#I actually remember going through these highways years ago

[givenscribbles]

Yep :)

ive never liked the phrase "manmade horrors beyond your comprehension" but i cant think of a better way to describe texas roads

biblically accurate highway

[coffeeman777]

This is for all of my follwers/mutuals who are Christians:

I want to preface this by saying that what I'm about to share with you is only to ask you for prayer. I don't want favors, and I'm not looking for a handout. We need God to open a door for us, and so I beg you, please pray for us.

We moved to Florida coming on three years ago. We came here primarily because we believed God was leading us here. In various ways, we believed God confirmed His will for us, and so I left a great job and we sold a great house to move here. We have been opposed in every way imaginable since.

Days after moving down, Lisa and I were in a terrible car accident that we only walked away from by God's grace. We were rear-ended by an Edible Arrangements delivery truck on the highway, and Lisa sustained significant injuries that are still causing us major problems. The franchise owner was operating their delivery vehicle without insurance, and I've learned since that they shut down their Edible Arrangements franchise and took off, leaving us holding the bag.

I've been in armed security since I got out of the Marines, and in New Hampshire, that was enough to take care of myself and my family. But it isn't in Florida. The pay for most armed security gigs here is super low, and I haven't been able to find work comparable to what I had in New Hampshire. So I tried to change courses.

I earned my personal trainer certification through the National Academy of Sports Medicine, but couldn't make it as a trainer. I made the attempt to go back to college and get a degree and certification as a paramedic, but after months of jumping through hoops, that fell through. I went back to New Hampshire by myself and spent six months away from my family to try to earn enough money working both my old job and a second job, but that plan didn't work because hours were limited with both gigs, and each job wanted me to work overlapping hours; I couldn't make the schedules line up.

My incredibly generous parents-in-law offered to pay our bills so that I could come back to Florida and try a new plan. I went to a CDL training course to get into trucking. After the very long and very expensive process, I finally got my CDL-A. While I was working on that, a random disagreement between my health insurance company and the medical supplier that issued me my cpap (I have sleep apnea) resulted in the supplier demanding that I give them the machine back. It took from middle February to early June for me to get another cpap. The end result is that, as of today, I have just under two months of cpap usage data. I discovered only after getting my CDL that no trucking company will hire me with less than 90 days of cpap usage data.

I've been pre-hired and subsequently turned away from three different trucking companies since I got my CDL over the cpap nonsense (one of which told me that what I had for cpap usage was fine, only to tell me on the first day of orientation that it actually wasn't fine, and they had to let me go). It's going to be another month before I can get started with any trucking company, and I'm concerned that I'll have to go to refresher training, which will only increase the months of time I'll have to spend as a trainee with whatever company hires me, which means it will be a long time before I make enough money to survive.

My in-laws can't continue paying our bills, and although I've had a half dozen low paying jobs in this time just to be bringing in something, now I'm struggling to get anything. I've applied to more jobs than I can remember, and I can't get any traction. Not even Domino's will call me back. Our backs are up against a wall.

My first payment for the money I borrowed to pay for CDL school was due almost a month ago, and I haven't been able to pay it (I had to get financing because my GI Bill expired and the VA ignored my request for an extension). Rent is almost 2k a month. We can't afford groceries (we've been living off of food pantries).

I don't know what to do. I've been crying out to God for an open door, but so far nothing has happened. My in-laws are just about tapped out, and in my mind, the only thing worse than wrecking my own family financially is dragging them down with me.

Please pray for us. Please pray for God to give us an open door, or some understanding of what to do next. I know God didn't bring us here to let us die. God is good, and God keeps His promises. God is perfect, and righteous, and just in all His ways. God has promised that He will turn about all things for the good of them that love Him. I know God has not abandoned us, and that when the time is right, God will make a way.

I say again, I am not looking for favors or begging for money. I know all of us are really going through it right now. All I want from you is prayer. Please pray intensely for us.

Thanks, I love you all.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

The start of something new (Garbage Rat, Martyn, and Ren triangle)

trancript under the cut

Oli: Have you seen a Rat-tic around here, because I told one of them there would be one. Water: I don't know what that is-- Eloise: No, but you know who I have found? I found Mratyn-I found Mratyn, and Will! Oli: Marty! Eloise: Everybody's here, yeah, Marty-- Oli: Marty's here. Marty from the good ole days! (begins playing a quiet clip of applause) Eloise: He looks a bit different, though, he looks a bit different, and I think he's got-I think he's got a boyfriend. Oli: (shuts off the sound of the applause) Wait, what. Eloise: I don't know, he just kept calling him all these pet names like "Big J" and "Captain," but I might be misinterpreting that. Oli: But he didn't call him anything like "O-Dawg," or-or "Garbage Rat," did he? Cause that's my names, he wouldn't use those on someone else. (he plays a clip of an audience 'aw'ing) Eloise: No, he didn't call him that. Oli: Oh, well, that's good, that's nice, I'd love to see Marty.

---

Oli: Don't worry guys, I'm gonna free you! Bek: Help me! Martyn: (through disbelieving laughter) You've gotta be joking--you've gotta be kidding, Garbage Rat! Oli: (joyously) Marty! Martyn: (laughing) What are you doing here! Oli: I've been here the wh--two weeks now, getting drunk on wine! And forgetting stuff. Martyn: What is the--right-- Oli: What happened to your eye? It go the same way as mine? Martyn: I don't wanna talk about it. Captain, if we're gonna recruit anybody, this is our guy-- Ren: Who is the loud one? Martyn: --This is our guy! Oli: You've not found another-- Ren: Reveal yourself loud one! Oli: Hello its me the Garbage Rat I eat the garbage. And what is your name sailor? Ren: Hello Garbage Rat, I am Admiral Jaque Levy La'rat. Oli: No way. And what are you doing with my boy? Ren: (clears throat) He's the Lieutenant on my-my vessel. I picked him up a few weeks ago out in the middle of the ocean, he was in half a tennis ball floating around and it was quite pathetic. Oli: No way...that's quite the step up from being a highway rat. Martyn: Ehh--that's the first time you've described it as pathetic, I don't think I like that. Bek: Bit embarrassing Martyn. Ren: Highway rat, what--? Oli: I actually never called him pathetic--

---

Oli: -friends everywhere we go-- Martyn: Garbage Rat! Oli: Oh my god, Captain, my Captain. (Martyn: Oh.) Hello. Ren: It's the Garbage one again, hello! Martyn: Oh, two seconds, Will! (Will: Okay!) Oli: Hello, you found yourself--you guys find yourself a ship to commandeer yet, you found yourself a highway to man? Martyn: Ah, we-- Ren: We find ourself a perfect spot to rebuild. Martyn: Yeah, we found a plot. We got home and a plot. We're gonna go to the kitchen with Will, wanna come? Ren: I would like, I would like to add, Mister Garbage, that you look magnificent on our boat. I mean, look--the three of us together, side by side, as the pirate crew is there no better-- Oli: Yeah...ey, ey now, I love pirating, I love stealing, I love robbing, I love eating. I'm all those things, but water is not a thing that I enjoy, my sweet croissant. Yeah. Water-- Martyn: Yeah, he's got a past with, uh, flushers. Oli: Drowning, flushes, the whole-- Ren: I understand. Oli: --nine yards, yeah. I shall not be going anything that could have whirlpools. Ren: Out on the high seas, some might call you a Coward. Martyn: Ooh. Oli: Well. In the garbage bin, somebody might call you a corpse. But I ain't gonna make it happen. (Martyn laughs in surprise) Martyn: Yikes. I should step in here, but I don't wanna, I wanna see what happens. Ren: My words. I've never heard such intimidation before. Oli: It's been a good few years. I've faced a lot of creatures in my time. I remember when we were-- Ren: Alright, well Mister Garbage, I'd be happy to have you as an ally on shore, in that case. Oli: I would love to be an ally on shore. And if you--

[leclerc-hs]

i apologize for disappearing for so long… i am working up the courage to start writing again. just dealing with a lot of emotions recently:

for those who don’t know a category 4 hurricane, Hurricane Helene, recently just hit the state of florida, starting early yesterday into late last night, putting many without power or a place to go.

i am fortunately safe from where I am but my mom’s house on the other hand got about 7 feet of water from the storm surges. there is somebody’s sail boat crashed on top of her dock, debris is all over the place, fallen trees, etc. an estimated total of 40 people have died thus far. 💔💔💔

I am so thankful that my area was for the most part unharmed. Yes there was flooding but not nearly as bad as it could’ve been. Just going through some PTSD from Hurricane Ian which hit my area 2 years ago. It will be exactly two years ago tomorrow. Crazy to think that a major hurricane hit the same week as one of the most damaging and costliest hurricanes Florida has ever seen.

For those that don’t know, Hurricane Ian was a Category 4 hurricane (almost a category 5 but it was 2 mph just under) hit my area directly two years ago. It was one of the costliest storms ever equating to nearly 113 BILLION dollars of damage. it is the third costliest hurricane with around 160 deaths and 13 people missing. boats were in peoples homes, there was 15 feet of water in peoples homes, houses were floating away in the ocean. it’s actually INSANE to think that Mother Nature is so capable of this.

I vividly remember being without power for days and no running water. Couldn’t flush toilets, couldn’t even make a phone call. The highways had MILES of ambulances lined up along the sides. It was so crazy.

it still brings tears to my eyes to think about all the people that lost their homes or family members. people had some of their belongings in garbage bags because it was all they had left. the debris pile up’s were taller than the buildings that were left standing. it is something i will never be able to move on from.

anyways sorry for the babbling I’m just really feeling a lot of emotions the past few days from the recent hurricane being the same week as hurricane ian.

I just wanted to come on to say hi and sorry for disappearing and that I am trying to start writing again soon. but for now, i will be going to help clean up other areas which will put a further delay on my writings.

hope y’all understand!!! xoxo

[imogenkol]

— RIDING OUT THE STORM

rating: Mature word count: 2.6k warnings: slightly sexual descriptions, insecurities about sexual intimacy tags: first person pov, early relationship fluff, comfort, communication and boundaries, they’re a healthy couple

summary: reposted prompt from a few years ago that I felt fit for a cozy October - [ SECLUDED ] our muses are on a road trip and are forced to pull over due to heavy rain and fog, they end up fooling around in the car while they wait for it to clear up.

A powerful and unpredictable wind swirled around the car with a vengeance, threatening to force us off the road if I made a single error. Rain fell in sheets so thick that I could barely see further than a few yards ahead, even with help from the headlights and the screech of the overworked windshield wipers. I checked our speed and the needle ticked back and forth over the thirty mark, but the sheer power of the storm made it feel as if we flew through a hurricane. It’s a wonder that our poor old Bronco hadn’t been torn to shreds yet. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard at the thought that my knuckles turned white.

Of course we were the only ones dumb enough to be on the highway in this kind of weather. It was either a gun at our backs or the wrath of God head on.

“Uh…” I started, sounding distracted as I kept most of my focus on driving. “Remember that time when you said I looked happy driving in the rain? This isn’t exactly what does it for me.” 

Jayde scoffed in the passenger seat, looking about as nervous as I felt. Her muscles were coiled so tightly that she had barely moved an inch since the weather got intense. “You wanna switch?” 

The tires skidded on the wet asphalt after a particularly heavy gust. My heart leapt into my throat, but I maintained control of the car. “Um, actually, I was thinking maybe we should just park it somewhere.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I saw Jayde shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “We’ll find a motel eventually.” 

“It’s getting dark,” I pointed out. 

“Then let me drive.”

“Supernatural night vision isn’t gonna help you with all this fog.” 

She leaned forward and squinted out of the windshield. After a few moments, she grumbled to herself and sat back in her seat. “Maybe you’re right.” 

“We’ll set up the back and just ride out the storm for tonight. It’ll be like camping,” I offered with a strained smile. 

That made her hum pleasantly as she considered the idea for a moment. “Alright, you sold me.” 

I beamed, letting some of the anxiety flow off my shoulders with a relieved sigh. Then the car shuddered, wind howling through the windows, and my spine straightened once more. “Keep an eye out while I make sure we don’t die.”

“Thank God we got new tires…” Jayde mumbled.

I said a silent prayer for that, too.

We soon found a large canopy of low hanging trees that served as the perfect shelter just off the side of the highway. The added cover hid us from any other cars that might drive by. Or any potential dangers that could be on our trail. Though the wild storm would make pursuit difficult on its own. I felt safe in our little sanctuary. 

Jayde and I worked together to set the car up for an impromptu overnight stay. We put the back seats down and padded it with sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows – all while going out to brave the torrent of rain a couple of times. Our combined efforts rewarded us with a rather impressive nest cozy enough to keep us comfortable and happy until the weather calmed. 

Satisfied, I kicked my muddy hiking boots off onto the floor at the front of the car and prepared to curl up beside my hearth of a werewolf. 

Jayde already sprawled herself out. She propped her head up on one hand and watched as I got my side of the car all situated to my liking. I tried to ignore the amused smirk at the corner of her mouth while I made sure I had whatever I might need within reach, but then she remarked “You know when a dog walks around in, like, a dozen circles before it finally lays down? That’s what you remind me of right now.”

I threw her a playful glare. “Make fun of me all you want, but when you’re in the perfect position and then realize you forgot something, I’m not gonna get up and grab it for you.”

Her smirk widened into a grin. “I have everything I need.”

Ridiculous, I thought as I rolled my eyes at her flirtatious tone and quietly laughed. I turned my attention to last minute checks. “Alright, I have my water bottle, book, glasses, snacks… what else am I missing…?” I brushed my rain-damp hair back as I searched around the car. Then it clicked. “Oh! Book light.”

“You’re so beautiful when you do that,” Jayde mused.

A warm flush came across my cheeks, but I still fixed her with a quizzical stare as I dug through my bag. “Do what? Forget things?”

“No,” she laughed. “Well, yeah, that’s cute too, but I meant whenever you run a hand through your hair like that.” 

Even though I thought the very same thing about her, I shook my head at the trivial observation and sat beside her after I fished out the little light. “You make it sound like I don’t even have to try with you.”

“You don’t,” Jayde answered without hesitation. She reached out and took my hand in hers. The soft stroke of her thumb across my knuckles caused my breath to stutter. “Not at all.”

My eyes were transfixed on the movement of her fingers, but once I finally met her gaze, I felt my blush grow even hotter. I learned to understand exactly what that piercing intensity in her midnight eyes meant. I recognized her desire for me as a marching pulse in my own veins. It drew me nearer. It made my insides flutter so frantically that I felt a keen ache. And I knew that ache was for her. Just as her captivating expression was for me. 

The only sound came from the storm pelting heavy raindrops against the roof of the car. Everything else felt so still.

I leaned down at the same time Jayde released my hand to cup the back of my neck. The heat of her lips enveloped me in safety and comfort — as if to protect me from the cold rage of the storm outside. I immediately parted mine in a silent beckon to experience more. A sweet, clipped breath flowed into my mouth, and she quickly put me on my back. With her weight settled on top of me, I released a satisfied sigh that drew out into a subtle moan. 

The cadence of our kisses grew passionate. Every stroke of her lips felt warmer than the last. Every brush from her tongue, more eager. I could tell Jayde got lost in the sensations. I got entirely lost in them, myself. Hungry hands ran through the golden, rain-soaked tangles of her hair or caressed up and down her back as she shifted against me. I didn’t mind feeling the way her body moved in the slightest. In fact, I encouraged it. 

We hadn’t gotten this intense since the night of our first date. By now, I would have slowed things down. Anxiety had a way of creeping in during intimate moments. It would whisper horrible things in my ear and strike down the confidence I slowly built up. At the back of my mind, I faintly heard those whispers. I briefly wondered if I should be concerned about them, but something bloomed inside of me, and I pushed those thoughts away. 

Not this time.

Without giving myself a second to overthink it, I flipped our bodies over, and straddled Jayde. She chuckled smoothly in between kisses. “Trying something new?”

I hummed with a nod, too intoxicated to open my eyes. “Is that okay with you?” 

“I’m following your lead.” 

I smiled before I resumed our kisses, then pulled the both of us up into a sitting position. Jayde’s hands gripped my waist to hold me as close to her as possible. The strength and warmth I felt in her palms only increased the desire that flooded my chest. I suddenly wanted her to touch me in ways she hadn’t before. 

I let my instincts takeover and reached down to wrap my fingers around Jayde’s wrist. With uneven breaths breaking free from my lungs, I slowly guided her hand upwards. Her fingers twitched against the curve of my side, bunching up the fabric of my sweater and hiking it up inch by inch. A sharp bite of chilly air brought a wave of goosebumps across my exposed skin, but I didn’t let that stop me. Not until the warmth of her palm flushed against my chest. 

We both froze at the same time. Jayde’s breath caught in her throat and her lips remained parted against my mouth. The moment of hesitation allowed uncertainty to trickle through the cracks, but I was determined to ignore it. I will not be afraid of this. I will not let my fears stop me from experiencing everything I fantasized about. Jayde was safe. Jayde will always be safe. 

I broke the tension by urging her with a delicate kiss. It seemed to pull her out of whatever stupor I had thrown her in and an unsteady exhale reminded me of the untamed wind outside. Jayde kissed me deeper at the same time her hand gave a gentle squeeze. It set my nerve endings alight. My fingers laced with hers to keep her touch right where it was. Invisible sparks raced from my fingertips all the way up my neck. I thought if we could see them, they’d light up the whole sky. Jayde seemed to drink that energy in. Her tongue graced mine and her taste ignited me from within even more. 

Her electrified lips only left mine to glide over the sensitive skin along my neck. The sensation crackled up my spine with enough intensity to make me shiver. I released a whimper beyond my control and fretfully pulled Jayde against me to get impossibly closer. 

She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “You should stop me.”

“Why?” I asked dismissively.

“Your heart is racing, Nadya.”

I caressed the back of her neck. “Isn’t that what it’s supposed to do?”

She slowly pulled away to meet my eyes. “Not like this.”

With the absence of her touch, I realized my hands were completely numb and tingled with a thousand pin pricks in the tips of my fingers. The way they would whenever I felt terrified. My mind lurched from disorientation as I realized how carried away I had gotten in my own attempt to push past my insecurities. Embarrassment flooded my chest and up my neck. I shook my head at myself and took a few moments to regain breath. She was right.

“I want you,” I muttered regretfully. 

“And you’ll have me,” Jayde softly assured. Her hand came up to brush a thumb along my bottom lip. “When you’re ready. Don’t force yourself to be ready.” 

I sighed breathlessly and rested my forehead against hers. A smile, warm and grateful, found its way across my lips. Just like that, my body eased back into her arms. The familiar feeling of refuge that she gave me settled deep into my bones. The next sigh to escape my lungs was one of relief.

Jayde is safe. Jayde is always safe, my thoughts repeated like a mantra. 

The rain had calmed for a few minutes, but then returned with a vengeance. Droplets from the trees were so heavy that I could have mistaken them for hale as they bombarded our car. The whole frame rocked from the harsh winds. A darkness so black and all-consuming made the outside world impossible to perceive through the fogged up windows. All of this, yet there wasn’t a single place I would rather be. 

Is this what falling feels like?

I licked my lips and could still taste what lingered of her. “You know… we don’t… have to stop completely.”

“We don’t,” Jayde agreed.

I grinned again. “It’s not like we’ll get much sleep with all this racket anyway.”

She snorted and leaned back to quirk a brow. “‘Racket’? What are you, eighty?”

I scoffed in offense. “What's wrong with 'Racket'? It’s a perfectly good word!” Her snicker made me laugh in exasperation. “Oh my god, forget it.”

Amused by my playful irritation, Jayde flipped us over to pin me beneath her. She buried her face in the crook of my neck and gave me feather-light kisses that made me squirm. “Oh, baby, you know how your robust vocabulary turns me on.” 

“I knew dedicating myself to a higher education would make women fall at my feet,” I remarked in between giggles.

“Take me, Doctor Bishop, I’m yours,” she said dramatically and then poked the ticklish spot on my side. 

My entire body jerked away from her hand and squealed laughter escaped my chest. “Stop that! You can’t play dirty!” 

“Oh, I can play however–” Jayde gave me a quick peck “I–” and another “want.”

The third time she kissed me, I tangled a hand through her hair to keep her there. My lips teased hers with soft strokes. I parted them just enough to let her feel my breath, but made sure not to deepen the kiss beyond that. When she leaned in for more, I gave her hair a gentle tug to hold her back. The thrill I felt when her muscles stiffened made me smile deviously.

A wolf-like chuckle reached my ears. “Now who’s playing dirty?”

“Show me your eyes,” I whispered. “And I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

We kept one lantern on a hook and the lowlight shrouded half of her face in shadow. Jayde’s features looked even more angular, the lines of some of her scars accentuating the sharpness that could come off intimidating to some. The midnight blue of her eyes soaked up the darkness. I could barely discern the dilated pupils that focused down on me.

Then, with a shimmer of flame, the fibers of her irises ignited into a deep molten gold. Her skin flared hotter as I stared awestruck into her enthralling, inhuman gaze. The sight excited me just as much as the very first time she revealed herself. 

“Amazing,” I breathed. 

Jayde’s voice adopted the huskier cadence it did whenever her wolf was near. “Can I kiss you?”

I didn’t bother with a verbal answer, I simply pulled her down. My fervent cadence invited nothing but indulgence. Jayde answered with a perfect match in pace. Our lips moved together as if they were made for exactly this. She was soft and warm and sweet with just enough intensity to cause the same feeling in my veins as before. Only this time, it wasn’t too much. I felt my chest gently bloom like an oncoming sunrise, comforting me from the inside out. I wanted to be consumed by that internal light. 

“I –” Jayde stuttered as she broke away. 

Her golden eyes blinked in uncertainty and I became concerned as she struggled to find words. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I just…” She bit her lip. I couldn’t tell if the blush across her cheeks was from her wolf or something else. “I really like this. Being with you.”

My smile grew so broad that it hurt. I cupped the side of her face and traced the nearest scar with my thumb. “I really like this, too, Jay.”

Jayde’s grin matched mine and she nuzzled herself against me. I happily wrapped my arms around her and closed my eyes, letting her body heat encompass me. I breathed in the scents of pine and damp earth on her skin – of campfire smoke in her hair, and the peace that came with it all washed over me as the storm raged on around us.

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[dracoqueen22]

For Melly: Aerith/Tifa - against all odds

Tifa is exhausted. 

She’s covered in cuts and bruises. Her body aches. Her head’s spinning, and worst of all, her heart has taken a beating. She doesn’t understand Cloud. She doesn’t know Cloud. She wonders if she ever did. 

And she definitely isn’t sure what happened five years ago. Not anymore. 

Tifa’s exhausted, but she can’t sleep. Energy runs through her veins, adrenaline certain another battle might come bursting through that door. She can’t seem to calm down. 

It doesn’t seem like Aerith can sleep either. She’s been staring at the ceiling and fiddling with the buttons on her dress for as long as Tifa’s been fruitlessly counting chocobos. She’s up to 963. 

Tifa rolls on her side, facing Aerith, arm tucked under her cheek. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” 

“You’d think I’d be exhausted,” Aerith says. She turns to face Tifa, their bodies a pair of parentheses on opposite beds. Her shoulders are bare, but Tifa isn’t sure why she’s focusing on that fact. “I mean, I’m definitely tired, but I guess that’s not enough.” 

“Worried?” Tifa asks. “About your mom?” 

Aerith smiles, gentle and sweet all the way to her willowy bones. “No. She can take care of herself.” 

“Do you think we made the wrong choice?” Tifa blurts out, almost before Aerith can finish answering. It’s something Tifa’s gnawed on, over and over, especially after Cloud’s recitation of an event he can’t have seen. 

Is he wrong because he’s lying on purpose? Or is he actually remembering something he experienced because the choice they made, there on that highway, has fundamentally altered the course of their universe? Is he even her Cloud? Or is Tifa the one misremembering? 

Tifa doesn’t know. 

“It’s too soon to say.” Aerith draws nonsense on the mattress in front of her. That soft smile lingers. “It’s terrifying, but it’s also kind of exhilarating.” 

Tifa would chalk Aerith’s optimism up to naivete, but that’s far from the truth. Aerith’s life hasn’t been a picnic and that she can still be sweet is a testament to her strength. 

Tifa envies her for it. That strength that allows her to be weak. 

“How so?” she asks. 

“Well, I’ve never had a sleepover before,” Aerith says with the frankness that makes Tifa’s heart ache. “Or a girlfriend.” She pauses, cheeks going pink. “I mean, a woman who is a friend. Woman-friend? No, that just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” 

Tifa laughs quietly as Aerith’s face scrunches with genuine confusion. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a girlfriend,” Tifa says. “Most of the kids my age were boys.” 

“Like Cloud?” 

Tifa’s too slow to stop the flinch. It’s hard to say if Aerith noticed. “Yeah,” she says quietly, but then the memory hits her, easing the sting. “Though he’s always been pretty enough.” 

“He sure is.” Aerith giggles and turns on her back, stretching her arms over her head with a hum. “But that’s what I mean. We made a choice and decided to fight, and now here I am, against all odds, on my first sleepover.” 

Tifa doesn’t tell her all the ways this doesn’t count. It’s a simple wish. A simple joy. She wants Aerith to have it. 

“Do you think we should have a pillow fight?” Aerith asks, but before Tifa can answer, she laughs and says, “Hmm. Maybe not. I think you’d win in one hit.” 

“I’d be gentle,” Tifa says. 

“I know you would.” Aerith’s grin makes Tifa’s heart go thump-thump-thump in a way it hasn’t before. 

Aerith abruptly sits up and looks around as if an idea has popped into her mind. “Hmm,” she says. “There’s not enough furniture to make a fort, and I don’t think that vending machine had any candy. I’m stumped on ideas.” 

“Aren’t we a little old for sleepovers anyway?” 

“Probably.” Aerith sighs, and there’s a wealth of disappointment in the small sound. “I guess we should be sleeping. We have a lot more walking ahead of us.” 

Aerith flops back, pulls the blanket up to her chin, and stares at the ceiling. She dutifully closes her eyes, and Tifa feels a bit like she’s kicked a bucket. Could it really hurt to entertain such an innocent joy? 

Tifa rolls off the bed, bringing her blanket with her, and flops down next to Aerith. “Tell me a secret,” she says as she squirms down to get comfortable. 

Aerith blinks at her. “What?” 

“It’s what you do at a sleepover.” At least, in Tifa’s experience, that what she thinks most young girls do. “You tell each other secrets.” 

“Oh.” Aerith’s cheeks turn a pretty pink. “I don’t think I have any that you don’t already know.” She presses her lips together, face scrunched in serious thought. 

“Nothing?” Tifa prompts as she tucks her arm under her head. “Not even an embarrassing story you don’t want anyone to know?” 

Aerith laughs and turns to face her, voice going softer like they are two young woman sharing a secret with no one else. “I have plenty of those stories. But what about you? Do you have any secrets?” 

“Too many,” Tifa sighs, and her thoughts wander again, to home, to Nibelheim, to five long, confusing years, and one stubborn, confusing blond the next room over. Maybe this is a bad idea after all. 

She shouldn’t spill all the troubles on her shoulders. Aerith shouldn’t have to help bear that load. She has enough problems without Tifa adding to her stress. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. 

Tifa shifts, intending to go back to her own bed, and back to chocobo number 964. But Aerith touches her arm, and that’s enough for Tifa to freeze. Surprised. 

“We don’t have to share secrets,” Aerith says, her resting hand curling into a gentle hold, “But we can share the bed. If you want, I mean.” 

Tifa’s heart throbs so loud, it thumps in her ears. Slowly, she settles back into place, arm tingling under the barely noticeable weight of Aerith’s hand. 

“That is one of the rules of sleepovers,” Tifa says, even though they’re both too old and bruised for such a thing. But they are also a lot alike. Tifa’s never had a “girlfriend” either. 

Aerith giggles and winks at her. “I won’t tell if you don’t. It can be our secret.” She holds out a hand, pinky crooked. “Promise?” 

Tifa’s face heats, almost like she’s blushing, but that would be ridiculous. No less ridiculous than hooking her finger with Aerith’s and saying, “Promise.” 

Lying there next to Aerith, Tifa doesn’t even get to chocobo number 965 before she’s fast asleep. 

***

[cambria-writes]

hello! happy new year darlings!

im late for rent (though i did send it a good while ago), one and half family members short and shit's fucked lmao. it's been a rough start of the year, but i hope everyone is doing well, staying hydrated and going to bed at reasonable hours!

bit delayed; i had intended on posting this over a week ago, but i'm a chronically ill bitch so shit kinda happened woops

pairing: patrick jane x reader word count: 2,801 rating: M warning: swearing, named afab reader, no y/n, no physical descriptions, reader is still a bit drunk, description of a panic attack, fuck it we're using british/canadian english now, unspecified age gap but it's there, there's kissing in this one!!

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔯

You wake up without realising you’d fallen asleep. Not entirely convinced you drank enough for it, you chalk it up to exhaustion. Blink a few times to clear your vision. Jane is still driving. By the speed, you must be in a residential area. You’re definitely not on a highway, anyways. Try once to ask where you are, but the words come out mangled and completely unintelligible.

“Glad to see you’re back with us.” The comment somehow irritates you. Grunt a few more times before your tongue can form words.

“Mmnnh, sure. Where—where are we?”

Jane frowns like he’s caught off guard by the question. Really? You just asked where you are. Was he just aimlessly driving? Did he forget you were in the car with him? You almost hope so. That probably means you didn’t snore. That would have been… embarrassing. You blink, and the confused expression is gone. Did you imagine it? Are you still halfway asleep? Maybe. You sink deeper into the car seat.

“I’m taking you home with me,” is the answer Jane settles on.

“Clearly not my home. I couldn’t afford a single room in one of these places,” you mutter, resting your head against the window and watching the streetlights go by. Try not to focus on the strange sensation in your stomach at the thought of actually stepping foot in The Patrick Jane’s home. You’re absolutely not thinking about it. Not at all.

When the car slows you can’t even tell the time on the dash. Not sure what woke up; the slowing car or the tension. Jane helps you pull yourself out of his citroen. Your eyes are closed most of the time. There’s keys rattling and a door opening. Immediately you’re hit with… something. A heavy feeling in the bit of your stomach, pressing uncomfortably against your sternum.

Jane whispers reassurances to you while he acts as a human crutch. Guides you to a couch to sit on. Figure it’s probably comfortable, but something about it feels off. You run your hands on the material of it next to your thigh. You’re not sure if you’re surprised that it’s suede and not leather.

The memory of seeing Jane’s murdered family making headlines comes unbidden. Completely uncalled for. You frown and make a vague attempt at growling the words away.

Warmth pulls at your hand. You realise you closed your eyes again. With bleary eyes, look up in front of you. There’s… no one there. Something in your mind begins to wake up. Twist around, with an arm on the back of the couch, to look behind you. There’s nothing there, either, but… but there’s a door. There’s a door half-hidden by a hallway corner. Screw your eyes shut a few times. Was that door there when you came in? Did you even pass through there on your way in?

When you turn back around to settle into the couch, you rest your head against the back of it. There’s no way you drank enough to be this out of it. Try to remember what you had to drink; there was definitely a lot of wine. More than you’d normally drink but… did you accept a drink from someone else? The poor wannabe mafioso boy? Did someone slip something in your—

“Hey, you with me?”

Jane’s voice startles you. Eyes wide, you catch him retracting the hand he’d reached out with. Clear your throat a few times. How far off in your thoughts were you?

“Yeah, uh—sorry. What’s up?”

The way Jane looks at you is unsettling. His eyes don’t seem to be doing more than flick back and forth between your eyes. You know better. Even your peripheral is picking up on his fingers. He’s… is he fidgeting?

“Are you—”

“I was just—”

Suddenly you’re thankful for the alcohol. This would definitely be the type of awkward situation that makes you want to jump off a cliff. Unpleasant. Jane motions for you to continue.

“I was, I wanted to—are you okay?” Wince at how loud your voice is. You don’t even know what time it is but it’s definitely late enough for there to not be a single sound around. Not even a car idling outside.

“Absolutely,” Jane replies easily, without missing a beat. Strange. “The guest room is ready. Do you need a glass of water?”

You can’t help but frown. There’s something just off about his choice of words and the succinctness he’s speaking with. Without thinking much, you just lean forward to let a finger brush against his left hand and.

And—

And you just drop, boneless, back into the couch like something suckerpunched you. You’re trying desperately to compute what just happened. You saw something. You definitely saw that, right? A bloody smile on the wall and—shit, fuck, were those bodies? Corpses? Was there any way you could’ve heard about that on the news? How much attention do you even pay to the news? Would news outlets have even known about details like that? Where on earth—

Somewhere, very far away, you can hear Jane calling your name. Your ears are ringing. There’s a logical reason for this right? Are you just having a belated post-traumatic episode? Are you just using familiar, impersonal imagery to deal with it?

You feel when Jane puts his hands on your knees. You feel it when his hands on your shoulders, shaking. It’s when his hands are on your face, thumbs brushing your brows, that you gasp for air. Slap a hand to his chest but not–not to push him away. You fist your right hand in his shirt and choke on your breath.

“Come on, breathe with me.”

Shake your head. No. You can’t breathe right. Not yet. Every time you blink you see something else. The note on the door–blink. A barren mattress against a wall–blink. A gasket, half the size it should be–blink. An old tube television playing the same tape over and over–blink. Your hand moves from being balled in Jane’s shirt to grabbing at his neck. Maybe, if it’s just a little more–

You close your eyes longer and screw them shut.

It plays like a movie, being sped up every few seconds. Driving through the house. Walking through the door. Put the mail down. Moving the bikes, training wheels and all. Taking the stairs two by two and then–

The note. The done, read quietly, and the slowly sinking realisation. And then the wall, lit with a lamp and the–

Try to blink the images and the–the tears? Blink all of it away. Bent over at the waist and holding onto Jane for dear life. It’s not what I see that’s distressing. It’s everything that comes with it–the shock, the consuming guilt, the rage and obsession. The dangerous edge that’s just under the surface, sharp enough to cut yourself just getting close to it.

He��s killed people, right? Patrick Jane has killed people. That’s the only way to identify the feeling of black sludge down your throat.

The image of the Devil comes to your mind, unbidden. Horns sharp and flames hot and rusting crown at his feet.

Jane tries to get up but tighten your grip on him. The movement jostles you almost painfully. Realize all your limbs are locked; knees trembling and arms shaking with the effort of holding on and holding still.

“Okay, alright,” you hear him say. Makes himself comfortable in front of you on the couch. “I’m not going anywhere. But you need to breathe, Skye. Whatever’s going on can’t hurt you here. You’re safe.” Slowly moves your hand to rest your fingers on his pulse. Steady, quicker than it should be, but thrumming. Constant.

He repeats a litany of reassurances, says to focus on his voice. The lights are too bright. Your eyes burn. Your throat burns. It hurts to breathe deeply. Try to pace your breathing with his heartbeat. Lose count of how many cycles you do like that.

“Tell me five things you touch,” you hear Patrick say. Safe enough.

“Dress,” you rasp, trying to flex your fingers. “The c-the couch.”

“Good. Keep going. What else can you feel?” The calm in his voice is almost maddening.

“Your–the–your shirt.” Cough once. Twice. Try to breathe deeper. “Your skin. The floor–under my feet. The floor.”

A thumb runs over my left brow. That shouldn’t feel as calming as it does.

“Good girl. You’re doing good,” Jane whispers. Something in his tone makes a shiver rip through your spine into your skull. “Give me four things you can see.”

Choke on the inhale. Only move your eyes. “The window. The coffee table. The fern. The…” You trail off, letting your eyes come back to the man in front of you. “You. I see you.”

“Perfect. Three things you can smell.” When did he move his hand? Why is he brushing hair away from your eyes?

“Dust,” you whisper. You try to add humour to your voice but it falls flat. Desperate. “The wine I drank. You.”

“Good girl. You’re almost there.” Is he… is he closer? “Two things you can hear.”

You exhale loudly and hope it conveys annoyance. There’s fucking nothing do be heard.

“My breathing, I-I guess.” All at once, it’s like the tension leaves your body. You let your head fall forward, rest your forehead against his. “You.”

“I’m going to start discounting that as an answer,” Patrick says, and you can feel the chuckle rumble between you. “One thing you can taste.”

You don’t let yourself think before you angle your head up an inch–the most movement you feel capable of, limbless as you feel. And kiss his forehead. Jane stays stone-still in front of you when you lick your lips.

“Am I still allowed to say y–”

All at once he crowds into you, forcing you to unfold, lean back into the couch. One knee propped next to your hip, one hand on the back of the couch and the hand at your cheek pulling you in.

But he stops just close enough for you to feel his breath against your lips.

The only thing you can hear really is both of your breathing, laboured and unsteady. Neither of you move; your hand grasping at his shirt trapped between you and your other at his jaw.

“You,” you whisper, taking a chance to break the silence. “I taste you.”

Jane keeping his silence for several interminably long moments. You can’t tell if it’s your heartbeat you can feel drumming through your arms or if it’s his.

“You’re impossible,” is all he says before taking his hand off the back of the couch and crushing his lips to yours.

You sigh through your nose and the rest of the tension leaves your body. You feel like you’re floating. It’s just a press of lips–nothing untoward, nothing explicit. But the way Patrick cards his fingers through the back of your hair has you feeling like you’re floating. Curl an arm around his neck to run your fingers through his hair in return.

Of course it’s fucking soft.

When Jane pulls back–slowly, like you’re a wounded animal ready to run at the first sign of movement–you try to follow. The squeeze of a hand at the back of your nek has you stay put.

“You need to sleep this off,” he says, and you resent how unbothered he sounds. Make a discontent sound at the back of your throat, which he has the gall to god damn scoff at. “You’re drunk and you just had a panic attack, Skye. You need to sleep.”

You sigh again and stare resolutely, though half-lidded, at a point beyond his right shoulder. You feel absolutely drained.

You weren’t exactly in full possession of your faculties earlier, and though you’re significantly less panicked, it feels like your skull is full of cotton. Everything seems to pass through like air.

“Not alone,” is the one condition you provide. You hope it sounds like it’s non negotiable. Because it isn’t. Falling asleep alone in this house, with all its windowed walls, would have been unnerving enough.

“Okay,” Jane says, after a second. “Can you stand on your own?”

Though you can, after being given the space to do so, you have to lean against him to actually walk.

“I think I was drugged,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on your feet. “I can’t think.”

Jane hums, but doesn’t offer any more of an answer than that. If you could just fathom the roads of your thoughts into a map, maybe you could figure out what that’s supposed to mean. You can’t, so you let it go. You’re slowly escorted to a double bed with the sheets peeled back. When Jane sits you down at the edge of the bed, it takes most of the energy you have left to turn around.

His fingers are warm when you feel them at your back, but they don’t move. You’re about to ask what’s wrong–or at least why he stopped–when you hear Jane pull away, followed by the rustling of clothes.

Your heart jumps into your throat and stays there.

“What are you–” You get cut off when arms circle around you and drape a very familiar button down across your front.

All you can think of is that it smells almost unbearably like him.

Warm hands are at your back again, and this time the zipper is slid down. Jane brushes the straps of your dress down your shoulders before stepping back again.

“You step out of your dress after you’ve put the shirt on,” he says quietly. “I’ll turn around until you say.”

You nod, mostly to yourself. Okay. Sure. Modesty. This is normal. This is what normal people who are adults and not in a relationship do. This is fine.

God, when was the last time literally anything was fine?

You swallow past the lump in your throat and slip the straps off your arms. Loop them into the sleeves and button the shirt from your sternum down. Sit on the edge of the bed properly and tug your dress off your legs from beneath the shirt. Keep your eyes on the floor the entire time.

“I’m–you’re good,” you stutter, playing with the edge of starched sleeves. And lift your eyes.

You absolutely refuse to look too closely at why your stomach feels like it’s doing its best impression of the Cirque du Soleil and immediately look away. It’s hard to breathe again.

This is what normal people who are adults and not in a relationship do. This is fine.

Jane says nothing as he walks up to you. Leans over to pull more of the comforter down, and you fixate on the nearest collarbone. He straightens only to place a hand on your shoulder and one at the back of your head–guiding you down until your head meets the pillow. Carefully gathers your legs and tucks them underneath the comforter.

His eyes don’t leave yours the entire time.

He only turns around once he’s brought the sheets up past your chest, and moves to the corner of the room to grab a chair. Brings it next to you when you lay in the bed.

“You can’t–Jane there’s no way I’m making you sleep in a chair in your own house,” you start to argue, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“I’d keep you awake,” is the answer he offers. There’s nothing to read in his tone or his face, again. Just a blank statement that you’re perfectly at liberty of interpreting however you want.

“I’m in a bed I’ve never been in before in a house where…” You trail off. The fog in your head might be so thick you’d need a chisel to cut through it, but even now you can tell that bringing up murder is a bad idea. “In a house where I feel like a fish in a tank.”

Jane exhales sharply, akin to a laugh, but lets his hand rest on the pillow next to your head.

“You won’t be alone,” he says calmly. Knowingly. Bite your lip and turn to your side, to face him, and carefully put your hand in his.

It’s nice, for some reason. Seeing your hand in his. Seeing his dwarf yours.

“Sleep, Skye.” Jane settles into his chair, lets his head rest against the back and lets his other arm rest in his lap. Closes his eyes. “You can tell me everything in the morning.”

You huff–annoyed, confused, amused–but close your eyes, too.

And if you don’t dream of anything, when your heart finally calms down and you can finally slip into unconsciousness. It may have something to do with the warm body you wake up wrapped around in the morning.

𝓣𝓪𝓰���𝓲𝓼𝓽

let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the next update :)

@fucklife-or-me @newavenger @yearningforsappho @mamacakeishereforfun

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer - Track 07 - Let's Hit the Road

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 07 Word Count: 3.2k+

It was mid-October when Halo and I packed up my little Volkswagen Beetle (that I’d named Lovely Rita three years ago) to hit the road for Wildfire’s first west coast tour. Their album had been released a couple weeks prior and was already getting decent reviews. Their first single was also getting airplay, and it always made me smile with pride when I’d hear it. As a combination release party and farewell/good luck, they had another show at the Troubadour where I finally got to meet Mr. Irving.

That’s what I called him, Mr. Irving. He’d insisted I not call him Mr. Azoff but simply Irving, but I just couldn’t let the Mister go. Because despite his small stature, he was most definitely a Mister. He seemed to be very fond of Harry though, which made me feel at ease.

“Don’t forget your camera!” Halo called to me from her bedroom.

“I’ve got it,” I called back.

I’d almost forgotten it, actually. When I had begun packing my suitcase, I suddenly remembered that it was still in my duffle bag that I’d taken with me to Chula Vista. I’d also forgotten about the film in it. Harry had used the rest of it taking photos at the Holiday Inn, but I had yet to get them developed. I was itching to know what they were, but it was too late now, so I’d have to wait even longer. Grabbing my new roll of film that Harry’d bought to replace what he’d used, I tossed it along with my camera in my tote.

“Aren’t you bringing your guitar?” asked Halo when I shut the trunk.

“Oh, yeah!”

Running back to the apartment, I grabbed my most prized possession from my bedroom and headed back down the stairs.

“Let’s hit the road!” I cheered when I set my guitar in the back seat.

Halo hooted as she got into the passenger seat and I cranked up Rita. I smiled as the sound of the Eagles played through my speakers.

“Put me on a highway And show me a sign And take it to the limit one more time…”

Yes…I took it as a very good sign.

Halo and I arrived in San Francisco just before three when we checked into our motel room. Although Lee and Deacon still weren’t crazy about the idea of us tagging along on the road, we’d made a compromise that we would stay in our own rooms and drive my car to and from the venues. They seemed to be cool with that, although Mitch and Harry made it a point to show their disdain.

I’d just gotten out of the shower, my towel wrapped around me when the phone in the room rang. Sitting on my bed, I answered it.

“Hey, you’re here!” cheered Harry.

“I’m here!” I echoed, glad I’d told him which motel we were staying in.

“We just wrapped up soundcheck, and I’m back in my room.”

“Are you excited?”

“Nervous.”

“No, you’re not!” I corrected. “You’re never nervous.”

“Gotta say, I kind of am right now.”

“Oh. Anything I can do?”

I heard Harry chuckle from deep within his throat. “No, don’t think so.”

“Okay…well, good luck! You’ll be great, I know.”

“Thanks, babe.”

I giggled when I hung up the phone, not at Harry, but at his nervousness. It was cute. If he was ever nervous before, he never showed it. And I doubted he would show it tonight.

After dressing in one of my favorite chiffon tops and bell bottoms, I sat on the bed and strummed my guitar as I waited for Halo.

“Hey, play that song you were working on the other day,” I heard her sing from the bathroom.

“What song?”

“From that album you just bought recently. Heart.”

I smiled as I tried to recall the chords. Then I let the melody take me to my magical place as I sang along to my own accompaniment.

“Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a place to go Where the melody’s fine Sometimes I’m not so strong And even now I could be wrong But if you love me like music I’ll be your song…”

Halo applauded when I finished, her beautiful face beaming.

“You’re so good, Sky. Was that for Harry?”

I chuckled. “Was what for him?”

“That song. You want him to love you like music.”

I rolled my eyes as she turned to brush her hair in the mirror. I watched as she stroked it several times, then stopped and turned around again.

“Do you love him like music?” she asked.

I laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I asked. For almost as long as I’ve known you, music has been your one true love. Are your feelings for Harry like your feelings for music?”

I blinked, preparing myself for a response, but none came. I was tongue-tied.

“Uh huh,” Halo nodded, continuing with her hair brushing. “Thought so.”

I shook my head, my tongue finally catching up with my brain. “I don’t think my feelings for Harry are even close to love.”

“Really?” she glared at me in the mirror. “Coulda fooled me.”

“Seriously, Halo,” I argued as I tried to convince myself as much as her. “It’s no different from you and Mitch. He’s a musician. He’s…a rockstar. It’s just sex.”

Dropping her brush on the counter, Halo grabbed her folded wad of cash and tucked it into her bra.

“Sky,” she said, “you’re really talented. You have the voice of an angel. You could be just as famous as Joni Mitchell. But do me a favor…never become an actress.”

“Why?” I gave her a questioning look as I followed her to the door.

“Because, you’re a terrible liar.”

“If there’s a rock show at the Concertgebow They’ve got long hair at the Madison Square You’ve got rock and roll at the Hollywood Bowl We’ll be there, ooh yeah…”

Halo and I blasted the Wings song with the windows down as I pulled into the parking lot of the venue. I felt it was the perfect song to set the tone for the evening.

It wasn’t a massive venue, but I was surprised to see a large crowd near the entrance. It actually took us a while to get inside, and once we did, it felt like it was just wall to wall people. I’d been to many concerts before, but this was the largest crowd I’d ever seen for Wildfire. Their album was barely out, so this kind of turn-out was proof that they were going to be hugely popular. This was only the beginning, I told myself.

When the band stepped out, the audience went wild. Halo and I hadn’t made it to the front near the stage yet, so we stood back and watched for a minute or two. It was actually pretty thrilling to see them from that perspective since we were always up front. The only other time I’d seen them from further back was at that country bar where I’d sat on my stool. This was very different. I got to watch the people cheering and singing along to songs I’d already known for months, but they’d only just recently heard for the first time.

I raised my camera in my hands and began to capture photos of the band, getting some really great ones of Harry.

“Look at ‘em!” Halo yelled in my ear. “They’re meant for this, aren’t they?”

I nodded, though my focus was not on they, but him. Only him. And yes, he was meant for this.

During the second song, I felt a push behind me and turned to see three girls making their way around us to get to the front. One of them, a blonde in a furry vest over a top very similar to mine, stepped on my foot in her horrendous clogs.

“Oww, son of a bitch!” I screamed.

The blonde looked back at me for a millisecond, a glance that told me she wasn’t sorry one bit, before her friends pulled her to the stage.

“You okay?” asked Halo, realizing what had happened.

“I think she broke my toe.”

“Can you wiggle it?”

I made a face when I noticed I could. But I knew it would be throbbing all night.

“C’mon,” Halo grabbed my arm. “Let’s get closer.”

Weaving through the crowd, we made it as close as we could to the band, directly behind the toe stomper and her friends. I found myself sticking my tongue out at the back of her head, but of course she never noticed.

It didn’t matter anyway because when the song was over and Harry did his welcoming speech, he spotted me and waved. I waved back and he grinned, giving a thumbs up before introducing the next song. The blonde’s friend to her right must have noticed because our eyes met quickly before she nudged furry vest. When she turned around, I raised my brows, waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t. She merely shrugged at her friend, then went back to ogling at the band, or whatever she was doing.

Halo and I pranced and cheered just like we always did. We didn’t really need to be the cheerleaders this time though. It was apparent by the end of the night that they’d made it. Anything from here on out would just be icing on the cake.

Harry gave a huge thank you speech before the last song, sending the crowd into another uproar of hoots and whistles. I almost thought he was going to cry from all the pride he must have felt at that moment. And rightly so. My own chest was about to explode, my heart could hardly take it.

He blew a few kisses out into the audience. When his eyes met mine again, he winked, seeming to blow me my own personal kiss. I smiled as I pretended to catch it and held it to my chest. Harry shook his head, his smile so wide and beaming so brightly that I thought surely he was the source of all light.

Toe stomper and her friends all glared at me then, and I felt Halo poke me in the side, no doubt finding humor in it all and enjoying herself.

“You know him?” asked the friend on the right.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah.”

“She’s his girlfriend,” added Halo.

I glared at her with wide eyes, but it didn’t compare to the astonishment on the face of the blonde. Halo chuckled and looped her arm through mine. Then she pulled me to the side of the stage while the band finished their final song.

“I can’t believe you said that!” I exclaimed.

“So what? It’s pretty much true.”

“No, it’s not. Harry and I haven’t-“

“Look at ‘em, those girls are so jealous, they’re faces are turning green. Especially that girl who stepped on your foot.”

“I don’t want them to be jealous,” I disagreed.

“Why not?”

“Because…there’s nothing to be jealous of.”

Halo shook her head, exasperated. “Wake up, Sky, will you? Did you see how he looked at you? Did you see?”

How could I not? His smile was probably permanently tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.

“He wasn’t looking at anybody else like that. You’re the one he’s most excited to see out there.”

Though I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if I believed her, I felt a flutter in my stomach as the band exited the stage and Halo grabbed my hand again.

At first, the guard wouldn’t let us backstage. We begged and pleaded, and even turned on the charm but to no avail. Standing back with our arms crossed, thinking this whole tour thing might’ve been a bad idea, I suddenly saw a man in a suit make his way to the security guard.

“Mr. Azoff!” I squealed.

He frowned when he first turned his head, but when he realized who I was, he smiled.

“Hello, Sky. Please, call me Irv-“

“Mr. Irving, sorry,” I said out of breath. “They won’t let us back there. I don’t think they believe we’re with the band.”

“Everyone’s with the band, Miss,” spat the guard.

“It’s no problem, Monty,” Mr. Azoff explained. I wondered if he already knew his name, or had just read his name tag. “They’re with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

And just like that, Halo and I were admitted backstage with Irving Azoff, manager extraordinaire.

“There you are!” shouted Harry as soon as he saw me. He nearly jogged to me, making me smile from ear to ear. “Thought something happened to you.”

“It did. The guard wouldn’t let us in. But Mr. Irving came to the rescue.”

I could feel the grin still plastered on my face as his mimicked mine. Then he licked his lips, took my face in his hands and kissed me. Not just a peck either, but a full-on tongue kiss, right in front of everybody. Not that they were really paying attention. I had no idea what else to do other than melt.

“So glad you’re here,” he murmured when he broke the kiss.

“You were great.”

“You look great,” he added with a wiggle of his brows. His pointer finger ran down my neck to the V in my top that met my cleavage. “I like this.”

I bit my lip as I watched his gaze travel down my body. I could feel my insides ignite just as he shifted his eyes back to mine.

“Wanna stay with me tonight?” he asked, his voice low, but apparently loud enough that Lee heard.

“No.”

“What?” Harry and I both voiced at the same time.

“We agreed. No girls.” I looked over at Lee who sat on the sofa next to Deacon.

“No we didn’t,” argued Harry.

“Yes. That was the pact. Sky and Halo wanted to come, but we agreed only if they stay in their own room,” said Lee.

“All night?” Harry asked incredulously.

I held my hand over my mouth to keep from giggling, although in truth none of this was funny.

“Actually, Harry,” said Mr. Irving whom I’d almost forgotten was in the room, “I don’t think that’s such a bad idea.”

“You don’t?”

“No. So many bands start out strong and let the girls become too much a part of their lifestyle that they forget what’s important.”

I could see Harry’s shoulders drop in defeat.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Perhaps taking a vow of abstinence…or um…semi-abstinence might be the way to go for a while. I’m sure the girls will understand. They adore your music after all.”

I stared at Mr. Irving who gave me a gentle smile. I had to hand it to him. He was good.

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered under his breath as he turned from me and walked to the other side of the room. “You guys are gonna make me a virgin again.”

Wildfire had two more consecutive shows after that, one in Oakland and another in Santa Rosa, both with great turnouts. I was so proud of Harry, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to show him. But with all the time on the road and having to sleep in separate quarters, our time together was limited.

Finally, the band had a free day between shows in Sacramento. Harry invited me over to his hotel, which in reality was another motel, just nicer than mine. We were both hungry, so we decided to walk the streets in search of something to eat. Strolling hand in hand, we talked about music mostly, and where else the tour was headed. Apparently, Mr. Azoff had them going further north to a couple cities in Oregon, but I wouldn’t be attending those. I still had a job back home that I had to get back to, at least for a while. Then I was going to be rejoining them when they got closer south again.

“So tell me, Harry,” I grinned, swinging our hands between us, “How do you like the tour so far?”

“Love it. Almost everything about it. But there’s one little thing I don’t like. In fact, I hate it.”

I paused my steps to look at him, a serious expression on his face, his brows knitted together.

“What’s that?”

“I’m going absolutely mad not being able to touch you.”

My own expression relaxed as I tugged on his hand.

“Who says you can’t touch me?”

Harry’s face brightened as his lips curled into a smile. Then he leaned forward and kissed me.

“Maybe…um…after we eat…we can…go back to the hotel.”

“Uh huh.”

“No sex though.”

“Nuh uh.”

Harry nodded, licking his lips. We found a McDonald’s and decided to bring our food back to his room. We sat on the bed and ate while trying to find something to watch on television.

“Ooh! Leave it there!” I instructed when I saw a glimpse of Ali MacGraw.

“This is a sad movie,” he groaned.

“But it’s one of my favorites.”

Grabbing his burger, Harry sat back against the headboard next to me. We watched the rest of Love Story, and knowing full well I would, I cried like the first time I saw it. Harry put his arm around me and allowed me to sob in his chest, getting his t-shirt a little wet.

“Sorry,” I whispered when the movie was over. “I always cry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s sad.”

When I looked up, I thought I caught a little glimmer of wetness in his eyes too, but he quickly blinked it away and I wasn’t about to call him on it.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Remember when you told me songs are memories? And that even if it’s a sad memory, it’s okay? It’s a good thing?”

“Yes.”

“Do…do you have any songs like that? You know, that’s connected to something sad?”

Harry considered my question for a moment, his eyes staring at the wall. Then he blinked and looked at me.

“Joy to the World,” he answered.

“The Christmas song?”

“No. Three Dog Night.”

I burst out laughing. “Seriously? Why?”

“It’s actually connected to a lot of happy memories,” explained Harry. “Simon fucking loved that song. He was trying to be this tough kid, but no matter where we went, if that song came on, he’d stand up, clap and sing a long. Sometimes he’d change the lyrics.”

“Like what?” I grinned.

“He’d sing ‘Harrimiah was a bullfrog’,” chuckled Harry. “He started calling me that, too. He thought he was funny.”

“And you thought he was too.”

“Yeah.”

“You miss him.”

Harry blinked and nodded.

“But you have great memories forever.”

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I took that as my cue. Something else was itching at me to ask him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“I should get going.”

Harry walked me to the door where he kissed me again.

“Wish you would stay,” he murmured against my neck.

“Me too,” I agreed. “But…rules.”

“Aaagghhh fuck that! I feel like I’m in a bloody prep school. Stay.”

I sighed as I lifted my fingers to touch his lips. “Next time. I think maybe the longer we show Lee and Deacon - and Mr. Irving - how we can hold out and be big kids, the sooner they might decide to take the chains off.”

“Good point. But just know I hate this.”

“Me too.”

I drove back to my room I shared with Halo to find her on the phone with Mitch. I shook my head as I went to the bathroom. There was no way any of us were gonna make it through this entire tour.

Songs mentioned:

Eagles - Take It To the Limit

Heart - (Love Me Like Music) I'll Be Your Song

Wings - Rock Show

Three Dog Night - Joy to the World

I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter and found the humor in it, because re-reading it myself made me giggle all over again ;)

[liesmyteachertoldme]

The US Department of Transportation clearly has a lot on its plate.

America’s infrastructure is not in great shape. The American Society of Civil Engineers (ASCE) grades America’s roads, bridges, and public transportation a C- overall.

In fact 42% of US bridges are at least 50 years old, and nearly 7.5% are considered structurally deficient. 43% of public roads are rated as mediocre or poor.

Then there’s the sorry state of US railways, many of which are considered ancient by industry standards. And despite the “High Speed Ground Transportation Act” being passed SIX DECADES AGO in 1965, the amount of high-speed rail in the US is pitifully low.

There are also seemingly constant problems with US air traffic, especially at major airports.

But what has US Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg done thus far during his tenure to address these challenges?

Well, after Congress handed him an astonishing $1 TRILLION to fix America’s crumbling infrastructure, he’s managed to spend $7.5 billion to build a grand total of seven electric vehicle charging stations across the country. Clearly that’s money well spent.

But now Secretary Pete has shifted his gaze to America’s biggest transportation problem.

It’s not highways. Or bridges. Or even electric charging stations.

Secretary Pete is now devoting precious taxpayer resources to regulating airline points... as in the frequent flier miles and other reward points that you get whenever you fly with a major airline or even sign up for a new credit card.

Last week, the government announced that Secretary Pete has “sent letters to American Airlines, Delta Air Lines, Southwest Airlines, and United Airlines ordering them to provide records and submit reports with detailed information about their rewards programs, practices, and policies.”

First of all, what do credit card reward point have anything to do with infrastructure? And second, even if we want to accept Pete’s bird-brained logic, how could anyone possibly argue that airline miles should be anywhere near the Department’s top priorities?

Yet Secretary Pete is fixed in his duty. He claims that:

“...points systems like frequent flyer miles and credit card rewards have become such a meaningful part of our economy that many Americans view their rewards points balances as part of their savings... But unlike a traditional savings account, these rewards are controlled by a company that can unilaterally change their value.”

What an interesting point of view. Airline points are a form of savings that is controlled by a company which can unilaterally change its value.

Gee where might I have seen that before....

OH, I remember! Like how the Federal Reserve can unilaterally inflate the value of the dollar, i.e. the actual form of savings that people all over the world use? Or, even better, how the US government can destroy the value of the dollar through its reckless and irresponsible deficit spending?

It is utterly hilarious (though simultaneously pathetic) that Secretary Pete has no concept of this irony.

This is the guy who has spent $7.5 billion dollars on building seven electric vehicle charging stations, an average cost of more than $1 billion per charging station.

Guess what, Pete? Your staggering waste of taxpayer money has contributed to the decline in value of the US dollar. But, sure, keep going after those airline points, bro.

If you thought airline points were declining in value now, just wait to see how worthless they become once Pete starts regulating these programs. How many segments will you have to fly in economy class to rack up enough points for that family vacation to Key West next year? Pete will decide. It’s genius.

Sadly this is not an isolated issue within the Department of Transportation. Agencies all over the federal government have abandoned their core missions and are instead focused on their leftist agenda.

The Federal Trade Commission, for example, exists to protect consumers from monopolies. Instead they’re busy suing grocery store chains over “greed” and made-up threats to unions.

The US Committee on Foreign Investment exists to ensure that state secrets and strategic technology don’t fall into the hands of America’s adversaries. But this same agency is now killing a deal for US Steel to be acquired by a Japanese company (i.e. one of America’s biggest allies) because the labor unions don’t like it.

The list goes on and on. The State Department is handing out money to America’s sworn enemy in Afghanistan. The Treasury Department is setting up banking systems that fund terrorism.

Everything the government is doing is the exact opposite of what is needed to address THE largest threat to America— its massive debts.

They spend like drunken sailors and focus their efforts on destroying the economy... instead of allowing it to flourish and generate much-needed tax revenue.

And that’s why, even though America’s problems are still fixable, I highly doubt anyone in charge will use the rapidly closing window of opportunity to address them.

That’s why it makes so much sense to have a Plan B.

To your freedom,

James Hickman

Co-Founder, Schiff Sovereign LLC

[starlightandfairies]

Memory ~Bucky Barnes~

Description: Bucky swears he's seen the reader before, somewhere in a distant memory.

Warnings: Swearing, she/her pronouns, fluff, angst, author announcement at the end of the

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view, E/C = your eye colour

Word Count: 1,259

Masterpost!

Bucky's POV

I knew that face, I knew that smile, I knew that giggle and that kindness in her heart. I didn't know how, or where but I knew her from somewhere. I didn't even realise Steve approaching me, I was too focused on this girl to acknowledge his presence.

"Buck...Stop staring." I glanced at Steve, breaking my train of thought and started speaking about my thoughts.

"Steve, I know that girl, I don't know how but I know her." Steve sat next to me, frowning slightly, I took a breath and knew that this meant something.

"What is it? Don't lie to me!" Steve glanced at her for a few moments, the look in his eye made me uncomfortable. The fear of what would be in his words terrified me, did I hurt this girl as the Winter Solider? Did I kill someone she loved?

"Buck, she was your fiance back in the 40s. Y/N went missing a few weeks before what happened on the train, Hydra took her and she was brutally tortured, the team found her in cryo a few years ago. How they left her, she was bruised and might as well be dead. She was told that she was meant to be used to hurt you more but they never actually did that... she doesn't really talk about it."

It was too much, this gorgeous woman was my fiance? That poor girl suffered because Hydra thought they wanted to use her to hurt me, this poor girl was tortured and left alive for so many years.

I felt myself staring at her again, she was trying to prove a point to Stark and was trying to get him to see it from her point of view, trying to make him understand that it didn't just need to be his way or the highway. The girl stormed off, coming towards us and I panicked. Steve held me down from jumping up and running away.

"Y/N everything okay?" Steve questioned, patting my back as he took a step in front of me, blocking me more as I kept my head down.

"I'm fine, Stark's a dick, I take it too personally." She brushed off her own problems, it came to me as I remember her doing that before I lost everything and the girl placed on a frustrated smile to hide the rest of her feelings.

"Bucky?" I glanced up hearing her voice call my name, she stared at me shocked and looking extra emotional. Steve walked away, leaving the two of us to be alone, the girl stared at me for a few moments and I couldn't take the silence, I went to say something but before I could the girl was attached to me, holding me tightly and sobbing quietly.

"I didn't know you were back, I didn't know that you were alive... Bucky, I've missed you, I've missed you so much." I hugged her tightly, never wanting to let go of her again, never wanting her to be left alone and feel like she didn't have anyone.

"I missed you too, doll. I missed you a lot." I whispered, feeling a rush of memories come back that I wish never left me and that I wish I never forgot." The small girl clutched onto my shirt, tears soaking through and little whimpers escaping her lips. I sat down with her, trying to hold back my own tears as I stared at her, drying away her tears and giving her a smile.

"They got me, they were going to use me to hurt you but they never did. They just hurt me and finally left me in that fucking tube. Bucky, I would've tried to help you if I could, all that shouldn't have happened to you. I'm sorry Bucky." She felt bad? She was holding that in her heart for all these years? I shook my head, grabbing her hand in mine and giving her a gentle smile.

"No, I am so glad that you didn't because you would've been in much more trouble and I wouldn't be able to handle knowing that you were being hurt even more because you tried helping me. You didn't deserve it, there's no way that you deserved it." The girl chuckled quietly, obviously trying to deny something and avoiding my gaze.

"I missed you." She whispered, I nodded, pulling her in once again and hugging her to calm her down and make all the pain disappear. Or at least make it feel like the pain wasn't there.

"I know. I never stopped loving you, I never stopped missing you." I hoped that she hadn't moved on and gotten into a new relationship. I know, it's ridiculous to spring that upon her, it ridiculous to make her pressured and it's never what I want to do to her but I couldn't help the words that escaped my lips. "I love you too, I love you. I couldn't move on, I'm sorry Bucky... I know you told me too before you left but I couldn't."

"Please stop apologising." I begged her, grabbing her hands and looking deep into those E/C eyes. She nodded, took a breath and fiddled with my hands.

"What if we dated again? See if you still love me and aren't scared of me?" The girl nodded, smiling at the idea and yet there was some denial about the idea.

"I don't think I wouldn't love you any more or stop loving you. But I'm happy with the idea." I nodded, smiling back and took a breath as I prepared myself to say the next words.

"What did Stark do?"

"Nothing."

"You did that when we were kids, you did it when we were engaged and you're doing it now. Y/N stop doing that, stop denying your problems and stop feeling bad when you try and explain it." The girl nodded, knowing she needed to improve on it and needed not to feel bad.

"Stark is an arrogant prick, he can only see things his way, he can't understand things that are done his way and I hate it. I need to say something, say something to help with everything but he can't listen in and I hate it, it's frustrating." I nodded, hearing her out and knew that Stark wasn't the easiest of people to get on with.

"He's a jerk, I don't think I'll ever get on with him either, we can both hate him." She giggled, nodding and pushing herself up, taking me with her.

"Where are we going?"

"Where we can just be you and I can just be that."

I followed her to her room, following her through a little door blocked by a bookshelf and smiled as I saw the fairy lights lighting up the place, two bean bags, books and blankets on the floor. It was her place to feel peace and It seemed that no one else had known of this.

I moved the bean bags to be side by side, smiling as some of her favourite songs from back in the day started playing and she looked around with a smile and sat beside me

"First date, today, right now?" She whispered, I nodded, liking that idea.

"Yeah, let's do it."

[chaotic-goodsir]

@ashturns30 Happy birthday week! I hope it's okay for me to join in with this challenge, even if I cheated by only making something for one day and posting it a day late 😅

Your fic Remember You Like A Song - which everyone should go read first if they haven't, because it's brilliant - is THE fic that got me invested in MacNaCross in the first place. This was going to be just a short, extremely fluffy pre-portal drabble-thing inspired by it, but I got carried away and it ended up longer than planned. I hope you don't mind me posting something inspired by your fic, but no worries at all if you do for any reason - just let me know and I'll take it down.

Anyway, thank you for hosting this challenge and I hope you have a great birthday week!

***

What Was The One You Always Loved?

The highway outside is a river of speeding taillights in the dark, reflecting red and green and yellow in the rain that runs down the diner's grease-streaked window.

Steam rises from the mug of black coffee in John's hands as he waits for it to cool, soaking in the warmth. The caffeine fix should, in theory, keep him awake long enough to reach the motel PIEP have booked for them without collapsing on the side of the road.

Two pairs of motorbike gloves lie on the table, beside his wallet and an almost-empty pack of cigarettes (he'll have to pick up more at the gas station before they leave). Across the booth, Wilbur frowns at his strawberry milkshake, stirring it with a red-and-white striped plastic straw.

'I swear they used to put more sprinkles on these.' There's a solemn gravity to his tone that few people but Wil could apply to the matter at hand. 'Used to be more colours as well. Half of these are just red. What's that about?'

'Is there a difference?' John asks. 'Surely they all just taste of sugar?'

Wilbur scoops a piece of cream and eats it from the end of the straw, the actual spoon lying ignored on the table.

'Its about the principle, Johnny' he says, stabbing the straw into the air between them like a teacher illustrating a point. 'If they're gonna call them 'rainbow' sprinkles, there oughta at least be an even ratio of colours.'

John smiles, taking a sip of still-too-hot coffee.

'Duly noted, Lieutenant Colonel.'

'Don't give me that cheek, MacNamara,' Wilbur says, grinning. 'You lectured me on the flaws of digital watches for half an hour yesterday.'

'Yes, because I can't in good conscience let you waste your money on such an abomination. Time is-'

'-a precious thread in the fabric of the universe, deserves respect, sure, I get it. And sprinkles are a precious thread in the fabric of a good milkshake.'

'I'm not sure the metaphor works quite so well in this case.'

Predictably, a dollop of cream is flicked his way. He dodges with practiced ease, laughing. It hits the back of the booth, earning them a scowl from a passing waitress that's probably deserved.

The diner is quiet, save a couple of fellow travellers and a few employees unlucky enough to be working late. There's a jukebox in the corner - a classic, vintage one with that archway shape and faded neon lighting - but the scrap of paper taped to the front reads Out Of Service. A cheap plastic radio on the counter provides the alternative, courtesy of some local station's late-night show. The host sounds as though he'd rather be at home in bed. John can't help but sympathise.

A familiar sequence of strummed chords catches his attention. He taps his fingers silently against the coffee mug and listens, remembering last year on the drive back from Shenandoah National Park. (Almost a year ago, now, though it doesn't feel it. Time, for all it's importance, is a wily creature that slips away if you lower your guard.)

*

It was late summer, the tail end of a slow August. The road wound it's way like a silver snake through a sea of green just beginning to turn gold, and Wilbur was leaning against the window on the passenger side, explaining to John why he should learn to ride a motorbike.

He made some good points, but John was only half-listening, distracted by the song playing on the radio. It had seemed to fit the drive, the scenery, the whole weekend, so perfectly that it had buried itself in his brain in a way that music usually doesn't. He's heard it a few times since, always fondly picturing the same memory. And yet he's never managed to catch its name.

*

He tests the temperature of his coffee again, the burn on his tongue bringing him back to the moment.

'You good?' Wilbur asks, reaching a hand across the table. John puts the mug down and takes it, lacing their fingers together.

'Just tired.'

'You look half-dead, darlin'. No offence.'

'Coffee should help. Do you know what song this is?'

Wilbur tilts his head a little, listening.

'This one? Nah, I don't. Why?'

'No particular reason. I just like it.'

That earns him an odd sort of look, followed by a pause and a quiet 'huh' that's half a laugh.

'What's funny?'

'S'just I think that's the first time you've expressed an opinion on music that I didn't ask you for.'

John opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again. He knows he's told Wilbur how musical theatre makes him uncomfortable, and why loud music in grocery stores should be banned (it's distracting, there's no need for it, they're awful places already with their fluorescent lighting and endless rows of too many options...) - but those are probably not the kind of opinions Wilbur is talking about.

John's never had a favourite song - it's Wil whose CD collection takes up two shelves of the bookcase in their living room - but if you held a gun to his temple and demanded he choose, he'd probably pick this.

'I think I've heard this before,' Wilbur is saying now. 'It's cute, all that kiss me stuff. Very romantic. Didn't know that was your kinda thing.'

John turns his face to the window, a little embarrassed. It doesn't help his case that the singer is crooning something saccharine about fireflies.

*

The night before the drive home, the lightning bugs had surrounded their campsite, like miniature fallen stars hovering in the dusk. They were part of the reason John had wanted to come out to Shenandoah. After a week spent handling an a gruesome case, he needed the reminder that the world was more than just horror and paperwork. That sometimes it could also be beautiful.

Wilbur stood behind him on the slope of the hill, arms wrapped around John's waist. He was talking, of course. This time about watching fireflies in his parents backyard as a kid.

'They looked like this, mostly. But sometimes you'd get these weird green ones...'

'Green?' John asked.

'Yeah. Bright green, like... neon, or somethin'. They moved differently, too. Made this weird noise, sorta like whispering. Never seen them anywhere else.'

'You're sure they were fireflies?'

'I don't know,' Wilbur leaned forward, resting his chin on John's shoulder. 'Probably just imagined it. I was a weird kid. No one believed me then, either.'

John took a drag on his cigarette, careful to angle the cloud of smoke away from Wilbur's face.

'Whatever you saw, I'm sure it was real. Many things exist in this universe. There's room in the scope of infinity for green fireflies.'

Wilbur had pulled him closer, kissing him on the cheek.

'See, this is why I like ya so much. Don't matter how crazy I sound, you'll still give me a chance.'

John had laughed at that, watching the ordinary, yellow-gold fireflies form constellations around them, a million tiny fires to match the glow of his cigarette. He'd had the sudden, irrational urge to suggest they stay - pack up their tent tomorrow, leave the car behind and keep walking into the wilderness. Become their own unsolved mystery. Abandon PIEP and everything it demanded of them. Hell, even go looking for green fireflies.

He didn't dare mention it. The concept itself was less terrifying than the thought that Wilbur might agree.

'Mmm,' he'd answered instead. 'I wonder what that says about the both of us.'

*

The song fades out, lyrics first and chords trailing after. The DJ's bored monotone takes over. To John's mild irritation, he's managed to miss the name of the song yet again.

'...thank you to Jodie for requesting that one - I hope you and your husband have a wonderful wedding anniversary. So, next up we have...'

Wil stops tracing lazy circles on the back of John's hand and glances towards the radio with an amused smile.

'What?' John asks, raising an eyebrow. 'You're plotting something.'

'Me? Never. Just thinkin' I'm gonna need to find out what that song is called, since you like it so much. For future reference, y'know?'

He winks.

John frowns back, awaiting an explanation.

'For when I get round to marryin' you. Assumin' you'd want me?'

John almost spits out the coffee he's making a third attempt to drink. Several responses run through his head at the same time, none of them especially coherent.

Wilbur just laughs, and finishes the last of the milkshake.

'Don't look so scared, Johnny. When I'm really askin' I promise I'll do a hell of a lot better than that.'

[theninthdoor]

Can you do bad sides/questionnable reading for enhypen as well ? (Like you did for BTS) Thank youuu :)

again... before you read: make sure that you take everything with a grain of salt and put your common sense to good use! no human being is 100% angel; no one is perfect + some of these things we, ourselves, do or think of doing from time to time. still, if anyone is expecting idols to be some sort of perfect demi-gods, the internet might not be for you 💘 also, of course, i’m not claiming anything as facts. feel free to dismiss my interpretations, if you wish.

Heeseung || the devil, page of wands: Uhh… a little manipulative? He knows what to say to push people's buttons. Plus, might take his jokes a little too far sometimes, too. While said joke might be making someone uncomfortable, if he's not yet satisfied with it, he's not gonna stop. What's funny for him often isn't funny for others, and he might fail to notice that. It could also happen that others feels pressured to laugh at those jokes or go along with his antics just so they aren't the next victim. (mind you, I don't think he's malicious with it, necessarily… he may just lack the maturity or self-awareness to recognize what's reaaally happening)

Jay || the temperance, ace of pentacles: Jay might have a hard time stepping out of his comfort zone, and so he tries to mold people into what better fits said comfort zone. If he thinks something is the best of its kind (i.e.: a restaurant or a style of jeans), he will want everybody to have the same opinion or follow his own. Passive-aggressiveness might also be an issue here.

Jake || three of swords, ace of swords: Knows how to hit a raw nerve, and might do it more often than he should. He's the type to remember things/secrets a person has told him and use that against them later on, specially when they have hurt his feelings. Will bring up people's past mistakes, too, for sure… Plus, once you hurt him, he'll make sure you know it and acknowledge it!

Sunghoon || four of wands, eight of cups: Escapism; faking it. Fakes his personality and/or tastes and preferences in order to fit in. Would rather run than confront others over things that have upset him. Might also be the type to say one thing in front of the larger group of people, and then go and say another in private to someone he trusts.

Sunoo || wheel of fortune, ace of wands: Unpredictable. Always looking for the next big thing. He just isn't very commited to stuff, specially if something else more interesting or promising comes up. It may be hard to get him to follow through with an idea or plan - it's a "do it now or you may never actually do it" type of thing. He just loses interest very easily, it seems.

Jungwon || ace of pentacles, eight of swords: I wouldn't necessarily say close minded, but more like… short-sighted? He rejects things/ideas/people too fast upon a first impression, and doesn't give them the opportunity to unravel into something that, perhaps, he'd find really quite interesting. For example, if 7 years ago he found a 12-in-1 shampoo that worked for his needs, in those 7 years he has never accepted any other shampoo suggestion and will shit-talk all other options… you won't get him to change his mind bc, honestly, he doesn't care. It might be better for him and give him better results but, instead of considering that, he's thinking about NOT getting what this 12-in-1 provides for him right now. Besides that, he may also be a little material focused and reject some opportunities in order to focus on work, to save money, or simply because he thinks it's below himself.

Ni-ki || three of swords, king of wands: Lol… he plays the victim very well! Ni-ki knows how to use his acting skills to get what he wants, for sure… Dramatic. Pushy. Hates it when people don't pay attention to him - OR when they don't give him the amount of attention he thinks he deserves. "My way or the highway… unless you wanna hear me whine about it for a month, of course".

(Disclaimer: all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

[jellykittycatsmeowclarinet]

i didnt smoke weed today for the first time in like… weeks and i had the most vivid dream. I think it meant I am feeling like a bad friend to my old old friends (i lost my sam ring given to me by sam 8 years ago when our friendship low key was first beginning) and that I need to go to gravesend this week and get away.

I was working at this party in the middle of brooklyn but also in reality probably tribecca but it was in this liminal space that was like a really tall hill that resembled hollywood hills grew in the middle of brooklyn that was heavily built up and you needed to take a highway to get out of.

Earlier that day I was asked by Sam and Sophie if I was busy but all I said was that I was and not why. So part of my job was that I had to pick something up… not sure what. So I borrow Mollies car (Mollie seemingly was also working this event which by the way- was packed full of people like a sea if people like rush hour on any train that leads to jay street- in a way i literally haven’t experienced since high school. Like actually my face was in some mans gross chest consistently.) and the car is a dark blue older looking convertible like one that looks like a cute shoe. But it doesnt start easily at all and the ride out of the party is like thanksgiving day parade paced and it seems like I cant tell if thats the packed party’s fault of the cars fault. But whatever because as I am so caught up starting the car I realize there is a girl that got in my passenger seat trying to leave- she had a daughter in her hand and later tells me she was 17 when she had the baby but the baby was only 3 so she is still younger than me. I try to not he rude because shes a young girl with a young daughter and she needs a way out and it seems like something people do considering you can only drive out of the party. So as I am reachinv the exit is where I run into Sam and Sophie. They are sitting at a bar counter with a group of people for a birthday party like waiting to get into the rest of the party and they did not even talk to me or say hi enough to know I was working the event but instead they give me the cold shoulder- which i am sad about but Im also like they didnt even ask me what i was up to or why i was here or act excited to have run into me which at first I was because i was like okay this is serendipitous… but instead they cold shoulder me and I just shrug it off even tho I do get kinda sad. Next though this random girl i didnt realize also hopped in the convertible in the back gets out and links w them. and I drive out of the party and immediately into a tunnel that looks like the battery park city tunnel and through to the brooklyn side where the girl and her daughter low key disappear around the gas station under the BQE.

But, before the girl and her daughter (who she is holding in her arm like a basketball the whole ride out btw) leave I'm like, God that was so weird I just cant go back I’ll have to get Mollie later (since I have her car even) I need to go to graves end instead and then to the beach to look at the water. The girl however does not know where it is and in my abstracted dream map of brooklyn that entire neighborhood and the beach are where like dumbo would be- when I tell her where it is I say like on the west side of brooklyn” …wut? whatever anyways then I start driving there after shes low key disappeared even tho i did expect her to come with me and did not really realize when she got out and I wake up on the couch like damn. :( because my ring is gone and i can feel where it used to be on my finger and I dont even remember falling asleep on the couch and now all the lights around me are off.

[astranite]

Funny story: today I rescued a chicken.

This got kinda long but it is fairly funny and has a happy ending. Also there is Thunder and Birds involved, but not in the usual way. And I have no one to give the blow-by-blow account of the saga to, and I Need to Tell Story. So dear friends, *drags you to sit around my figurative fireplace* enjoy my tale!

(Minor warning of reference to past animal death.)

Because the universe really does have a sense of humour, this all started when I was sitting outside, because it was a nice sunny day, while reading @gaviiadastra's 'Chicken Dad' series. (its great, Im only 5 chapters in, go read it!)

And then I hear loud chicken clucking noises. Which I am understandably very surprised to hear. There is some *looks at laptop* *looks up again* "What the fuck???"

So I go out to investigate. I find a chicken. A very cute, fairly large black hen with the slightest green sheen to her feathers. In all likelihood a Black Australorp.

Outside my yard, just chilling. And still bok-bok-boking loudly.

And I'm like, "huh." And wow, that was not just my imagination.

Now backstory time: My family used to keep chickens, a small flock of them living happily in our yard. I loved them very much, and I kinda still miss them even though it was years ago now. They also had ridiculous triple-barrel names.

Tragic backstory time: One of our chickens got eaten by a fox. (it was extremely upsetting, the chicken was our friend.)

There are also a whole bunch of outdoor cats around the neighbourhood, and a highway nearby, and generally a lot of dangers to escapee chickens. So I'm understandably pretty worried about this chook, because its also lateish afternoon and will get dark. And just leaving it there really doesn't fly with me.

Time for the rescue plan: I'm going to catch that chicken, then figure out where it lives and return it. Because I vaguely remembered some neighbours keeping chickens, and a door knock around should point me in the right direction. (Or if not, I get to keep chickens again, y'know, if it still needs a good home.)

I put shoes on, because stomping around in my slippers is likely ill advised, grab a crust of bread because it the best chicken attracting thing i can quickly find, and yell to a family member where i'm going, getting the underwhelming response of, "Uh huh, sure."

Plan A: Lure chicken close to me with bread and catch it once it is in arms reach.

There is some throwing of pieces of bread, me making inviting clucking noises (actually one of my talents, I have fooled people with it before,) me staying very still, the chicken slowly coming closer.

Eventually the chicken is pecking the bread piece from my hand. I take my moment. My fingertips brush feathers. The chicken runs off. Note to self: chickens are fast and I'm very out of practice at chicken nabbing.

Takes two through like eight or something: Lure chicken in, gain its trust, wait until it gets really close, then catch it.

And nope. The chicken is having None Of That. It still gets a fair bit of bread bits, thrown out around me. And its having a merry old time, wandering around, pecking at grass, and being adorable. (I really like chooks, they're cute.)

By this point my butt's gone numb and my shitty knees are Complaining. And I've been at this more than half an hour, like seriously, this chicken has mastered the art of 'close enough for snacks, but not close enough to get got.'

And I am Very Patient (in some circumstances, such as these, though not all), but I can also hear thunder as a storm is coming in. And this clearly isn't working. And the chicken is wandering away. And I'm at least ten times its size and supposedly the cleverer one here.

So onto Plan B: Get me close to the chicken. Catch the darned chicken.

I get up, shove the bit of bread in my pocket, stretch, then calmly walk after the chicken. Because panicky chicken could definitely out-sprint me. And we're gonna avoid that. I'm also hoping the whole 'persistence predator' thing pays off.

Additional context notes: I live right next to a park. Sort of. There's several metres of rocky cliff between the row of houses and the park. And a narrow strip of land between said cliff and houses. Which is where me and the chicken are, of course.

So there is the additional difficulty of 1) dont chase chicken off cliff (the chicken would be fine, its only couple of metres high and it has unclipped wings. Also would be new problem of chicken running loose in big park.) 2) dont fall off cliff because i dont want to explain it to family/curious strangers/paramedics that this was all because of a chicken.

There is a lot of very careful manoeuvring. Some tactical retreats because that chicken really likes that cliff edge. An amount of bush bashing. Some strategic climbing of slopey parts where it's not so cliff steep. I run into sticks and tree branches and spiderwebs. I Follow That Chicken.

There is a stand off. A rout. I direct the chicken towards the houses and manage to corner it with a fence. And then I've got an armful of somewhat flappy chicken until I get the wings under control. Then I've just got a chicken. A very sweet chicken who is now pretty chill with being held.

Return of the Chicken: It's the first house I go to. I ring the bell, no one answers. I wander round the side a bit thinking maybe I ended up at the back door with all the chicken chasing. A dog spots me in the window and starts barking. So I stand there to wait for that to get someone's attention because I'm 90% sure its the right house.

Person appears in window. Me: *waves* *points at chicken*

Epilogue: It was confirmed that the chicken belonged there. The person was very grateful for the return of their chicken. And wasn't too put out by a rando showing up at the door with a chicken in their arms. Me in my red chequered flannel and possibly covered in leaves. The chicken did not have a name, I asked. I suggested Jailbreak as a suitable one.

I gave the chicken one last pat then handed her over (somewhat reluctantly. She was a very soft, fluffy, lovely chook) (and I named her.) (I really miss having chickens, if you can't tell that already.)

I went home and after a while it stormed, seriously like right on top of us with no break between thunder and lightning. Very glad I got the chicken before that. And got inside. I also won't tell you how long it took to find the bread still in my pocket but I'm very glad it didn't go through the wash. Now I blogged on tumblr about it.

And so the chicken rescue saga comes to an end, with all parties safe and dry and no one even fell off a cliff. Also I got to hold a chicken and that was a major win for my day!

*THE END*

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

i feel so called out by the commuter student who can't drive bc even though i can my anxiety refuses to let me drive on the highways 🙃

Let the all kill begin, just to condense things (and reduce the post spam lmfao I'll put screenshots here AHAHA

Anyway no yeah, Rose, like I be telling everyone if you're not going to live on campus you have to get your license because I mean it when I say you almost can't do shit without it esp cuz clubs meet after classes end. Like, I couldn't actually drive to uni until I was in my junior year and even then since I was new I feared for my life that first year!

Honestly a slight TMI but I remember at the time when my parents told me that I was in middle school. My best friend at the time just came out as bisexual and our parents were close, so her parents would tell mine that they were hoping it was just a phase (it wasn't) and also at that time I think anti-lgbtqia+ tensions were so high where we lived so when my mom told me that, of course, at the time I felt so betrayed by her because she had various family members in the community. But looking back at it in hindsight, I get it. If I was her, I don't know how I'd protect my young child, who was barely entering her teens, from a society that already hated who she was because she was a racial minority.

When I finally came out to my mom like a few months ago she straight up told me she wasn't surprised because of my fashion choices LMFAO Converse, Skinny Jeans, and Flannels (so many of them)

NO BECAUSE LIKE one of the things I was going for was to accentuate OC's relationship with Somi by making her relationship with her parents so tense. Everyone talks about car ride convos, but the tension between OC and her dad in that scene was my attempt at some narrative to kinda sorta ostracize her from her parents. And true to life, I can't tell my dad anything LMFAO

You think you know them and suddenly you find out the Mitochondria isn't just the powerhouse of the freaking cell

Me getting blackout drunk and/or fucking railed at parties while my parents tell everyone how studious I am 🤩

do as i say and not as i do

NO CUZ I WATCHED TOY STORY AND SUDDENLY I COULDN'T GIVE UP ANY OF MY TOYS toy story 3 fucked me up fr fr

ALSO NO DONT APOLOGIZE I LOVE INBOX SPAM speaking of you dropped a few things while i was gone i should go binge those soon 👀

Dude NO studying gets done in those rooms my most vivid memory was me explaining how tf dp works to my friends who both (a) asked and (b) didn't get the concept for some reason-

Then we trauma dump about past relationships it's perfect-

NO REST FOR THE WICKED DFJSHDFJHDF like just call them exams at that point. They're not a midterm if they're multiple of them 😭

I used to say fucking anything to get my motivation up before the exam HAAHAHAHA

It's true, the trauma bonding really helps too

Had to tie it in somehow. Another TMI but I gave mine away recently, I had like this weird manic depressive episode so I buried it in a box we were going to send off to GoodWill. Not to be dramatic, but it hurt looking at it.

You're welcome, love, I sobbed too-

But fr though I meant it when I say I went through a ride writing this fic, and there's just so much more that we did together, me and the girl I based this off of, that I left out that I almost feel like how I wrote her here didn't do her justice. But like, it's fine. (me crying at god awful hours in the morning)

[wuzgoodmf245]

Hi guys i’ve lately been trying to make some sort of zombie comic thingy, and i just wrote a draft for it. If you want to read it here it is 🍩🍩🍩 Its really short so if you read it then please give me criticism and stuff like that.

Until Tomorrow

A car drives by an overpass on the edge of Webster City, Iowa. Going. Full. Speed drive. A hand quickly reaches out the window and throws a cigarette bud on the rough asphalt.

The midwest sun is baking up the highway. But theres something about this frame. The other massive family-sized trucks on the road are standing dead still and collecting dust. Stained blood is giving the wildflowers growing in the middle of the road new kinds of patterns. The unknown car disappears into the horizon.

Sunlight is glistening through the tinted car window on the left side of the car. Maren is looking through some supplies in this trashed converse cross-body bag.

“Do you guys remember that can of tuna that we found stashed in the back of that random gas station on road 124? Like when we were passing through Ravenswood in uhh..” Maren looks over at the map. “West Virginia?”

Rafe takes another huff of his cigarette. “No.”

“Yeah, of course we remember that one extraordinary can of tuna. No Maren? What the fuck?” Lip is sitting in the back being kind of pissy because he didn’t say shotgun.

“Oh my god, fucking chill. I can’t help being the one motherfucker around here who actually remembers shit. Anyways this one lost its label and i don’t know how long stuff like this lasts. Do you guys have any idea?”

“Well if the virus broke out like 3 years ago and they stopped doing food deliveries after it-all-went-to-shit then its probably edible until like… 2 years ago.” Rafe scrunches his nose. “I wouldn’t eat that Maren.”

Maren slowly starts opening up the can anyway, and a BAD SMELL starts filling up the truck.

Lip removes the hair from his eyes and puts a sour patch kid into his mouth. “Maren please throw that shit out before i barf out my fucking insides.”

“Dude please, i’m sooo hungry. I don’t even care if it’s rotten.”

Maren takes a big bite but then projectile spits it back out on the cd player, and now Bob Dylans voice is buried beneath the thick layer of rotten canned tuna.

“Nevermind i guess.” Maren wipes her mouth with a old McDonalds napkin. Lip starts laughing hysterically.

“Can we change this music? My fucking ears are bleeding.”

“Lip its not my fault you only like that gay emo shit. Atleast i’m cultured.” Rafe blows smoke out in car. “We need a new wünderbaum by the way.”

“Rafe. Green day is not emo. And its not gay. And you’re the one who literally SCREAMED out Rob Zombie songs the other day when we went through that smelly rednecks truck and found his Cd’s.”

“Yeah, but Rob Zombie is actually good.” Maren says.