’s getting bored, and she feels like she could do better for senior year,” your friend continued, delighted to see your interest, “But I don’t know if she’ll go through with it.”

“Why not?” Kaye piped up, brows furrowing as she listened to the gossip.

“Because she knows that miss love triangle over here has been hanging out with him,” Shavonne smiled, “Darla saw you two driving around last weekend and Elise is pissed.”

“What? There’s nothing illegal about driving around. We’re friends,” you complained, offended.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart, everyone knows that you and Angus have the hots for each other,” Shavonne grinned, “But just know that your little rendezvous are the reason that Elise has decided to hold off on breaking up with him. If you two waited just a few more weeks before spending all the free time you could muster up with each other, he’d probably be all yours for the taking.”

A heavy breath came from you, feeling regret pool inside your stomach and leaving it in a sour pit.

“What a spiteful bitch,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Well, look at it this way,” Kaye started, “if things were getting so boring between them that Elise was wanting to break up with him, then you could probably confront him about it, and he’d break up with her. The only question is, will you?”

Much like a whiny toddler, you pouted in your seat and forced your gaze away from your friends, “Yeah, whatever. I’ll think about it… we need to find some fucking alcohol.”

Kaye pulled onto a road that led past the Recreation Centre, where the freshman were having their own summer kick-off party. Not much of a party than it was a dance being chaperoned by a few parents and teachers, you could even hear the song “Love Hurts” by Nazareth being played loudly from the open doors—poor kids. 

Your eyes flickered ahead as Kaye started slowing down, further down the street you saw a vehicle pulled over on the side of the road with its headlights on and the sound of yelling. “What the hell,” you murmured, leaning over the side of your door to look past the windshield. It was Teddy Kountze’s car, cringing when you heard the cries of the boy as a paddle smacked against him.

Jason came walking from around the front of the car where the boy was pushed against a chain link fence, a smile on his face when he saw Shavonne sitting up and looking over at him. However, everyone's attention was faced over to Kountze, who was relentless with his paddling.

“Go easy on him, would you?” You called out, feeling your heart skip a beat when you realized it was Benny holding the other paddle. He turned over to look at you from afar, a smirk on his lips as you tugged your eyes away.

Jason only smiled wider as he walked closer, “Ladies,” he mused, opening the trunk of the car to reveal a sea of beer bottles and cans. He grabbed one of the glass bottles and a bottle cap opener, leaning back against the trunk, just about to open it until you spoke.

“Who’s the kid?” You asked, sitting up in your seat until you were nearly standing and looking overtop the windshield, cringing slightly as you saw Kountze paddling him a few more times, relentless in doing so. You could hear the cracks of the wood against the denim echo, pained cries coming from the kid.

“Oh, the kid there?” Jason hummed, smirking, “Some kid we saw walking around the rec centre that shouldn’t have been there,” Jason bit down on his bottom lip as his eyes focused on the blonde.

You were focused on Benny, who was walking around the car and standing next to Jason, grabbing one of the beers for himself. He was far from the hottest guy you’d ever seen, but you had grown attached to him, whether you realized it or not. That’s why you grinned when he looked at you, biting down onto your lip coquettishly as he returned with a smile of his own. Okay, maybe he was one of the hottest guys you’d ever seen.

There was something about these small town Texan boys that had you flustered.

It was easy to forget about your troubles when you had boys at your disposal, boys who could make you feel good for a night. So the looming responsibilities ahead were far from your mind and instead focused on the pleasure they gave you. That’s what you and Benny were good for each other.

And that’s how it started. A bit of flirting here and there within your first few weeks of arriving at Lee High School, until one day before a football game he came crawling to you with so much pent-up stress. You two had spent the entire night together, not falling asleep until the birds started chirping. That’s why you had to fight the urge to saunter toward him and forget about your worries of Angus, to indulge in what was comfortable for you. Ignoring your future, ignoring how the unknowing scared you.

“Can you give us some of those beers?” Shavonne called out to Jason, a smile on her lips.

“Why?” He grinned, teasing.

“Just give me a beer,” she groaned, her and Sabrina now sitting up on the backs of their seat, looking above you and Kaye.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Kountze’s voice was loud, the paddle smacking against the chain link fence loudly as the kid scurried off toward the cars. He was finally done playing with his food.

As Jason toyed with tossing over a beer to Shavonne, playing with her, he instead turned to the freshman walking past, “Here, catch, kid.” He said, tossing the beer bottle to him and smiling contentedly—it wasn’t by much, but Jason was one of the kinder boys. Not as kind as Angus.

“What did you give him a beer for? You’re wasting beers,” Benny grumbled, cracking open one of the white cans and taking a sip of the foam that nearly spilled out of the opening. His eyes flickered over to you again, smirking from behind his drink as both of you silently agreed on the fact that you’d be seeing each other later.

Far from your thoughts was Angus and the idea of breaking things off with Benny.

Was it so bad to see where things went first?

“This fuckin’ sucks,” Kountze whined, dropping his paddle into the open car door before walking over and picking up a bottle, “Last fuckin’ day of school, no fuckin’ party. No nothin’. Fuck,” as he spoke, his words grew angrier as he tried to open the bottle in his hand. When the cap wouldn’t budge, he huffed and tossed the beer, the glass shattering on the gravel road.

“You just wasted another fucking bee-”

“Shut up.”

In his hands, Jason scooped up four cans of beer, one falling out of his grasp, which Benny managed to catch. As Kountze pouted and drank his beer, leaning up against the trunk of his car, Jason and Benny bringing the rest of you each a drink. 

Coming up to the passenger side, Benny leaned against the door and gave you the beer he’d been dangling in his hand, smirking down at you and making you shift in your seat to look at him better. “You’ll be at the Emporium later?” He asked, his hands lifting to adjust the ball cap he wore, fitting it snug over his hair.

“Maybe,” you hummed, cracking the beer open and taking a sip.

“Don’t act like that. Will you be there?” Benny smiled, a low chuckle rumbling from deep in his chest, his hand reaching forward to play with your hair, something he’s never done before. It almost felt… domestic. Like you two were an exclusive item. You were certain he was only acting this way because you’d been distant lately, likely wanting to see more of you, and that treating you this way would make you go crawling right back to him. There was also the thought of jealousy, if others were already talking about you and Angus, you were one hundred percent certain that those rumours would have found their way to Benny.

You wondered if there was a rift in their friendship lately, from what you knew, Angus and Benny were close. They weren’t best friends, but they had spent years growing up together. That alone made you nervous.

“Okay, yeah. Fine. I’ll see you there.” You bit back a smile, setting your beer down into the cupholder between you and Kaye, thankful that the other three were being entertained by Jason the entire time. The last thing you wanted was for your friend to call you out about shamelessly flirting with two boys in one day. Like Shavonne would say—you’re allowed!

“So, who bought you the beer this time?” Your blonde friend asked Jason, only to be rudely interrupted by a car of freshly-graduated boys driving by with music blaring obnoxiously loud.

“Hey, Benny, you idiot!” A voice slurred loudly, one of the boys from the car, “You know I slept with your girl before you did! Sloppy seconds!” They shouted as they tossed a beer can that hit the side of Kaye’s car.

It happened so fast, everyone turning their heads to look at the culprits driving by, eyes wide and in shook.

They were lying, of course, the words spewed only because those boys were drunk and jealous of the football players. Why they were jealous of someone younger, you couldn’t comprehend—boys were weird. You were unfortunately caught in the crossfire, an easy target with Benny’s attention all over you. The words still stung you, though, your cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You felt a hand, Benny’s, press over your shoulder and gently squeeze it. Reassuring and protective.

It was unlike anything you’d experienced with him, and for the first time he’d grounded you. Weirdly, you felt like you could get used to that feeling.

“Bite me!” Kountze yelled out at the boys protectively, earning a ‘fuck you’ as they sped down the road, “Yeah, you wish, asshole!” Kaye chimed in right after, everyone angry and red-faced on yours and Benny’s behalf.

That was something you could check off—Kountze and Kaye standing up for you at the same time. Two sides of very different coins.

Shyly, you reached a hand up to rest over Benny’s, tilting your head back to look at him as you squeezed his fingers, noting the anger that was swirling in his eyes. The anger he tried to control for your sake. This moment was intimate, leaving you a bit breathless and with butterflies swirling around in your stomach.

You were now fully caught in a mess of boys and blossoming love, certain this night wouldn’t end well for one of you. Hell, maybe none.

“Why are guys such pigs?” Shavonne sneered from her seat, looking over her shoulder to where the car had sped off, now only a layer of dust in the air.

“Let’s get out of here.” Kaye murmured, shifting back in her seat and glancing over at you and Benny, motioning for him to move his hand from you, “You okay?” 

You nodded at Kaye, swallowing a lump down your throat and shoving away your bruised pride, “I, uh, I’ll see you later, then,” your words were directed to Benny. The mood deflated as you settled into your seat, feeling the boy’s gaze on you as he stepped back. You already yearned for his touch again, but you didn’t dare look over at him because you were pulled back into reality now, much too sober. Likewise, you grabbed your beer and took a long chug.

“Bye, boys!” Shavonne waved the football players off as Kaye pulled away, a smirk on her face as she gave a wink to Jason. Though, Sabrina and her were quick to ask if you were okay, leaving you to smile and nod, wanting nothing more now than to get wasted and forget about everything.

You left it up to Kaye to head to your next destination, can of beer in hand, as you sipped on it and listened to your friends chat amongst each other. Like usual, you had found yourself staring off into the scenery, your mind far from the present and up in the clouds. 

Closing your eyes and listening to the radio, you tried to keep your mind from wandering. You focused on your breathing, or how the small bit of alcohol in you had started warming your cheeks. Soon you would be at the Emporium, hopefully able to score some more beer and spend the rest of the night actually having a good time.

This was the last time you would ever let words affect you this much, you promised yourself that.

After driving around for another ten minutes and being overcome with a frustrating amount of boredom, Kaye and Shavonne decided that the Emporium would have better luck. You had forgotten all about Angus being there.

The four of you found yourself standing outside the building while Kaye had a cigarette and the rest of you practiced shooting bottle caps with a snap. Trying to show Sabrina how to do it so it would hit your shoulder. There was a shared feeling of ennui in the air, even radiating out from the inside of the Emporium. Nearly the entire student body had been waiting for Pickford’s party the last month, his house the perfect host for a night of wild teens needing to find relief after a brutal school year.

And there was only so much driving you girls could do in a night and so much beer you could get your hands—you were running out of things to do.

You, especially, could use a party. Somewhere to drink up cups of alcohol and shrug off those nasty words that stuck with you, even after Shavonne berated you for letting it bother you. You were stronger than this, but with your heart confused on what it wanted, and your brain stuck on morals, you were vulnerable.

“This is stupid,” you groaned, tossing the bottle cap in your hand onto the concrete sidewalk and leaning back against the exterior of the building, “Should we go for another drive?”

“I’m sick of driving. Let’s go see if we could score a pool table.” Kaye said, dropping her cigarette to the ground and butting it out with the heel of her shoe.

“And maybe a few more beers,” Shavonne said with a bright smile, likely the only girl in your group that was optimistic about what the night would bring.

As you turned to make your way into the Emporium, none other than Angus Tully stepped out, a cigarette fit nicely between his lips. You looked at his clothing, a purple button up triple his size that was tucked nicely into some white bell-bottoms. The familiar fluttering with your stomach made its appearance again, and long gone were those thoughts of Benny—not when the boy you’d been falling in love with was standing right in front of you.

“Hey,” you grinned, walking over to him and pressing a hand against the wall, “Fancy seeing you here.”

You swore you noticed Angus’ eyes brighten when he saw you, smiling as he pulled the cigarette from between his lips and walked right next to you, followed closely by Wooderson, and surprisingly, your younger brother. Obviously, Kaye and Shavonne weren’t the only girls who invited a freshman. You watched with a smile as he ran past you, eager to see a familiar face in Sabrina.

“You nearly convinced me that I wouldn’t see you tonight,” Angus snickered, leaning against the wall and looking you up and down slowly and with intent, “So, you did end up having the time to finish drying your hair. You, uh, look nice.”

“Thanks, you too,” you breathed out through a giggle, your entire spirit lifting now that he was around, “Did you hear anything more about a beer bust? We’re getting bored.” You motioned a hand back to Kaye and Shavonne, who were standing behind you and focused mostly on Wooderson.

“Ask this man right here,” he smiled, pointing his thumb to the older blonde, who was smiling at you with heavy lidded eyes and a permanent lopsided grin. 

“Patience, darlin’, patience.” He hummed, smoking a near-finished joint in his hands, as he took a few steps away and returned the interest in Kaye and Shavonne.

“So, what have you been up to?” Angus asked, looking down at you as he held up the cigarette and a lighter, giving you the first drag if you so pleased. The gesture was small, but it made you so fucking giddy that you had to try to hide your dorky little smile.

“Mostly driving,” you said, putting the cigarette between your lips and lighting in, inhaling the smoke that burned into your lungs, “we ended up running into Kountze, Jason and Benny,” you said, noticing the way he straightened a bit at the mention of the boy you’d been linked with recently, “They were beating on a kid so hard, that one seriously won’t be sitting for weeks.” 

“Christ,” Angus chuckled, taking the cigarette you passed to him and inhaling the nicotine he’d been needing, “I feel bad for the freshman boys, you know? Not saying you girls don’t have it bad, but after today they’re all free. All those boys that went running will be hunted for the rest of summer.”

“Aw, did poor Angus get paddled as a freshman boy?” You teased him, seeing the way he empathized, finding it rather sweet.

“Fuck yeah, and it hurt like hell.” He laughed, “I was an idiot and went running on the last day of school. If I could go back and tell myself to suck it up and get paddled on the first day, I would’ve taken ten lickings like a champ.”

You watched Angus with a big smile, chewing absentmindedly on your bottom lip as you stayed attentive, thinking back and wondering what kind of boy he was like when he was young. 

“Well, thanks for not being the kind of guy to take this so seriously,” you said, “You’re a nice guy, Angus. Far nicer than those stupid pricks that yelled at me today,” you huffed, “Can’t even enjoy a beer in peace.”

“What happened?” Angus questioned, and you could feel his energy change, like he cared about you—like he was worried. 

You found yourself getting shameful about admitting it, though, your cheeks warming up against as you cleared your throat and shrugged, “It wasn’t anything serious.”

“Tell me,” he urged, a serious look on his face, “Who said something? Was it Benny?”

“What? No. It was actually directed at him,” you cleared the confusion, but it didn’t seem to help, Angus’ face contorted in uncertainty, “Jason was giving us some beers after Kountze let the kid go, and Benny and I were chatting then some dudes drove past, drunk as hell, and yelled about how they’d slept with me before Benny did. Or something along those lines, I don’t know, it was really fast, and they were just being douchebags trying to get under his skin. It was a complete lie, I haven’t slept with anyone except Benny–” you were poisoned with rambling, it seemed.

“Are you okay?” Angus interjected, his eyes softening as he noticed your discomfort over the situation. His compassion made you tense up, almost half-expecting him to focus less on the verbal attack that insinuated you were sleeping around, but instead he was worried about how you felt. 

“Yeah… I mean, it was pretty insulting, but I’m okay.” You nodded your head, feeling so incredibly small under Angus’ gaze, but safe.

“Some dudes are total pigs,” he huffed, giving you the cigarette that you obviously needed, “hopefully that’s the last time they bother you like that.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking a few much-needed drags from the cigarette, “I won’t let it get to me next time.”

“Good,” Angus smiled, watching you with a look of awe and love on his face, but you couldn’t quite make that out. You were far too oblivious for your own good, “I bet Benny was happy to see you.”

And there it was. You knew it was too good to be true—a night where Angus would forget all about your own ‘relationship’. You were kind at least, keeping your lips tight about his own situation.

“I wouldn’t say he was necessarily any happier to see me than usual,” you chuckled, awkwardly dropping your gaze, “We just hang out from time to time. It’s nothing serious.”

“Are you being honest?” 

You looked up, meeting those brown eyes, “What do you mean?”

“Is it nothing serious?” He questioned you, making you feel like there was no one else around you as he fixated on those words. You grew tense, the first time being questioned so analytically by him. 

This would have been the perfect time to explain everything, to bring up your feelings for him, and to let him know that you’d call things off with Benny as long as he did the same with Elise. But you could never do things that easily, could you?

“Uh, no. Nothing serious.” Is all you said, shrugging. In the back of your mind, you remembered the way you had grabbed onto Benny’s hand, holding it for reassurance as he was silently there for you. To you, it was nothing serious. To him? Well, you couldn’t be so certain what his intentions were, so technically, you weren’t lying.

“That’s cool,” Angus replied, his eyes dropping as he continued smoking–his mind elsewhere, and you wondered if any of your words actually stuck in his mind. You followed his gaze, looking down at your chest, which was manipulated perfectly by the halter top.

A laugh bubbled up from your throat, “are you staring at my fucking tits?” 

“Huh?” Angus was caught off-guard, looking up at you, cheeks pink, “No, not at all,” he was adamant in his answer, exhaling smoke from deep in his lungs as his expression faltered sheepishly, “…yes.”

“Yeah, some dudes are pigs,” you teased, earning a smile and gentle shove against your shoulder from Angus.

Things were cut short, though, your eyes slowly moving past him when you saw two familiar figures walking up toward the doors of the Emporium, your stomach twisting into knots. Darla smiled at Wooderson, giving him a wink as they walked past, Elise, however, was staring daggers at both you and Angus. Whatever nice girl facade she’d managed to play these past few months had completely vanished, you saw her exactly for what she was.

You swallowed a lump down your throat, pulling your eyes away from Elise as she took a drag from her cigarette and walked inside the Emporium slowly, leaving you and Angus standing outside awkwardly. Neither of you dared to bring up the elephant in the room, you were instead waving goodbyes to Kaye and Shavonne as they went inside, following Elise and Darla.

Soon, you, Wooderson and Angus were standing outside, your brother having went in with Sabrina to mingle with their peers. It wasn’t so awkward anymore, having taken up small conversation with the older man.

“So, you lived in California, right?” Wooderson asked you, putting a joint between his lips and inhaling.

“Yeah, Santa Barbara,” you replied, staying close to Angus’ side. You didn’t know Wooderson all that well, but you’d met him twice before today—all you knew was that he was an older guy who loved younger girls. And, he bought you beer once, so you owed him.

“California dreamin’,” he smiled, “bet you miss it, huh?”

“Every day,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment and able to instantly take yourself back to the coastal beaches.

You were rudely interrupted by the sound of squealing tires against pavement, opening your eyes to see Teddy’s car come speeding into the parking lot and stopping right in front. You met Benny’s gaze immediately as he stepped out of the car to let Jason out of the back. Though, you were far more perceptive than usual, catching the way his eyes flickered between you and Angus, unimpressed.

“Hey, Slater, you fuckin’ hippie! Give me some drugs, man!” Kountze called from the driver’s seat, his voice making a shiver run down your spine. Even though he’d kind of stood up for you earlier, he was still your least favourite human on this planet.

Slater had been sitting sideways outside of Pickford’s car, the two of them sharing a joint without a care in the world. Until Teddy showed up.

“Get some from your mother, man,” Slater returned wittily. You could see the irritation on his face, it was hard to get a guy like Slater upset.

“We just bagged your mother,” Kountze laughed loudly as Benny got back in the car. He hadn’t acknowledged you other than the lingering stare, and you knew that you’d be confronted by him sooner or later–you tried to ignore it.

“Okay. Fuck you, dick head,” Slater said, waving his hand at them as Kountze pulled out of the parking lot, the smell of rubber on pavement making you nauseous.

“Man of the woods, what’s going on? I haven’t seen you in so long.” Jason grinned, happy to see Wooderson as he ran up to him, greeting him in a way that made you crinkle your nose at their vulgar behaviour.

As you watched the two men catching up, you almost didn’t notice the way Angus’ hand had moved to the small of your back. You snapped your head to look at him, a knowing smile on his face as he looked past you and over to Wooderson. You chewed on the inside of your cheek and leaned into his touch, letting out a content sigh. This felt much too good, like this was normal. You wanted him to be your normal.

“I think I might head inside,” you murmured to Angus, looking up at him and ignoring Wooderson’s rant about younger women—loving the way he got older, and how they stayed the same age. You wished Kaye was outside to hear this, she would’ve jumped at the opportunity to argue with Wooderson about his predatory behaviour, but he would've taken it with stride.

“You sure?” Angus asked, keeping his voice low as he looked over you. 

Though, just as you were about to nod to his words, Pickford spoke up, “You guys wanna’ go for a spin?”

“Fuck yeah, shotgun!” Jason quickly snapped his fingers, grinning as he pointed at Wooderson and Angus, “Woods?”

“I’m here, man.” Wooderson replied, content with sticking around the Emporium, likely now that the girls were inside and ready to be flirted with. If you weren’t so disgusted in the twenty-year old’s behaviour, you likely would’ve been right with them and hoping he’d give you the light of day.

This was the best opportunity to usher a quick goodbye to Angus before disappearing and finding your friends, but you were looped right into the action.

“You want to come along?” Angus pulled himself from you, stepping toward the car and grinning, trying his best to entice.

You let out another long exhale, trying to act cool, but you were crazy excited. You hadn’t wanted to go inside to get away from Angus, rather, you were getting bored with standing around and doing a whole lot of nothing. Spending time with Angus? Yeah, you’d say yes to that any day.

“Yeah, why not?” You agreed, stepping alongside Angus and walking toward the car.

“Listen, I’m gonna’ give you shotgun,” Slater said to Jason as he got out of the passenger seat and motioned for the blonde boy to take his spot, eyes so small that you could barely see them. You could tell how red they were, though, “But I want you to know it’s only ‘cause I’m goin’ inside. You keep that in mind.”

Jason smirked, “Okay. Got it, Slate.” 

As they spoke, you slipped into the back of the car, sliding into the seat behind Pickford, with Angus settling in right next to you.

You weren’t sure what to expect, this being your first time hanging out with this group of boys, but you were certain that it wouldn’t be short of entertaining. You settled into your seat, sighing quietly as you felt Angus’ hand rest on your thigh, wishing there was no fabric blocking his touch from your bare thigh.

As you felt your heart doing flips in your chest, eyes locked in Angus’ brown ones, you wondered if he felt the same.

[ulkaralakbarova]

When CIA Analyst Jack Ryan interferes with an IRA assassination, a renegade faction targets Jack and his family as revenge. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Jack Ryan: Harrison Ford Dr. Caroline “Cathy” Ryan: Anne Archer Sally Ryan: Thora Birch Sean Miller: Sean Bean Kevin O’Donnell: Patrick Bergin Annette: Polly Walker Lord William Holmes: James Fox Lt. Cmdr. Robby Jackson: Samuel L. Jackson Adm. James Greer: James Earl Jones Paddy O’Neil: Richard Harris Marty Cantor: J.E. Freeman Dennis Cooley: Alex Norton Watkins: Hugh Fraser Inspector Highland: David Threlfall Owens: Alun Armstrong Sissy: Berlinda Tolbert Lord Justice: Gerald Sim First Aide: Pip Torrens Ashley: Thomas Russell Charlie Dugan: Andrew Connolly Ned Clark: Keith Campbell Jimmy Reardon: Jonathan Ryan Court Guard: P.H. Moriarty Interviewer: Bob Gunton CIA Technician: Ted Raimi Secretary: Brenda James Paddy Boy: Karl Hayden Lady Holmes: Claire Oberman Young Holmes: Oliver Stone The Electrician: Tom Watt Constable: Tim Dutton Constable: Martin Cochrane Rose: Ellen Geer Winter: John Lafayette Ferro: Shaun Duke Spiva: Fritz Sperberg CIA Analyst: Allison Barron Dr Shapiro: Philip Levien FBI Agent Shaw: Jesse D. Goins Avery: Michael Ryan Way FBI Director’s Bodyguard (uncredited): Peter Weireter Film Crew: Director of Photography: Donald McAlpine Original Music Composer: James Horner Screenplay: W. Peter Iliff Producer: Mace Neufeld Producer: Robert Rehme Director: Phillip Noyce Screenplay: Donald Stewart Editor: William Hoy Editor: Neil Travis Casting: Cathy Sandrich Gelfond Makeup Artist: Michael Key Casting: Amanda Mackey Executive Producer: Charles H. Maguire Makeup Department Head: Peter Robb-King Art Direction: Joseph P. Lucky Hairstylist: Anne Morgan Costume Design: Norma Moriceau Makeup Artist: Pat Gerhardt Set Decoration: John M. Dwyer Makeup Artist: John R. Bayless Production Design: Joseph C. Nemec III Stunts: Dick Ziker Stunts: Terry Leonard Visual Effects Supervisor: Robert Grasmere Visual Effects Supervisor: John C. Walsh Stunt Coordinator: Andy Bradford Stunt Coordinator: Steve Boyum Stunts: Michael T. Brady Stunts: Janet Brady Stunts: William H. Burton Jr. Stunts: Bobby Bass Stunts: Keith Campbell Stunts: David Burton Stunts: Clarke Coleman Stunts: Gerry Crampton Stunts: Cynthia Cypert Stunts: Laura Dash Stunts: Gabe Cronnelly Stunts: Steve M. Davison Stunts: Jeff Imada Stunts: Jeffrey J. Dashnaw Stunts: Annie Ellis Stunts: Richard M. Ellis Stunts: Tony Epper Stunts: Elaine Ford Stunts: Kenny Endoso Stunts: James M. Halty Stunt Coordinator: Martin Grace Stunts: Steve Hart Stunts: Scott Hubbell Stunts: Craig Hosking Stunts: Henry Kingi Stunts: Joel Kramer Stunts: Paul Jennings Stunts: Gene LeBell Stunts: Gary McLarty Stunts: Mark McBride Stunts: Bennie Moore Stunts: Valentino Musetti Stunts: John C. Meier Stunts: Alan Oliney Stunts: Chuck Picerni Jr. Stunt Double: Bobby Porter Stunts: Steve Picerni Stunts: Tony van Silva Stunts: Chad Randall Stunts: Rod Woodruff Stunt Double: Vic Armstrong Second Unit Director: David R. Ellis Stunts: Gregory J. Barnett Stunts: Tim A. Davison Novel: Tom Clancy Movie Reviews: John Chard: Good guys are real good, and the bad guys are real bad. Patriot Games is a more than serviceable thriller, perhaps a bit out of date when viewing it now, but still a very effective good against evil piece. The source material is so dense and intricate it was always going to be hard to condense that into a 2 hour movie, but I feel the makers manage to keep it fleshy whilst making the respective characters interesting and watchable. The acting on show is more than adequate, Harrison Ford is great in the role of Jack Ryan, he manages to portray him as a sensitive family man who can step up to the plate when things get ugly, and Anne Archer is solid enough as the wife and mother caught up in the web of nastiness unfolding. The baddies are led by the brooding Sean Bean who is a little under written, whilst Richard Harris is sadly underused. However, the action set pieces make their mark and thankfully we get a riveting...

[renee-lemaire]

Benny O'Donnell in Dazed and Confused (1994)

[trashmouth-richie]

BAD DATE CHRONICLES

Eddie finally works up the courage to ask Chrissy Cunningham on a date.

W.C 800

A/N: one of my lovelies @munson-blurbs suggested this ❤️‍🔥

Twenty two minutes. She had been talking about her stupid green scrunchie for twenty two goddamn minutes with no end in sight. When Eddie had worked up enough courage to ask Chrissy Cunningham to go on a date with him for some burgers, he thought he had won the lottery when she agreed. Turns out the only lottery he won was a headache between his eyes and a one sided conversation about Chrissy’s entire life.

Eddie had begun to drown her out after the first 10 minutes of her talking about how Jason would take her to Enzo’s and order for her and how cute it was that “he just always knew what I wanted.” Eddie is twirling the rings on his fingers and thinking of words that rhyme with fuck this, in his head as Chrissy’s banter to literally herself about how popular she is, continues. They hadn’t even ordered yet, Chrissy finding it difficult to order between a hamburger, a cheeseburger, or a bacon cheeseburger. The waitress had stopped by 3 separate times to see if Chrissy was ready to order to which she replied with something snarky.

Eddie resorted to slurping the last bit of the sweet, bubbly, carbonated bliss of his Dr. Pepper. The annoying sound of air blubbering through a straw between tiny amounts of liquid, rang free throughout Benny’s, a universal sound that signaled attention was needed at said table. This was a mistake, a horrible asinine mistake. Eddie had been pining silently over Chrissy for four years, getting achy fluttering butterflies in the deep pits of his stomach every time she walked past him in the halls, swinging her blonde ponytail and smelling like roses. Heart palpitations when she raised her delicate manicured hand to answer a question in Ms O’Donnell’s. And for what? For her to only talk about her stupid ‘rich girl’ problems? For her to criticize his appearance? Have you ever considered cutting that mop on your head? You’d actually look hot without that mess. He was done, he just wanted to go home and forget this day ever happened.

The waitress stomps back over to the table, her two dark brown braids cascading down her back are flapping behind her. The muddy browns of her eyes pierced through the blonde’s head fiercely. Her face is splattered with freckles on her pale skin, and her expression is anything but friendly. The faded pink uniform adorning her frame is stained with ketchup and an array of other condiments on the front, stitched in red across the left side of her chest reads, Buffy. “Are you ready to order or would you like to see a menu for Enzo’s with directions on how to get there?”

Chrissy scoffs and looks at Eddie, her eyebrows raised, “Excuse me?”

“Benny’s Burgers… burgers!” the waitress says, pointing to other customers swinging her long braids as her head swivels, “there is nothing else to order here but a burger, so would you like it plain, with cheese, or the ONLY other option, with bacon?”

Before Chrissy can comment on the waitress' almost deranged behavior, Eddie interjects, “actually we will take the check,” the waitress looks dumbfounded almost in tears at frustration of today's shift and the reality of this bimbo cheer bitch wasting her time. She was supposed to be off an hour ago. Eddie adds, “and your number if you’re offering.” His smile could melt glaciers and he knew it.

Chrissy’s face goes from annoyed to shocked. “Munson, what the hell?!” She shrieks, loud enough for all the residents of east Hawkins to hear, including those enjoying their dirt naps in the cemetery.

“Chrissy,” Eddie says, thumbing through his wallet for a few small bills, “I wish I could say this has been fun— but burning my eyelashes off with my lighter would have been better. You are incredibly vain, and absolutely the most self centered person on the planet,” Eddie swings his long legs from under the booth and sets the cash down on the table, “I can’t believe I had a crush on you all these years— so if you’ll kindly find your own way home, I’m going to take Buffy down to the Hideout for a drink.”

“You’ll regret this Eddie! Come Monday you’re going to wish you have never stepped foot out of that trailer park!” Chrissy fumes as her cheeks are beat red and her voice shakes with fury.

“Neat, lookin’ forward to it,” Eddie chides as he grabs Buffy by the hand and drags her towards the rickety door at the front of the diner.

“It’s, Mea actually,” she says as she unties the long white strings from her apron behind her back, “my name is Mea.”

“Well Mea,” Eddie says, throwing a leather covered arm over her shoulder, “have you ever met Mary Jane?”

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

[twistnet]

getaway [ benny o’donnell ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; fearing you made the wrong decision, you sneak out of your own wedding ;  only to run into an old lover who still has feelings for you

⋯ PROMPT ; [ provided prompt ] “did you steal my sister from her wedding?”

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, implied white reader, angst [ running away from a wedding, rough breakups, slight arguments ], general fluff [ reestablishment of feelings + confession of love ] + mature language 

⋯ NOTE ; while no physical desciption of the ‘reader’ is ever given, it is implied that the ‘reader’ is white due to being the sibling of a white character // if this makes you uncomfortable, please forgo reading beyond the ‘read more’ line

“i... just need some time alone.” you answered, nodding your head in thank you as your friend quietly left the room to give you some space. eyes casting back over the large mirror standing in front of you. the crisp white dress and veil seated atop your head reflecting back at you.

you had met him at college, having hit it off immediately after a night out. progressing into a relationship that stretched the last couple years of your degree before he popped the question. at the time, you were ecstatic and had happy agreed. but as time grew closer to the wedding date, your presumed cold feet morphed into something else.

somewhere, deep down in your heart, you knew that this wasn't what you had wanted. that the man standing at the end of the aisle wasn’t the one you wanted it to be. “what am i doing?” you question, smiling sadly to yourself in the mirror as you pull the veil from your head, tossing it and the bouquet into the nearest chair as you slipped into more comfortable shoes. 

it would only be a matter of time before someone came looking for you, asking why there was a hold up as you had already run over time with your panicked thinking. so, you quickly ducked out of the room, hightailing it to the door located at the back of the hall and out into the open. you glanced around, making sure no one had seen you exit and took off through the parking lot.

stopping only when you had walked out from between two parked cars, almost getting hit by a black truck. you had looked up, getting ready to apologize when you locked eyes with someone you hadn’t seen in awhile. benny o’donnell. 

with brain on autopilot, you ran around tot he passenger door, pulling it open and climbing in. benny watched in confusion as you buckled yourself in, a hand coming to rest on your own in effort to stop you, “what are you doing? aren’t you supposed to be getting married?” he questioned, frowning when he saw you shake your head, “just drive. i’ll explain the minute you get down the road. just get me out of here.” he nodded silently, easing the truck back out onto the highway and away from the venue.

a few miles down, he cleared his throat, offering the floor for you to speak about why you are found sneaking out of your wedding, “i... couldn’t do it. not when i didn’t love him.” you spoke, looking over to catch him nod. you didn’t say anything more on the matter, the truck pulling into an off-road diner. silently ushering you out of the truck and inside.

you settled into a booth, looking over the menu as the two of you sat in relative silence. only speaking when the waitress would stop by and ask for orders. not until the food arrived did benny speak, “so, you didn’t love him?” he questioned, pushing his food around with a fork as he watched you nod, “didn’t seem right. more like i was rushing into something, but i didn’t think it all the way through.” you frowned when he scoffed, throwing his fork down onto the table as he shook his head.

“so, you are just... willing to throw away some marriage with some prissy engineer from your college because it didn’t feel right and you were rushing into it? i coulda fucking told you that back when i got your invitation in the mail months ago!” he bit out, trying it keep his anger at bay as he didn’t want to cause too much of a scene. your eyes hardened, lips curling into a snarl as you leaned forward, “people can change their mind, benny! just because you don’t, doesn’t mean others do the same.” he bristled at the comment, anger surging through him as his face twisted in anger, “i already told you... it wasn't going to work out. you didn’t want to move with me.”

“you were going to a school in alabama to play football. some twelve hours away from the school i was already accepted to.” your eyes softened as you recalled the argument that had ended your relationship. benny leaving the state two weeks later to go play football and you moving into the on-campus dorm without so much as a word to the other.

“what do you want me to say, benny? that... i wish it was you waiting for me at the end of the aisle? that i wish it was you who asked me to get married?” you sighed heavily, shifting back into your seat as you shook your head. “what would be your answer if i did ask?” your eyes snapped to meet his, widening slightly as you slowly realized what he was asking you, “yes.”

the held breath left his lungs at your answer, relief washing over him as he smiled to himself, “do we try this again?” he question hesitantly, eyes tracking your expression in hopes to get an idea as what what going through your mind, “i want to. with graduation around the corner, we could make it work again.” 

benny smiled brightly for the first time since entering the booth, leaning his body forward to press his lips against yours. lips parting seconds later for him to rest his forehead against yours.

you turned at the shout of your name, seeing your brother lightly jog to your table, “we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” slater’s eyes looking over to benny as a smiled stretched across his face, “hey man, did you steal my sister from her wedding?” he joked, playfully punching benny’s arm before tucking his hair behind his ear. you watched as benny nodded, lacing his fingers with yours as slater nodded, “okay! i’ll go tell the uptight engineer you’re not coming back.” he nodded, snapping his fingers. the brief mutter of a ‘check ya later’ leaving his lips as he ran back out of the diner. leaving the two of you in fits of laughter.

benny threw some cash onto the table, extending a hand to you as he stood from the booth, “shall we get started?” pulling you into his arms once you nodded in agreeance. lips pressed your temple as you left the diner together, ready to start anew.

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