#and you know maybe I’ll try and branch out and meet some friends in the fandom…uhhh i havent sought community in years but we’ll see | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

floralcyanide · 5 months ago

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― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ

After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.

part two

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death

↝ word count: 5.3k

↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.

“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.

“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”

“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?”

“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”

“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”

After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”

“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”

Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”

“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”

“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”

That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.

Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.

“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.

“What’s what?”

“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.

You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.

“Let me see.”

Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.

“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.

“What is it?”

“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”

“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.

Dearest Pen Pal,

Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies.

Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.

“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.

Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.

“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.

“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”

“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”

You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.

When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter.

Dear Javi,

I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.

When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.

Dearest Pen Pal,

I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other.

Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive.

Dear Javi,

I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that!

You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially.

So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add.

You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed.

As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words.

Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.

It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”

You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”

Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly.

“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.

“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”

“Great. How was your day?”

The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.

“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”

You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”

After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is.

“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.

You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.

“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.

“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.

It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.

You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith.

A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.

“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”

Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.

“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.

“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”

“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”

You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement.

“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”

Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.

“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”

“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.

“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.

It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas.

Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow.

A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive.

After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine.

You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.

“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.

You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person.

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you.

“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.

“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”

“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.

You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.

“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”

“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.

“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.

“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”

“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.

“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger.

“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.

“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.

You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain.

“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.

“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”

You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”

Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”

You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment.

“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”

“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”

Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”

You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.

You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.

“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness.

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.

Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.

Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.

“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s cold,” you frown.

“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.

Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’

“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.

You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.

“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.

“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”

“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”

“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.

You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.

You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.

“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”

Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”

“Why did you do it? Just curious.”

“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”

“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”

“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.

“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.

“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”

“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”

“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”

The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night.

“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.

It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you.

“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins.

He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner.

“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.

“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.

“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.

“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.

“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”

“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.

“Depends. What are you doing?”

“Anything with you.”

#javier rivera #javier rivera x reader #javir ivera #javi rivera x reader #javi x reader #javier “javi” rivera #javier “javi” rivera x reader #twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters fic #twisters fanfic #twisters x reader #anthony ramos #anthony ramos x reader #floralcyanide writes

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starskq · 7 months ago

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SEVEN MINUTES / H.J

Pairing ◊ college student!reader x college student!Jinsik (ft. Sumin and Hyunwoo)

Genre ◊ fluff, slightly suggesting

Warnings ◊ making out, hair pulling, neck kisses

Word count ◊ 3k

Summary ◊ Your friend Hyunwoo invited you to a party, and you never expected to found yourself in a closet with your crush.

It was a warm Friday afternoon on the sprawling campus of Haneul University. You were sitting under the old oak tree, your usual spot between classes, flipping through your psychology textbook but barely absorbing any information. Your mind wandered, as it often did, to Jinsik. You had admired him from afar since their first year. He was not just handsome but also effortlessly charming, known for his goofy sense of humor and being one of the most intelligent guys on campus. You had exchanged words a few times, as you had some friends in common, but you always felt your shyness hold you back from engaging him further.

Just then, Hyunwoo plopped down beside you, his backpack thudding to the ground. Hyunwoo was one of your closest friends and, coincidentally, Jinsik’s best friend.

"Hey, y/n, what’s up?" Hyunwoo said, releasing a big sigh when he touched the grass.

You closed your book, a small smile creeping onto your face. "Just trying to study, but it's not going well."

"Well, then, it’s perfect timing! There's a party at Sumin’s place tonight. You should come."

You hesitated, pouting your lips slightly. You weren't much of a party person, preferring quieter settings where you could blend into the background. "I don't know, Woo. I have a lot of work to do, and parties aren’t my thing."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back on his hands, signing innocence as he looked up at the tree’s branches. "Jinsik's going to be there."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Jinsik’s name. You quickly composed yourself, rolling your eyes. "Oh, come on. Just because he’s gonna be there doesn’t mean I have to go. I don’t care,’’ you scoffed, trying to sound convincing.

He smirked, not buying it for a second. "Sure, sure. I believe you," he said sarcastically. "But really, it’ll be fun. And who knows, maybe you’ll get to talk to him more. Plus, you owe me for covering for you in cogn last week."

You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t let it go. "Fine, I’ll go. But only for a little while, and only because you’re so persistent."

Hyunwoo grinned triumphantly. "Awesome! I'll pick you up at eight."

As evening fell, you found yourself in front of the mirror, second-guessing your outfit for the fifth time. You settled on a casual yet flattering ensemble—a pair of high-waisted jeans and a cute crop top. With a final deep breath, you grabbed your phone and headed out to meet Hyunwoo.

As you and Hyunwoo stepped into Sumin’s apartment, you were immediately greeted by a burst of loud music and a drunk college student. The place was alive with laughter, music, and the hum of conversations. The living room was packed, with people mingling around the snack table while others danced.

Hyunwoo led you through the crowd, pausing occasionally to exchange greetings with familiar faces. You soon found Sumin, another close friend of yours, who was chatting animatedly with a group near the kitchen.

"Y/n, Hyunwoo!" Sumin called out, waving you over. "Glad you guys could make it!’’

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease with Sumin's welcoming presence. You did not know that many people, so it was nice to see a familiar face. "Hey, Sumin. You good?’’

Sumin grinned. "Pretty good! Come on, let's get you guys some drinks.’’

As you moved towards the makeshift bar area, Hyunwoo whispered in your ear, "Remember, just relax and have fun. You look great, by the way.’’

You gave him a grateful smile, taking a cup from Sumin. You honestly had no idea what was inside, but oh well. The three of you chatted and laughed, reminiscing about your last study session and the latest gossip.

Just then, Jinsik appeared, his usual aura of confidence and charm making its way through the crowd. He spotted you and Hyunwoo, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, look who it is!" Jinsik called out, striding over to you. "Y/n, you made it! I'm so happy you're here.’’

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you managed a shy smile. "Hi, Jinsik. Yeah, Hyunwoo dragged me here.’’

Jinsik's eyes sparkled with genuine delight. "You look amazing tonight," he said, his tone sincere but hinting at his trademark playfulness. "I was hoping you'd come.’’

Your heart fluttered at his words, but you tried to play it cool. "Thanks. It's nice to see you too. It’s been a while.’’

As the night progressed, you found yourself standing on the balcony with Jinsik, the cool night air a welcome relief from the warmth inside. You really were not a party person, but you had to admit that Jinsik made it pretty fun. Hyunwoo was probably somewhere with some girl by now, and you did not mind spending the rest of your night talking with Jinsik like you had been doing for the past hour or so.

Jinsik let out a big sigh as he leaned against the railing and looked out at the view, enjoying the wind hitting his face lightly. ‘’Sometimes these parties get a bit overwhelming.’’

You nodded, your nerves finally settling as you stood beside him. ‘’Yeah, it’s a bit more peaceful out here. Plus, it’s nice to just talk.’’

He turned to you, a playful grin on his face. ‘’I agree. You’re pretty fun to talk to.’’

You chuckled a bit, smirking. ‘’Why? You doubted it?’’

He shook his head lightly, ‘’No,’’ he chuckled a bit. ‘’But it’s nice.’’

You felt your cheek heating up a bit. You never really had a one-on-one conversation with him, and you had to admit, he was hilarious and charming. And he was so handsome up close. It should be a crime. The worst part was he seemed utterly oblivious of how handsome he was.

You continued talking, sharing stories, and laughing easily. The conversation flowed naturally, and you felt a growing connection with him. The more you talked with him, the more your crush intensified. His goofy charm and genuine interest in your life and opinions made you feel so special, and you wondered if he was that way with everyone.

Just as you were laughing about one of his ridiculous high school stories, Sumin appeared at the balcony door, his signature smile on his face. ‘’Hey, you two. We’re about to start a game of truth or dare in the bedroom. You in ?’’

Jinsik turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow. ‘’We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’’

You hesitated for a moment, but his playful look and Sumin’s pleading eyes convinced you. ‘’I don’t mind. Let’s go.’’

You followed Sumin to the bedroom, which you assumed was his because of the way everything was well organized and clean. You saw a group, in which you recognized Hyunwoo and a girl from your chemistry class, Jiwon, who seemed particularly close to your friend. You smirked. It was so obvious how she was crushing on Hyunwoo anyway.

You quickly found a spot and settled in. Hyunwoo, who seemed to be the unofficial game master, clapped his hands. "Alright, everyone. Let’s get this game started. Y/n, truth or dare?’’

You glanced around the circle, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Um, truth.’’

Hyunwoo grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Alright. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you in school?’’

You laughed, covering your face with your hands. ‘’Oh, my god. Okay, let's see. In high school, I once tripped on stage during a school play. I was supposed to make this grand entrance, but I ended up face-planting in front of the entire school.’’

Everyone burst into laughter, and Jinsik gave you a sympathetic look. "Ouch, that sounds rough.’’

You nodded, still giggling. ‘’Well, it makes a great story now.’’

The game continued, each turn revealing more secrets and laughter. As everyone around you laughed, you finally let loose completely, your initial shyness melting away.

"Alright, Jinsik," Sumin said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truth or dare?"

Jinsik, emboldened by the night's events, chose dare without hesitation. "Dare."

Sumin's grin widened. "I dare you to spend seven minutes in heaven in the closet with y/n."

The room burst into whistles and shouts of encouragement. You felt your heart pound in your chest, a mix of excitement and nerves washing over you. Jinsik looked at you, his expression serious for a moment before breaking into a reassuring smile. ‘’We don’t have to if you don’t want to.’’

‘’It’s fine, a dare’s a dare.’’ You said, getting up, and you both made your way to the closet, the cheers of your friends ringing in your ears.

You stepped into Summit’s closet, which was surpassingly spacious for a closet but definitely not for fitting two people inside. You were a bit cramped. The door closed behind you, plunging you both into darkness.

‘'Well, this is cozy,’’ Jinsik said, his voice warm with laughter.

You laughed, feeling some of your nerves dissipate. "Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be ending my night in a closet."

Jinsik chuckled. "There’s a first time for everything."

You stood in the dark; the only sounds were the muffled laughter and conversation from the party outside. The doors were thick enough to practically cancel all noise from outside. The tension between you was palpable, but Jinsik's humor kept things light.

"So, any fun closet stories?" Jinsik asked, leaning slightly closer.

You laughed softly. "Not really. This is definitely the most exciting one."

Jinsik pretended to look shocked. "No way! This is a first for me, too. Guess we’re both making memories tonight."

You talked and joked, the initial awkwardness fading as you relaxed into each other’s presence. At one point, Jinsik shifted his weight and lost his balance, stumbling slightly. He caught himself by placing his hands on either side of your face, on the wall just behind you, your faces now mere inches apart.

"Oops," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your closeness making you acutely aware of every detail—the way his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his breath, the tension that crackled between you.

"Y/n," Jinsik murmured, his voice husky, "can I kiss you?"

You felt your heart leap in your chest, your lips parting as you whispered, "God, yes, please."

He closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss at first. The moment your lips met, it was as if the world outside ceased to exist. His lips were warm and firm, moving against yours with a tenderness that weakened your knees. You responded eagerly, your hands moving up to his shoulders, gripping slightly at his shirt.

His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more intense. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, seeking permission, which you granted without hesitation. Your tongues meet, the kiss growing more passionate.

Your fingers tangled in his hair. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, matching your own frantic pulse. The kiss turned messy, your mouths moving against each other with fervor. His taste was intoxicating, and you could feel the alcohol on his tongue.

His hands roamed your back, exploring the curves and lines of your body through your clothes. One hand moved to the small of your back, pressing you even closer against him, while the other slid up to tangle in your hair, gently tugging to tilt your head and deepen the kiss further. You felt a rush of heat as his fingers threaded through your hair, a soft moan escaping your lips.

The air around you seemed to grow hotter, thicker, as your kiss turned more fervent. You could feel your own desire mirrored in Jinsik’s touch, in the way his hands gripped you as if he couldn’t get enough. Your own hands moved restlessly over his shoulders, down his back, feeling the play of muscles under his shirt.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps between kisses, each one more intense than the last. The taste, the feel, the very essence of Jinsik consumed you, leaving you dizzy and breathless. His mouth left your only to trail hot kisses along your jawline, down your neck, each touch setting your skin on fire.

His lips met yours again, more insistent, more demanding. The kiss tuned feverish; your movement desperate as you were trapped between his warm body and the wall behind you.

Just as the heat between you reached a fever pitch, the sound of Sumin’s voice cut through the haze. "Thirty seconds left!" he called, his tone teasing but insistent.

Jinsik pulled back slightly, his breathing heavy, his forehead resting against yours. You were both panting, your faces flushed, eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes. His fingers traced the line of your jaw, his touch still electric.

"Guess our time’s almost up," he said, his voice a mix of regret and lingering desire.

‘’Unfortunately,’’ you said, still breathless.

You quickly smoothed the fabric of your clothes, trying to look as put together as possible. You saw Jinsik straightening his shirt. You stepped into the closet when Sumin opened the door, and you were met with a chorus of cheers and playful comments. But in that moment, all you could think about was the taste of his lips, and how much you wanted to taste him again.

The party wound down as the night slipped into the early hours of the morning. You and Jinsik had returned to the group, but there was a new, unspoken connection between you. Each glance you shared was charged with the memory of you intense kiss, and you were finding it difficult to focus on anything else.

Eventually, the gathering began to disperse, and you found yourself standing with Hyunwoo and Sumin near the door, preparing to leave. Jinsik had been chatting with some friends across the room, but his eyes kept drifting back to you. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way over.

“Hey, y/n,” Jinsik said, his voice slightly more hesitant than usual. “Can we talk for a second?”

You looked up, surprised but intrigued. “Sure,” you said, giving Hyunwoo and Sumin a brief smile before following Jinsik to a quieter corner of the room.

Once you were alone, Jinsik ran a hand through his hair, which he did only when he was nervous. “So, tonight was… unexpected,” he began, trying to find the right words. “I mean, it was amazing, but we definitely skipped a few steps by, you know, making out in the closet.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, it was a bit out of order, wasn’t it?”

Jinsik’s eyes met yours, and he smiled, his nerves evident. “I’m really glad it happened, though. But I was thinking… I’d like to do this right. Properly.”

Your heart fluttered, anticipation building. “What do you mean?”

Jinsik took another deep breath, his confidence returning as he looked at you with genuine warmth. “I want to take you out, y/n. On a real date. Dinner, maybe a movie. Whatever you’d like. I just… I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. Properly.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his words. The thought of a date with Jinsik outside the chaotic atmosphere of a party was more appealing than you could express. “That’d be really nice, actually” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face.

Jinsik’s relief was palpable, and he laughed, a sound of pure joy. “Great! To be honest, I was really nervous to ask you.”

You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. “You? Nervous?”

Jinsik chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, believe it or not, you make me a bit nervous. In a good way, though. Tonight just gave me the push I needed to finally do something. I’ve always thought you were beautiful. I just… didn’t know how to approach you. Tonight was a bit of a crash course, but I’m glad it happened.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and your eyes widened. “Wow. And here I thought you didn’t notice me.”

Jinsik’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “How could I not? You’re kind of hard to miss, in the best way.”

You stood there, a comfortable silence settling between you. The party around you continued to wind down, but in that moment, it was just the two of you.

“So, how about tomorrow night?” Jinsik asked, his tone hopeful. “Are you free?”

You nodded, you smile widening. “I am. Tomorrow night sounds perfect.”

“Great. I’ll text you the details.”

As you walked back to join Hyunwoo and Sumin, who had been watching you with barely concealed curiosity, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. The kiss had been incredible, but this—this was the start of something real, something promising.

Hyunwoo grinned as you approached. “So, what’s the verdict?”

Jinsik laughed, looking at you with a smile. “We’ve got a date.”

Sumin clapped his hands together, a wide smile on his face. “About time!”

you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. The night had been unexpected and intense, but it had led to this—a chance to explore something real with Jinsik. As you all left the party and headed home, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something great.

#xikers #kpop imagine #xikers smut #kpop scenarios #xikers fluff #kpop smut #xikers x reader #xikers imagines #xikers scenarios #xikers jinsik #ham jinsik

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peppymintdreams · 2 months ago

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Memories We Can’t Recall

Elias x Barista

Stockton was never exactly a place that screamed "perfect childhood." But for Elias and Barista, the dusty streets, the sound of distant sirens, and the occasional rumble of a motorcycle gang became the backdrop of their shared memories. They met at the age of eight, in a park by the river that nobody really took care of, with its rusted swings and cracked basketball courts.

Elias had been there first, of course—his father owned half the block, or so the rumors went. He was scrawny back then, with messy hair and a bandaged knee from trying to jump off a tree branch the day before.

When Barista, shy and curious, wandered into the park holding a tattered book,

Elias noticed immediately. "Hey!" Elias had called out from his perch on the swings. "What are you doing with that thing?" Barista had looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Reading… What else would I do with it?" "Who reads at a park?" Elias had wrinkled his nose, jumping off the swing and walking over, swinging the lollipop across his mouth. That was a special detail barista could remember about him; Elias always had candy in his mouth or at least on his person.

"You’re supposed to, like, play tag. Or try to climb the trees until you fall. It's more fun." Barista had raised an eyebrow. "Looks like you fell already." They pointed to the bandage on his knee. Elias laughed, loud and bright, as if the whole world was a joke only he understood. "Yeah, well… I’ll try again tomorrow."

It all started at the park, the one by the river, where the swings squeaked, and the basketball courts had more cracks than nets.

Elias was always there first. Sometimes he’d be sitting on the swings, staring off into space, or he'd be messing around with a stick like he was on some secret mission. Barista had wandered in one day, book in hand, just wanting some peace. They weren’t expecting to make a friend—especially not one like Elias.

“Reading again?” Elias had asked, hopping off the swing like he did when they first met, and began to peer over Barista’s shoulder.

“What else would I be doing?” Barista retorted, rolling their eyes.

It became routine—meeting at the park after school, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Elias always had some kind of scrape or bruise, but when Barista asked about it, he’d shrug it off with a laugh. “Just fell off my bike,” he’d say, or, “Tried to climb that stupid tree again.” Barista never really bought his excuses, but Elias had that grin, the kind that said he wasn’t going to explain any further.

They didn’t press him. They were kids, and at the time, being friends with Elias was enough. The world was big, but their park was their own little corner of it. That was how it stayed for a few years.

But as middle school turned into high school, things started to change. Barista found themselves swamped with homework, projects, and the weight of their parents’ expectations. They couldn’t hang out as much, and Elias, while still the same reckless, wild kid, on what one could say was crack, maybe steroids, he was a crazy child who always seemed… different. His injuries became more frequent, more serious, and he started showing up less and less. Barista still saw him around sometimes, but something was always off. His smile didn’t reach his eyes like it used to, and he always seemed to be in a rush, glancing over his shoulder like someone might be watching.

Then the Fresno incident happened.

Barista didn’t understand it at first. They didn’t know the details, only that there had been a blackout, chaos in the streets, and people had died. The news was vague, but there was an undeniable tension that spread throughout Stockton. Barista didn’t hear from Elias after that—not at the park, not anywhere.

He disappeared, just like that. No explanation, no goodbye.

For a while, Barista would still go to the park, just in case. But eventually, they stopped. Elias faded into the background of their mind, becoming one of those childhood memories that you remember in flashes—the boy with the messy hair and bandaged knees, who laughed too loudly and never explained his bruises.

Years passed, and Barista forgot. Not completely, but enough that Elias became little more than a vague, distant figure in their past.

Life moved on. Barista had gone between several jobs, never staying in one, usually because it never felt right until one thing led to another, something really traumatic that caused the barista to switch tactics and they got a job at Brewhouse Café, trying to balance work and their growing responsibilities. It was routine—making coffee, chatting with regulars, living the kind of normal life they’d once talked about back in the park.

Then one day, he walked in.

At first, Barista didn’t recognize him. He looked familiar, but they couldn’t place why. He wasn’t the scrappy kid they used to know; he was taller, broader, and had a quiet confidence about him. He started coming in regularly, ordering the same thing every time. Barista would make his coffee, exchanging pleasantries, but there was always this nagging feeling at the back of their mind.

Do I know him from somewhere? They thought maybe it was just their imagination—maybe he reminded them of someone from a dream, or some random face they’d seen before. It was strange how comfortable he seemed, how familiar, but Barista couldn’t pinpoint why.

The memories of their friendship, of all those afternoons spent at the park, had blurred with time. Faces and moments had faded, until Elias was just a faint recollection, like a photograph left out in the sun for too long.

One day, as Barista handed him his coffee, they paused. “Have we met before?” They questioned themself

Elias froze for a split second, when he saw them for the first time his smile faltered before quickly recovering. “Maybe,” he said, “could it be them?” shrugging casually. “Stockton’s a small place.”

But the feeling didn’t go away. They watched him walk out of the café, the door chiming behind him, and a flood of forgotten memories stirred faintly in the back of their mind.

Maybe they had known each other once. Maybe it was just their imagination. Either way, the boy from the park was long gone—replaced by a man with secrets Barista couldn’t begin to understand. They didn’t dwell on it, not too much.

Life had moved on. And so had they.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #peppymintdreamsproduction #elias zsakuva #zsakuva elias #elias sakuverse #sakuverse elias #elias x reader #light angst

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 2 years ago

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We're Shit Out of Luck, Munson

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Masterlist Part Two

Summary: You're excited to take a trip north to Steve's cabin with all your friends. That is, until you're snowed in alone with Eddie.

Word Count: ~10.5k (I'm sorry)

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Improper knowledge of how a fire stove works. Sort of strangers to lovers? One Bed Trope!!!

A/n: This took way longer than I'd like to admit. I just couldn't get it work, but I hope it's good enough now :) Please let me know your thoughts! Love hearing from you all, and thank you for reading <3

The wheels of Nancy’s car churned up snowy roads under drifting clouds and floating snowflakes from above. In the rumbling backseat of her car sat you in the back, your head leaning toward the window. She drove, her bracelets jingling whenever she turned the wheel, while Jonathan sat in the passenger seat.

Some Fleetwood Mac song played through the old speakers, your head bobbing along as your eyes danced along the white landscape leading your way north – away from Hawkins and away from regular day-to-day life for just a few days. The three of you were planning to meet Steve, Robin, and Eddie there for an extended weekend away at a rarely used cabin Steve’s family owned.

A knit hat hugged against your head, a heavy coat weighing along your body as you thought toward spending time with some you knew well – missing the days of standing doubled over again in laughter together every other day – and others you were excited to get to know better.

Like Robin, who Steve had talked endlessly about how great the two of you would get along – though he seemed to especially say it after you teased or annoyed him. Or maybe like Eddie, your face quirking just a little at the thought.

You didn’t have anything against him, though you had only met him once. But it was just that you weren’t someone who would climb on cafeteria tables like he did back in high school or speak the way he did. You weren’t sure just yet whether his unashamed self put you off or impressed you.

Once your body had begun to ache from sitting for so long, you leaned forward, pushing yourself past the supplies containing clothes, food, movie, board games to rest a hand along Nancy’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re almost there, right?” you asked, peering at the map stretched across Jonathan’s lap.

He cleared his throat, stretching his legs before muttering, “Yeah, we should be there soon. It’s at the end of the road after we turn onto Lake Street.”

“Oh, is there a lake? Maybe we’ll do some ice fishing,” you suggested, humor in your voice as you leaned back into your seat.

Nancy let out a soft laugh, raising her eyebrows in a “maybe” sort of gesture and glancing to Jonathan.

He merely put his hands up. “You two feel free, but I think I’ll stick inside with all of my fingers warm and still connected to my body.”

With a smile, you returned to the view outside, watching it slowly change from straight county roads to winding dirt ones with trees growing thicker on each side. Swaying branches dusted off snow with each passing breeze.

Old brakes squeaked as Nancy pulled the car next to the cabin. Just as you thought about where the others were, Nancy muttered, “They’re probably not getting here until dark, if it’s those three trying to leave on time.”

You put down “chronically late” into your mental descriptions of Eddie and Robin, imagining Steve standing next to the car and waiting for them like the mom he often acted as. Spending time with the kids sometimes required a small escape like this, or at least it certainly seemed from Nancy’s urging to get away from Mike.

She huffed while getting out, but you just took it as a chance to get first pick at the cabin rooms. Grabbing your bag and hauling along food, you walked to the door as Jonathan asked, “Are we sure this is the right place?”

Glancing down, you saw a snowy welcome mat that said, “Live, Laugh, Love” – you turned around and shouted a giggly “Oh yeah.” Though all laughing died down as you tried turning the knob to open it… but nothing. Of course.

“Hey Nancy,” you called back to her at the car’s trunk, “Did Steve happen to give you a key to getting into this thing?”

You pressed your coat closer against your chest, trying to shield yourself from the wind, though the noisy breeze did nothing to hide Nancy’s sigh. “No, he didn’t. He said they’d be here in time, so it’d be okay.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded at the solemn information. Your breaths out made swirling white in the air in front of you as your boots creaked down the wooden steps. You searched around for a window that could be propped open and crawled through, but most seemed too high off the ground. The others refused to budge, even with all three of you trying to pull. Either they were locked or frozen shut out here.

A thud sounded out when your head rested against the cabin, slowly coming to terms with the rocky start to the getaway. Instead, you all were left inside the car, intermittently turning the car on to get enough heat going without wasting all of the gas.

“Go fish,” Jonathan told you for what seemed like the hundredth time, making you mutter under your breath.

Your cursing only increased when Nancy asked you, “Got any eights?” You shoved your eight into her hands, ignoring her smug smile and ready to give up on this game. It’d been a couple rounds of her winning every single one.

All of your heads popped up at the same time as rumbling came from behind, eyes catching a large van pulling up on the other side of the front of the cabin. You breathed a sigh of relief at the unmistakable flowing hair of Steve through the passenger seat window after what felt like an hour. “Thank the lord,” you whispered before the three of you clambered out.

Nancy was the first to speak, her nose red like yours. “Steve, if you don’t open this cabin right now, we’re stealing it from you and locking you out.”

You guessed he would’ve had wide eyes and a surprised response, but he looked tired, nodding with a straight mouth. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, tossing the keys to her.

The wave and smile Steve your way had you returning them as you went to hug him quick. “You’re so lucky that’s all you’re getting from Nancy. Another half an hour, and you’d be getting much worse threats from me,” you laughed.

As you turned to grab your things and finally find a warm blanket or bed or shower – something – he sighed out, “Hey, don’t blame me. Eddie here woke up late and was supposed to be the one picking us up. But I appreciate your kindness.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s good to see you though.”

“Good to see you too,” you said, patting his shoulder. And you meant it. That contagious smile and corny jokes were well-missed by you.

Making your way inside with your things, you wrapped your arms around yourself and grumbled under your breath things about Eddie that certainly didn’t help in his favor toward impressing you.

Stomping off the snow from your boots and slipping them off, you rushed through toward the rooms. You found three, which it didn’t take much mental math to figure out it’d have to be two people per room. Jonathan and Nancy would take one of them, leaving you with Steve, Robin, or Eddie. In the moment, though, you didn’t care too much as you picked a room at random and muttered your way into the bathroom with fresh clothes for a hot shower.

The steaming water dripped along your body, slowly warming your frigid fingers and toes. A long breath emptied from your lungs toward the smooth shower tiles, sending a warm shiver through your body. You weren’t sure how long had passed before you eventually turned the shower off, the leaky shower head dripping water droplets over and over again as you stepped out and dressed.

You exited the bathroom expecting your bags to be right on the bed where you had set them. You had no reason to expect otherwise, until you were met with the chaotic sight in front of you.

Technically, your things were still where you had set them, but they – along with the rest of the bed, most of the floor, the wooden dresser – were covered in clothes, candy wrappers, toiletries, and… were those mini figurines? You only took one step into the room, making the floor creak below you, before a wild wave of hair popped up from the other side of the bed.

Wide eyes stared into yours, big brown ones that nearly made you forget about the mess. That is until Eddie spoke up. “I uh, lost my Walkman. Tryin’ to find it before I go insane listening to their music.” He motioned his head toward the door with an unamused look on his face.

Listening for a beat, you heard music coming from the living room – which seemed to be “Material Girl” playing. Nodding, you looked around while asking, “Are you sleeping here?”

Eddie still rummaged through his bag as he muttered, “By the time I got in this woodsy cabin, everywhere else had been picked, and Robin was already nearly started the place on fire trying to start the wood stove before Nancy stepped in. So I guess?” He turned to you then. “Are we roomies?”

Between his lateness that caused you to sit in the car and freeze your ass off and having to now dig your things out from his mess, you pressed your mouth tight while thinking of your options. “I’ll be right back,” you told him, flashing a flat smile.

You didn’t give him time to answer before you left, seeking out Steve. You found him in the kitchen unpacking some of the refrigerated food. Walking right next to him, giving him a sweet look, you helped him put away some things.

His sigh filled the quiet space between you two. “What is it?”

“Have I ever told you how good your hair looks, Steve?” you asked.

“Of course. Now, what do you want?”

Groaning, you whispered, “I did not sign up for having Eddie Munson as my ‘snowy getaway’ roommate. Please switch with him. Or with me, I’m sure Robin is better.” You looked at her laughing in the living room while watching Nancy try to teach Jonathan to dance, unsuccessfully.

Steve let out a breathy laugh. “If you find uncontrollable snoring and sleep talking better, then maybe. But I already promised Robin I’d room with her. And you have those freezing fingers that I don’t want to wake up with on my back.”

“I promise I won’t do that, even if you are the greatest furnace I’ve ever known,” you begged.

He looked at you, stopping his unpacking and tilted his head. “What’s wrong with Eddie as your roommate? He’s not all that bad.”

You glanced back to your room to make sure he wasn’t listening. “I’m sure he’s not, but he’s been in there for two minutes and already trashed it. And I’m not exactly the type to share a bed with a stranger.”

“Well you could just talk to him. Or get to know him so you’re not strangers,” he offered, glancing toward the room. Your eyes followed, seeing that Eddie was walking out. You had meant what you said, that he wasn’t terrible – maybe you’d even like his sense of humor or laidback personality. But you already liked the rings wrapped around his fingers and the crinkles around his eyes – and all of that mixed with having to lay mere inches from him all night had you hesitating.

You quickly gritted out, “He could just sleep on the couch though” while bringing a smile to your face as Eddie approached.

Steve looked the same, leaning over to whisper, “Or you could.”

You’d seen the couch, a fancy one that looked as if it hadn’t ever been sat on. Your back hurt from just thinking about using it as a bed. There were no other quiet protests you could give before Eddie made it to you two, the chain on his jeans jingling with each step.

“Harrington, you seen a Walkman around here or in the van?”

Steve shook his head, sending his hair swishing along his face. “I’m sure you just missed it when shoving nearly everything you own into a single bag, Munson.”

“Except for extra underwear. I did forget those,” Eddie said with a sad sort of grin, though it turned happy at seeing your twisted face. “Just messing with you, roomie. Though I did forget toothpaste.” He pretended to bat his eyelashes, silently begging for you to share yours and only stopping once you gave in.

His hand patted Steve’s shoulder before walking away to ask the others whether they’d seen his Walkman. With a tight mouth, you just looked at Steve with pleading eyes.

“He can borrow some of mine,” he offered.

You leaned your head against his shoulder in a silent “thank you” before making your way back to the room, planning to unearth your bag to settle in. To your surprise, most of Eddie’s things were cleaned up – or at least shoved to one side of the bed, which you appreciated as you opened up your bag, putting away your things into the drawers.

This was okay. You’d only spend the nights in here, and that was only part of the day. You’d be having fun elsewhere the rest of this time out in the snow or sitting among friends in a nice cabin. This was still going to be a great getaway, no matter what came.

“Oh shit.”

Your head jerked up at the sound, your heart sinking for a moment at hearing Steve say those words. The music quieted down a little, sure someone had turned it down at the outburst. Making your way back, you found everyone else staring at Steve as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Anyone seen the packs of beer?” he asked, his voice low like he already knew the answer.

At everyone shaking their heads, Robin spoke up. “I thought you were bringing them.”

He nodded, putting his other hand on his hip – his classic mom pose. “Yeah, yeah I was. Except they’re back at my house, just sitting on the counter,” he sighed out. “I forgot them when running out of the house when Eddie pulled up.”

Groans echoed out in the space, a quiet “Way to go, Steve” from Robin joining them.

“Well, how about a trip into town? That could be nice,” Nancy offered, clasping her hands together. “Grab some beer, check out the stores too.”

Jonathan peered out the window, pulling open the blinds. “It’s stopped snowing for a bit. Is it supposed to pick back up?”

You shrugged your shoulders like the others, none of you having bothered to check the forecast. “I’m sure it’s fine. Let’s get this road trip going,” Robin said with a toothy grin.

“We already had a road trip,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, a mini road trip then. Maybe there’s a Family Video there, Steve. We could use our double employee discount to get The Apartment for basically free.”

“Robin, you’ve already seen that literally a hundred times,” he responded.

“But not a hundred and one times.”

You smiled at the sigh he gave as opened up his hand to Nancy. “I can drive.”

Nancy nodded, digging out her car keys before throwing them to him. Most of the others started making their way to the door. Though it wasn’t snowing, you weren’t yet ready to weather the cold so soon again.

“I might stick back here, if that’s okay. Stay warm for a little longer,” you told them, giving a small smile.

“Want us to pick you up anything?” Robin asked as she shoved a winter hat on her head.

You waved them off, happy enough to just have the place to yourself for a bit of quiet before everything got going. But your body stilled when Robin turned to look past you, asking, “What about you, Eddie?”

“Besides beer? Nah, I’m good,” his voice sounded. You began to chew on the inside of your cheek, suddenly debating on joining the group after all. Your chances of relaxing went down to zero, instead launching in the other direction of keeping you on edge.

But Steve gave you a pointed look, as if telling you to stay and get along with Eddie. Between his flared nostrils and a breeze pushing through as the front door opened, a fresh wave of frigid air coming through, you just swallowed hard and nodded. You gave them a wave and locked the door after they left, soon watching it pull away.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you slowly turned around, preparing yourself to say something to the near-stranger you shared this cabin (and bed) with. But all you saw was the tail-end of the towel sticking out of Eddie’s back pocket as he walked into the shared room, calling back, “Taking a shower” right before the door shut.

Standing in the middle of the cabin, staring at the space where Eddie had just been, your stomach twisted. This wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. Leaving you with the empty rooms of the rest of the place, you grabbed a snack from the kitchen and the book you’d left on the counter. Taking a blanket thrown over the back of the uncomfortable-looking couch, you sat in a La-Z-Boy next to it, tucking your feet under yourself. You weren’t sure how many pages you made it through before leaning your head back and slowly drifting off into sleep, the crackling of the fire and winds gusting outside weighing on your eyelids.

–

The second Eddie shut that door to shower, his mouth opened in a silent scream as his palms came up to his face. Only once he started the shower did he release a groan, fingers coming up to wind through his hair. He trashed the room of one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen? God, he must’ve looked so dumb and selfish looking for his Walkman.

Where did he put that damn thing anyway?

And he saw the way you talked with Steve right after, probably begging him to switch rooms. A sharp pang ran through his chest thinking of you running to mother hen Steve to tattle on Eddie – all spiraling because he’d forgotten to set his alarm last night. He deserved a little slack, right?

He would’ve tried to make a better introduction if he knew he’d be meeting you. He was sure someone had mentioned it earlier, but after hours of listening to whatever Steve and Robin deemed “music” in his van before being unable to escape it even here, his mind wasn’t altogether there.

He’d stayed back from the beer run to shelter from more musical soundtracks, but he hadn’t expected you to stay too. So here he was, standing in the bathroom, head resting against the tiled wall as he thought of the least annoying way to share this room – or at least not make you hate him during this weekend.

Eddie’s shower burned against his skin, scalding water dripping down him and washing away the bad start. The curls of his hair grew heavier as he washed it. At least this place had hot water.

As he dried off and dressed, his lungs filled deep with breaths and emptied them fully, preparing himself to face you again. Silently opening the door, squeezing his dripping hair with a towel, he padded across the floor back and forth for a while. He wasn’t sure how long he’d spent arguing with himself on how maybe hash this out, occasionally taking breaks to tidy his things further – maybe that’d help? As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, he threw down his towel he’d somehow picked up again to find you and fix this. And find you he did.

His breaths grew much shallower, quieter, at seeing you curled up in that plush chair, blanket and book resting against your body. Though he knew if you woke up to see him staring at you, there was no way you’d stop hating him. But your chest rose and fell in even waves, your eyelids twitching once in a while, your fingers intertwined with one another. And as he was about to turn around and go back into the room to leave you asleep and content – without him – his eyes returned to yours one last time to find them already staring at him.

–

The scream you let out rang through the air, echoed by expletives from Eddie. Hand clutched to your chest, you gritted out, “Why were you staring at me? You scared the shit out of me!”

His teeth clenched together, eyes wide, as he nearly yelled, “You? You scared the shit out of me. Jesus… just came out to check on you, got a fucking heart attack instead.”

Eyebrows screwed downward, you replied, “Is that how you check on people? By staring at them until they wake up?”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, though not quite as menacing as it could have been. “I’ll leave you out here to die next time, sweetheart.”

“Die? From what? The only thing that’s made me fear for my life was finding a mysterious man standing over me,” you scoffed, a hint of an incredulous smile across your face.

That made his face change, a growing smirk replacing his grimace. “Ah, so you think I’m mysterious,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and your eyes flicked down to his forearms more than once. And maybe at the way his damp hair curled against his shoulders.

“Mysterious like a man wearing a trenchcoat at the end of an alleyway, maybe,” you told him with a hint of laughter in your voice, your gaze rising up to see his face screwed tight.

“Yeah, well at least–”

Whatever retort Eddie had fell flat as the phone rang right next to you. Your gaze went between it and Eddie’s for a brief moment before you threw off the blanket and your book just as he scrambled to it as well. But your hand reached it first, your other pushing him away from getting it.

Your fingers grasped the handle, rasping into it, “Hello?”

“He- hello? Can you hear us?” The voice crackled through the receiver, though it sounded familiar. But Eddie by your side whispered, “Who is it?”

“Robin?” you asked, ignoring him.

“Hey!”

“Where are you all? You’ve been gone awhile,” you said, though only guessing from how much darker it seemed outside.

“Oh yeah, about that. We’re in the middle of butt-fuc– Hey!” The sound of rustling and distant voices talking over one another on the other end erupted into your ear before Nancy’s voice came into focus.

“Still there?” she asked, a bit out of breath.

“Still here, Nance,” a smile evident in your voice.

She huffed out a breath before speaking up again. “We’re stuck here in town. Snow blocked my car in while we were shopping – we can’t get it unstuck no matter what we try–” More noise comes from behind before Nancy’s voice comes from farther away as she says, “We are not using Steve for traction.”

You assumed she said that to Robin, and you’d laugh if you weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nancy let out a long sigh. “No one can come get out to us today… or even a few days if the storm stays this bad.”

Your eyebrows lowered into a deep valley. “Storm?” you asked. You craned your neck toward the nearest window, unable to see much outside with the sun far down now. As you did, you caught Eddie’s face in the reflection looking stern, making you turn to him.

He waved a hand at you, mouthing something that you only caught every other word of. You mouthed back “What?” but held up a finger as Nancy began speaking again – leaving Eddie with his arms crossed and jaw tightening.

“Yeah. Ugh, I was stupid not to check beforehand. But we’re not making it back tonight.”

“Not at all?” You knew the question didn’t quite make sense, but your eyes flicked to Eddie for a moment, your heart crawling up your throat. All it did was make him whisper-yell at you to tell him what was happening. “What about all of your things here?” you asked, your voice much quieter. There was no way they’d be able to walk all the way back, especially if this snowstorm was as bad as she was saying.

You could practically hear the frustration laced through Nancy’s words. “After we walk to the one motel this town has, we’re going to buy toiletries and things. We’ll try again tomorrow and call you, but in the meantime, are you two okay by yourselves? I know you and Eddie don’t know each other too well.”

Glancing at Eddie again brought his patience to an end, his legs bringing him to your side and holding the receiver between both of your heads to listen. The proximity of his body so close to you all of a sudden had you stepping back, eyes merely blinking at him as you tried to answer, but the way he looked at you didn’t make words come any easier. Eventually, you let out, “Uh, yeah, we should be okay. We brought enough food to last us.”

His gaze held yours, his eyebrows raising high at your words. He mouthed, “Why?” but Nancy responded first.

“Good, good. Okay,” she breathed out, “Sorry about all this, but we’ll hopefully see you tomorrow then.”

You didn’t think Eddie’s face could’ve twisted further in confusion, but you were mistaken. “Yeah, see you, Nance,” you said, your own voice feeling distant from where your mind was at. The line clicked to an end after saying goodbye, the receiver falling limply with your hand.

Before you could even collect your thoughts, Eddie spat out, “Can you finally tell me what the hell is going on?”

Your head jerked back just an inch before your eyes rolled. This was going to be a longer weekend than you ever thought. Instead of answering him, you walked to the cabin’s front door, pulling it open carefully so the wind didn’t fling it off its hinges. Standing there, gazing out into the world, you felt Eddie’s feet walk across the floor until they stopped next to you.

With the front porch lights illuminating the way, you could see heavy flakes pelting down onto growing piles of snow. It wasn’t nearly as much of a surprise as to how their car had gotten buried so fast after seeing how much snow blanketed the world.

“They’re stuck – staying in town tonight,” you finally muttered. “They’re shit out of luck.”

He rubbed a hand down his face, fingers tangling in his hair as a groan rumbled up his throat. “No, we’re shit out of luck. Jesus.”

Despite the view of endless stars littering the sky, goosebumps started littering your skin. Your hands grasped the door handle and pushed it shut and locked before resting your head against the thick wood.

“Well,” Eddie said from behind, making you turn and watch him shift from one foot to the other, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “At least we don’t have to share a bed anymore.”

You let out a mostly unamused snort, lifting your head to shake it back and forth. “That’s the least of your problems. They had all the beer.”

“Shit…”

–

The two of you had nearly started a fire and a fistfight in the kitchen while trying to make a late-night dinner. This cabin felt ancient, none of the appliances working how either of you thought they would. Eddie tried to come in to help, hoping it’d mend some sort of relationship between the two of you, but he ended up pulling off one of the dials. Instead, while he piled up logs high into the wood stove for the night, not knowing if any of what he was doing was right, you rummaged through food to make a couple sandwiches.

In silence, you two sat at a creaky dining table and ate a meal that wouldn’t fill you up and that would have you searching for snacks in the middle of the night. But he was having dinner with you, trying to not stare at you too much – though, part of him thought “How could he not?” There was a way you spoke, lived, breathed that had him strangely captivated and wanting to know more.

“So…” he started saying in between bites of his surprisingly delicious sandwich, “do you forgive me yet for scaring you?” He tried to sound sincere, but a wry smile rose along his cheeks.

Tilting your head, you told him, “Might be my memory, but I don’t quite remember you apologizing for it, Eddie.”

As his name rolled off your tongue, he couldn’t stop his face from flushing for a second. But his grin came back almost immediately. “Think it’s your memory then.”

“While how about you refresh it for me,” you said, looking at him expectantly. The crackling of the fire filled the air between you, its heat wrapping around his body while you waited.

A few emotions crossed his face, determining the right way to do this, before he finally said, “Sorry about it.” He shrugged. “Not sure you could blame me for staring me for staring at you, though I didn’t realize you were so jumpy.”

Eddie’s throat felt tighter as he swallowed down the risk he took to say that, but he’d say it a million more times if it meant to see the way you paused, your face turning shy as you looked away.

“See…” you said, your voice returning to you as you pointed at him with your sandwich, “I don’t think that’s a very good apology. Not sure why it’d make me forgive you.”

“It came from my heart.” His hand came to rest on his chest, right above his heart with a solid thump. His fingertips felt the way it beat just a bit too fast for his liking. His apology wasn’t good, but it got you to talk to him some more, and that felt like enough.

Flat-toned, you told him, “Sounds like you should go to a cardiologist, cause your heart gives shit apologies.”

Dramatically, he pretended to stab a stake through his chest. “Great, now you’ve wounded me.”

“Clean up dinner and I’ll forgive you, okay?” You stood up with a smile you tried to hold back, only moving to the living room once he wordlessly nodded. “Thanks.”

He felt glad you weren’t watching at how fast he put the few ingredients away and tidied up the table. He glanced at you while you gathered up your things, your face a bit shyer as you approached him.

“Gonna get ready and head to bed. See you in the morning, yeah?” you said, making a pang hit his chest in a way that left him confused and nearly breathless.

“Yeah, sleep well,” he muttered, hands back in his pockets and playing with the coins left in there.

Standing in the cabin alone as your door shut, only accompanied by the hot fire and chilling winds outside, had Eddie walking to bed with too-loud thoughts. Had he won you over? The way his body seemed to care so much about the answer to that question didn’t help his tiredness as he climbed into bed.

–

Despite the constantly creaking house under the harsh force of the storm’s wind, the night passed quietly at first, only accompanied by your occasional tossing and turning. You went to Steve and Robin’s bed that night, leaving Eddie in the one you were supposed to share with him. You thought of your friends and hopefully what plans they had in store for all of you once they made it back tomorrow.

Robin had a million movie recommendations for the group to watch. Nancy brought games for you all to play. Mostly, you just wanted to catch up with everyone that you hadn’t seen in awhile, happy to finally find a time to be together, but look where you were…

Sleep came and went, and came and went again until you woke up a few hours later with a chill climbing up your spine. Your weary blinks barely did anything, the room soaked in dark. Though if you had been able to see, you would’ve expected to see your breath billow out into the air.

How did it get so cold? Squeezing your eyes shut, you willed yourself to curl tighter against yourself and fall back asleep. But it evaded you, slipping away through chilled fingers and goosebump flesh.

No part of your body agreed, but you slid out of the bed with a blanket wrapped around you. Your feet curled against the cold floor as you made your way to the fire stove, doing your best to not run into anything.

In the dark, you could spot the last embers in the fire stove still dying out. Shit, you hadn’t been paying attention to where Steve’s family kept the logs. While searching in the dark for a light switch or the logs, pain erupted through your toe as you stubbed it against something.

A subdued groan stuck in your throat, one hand over your mouth while the other went to your toe as you bent down. Breaths came from your nose in rough bursts, the cold air only making the pain worse.

Feeling around, you vaguely recognized what you ran into as Eddie’s bag he’d brought out at some point last night. You silently cursed him before making your way to his room, exhaustion fueled by the cold weighing on your eyelids and shoulders, slowing you down.

Fingers wrapped tight around the blanket still, you knocked on his door once, twice, three times… you lost count when he didn’t answer. Fed up, you creaked the door open and whispered, “Eddie?”

Only once you repeated his name louder did he stir, his mouth releasing a groan from beneath the sheets.

“Hey, Munson. Where’s the firewood?” you asked, walking closer to him.

His hand came up to rub at his eyes. “Jesus,” he mumbled, “it’s freezing in here.”

He couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. The wood stove burned out, where’s more firewood?”

“I used the last of it when I filled it. Thought it’d last us awhile.”

You didn’t want to absolutely lose it on Eddie, but the heat of your frustration felt welcome in your cold body. “You used the last of the firewood in a winter storm? Are you trying to get us killed?”

He sighed out, “I’m sure there’s more somewhere.”

“Where?”

“How should I know?” he asked, sleep still laced through all of his words. You envied him and wanted to strangle him. “We can look in the morning or call Harrington, okay?”

“And what, do we freeze until then?” you asked, pulling your arms in closer to your body. You weren’t sure you had enough layers to last you that long.

Shifting himself over, Eddie offered, “You could join me to share body heat or whatever, or you could leave. Either way, I’m falling asleep in the next 60 seconds.”

Your face twisted, nails digging into the softness of your blanket. Part of you wondered whether freezing during the night would’ve been better than sharing a bed with Eddie, the first thing you tried to avoid after getting here.

But his hand flopped over near you, and you could feel the warmth of him washing onto your thigh. With a final shiver through your spine that you blamed on the cold and nothing else, you grumbled, “Let me in. And watch your hands.”

He held up his hands as if to show you he wouldn’t dare, not that you really expected him to. Climbing into the bed, your body relished in being near him. Your tired muscles loosened with the heat as you curled against him while he laid on his back.

“Shit!” Eddie nearly yelped as your cold feet accidentally brushed against the skin of his legs.

“Oh suck it up and warm me, Munson.” You pressed closer to him still despite his protests, and despite the nerves firing inside you. Your blanket stayed wrapped around you like a burrito, acting as a barrier between your bodies at least a little bit. Maybe it’d be enough to let you fall asleep without overthinking all of this.

But the blanket constricted your upper half, so as you wiggled against Eddie to get comfortable, you brought your arm across his chest. Hoping that didn’t go too far, you began to ask him, “Is this oka– are you not wearing a shirt?”

Pulling back a bit, you tried to look him in the eye… and maybe lower. But the darkness obscured any glimpse.

“Got warm when going to bed. Shirt’s somewhere on the floor. S’that okay?” For once, his voice sounded void of teasing. Instead, you could tell he angled his head to try and get a look at you as well.

Settling back against him, laying your head against his shoulder and pressing your body to his, you nodded. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Was it okay? Your fingers rested along his ribs and unable to get the feeling of his bare chest out of your body’s memory.

The weight of his hand resting against your back and the slight tickle of his wild hair brushing along your face warmed more than just your skin. All of this breathed intimate, made you close in more than a physical way.

“Good night, Eddie,” you whispered. Your body began to relax as the chill left in favor of the blooming warmth he provided you.

Against your head, he whispered back, “Good night, sweetheart.”

You thought sleep would be impossible while wrapped together with him, and while calling you those pet names, but the comfort of your breath falling in line with his had you tipping toward exhaustion. And though you seemed to be bursting with thoughts and questions, Eddie had vowed to go back to bed soon, so you shut your eyes to let him sleep, falling into unconsciousness within moments.

–

Eddie did not fall asleep soon, not even close to the 60 seconds that he had told you. Not with you snuggled this close to him, your soft breath sliding against his skin with each exhale. He was sure you’d fallen asleep then, little noises sounding from the back of your throat kept his mind racing and his body all too aware of yours.

When your thumb had rubbed back and forth along his skin, his brain went blank then burst back online when his stomach tingled. Did he really have god damn butterflies from that? At least it seemed he’d won you back over from pure annoyance to mild tolerance.

He hadn’t told you, but he’d been cold too. Eddie absolutely wouldn’t have told you about the way his heart lept into his mouth when asking you to stay in the bed together. Or how wide his smile had gotten when you actually said yes. Each time you twitched, he feared you had gotten cold again or had some bad dream. But there you stayed, in his arms.

No part of him could tell what time it was by the time his tingling nerves finally settled and warmed. Dipping toward unconsciousness, he knew he’d sleep better than he had in a long time. And he did, with you pulled tight against him and refusing to let go.

–

The sun peeked its body up above the horizon. Light streaming in painted the frosting swirls adorning the window in a rainbow of shades. The absolute silence out here in the winter felt welcome against your ears. Through everything this trip had brought, at least you had time to sleep in.

And Eddie took full advantage of that. As your eyes blinked open, you found him out cold – but he certainly didn’t feel cold. The first thing touching your awareness was the feeling of Eddie pressed against your back, the rising of his chest and pounding of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped across your ribs and came to rest his hand on top of yours.

Silently, a soft smile rose on your face as his nose nuzzled against the back of your neck. Who knew he loved to cuddle so much? As each quiet minute passed, you seemed to care less and less about the minor ways he had annoyed you through this trip so far. Well, not completely – but at least this was nicer than bickering with him or being stuck outside.

Despite the chill still in the air, your body ached to stand and stretch. As you slipped from Eddie’s grasp, you glanced back at him. In the morning light drifting past the curtains, you could get a better look at him. But only a short one, not wanting a repeat of what he’d done to you yesterday. Facing you, your gaze took longer than you’d like to escape from staring at his arms and chest or how his hair cascaded across his face and onto the skin of his shoulders.

He had nice shoulders.

Shaking your head, you opened the door to let him continue resting, which apparently he really needed. While he slept in through most of the morning, you’d managed to make breakfast, get washed up and ready for the day (and covered in many, many layers) and actually read this time – with the record player on its lowest volume. Through the busyness of work and college, you found it hard to capture (let alone appreciate) moments like these anymore.

You’d checked outside again and again to see whether the snow had miraculously melted since you last looked. But each time you pulled back the curtains, the blanket across the land still sat there – though snow continued to fall, it drifted slower now. Its quiet and undisturbed body looked peaceful, comforting in a way despite everything.

Though not unwelcome, the soft air broke once the phone rang. With quick footsteps, you went to it and picked up, rushing out, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Nancy again,” the voice on the other side breathed through the receiver.

Maybe you should’ve asked how she was or how she slept, you skipped past any pleasantries. “Any good news?” you asked.

The sigh Nance let out told you the answer before her words did. “Wish I had some. Everywhere within a hundred miles is facing exactly what we are. No one’s getting anywhere for a bit, barely even plows.”

You swallowed down a deep groan, your fingers tightening around the phone. “There’s no way you’re getting here today?”

“Maybe, if we’re lucky. I’m sorry.” And she did sound sorry, but she was the one stuck in a motel room in a tiny town buried in snow.

“Don’t worry… I’m sorry you’re roomin’ it in that motel for the time being. And with those two children,” you laughed out, breathing easier when hearing Nancy’s laugh too. You vaguely heard her say something else, but you turned to look at Eddie’s room to see the door open.

Your eyes roamed across his sleepy state as he walked toward you, the back of his hand coming up to rub against his eye as he yawned. His hair laid at odd angles, the curls raining down on a faded Judas Priest shirt he now wore, which hung down onto a pair of black sweatpants. You couldn’t quite look away, a warmth in your chest at seeing him in such a state. Only hearing your name through the phone brings you back.

“Sorry Nance, what was that?” you ask, shaking your head and keeping your gaze elsewhere.

“Just wishing you luck on your extended vacation with Eddie,” she said, a slight humor in her voice, almost as if she knew what just went through your head.

You nodded even though she couldn’t see – maybe she could apparently, or you were just that obvious – but you followed up with, “Yeah, good luck too. Keep us updated?”

“Of course,” she said, and your mouth pressed tight. Perhaps from missing out on this time with her or perhaps from the impending conversation with Eddie in a second.

“Oh wait!” you said louder, “Please ask Steve where the extra firewood is. We’ve burnt through it.”

Nancy mused out loud, “We should’ve had one of you there when he explained all this. One second, I’ll ask.” You imagined her whispering to Steve while Robin was still asleep.

While sounds of shifting and moving went through the background, you watched as Eddie grabbed the blanket you’d been using on the couch and wrapped himself in a burrito. You turned away to hide your smile, thankful Nancy came back.

“Hey, he says it’s out back in a log rack. And that you only need to put some in the stove at a time, not too many or it’ll burn out faster,” she explained to you.

You thanked her, and the click of putting the receiver back echoed through the room. A silence settled before Eddie finally asked, “They on their way back yet?”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, you angled toward him as you answered, “Uh, no. Quite the opposite, actually. There’s a small chance they get back today.” Gesturing to the window with the head, you followed with, “Snow’s probably not stopping soon.”

You allowed yourself to glance back at him while he looked past the curtains, knocking his head against the glass with a groan. “This storm has a vengeance against my quest for beer.”

Letting a laugh out through your nose caused him to stare at you, eyebrows furrowing in a way to ask you what was so funny. Shrugging, you told him, “You certainly have a flair for dramatics.”

He crossed his arms as he stood tall. “Maybe you’re not being dramatic enough. We’re stuck here for a whole weekend.”

With wide eyes, you asked, “Oh, having to stay here with me calls for melodrama and agony?” Eddie’s face looked hesitant, even speechless for a second, until you were unable to hold back your smile anymore.

His eyes roll back, his usual demeanor coming back quickly. “You’re the one that didn’t want to share a bed with me, sweetheart.”

Your fingers came to pick at the hem of your shirt, eyes drifting downward. Your grin fell, throat tight as you struggled to explain yourself. “I, uh…”

His shrug followed with, “S’alright. We made up for it last night.” He let out a small laugh, one that didn’t quite ease your embarrassment. “Where’s this firewood though? Freezing my tits off here.”

That did get a giggle from you and let your shoulders ease a little. If Steve were here, he’d give you an “I told you so” about communication or whatever, but you were just glad Eddie wasn’t too upset.

Still, you couldn’t stop your sigh as you told him, “Firewood’s out back in some log rack apparently.”

Raising his eyebrows and pulling his blanket tighter, all he offered was, “Well, good luck. Have fun with that. I’ll be here to warm you up again when you get back.”

“Ahh… no. You’re the reason it burned out in the middle of the night. So if anyone is going out by themselves, it’s you, Munson.” You crossed your arms, letting the silence grow louder as you two stared each other down.

“Fine! We’ll both go,” Eddie gritted out, shuffling back to his room. You slipped on boots, a hat (or two), gloves, and your coat. You were plenty tired of the all too familiar chill aching through your body.

But as Eddie came back out, you barely contained an explosive laugh at seeing him covered up. A ratty sweatshirt bulged against him, clear that he wore many layers beneath it. And he at least had on two pairs of pants.

“Not one word,” he muttered, about to grab his shoes when you convinced him to wear Steve’s boots he’d left here. You also spent too long forcing him to put on a hat – it would “ruin this perfect hairdo” he told you, but you won out.

You were sure the two of you resembled young children bundled up and unable to move well by the time you opened up the front door. The porch allowed you to open it at all, unlike the back door that had a growing wall of snow barricading it.

Both of your boots crunched as you walked around the cabin. Despite trying to shield your face from the wind that seemed to come from every direction, the view you had certainly didn’t get old. Thick trees weighed down with fresh snow all spanning for miles, looking like a scene out of an old Christmas movie.

Nearing the other side, you spotted a rack with a tarp over it, sure to be piled high with logs. Your freezing fingers clenched at the promise of warmth soon. Just as you were about to look for the logs, you felt a thud against your back along with muffled laughter. Eyes narrowed and jaw tight, you turned around to see Eddie very obviously looking away from you, pretending nothing happened – like he didn’t just pelt you with a snowball.

But in his act, he didn’t see you bend down to form your own snowball between your gloved hands. Packing it tight, you pulled back your arm and let it fly, hitting him square in the chest as he turned toward you at the last second.

There was no stopping the shit-eating grin on your face at his mouth dropping open or the way his gaze steeled. The look pierced past all the ridiculous layers, making you feel a little less cold out there. The way his head tilted to the side, awaiting him to make some cocky comment that’d have you internally stuttering – it kept you still, even as he bent down.

“Oh, you are so fucked,” he told you, packing another snowball.

He had no idea how right he was.

The second he stood back up with his ammo, your legs took off in the other direction, feet slipping through the snow as you ran from him. Though the icy air sharpened against your face, your grin stayed, now accompanied by uncontrollable laughter as Eddie chased you.

Rounding the next side of the house, you slipped around the corner to press against the wall, hiding from his view. His own laughter grew louder as he followed, making your teeth sink into your lip to stop from letting out any noise.

As he ran full speed around the corner, which wasn’t that fast in knee deep snow that wormed its way into your boots, you jumped out at him. Your hands landed on his shoulders with a slap, forcing a scream from his throat and his hand to release the snowball.

But he flew back in surprise, his legs tangling with yours and bringing you both down into the sea of snow. White powder billowed up and around your bodies, some of it wiggling into your exposed neck and wrists.

And yet, you weren’t complaining as you landed with your body pressed against Eddie’s, half of your chest on top of his – your faces only a breath apart.

Perhaps you should’ve scrambled back, apologized, or even laughed at him for screaming, but you admired the snowflakes littering his dark hair like constellations against a night sky. Then you glanced to the soft red covering his cheeks and nose, sure that it came from the cold but hoped it grew from something more.

Eddie’s breathing rose and fell beneath you, pressing close and then all too far a second later. You thought you might’ve caught his doe eyes glancing toward your mouth, yours doing just the same, but as he shifted closer, more snow dipped on the back of his neck and down his coat.

“Shit!” he yelled, flying up to try and shake it out, breaking whatever had held you two together for that all too brief moment.

You sat there with a smile, watching him scramble to rid himself of the quickly melting snow. Letting out a long sigh, you stood up and waited until he calmed before nodding your head back toward the logs.

Moment broken indeed as you began to sweat trying to grab as many logs in your arms as possible – no part of you wanting to trudge back out here. Between the two of you, there stood (balanced precariously, really) a sizable amount of logs to fuel the wood stove for a while.

Your body felt a little lighter as the layers of clothes dropped to the floor, your cold cheeks beginning to warm up back inside and out of the wind. This time, you loaded the logs and set the stove ablaze, declaring the spot directly in front as yours for the next half hour.

Eddie, of course, had none of that. He plopped himself next to you, pressed against your side – claiming “it had the most heat, stop hogging it.”

You didn’t stop, not when the still-warming skin of your arm goosebumped as it touched his. The veins running along his forearm occupied most of your thoughts while you two sat there in silence, only interrupted by occasional complaining of a different body part being cold and cursing of this storm.

“You warmed up?” Eddie asked, turning his head to look at you.

If you turned to him, you’d get caught up in the deep brown of his eyes or how soft his lips looked, so continued staring at the flames in front of you. You’d been plenty warm for some time now, but if you told him that, then you’d have to leave his side.

But before you could speak, he brought a hand up to scratch at his neck as he continued, “Cause I was thinking we could watch one of those movies Robin brought.”

Oh, that you could do. “Yeah. You can pick, I’ll go search for that popcorn Nancy put somewhere,” you said, getting up and finding it before he noticed how scattered your brain was becoming.

The TV came to life as kernels popped in the pan you shook on the stove. As you watched each one burst, the nerves of being with Eddie settled back in your body, sleeping against your spine. This weekend hadn’t gone as any of you expected, especially not with seeing this near stranger as cute, charming even – not that you’d tell him that.

And rather than watch The Apartment as planned, you realized you didn’t want Eddie to be a stranger anymore. So you pestered him with questions, not that he seemed bothered. You loved hearing about Uncle Wayne and the auto shop Eddie worked at, or his D&D campaign he was planning at the moment. Not with that smile when you told him about your family, friends, and how work was going. He even vowed to fight your annoying coworker if he ever saw him in public – like you had promised to check out Corroded Coffin when you made it back.

“Like, I know we fight literal demons in our game, but are you sure Tanner isn’t one of them? I mean, who falls asleep in the only bathroom? And locks it!” Eddie said, shaking his head as he filled his mouth with more popcorn.

“Right?” you said in between salty bites, “But as long he doesn’t show up at The Hideout, I’m coming for your show next month.”

And you’d give him a million more promises if it meant making that look spread across his face again – excited grin, cheeks squishing up to make his shining eyes shut. Wow. Maybe you’d put too many logs in, the air feeling much warmer now.

But it was easy, so surprisingly simple to spend the day with Eddie. He played you some of his favorite songs while you both laid on the ground, heads next to each other but feet pointing opposite directions. Every time he bopped his head to the beats, his hair brushed against you. The way his hands shot up to play an imaginary guitar and softly mouth the lyrics had you holding back giggles.

This time, he tried making you dinner. And he did make a surprisingly good plate of pasta – without burning the whole place down. While eating, he nodded along to what you said as if every word quenched some sort of thirst he had for listening to you, for learning everything there was about you. He had this air about him of confidence, but past that, in those soft moments, you saw him settle into a quieter form of himself – one that calmed you too.

And reaching the end of the night, you awaited his question. Whether you’d be staying in his bed again. The fire was fixed; it’d stay lit throughout the night. But the two of you threw on another movie, maybe just so you didn’t have to confront that just yet in case you would separate ways. Your eyelids drooped and you yawned so hard it shook through your body. And that tiredness made your decision just a little easier.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered, resting his hand on your arm and shaking it gently. “Let’s get to bed, alright?”

Your head had drifted down until it rested against his shoulder, so it ruffled his shirt as you gave him a few sleepy nods. Shutting the TV off, he grabbed your hand and led you toward the bedrooms. As he slowed at the split between the two doorways, you kept shuffling your feet, pulling him into his room. Not bothering with getting ready, afraid it would break the unspoken moment between you two, you climbed into the bed and took the leap, holding out your arm as he had the night before.

–

God, he took the space next to you so quick. But he kept his movements gentle, not wanting to rock you out of your sleepy state in case it woke you from this dream you’d created. Eddie settled in, wrapping himself around you and under the covers. Jesus, he spent all night working up a way to ask you for this.

A deep sigh loosened from his lungs that you had done it instead. Maybe it’d been the way your eyes lit up whenever he made you laugh before they shut as you turned breathless, clutching your stomach. Or how excited you got talking about your favorite show at the time, your hands flying through the air.

It’s not that you were intimidating, but you sure made him feel intimidated – nervous that he’d say the wrong thing and make that beautiful smile drop. But it didn’t. He could still see it in the faint light coming from the hallway, and it only grew as he pressed his body against yours.

Eddie really wanted to stay awake, on purpose this time. To enjoy this time as he stroked a thumb along the soft skin of your hip peeking out from under your shirt. But your heartbeat pumped against him, your breath made his fall in line to yours like a steady conductor – leading him right into sleep along with you. And he followed you without question.

–

It was in the late morning that you it happened, it finally came together. Half-awake, you laid your arm on the one wrapped along your stomach. It pulled against you, bringing you closer to the chest behind you. You weren’t yet aware enough to recognize that you weren’t dreaming, that it was Eddie also on the cusp of sleep holding you.

Not until did his lips connect to the point where your neck slopes into your shoulder did your eyes shoot open, any bit of tiredness inside you disappearing in a moment. Your head turned back to look at him, seeing his own eyes shut before also blinking open at your sudden movement.

He glanced between where he’d just kissed and your face, a blush rising to his cheeks as his mouth opened and closed wordlessly. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, um…” he stammered out before pulling his arm and scooting back until no part of him touched you anymore.

You’d done it – you’d broken the tension in the ugliest way, and you felt cold without him there. Turning to fully face him, you rambled to try to fix this in some way. “No, no, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry, really I should be the one sorry for taking your bed and forcing you to sleep next to me–”

“You didn’t force me–”

“But it’s really okay because it was cold that first night and so it made sense. And we both weren’t really awake just now, and–” You’d gotten up now to pace, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. You didn’t want that extra space between you, but he’d done it first and maybe that’s what he actually wanted.

–

Shit. Shit. Shit. How could he kiss you in his sleep? What a god damn idiot. Though he understood why he did it, watching you pace and float through the room like some angel he felt undeserved to kiss.

–

As you glanced at him for just a second, you saw the way his fists squeezed the blanket between his fingers. Oh, how could you have been so stupid to misinterpret things, and now you’ve made him uncomfortable.

Taking a long breath, you finished with, “I’m sorry, Eddie.” Your hand clasped onto your other one as you shifted from foot to foot.

With a hand rubbing down his face, he shook his head. “I’m the one that kissed you, and you’re apologizing,” he laughed out. “I didn’t mean to do that, especially without asking or something first, Jesus.”

You barely heard his next words that he spoke to himself, but your ears held on to every word. “Maybe my subconscious had gotten into my thoughts…”

Your teeth dug into the inside of your cheek as you contemplated your next sentence, the rabid butterflies ravaging your stomach. Pursing your lips, you quietly asked, “So… you would have wanted to do that if we were both awake?”

And his face shot up, those eyes the color of melting chocolate meeting yours. He climbed from his side of the bed, shuffling toward you – one of his steps for every three of your racing heartbeats. “Yeah, of course. But I didn’t even ask if you wanted that…” he said, leaving his unspoken question hang in the air.

Fighting the smile trying to rise up, you said, “So, you should probably ask then, Munson.” And the kind light shining from his eyes turned brighter into a tall flame threatening to burn you both. There it was, that cocky way he had.

His hand reached to grab yours, giving it a squeeze before he finally said it. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, gaze unsure of where to stay, definitely your mouth it seemed.

You tried to come up with a million different ways to say yes, to tell him that you couldn’t stand another second without him being pressed against you again. As your mouth opened, a creaking noise came from the front of the cabin, followed by voices.

“We’re alive!” Steve shouted as the group walked through the door and stomped off snow from their shoes. Other words shot through the air, destroying the haven the two of you had made. Dropping your forehead against Eddie’s, you sighed out a breathless “Yes” that fell flat against his cheek.

–

Fuckin’ Harrington.

A/n: Thank you so much for reading. Reblogging and commenting make my day (and make me love you), so I’d love to hear what you thought! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things

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averagecontentenjoyer121 · 3 months ago

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Probably gonna be the last chapter for a bit, maybe not. Got life stuff and it depends how long future chapters will be.

Anyways speaking length this one is a long one and Athena finally gets to see what good parenting is :D

Chapter 8: Wounds

Athena shot awake gasping for air believing she was still in the clouds, only to feel the softness of a bed underneath her weight. A horrific pain pushed her down as it crawled from her left leg to her same side eye, causing her to yell in agony. She fell out of the bed onto her back as her legs still lay on the bed.

“Arvo, sleepy ‘ead,” chuckled out the drowsy voice leaning above her, “Now that you’ve finally woken that galah ankle biter can now leave me be. Every hour in and out, ‘Is she awake yet. What about now, is she awake now,’ I get he’s concerned but the bloke didn’t have to be so earbashing.”

“Hypnos? Why are you he-,” she was cut off by the pain that once again radiated half her body as she tried to get up again, only to shout from the debilitating pain. “When ya gonna learn not to put pressure on the parts with scars.”

“You still haven’t answered why you’re here.”

“Ah right. So, my brother saw you get trampled by the thunder bloke, and pleaded that I come to help ya, as you’d probably be in a lot of pain and need the help of the god of sleep to obtain it.”

“How’d I get in here? The last thing I remember is pleading with my father.”

“Ya see, after your blackout your old man literally kicked you out of the clouds. Then you fell into the sea and washed ashore. Your ankle biter friend saw you on the beach and dragged you to their big smoke. There his ma readied a bed for ya and pulled you onto it. Then I came down to make sure the pain didn’t stir you. Oh and that larrikin postie came by as well, don't know why.”

Suddenly the door to the room swung open as Penelope rushed in, having been concerned by the screams. Seeing that Athena had fallen out of the bed, and was staring through Hypnos’ soul, upset he hadn’t tried to help her up. She rushed over and picked up Athena sitting her back up on the bed trying her best not to brush her scars. She then turned around and began scoulding Hypnos as if he were her child. “Why didn’t you help her up!”

“Calm down, she's strong, also it’s been awhile since I got to talk to her. In fact I don’t think I’ve gotten to speak to her before, cause ya know. Gods don’t need sleep, and even then when I visited her after her exile I never got to speak with her.”

“You could’ve helped her up then spoken with her, would’ve saved her more pain!”

“True, although no need to knock me like that. It’s easy to say that in hindsight”

“Yes, but you should think more like its brother.”

“Aight, well anyways guess I’d be off.”

“If you don’t intend to help our guest then I won’t stop you,” Penelope frowned as Hypnos jumped out the room’s window and flew away.

“Are you alright dear? I was going to get some bandages to wrap your scars, but heard you scream,” she said whilst holding the bandages she mentioned.

“Yes, I’m alright, however the scar does hurt greatly whenever I put pressure on it.”

“Can you see through your left eye, I can’t see your eye.”

“I think I can. Wait, what do you mean?”

“Where your left eye should be, it's just glowing. Like your scars.” Athena looked down at the portion of the scar she could see branching out from under her clothes now noticing its glow.

“My son dragged you to our gate and came to get me so I could help him. He called you his friend. How’d you meet?”

“I was passing by when I saw one of the men here pick a fight with him. I jumped in and protected him,” Athena said while Penelope began wrapping bandages around her visible scar branches.

“Which one of them was it,” Penelope said, shooting a deathly glare at Athena.

“It’s ok, I chased him out of town. He won’t come back again.”

“Was he the one that did this to you, if so I’ll hunt him down.”

“No, I ah. . . Got. . . Struck by lightning on the way back, and I guess that is why this is,” she says, stuttering, gesturing to her scar.

“Alright,” Penelope struggles to say. She then finishes the bandages.

Athena tries to stand up again struggling under the slightly lessened pain. “Are you sure you’re alright dear.”

“Yes, it still hurts, but now that the air isn’t constantly stabbing it, it’s better,” she says, trying to take her mind away from the pain. Penelope worryingly stares at her. “Athena!” Cheerfully shouts a prepubescent voice from a wide smile, “You're awake!”

“Quiet down a bit Telemachus, she still needs time to recover.” Telemachus stops right before reaching out for Athena’s hand. “It's quite alright, Penelope. Half of my body does hurt, but that doesn’t include my ears,”

“Yes, and don’t touch her bandages, it'll hurt her if you do,” Penelope says, staring at Telemachus. “Yes mom,” Telemachus says, sinking down disappointed in himself because he upset his mother.

“It’s alright, Hypnos told me that he’d been worrying about me the entire time since I’ve been here.”

“That’s right! Are you,” Telemachus quickly says, still worrying. “Yes, little man, I’m alright.”

“Yes!” Telemachus jumps up swinging his arms in triumph with stars in his eyes.

“Oh, what’s your name again dear?”

“Uh, it’s Pa-“

“Athena!” Cheers Telemachus with a cleaver sized grin on his face. “I’m sorry dear, clearly he thinks you're a god. Probably because you saved him.”

Athena sighs, “No, he’s right, I am. It’s a long story. Do you care to listen? I can tell you about what happened with Odysseus, I traveled with him.”

Penelope stares at Athena, baffled at what was said. “Oh and I guess I’ll have to actually explain how I got these scars,” Athena warmly smiles. “Uh. . . S- sure,” Penelope stutters out, stumbling on her words this time. Penelope sat on the bed beside Athena and Telemachus eagerly sat on the ground with a smile on his face, to hear her story.

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kittkatattacks · 5 months ago

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Wip Wednesday 7/31/24

These are hella late but here are my sentences for 7/31 :)

Perfect season 20-22 for:

@happinessisntfun @owlbearwrites @1attheedge @eriquin

“I need you to get some information to the little lord.”

“Ah, I see. And what exactly would I be telling him?”

“Riko is getting out of control. He sent some of the freshman Ravens over to Palmetto to kill one of our players.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes. the player who was attacked saw who it was and I’m sure there’s a paper trail that leads back to the side branch if not to Riko himself.”

“Alright, I’ll check it out and relay your message. Is there anything else?”

“Thank you, and no, there’s nothing else right now.”

“Very well then, I’ll let you go.”

“Bye,” Neil says, and hangs up the phone, handing it back to Andrew.

He pockets the phone, leans back on his elbows and stares out at the parking lot. Neil doesn’t feel like going back inside so he sits with Andrew and stares at him, admiring how the sun lights up his hair and makes his eyes glow gold.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

AFTG space au for:

@enigma-the-mysterious @scifikimmi @auburnlaughter @adhdavinci

Neil finishes signing his email, heart pounding in his ears and sends it off before he can think about it too much. He quickly closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head and then takes a few calming breaths.

In, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Out, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

In, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Out, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

He does this until he feels his heart slow and gets up to get ready for the day.

Neil barely makes it through his first class; the professor monotonically goes over the syllabus and then keeps them there for another half hour talking about himself and how he ended up in ‘such a fine establishment’. He resorts to alternating between drawing on the handout given to them at the start of class and stabbing himself in the thigh with a pen.

He meets up with Jean for a late lunch and they both talk about how their classes are going so far.

“I’m just saying, that class is shit. I don’t understand why we need to take it.” Neil says, referring to his undergraduate studies class.

“We have to take it because someone,” Jean replies, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork, and then pointing it at Neil, “wanted to explore Europe instead of going to college when we graduated.”

“Whatever,” Neil says, swatting the broccoli away. “It's not like I made you come with me.”

“True, but irrelevant. Besides, if you had gone on your own, who would have been there to take care of you after all of the times you got into fights and needed patching up.”

“I could have done it myself or gone to a clinic,” Neil says, already knowing he’s going to lose this argument.

“Bullshit. I’ve never met someone who hates hospitals more than you do. Also I’ve seen you try to patch yourself up, you’re pretty shit at it.”

“Alright, Alright,” Neil says, putting his hands up in surrender, “you win.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

YLPWBOYF for:

@somefishycat @wizisbored

Lola wastes no time getting into his space, knife in hand, crowding him even more into the car door.

“So, Junior,” Lola says, like she’s gossiping with a friend, “I’ve just got to know, where’d Mary run off to?” She presses the tip of the knife into his cheek when he doesn’t immediately answer, just enough to draw a drop of blood.

Nathaniel doesn’t flinch despite the pain he feels and replies, “Like I’d ever tell you that.”

“Maybe,” Lola says, “but I have a feeling you’ll tell me sooner or later.”

Nathaniel wants to question how she plans to do that, but keeps his smart mouth shut, his mind already coming up with multiple ways that she could.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

DMRA for:

@zyrafowe-sny @whimsicalmeerkat @aparticularbandit @post-and-out

Aaron can tell he’s struck a nerve, the bulging veins on either side of Hill’s forehead giving away just how much he has.

Halsey steps between them, redirecting Hill’s attention to him and Aaron takes the chance to give Kevin a once over.

Aaron hadn’t thought much of him when he first walked in, having been more focused on Hill. However, now that he’s really looking, he notices how muscular Kevin’s arms are, his jade-green eyes and how he towers over most of the people in the room, including himself.

Aaron turns his attention back to Hill and Halsey, “I look forward to seeing you in class,” Hill says, but Aaron can tell he is still pissed from earlier despite the smile he wears.

He glares at Hill until he’s gone and turns his attention back to Halsey who checks his watch, “I’ve got to go, there’s a call I need to make. Kevin, could you please show Mr.Minyard the Emergency room.”

“Of course, I was on my way over there anyway,” Kevin says.

Aaron gives Kevin his full attention now that Halsey is gone, “You sure know what to say to impress important people huh?”

“I assume you mean Hill.”

Yeah, he’s a pain in the ass but he’s got a lot of influence here. Let me guess, you’re taking Dr.Hill’s class?”

“Yep.”

“Well, if I were you, I’d tone down the animosity. Getting an F in his class is like a bad review from the New York Times; it’ll ruin your career before it even begins.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

#aftg #aftg fanfic #aftg andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #ao3 fanfic #wip wednesday #all for the game #aaron minyard #kevin day

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thesassypadawan · 1 year ago

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Under My Tree *part 1* (Knight Obi-Wan x RealWorldFemReader)

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve. Your knight is nowhere to be found and all you want is a cozy rendezvous under your tree. (Pairs well with *NSYNC’s song Under My Tree)

Warnings: A lot of the fluffy and just a little bit of the dirty talk.

Note: Wizard *part 2*

It was Christmas Eve. Stars twinkled merrily in the night sky, as snow fell softly to the ground. All so magical, all so romantic…but it wasn’t the same without him.

You had held out the hope that your knight would have joined you this evening. However, as the party progressed on, it was clear that he was not.

You understood that there were certain duties he had to attend to and, let’s face it, crossing between your realms wasn’t exactly the easiest of feats. But that didn’t mean you still weren’t heartbroken over his absence…especially at times like this.

None the less, you had a nice time. You laughed with new and old friends. Caught up with relatives that you rarely got to see. Indulged in some delicious treats. You even enjoyed a cup of good cheer or two.

Such a wonderful gathering. You were sad when it finally came to an end, and you had to make the lonely trek back home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dusting the stray flakes off yourself, you pushed open the front door and was met with…

Nothing. No music. No twinkling lights. No happy, warm greeting. Not even a worn cloak or pair of boots in the entryway. Absolutely nothing.

With a heavy sigh, you shrugged off your coat and made your way to the living room. Maybe a cheesy holiday movie would help lift your spirits.

As you reached for the switch, the room magically came to life.

The tree shone brightly. All around you candles flickered. A familiar Christmas tune played. Even a fire crackled in the hearth.

And there…tucked beneath the branches…surrounded by a bunch of fluffy blankets and pillows…wearing a Santa hat…posed rather sexily was… “Hello there.”

“Well, hello there yourself,” you giggled, a surprised look on your face.

Offering you a glass of wine, Obi-Wan asked enticingly. “Care to join me for a cozy rendezvous?”

“Just relax, enjoy the view?” You reply playfully, accepting the drink and cuddling up with him inside the little Xmas nest.

“I’ll show you how good it could be,” Obi hummed, wrapping a strong arm around your waist.

“I wish that Santa could be here… Oh, wait, he already is.” You mischievously gave his beard a tiny tug.

Obi-Wan jokingly made a “oof” sound and pulled you in closer. “Careful now, darling; that’s how you’ll end up with your stocking filled with coal.”

Leaning your head against his shoulder, your grinned up at Obi not so innocently. “Then I’ll be sure to do it a few more times tonight.” And gave another tug.

“Such a naughty little girl,” he teased into your ear, fingers trailing lazily down your arm.

“You’re one to talk, Kenobi Claus,” you purred, shivering at his touch. “I know that’s not a candy cane I’m feeling in your pocket.”

Emphasizing your point with a flick of your hips.

“True,” he groaned, trying to keep his composure. “However, it’s a much better gift than what you think.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“Close your eyes,” Obi-Wan whispered huskily. “And no peeking.”

Doing as he said, you felt an invisible hand snake between your bodies. Tenderly caressing down your back, eliciting a small moan from you, before disappearing into his pocket.

You squirmed in anticipation, from the feathery strokes along your posterior. Your mind was abuzz with excitement for what would come next. Except, nothing could prepare you for…

“Open them.”

…a box hovering in the air. A ring resting inside. “Obi,” you muttered softly.

“Attachment is forbidden for us jedi, it’s said to lead to the dark side. I was once a firm believer in this, until you came along. Although our meeting wasn’t normal or logical by any means, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know nothing about our relationship has been easy, but we’ve made it work so wonderfully. You’re the light of my life, the other half of my heart. Will you marry me?”

Obi-Wan’s words hung heavily in the air.

This man that you cared for dearly. Your precious knight that you loved so deeply. He wanted to…

“Yes,” you said shakily, tears of joy in your eyes. “I will marry you.”

Nuzzling your neck affectionately, he murmured. “Extend your left hand, dear one.”

Doing just that, you watched as Obi used the force to place the silver-colored ring on your finger.

“I realize it’s not the fanciest, but I made it myself,” he explained. "The band is a piece of my padawan braid encased in carbonite and the jewel… Well, it’s a sliver of my lightsaber’s kyber crystal.”

Tilting your hand, you admired how the blue twinkled in the tree’s lights. “It’s perfect,” you said happily. “Just like you.”

Looking back, you twisted yourself around in his hold. With a flash of a tiny grin, you pounced on top of Obi-Wan. Sending you both crashing back into the mound of pillows.

You gave him a passionate kiss, which he returned tenfold. Obi even went as far as to roll and capture you beneath himself. Showering your face and neck with kisses, until you were a laughing mess.

“O-Obi! Stop! I-I can’t breathe!” You squealed, trying to stop the barrage from his lips.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t help it,” he chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours. “You just made me the happiest man in both galaxies.”

Gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. You lace your fingers together. Both whispering, “I love you”. And, in that stolen moment, nothing else mattered. It was a very Merry Christmas…it was truly beautiful under your tree.

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dragondevinity · 1 month ago

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Life stopped, life restarted in another world..?

Prologue

Third POV

Dying was less painful than she had expected…

Readers POV

‘I know I’m dead… but why am I in a forest..? I hope my mother survived, and I hope she’s okay..’ I thought while looking around.

‘Why do I have a tunic like dress on..? I swear I was wearing something else before I died… is this what happens when you get to heaven..?’ I concluded after looking at my clothes.

‘Why do I suddenly hear yelling..?’ I thought before getting up to follow the yells.

It took what felt like five minutes to get closer… ‘wait, they’re yelling about a beast..?’ I thought before grabbing a decent sized branch and booking it to the one yelling.

???’s POV

I was yelling at the dragon that was trying to take my best friends arm, while trying to kill the beast, before I heard a yell and saw something… amazing.

‘She’s charging at the beast without hesitation…! But, who is this woman…?’ I thought confused before seeing the dragon let go of my friends arm.

“Are you boys okay..? I didn’t really see the thing attacking you, was it a giant bird..? I can help bandage you up if you want.?” The woman asked kindly towards me and my friend…

“Thank you deary, that would be helpful” my friend replied with pain in his voice.

“Ah! Here let me see that, yep! Here this should work for now until we can get you more help!” She said while wrapping a torn piece of her sleeve around his arm.

“Ah! Where are my manners! My name is Gobber, and this is Stoick the Vast, the Chief of Berk!” Gobber told the woman while she helped him up.

“That I am, pleasure to meet you miss..?” I replied getting out of my stupor.

“Oh! I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you both as well!” She said with a lilt in her voice.

‘She must be new around here..? I’ve never seen her before in the village, maybe she was shipwrecked..?’ I thought while staring at her for a moment.

Readers POV

‘Holy fuck, what the fuck???!?! Am I in how to train your dragon??!? I thought I was actually dead..!! But I was taken here instead!! Okay I can’t panic…’ I thought while introducing myself to Stoick and Gobber.

“Come on lassie, you’re coming back to the village with us” Gobber says while he starts walking off.

“Well, let’s go, best not to keep Gobber waiting” Stoick says before leading me in the same direction as Gobber’s going.

“Alright, sure..?” I replied following after them both.

*skip to when the 3 arrived*

“Welcome to Berk Lassie” Gobber says as we all enter the village.

“As the chief I welcome you to the village, now, follow” Stoick says before leading me somewhere.

‘Wait, is he leading me to his hut..? I’m so confused. Wait, shit, am I in trouble..??!?!! I don’t want to be!!!’ I thought starting to panic.

“Come, I want you to meet my wife Valka” Stoick says keeping the door open for me to enter the hut.

“Valka! Can you come here please?” He nearly shouts out.

“Coming! I’ll be down in a moment!” Valka replied from upstairs.

“Yes Stoick..?” Valka says before spotting me.

“This is Y/n, she saved Gobber from a dragon that was attacking him… she’s also new to Berk.” Stoick says while gesturing towards me.

“Hello Mrs Valka, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” I say with a slight bow.

“You saved Gobber from a dragon..? How?” Valka asks confused.

“I heard yelling and grabbed a branch and charged the dragon, Gobber got away with a wound that will at worst scar.” I replied softly.

“Thank you Y/n, Gobber is a dear friend to me and Stoick, so thank you.” Valka replied with a smile.

“Chief, may I have permission to live on Berk please..? Before I helped you and Gobber I was shipwrecked for days… I would like to stay if that’s okay..?” I asked nearly jumbling everything up.

“Welcome to Berk, we’ll have a hut built for you soon if possible” Stoick replies without a fight.

“You can stay here with us until it’s built if you want Y/n? We can get to know each other better while you are!” Valka questions with some happiness on her face.

I smiled at this, “if that’s also okay with Stoick..? I’m more than okay with it either way!” I replied with hope.

“That works…” Stoick says.

“Come! I must show you around the village!” Valka says before dragging me out the door…

“Okay!” I replied happily.

‘I hope this life is good’ I thought happily.

#stoick the vast #httyd stoick #httyd valka #valka haddock #httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader

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crystalninjaphoenix · 2 years ago

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Downhill, Dread, and Dreams

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Twenty-Two

A JSE Fanfic

Oh wow another part :D I don’t have much to say, so I’m gonna go right on to the summary. Chase, Marvin, and Jameson are traveling to Suilthair. And on the way, Jameson has some important information to share about a vision. Then that night, Chase dreams something similar, but different. Meanwhile, Jackie and Henrik are alone, going south and hoping to meet up with other Phantoms. Nothing else to add. Have fun :)

Previous Part | More AU in Chronological Order

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase woke up first that morning, opening his eyes to an itch on his nose that turned out to be some sort of bug. One of the drawbacks of sleeping outside, but after suddenly leaving the town of Miryfern, they hadn’t been able to reach another town before the night. So they had to settle for laying their bedrolls beneath a large pear tree. It was starting to flower, small white blossoms dotting its branches, but hadn’t come close to bearing fruit.

“Gah!” That sound meant that Chase wasn’t the only one awake. He brushed the bug off his face and rolled over to see Marvin sitting up, swiping at his own face. Something was flying away. “Why don’t all animals respect personal space?!” he griped.

“So we’re waking up, then?” Chase said, sitting up.

“Don’t blame me, blame the butterfly,” Marvin said defensively. “I swear I covered my head, how’d it get onto me?!”

“Well, people tend to move around while sleeping.” Chase climbed out of the bedroll and onto the grass. “Is Jameson awake?”

Marvin looked to the side. “No. Not unless he’s pretending to sleep.” Jameson’s back was to the both of them. “Jair.” Marvin leaned over and shook his shoulder. “Wake up.”

Jameson didn’t move for a while, then let out a small breath, like a sigh, and sat up. Are we moving immediately? he asked.

Chase opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He wanted to ask Jameson something. But...it could wait a little, couldn’t it? They’d all barely gotten up, after all. “We’re having breakfast first,” he said. “Where’s the pack with the food?”

“Underneath Draco,” Marvin said, pointing at where his cat was curled up on top of a leather bag. “I’ll bear the burden of waking him up.”

Things were quiet as they ate. It wasn’t much of a breakfast. They may have stocked up on supplies in Miryfern, but none of them wanted to light a fire to warm anything up. Because even though they had seen all of the warriors in town disappear through a magic doorway into the mountains, the camp still felt a bit too close for comfort. So it was just rolls, with some cheese that Chase had bought in the Miryfern marketplace.

Not that it tasted like anything. Chase couldn’t speak for Marvin or Jameson, but his thoughts were too focused on their friends back at Wyvernlair to taste anything but ash. He hadn’t been able to get to sleep out of worry for them. Instead he just laid in his bedroll for most of the night, trying not to picture the battle that was surely taking place in the mountains. The others looked tired too. Maybe they both had similar problems.

“Are we all finished, then?” Marvin asked once the rolls had disappeared.

I suppose, Jameson said. I wish there was fruit.

“Not the season for fresh ones,” Chase said. “And we’ll save the dried fruit for lunch.” He laughed. “You’d think that, with all the magic in the world, there would be some to conjure up food whenever you wanted.”

Instinctively, both he and Jameson glanced at Marvin, who was feeding a piece of salted meat to Draco. He returned the look. “What?”

Can you do that? Jameson asked.

“Conjure food? No. If I was a sorcerer, I could grow a berry bush or a fruit tree. But I’m a wizard, and food is a different matter. You can’t conjure something like that out of thin air. At least, not without knowing how it’s made. But I only know the most basic of cooking. Hold it over the fire until it doesn’t make you sick to eat.”

Chase chuckled a little. Then he fell quiet. He turned his attention to Jameson. “So... is this far enough away? Do you feel ready to tell us about that vision of yours?”

Jameson looked down at the grass. Yesterday, Chase had tried to convince him to share the vision he’d had, the one that featured Chase himself. But Jameson refused. He said they should wait until the next morning. Let’s pack up and get on the road first, he said now. I’ll tell you as we walk. Can’t waste any time getting to Suilthair.

“Alright,” Chase said quietly. “But we have to talk then.”

Jameson nodded. Once. He wouldn’t meet Chase’s eyes.

They rolled up their bedrolls, made sure everything was secured in their various packs, and walked back to the wide packed-dirt road they’d been following since they left Miryfern. It sloped slightly downward, but soon it would level out altogether, and they would officially be in the flatlands. The forests, fields, and farmlands that made up most of the kingdom of Glasúil. Draco walked by Marvin’s side, constantly getting in the way of his legs, but by now Marvin had enough practice at avoiding his familiar when he got too close to his feet.

They walked for only a couple minutes before Chase cleared his throat. “Well? I don’t mean to push you, but...”

Jameson took a deep breath. Alright. The vision. Another breath, as if bracing himself. I’m sorry for making you wait so long. I had to prepare myself.

“For what?” Marvin asked.

For your reactions. He paused, reluctant, but pressed on. I’ll understand if you’re angry.

“Why would I be angry?” Chase asked. “Is my fate terrible?”

No. At least, I don’t think so, but everyone is different in what they want from their future. Are you ready to hear it?

Chase hesitated for a moment. Then nodded.

Alright. A third breath, deepest of all. Jameson adjusted the straps of his pack, making sure they were secure before he continued. I had this vision at the end of summer. I remember what I was doing at the time vividly. Playing Reversi by myself.

“Must take talent to make that interesting,” Marvin muttered.

A smile flickered across Jameson’s face. I’d just placed a piece in the corner and gave blue a huge advantage when I felt it come on. I can do that, you know. It’s a strange feeling in my chest and head that causes my muscles to tense. If I wasn’t already sitting, I would have just enough time to sit on the floor before I got caught up in it.

In the vision, it was storming. Black clouds overhead pouring rain. But everything was lit up, because there was a fire. A great one, distant but bright enough so I could still see what was happening nearby. There were two men facing each other. On one side of them was a forest, which is where the fire was coming from. On the other side were sheer cliffs. One man had a deer mask. The other man was the King.

Chase heard Marvin inhale sharply. He might have done the same, if he didn’t suddenly feel out of breath.

The man in the deer mask was you, Chase, but I didn’t know it until you ran into me in Abhanna, after Marvin’s planned execution. At the time, I just knew the man was in his thirties, and he came from the mountains. Jameson paused, scanning the others’ reactions. Then he continued. You and the King stood some ways away. You were talking, shouting over the sound of the rain, but I don’t know what you said. And then the King ran forward to attack you. You defended yourself, but didn’t fight back beyond that. The two of you continued to fight, and then you both fell, rolling to the edge of the cliffs. Lightning struck the ground, causing another fire that cut you off. You both sat up, and the King continued to attack, having the advantage. Then you said something. I don’t know what. But after a moment passed, the King let you go, and collapsed to the ground beside you. The vision ended there, but a phrase rang in my mind: “He has been defeated.”

“I...I’m not...” Chase wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but he couldn’t say it anyway. The words got caught in his throat.

“Chase will defeat the King?” Marvin whispered, in awe.

If all goes well. The future is not set. Jameson went quiet for a while. Marvin started to say something else, but Chase held out a hand, sensing there was more. And he was right, because Jameson slowly raised his hands to speak again, gesturing shakily. When I awoke from the vision, the King was there. Leaning over me. He always knew when I had a vision. And with his enchanter’s powers, he saw everything I saw. He knew he would be defeated by a man in a deer mask, who came from the mountains. Jameson blinked back sudden wetness in his eyes. The very next day, I heard him talking with one of his generals about how long it would take to travel to the mountains. I heard him speak of wizard’s fire. I don’t know if I understood what he meant. Maybe I did, but pretended he didn’t.

Chase felt ice creep through his chest. A sick feeling rolled through his stomach. “What do you mean?” His voice was almost too quiet to hear.

Jameson stopped walking. He finally turned, looking Chase in his eyes. It’s my fault. He blinked again, but a few tears still escaped. It’s my fault that your home was destroyed. His shoulders shook as his breathing sped up. He saw the vision, and he knew where you came from. He wanted to stop the vision from happening, he’d done it so many times before, it was no trouble for him. It’s my fault that you’re here, that your family was taken and so many others killed. I’m truly, deeply sorry, Chase. I never meant for this to happen.

Chase said nothing. That sick feeling was growing, and he felt as though he might throw up the rolls and cheese they had for breakfast.

“It’s not your fault, Jair.” Marvin said fiercely, walking up to stand next to Jameson. “You didn’t tell the King to burn the mountain villages. He made that decision himself.” He leaned until their shoulders were touching.

I let him see what I was seeing, Jameson said, hands moving weakly.

“What were you supposed to do? You can’t stave off the visions when they happen. And you were imprisoned, it’s not your fault he was nearby.”

Don’t say that like I was in a dungeon, Jameson protested. I had a nice room. And he took me with him wherever he went, I could have escaped on the road at any time, but I was too weak—

“Don’t.” Chase stepped closer and rested a hand on Jameson’s shoulder. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

Jameson looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. But it’s true.

“It’s not. Jameson, you were living with a man who could read your mind. The King would know if you tried to leave. And who knows what he would’ve done if you made a move?”

Marvin nodded. “He’s right. Didn’t you say that you tried to escape for the first couple years, and he knew where you would be every time?”

Jameson turned to him, surprised. You remember that?

“Of course I do.”

A moment passed. Jameson turned away, facing forward and not looking at either of them. I remember what happened after those attempts, he said slowly. I don’t want to. But I do. And that’s how I knew it wouldn’t be worth it. But if I kept trying, maybe—

“You would’ve just got yourself hurt,” Chase said gently. “It was an impossible situation. You did good for how shit it all was to you.” He gave a small smile. “And I think you’re pretty strong, you know? Not anyone could’ve lasted that long.”

“He’s right,” Marvin agreed. “And you never went back to him once you were away. Despite how much it scared you to be away. You took control back.”

“Right. That. And...” Chase cleared his throat. “You know, there was that thing we did before we left Wyvernlair.”

Jameson seemed to come back to himself. He nodded. Chase? It’s in your bag, right? Can I hold it?

“Of course,” Chase said, and took his pack off to look through it.

Marvin blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Here.” Chase pulled out the object in question, buried at the bottom with his deer mask. He handed it to Jameson. “Safe and sound.”

Jameson took the item in his hands. It was a mask. Made of white plaster. He traced the eyeholes, and ran a finger along the long ears that stuck out the top.

“That’s... that’s a Masked Phantom mask,” Marvin said.

Jameson nodded. You said something similar before, Chase. I said I wanted to be brave, and you said I already was. And in that moment, I wanted to do even more. So I decided to join. To do the same as you guys. I started to doubt myself after I made the connection between my vision and your village burning. But now I remember.

“Sometimes people need a reminder,” Chase said with a smile. “Why a rabbit, by the way?”

“It’s for your family, isn’t it?” Marvin’s voice was soft. “The Jairsolas family crest features a rabbit.”

Another nod. Jameson took a shaky breath. They would want this.

“You’ll make them proud,” Marvin said. “I’m sure of it.”

I’ll make it happen. Jameson took off his own pack and slipped it inside. I’ll keep it with me now. Thanks for carrying it so far, Chase.

“Not a problem.” Chase adjusted his pack straps. “Now. Are you alright to keep walking?”

Of course. Jameson shouldered his bags again. Daylight is wasting.

And the three of them started off down the road again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mountain forest was still wet with rain when Henrik awoke. He and Jackie had wandered for most of the day, until it became too difficult to navigate the mud and the darkness. They found a relatively dry spot beneath a large pine tree to take shelter. The branches were low, so they had to wriggle underneath and couldn’t sit up without bumping into needles and bark, but it was fine for the moment. Henrik fell asleep first.

He didn’t wake up first the next morning. That was Jackie, who somehow managed to slip out from under the tree without making much noise. When Henrik opened his eyes, Jackie was sitting out in the open, watching the surrounding wilderness.

“Jackie,” he whispered.

Jackie tensed, hand going to the sword on his hip. Then he turned around and relaxed. “Good morning,” he said, giving a tired smile.

“Good morning,” Henrik repeated. “Can you help me get out of here? I do not want to move my leg.” He hadn’t wanted to move it last night, either, but it was either move his injury, or spend the night getting rained on.

“Of course.” Jackie shifted position, and after a minute or two, he managed to pull Henrik completely out. “No one’s come by, if you’re wondering. No King’s warriors, and no one from Wyvernlair. How do you feel?”

“Dammt schrecklich,” Henrik muttered.

Jackie chuckled. He knew enough Alterdan to understand what Henrik meant. “Well, we did sleep in the mud all night.” Their clothes were covered with dirt, as were their masks, which they’d worn while they slept. Jackie now pushed his back, showing a clean face. “Do you have anything to eat in your bags? I didn’t manage to grab any in the chaos.”

“These are both all medical supplies, I think.” Henrik took off both bags, each slung over a different shoulder, and started searching one. “Ah! But there is luck.” He pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth that crunched when he touched it. “I think these are crackers or hard biscuits of some sort.”

“Let me see.” Jackie reached out, and Henrik handed him the bundle. Sure enough, it revealed a stack of broken crackers when unwrapped. “It’s not much, but it’s enough until we can forage. Here, you have them. Your leg is still hurt, right? I can work on that while you eat.”

“You tell the doctor to sit back while the not-doctor works on the injury,” Henrik chuckled.

“Hey, I’m trying to be nice.”

“I know you are. Thank you. The bandages are in this other bag, and the infection balms should be there as well, and water for cleaning.”

Jackie did a fairly good job at treating the bite on Henrik’s leg, though he did step in at the end to secure the bandaging, handing off the crackers to Jackie so he could eat. “Do you think you can stand?” Jackie asked, worried.

“Yes.” Henrik said quietly. “I’m more concerned about walking. I will need your help.”

“Not a problem.”

They stood, each shouldering a bag, and slowly started to walk through the Dragon’s Greatwoods. It was lucky that Jackie had a compass on him yesterday when the attack happened, otherwise they wouldn’t have known which way was south, towards the Cliffs of Feall where they had planned to meet the other Phantoms.

The general idea was to walk along the mountain range until they got there, but Jackie and Henrik spent the next couple hours arguing about whether they should stay up high in the mountains or go down into the foothills. The mountains were more difficult terrain, but they were more likely to run across other Phantoms on the way. The foothills were easier, but it was unlikely that they’d find any familiar faces on that route. They debated travel time and the need for stealth until, eventually, Henrik won. They would leave the mountains for the foothills.

“I only agreed because we’re short on food,” Jackie grumbled. “And you’re in no shape to hunt.”

Henrik said nothing, only smiled smugly.

By now, the sun was high in the sky. Not nearly as high as it would be in summer, but as high as it would get at this time of year. Henrik stared up into the sky. It was so clear. You wouldn’t have known there was a thunderstorm for most of yesterday. He stared for a while more. It felt like he was forgetting something...

Oh! Right. With the way everything went to shit yesterday, he’d forgotten to take his medicine. He reached to the flask on his belt, unhooking it. One of his arms was wrapped around Jackie for support so he awkwardly uncapped it with his free hand and took a drink. As always, the medicine tasted a bit floral, like tea. It wasn’t exactly his favorite flavor, but he didn’t have much choice.

Huh. The flask was noticeably lighter than it had been a few days ago. He peered inside the opening and saw it was half empty. That wasn’t a problem. It just meant it was time to make another brew. He capped the flask again and put it back on his belt. Then he turned his attention to the bag hanging off his shoulder, rummaging inside. He found various bags, packets, and bottles of medical supplies and potion ingredients. But...

“Ah, Jackie? I may have a problem,” Henrik said delicately.

Jackie immediately stopped walking, right next to a large oak tree. “What? Is it your leg?”

“No, not that. I am just looking for something. It may be in the bag you have. Can you hand it over?”

“Oh. Sure.” Jackie took the bag off and held it out.

“Thank you.” Henrik leaned back against the oak’s trunk and looked through the bag Jackie had. Slowly. Then a bit faster. Then he checked his bag again. Twice. And Jackie’s bag, now frantically searching through the supplies packed inside.

“What is it?” Jackie asked, the trepidation in his voice already anticipating bad news.

Henrik looked up at him. “I am missing an ingredient for my medicine.”

“What?!” Jackie’s shout startled a nearby bird, which flew away and caused them both to jump at the sudden movement. “What do you mean?” he asked again in a harsh whisper.

“I cannot find the ghíneol root,” Henrik said in a hushed voice.

“Can you make the medicine without it?” Jackie suggested.

Henrik shook his head. “It is the most important ingredient. And before you ask if we can harvest it, no. The properties I need only appear if you pluck the plant when it is mature, and that will not be until fall. We—we need to find a town. One where we can buy preserved ghíneol.”

“Okay, I’m fully on your plan to get to the foothills now,” Jackie said. “We need to hurry. Should I carry you?”

Henrik barked out a laugh. “I do not think that would affect our pace that much.”

“What? I could definitely go faster.”

“Yes, but you will get tired sooner. Don’t deny it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Jackie protested.

“Yes you were, it was in your face.” Henrik pushed away from the tree, standing up straight. “I still have some medicine left. Things will be fine. I can be careful to ration it.”

“You mean taking smaller doses?” Jackie asked. “But won’t that make it less effective?”

“It will, but it is better to be less effective for a longer time than to run out sooner. Things will be fine,” Henrik repeated.

Jackie stared at him for a moment. Then he nodded. “Okay. We better start walking again, then. Here, give me the bag back. And give me your arm.”

They started off again, now silent. Henrik tried not to look at Jackie, though it was difficult when he was so close.

The truth was, his reassurances were hollow. The chances of finding ghíneol root at this time of year were rare. Especially with the way the King had spent the past few years making things difficult for doctors. Many of them would be hoarding their precious ingredients, only offering to sell at high prices that Henrik knew he and Jackie couldn’t afford. There hadn’t been any money in their bags, nor anything valuable enough to trade for something like that. They may have to resort to thievery.

He had to make his remaining supply of medicine last as long as possible. If he ran out, he’d be no use to anyone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase, Marvin, and Jameson managed to walk to a wayhouse before night fell. It was a small place. Wayhouses were built to host small parties of travelers walking along the kingdom roads, so they were rarely more than two stories. Chase had never stayed in one before. Even when he went with the others to prevent Marvin’s execution. Their group had been too big for wayhouses that time. But now, they were just three people. Marvin did most of the talking with the owners, an elderly couple, and the two of them agreed to let the three stay a single night, in exchange for a single silver coin.

It wasn’t too different from being in an inn, just without the noise of other patrons leaking through the walls. Chase fell asleep the moment his head hit the bed.

And while he slept, he found himself back in a familiar garden, one that he had never once stepped foot in.

Through the dreamlike quality of the world, Chase was confused. This was the same draísling he’d been having before. But he stopped having it when he set out from Wyvernlair with Marvin and Jameson. He half-thought they were over completely.

But maybe he should have known better.

Things in the garden looked the same as he remembered. Trees and flowers hadn’t grown or wilted, and the moon above remained in the same spot, unblocked by clouds.

The deer with the golden antlers stepped forward. Chase tried to ask what was going on, why the dreams were back, if the deer was trying to tell him to do something. But he couldn’t speak. The deer’s head tilted slightly, as if nodding, acknowledging his unasked questions. Then it looked towards the distant well as it always had.

Chase stared at the well. He looked back at the deer, but got no other response. So he started walking. Just like the previous times he had the draísling, there was an invisible force trying to push him back from the well. It had been a while since he’d felt it, and he staggered a few times, but he always recovered. He walked steadily forward, and the well slowly approached. Its gray and brown stone bricks grew defined. His eyes flicked down to see one with a crack in the middle, in the third row from the bottom.

The well was in arm’s reach now. So he did just that: reach. Chase grabbed onto the edge of the well, latching tight onto it to anchor himself against whatever was pushing him back. He felt he was about to fall backwards at any moment, so he focused, remembering what he heard the last time he had the draísling.

There it was. The voice. It came from inside the well.

Chase braced himself and leaned forward, putting a whole arm into the well in an attempt to prevent the force from knocking him away. The well stretched downward, shadows consuming its end. He couldn’t see anything. Yet there was no denying what he heard. He didn’t expect it to work, but he opened his mouth... and out came his voice, calling, “Hello?”

The voice stopped. Then he heard it again, and now he could understand the word it said. “Hello?” It wasn’t just his own voice echoing back. It was someone else’s, though in this strange dreamy state he couldn’t identify anything about it. Not its pitch or timbre, not its accent or even language.

“Hello!” Chase said again, surprised that he could talk now but not earlier. “Do you... do you need help?”

A pause. Then the voice asked, “Who are you?” The question was cautious, nervous as it echoed from the depths.

Chase paused. “You’re not supposed to share your name with strange voices,” he said slowly. It was a lesson that he learned from stories about the strange, magical creatures lingering in the forests. You didn’t want to give them your name, because they may literally take it. “But I’m a friend... probably.”

“That’s not that helpful,” the voice said, a bit lower as if they didn’t want him to hear that. He did, though.

“Do you need help?” Chase asked again.

Another pause. “I may or may not,” the voice answered. Clearly, they were also reluctant to share information with him. “What would you do if I did?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I could help.” He looked around the garden. There was nothing that could possibly reach into the depths of the well to pull out whoever this voice was coming from. “But I’d like to. Do you see anything useful?”

“...no.” The voice was so quiet, he almost mistook the word for an exhale. “There’s nothing around but darkness. It’s all... dark.”

“Oh. Do you... feel anything?” Chase asked.

“Just the walls of this room. They’re... circular. There is no door. No windows. Just walls and... nothing more...” The voice faded away. “Where... am I?”

“You’re at the bottom of a well,” Chase answered.

“Why am I here?” There was a hopeless tone to their question.

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m here, either.” Chase paused. “But... I’ll help you get out of there.”

“What do you want for it?”

“Huh? Why would I want something? I don’t need... well, if you were going to offer, I wouldn’t deny anything.”

The voice laughed, the sound hoarse and unused. “I suppose... you could help. I wouldn’t deny your aid. You said I was in a well. Is there anything around that I could climb up?”

“I didn’t see—”

Suddenly, the voice screamed.

“What?!” Chase tried to lean forward to get a better look, but the invisible force buffeted him back.

“The water! It’s rising.”

“Can you swim?” Chase called.

“Yes, but not now. My leg, it’s—” The voice stopped. “Thank you for offering. It was nice. A relief in this version of the nightmare.”

“You’re dreaming?” Chase asked. “I’m dreaming, too.”

“Of course you are.” The voice sounded somewhat amused.

“No, I mean, I’m real. I’m someone out there, I’m asleep like you—”

Suddenly, the force grew stronger. Chase cried out as it felt like a solid wall slammed against him, throwing him back—

And he bolted upright and screamed, “No!”

His eyes darted around the room. It was dark, except for the faint sliver of moonlight coming from in between the drawn curtains. There was another bed against the opposite wall where Jameson was sleeping. On the floor between them, though he couldn’t see him in the dark, Marvin slept curled up under a bedroll, having lost the game of wind-rain-fire that decided who would have the beds.

Chase’s breathing gradually slowed down, but he still felt his heart pounding in his chest. A few moments passed before he felt ready to lie back down. But he didn’t close his eyes.

He still didn’t understand the draísling. He didn’t know why it had returned, why the Horned Elder One had chosen him to have it, or even if it was truly the Horned Elder One giving him the dream. There was one thing tonight had revealed, though. Its purpose. He didn’t know why, but there was someone else in that dream world. They were trapped at the bottom of the well.

He had to rescue them. He didn’t care how many dreams it would take. He didn’t care if they were even real, or if their words about nightmares were misleading him. He was going to get them out of there. He couldn’t stand by and let them suffer.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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booksandchainmail · 2 years ago

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Pale 5.5

“Like… badness carried it here. Or the culprit of the murder brought it here. And there’s no accompanying stain painting the ground in the direction where it’s carried away.”

so this would seem to imply that the driver was involved, but left before Clem could see them. So probably not driving remotely somehow. Why didn't the driver then circle back and take the CB pieces from those teenagers? I'm trying to think through who it could have been, not sure who could disappear that quickly. Don't think we can narrow it down based on who was free at the time, since everyone started showing up pretty soon after. We know Matthew had confirmed who was in the group before Avery went to meet them, so he maybe had eyes on them at the right time?

“Telling you would be costly,” Charles said. “People would know. I’d be expected to pay a price, and I don’t have much to pay with. If it meant taking him down a peg, I’d risk it. Hurt my enemy, sure. But no. It’s not easy. We made our terms clear.”

oh. so that's why Charles is willing to tell her, in order to get at Alexander. But I'm not sure how that would hurt him? Clem is currently helping Bristow, against Alexander if anything. Or does he also have issues with Bristow?

“Was this person who drove the car and ran-” A distant scream cut her off.

grrrrr. We were getting so much good information! So a local who was uninjured from the crash, but still abandoned the meat and ran. Did they want Clem to find it? Or were they that afraid of getting caught that they wouldn't take a moment to grab the meat?

It was like Lucy was tensed up all the time, and Verona could help with that, in a friend way or a being reliable way, but it only ever really helped a little bit. Having someone agree with her and tell her she wasn’t crazy was like… part of that tension was wondering if she should be tense or if she was overreacting.

Lucy's POV chapters have noted this a lot, never being sure if she was overreacting. I hope she gets a chance to talk to Booker, that seemed to really help after everything with Paul. Good that Clem was here to validate too.

“If I tell you everything, how do I stop from becoming my dad?” Verona asked. “Whining all the time, and being nothing but vulnerable, or nothing but a sad sack.”

:( I don't think Verona has any idea of what healthy communication looks like. And Lucy also has her own issues around admitting vulnerability, so that hasn't helped.

They laughed, and it was a tired, exhausted, loopy sort of laugh, Verona’s hand at Avery’s shoulder, fingernails in her sleeve, leaning on Lucy too for balance, until Lucy hugged her and the movement of Lucy’s chest as Lucy laughed helped set off Verona’s own.

“I got out and I’ll probably keep a space in my heart forever for Ms. Hardy for helping me out of that awful dynamic. I can’t even imagine being stuck in it for…”

“Is pretending enough?” Avery asked. “Because I got pretty crazy into some fantasizing and building up narratives in my head, during my lonely patch. I don’t think it made things that much better.”

...yeah

“I swear,” Lucy said, her eyes fixed on Verona’s. “I will get you out of there if you get too old. I will fight to get you out of there if it looks like it’s too much. I will get a place for you to stay, abduct you, or do whatever else, if it gets you clear.”

normally. I would be thinking through the potential downsides of swearing oaths. but here. I am just happy.

The gold leaf letters glimmered all over Avery’s skin and around her eyes, accenting the misty look with the stark black pupils and the irises that had everything that wasn’t that steely blue now a deep black that branched out a bit past the usual bounds.

ooooh. That's cool. And maybe picking up a new bit of color symbolism? (for my chainmail plots)

Fifteen minutes west from Kennet, it had driven off into a ditch. There was a note on the windshield asking the owners to call some number for what might have been a tow company.

well. Looks like the original driver might have come back after all.

so someone who knew the girls were coming back... that could be basically any of the Kennet Others. Why try to take it out of Kennet now and not before? Were the girls better at investigating than expected?

The ghost hunting site was on fire with the heated discussion of the ‘hoax’ and, Verona saw, a lot of speculation about who she was. A lot of that was working to figure out who she was, looking at class rolls for her school. That was, uh, spooky. Even with the mask on…

fuck. That's exactly what I was worried about earlier. ... probably a good thing it wasn't Lucy who went after Sharon

“When there are enough of them, they all die in that moment, and that old, ugly power comes to earth and millions of mankind and millions of Other all perish. As that parent Other slithers from this to its home in some dark world between two adjacent realms, it will cause things that your news will excuse as natural disasters or plague.”

I love all the bonkers background problems in wildbow works. Kinda reminds me of the vibes from the machine army or the sleeper back in worm.

#booksandchainmail reads pale #pale #wildbow

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saving-word-crawls · 3 months ago

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WRITING IN THE CITY: An Offbeat Word Crawl

Welcome! This is my twelfth NaNoWriMo, but I’ve only just learned about word crawls this year. What a fine idea! Having done a couple and looked at a bunch more, I decided to write my own as soon as I got my word count caught up—which happened last Thursday for a few minutes before midnight. So! I present to you “WRITING IN THE CITY: An Offbeat Word Crawl.” There’s only six days left in the month, but I hope this crawl gives a few people the motivation they need for a strong finish. If enough people comment who seem to like it, I’ll post it again after it gets deleted.

What makes it offbeat? Well, it branches a bit, for one thing… my 2008 NaNovel was a branching one, as creative narrative structures are an interest of mine. And it’s got tasks that are a bit more particular than the standard “Write X words” or “Sprint for Y minutes.” The crawl simulates the experience of trying to write a novel while living in a new, unfamiliar city! My novel this year is city-themed, so that seemed appropriate.

The intensity is… medium, I think? Well, I can’t reasonably post this crawl without going through it myself, can I? So I will, and then I’ll tell you how intense it is!

Okay, I’ve done the crawl. I was lazy and took too long to get through, but I enjoyed it! And yes, I think it’s less intense than some crawls I’ve seen on the forum and more intense than others.

So! I hope you enjoy it! Here we go.

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You’ve recently had to move to a new city—it was part opportunity and part necessity—and you’re still in the process of settling in. But there’s no way you’re skipping NaNoWriMo! Your apartment may still be half-furnished with unopened boxes, but your mind is focused on the task at hand! Open your novel, refresh your memory as to what’s happening, and write exactly 1 word.

(Write it down physically on paper as well as in your novel.)

…Okay, maybe you��re not getting anywhere sitting at home like this. You should go and see the city! It’s very warm for November, and maybe going out with your treasured writing notebook will inspire you AND acclimate you to your new home! You call your friend Lindy, who used to be an internet friend—now, aside from your coworkers, she’s the only person you know in town.

“I’m feeling stuck on my book,” you tell Lindy. “You want to go meet someplace to write?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” she exclaims. “I didn’t want to be the one to bug you about it, but yeah! You should really see some of the city. You want to go to the corner bar? Or we could visit the big bookstore if you want someplace quieter. Or! If you don’t mind a little bit of a longer trip, there’s this cool diner downtown I’ve been wanting to check out.”

Which do you choose?

If you chose the bar, you can just pop out to it. Write for 2 minutes and continue onward to the BAR section.

If you chose the bookstore, it’ll be a more sizable walk. Write for 3 minutes and scroll ahead to the BOOKSTORE section.

If you chose the diner, you’ll need to take a bus. Write for 5 minutes and scroll ahead to the DINER section.

BAR

You arrive at a pretty happening bar. It may be a corner bar, but it wraps around the corner of the block—even the bar itself has two vast sides, brassy and burnished. You and Lindy decide to relax at the counter while you enjoy half a drink, then take the rest back to one of the little tables and get out your notebooks.

Prepare yourself a cold beverage of your choice! Then enjoy it while you write 150 words.

It isn’t long before you overhear a conversation going on at the bar and move back over. Someone asks what you’re writing, and you’re all too glad to explain.

Post something about your novel in a forum thread.

Your topic is interesting to the bargoers! It sparks off a debate about something half-connected to your story, along with various patrons talking about how they always wanted to write a novel, or a play, or a book of short stories, but never found the time, and they admire how you’re doing it despite all the recent upheaval in your life.

It’s really reaffirming! But then things go sideways and people start discussing gender identity issues, and while it’s certainly an interesting conversation, some feelings get hurt.

Write a portion of your novel that includes some discussion of gender.

You and Lindy decide it’s time to move on. Wait, what is that outside the row of windows on Padre Street? Is that… a parade?

Jump ahead to the parade section.

BOOKSTORE

You’ve always found bookstores inherently exciting. So much multifaceted material, all meant to be absorbed, all capable of making you a better person. More books than you could read in a lifetime are surrounding you! This bookstore even has lofts and places to sit. It’s up to you where to start perusing… except for the catch: You’re here to write today, not to read.

It’s no use! Spend 15 minutes reading/catching up on the NaNo forums.

You purchase a couple of books that catch your eye, but Lindy makes you pack them away for later. “Focus on the now,” she advises. But where can you actually write? Luckily, this bookstore has a cafe, and Lindy takes you there and seats you down comfortably behind a cozy wooden table.

Prepare yourself a hot beverage of your choice and enjoy it while you decide where your book will go next.

“Okay,” says Lindy, enjoying her own macchiato and wiping her face. It’s time to get serious. Let’s dig in.

You nod. You’re refreshed and ready!

Write 450 words.

A flash of color through the distant window catches your eye. Something is happening outside! You get your friend’s attention and point toward the bay window, and she peers. Is that… a parade?

Jump ahead to the PARADE section.

DINER

After a slow bus ride through downtown, you arrive at the diner. It’s chic, with lights running around the sign and artificial plants hanging inside. The tables are mostly clean but the staff is a little harried. You order promptly from the oversized menus and don’t mind at all when there turns out to be a long wait for your food. You’re writing!

Write at least 250 words until you reach a part of your novel with food in it!

Finally, big plates piled generously with delicious fare get delivered. You revel in the smells for a while. Mmm! It’s just as good as it looked from the window, and even better than the aroma in the air made it smell.

Prepare something for yourself to eat while you continue!

You’re enjoying the atmosphere here. There are black and white portraits on the walls… matted articles about this chef or that signature dish… and abstract sculptures on the tables that stimulate your imagination. After the first few bites, Lindy asks if she can try some of yours. Are you a food trader or a one-meal kind of person?

Trader:

“Sure, if I get some of yours!” you reply.

“Of course!” You trade bread plates and wind up with twice as many things to try.

Ask another WriMo about their story and consider whether something from it might apply to your own.

Keeper:

“If you wanted this, you should have ordered it yourself!” you chide.

“Aw, come on,” says Lindy.

“Nope!” you say smugly, arranging your collar and napkin neatly and getting ready to really dig in. “It’s the principle of the thing!”

Savor what you have. Look back over what you’ve written so far and remind yourself what you love about it.

And then:

“This was really good,” says Lindy. “I’m glad we came out here. You think you might want dessert?”

“Oh, sure,” you say. “We came all this way to a diner, we might as well.”

She gives you a curious look. “Do you want something big, or something small?”

Do you want a big dessert or a small one?

If big:

You and Lindy order a hot fudge sundae with slivered pecans and coconut dream cookies! Write 400 words to work off the calories.

If small:

You get a perfect, beautiful little cherry tart with whipped cream. Finish your current sentence, and then write 2 REALLY GOOD words.

You’re just settling the bill when you realize something big is going on outside. You see moving banners, silver tassels, costumes… is that drumming? Is this a parade?!

Continue to the PARADE section.

PARADE

“Ohh!” recalls Lindy as you step outside. “That’s right! This weekend is the city’s Treasured Company parade! They have it every November.”

“Treasured Company?” you ask.

“It used to be for the logging company the city was built around, way back when,” she explains. “Now, though, it’s more of a general celebration of all the communities we’ve got. Let’s check it out!”

There’s quite a crowd gathering out there as the parade passes by. It’s a downright spectacle! You find your mind drifting as you take in all the various clubs, organizations, creative floats and feats of marching athleticism. There are jugglers, baton twirlers, tall bike riders… it all reminds you of something, and you realize you’ve got to use it in your book.

Put on some music and write to the end of your current scene, chapter or section .

You and Lindy walk along idly, following the parade and letting your minds drift. Eventually, the broad booms of the barrel drums give way to the deep bass drops and mysterious sustained chords of the local entertainment district. It’s getting dark. Lindy tugs on your shirt and asks if you’d like to check out a nightclub.

“Heck,” you decide, “it’s been a while. Let’s do it!”

You break from the parade when it passes by an interesting two-story building done up in black panels with white and silver squares mixed in. It looks like it’s an old building, partly soundproofed and repurposed into a reasonably banging club.

“Is this one of the clubs where you’ve got to look cool to get in?” you ask nervously.

“Nah,” says Lindy, “but I think there’s a cover charge. Yeah, looks like three bucks.”

Write 300 words to pay the cover charge and enter.

You acclimate gradually to the wicked volume level and the dark room lit by little lanterns, glow rings and occasional artificial candles under glass. You and Lindy hang out enjoying the music for a while, and then crack open your notebooks and start scrawling, using the flashlight function of your phones to help out. But it isn’t long before you get tapped on the shoulder.

Write 75 words and stand up to see who it is.

“Hey,” says someone really cute, dressed up cool but not quite as cool as they seem to think. “I saw you two writing there. Want someone to talk to?”

“I would not turn down a conversation,” you tell this person.

“Do you like books?” interjects Lindy.

It turns out they do like books, and they like you too. You talk about your old city and why you moved here, and you tell the stranger about NaNoWriMo, and they’re impressed. They ask if they can watch you write for a while. What do you say?

If yes:

You show off your prowess, buckling down and getting serious despite the darkness of the club. Turn off all the lights, draw the curtains or shades, and write for four minutes with only the light of your computer screen.

If no:

You shake your head and say you work better if you’re not being watched. The stranger smiles and says that’s okay—would you like a drink? You wind up having a long, fascinating conversation but it takes you a long time to make your current word count goal. Stay seated for fifteen minutes while you write if you feel like it—but no internet!

And then:

“Hey, come on,” says Lindy, once you and the stranger have swapped contact information. “There’s more rooms up there!” She points up the stairs to where eerie colored lights are shining out from a couple of rounded doorways.

“Oh wow,” you say. You bid the stranger goodbye and go up there with Lindy to check out the nightclub’s theme rooms!

Which do you choose—“Time Travel” or “The Mystery of Love”?

Time Travel:

You wander through a room with globes and stars that represent a universe evolving, while the walls are projected with scenes from various past eras and glimpses of imagined futures. Switch to a section of your novel you haven’t written yet or a section where you left a gap, and write 175 words.

Mystery of Love:

This place is lit in smoldering pink, with settees and oddly curved ottomans to share with your sweetie, whoever that may be. Some couples are here together, while others are looking for someone to make a connection with. Sit back and think about the characters and elements of your novel until you’ve discovered a connection you hadn’t thought of before.

And then:

Lindy wanders through both rooms and beyond, but she eventually finds you and pulls you onward. “You’re still back here? Well come on! There’s a really awesome patio out there, and people are doing shots!”

“Really? Um, well, okay.” Shots may not be your thing, but you admire the gumption it takes to down them in front of others. You wander onto the second-floor patio overlooking the street below, where the recent parade’s crowds are starting to disperse. You find the lights of the city excite you!

“Hey,” says a guy with yellow highlights in his spiky hair; they match the trim of his cycling vest. “We’re doing snakebites. Wanna join us?”

“I like to live on the edge, but I do it on my own terms,” you say, aware of the street outspread a story beneath you.

“Oh yeah? What’s your poison, then?”

You explain NaNoWriMo, and the guy and his friends sit gaping. “Wow. Fifty THOUSAND words in one month? That’s hardcore.”

“That’s nothing,” you say. “If you guys can knock down two snakebites, and if I can borrow someone’s laptop, I bet I can write five hundred words in just five minutes.”

“Not a chance,” says the yellow-haired guy.

“It’s doable!” you insist. “The secret is to not let yourself use the Backspace key. It’s called a fifty-headed hydra!” You don’t mention the part about how you’ve never done one successfully.

“All right,” he says, “you’re on. Wait until the next round’s about to begin… then I’ll tell you when to go.”

If you’re at a tough part of your story, write until you get to a fun part you know you can write quickly.

Now, DO IT! FIFTY-HEADED HYDRA, GO!

Did you manage it? Did you get 500 words in just five minutes?

I did! I DID IT!

You proudly turn around the laptop and show the cyclist and his friends. “Word count: 500. Pow. One percent of my month done right there.”

“Holy spumoni. You are fast! Lemme get you something.”

“I won’t say no to that,” you return, making sure to e-mail yourself the words you wrote before returning the laptop to its owner.

You did the hydra! Give yourself a cookie or some other treat.

OR… No, but I wrote 250 words! That’s not bad!

It’s not bad at all! The patio crowd nod, congratulating themselves for their assessment of what was or wasn’t possible, but are still pretty impressed at your boldness and your typing/imagining skills. “All right—now you get to watch me jump down into that hedge,” boasts the yellow-haired guy. You e-mail the words you wrote to yourself while watching a half-drunk guy leap from the second story into a clump of foliage, make his way to his bike, and pop a wheelie. With a smile, you sip from your lemon water.

Watch a video on the internet and write 111 words.

OR… Lol. No.

You sheepishly show the little clump of words you managed to write, explaining how you got stuck thinking about a character’s background you didn’t realize you’d need to consider. The shot drinkers are sympathetic and laugh at their own triumph. You find a seat near them and quietly scrawl on in your notebook while their revelry continues filling the night air with activity.

Write 222 words.

And then:

Lindy returns from the restroom and you describe your fateful contest. She laughs with you and points across a walkway to an adjoining patio with welcoming red wood railings and fancy little green and red towers. “Wanna go over that way? Looks like they’re having fun.”

The adjoining patio turns out to be the rooftop seating for a Malaysian restaurant. It’s currently packed because a bunch of Jewish people are eating there for some reason. You remark on someone’s choice of top and soon get into a heated conversation about fashion and how it fits into the broader culture.

Write a part of your novel that has something to do with fashion or clothing.

The group turns out to consist of two extended families who came out to enjoy the parade earlier. They welcome you and Lindy to join them. You sit and nibble on appetizers and talk about your novels. As it happens, there’s something about Jewish culture you want to ask about… (or if you’re Jewish, it turns out one of the families is also Armenian or something and you want to ask about that). Do you ask, or decide not to burden them?

If you ask:

Do some research you’ve been contemplating that will help you later in your novel.

If you don’t:

Mind your own business and write 300 words.

And then:

You and Lindy decide to get some coffee and ladyfingers and knock out another section or two while the atmosphere lasts. You get seated at your own little table, dip a ladyfinger into your coffee just the way you like it, and contemplate where the events of the evening have left you, headspacewise.

Choose a random number from 1 – 1000—for example, by flipping three times through a book and using the last digit of the page number. Then see if you can write that many words in ten minutes!

If you could:

Feeling very smug about the state of your creative mind, you munch on succulent ladyfingers and sigh happily.

Write the next 700 words at your own leisurely pace.

If you couldn’t:

You grimace, clench your teeth, and start banging out words, trying to force your brain to cooperate.

Sprint through 700 words whether you like it or not!

And then:

Lindy finishes her coffee, shuts her book, and announces proudly that she’s at the end of a section. You pay your bill and start for home, awash in your evening’s adventures and chatting about your characters. By the time you get there, you’re confident this NaNo is in the bag… and you just might be looking at publication down the road! You’re hoping to remember this night for a long time.

When you get home, you’re tempted to plop down in front of the TV. But you decide to write just a little more, just on principle. You open your notebook and let yourself relax, willing what comes to come. And you find yourself remembering… a particular word.

Look back at the word you wrote at the beginning of the crawl. If it’s a generic small word (like ‘a’, ‘for’, ‘because’ and so on), look in a dictionary for the next word after it that’s not generic.

Take your word and write on in your novel until something connects back to that word.

Now sigh happily and sit back.

Check your word count and update on the website.

And finally…

Make a post on this thread about your experience doing this crawl!

YOU’RE DONE!

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#medium crawls #medium #multiple routes #word crawl #word crawls #city crawl #city

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