#anyway deli is a story of my life…

[godforsakenpaladinofnigh]

There’s something so heartbreaking about Deli at the end where he finds no meaning and the realization of which the destiny he has been told are all lies. To be honest, Deli’s (and by extension Raphaniel’s) ending is my (current) nightmare. Like wishing you’re a gifted child just to finished college and be old enough to realize you’re meant nothing more than a cog in a capitalist machine larger and more complex than you’ve ever realized. You’re not talented or more genius than the average population. You’re probably not gonna change the world like all the YA stories were told. You’re not the chosen one. You are not the destiny. You’re as unimportant as everyone else.

I’m so in awe with Lou for giving Deli the ending. It completes his arc so tragically and it’s so bitter but also beautiful.

[coryothesub]

I became obsessed with Billie Eilish's "the diner" and now I couldn't stop thinking about what Coryo would be like as the stalker described in that piece of musical art.

Although it took me a million years to get around to writing this, I absolutely love this ask because it finally gave me the opportunity to explore a darker side of sub Coryo. I know the boy's unwell but I still love him sm, poor poor baby!!! Also the ending is a bit sad, but it's not as half as tragic as the initial version that I had planned for this story

nsfw / mdni / stalker!sub!coryo / dom!reader / toxic relationship / a bit of violence / nothing more I can think of

Your phone buzzed again and it made you jump a little. You had the late shift at the diner that you were working at so you had to stay after closing time to do some cleaning and deal with the accounting. 

You knew you could easily get fired for that but you had already had three shots from the vodka bottle and now you were about to take the fourth. It would be fine. You would replace the missing vodka with water and no one would notice. You really needed this after all. After finding out that he had been released from jail today. Would he actually obey the restraining order? The chance was slim to none.

You had met him right here, six months ago. 

“Coriolanus Snow,” he had introduced himself, flashing a big white teeth smile at you.

You would be lying if you said you didn't have a little crush on him when he started coming here. He was tall and handsome, always well dressed, his angelic face was neatly surrounded by his platinum blonde curls and those icy blue eyes, you felt like you could drown in them easily.

He started coming every day, and your coworkers had already nicknamed him “Coryo” on those occasions when they didn't call him your boyfriend. He was always charming and polite, he never overstepped your boundaries. Until he did…

You gave him your number yourself and then the messages started to arrive. Thousands of them. In his mind you two were in a relationship. You were his girlfriend, his fiancee, mother of his future children. He kept asking you about the wedding, had you already chosen the dress, what color it would be, what was your favorite flavor for the cake, whether you preferred a live band or a DJ.

“Coriolanus, this needs to stop!” one morning you hissed through your teeth while taking his breakfast order. He didn't seem to even hear you, he just kept talking about your beautiful life together and how you should stop working at the diner since he was able to provide for you.

You had told your boss numerous times that you couldn't work like this, and after many pleas he finally ordered the security guard not to let Coryo in despite the regular revenues he was bringing to the establishment.

Starting from that day he was just standing outside. Looking sad and confused, large tears running down his cheeks when he managed to catch your look through the window.

Then he was also standing outside your house. Your nearest grocery store. The bar you frequented with your friends. Until one day you found a vase full of fresh white roses. In your bedroom. There was no card, but you knew it was him. It happened again next week, and the week after that…

Why didn't you call the police? You did, numerous times, but the thing was that Coryo had never laid a finger on you. You couldn't prove that it was him who kept leaving the roses in your house. And standing on public land outside someone's property wasn't considered a crime.

The officers just brushed off your concerns and suggested you to change your number. But what about changing your workplace? And your home address? And even if you did all that, what if he found you anyways?

“How’s my queen doing today?” He approached you one day when you were getting inside your car after your shift.

“I just wanted to tell you that our wedding will happen on December 13. Since you didn't respond about the dress, I chose it and ordered it to be delivered to your house.”

“Coryo, please, just stop!” You lashed out at him, not being able to contain your emotions any more.

“We’re not in a relationship! We never have been! Just leave me alone!”

“I don't understand…” he looked puzzled and miserable. “But what about the wedding?”

“The wedding is canceled!” you decided to play along just as much as it would hopefully get to his deranged mind.

“No, wait, you have to explain…” for the first time ever he grabbed you by the hand, his blue eyes cold and filled with primal rage. Cold shivers ran down your spine. Could he actually be able to physically hurt you?

“Are you okay, Miss?” Some guy was just getting out of the car near you. “Is he bothering you?”

You felt too scared to even open your mouth and the stranger could probably sense the dread running through your every bone.

“Hey buddy, just let her go, okay?”

“Is this him?” Coryo yelled at you in jealous rage. “Is this the guy you’re sleeping around with? Is this the reason you're canceling the wedding?”

“Man you have clearly lost your marbles,” the helpful stranger tried to stand between you two. “Just go home and sleep off whatever you're on right now, okay?”

The next few moments were a total blur for you. The sound of a fight, screams, blood, someone calling the police. That poor guy ended up with a broken jaw. He pressed charges and Coryo was finally arrested.

You were still a bit salty that it didn't happen because of your complaints. But at least you got a restraining order. And he was out of your life. Or so you thought.

Earlier that day you had found out he’d got out on bail. Accompanied by an order to get a mandatory psychiatric treatment. But you suspected a psychiatrist wouldn't be the first person he’d look for.

After taking another shot you went to the toilet and messaged one of your friends asking to pick you up. It took all your willpower to ignore the countless messages from an unknown number until the last one came in. It was so short that you managed to see the whole text during the short moment while the notification popped up on your screen.

“I'm here, queen.”

Your heart dropped. What were you supposed to do? Call the police? But what if he was bluffing? What if “here” meant some other place? What if it wasn't even him? You had a new number, he probably did too, you had no proof unless you went out there to check.

You took a deep breath and opened the toilet door. The guest hall was empty and quiet. You couldn't see any people or vehicles outside in the parking lot. You let out a deep sigh of relief. And then you saw it. A single white rose laying on the counter.

Before your panic managed to kick in, you heard a familiar voice behind you. 

“You look so beautiful, my queen.”

You turned around and faced the man before you. Nothing much had changed, he had got a bit skinnier and apparently they had buzzed off his hair in jail. But his baby blue eyes had that same desperate glow.

“H-how did you get in?” You took a step back almost unknowingly.

“I let myself in through the kitchen door,” Coryo replied, he sounded chillingly calm. “My cellmate was a burglar and he taught me a thing or two about locks.”

He made a few steps closer to you and you could feel his hot, unsteady breath on your face. You just froze in place, afraid to even move.

“They let me out today, you know…”

“Yeah,” you replied in a nervous, high pitched tone, taking a quick look at your phone. “I figured that from the 453 messages you sent me today.”

The corner of Coryo's lip curled up in a small smile. 

“Yeah, it was quite a challenge to find out your new number, I had to pay someone and I spent every last dime I had left after paying that 250 000 dollar bail. But I memorized it right away, now I can reach from anywhere any time… I shouldn't have done that you know, but I just couldn't resist. I had to see you one last time.”

That last sentence hit you like a rock. One last time? What the hell did he mean by that? Did he have some insane murder suicide plot in his mind? You realized that you should have called the police when you had the chance, but now it was probably too late. He would just grab that phone right out of your hand.

“C-coryo?” You said, voice trembling. “Are you going to hurt me?”

His eyes widened at your question, making you fear that you had fetched him the idea even if it hadn't been on his mind before.

Suddenly he sank to his knees in front of you, hugging your leg with his cold, slender fingers. His grip wasn't too tight, but you were petrified nonetheless.

“I would never lay a finger on you, my queen,” he looked up at you, his blue eyes clear as day. He sounded so genuine that you felt a pang of embarrassment from your own suspicious thoughts. But could you really blame yourself? He was your stalker who was clearly breaking the law right now.

“What do you want then?” You asked quietly, looking down at the young man at your feet.

“I just want to tell you… I need you to know that now I understand. I know you didn't cancel the wedding because of that guy or anyone else. I know it was my own actions, my own devotion, which didn't let me give you enough space. I have nothing left. No money, no friends, no dignity. My love for you is all that I have…”

You heard his voice cracking and large tears were streaming down his face, falling on the floor beneath you. He looked so defeated, so miserable, so pathetic. It was incredibly sad. But also kinda arousing. You hated your own body for the thoughts that were currently running through your head, but it didn't seem like a taboo any more, it was almost like an act of charity…

“Shhh, Coryo…” you whispered, your hand gently caressing his buzzed head.

He swallowed thickly letting out a few more sobs and you felt his lips touching your knee. His touch was so soft and delicate, the warmth of his lips mixed with the cold tears still running down his face.

“Please,” he looked up at you again, his eyes red and glossy. “Please, I need you. I have completely destroyed myself by falling under your spell, but I still need you so badly…”

Your thumb traveled down his forehead, gently caressing his cheek and somehow you found yourself pushing it into his warm wet mouth, his eyes closing immediately and his lips suckling on your digit blissfully.

He was looking at you with a silent plea and you nodded quietly, giving him the long awaited approval.

Coryo let your thumb out of his mouth with a silent pop and started planting soft kisses above your knee. You let out a small gasp as his lips traveled up your thigh. It was no point denying how much you liked it, the wetness in your panties would eventually give you away.

His buzzed head dove under your uniform dress and you felt his warm soft lips on your inner thighs. Damn it, this felt too good.

Coryo tugged at the waistband of your panties, he seemed to be hesitating for a moment but the way you were pressing your thighs together not to give away your treacherous wetness seemed to convince him and he pulled your panties down slowly, revealing your wet cunt to his eyes.

You heard a soft gasp, the blonde boy sounded as if he had encountered something unspeakably wonderful just before his mouth attacked your pussy with insatiable hunger.

Your whole body shivered as he started planting wet kisses along your folds. Your wetness surely encouraged him and you felt his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hungrily, while his tongue danced around your sensitive bud, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips.

“Oh Coryo,” you moaned his name, desperate for more sensation. “You”re good, so fucking good at this.”

He could hear a mix of surprise and sheer desire in your voice and it encouraged him to try even harder, sliding his tongue inside you and starting steady movements that simply drove you wild.

“Oh fuck, don't stop!” You moaned, grabbing his head instinctively and pushing him against your wet cunt, looking for a deeper contact. 

You looked down at his growing bulge, intrigued by how prominent it was. You’d always thought he must have been some creepy incel whose dick probably didn't work, but apparently everything was more than alright there.

Coryo kept tongue-fucking you, humming blissfully against your sensitive area, the soft vibrations sending you into sweet oblivion.

You were almost there, but it didn't feel right. You had already come this far and now you needed him all. You stepped back, making him whine at the loss of contact and tilted his chin up, pulling him back to his feet.

The boy looked simply delicious, desperately catching his breath, his face glistening with your juices. You grabbed his chin and looked deeply into his icy blue eyes.

“I need you to fuck me!”

Coryo was staring at you in disbelief, his brain clearly trying to process what you were asking. He was taken over by fear. Afraid to deceive that one person that he unconditionally adored.

“N-now?” He stuttered. “I don't know, I-I…”

“C’mon,” you gazed upon him with a shit eating grin, sitting back on one of the tables and opening your legs for him, putting your hungry little cunt on full display.

“I thought this was what you always dreamed of… Now don't be a little coward that throws it all away just when we've come so far huh…”

Coryo seemed to be waking up from his stupor, lustful glimmer filling his eyes as he glanced down upon you. It almost seemed like his baby blues had got a few tones darker while he was taking in the tempting sight.

He exhaled nervously and stepped closer to you, scrambling to undo his belt.

“C’mon, baby boy,” you leaned closer, grabbing at the outline of his rock hard cock and palming it through his jeans. “Mommy needs you so badly.”

He pulled out his dick, making you bite your lip at the sight. The boy was way above average, his cock was so long and handsome. Your pussy clenched around the empty nothingness from the sight alone.

Coryo lined himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself in, watching your reaction carefully. You were almost touched by the caring expression on his face.

“Oh, Coryo, you're so big,” you moaned out, feeling his massive cock stretching you out.

“Are you comfortable?” The blonde man asked, securing your waist in a tight grip. 

“Uh-uh, just keep going!” You instructed, watching his face filling with amazement at how easily your impossibly wet cunt took his impressive length.

Coryo kept moving at a steady pace, watching you with sheer adoration. He couldn't believe that he was actually fucking you right now and it made you feel so damn good.

You enjoyed each and every of his thrusts, throwing your head back and letting out a series of small moans and whimpers.

“Faster!” You commanded breathlessly, pushing your hips towards his pelvis, desperate for more friction. Coryo's lips radiated a blissful smile as he kept watching you, his look wide-eyed and full of adoration.

He was now pounding you relentlessly enjoying the sounds you were making and the feeling of your tight wet walls clenching around him.

“Oh my goodness, such a good boy!” Your praises sounded like music to his ears as you rolled your eyes back feeling the velvety tip of his hard member hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

Coryo groaned deeply lost in his own immense pleasure, lewd sounds you both were making filled the empty room.

“You're so perfect,” Coryo mumbled between moans and gasps, while you were meeting each and every of his thrusts eagerly, aching for your release.

“I love you,” he whispered, looking so damn genuine and vulnerable that you pulled him close instinctively, pressing your lips together in a passionate kiss.

He kissed you with pure hunger and despair, whispering ridiculous love confessions against your lips. Along with his relentless thrusts it brought you over the edge and you came all over his cock with a desperate moan, your cunt clenching around him.

It almost seemed like it was too much for him to take and he exploded in an earth shattering orgasm, filling your cunt with a load of hot cum. His eyes bursted into tears, his whole body was trembling in your arms.

You pulled him in a tight hug, pressing his head to your chest as you felt his movements slowing down gradually..

“I love you, I need you, fuck, this was so perfect,” Coryo’s fragile frame was shaking as he sobbed into your uniform dress, completely dazed by his own pleasure.

“It's alright baby,” you hummed. “I'm here, I'm holding you, it's okay.”

It took a good minute until he calmed down and wiped his nose with his hand. You watched him zip up his jeans as kept glancing over at you with a teary look. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there was an eerie feeling lingering in the air.

“Thank you, my queen!” Coryo pressed another soft kiss to your lips. 

“I guess you're truly mine now,” a weird little smile crossed his face. 

You nodded faintly, starting to realize what you’d just gotten yourself into.

“And I'm always yours,” he said, caressing your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, basking in his unconditional adoration.

Coryo took a few steps back, then walked over to the front door and let himself out. You watched him as he walked under the dim lights of the parking lot and then disappeared into the darkness.

You pulled your panties back up and grabbed your things, picking up the white rose from the counter almost instinctively and breathing in its alluring scent. You started to realize that you had probably just made the biggest mistake of your life. But for some reason it didn't feel wrong at all. 

You grabbed your keys and decided that you were gonna think this through tomorrow. Or at least after you’d receive an overjoyed text from Coryo.

But that text never arrived. You didn't hear from him again. And so did no one else in your town. Rumors started circulating after a while and you heard all kinds of stuff. That he had moved away. That he had taken his own life at a remote place and his body would never be found. Maybe he had found another object for his obsession. Or maybe he was finally happy somewhere far away, at least you hoped so.

You had no idea. But sometimes under the cover of darkness you opened your journal and looked at the single white rose that you had dried almost like a weird talisman. And then you couldn't help but think about that strange night at the diner. And about the young blonde man with icy blue eyes, secretly hoping that someday somehow you would see him again.

[waitmyturtles]

BLUBBERING SPOILERS BELOW FOR I FEEL YOU LINGER IN THE AIR, EPISODE 12/FINALE:

YEAH. SO. YEAH. SO!

This can't be meta. I don't think I can conjure it. Just blather. I'll try to be sensible. First, a little housekeeping before we start the meeting:

We know there will be a special episode (the preview looks..... LIKE A GODDAMN HOLIDAY GIFT, GAAAAHHH).

Peeps are going back and forth on a second season, and while it seems that Nonkul Chanon blurted it out during the final episode fan meeting (lol you cute, Nonkul), Tee Bundit is rolling back a bit, *likely* due to funding. But seeing social media going absolutely INSANE over this ending, I can't imagine that Dee Hup will have any issue with finding the moolah for a second season -- especially after that after-credits scene, WITH HORSES, WITH MUSTACHES, WITH TATTOOS, WITH ARMOR, the whole thang. Tee let that shit hang all out like that. Warrior-era Thailand, let's m'fing go. That was a hell of a lead into a second season that may not happen, come awn.

Alright, with that out of the way:

I didn't think a show would top Moonlight Chicken for me this year, but IFYLITA is my top new drama of the year (with the HEAVY CAVEAT that I have not seen La Pluie yet -- that's for either after my Old GMMTV Challenge, or just making sure I watch it before year's end).

Part of the reason why I lost my gatdamn mind last week on episode 11 is that Tee Bundit did not interfere with any damn nonsense last week -- he let the episode's story unwind without any noise. He let the emotion roll.

The same light touch (or rather, a lack of interference) happened here, BUT: there was a LOT more happening firstly by way of closing some loops that were open, moving to new loops, and shedding more depth into Jom and Yai's final moments together

We got closure on Yai's dad, who was grumpily like, uhhh, I dunno what happened in my life, but yeah, daughter Eaung Peang, you go have a good life with Maey, crotchety crotch. I think that's the best we could get from politically involved dads of 1928 Chiang Mai. (EP AND MAEY SWINGING THEIR HANDS WHILE WALKING AWAY -- SAAAHHSHAY FROM ALL THAT, LADIES, SASHAY.) It looks like EP's herbal abortion left her safe -- thank goodness. We didn't see James or Ming this episode.

For loops that weren't closed, I'm not complaining, because we got an explanation for how Jom's beloved ones will repeat in his reincarnated futures and pasts, through the explanation of the northern Thai ceremony of having 32 blessings reinstated to you after illness or misfortune (THREE CHEERS for @blmpff for capturing screenshots of this explanation!). (AND THE WHITE THREAD, PEEPS, THE WHITE THREAD, I'm coming back to this in a second.) If we do get a season 2, then I will not be colored surprised if we see Ming and James in different roles. (And, yes. Your bitch here has relaxed on Pat's shooter, finally. My nose was trained on James being a colonialist interferer, but he did good last episode.)

But this episode belonged, of course, to Yai and Jom, their final moments together in 1928 Chiang Mai, saying the slow farewell as Jom slowly disappeared in front of Yai's eyes.

LORD. WHEWWWWWWWWWWWWW. The lacy fabric with which Yai used to cover the mirrors so that Jom wouldn't see himself fade away. The empathy of that. The scene where we heard their lovemaking over the flashbacks montage. WHEW. WHOA. (I did say, to my friend @shortpplfedup, something something Jom started really fading away after that intimate scene and something something had the ontology cough cough outta him, ANYWAY.)

The way that Yai pitched forward when Jom finally disappeared.

AND I MOTHERFUCKING SCREAMED WHEN JOM AND MUSTACHIOED YAI WERE ABOUT TO TOUCH INTO THE WATER AGAIN, AND THEN THE DIVER EMT WAS LIKE, BLOOP I'M HERE AND OH, JOM, YOU'RE ALIVE IN 2023. I yelped in the deli, shit. The way Jom was silently screaming in the water for Yai.

And, so. In the "present" day (present dimension, really), Jom survived that CRAAAAZY car accident (LIKE! WHAT?! He flew out of the car into the water, bros! The magic of fiction, anyway.)

He.......he holds space for Ohm?! Looking BACK on that scene, AFTER we get the explanation of the 32 blessings, we realize: despite Ohm's infidelity and his promise to a new woman, Ohm is still important in Jom's life -- he's still a beloved presence, as he did mean something, for a long time, to Jom. Of course, modern Jom did NOT let a moment to shade Ohm pass him by, oh no. But wasn't that interesting to note? That Jom's dimensions would allow Ohm to be in those dimensions -- that Ohm would be reincarnated through Jom's 32 blessings (at least in the past direction).

You know what I also loved about seeing Jom in his present-day apartment, with the present-day Jeed, Ohm, and Khaimuk (aka Fong Kaew). I LOVED WHAT THAT CASTING, THE SHIFTING OF THE CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERIZATIONS, SAID ABOUT JOM'S PERSPECTIVE OF EQUITY IN 1928 AND 2023.

Jeed is NOT Khun Eaung Peang. Jeed is ALL SASS. But Jeed is YOUNGER than Jom. Jom, in 2023, is P'Jom, with the honorific. Present-day Jom can smack his little sister's head in jest. Jeed can be OUT and SAFE and have a crush on her girl friend, safely, and can ask for her brother's support, OPENLY.

Jom never stopped being Jom, whether it was 2023 pre-accident, 1928, or 2023 post-accident. Jom is comfortable in his own skin, and wants happiness AND EQUITY for the people he loves around him. I love that the casting and characterizations of the incarnations of the characters reflect Jom's state of mind that all people are equal and the same, no matter a fancy honorific or a royally appointed residence.

I screamed at @shortpplfedup when I saw Jom wearing the white thread in bed during the thunderstorm. I stopped, rewound, and saw he was wearing the white thread in the water scene with Warrior Yai. The white thread never left his wrist -- he still has his blessings intact.

And, and, and, back to the house of Palanthip in 2023. Who's the lady of the house? This lady knows Jom's the only one who can open that chest. The chest opens, the drawings are there, THE PICTURE OF THEIR PARTY, AND THE LETTER FROM YAI TO JOM, THE LETTER, THE TEARS, AKSLKDF, AND, AND, AND --

Oh my god, I was crying, y'all. Shit. Just our confident dude, striding in, asking Jom, sweetheart, why are you crying. And Jom jumping into Yai's arms.

I was shaking my head. I mean. I love that we learned that Yai actually HAD HIS OWN BLESSINGS CEREMONY because he was so lost after Jom's departure. WE LEARNED ABOUT THE REST OF YAI'S LIFE. We know, now, that the Yai of 1928 yearned for Jom for the rest of his life. So much so that, at the twilight of the life of 20th-century Yai, that he had the good mind to leave Jom a letter, to let Jom know that his life was a good life, because Jom had been in it. To let Jom know that Yai's love had never faded away.

AND THEN THAT YAI CAME BACK TO JOM.

Jom, dude, you're a good dude, for these good people to be coming back to you, in dimension after dimension. That monk was right.

I told you this was just blathering; I can try to put some sensible thoughts together in a few days, but the structure of this story, the empathy of this story, the way this story was leveraged by drama and romance and HOPE. I mean. This series was utterly fantastic.

I know there's the lifelong debate of whether or not BLs "count" as queer media, and in many, many instances, they do. But since I've had the disappointment of Only Friends and GMMTV on my mind lately, I had to note, mentally, particularly during the lovemaking scene, and during the closure of this episode, that Tee really fucking handed it to anyone who criticizes BL as a not-as-sophisticated drama genre.

And you know what? I also wanna say that Tee fucking handed it to GMMTV as well. I am so DAMN glad this series was airing when Only Friends was airing. While Only Friends sat on the opportunity to present progressive ideas on queer love and queer community, IFYLITA ROLLED right into it.

(I'll ask @lurkingshan to fact-check me on the following:) Because this series was a historical drama with a queer romance centering it, I think Tee Bundit could feel free from the chains of BL tropes and expectations to do something truly singular. I felt that what I was watching was cinematic, it was moving, it was strikingly emotional, particularly because I felt that this show was showing me something that transcended any viewer's expectations of what we should be watching, as opposed to, say, a BL set in an office like Tee's Step By Step. Where that show fumbled was in the show itself not knowing if it was a workplace drama or a BL-centric romance.

IFYLITA knew what it was: a historical drama, certainly centering romance, but also balancing conversations about equity and wealth disparities across eras. With that uncomplicated centering, I think Tee Bundit made an absolutely BRILLIANT show, and it fucking WORKED.

I will scream to anyone who'll hear me. If you haven't watched I Feel You Linger In The Air yet, do it, PLEASE PLEASE. Y'all know I am an Aof Noppharnach girlie for life, and I LIVE FOR MOONLIGHT CHICKEN, I DO, I DO, all of my Asian references in MLC and the food and everything, god I loved that show, but --

IFYLITA was a cinematic masterpiece. Full stop. All hail @neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan for telling me to keep with it after my Step By Step-PTSD. This show was worth every last minute I spent watching and writing on it.

Season 2, Warrior Yai, let's get him a better mustache -- let's FUCKING GO, BABIES.

P.S. BRIGHT AND NONKUL FOR LIFE, FOR LIFE!!!!!!! THE ACTING!!!!!! MY GOD!!!!!

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Here is the second part of my Throwing Down the Gauntlet stuff. Series? Idk. Anyway, if you're here for the smut, hold tight. We'll get there.

C/W ::: Angst, broken heart f!reader, language. I think that's it. I read this 243983489 times. But it's like, when you see the words but they don't really absorb into your brain? It was like that. So if I missed anything awful, lemme know, please! Hope you guys like Part II. Thanks!

WC ::: Just under 1,120

Part I ___ Part III ___ Part IV ___ Part V ___ Part VI ___ Part VII

PART II

On the way to the coffee shop across town, you thought about how going there is only a delicacy now. It used to be that you'd grab something several days a week on your way to work when you lived here. On weekends you and Kats would walk over there and get something if you fell asleep the night before without thinking - or caring - to set up the coffee.

Nights like that you'd drift off tangled up in each other's limbs. Coffee was the last thing on your mind. You had to smile a little bit at how coffee-centric your lives were. But the ease of the warm memory faded the closer you got to your old neighborhood.

Everywhere you looked held some story the two of you shared inside the life you built.

The park down the street was where you had your first picnic date.

The corner store was where he bought you your favorite candy on Valentine's Day because he wasn't able to get you anything else. He had to work that day and everything was closed by the time he got off. You still have the wrapper from that. Stuck away in a shoebox that holds so many other perfect moments that you'd successfully frozen in time.

The little deli you two had brunch at often for the past 2 years was where he handed you a little black velvet box with the key to his place inside of it. It was a Sunday that he asked you to move in. You said yes immediately and sat on his lap to kiss his smiling lips. You remember the taste of sugar-rimmed blackberry mint mimosa on his tongue as it slipped past your smiling lips.

You drove past all of that and pulled up to his building. He still hasn't changed his code to get into the lobby. You wondered if he ever would. If he would trust you to hold onto that ridiculous secret.

His apartment was on the 5th floor. The elevator ride up was agonizingly slow. There was a part of you that hoped it would just plummet to the basement/storage level. You got so lost in your little fantasy of being taken out of your misery that when it did stop, your heart leapt up into your throat and your hands reached out for anything to find safety on. But there was nothing. There was no one.

The elevator door opened and you fantasized him standing there holding his cell, scrolling through old pictures of the both of you. And suddenly he looks up and sees you there in his clothes. He falls at your feet and begs you for a second chance. To please give 'you' another chance. As if each of your souls belonged to the other and it was just the merged one from the moment the first 'I love you' had been confessed.

Walking up to his front door, you felt your body tense up. Like it was protecting you from what you were about to walk into. Your hand reached out for the doorknob, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn it. It was like everything stopped. Like something was waiting for you to come to a decision that you had no intention of making. Especially by yourself.

You sighed, pushed it open and pulled out the key. You took a deep breath in and looked around, tapping the little piece of metal that weighed more in your hand than every sorrow you'd ever endured.

Everything seemed to be exactly the same as you left it. The throw pillows he let you put on the oversized couch were still fluffed against the armrests. 

The ficus stood tall and healthy in the corner you both agreed on. "They get pissy if you move them around too much. We’ll have to pick one spot and leave it there." You told him.

“So it's basically a tree version of you?" He retorted, without a moment's hesitation. 

Tears began to pool in your lash line. You thought about all of this; being here. The time that you're here now, alone, felt a lot like it was your day off and he would be home anytime between 6 and 6:15.

He'd come through the door and call for you to come kiss him hello. These memories were slowly making you crash in on yourself. It hurt so much that your time here was now finite.

The bedroom was the last room you went into. It was the last room you wanted to go into. You didn't want to see your side of the bed empty. Worse yet, you didn't want to see his side of the bed - period. It somehow hurt more to know that his side would be filled when he got home. But yours would - "Oh god, oh fuck."

You started to breathe heavily. Dare you say it, you were close to hyperventilating. The thought of someone else laying on your side of the bed brought everything to a screeching halt. You couldn't take a step forward or backward. Your feet were locked into place on the floor. The rug had become a huge piece of Velcro and the soles of your feet were the other half to the grabby, scratchy loops.

Deep down, you knew that the only way to get over this was to face it. So, you did. You walked up to your side of the bed, and stared down at it. It was some fucked up form of exposure therapy if you’d ever seen one. Staring down at the place you'd slept for the last 3 years of your life, you tried to stay composed.

But as you sat down and pulled out your phone, you couldn't hold back the tears - again. They came pouring down your cheeks, soaking your clothes as they fell to your knees. You dialed 9 of the 10 numbers needed to reach him and waited for your better judgment to kick in before you made the mistake of pressing the last digit.

"Any ... time, y/n. Don't … don't do it. Calling him isn't going to fix anything. He told you to get your shit and go. Leave the ke- the key." Your words were coming out as shaky as your breathing was.

You opened your hand and saw just how tightly you'd been squeezing the key. It was symbolic how the shape of it was almost a part of your flesh. The shape was a part of you now, if only for a little while. If you put it down, it would disappear. You'd no longer know that comfort of having immediate access to the one place you actually felt you belonged.

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Eject Chapter 9

Story Summary: Ejecting from your plane in the face of danger? Expected. Forbidden love amongst pilots? Not so much. Will they bond or will this break them for good?

Chapter Summary: Road trip, a walk in the woods, and nap time

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Natasha "Phoenix" Trace All the Daggers, Mav x Penny, Amelia, OC's

Warnings: Language. Assault (not by a major character). Injury. Eventual smut. Alcohol consumption. Smoking. Discussions of mental health. (It's a rollercoaster. You've been warned!) Chapter

Word Count: 6124

Eject Masterlist

I do not own anything except the original characters.

See the Tahoe House HERE!

The return to base the next day was uneventful, smooth flights, no time delays. Rooster was a little annoyed that Phoenix seemed to be, to some extent, ignoring him. He chalked it up to keeping things professional and hoped deep down that’s all it was. They spent the next couple of days packing up their rooms and going through Pentagon-lead debriefings before it was time to head out on their Tahoe adventure.

Before the sun came up Thursday morning, the travelers met in the parking lot in front of their housing unit, coffees in hand and eyes not quite open all the way. Except Hangman. He was too eager for his own good and Rooster just knew Phoenix was going to kill him before they ever got on the road.

“Ok friends, it’s time to mount up and head off on the vacation of a lifetime!” Hangman said in the most annoyingly chipper voice.

“It’s Tahoe, not the Vatican. What happened to no pussy-footin around? Let’s just go please?” Phoenix spit with bleary eyes while leaning on the side of Bobs 1997 black Mustang GT Convertible. Several tired chuckles rang out around the circle.

“I’m workin on it ma’m, calm down.”

Phoenix raised her coffee to her lips, letting her middle finger lift slightly off the cup.

“Let’s drive until say, nine? Then we can stop, stretch legs, and change drivers if yall want?”

Everyone nodded and started loading gear in the back of Fritz’s truck and Roosters Bronco. As Phoenix dropped her duffle and a backpack in Roosters back seat, he moved next to her and quietly asked “Got a thing against my car?”

She snorted then looked up at him with a tired expression “As a matter of fact I do. I don’t trust it. And Bobs is cooler. And has good, working heat. Oh, and your taste in music is sometimes questionable. Don’t take it personal, Bob and I need the drive time to plan the Thanksgiving meal for Saturday.”

He nodded his head in agreement and she squeezed his forearm before walking away to Bob’s car. Damn Bob. It was a cool car.

Fanboy gave Rooster a small smile as he climbed into the Bronco, Rooster turning one more time to look towards the Mustang, but Phoenix was busy adjusting her blanket and neck pillow in the front seat.

“Bird Brain! Get your ass in that disaster and let’s go!” Hangman called from the passenger window of the truck.

“Man fuck you; I’m going.” And with that he slid in, and the Bronco engine roared and thumped to life. They were off on what Rooster had a feeling would actually be the trip of a lifetime. His anyways.

*****

Almost four hours later the group came to a stop at a corner gas station and deli. The drivers all gassed up as needed while others made bathroom and snack runs.

“My turn Fritz.”

“The hell it is Hangman. There is no way you are driving my truck.”

“I’ll drive if you want Fritz?” Omaha tossed out.

“Sure man, here.” And with that Fritz tossed his keys over the bed of his truck to Omaha who took off at a sprint around to the driver’s side.

Fritz merely smiled at the offended look on Hangman’s face. “What the fuck man? You don’t trust me?”

“With my truck? Not at all.” And Fritz walked off toward the gas station entrance.

Phoenix and Bob laughed as they loaded their snack purchases into the Mustang and Rooster just shook his head while adding gas to the Bronco.

“Bob, mind if I drive?” Phoenix asked as she came to rest against the hood of his car.

“Not at all Phee. Keys are in the car.”

“Oh would you two get a room?” Hangman spit obviously still pissed.

Rooster decided to see if Fanboy wanted a turn, but Fanboy didn’t know how to drive a stick. Coyote offered to drive for Rooster so he switched with Fanboy and off they went again.

Rooster attempted sleep for a couple hours, using his headphones to tune out Coyotes obnoxious music and bitching about the Broncos bad alignment, but he never could quite give it up. A certain fiery woman was weighing on his mind. He knew the talk was coming. The one where they hashed out exactly what they were or weren’t as far as their relationship. All he could hope for was to use this trip to win her over. Show her that she was too important to him. But he had to be careful. She seemed fine, but he knew that beautiful brain of hers never slowed down or completely relaxed.

He decided to send her a text. She was driving so she wouldn’t see it until their next stop, but maybe just a little note to let her know he was thinking about her.

Bradley thought for a moment then typed out his message.

Careful Dale, this isn’t the Indy 500. You drive that thing like it’s your plane. But it’s entertaining to watch from back here. *wink emoji*

He smirked at the message and hit send. She would probably get a kick out of that. He skipped to the next song and decided to try sleep again. This time, it stuck.

*****

The group only planned to stop two more times, but Hangman couldn’t wait the last hour to pee. Again. So after three stops and several driver changes, they arrived at the Serasin family house, and the description Jake gave them barely scratched the surface of how stylish the place was.

It was after dark, and the temps were dropping quickly below freezing, so the group wasted no time emptying their belongings into the large living room. Hangman took them on a tour of the place, chattering about memories he had for every room. Some memories were funny, some completely inappropriate and unnecessary. Apparently, he had christened every room in the place, at least in his mind.

Hangman’s room was upstairs off of the game room. Not that anyone needed to be told. The posters of scantily clad women, fighter jets, and fast cars completely gave it away.

“My mom keeps this one locked” he explained, using a key to open it, “she doesn’t want anyone messing up her baby boys’ room.” Which was met with a chorus of groans and curses.

“Coyote, you take the room next door. Phoenix, the master is just down the hall. There’s one room with two beds in it next to the master then two rooms downstairs near the pool. Yall figure out who’s going where.” Hangman pointed like an air traffic controller while giving directions then disappeared downstairs.

Omaha cleared his throat and spoke up first. “I think Fritz and I already agreed we wanted to be by the pool. Right?” he asked looking in Fritz direction.

“Yup that works for me. I love to swim.”

Several questioning looks passed around the room then Bob spoke up.

“Fanboy, want to take the other room downstairs? Closer to the hot tub I figure?” Bob said, feigning innocence with the suggestive comment.

Fanboy seemed to consider this for a moment then grinned. “That works for me. I plan to test that “no sex” rule this week. There has to be a few slope bunnies running around here.” And he winked. Bob just swallowed then looked over at Rooster. “I guess that means the room up here is yours.”

Rooster’s eyes cut over to Phoenix as if asking her permission to sleep one room away, even though they had been doing that in barracks and on ships for years. When she didn’t protest, he said, “Yeah that works for me” and they all dispersed to check out their accommodations and bring their bags to their rooms.

Phoenix disappeared down the hall as the guys all filed down the stairs. Rooster watched her go then heard a quiet “You’re welcome” next to him as Bob walked past to the stairs without looking Roosters direction at all.

He was gob smacked. That quiet, dorky guy was playing matchmaker without anyone knowing. Bob was definitely a good guy and he owed him so big.

Once downstairs Rooster grabbed his duffle as well as the two bags Phoenix brought along and headed back upstairs. He dropped his ruck at the door to his room then moved over to the master bedroom, tapping the slightly ajar door.

“Anyone home?” he asked into the room.

“Come in” she called.

Bradley entered the dark, freezing room and dropped her backpack and duffle near the bed. Looking around for her he realized there was a faint light coming from the bathroom.

“Uhm sorry” He called out “I didn’t mean to intrude; I brought your bags.”

She emerged from the bathroom with a laugh and flipped the switch on the closest lamp to her, warm light filling the dark. “Calm down bubba, I was just hanging my coat up and taking my boots off. Thanks for bringing my bags up, you didn’t have to do that?”

“They say chivalry is dead but I’m out to prove them wrong.”

She shook her head with that lovable smirk. “By the way, I was definitely feeling a little bit like a NASCAR driver today, so thanks for noticing. That is a fun car to drive!” She moved to her bags and started to remove things and place them in drawers.

He just let out a laughing breath and decided to give her some space to unpack. “Need anything else?”

“Nope, I think I’m good. I’m going to go find Bob so we can place a grocery pickup for in the morning. I think Omaha and Fritz brought enough water and snacks to hold us until then.”

“Sounds good. I’m just right next door if you need me.” He said, pointing in the direction of his room with his thumb as he started to make his way to the door but before he could leave, a hand reached out and grabbed his forearm.

“I’m glad you’re next door.” She said, looking somewhat shy. A look he had never really seen on her before. The slight blush of her cheeks warmed him. He just grinned and nodded his head. “Me too” and with that he walked out of her room and across to his. Once his bag was inside, he realized that his heart was pounding, and he still had the stupid grin on his face.

Oh yes, this was going to be a wonderful week indeed.

*****

The drive had been a long one so most turned in early after they arrived. The next morning Rooster woke to the sound of loud music and laughter coming from downstairs. He rolled over to check his phone on the bedside table. 8:47am

Really? He thought as he rolled back over and slammed his face into his pillow. It’s too early for that shit. He grumbled then decided he was wasting precious time and moved to sit up. As he rolled his neck and rubbed sleep from his eyes, a light tap came at his door. Frowning he croaked out “come in”.

The door opened slowly, and the woman of his dreams slipped in, closing the door behind her. Nat’s back came to rest on the wall next to the door and he was able to get an eyeful of her attire. Nat was dressed in a small pair of black shorts that barely covered the necessities and a matching black top with very thin straps. Roosters heart stopped and he prayed in that moment that his breath didn’t reek, and the covers hid his lap.

She smiled a small tight-lipped grin, speaking through her visible grogginess. “I’d tell you good morning, but I’m not sure all the ruckus downstairs makes it good.”

He snorted and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Did it wake you too?”

“Unfortunately” she said as she moved over to the empty bed by the door. She crawled on all fours until she was in the middle then laid on her stomach facing him, her chin coming to rest on her folded arms in front of her. Watching her crawl across that bed scantily clad made his breath hitch and beads of sweat begin to pool in his hair line.

“I’m hiding out. Hangman said last night that the “lady of the house” should cook breakfast. Asshole. The smell of bacon tells me the grocery order arrived, so I figured I’d hide in here for a while until the idiots downstairs got things ready. Just in case one of ‘em comes looking for me.”

“I swear, the thought of physical violence from you really fuels that man. He has a serious death wish.” Rooster said with a chuckle.

“He may get his wish before this week is up. The kicker is, I really don’t know if he’s just playing sometime or if he really is the sexist pig he comes across as.” She says dryly.

“Probably both. I know he trusts you as a pilot, I’ve heard him say as much, though he would never admit it to your face.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Bradley continued “I also think he didn’t grow up around women who were pioneers in a male dominated field either.” With this she giggled and rolled over to her back and folded her arms over her face.

“It’s always weird to hear things like that said about me, ya know? “Pioneer of her field” I mean. I know I’m good at what I do but it still seems pretty unreal sometimes.”

“I’m sure it does. But it’s the truth.”

“Hmm” was her only response.

He contemplated what to say next. He really wanted to bug her about her decision, but it might be too early in the morning. This might also be the only time they would have alone the rest of the week. He really hoped it wouldn’t be, but he decided to strike while the opportunity was there.

“So, uh. I don’t want to hit you with this first thing in the morning, but um, I think we need to talk. About us. Uh, about your decision.”

He let out a huffed breath at the end of his statement, trying not to feel or come across nervous but he knew he was failing miserably at that. He was more nervous than ever before because she wasn’t moving. He wasn’t sure she was breathing either. He was sitting cross legged under his covers and just looked down at his lap, picking at lint on the top of the comforter, hoping she didn’t run out of the room.

Instead, she did something he wasn’t expecting. She rolled over and crawled out of the spare bed and came to a rest on Roosters bed, sitting cross legged in front of him. She placed a hand on top of the covers of his knee. He looked up to see her dark eyes, an obvious war happening within them. She looked nervous too, a look he rarely saw on her face.

“I know you want an answer” she began quietly “and you deserve one. I’m not being entirely fair to you, and I’m sorry for that.” He just stared in disbelief. He did not expect that to roll out of her mouth. “I think we should just see how this week goes and maybe we can talk at the end of it. Make some decisions then, yeah? I don’t want us to say or do anything the first morning that would impact the others mood for the rest of the week. Let’s just have a good time?”

Rooster stared into her eyes as she spoke, listening intently to her words. It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. But she wanted to have a good time with him this week. That seemed promising enough under the circumstances. He cleared his throat and placed his hand on top of her hand that was resting on his knee.

“I can live with that.” He said with a slight grin, her face relaxing into his favorite smirk.

Her warring eyes seemed to melt into something a little more dangerous and before he knew it, she had launched herself forward, her hands pushing on his chest, knocking him backwards into the pillow, her tiny frame coming to rest on top of his. Her hands stopped her fall, one on each side of his head, and his hands came to rest naturally on her hips.

Bradley looked up at her in complete shock, at a total loss for words, his heart racing. Natasha bent down as if doing a pushup and kissed him lightly on the lips then rose again to look at him with her trademark smirk. Roosters’ eyes fluttered open, and he realized he was gripping her small but firm hips harder than he probably should have been. He was fighting against every urge in his body, telling him in that moment to pull her hips down to meet his and kiss her senseless. They stayed that way, staring at each other, both panting lightly. Then she smiled a full smile.

“Do you smell bacon? I smell bacon.” She said with a raised eyebrow. And with that she rolled off of him and flitted quickly out of the room without a look backwards.

All Rooster could do was watch her leave then reach under the covers, his mind racing with all sorts of inappropriate yet delicious thoughts.

*****

After a long, almost frigid shower, Rooster threw on a pair of gym shorts and a black t-shirt and decided to face the music. Literally. The breakfast party was still hopping downstairs when he made his way down the staircase. The happy sight that greeted him made him grin. It was easy in this relaxed setting to forget just how precious life is and how any one of them could have been lost just a week ago.

Bob and Fanboy were moving around the kitchen, working on food and dishes. Hangman, Coyote, and Omaha sat in the tall chairs at the kitchen counter, empty plates in front of them as they talked amongst themselves enthusiastically. Fritz was curled up in the lounge chair, his back to Rooster. Then his eyes fell on her. Nat was wearing her favorite pair of gray sweatpants with NAVY written down the side of them in blue and a blue tank top. Her hair was piled up on top of her head and she was nested in the crook of the large sectional, a warm mug of coffee in her hands. She looked up at him and smiled innocently. As if nothing had happened. He stood there smirking at her when a loud, obnoxious voice rang out.

“It’s about damn time you drag your lazy ass out of bed Slow Ride.” Hangman was smiling wide, and Coyote gave him a quick high five. Everyone turned to look at him.

“Fuck you man, some of us actually drove yesterday, so who’s the lazy one.” And he popped Hangman on the back of the head as he walked past him around into the kitchen, grabbing a plate off the counter as he did.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t be mad if we didn’t leave you any food though.”

Bob spoke dryly from the other end of the kitchen where he was putting away clean dishes, his back to everyone. “There’s plenty. Look on the stove top Rooster, help yourself.”

“Thanks friend.” He said, looking at Hangman as he accentuated the word friend.

He loaded up a plate full of bacon, potatoes, and eggs then moved around to the tall chairs, taking the one on the end, purposely keeping two chairs between him and Hangman.

“Well birdie, did you find your accommodations suitable?”

Rooster snorted as he shoveled food into his mouth. He didn’t realize just how hungry he was, for actual food that is. Without looking up from his plate he let out a grunt but kept eating.

“A true man of many words.” The smartass replied then turned to look at Phoenix. “So friends, what do yall want to do today?”

Phoenix spoke first “At some point today we have to do some prep work on the food for our feast tomorrow.”

Hangman shook his head “Ok buzzkill. What fun things do yall want to do today?” Phoenix just rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee.

Fanboy spoke up next “I want to go to the ski lodge you mentioned. Maybe I can snag a date for our dinner tomorrow.”

“Now we’re talking.” Hangman replied. Omaha and Coyote agreed they wanted to go as well. Bob decided he wanted to stay and swim some before helping Phoenix prep the meal. Fritz and Rooster agreed to stay and help.

“I think I’m going to bundle up here in a little bit and take a walk down the trail to the lake. I want to see it.” Phoenix spoke up.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Bob agreed.

Plans were made, dishes were washed, and everyone dispersed to get ready for their day’s events. Once the ski lodge group left, the other half convened downstairs, donned in winter clothing, ready to take their walk. Fritz decided he wanted to stay behind and watch a movie in the theater room, so Bob, Phoenix, and Rooster set off to the lake.

The sun was out but the temperature was barely above freezing as the three friends made their way down a wooded trail, covered with the light dusting of snow from the day before. Natasha and Bob walked ahead of Rooster, chatting about their surroundings and the things that needed to be prepped today for tomorrow’s meal. Rooster wandered behind them, half listening, half watching his step, and occasionally catching glimpses of Nat’s smile when she was turned to face him or Bob. She seemed so happy and free, the intensity she normally carried with her melting away like snow in the sun.

After a half hour, they reached a clearing in the trees and a ledge overlooking the lake. The view was breathtaking. Clear water ringed by white and trees as far as they could see.

Rooster came to stand at the ledge with Phoenix between Bob and him. They all stood staring at the sight before them.

“Wow.” Bob said barely above a whisper.

“Agreed” Rooster said and Nat just nodded her head.

“You know, we see this stuff from the sky but it’s so different down here, completely immersed in this level of beauty. Its otherworldly.” Bob said, looking over at the two pilots. Both of them turned their heads and stared at him. Obviously uncomfortable with the sudden microscope he was under Bob spoke again. “What? I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“Huh. Learn something new every day.” Rooster said and Phoenix giggled.

“Yeah, well. I’m going to walk down to that clearing over there” Bob pointed to his right where the trail continued to another clearing a little further down the rock ledge. “Hangman said there are some natural tree benches there. I want to Facetime my sister, show my nieces the view.” And with a nod of his head, the bespeckled man turned and headed down the trail until he moved out of sight.

Rooster looked down at Natasha as she turned to look up at him.

“You know he did the whole room thing on purpose, right?” Rooster asked her suspiciously, wondering if she in fact knew this to be true.

“I figured. He really is a stealthy one. You know he caught on to us immediately that first night in the Hard Deck? He knew we had some sort of history and in his own, quiet way worked out enough to know that one way or the other, you and I work well together.” She said.

Rooster grinned, reaching out with his right hand to take her left. “We do work well together huh?” He asked, somewhat rhetorically.

“We do. No matter what, at least from a professional perspective, we will always make a badass team.”

“Hell yeah” he responded and brought the back of her gloved hand up to his lips as she smirked.

“So much for professionalism” she chastised in a playful manner. He laughed then leaned in to kiss her lightly on her lips.

“Now that was unprofessional” he said with a smirk as she just shook her head.

They decided to rejoin Bob. They found him walking around the clearing showing two giggling little girls the snow and trees and answering their rapid-fire questions about his most recent trip to sea. He of course was giving as little information as possible, but his face lit up when he looked up to see the two pilots.

“Ashley, Avery, there’s someone I want yall to meet.” He said, waving Phoenix over to where he was standing in the middle of the clearing. She walked over and came to stand next to him, smiling into the screen as he turned it to face her.

“Girls, this is Phoenix. She is my pilot!” he said animatedly, and Rooster could see both girls look of shock and awe as he moved up behind Bob and Phoenix.

“No way” the older child said “she’s a girl” she said questioningly, seeming a little confused but excited.

Bob and Phoenix both chuckled. “That I am. I’m so glad to meet both of you. Your Uncle Bobby talks about you both all the time. Maybe sometime the two of you can come with your mom and dad down to Lemoore and I can give you a look at my plane.” Phoenix said with matching enthusiasm to the sweet, shining eyes in front of her.

Both girls started squealing excitedly with chants of “Really?” and “Can we? Can we?”

Bob replied “Of course! I would love that for yall.”

The girls giggled as an adult woman came into view. “Ok you two, quit hogging your uncle, I want to talk to him too. Go play.” She said as she took the phone from the girls.

The older child spoke one more time. “I can’t wait to see you Uncle Bobby. I miss you. Phoenix, you are so cool!” and then she passed off the phone to her smiling mom.

Bob went on to introduce Phoenix to his sister Rachel and the two spoke with her for about 10 minutes. Rooster made his way to one of the fallen tree trunks and took a seat. He watched his Fire Bird with awe. Bobs sister asked her questions about being a female pilot, what it was like working with her brother, working with all the testosterone, her accomplishments. Towards the end of the conversation she called her daughters back to the phone and allowed them to ask Phoenix a few questions as well. The children were completely in love with the strong woman, just as he was.

Bob held the phone looking all the proud uncle as he watched his pilot chat happily with his family. Rooster suddenly knew why Nat was so hesitant with him. All of her words on the carrier slammed into him like a jet going Mach 10. She had this responsibility that rested on her shoulder. Young girls like Bobs nieces look at her and see a future that Natasha and other women had to fight to make a possibility. Something that seemed farfetched when Natasha was growing up was now an easily obtainable career option for little girls and his heart ached. She obviously loved not only flying but sharing her love of flying and encouraging those little girls to reach for something like that, if they wanted. He could never be the one to put her in the position to have to choose that love for his love. He wouldn’t do to her what Maverick had done to him. Bradley wouldn’t try to take her lifelong dream from her over his own selfishness. Or at the very least, he wouldn’t make it more difficult than it already had been for her.

He decided then and there that whatever fun they had this week could only really be platonic unless Nat said otherwise, and he practically shattered on the inside. Her happiness was all that mattered to him, and he was watching her at her absolute happiest in a beautiful setting and he wanted that to be the best memory she took from this trip.

*****

Rooster was quiet on the walk back, deep in contemplation while Nat and Bob discussed his nieces and their excitement over “meeting” Phoenix. Back at the house they found Fritz asleep in the movie room while a World War II flick played out on the screen. Bob and Phoenix changed back into comfortable clothing and decided to start working on the food for Thanksgiving. Rooster needed some quiet time to think so he decided to head up to his room and take a nap. He quickly changed out of his warm clothing and back into his athletic shorts before crawling into the bed.

He was almost asleep when a tap came at the door. This time she didn’t wait for him to respond, and Natasha slid into the door and locked it behind her. She walked across the room and slid her sweatpants down her toned legs, revealing small blue shorts underneath. Then wordlessly she crawled under the covers next to Bradley and came to rest with her head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her.

“I think now is a great time to get our missed nap in.” She stated matter-of-factly.

He squeezed her into him and placed a light kiss on the top of her head in response. Her warm body felt incredible, her tiny frame fit perfectly at his side. But instead of feeling excited and elated, he felt torn. For years this is what he wanted, to have her cuddling in his arms. But now strong feelings of guilt were washing over him as he thought of her conversation with two giggling little girls earlier. Bradley drifted off to the sound of her light breaths and his wandering thoughts of a future he wasn’t sure he really wanted anymore.

*****

An hour later Rooster came back to life to the realization he was alone in the bed. And they say Bob is the stealthy one. He never heard her leave. She sure liked to do that.

With a sigh he crawled out of the bed and headed downstairs to see what was going on. He found Nat and Bob standing in the kitchen chopping vegetables and prepping a turkey for the oven.

“Hey sleepy head. Care to join us?” she asked with a smile.

Bob looked up at Rooster over the top of his glasses, a knowing grin on his face.

“Uh yeah, let me wash my hands.”

With that he spent the next couple of hours working around the kitchen with Bob and Natasha while they sang, told jokes, and swapped war stories.

As the bird went in the oven the ski lodge group returned, crashing through the front door loudly laughing and chatting as they removed their boots and coats.

“Bobby boy, you missed out. Fanboy found a pair of nerd girls and had them all to himself. Oh wait, probably not your type huh?”

“Bagman, eat shit.” Bob spat as he adjusted the temperature on the oven.

“Daaaang. He told you.” Fanboy voiced mockingly as he entered the kitchen.

“What? I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” Hangman said defensively and Bob just shot him an unamused look.

“I have a proposition for yall. We should go to the Opal at Bally’s tonight. Its just over the border in Nevada. Dancing, drinking, ladies. Lets make a bet, see if we can get Bobby Boy’s cherry popped tonight.”

Coyote laughed, Phoenix looked ready to throw the knife in her hand, and Fanboy just shook his head.

“Serasin, believe it or not I haven’t been a virgin for a very long time and really don’t need your help in that department.” And with that Bob sat down the towel he was wiping his hands with and made for the stairs down to the movie room.

“I swear to God, you open your mouth and literal shit just pours out of it. What is it about that man that threatens you so much? Is It because he is a better person than you could ever hope to be or what?” Rooster had reached up to remove the knife from Phoenix hand as she spit her words at Hangman, practically shouting at him.

“What? I was just having some fun with the guy?”

“Your idea of fun involves being a dick. Pretty sure dick isn’t what Bob is into.” she said, completely unamused with Hangman.

“Wait. He’s straight?” Coyote asked looking completely stunned.

“You thought he was gay? And you thought he was a virgin?” Fanboy asked, looking disbelieving at the two pilots.

Rooster snorted and Omaha moved past them, mumbling something about going to the bathroom as he disappeared towards his room behind the kitchen.

“None of this is your business, Jake. You need to go apologize.”

Hangman started to protest but then Coyote popped his arm with the back of his hand to stop him. He huffed and said “fine” before disappearing down the stairs with Coyote.

“He was a dick the whole time we were gone. I think this whole “Savior” complex is going to his head. You should have heard the shit he was saying to any woman who was breathing at the lodge.” Fanboy said as he moved to the sink to wash his hands.

“Sounds like you found some snow bunnies though?” Phoenix asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.

Fanboy began helping Phoenix with the vegetables so Rooster decided to go downstairs and make sure Bob hadn’t killed hangman and gotten blood on the carpet.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs though, Rooster found a much different scene than he expected. The three men were sitting in recliners, talking. Bob in the middle with a pilot on either side of him. Rooster stopped in the doorway since they couldn’t see him and decided to listen in.

“You know I was just fuckin around with you right?”

“You do know I’ve been listening to that crap my entire career, right?”

“Aw man come on, its what we do. We screw with each other.”

“Hangman, when have I ever come across to you as the “screw with each other” type? My glasses and quiet demeanor do not automatically mean I am here as your personal punching bag. You have been an asshole to me since the moment we met, and you haven’t been much better.” Bob accused, looking over at Coyote. Rooster silently agreed. Both pilots had been unnecessarily pushy towards Bob.

There was silence for a few moments then Hangman spoke again.

“You’re right man. I’m sorry. I’m a dick by nature and I’ve never really given you chance. I just made assumptions and haven’t really gotten to know who you really are.”

Rooster was shocked and impressed at the sounds of an apology from Jake Serasin’s mouth. Coyote spoke up.

“I’m sorry too.”

“I appreciate that. Remember, we’re all on the same team. I graduated from the same Academy you did, from Top Gun the same as you. And unlike yall, I was actually chosen for the mission last week. I’d say I’ve earned some respect.”

Both pilots seemed impressed with the shade Bob had thrown them. Rooster was too. Go Bob he thought to himself.

“You are exactly right. So, let us make it up to you. Come out with us tonight. Just as buddies, no pressure on anything else. Do you dance? Drinks on me.” Hangman said as he clapped Bob on the back.

“I dance. I don’t drink thought.” Bob replied.

“Hey, I didn’t say alcohol.”

“Ok then, sure. Why the hell not.”

“Alright then.”

Rooster backed out of the door frame and returned up the stairs. He walked into the kitchen to see Phoenix and Fanboy hard at work. Phoenix looked up and asked, “Bob ok?”

“He’s got a sharper tongue than most realize. He put them both in their place. And apparently, we are, in fact, going clubbing tonight.”

Phoenix seemed appeased and Fanboy smiled and nodded his head as he started to dance while chopping.

“Oh yeah! This is going to be lit.”

Phoenix and Rooster looked at each other and laughed at their friend and his funny dance moves. Tonight, the Daggers were hitting the town.

Chapter 10 ->

[skeez-queen13]

Life Update

[✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️]

I guess it's kind of official- but I finally made it out of my small town~!!!! It's kind of a long story, but I've been living in the city for about a year now. I didn't really plan on moving, but it just....sort of happened.

And I honestly am so eternally grateful. Especially for all of the kind people and organizations that have helped me make it this far.

I won't go into details, I mean- I remember when I used to treat this blog like a diary but that was ages ago and the internet has changed so much since then (like- what is this subscription b*llshit that we just can’t seem to escape these days- ugghh). Anyway- I will share that I am super busy just…..trying to LIVE *cries. I currently work @ this really cool deli place and I really like the team that I work with.

I'm also on the waiting list for housing (!!!!!). I've started the selection process but so far I haven't had any replies or offers to see anything in person (yet).

I'm also trying to go back to school for Dental Hygiene. Which is crazy. Like- I really had my heart set on going back to school for art and animation- BUT! At the end of the day I really want to be able to take care of myself and pay my bills and not have my family worry about me.

NGL- @ first, it really felt like I was giving up on my dream. Like- when I was younger I really REALLY wanted to work in animation; however- it was so hard to get started; like- even to make an art portfolio and the more I thought about it- I just don't have the self discipline to pursue animation professionally (@ least @ this point in my life). And then there’s the pressure of relying on my work for an income and deadlines and money and ajdjdjskkskakgg.

Don’t get me wrong, I love love LOVE animation with a capital L but it seems like such a crazy time for the industry these days. I watch from the sidelines and do what I can to support it but I’ve got bills to pay, I’ve gotta eat and I’m not getting any younger *cries in millennial*

Anyway! My passion for art and animation hasn’t died down and I do my best to fit into my weekly schedule as much as possible. Speaking of which! I’m currently enrolled at life drawing classes at the local art gallery and it’s so much fun! And! I went to go see Osamu Tezuka’s Metropolis last night @ the Cineplex and it was such a good movie. It really felt like a throwback to the 2000’s.

Aaahh- but! I digress. I love my new life in the city. It has its up and downs but there’s so much to see and do here. And there’s art everywhere.

It finally feels like I’ve started a new chapter in my life after being stuck on the same page for a decade. I’m very excited and I feel so incredibly lucky.

Wish me luck~!!! 💕💕💕

٩( 'ω' )و

[rose-henry]

stressed+excited+happy+nervous+restless but mostly excited. it’s been a chaotic few days but I’m ready and at peace with this 7 month journey in front of me. feeling so so privileged to be able to live my life like this and witness whatever I’m about to witness :)

today april made brekkie for us!! challah french toast, maple butter and coffees at 8am 😍 bless her soul for getting up and doing this on the first day on school holidays

then maddy was the best person in the world as usual and helped me organise my life by printing all my important travel documents for me and then helping me pack all my last things and clean my whole room to be the guest room in the house (!) alex came over and we had pesto pasta and finished the packing and cleaning and they made me so calm 🥰

then I had a little mandatory in person exchange pre-departure session at uni until 4:15 (getting ready to leave the house at 6pm to go to the airport) and I had a rapid 30 minutes at home before our last family dinner. I had a breakdown and cried in my room (for one last time) about leaving everything behind for so long but then I realised how lucky I am and I still wouldn’t change my travel plans if I could… I’m content with my plans and there was no need to cry! so silly…

at the airport thien starting calling and texting me and he was stuck in tahiti and there was all this drama so there was a possibility that they wouldn’t let him into the US!!! as if his 24+ hour delay on the trip to LA could get worse. long story short we ended up sitting outside the departure gate, with my parents and april still, all on the phone to thien and researching and helping him. he needed my parents cause they know more than anyone else he knows about USA visas and fuckery. in the end he had to book a return flight (which we hadn’t booked yet) from LA for the end of jan (the date of which we hadn’t decided yet, now it’s decided for us) in tahiti on his layover where he was never supposed to be in the first place. he’s now flying from tahiti to LA and doesn’t know if they’ll actually let him into the country so I’m now just stressed about thien and completely fine for my whole trip. literally fuck america and their government and immigration laws. no one ever move there please.

after all that fuckery I returned to my family and said our proper goodbyes, they felt rushed and not right at all but they had to be done and it’s all okay now. I cried a bit through the security line after leaving them, I kept turning back around as I was walking away to see them and they stayed forever still waving and smiling, until once I turned around and they weren’t there anymore :(

anyway…. after all of that I am finally resting and at peace at gate 7. it’s 8:25pm and boarding is at 8:35! I’m so excited for singapore airport and my ultimate deli sandwich that I made for myself at my last day of work at the market yesterday.

bye melbourne 👋

[heavyhitterheaux]

How Ree's car got totaled on the way to Kentucky, she went back home to Maryland and still made it back on time for the show and Jackman gave her backstage passes 🥴😐

Okay, buckle the fuck up because

HERE

WE

GO

Okay sooo I'm really not going to get into the whole accident part because I'm still pretty sad about it for obvious reasons but I will give yall a timeline about how everything worked out

I left on Friday at 3 am from Maryland in order to get to Louisville by 1:30- 2 pm because the way I drive, it was NOT about to take 9 hours

Zoom zoom, bitch

Okay anyway

We are literally 3 and a half hours away when the accident happened and why when my dumbass made sure I had all my limbs and my glasses weren't broken, I was like.... okay soooo.... how are we getting to Kentucky?

BITCHHHHH THE FUCKING DEDICATION

I was very upset because I knew that I had to call my sister and I feel like I failed because I wanted to prove that I was responsible enough to do this seeing as I basically don't go anywhere without her

I have literally never been away from my sister longer than like 72 hours

And of course she's like you're my only sister and I could care less about the car all that matters is that you're alive 🥺

And of course we both proceeded to cry

Long story short, I had to end up going back home (keep in mind ya girl was more than halfway there)

So Shantai who was driving my car at the time (remember she went with me to see him in October)

She gets admitted to the hospital because she basically blacked out while she was driving my car and yeah

ANYWAY

So my big sister, Rae, comes to the rescue

She had dropped me off at the nail shop because two of them broke in the accident and she's like it looks like we're going on a road trip 😭😭😭

She knows how important this was to me and that this was basically a late birthday/Christmas gift to myself and I was determined to get back to Kentucky because I fought for my damn life to get those tickets

Like I was crying so much that it wasn't even funny

I got some things out of my car when I originally went home, but coming back with Rae, I got the rest and took the plates off

(We not gonna talk about how my front license plate was basically ripped off and sitting in the back seat along with other pieces of my car 🙃)

Like airbags are deployed and the entire underside is ruined and yeah soo

TOTALED

Just grateful to walk away without any broken bones, I'll take the broken heart from losing my first car that I worked so hard for

Onto bigger and better and I can't change the past

We left Sunday morning at 3 am, got into Louisville around 2 something and because the reservation was still in Shantai's name and they actually HELD THE ROOM (which we were all very surprised by), we stayed at The Galt House Hotel which is right next to the KFC Yum Center.

THAT SHIT WAS NICEEEE

It was like a damn apartment up in that bitch

And I was lowkey sad about not being able to be there that long

Like ya girl was about to visit Churchill Downs, eat Alfredo at Vincenzo's and go to Morris Deli

But it's okay, I'll be back

So because I am fucking exhausted, I go to sleep and get up to take a shower and get ready

BITCHHHHH I'm hype now

I GET TO SEE MY BABY FOR THE SECOND TIME IN 2 MONTHS

Okay so let's get into this outfit

White shirt

Black tulle skirt

Fishnets

Combat boots

Leather jacket

YA GIRL WAS LOOKING FUCKING AMAZING, OKAY!?! (And I got Hella compliments. Everyone was like you look so pretty 🥺😭)

By this time, it's like 7:40 and we walk to the arena

IT WAS FUCKING FREEZING

Anyway, the arena is huge and it took us a minute to find our seats

Once we did, I could have cried because it was like the perfect view 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay so me and Rae are vibing to the opening acts and then I hear the first notes of Talk of the Town and I was like

BITCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HERE

WE

FUCKING

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AHHHHHHHH

When he hit the stage I SWEA TA GAWD he looked so fine and I said it loud as shit too lmao

My sister was like Oh... he is cute

I was like HEAUX BACK UP!

I SAW HIM FIRST 😭😭😭

So we're dancing and singing however why do I always happen to pick the section that is NEVER lit

(Section 111 do better, babes. Ya killing me smalls)

But I don't fucking care

YA GIRL IS GOING IN

SUNDOWN

GHOST

21C/DELTA

TYLER HERRO

LUV IS DRO

WARSAW

Literally screaming every lyric at the top of my lungs

Okay so boom

OUTFIT CHANGE

I was like okay baby I see you looking like you stepped out 1970

Oh important side note: URBAN WAS FUCKING HIDING ALL NIGHT FROM ME AGAIN (I'm getting real tired of his shit)

Okay back to the story

LIKE A BLADE OF GRASS

MOVIE STAR

NAIL TECH

POISON

WHAT'S POPPIN

ALREADY BEST FRIENDS

INDUSTRY BABY

Oh

My

Gawd

When he did State Fair, I just about MELTED 🥺🥺🥺

And then the girl with the sign talking about the titties missed you

And Jack was like excuse me this is a family show 😭😭😭

But yet...

You got a song called I Wanna See Some Ass bro....

Okay, Jackman

Of course he had the hose and acted like a damn fool

And of course the little basketball thingy

They kept missing except one person so Jack was like if I make it, they all win

He missed like 3 times

And I was like bitch

Cancel the movie NEOW 😭😭😭

Like he is the definition of white men can't jump lmaooooo

I kid, I kid lmao

Anyway

IT WAS HOT AS FUCK IN THERE

And the fire DID NOT HELP

I was like STINK TURN.IT.OFF.NEOW.

A bitch almost came out her clothes

(Backstage with Jackman's eyes only of course)

So I'm just so PROUD OF HIM 😭😭😭

Of course he ended with First Class and we wait until it clears out because I wasn't trying to get trampled and if someone stepped on my skirt it would have been on sight

And when we get to the merch line, my sister was like uhh yeah imma need a shirt too 😭😭😭

She has officially come to the dark side

I saw my mother in law and she is actually taller than what I expected

Like I was just walking, turned to the left and did a double take lmaoooo

And I told her I would help cook for Christmas lmaoo

Like Jack stole her entire face 😭😭😭

So we get our shirts and... I TOOK A PIC NEXT TO THE KFC BUCKET WITH BIG HEAD'S FACE ON IT!

That bucket was tall as fuck

Okay so after that

We only slept for four hours before getting back on the road to go home

We made it to the Maryland state line in 6 hours 😭

Very thankful my sister drove because even though I wasn't driving when the accident took place, I just can't bring myself to do it right now.

All in all

I had an amazing time and much thanks to my big sister for saving the day and making her little sister's wish come true 🥺

[hose270]

On 2023

I stand upon the precipice of 2024, considering the errors made and chances missed before. Of joy, I think, of misery, of hope and of regret, and mental mirrors fill my head while watching the sun set.

A year ago, I focused on accomplishments and goals. My homework and my love left me no time to shape my soul. I got a job as a T.A.; I went to DLC; my roommate had a Nazi flag ‘cause he liked history.

I planned an awesome Valentine’s and gave a decent gift; we seemed to spend every weekend in Utah on a trip. I planned a sci-fi birthday heist and shared my favorite world with friends who loved it—but not her. In truth, that kinda hurt.

But not as much as did my throat for fourteen following days! Mononucleosis sucks; that’s all I have to say. I went to my first national scholastic conference and spoke about the views of a medieval feminist.

An angel from a comm class taught a lesson about friends: connections are created when you’re vulnerable with them. But when I tried to share myself, I felt she didn’t care. Afraid of getting something wrong, I asked for help in prayer.

And so I broke her heart—mine too— ere winter ceased her chills. I looked for peace in Hyrule’s fields and Idahoan hills. I failed to make connections both with Frisbees and with friends, but as I wrote “The Fount”, I felt my heart begin to mend.

I learned to recognize—to feel!— the power telling brings, and found a way to channel it through small and simple things. I went to Pride; I made a game about being the light; I made a movie for a class on dreams inspiring life.

A tabletop adventure with my friends taught me to quit obsessing over endings and look for beginnings. It was summer soon: my brothers and my father and I spent a week to bond and bike and hike all to our heart’s content.

My friend was wed; I soon realized that funds were a concern. No options left, I went where I’d swore never to return: the service deli, Albertsons. Although I made new friends, it still was hell; I felt relieved when school began again.

Dating sucks, I quickly learned, but tried it anyway, and finally found myself living with friendly, good roommates. A new FHE group of friends played Frisbee, which I caught! The PPC launched story to the forefront of my thoughts.

The Lump was taken for repair; I shared my poetry; watched FNAF—that girl got bit in half!— a Minion Halloween! And then a diagnosis shook my family’s world… but a promising prognosis eased the fledgling fear, somewhat.

Inside a cabin with new friends beside a mountaintop, I wrote my dreams and wished that I would never have to stop. I learned my lines as Death as I went home for turkey day, and realized I feel more like I’m at home when I’m away.

I wrote a book on rhetoric and playing D&D, and helped my friends reclaim a heart upon an endless sea. I went ice skating with a girl, delayed returning home, and spent my Christmas researching how stories help us grow.

And now I stand upon the edge of 2024, considering the choices made and lessons learned before. Of friends, I think, of amity, of hope and faith’s duet, and to this nascent year, I say, “You’ll be the best one yet.”

[vipower001]

Cant write but short story idea:

This girl (lady A) works at a coffee shop or deli place or something. One day a pregnant woman (lady b) walks in and orders something.

Lady A offers lady b her congratulations but lady be says something like “thank you but i just wish it could be a joyful occasion.” Lady A now curious asks her what she means and lady B tells lady A about how her boyfriend got her pregnant and when she told him he broke up with her and moved in with another girl a few weeks later; his reason being something like “im not ready to be a father and i really just have to focus on my self right now” yada yada bullshite.

Lady B then starts telling lady A her worries and how she doesn’t know how she will support this child and how she cant just give up the baby because even though shes alone she has always wanted to be a mother and care for a child.

Lets give her a sad backstory of an absent mother who would always be to preoccupied with work or something to really be a parent to her daughter. Dad was an A+ dad, supper sweet and supportive but died when she was still in her single digits of age.

Anyway, lady B confides in this random girl she met who was just serving her her drink and so for like an hour she tells Lady A about her fears and how scared she is to become a single mother when her current job is not fit to support an adult and a new born child.

So after she tells Lady A this she starts to apologize for taking up this girls time and how she should be going anyhow but before she can leave Lady A tells her to wait and so she hands Lady B her contact info and tells her that if she needs anyone that she will be there and that she wont let her go at this alone. Lady B is hesitant at first to accept bc she doesn’t want to be a burden but lady A is insistent and so lady B leaves with the contact info with a promis to call and ask for help.

Pretty much after that its just about these two women becoming closer by one supporting the other and caring for a stranger that walked into her shop one day. And the other accepting this care of a stranger that has helped her more than anyone in her life, she has not been loved like this since her father died.

They fall in love (though they dont tell each other at first) and when the baby is born lady B kinda expects lady A to leave and she tells her so in the hospital. Lady A tells her how she wont leave unless lady b wants her to because she cares not only about her but the baby as well.

Lady B is surprised and also extremely happy because someone she loves cares about her and her baby. Shes asks lady A why she dose and then lady A admits her feelings to her and tells her that she doesn’t have to love her back and that if asked she will leave lady b alone but if she wants her to stay she will care for both of them wether or not lady B feels the same way.

But lady b dose love lady A and tells her so. They both kiss and once lady b is discharged from the hospital the new family goes home to their apartment, there lady A starts saving up money to buy them a “proper home” to raise their baby in. (I want lady B to quit her current job and decide to go back to school (shes doing online) to get a job she loves and one that has a higher pay to support her fam).

I want the perspective of Lady A coming home from work and seeing her wife girlfriend and kid and just being filled with love and joy of seeing the two of them. Looking at them and seeing love. Seeing two people she loves more than anything and knowing that she would do anything for them.

I want lady B to look up from her classes or from where she is playing with her kid and to just smile with love and contentment at her girl.

Her girl, the girl that took care of her from the day she met her. Her girl that was there for her when no one else was. Her girl that held her as she cried with fear of the future. Her girl that has loved and cherished ever part of her.

I want them to grow old together and watch their kid grow. Maybe even adopt another or few more. I want them to love each other, to love the family that they built. I want that never ending love two people can have for each other, that love you feel towards someone the moment you meet them till the day your soul passes on.

Give me a story of a person taking care of and loving another person; not because they have to, not because it’s expected of them, not because they were told to; but because the want to.

.

.

.

If someone would want to write this then please do and tag me. I just think that this would be a cute story.

[vmeemo]

You know because I was bored I decided that you guys get to see some scrapped ocs from my past that I've kept to myself. Why? Don't really know. Probably will try to do all the ones I remember but hey if I forget one then I forget one. It'll have what fandom they were part of in brackets and a brief overview of their whole deal. They'll be under the read more because there's a lot and I have a tendency to over explain.

Melody (Pokemon Moon):

She was made during the phase of my life where I wanted to do novelizations of games I've played but with X character. I made a twist with her though, and by extension the Ultra version which was scrapped. The twist came from my frustration with Ultra Space and how that despite it being the most Lovecraftian place since the Distortion World and yet there was nothing done with it.

Like seriously if you get exposed you become a Faller which to sum up means you're a living magnet to all of the Lovecraftian creatures that you come across. And if you fuck up you lose all of your memories, become a Faller, and are stranded in the middle of some fucking dimension in the middle of nowhere. That's dull and makes it feel like it sucks to study Ultra Space due to the sheer downsides relating to it.

So I gave her Ultra Space powers. You don't botch being a Faller, you get super powers. Inspired from Bloodborne and my minor Mob Psycho phase that's basically the gist of it for her. When I look back at her, her mechanics are somewhat related to what Metroid Prime Corruption had, the more exposed you are the more powerful you are but sometimes it can consume you. It's doable but the mechanics have long since faded from my mind.

Hunter I think? (1st Fossil Fighters):

Been a long ass time since I played the first Fossil Fighters game. I still have the cartridge even today somewhere. Never touched the others so I don't know how good they are in comparison.

Anyways the overview with him was that he was from Newfoundland and Labrador and worked at a Deli called the Ice Cabbage with his father. Somehow he ended up winning a trip to the island despite never having entered but was forced to go anyway. Made the best of it, was a selfish shit and would fight anyone who tried to claim a jewel rock. Because apparently Fossil Island was loaded with infinitely respawning gemstones. If he was going to be stuck here may as well be rich doing it.

He's changed over time, became nicer but would still fight you for the gem rocks by sicking his dinosaurs at you. Not much else due to it being another novelization thought in terms of story.

Rune and his friends (Dragon Quest 9):

Now him and his friends are a doozy. They all were part of the novelization trend true but because they were create-a-characters it worked out so much better. Technically Fossil Fighters and Pokemon are also create-a-character games (sort of for the first Fossil Fighters) but shhhhhhh.

For a quick recap of DQ9 you play as an angel who fell down to the planet after something shook the observatory all the angels live on. Your job after a bit is to recover golden wish granting figs. Shit happens of course.

Now in DQ9 it was obviously a prototype game on the DS for what would become DQ10, a Japanese exclusive MMO for PC. But enough of that history back to the characters. The 4 are down below before going back to your regularly scheduled oc dust off.

Rune was more or less naïve but that's because he literally fell from the sky and doesn't know squat about mortal customs. After some evens he makes it to the next big town Stornway, which is where you can recruit party members. Which, here they are:

Dawn (Priest): She was a priest at the local church who mainly wanted to go adventuring or at least see the world and help others. She was recruited and became the first party member of the 4 person group. Uses a wand to help boost her MP and healing spells. Game wise she was heal bot but it was fine since they don't tend to have high attack stats anyway.

Garth (Warrior): He was give or take a no nonsense mercenary who really just needed a job. Garth come on willingly since at the time Stornway was dealing with a Black Knight problem and he could get some cash out of it and stayed after the fight. His secret vice is that he is drawn to cursed items and will wear them by any means necessary even if wearing a cursed item can cause you to lose a turn. Garth disliked Ivy, the thief of the party but grew used to her as a friend. Uses a spear in combat, mainly because replaying the game so many times I've done two sword users so figured to mix it up a bit.

Ivy (Thief): Out of all the party members Ivy was out for herself first and foremost. She didn't care about the others and wanted things to acquire. She mostly stayed both because Rune was an anomaly to her and because she wanted to know more about him. Her biggest secret is that she can see ghosts and other such creatures, which ended up being something the rest of the party find out pretty quickly. Uses big fuck off claws because I thought that weapon type was just fun to envision using. Also the super technique is call Hand of God that's just epic.

Fun fact they were also part of a mental sequel involving DQ11 but I'd have to replay the game nowadays to even remember the basic plot beats of the game.

Now that that's over for those 4 now it is time for the ones that I had the most connection with and the ones I actually attempted converting to the fantasy setting I'm working on before abandoning it due to complications. I don't even remember how many characters this series gave me so I'm just gonna go with the two that matter most, starting with:

Mazin Harvest (RWBY):

Oh boy where do I even fucking start with him? Besides the fact that he's a RWBY character of course and how he and his partner were the most detailed out of the rest.

Short end of it, he was a mess of a guy. Had a bloat of powers (though that mainly was because I was a fan of One Piece, specifically Zoro and an attack he gets later on, not to mention Asura's Wrath) that only got worse as the series went on. Went from moderately simple to overcomplicated.

To put it simply he, and by extension his family, was cursed. Which is already a weird thing to say in a setting where magic doesn't 'exist' (it did before 1000s of years ago when the Gods of that setting killed every human for attempting to rebel and now no one besides one immortal who becomes the villain has magic) but it made sense at the time. The curse meant that when they became too powerful they became manifestations of whatever their power was, only berserk and barely able to tell friend from foe. His family line could control it to an extent though said manifestations were also emotion based depending on their power and personality. It's a whole ass thing that I regret making overcomplicated or even just not refining it as time went on.

So as a result his curse his Semblance (which was an exclusive ability everyone had a unique version of) was clouds. Since his name meant clouds he got abilities relating to them. Though with how I was using them you'd never be able to tell. Used them mainly for manifesting more limbs and such but eventually used them to boost himself higher into the air. Had a ton of different weapons too since that was a core thing about the series but again, too many ideas and no commitment to any of them.

Personality wise he was a fighting savant. Was good with fights not so much with the smarts, though he does get his moments every now and then. Willing to go far for his friends and while was good leaning isn't afraid to commit a crime or two if it meant doing good.

Fuck talking about him takes be back during my teens. Now for the more sane character between the two and honestly arguably the one I actually preferred thinking about before the interest fizzled out.

Maple (RWBY):

She was what you'd call a Faunus, which were animal people that never really had many animal features. Seriously the setting rules made it so that they could only have one visible animal trait. Most of the time it was either ears or a tail. She was a fox one and had little ears on her head.

In any case she was the opposite to Mazin in every way. Was still a good fighter but not as good as he was. Smarter than he was but unlike him, wasn't good with people. Kept to herself and truly trusted him above most people. Helped that she was homeless and he helped her out and went out of his way at every point to be with her. So she's loyal to him.

Power wise I had the most fun with her Semblance, mainly because it was an interesting concept: If every Semblance is a reflection of the person who owns it and is unique to the soul of each person, what does that say about someone who's ability is to mirror the soul and copy them? So her ability was Mirror, able to copy the Semblance of anyone she touches. For a few minutes at a time, lasting longer depending on her bond with the other person. Mazin's of course lasted the longest.

Her weapon was also fun since I liked using unique weapons. Hers was a monk spade, with an equally large spade part made for slashing attacks. The crescent moon part was for counters and would detach in the middle to be able to be duel-wielded. Because this is RWBY however, the big spade part would detach again to become two more blades that also functioned as sub machine guns. Because almost everything is part gun in this setting.

So yeah that's all of the ones I can remember off the top of my head! Out of all of them I'd like to transfer Mazin and Maple over to the fantasy setting that's being worked on but trying to ground them (mostly Mazin because he's an overcomplicated bastard of my own doing) is tricky. Maple is slightly easier but since its likely a type of magic why would you ever want to copy someone else's magic when you could just be multifaceted and do it yourself?

I'm not in a rush regardless and I already need to work on making stories for others before I even think about making more ocs.

But yeah if there's more that I can remember then this might just reblogged with another section down below. Even if it'd mainly be RWBY characters because dammit that series had a vice grip on me at that time of my life.

[xarrixii]

Chapter_32 : "Pickup" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CW: previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▼

Harlow set his head where the horn for the steering wheel should’ve been, taking a deep breath, one hand on the wheel and the other on the keys he had yet to turn.

It’d been his idea to remove the horn in the first place to prevent Raiden’s road raging, but the lack of the horn made sitting and thinking about things just a little bit easier.

The idea was simple—Raiden’s smart enough to break out of any low-priority area they may have been put in. Harlow wants to feel like he’s looking for them if they’re out there somewhere, and someone needs to drive Raiden’s truck.

It was part of the reason Raiden was gone anyway.

He lifted his head and decided to start it up, backing the thing out.

As long as the truck was back in the lot by the time Raiden’s dad returned home from work, everything should be fine. As long as Raiden came back with him, safe and laughing.

Harlow paused, gripping onto the wheel harder than before. That’s not a life he has to worry about anymore.

Driving down the street was remarkably boring without them there. It was also proving exceptionally more difficult than he’d realized to pay attention to the people on the sidewalks and the road at the same time. It was probably a skill Raiden picked up from racing along the way, but it still hurt all the same. To know he just might miss them, when they’re standing right there.

It’ll be fine, Harlow told himself. Just keep the window open. Raiden would recognize their truck anywhere.

He had to remind himself to actually roll down the window a good thirty seconds later.

All those facilities uncovered, and Cinder couldn’t raid any. He knew why, if they went too fast Storm would just pack up and leave it all behind. It just hurt, knowing that the best chances were fucking in front of him and he couldn’t—couldn’t do anything.

In truth, he’d run off. He couldn’t keep sitting still, he had to do something.

Harlow slammed on the breaks once he realized he was passing by the deli the server data from the bowling alley had uncovered. He was way, way further out than he should’ve been.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Raiden could’ve been anywhere in the past—Harlow had to check the time—hour. He hadn’t been paying attention for an hour.

Imagining Raiden laughing, saying, “It’s a marvel the truck’s still in one piece,” was the only thing he could think of for a long moment.

“And that no one’s hurt,” Harlow mumbled to himself, parking the truck to the side. Liam would kill him if he went in that deli and started poking around. And if he missed Raiden somewhere along the road, didn’t hear them yelling “Hey, that’s my truck!”⸺

He swallowed the lump in his throat and rounded an entire block to turn around and start searching, again.

next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▲ missing a content warning? let me know

story slows down a lot soon, and for those who let a small detail fall through the cracks, i've got you:

q: "it was part of the reason raiden was gone anyway"? as amaterasu mentioned in chapter two “the hundred thousand you owe me. that’s what it cost to get an identical truck and cover up your little incident. you don’t have it, then?” the incident that got these silly guys into cinder never really comes up again in my mental plan for this story, so it didn't seem necessary to mention a bunch of times. i did feel, though, that i should circle back around at least once.

[shield-maiden-of-sherwood]

A Dream Deferred - A Short Story

Summary:

A chorus of crickets fills the night air as Abby trudges through her New York apartment. Little does she know that a fateful encounter with Pete, an aspiring actor, will challenge her pessimistic view of the world and open her up to something new. Yet when success follows Pete, Abby's envy threatens to destroy what could have been. A story of envy, fragility, and hope, this tale will leave readers wanting more.

Part 1 - Not Ideal

The subway rattles and clangs as it speeds down the rail. The sickly fluorescent lighting hurts my already tired eyes, but I continue looking down at my phone anyway as my music plays in my earbuds.

It wasn't exactly ideal given that my head hurt as though somebody had hit me with a sledgehammer, but what are you gonna do? You make do. At 5 AM, I was on my way home from yet another late shift at the Old Tar Bar where I worked as a bartender. Another situation that wasn't ideal. I had no idea why the place was called "Old Tar" and quite honestly, I didn't care to find out. It was only a necessary evil. Bartending at night gave me the freedom during the day to work on my life's work. Like many of my fellow delusional creatives, when I had money, I packed up my stuff and moved across the country, leaving the comfort, or I guess lack thereof, of my home in Colorado for the bright lights and dirty streets of New York in hopes of making a name for myself as a writer.

Listen, I wasn't entirely delusional. I wasn't expecting to become an instant success or anything. I know better. But did I want to strike it big like Stephen King and write something so good that it was made into movies or a tv show? Of course. Did I think I would become famous and rich beyond my wildest dreams? Probably not but you can bet your ass I would try. 

Like the others, when I first arrived in New York, I found the cheapest studio apartment I could find. It wasn't easy and, if I'm quite honest, I'm not even sure how I found the antique building tucked away behind some Russian deli place that always reeked of salami. It wasn't the most glamorous place but I knew that this was the way to do it; Pay my dues and all that shit. Apparently, this place was practically a right of passage for new transients looking to make it big as each apartment was filled with some other young, and some not-so-young, hopefuls.

Each floor has about twelve inhabitants, with six on either side of the ancient stairwell separating them, and a bathroom on either side, with each side sharing one bathroom. Each floor, I found, contains different types of hopefuls. On my floor, there are two musicians, three actors, one makeup artist, and another writer. My side of the floor consists only of an annoying actor by the name of Pete and the makeup artist, Yuri. Yuri isn't too bad. Like the rest of us, she holds down a daytime job while honing her craft after work, and taking up random gigs on her weekends to gain experience. She works at some big-name makeup store, giving makeovers to tweens and Karens, but I can't remember which one. 

Shortly after I had moved in, we ran into each other in the cramped mailroom on the ground floor at the entrance. I was struggling to open my mailbox with the shitty key the landlord had left in a stained envelope tucked under my apartment door. She came over and showed me the stupid little key jiggle I had to do to get the key to cooperate. Long story short, we got to talking and she invited me over for coffee.

Our other neighbor, Pete, was a bit more of a nuisance with his frequent visitors occupying our only bathroom every morning, usually hungover. It was usually this time I would be impatiently waiting outside the bathroom door with my toiletries, anxiously glancing at the time on my phone while he would saunter out of his apartment, hair askew and wearing nothing but some worn plaid boxers and a lazily tied bathrobe, as he went to check the mail. He'd return as his guest exited the bathroom, clutching her various items to her chest as she muttered an apology before scuttling past me. They never returned to his apartment, as he would head back inside and shut the door behind him with little regard for anybody else. When Pete wasn't out auditioning for various minor roles or out prowling the night clubs for new "talent" (as he so charmingly referred to them), he was a waiter. He wasn't a good one, however. By the time I moved into the building, he had already been fired six times from various restaurants across the city. How he kept getting hired was beyond me.

The rocking of the subway makes my eyelids feel heavy, but I try my best to remain awake. Though I am the only one in the car, I have learned early on that it is always wise to stay awake, especially when traveling alone. You never know when somebody else might suddenly appear and catch you unawares. That has happened once, but I don't care to talk about it, and we'll leave it at that – just don't.

Luckily, we slow as we reach my stop. With a sigh, I rise from my seat and wait as the doors slide open before making my way back up to the surface. I am lucky, I guess. The subway station is a block away from my building, which is good since my legs are killing me, as they always do when I stand around for hours on end, listening to the drunken mumbles and stories of regrets and lost loves that frequently come with a couple of drinks in a dimly lit bar. 

The door to the building, a thick, antique-looking thing, creaks loudly as the old hinges protest. During my short walk from the subway, I think about checking my mail, but my body seems to be on autopilot as I trudge past the wall of mailboxes and up the stairs. Like the others on my floor, my apartment is very modest with a large, single room. As it's just me, I don't have any issues with it. In fact, I think it's easier since everything is close by. My full-sized bed, which I got from a Facebook marketplace ad for a cheap twenty dollars, sits against one wall, opposite my small kitchenette. In between the kitchen and what I guess you could call my "bedroom" is a threadbare sofa that I found on the curb the day I moved in. It served as my bed for the first month, but after waking up sore and feeling bruised every day, I paid the twenty and got some sheets and blankets from a nearby secondhand shop. It's not much, but it's home.

I once read that "inconsistency is a writer's greatest enemy". They explained to me that, like for athletes, the brain was a muscle, and like with any muscle, it needed to be worked otherwise it would atrophy. Because of this, every night, no matter how tired I was when I got home, I brewed some coffee, sat on my couch, and wrote as much as I could before I was no longer able to keep my eyes open. With money being tight, I couldn't afford a TV. At least, not if I wanted to be able to eat. I tried to tell myself that it would only be a distraction anyways.

When I left Colorado, I had been living with my mother recently. She had a habit of disappearing for days, sometimes weeks or months, leaving me to my own devices. Most of the time she'd be out with one of her poor choices of men, but she somehow convinced them to pay for our streaming services even though she was never home to watch them. I guess she figured that if she was going to be absent, I should at least have something to entertain me. She didn't count on not paying her electric bill and rendering the service basically useless. Once the electricity was shut off, I gathered the little money I had saved from my old part-time job after school and occasional babysitting gigs, then I quickly left. Now, I have only my writing and streaming platform on my phone to entertain me.

As I climb the stairs, I'm so exhausted that I don't even notice the light above flickering as it usually does. It's that type of tiredness where nothing seems real and time seems to stand still. This time, as I trudge through the door to my half-empty apartment, I don't even bother taking my earbuds out of my ears before flopping face down onto my bed, and I pass out immediately. So much for exercising my brain.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

[equalseleventhirds]

more than 5 ppl liked this post so welcome, i am here to be Annoying

(i still haven't finished s2, bcos other things have captured my time and attention. like going to work. and designing games in my head but never writing them down. and reading manga online. and trying to get every outfit in totk. last night i ate a box of mixed deli meat bits bcos it was on sale. i have a rich & interesting life, u see.)

anyway.

here is Some Parts Of Good Omens Season Two As It Could Have Been In My Head Based On Bookverse Instead Of On Season One, Sort Of (except we keeps some bits, like gabriel's existence, bcos otherwise it gets too complicated. but like, in mood it is based on bookverse. u get it.)

the very very strong opening scene that i've got in my head goes like this:

gabriel wandering around outside as per the show. people perhaps are rubbernecking and giggling, but also, i think it's funnier if most ppl are doing their best to mind their own business. this is supposed to be london (with aziraphale's burning bookshop gaining a gaggle of interesting soho night people, not interested. funnier!)

he stops to stare with vague, affable interest at some sign or decoration or whatever. somethign depicting angels or demons, maybe some form of beelzebub, maybe something to do with the ressurrectionist.

linger on that for a long moment, as a distant whirring sound gets louder and louder.

cut to: nina on a bicycle, muttering under her breath about something that's annoyed her. customers. her partner. something. from her pov, she's going down a hill, street remarkably clear, and vaguely in her very-much-ignored peripheral we see gabriel from the back. and in her peripheral he shrugs, straightens up a bit, and turns to walk into the street with a big, vague smile.

and is promptly hit by her bike.

yes we're paralleling the anathema bike scene with crowley & az. yes it has to be nina, bcos maggie comes into this another way.

and only after this can we cut to crowley and aziraphale and whatever they're up to.

now, crowley and aziraphale were not fired and cast out of heaven and hell to earth or whatever in the book. both sides have a wavering of their Certainty About The Plan (bcos god is ineffable and, notably, silent) and wander off to have a think, wait to see what happens, and pretend very very hard that None Of This Mess Ever Happened, What Are You Talking About.

which means that in my version of this story, crowley and aziraphale are still ostensibly doing their jobs (as much as they ever do). but, to bring shaz and muriel back into this, bcos i do like them, let's say that heaven and hell are still kind of miffed and suspicious of c&a, so they send shaz and muriel to watch them.

now the easiest way to establish this is to put all four of them in one place (shaz and muriel watching crowley and aziraphale). we could do the duck pond, or the ritz, or any other clandestine meeting place. or have individual meetings again; i do think it's funnier if muriel and shaz are still very unfamiliar with earth and crowley and aziraphale keep trying to casually drop them corrections about things. comedy etc. i am not particularly bothered abt these meetings. perhaps shaz or muriel or both accidentally let on that something big and terrible is happening in heaven, but clam up about what, exactly, it is. worried glances etc.

let's do maggie now. maggie shouldn't be renting from aziraphale at all. come on. he probably still buys records from her.....actually, no. crowley buys records from her. and she probably says something to him about going out of business, and he shrugs and says well, that's life, and pushes up his sunglasses and leaves. and then a little while later, some astoundingly wealthy record collector stops by her shop and happens to find an incredibly rare and valuable record, or a rich relative she didn't know about dies and leaves her a fortune, or some weird mobsters come around and tell her landlord to keep the shop open or else. some wild miracle happenstance.

aziraphale teases crowley about this. crowley grumps about how he doesn't want to go to the trouble of finding a new record shop. aziraphale points out that the bentley plays cassettes, and crowley says yeah, but he got this record player not even 50 years ago, he has to use it, and anyway he had a hand in this new 'streaming music' business and he's got to have backups at home for whenever there's an issue there. aziraphale asks him pointedly about ebooks.

nina lets gabriel into her coffee shop to patch him up and check if he's okay. it is not across from aziraphale and maggie. she doesn't encounter aziraphale or crowley at all yet, that can't happen until later. the fly buzzes around the coffee shop, gabriel is incredibly vague, nina, in frustration, names him jim, puts a bandaid on him and makes sure he's okay (he is weirdly okay but she brushes it off), puts him in cargo pants and flannel, and, somewhat worried but aware that she can't do much else for him, lets him leave, as he feels like he has something important to do. the box is left in a corner of the shop.

meanwhile maggie gets a record back from the ressurectionist that has transformed, puts it away in a drawer somewhere with many other copies, and goes across town to her favorite coffee shop (nina's) to have coffee. she passes by gabriel on her way. she sits in a corner table and notices the empty box, but doesn't say anything about it, absolutely not.

...i'd quite like another minor plotline to cause the power outage, but there are no more really noticeable human characters from s2 and no more side supernatural characters i can put with them. could make some up but i suppose the next best option is for gabriel to have an encounter with a new human as he's wandering, and to very absent-mindedly, not even noticing what he's doing, perform a miracle. which shorts out the power on the whole street and locks nina and maggie in the coffee shop.

at which point alarms go off in heaven and hell, altho they can't quite pinpoint where gabriel is. crowley and aziraphale, still working for their respective bosses (ostensibly) get the alert, turn, look at each other, and go 'gabriel?'

which seems a good way to end episode 1 probably

........and frankly at this point this has turned into my own fanfiction, anyway i've put far too much time into this. time to go live my very interesting life (eat dinner and play more totk probably)

the more gomens2 i consume the stronger the urge grows to go 'if x event had happened in the bookverse it would've been y instead'

but that would be fun only for me and like, five select mutuals, and would simply torment everyone else and probably draw the ire of some fans. so i won't.

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶There was an obvious implication as to why Eddie would invite you to ring in the New Year with him. Even his friends knew it, leaving you two alone at the countdown to 1986. Would tonight be the night he finally kissed you?✶

NSFW — mechanic!eddie, fluff, flirting, being dumb teenagers young adults, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 8/15 [wc: 8.1k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 8: Midnight Sparks

You nestled deeper into your coat, and jogged to the door of Bradley’s Big Buy, wincing from the glare of the gray clouds reflected on the windows. The forecast said it was supposed to be sunny today.

————

It started with a weekly phone call like any other. You were huddled on your bed, face turned away from your roommate’s prying gaze. She sat at her study desk, cranking the timer you both used to keep things civil.

Whatever. What did she care if the line was busy, anyway? It’s not like she had a new boyfriend to call her after she was dumped two weeks ago.

“They give you a few days off, don’t they?” Eddie probed with a persuasive inflection at the end of his sentence. “C’mon, it’s New Years. Why don’t you swing by and pay a visit to your dear ol’ pal, Eddie?”

He was smirking like a villain, wasn’t he? So smug, so carefree. Cracking a smile to where his top lip met his cheek dimple, showing off the mischievous gleam on his canines. It’s just the worst expression. Detestable.

“Swing by?” you repeated incredulously. “In what world is a trip to see your sorry ass in Indiana ‘swinging by’?”

“I know you don’t have plans for New Year’s–”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do you have plans?”

“..No,” you admitted.

You could picture him with irritating clarity. How his raised eyebrows fell into diabolical slants, eyes crinkled at the corners, stupid grin deepening once he caught you; how he shrugged and clapped his hands when he assumed a pitying, pompous tone after sucking his teeth, “Well, I guess that settles it, then! You’re coming here to spend New Year’s Eve with us. I’ll make the trip worth it, I promise. Tons of fireworks, hanging out with the guys, and hey, I’ll even throw in the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of a private show of your favorite band, Corroded Coffin, up close and personal.” He paused to grant you the space for one sigh, then he sweetened the deal. “I’ll tune up your car for you.”

“For free?”

He laughed. “Free, but I do accept gifts and favors as a form of payment, my dear.”

“As humble as ever, I see,” you said, rather than commit to more. It was bad enough he had you wrapped around his finger, speaking gently into the phone snug against his mouth, dragging his lips over the plastic, invoking the tender side of him when trying to convince you to come see him. Where a subconscious sadness smoothed the sharp edges of his teasing.

Of course you wanted to see him again.. However, the traditional way of ringing in the New Year sat like a weight on your chest. The same creeping anxiety of knowing he’d ask you to come to Hawkins again, and the same dread of knowing nothing would come of it.

Unless..

It was finally your turn to be noticed.

“Fine, you’ve worn me down. I’ll come. But I’m not happy about it.” You’ve made worst decisions in your life.

————

And that’s the story of how a boy persuaded you into coming back to the small town you had no intention of returning to without a good reason.

Eyes adjusting to the dingy grocery store, you scanned the short aisles for anyone you recognized, and were relieved to see the place was rather empty, aside from the owner doing a crossword puzzle at the counter. You grabbed a hand basket and perused the cold section at the back. Subsisting on convenient snacks and coffee since you left campus, you were more than ready for one of the ready-made sandwiches in the deli section, and any piece of fresh fruit or vegetable you could find.

Reading over the flavors of Gatorade in the drink cooler, you grabbed one, dropped it in the basket on the floor and stood up, arguing in your head about if you should order take-out to be delivered for the group tonight, or wait and see if someone like Jeff was considerate enough to think of that ahead of time. All of this left you vulnerable to the looming presence behind you, who was bending to speak over your shoulder.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

You spun so fast, the creep’s lips brushed the shell of your ear. His warm breath fanned your neck. Flashes of walking to your dorm alone at night had you springing into action before a second thought crossed your mind.

At the front of the store, the owner looked up from his newspaper, peering over his glasses at your nuisance.

“Whoa, there,” Eddie laughed, tracing the corner of his mouth with his tongue, doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement amidst his surprise. He made a motion like he was going to cup his hands over your fists to ease you out of your defensive position, then thought better of it. He posed with his arms up like he was surrendering.

Still considering punching him, you released a seething exhale of, “Jesus Christ, Eddie–!”

“I guess that answers if you’re a ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ response type of person.”

Refraining from greeting him, you went straight to asking the one question he deserved, “I’ve been here for all of three minutes, how is it you always know where to find me? And don’t,” –You emphasized– “Don’t tell me that you just do.”

“It’s my special talent,” he answered like the bastard he was.

You should’ve punched him.

Taking a tiny step away, Eddie averted his attention around the store for a few vain seconds, then gave up, returning to you. He chewed the inside of his cheek in spite of his abundant grin growing under the shy once-over you gave him. “Almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, more blatant in his observations. Raking his gaze over the length of your body. Deliberate, and tenacious. Taking his time to absorb you as you stood before him. Stopping at details you could only guess at. Devouring you openly. Fearlessly involving his fingers on your suede sleeve, dragging his fingertips down to the fluffy cuff and curling them inward, admiring the softness brushing over his knuckles. He wasn’t touching you, really. “A Penny Lane jacket and flared jeans? Were you invited to some retro costume party I don’t know about, or something?”

You couldn’t discern if his pink cheeks were because of the harsh wind outside, or something else. “I think some old lady died, and I got her wardrobe at the thrift store.” Riding the high of his flattery, you crossed your ankles and spun on the soles of your chunky boots, sweeping your hands down your clothing. “An entire outfit for less than twenty bucks.”

“It looks good on you.” He said it in that lower register. Where his voice cracked in and out. Quiet. More akin to the guys who hit on you.

You thanked him by doing the silly thing of putting your hands in your pockets. Swaying side to side. Not awkward at all, and definitely not trying to hide your smile.

Clearly not in here to grab groceries, he tipped his head towards his van outside, and asked, “I’m making a trip outside city limits for the good fireworks. Wanna come with?”

“I’m sorry.” You wanted to go. Just to sit next to him. To steal more time with him. Listen to music, hang out, fill in the blanks phone conversations couldn’t do justice. Hear his voice in person again. Say things that earned his rolodex of smiles, or laughs. Find ways to garner more compliments, more affection. Yet, your body ached in a severe way you couldn’t ignore. “I’ve been driving since about 3 this morning, and I’m kinda tired. Is it okay if I take a nap and meet you later?”

He screwed his eyes shut and faltered. Shook his head, and scrunched his face in a pained expression, speaking as if he was the one in the wrong for asking in the first place, “Of course! Yeah. Yeah, you’ve been driving all night. You deserve to relax. I didn’t mean to just–Yeah. Anyway, when were you leaving? You here for a few days?” he ended in a hopeful lilt.

It sucked letting him down. “Sorry, I’ve gotta leave pretty early tomorrow. I have two assignments due the first Friday after break, and it’s competition season, so lots of meets now; pretty much every other weekend starting the second week of January.”

He moved further away. Absently reading the labels on the bags of chips while he sorted through whatever disappointment he harbored. Tapping his knuckle on an end cap for an aisle, staying in his thoughts. Using the cold metal to rein in his feelings about your short time together.

“I’m sorry, Eddie..”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. He donned a happy persona. “That just means we’ll have to make the most of tonight, right?”

“Right.” You hated his fake turn in attitude. It’s not like you wanted this shitty reality, either. The ones in your head were much more preferable. Much more romantic. “We’ll make some good memories to last us until next time.”

Usually, Eddie was easy to read. He shared his emotions openly. However, when he looked at you like he did now–skimming his gaze from your eyebrows to your nose, scoping out the kindness of your glossy lips–you had to wonder what he was thinking, and if he was observing you with curiosity, or something sweeter. Please be sweeter.

“We will,” he promised. “We’ll go out with a bang, sweetheart.”

In a phenomenal execution of decorum, you did not, indeed, choke on your spit at his word choice.

~~~

The receipt with Eddie’s handwriting on the back waved between your fingers. You drove away from the corner unit of the Motel 6 with your windows rolled down, enjoying the sunshine. It almost didn’t feel like winter with how it warmed up while you laid in bed, replaying the scene of your best friend tilting his head to check out your tight fitting jeans when you bent over to pick your grocery basket off the floor.

Someone should’ve told him the door to the drink cooler was quite reflective.

Still, you had to question why he would bother giving you Gareth’s address when he could’ve simply told you it was the nicer subdivision on the north side of town you both ransacked during Halloween. From there, it was painfully obvious which house he was talking about.

Low-tuned sludgy riffs of doom metal called out to you from the main road. It was just Lloyd on bass and Jeff on guitar playing together while Eddie had the back doors of his van open, helping Gareth slide out sheets of plywood and stack them in the dead grass.

You pulled into the driveway and Eddie waved at you to park behind him.

“There she is,” he announced over the music. Interestingly, he dropped the pet names around his friends, but Gareth gave you two a sneaky glance, regardless. “Running me low on daylight after begging me to fix her car.”

Mouth agape, you filled your lungs to the fullest with an absolute dissertation’s amount of rebuttal, but your fortitude vanished. The bane of your existence eclipsed the sun.

Eddie folded his arms atop your open window, leaning onto your car door, kicking his hip out, regarding you down his broad nose.

Music faded out one strum at a time. The guys crowded the back of the garage, hooking up extension cords to Eddie’s power tools, and carried them to the saw horses they had set up, keeping themselves busy and at a distance.

Eddie’s hair fell over his shoulders. He provoked you in a softer voice, “What’s my payment for doing this kind gesture for you, hmm?” The tendons in his neck flexed as he hummed.

The smallest muscle in his cheek twitched the longer you schooled your face from reacting. Giving him nothing to work with, leaving him to guess if he was being annoying in the wrong way. Making him sweat under the heat of his innuendo.

If only he knew you’d be on your knees the split second he gave the command.

But, you remained strong in the face of temptations, and opened the door, shoving him back a few steps. “Have I ever told you I hate you?”

“Once or twice,” he said after feigning to think about it.

“And to answer you..” You kicked the door closed behind you, and drew yourself to your full height as if you were in front of suited up judges. Chin high, shoulders back. Taller in your boots. Meeting his eye easily. An intimidating strength to your intense demeanor. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Both a gift and a favor. His gift. His favor. His girl.

Eddie snorted. “How could I forget? Your presence is my greatest treasure.”

You tipped your cheek to your shoulder as you considered him. “I’m your greatest treasure?” His brashness deflated upon hearing you repeat it back at him. Your eyes narrowed wickedly while his widened. “I seem to remember you saying you’d take care of me if I came back.”

For a blissful beat, memories of that first phone call passed over his unfocused gaze. You, too, unlocked a few repressed images you swore you wouldn’t release when he was standing right in front of you; fully clothed, and very handsome.

Then, Eddie stuttered something, but there was no telling what, because Jeff started up the whirring circular saw with a smile of pure innocence. “Oh, did I interrupt you guys? My bad.”

You threw him a sardonic smile, and addressed your flustered mechanic. “Shall we?”

It seemed Eddie struggled to move past your tongue-in-cheek proposition. Either that, or something else had his mind scrambled. “Uh, y-yeah,” he stammered, tripping over his own feet, making finger guns at his van where he left his tool bag. “We should. Y’know, daylight.” You agreed and tossed him your keys.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Lloyd exchanged knowing looks with Jeff and Gareth, who both shook their heads and rolled their eyes.

~~~

Some favor this turned out to be.

“How long has it been making that sound?” Eddie asked from the driver’s seat, aghast.

You shrugged at the exposed engine cranking and churning out a sound not unlike a dead man’s cough. “I dunno. Maybe a month? No.. Two, or three?”

“Babe,” he groaned to himself, thumping his head on the headrest. He ran his hands over the leather steering wheel, wringing the vibrations under his palms, listening to the racket. Stewing over his knee-jerk reaction to shake you until you promised to maintain your only means of transportation which brought you to him today. What if it broke down and you were stranded in some seedy city where someone could take advantage of you?

Working his jaw, he turned off the car and unfolded himself from your cramped seat.

Inside the back of his van, he collected a few replacements for parts he could tell were worn, and put them near the edge. “Have you changed the air filters lately?” You blinked up at him. He added new ones to the pile and hopped down.

“Do I want to know when was the last time you got an oil change?”

You crossed your arms and leaned your hip against the car, keen to the way he went into his zone, moving with skill over the motor in a predetermined method–an order to his operations. “You changed it for my mom the summer before I left, didn’t you?” He paused with the dipstick in his hand, brown eyes pinning you with glints of mortification, and disbelief. “Eddie, I’m kidding..” He wiped it on the dirty rag balled in his fist and his expression foretold the scolding you were about to get. “I got it changed like a year ago.” More angry staring. “Maybe it was two years ago,” you amended.

He added another task to his mental list. “You’re sending me to an early grave.”

Gareth began sawing pieces of 2x4s after Jeff measured them. The noise covered your private moment with Eddie.

Angling your head under the popped hood, you gut-punched him with a poignant truth he despised about himself. “Joke about an early grave all you want, I think you like doing this stuff for me because it makes you feel needed. Now that I’m away at college, you can’t just come over and fix a leak in my roof, or patch up a hole in the drywall, or pick me up from work when I’m too tired to drive.” Your gaze settled on his frown. “I appreciate you fixing my car, but I don’t want it to come across like that’s the only reason I’m here. You don’t need to do these things for me to come see you. I’m here because I like being with you. You’re my best friend, Eddie.”

You're my best friend, Eddie.

He invoked every fiber of self-restraint woven into his musculature to not look at you. “Do you have a hair tie?”

“Sure.” You took one from your wrist and handed it to him. Adding to your previous point, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel needed–”

“What, did you smoke a joint and read your psychology textbook before coming here? Be a doll and hold this for me.” He slipped out of his jacket, and tossed it at you. From his periphery he watched you clutch it to your chest, and in that moment–when your fingers curled around the collar, and your arms embraced his armor like a hug–he decided enough was enough. Tonight was the night.

~~~

Crossing your legs at the ankle, you sat back against the car door. A fine vantage point for pretending you were observing the guy's build.. whatever it was they were building, while your eyes fell to Eddie more often than not. Noticing him gather his hair at his nape and wrap the hair tie around it several times, not pulling through on the last loop, thus allowing it to fan out from a bun in springy waves. The rest of his short layers sat over his ears, catching the wind when he whipped around to seize a car part from his stash. Probably salvaged from the junkyard you played in as kids; a place you owed many of your scars to.

The shirt he wore was for a local band in Indy. Their name strained over his full chest, white letters stretching and bunching as he employed his skilled hands over your motor. A remarkably snug fit on him. Tight. Formed to the curves of his body. Capped sleeves stopping at the apex of his shoulders. Sharp cut of his tricep contouring an elegant shadow from one tattoo to the next, black ink flexing as he cranked a wrench.

Loose strands of hair clung to the sheen on his neck.

Black leather baked in your arms under the setting sun, intensifying the cheap cologne he doused to disguise the layers of weed and cigarette smoke, accompanied by the same deodorant that was on his Hellfire shirt.

The peppered stubble on his jaw. His shaved mustache. Smudges of grease in the hollow of his cheek as he chewed on another complaint in your direction. Mouth twisted to the side in concentration, until his tongue involved itself, parting his lips.

His tongue was a dangerous thing to be jealous of, yet here you were, fawning over its ability to be intimate with his mouth, his lips. Oh yes, his lips. How many hours you wasted of your adult life being stuck in boring lectures delivered by droning professors while you were thinking about his lips framing your name in the warmest of manners.

Eddie was stunning. Dirty, and stunning. Sweaty from being the gentleman he was, giving you a hand in one of the areas of your life you neglected, and he was in dire need of someone to clean him off. Someone whose fingers were as kind as yours to treat the scope of his understated beauty.

Someone to bathe him after a long day.

Get him nice and clean.

Then dirty again.

His hips were pressed to the red metal of your car. Tight jeans showing each thrust he made as he yanked on something out of your view. Handcuff belt buckle clinking every so often. Shirt wrinkled over the pudge on his stomach, and you couldn’t fathom a better place to land a few kisses on your way down to his–

“You like watching me work?” he asked plainly, bent over the headlight closest to you, eyes affixed on his project.

You jerked as if you snapped awake from a dream, and asked the guys crowding around the saw horses, “Hey, whatcha makin’? Can I help?” Apparently, Gareth and Jeff were laboring over a quarterpipe, and Lloyd was making a wide ramp. Why he specified wide, you didn’t know, but it was the perfect excuse to get the hell away from Eddie.

It was too real being next to him in person, and you needed a break.

Your swanky Penny Lane coat proved too insulating on the unusually balmy winter afternoon, so you unclasped the ornate button and draped it over your car door, revealing your cherry red blouse and silk scarf tied around your neck.

As you placed Eddie’s jacket alongside yours, something fell out of his pocket. You picked up the white and red package and turned it over. Wrigley’s Spearmint. It was missing a few foil-wrapped sticks of gum. Thinking nothing of it, you put it back, and joined Lloyd.

“What should I do?”

“Did you just time travel from a Hendrix show?” Jeff asked, earning your middle finger.

Lloyd instructed you where to hold the boards he was cutting, and revved the jigsaw. Wood shavings rained in its wake.

A cacophony of buzzing drowned out further conversation. Saws, drills, and a stream of swears filled the lull of the drifting creeping sunset.

Gareth looked around him for the nail gun, and realized he left it in the van. He told Jeff to keep his weight on the curved plywood. “I’ll get it.” And what a poor sight he stumbled upon. He could almost feel his heartstrings tug for his friend’s transparent pining. Almost.

Gareth’s saunter took on a swagger as he approached Eddie, and clapped him on the shoulder, shocking him from his awestruck daze. “Might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.”

Eddie was quick to close his mouth, and go to work with his back facing you. So what if your scarf was cute. And your blouse hugged you in all the right places. And the color complemented you. And the space between the buttons gapped. And your bra was white. And he could admire your jeans without your coat blocking the view. He was allowed to appreciate these things on a platonic level. He was a respectable young man, after all.

Besides, he was well within his right to stare.. from beneath your car after jacking it up, laying on his back, sliding under the engine on a creeper board with a wrench in his hand to do.. something. He forgot.

How was he supposed to concentrate when he’d been deprived of touch for so long he found his chest tensing, and his throat closing, at the memory of his lips grazing your ear at the grocery store, and how if he kept his face there, your lips would’ve connected with his when you turned?

~~~

Daylight burned to dusk.

The quarterpipe sat in the middle of the road opposite the ramp. No one else seemed to care if cars could pass by, so you didn’t either.

Eddie dug his heels into the driveway and wheeled himself back and forth on the roller board, face turned to scrutinize what you were doing instead of minding his own business; and you’d know, because this was hardly the first time your gazes met, and you both looked away as if it never happened.

Though, an unexpected object entered your field of view, anyway.

“A shopping cart?” you questioned. Jeff nodded enthusiastically on his way to the quarterpipe, hauling it to the top. Surely they weren’t planning on..

Gareth’s eyes shone with teenage madness. “You wanna get the firecrackers? We need to christen the cart.”

“Sure..” you drawled. Silly you for assuming the overturned hunk of dented metal in the neighbor’s ditch was discarded trash and not some prized possession.

You stepped over a pair of black jean-clad legs on your way to the back of Eddie’s van, and opened the doors wider, peering inside. It was much messier than last time you were in it. Blown out speakers, guitar cases, and the aforementioned scrounged up parts to extend your car’s life occupied most of the space, along with loose papers and textbooks for school. Near you, there were boxes upon boxes of fireworks. Way more than you thought necessary, but he did say he wanted to end 1985 with a bang.

Pulling one closer to you, you found the red packs of fireworks strung together like a bandolier, and grabbed several belts worth.

And, of course, when you turned around, you gasped and backed into the rear bumper.

Fluttering your eyes closed, you stated in an even tone, “If you scare me one more time.”

“Maybe you should pay more attention to your surroundings.” Eddie wrung a dirty rag around his stained fingers, hip cocked out. He jerked his chin at your car. “Almost done. Not as good as new, but in a lot better condition than when you drove here.”

“Thank you. You seriously didn’t have to go and do all of this for me.”

The harsh light coming from Gareth’s garage divided Eddie’s face in halves. He held his hands up to inspect the grime under his fingernails, and answered, “I did it for me, so I can rest easy knowing you’re safe.” A shadow concealed his mouth, but you were certain he wasn’t smiling. The serious knot between his brows, and the bluntness in his visible eye pierced the uprising of nighttime splitting you into two sides of the same friendship. What you showed each other and what you kept hidden in the dark. “What if something happened and you got hurt?”

Your forearm was alive with the sensation of his warmth penetrating the chill on your skin. “I don’t live a safe life. I could fall and snap my neck at any moment on the uneven bars. A single missed catch and I’m gone.” As you spoke, you swayed closer, taunting the electricity to spark between you. His chest swelled with a breath. He smelled of spearmint. “If you want to keep me out of harm’s way, you’ll have to do better than fix my car.”

A single firework in the distance struck the saturated sky. Then more. More bangs, squeals, children shouting in awe around the subdivision.

Eddie didn’t say anything else, so you didn’t either.

Eddie didn’t make a move, so you didn’t either.

The delicate paper crinkled in your hands. “Do you have a lighter on you?”

Roused from his trance, he pointed at his jacket hanging over your door. “In my..” He trailed off, hand lowering as something registered to him. “Actually, I think I have some matches on my dash.”

It was a weird moment–the whole exchange, the awkward faltering–but you found the worn paper package on his dashboard, and joined the others, avoiding giving a side-long glance at Eddie, who involved himself in the finishing touches on your car.

The guys became more psyched up when you handed them the goodies. They tangled the fireworks around the handle of the shopping cart balanced precariously at the top of the quarterpipe, and Jeff propped his foot on one of the wheels, while Gareth climbed into the basket.

Jeff raised a single match and aligned it on the strike strip. “We hereby commence tonight’s festivities! Let the new year bring forth joy!” He looked at Gareth, then Lloyd. “Prosperity!” He spun to you, a certain glint of glee when his eyes landed on yours, then somewhere behind you. “And love,” he finished, lighting the match with flair.

It burned bright.

Flame to fuse, sparks flew.

Before even the first firecracker popped, the cart was wrangled, and Jeff was in motion. Shoving it over the edge, putting power behind his sprint as it sped down the slope. He let go. Gareth gripped the sides and whooped as he approached the wide ramp at max speed. It hit the incline, and together, they flew–at least, they gave the impression of flying right before they smacked the pavement. Bouncing, clanging, almost tipping nose-first, and recovering at the last second, skidding to a halt upright and uninjured.

The firecrackers burnt out their last bang, and fell to the road in dwindling flames.

Lloyd cruised alongside the chaos on his skateboard, and gave a hearty, “Hell yeah!” Gareth appeared a little shaken, but otherwise fine.

“Is the ramp okay?”

Relaxing from your wince, you peeped an eye open to confirm it did remain in one piece.

“Nice!” Jeff said, kicking the support beam you screwed into place. “It held up. The other one cracked on the first run.” Apparently that was a win in their books.

Gareth rode the back of the shopping cart to its wobbly stop in front of you. “Wanna take it for a spin?” He swung his arm over the reckless vehicle, and towards the safety hazards you helped facilitate.

The quarterpipe suddenly seemed towering. Much taller than when it was being constructed.

You placed your hands in your back pockets, and conjured an excuse while shifting from foot to foot. “Interestingly enough, as a NCAA athlete, I signed a contract stating I would not partake in irresponsible behavior. You know, the usual stuff to prevent an injury before Nationals. No ice skating, no shenanigans, no horsing around, and..” You tsked. “Definitely no tomfoolery.” You served him a cheeky grin, oblivious to the unamused stare Eddie was giving you after your little speech earlier.

“C’mon,” Gareth appealed in an equally charming twang. He stamped the end of his skateboard and caught it in his hand, spinning it around to where the grip tape faced you. “How about we start with this on solid ground? You don’t have to be scared. I’ll teach you.”

Pursing your lips, you stalled.

“Don’t let him peer pressure you,” Eddie warned from your driver’s seat, about to put the key in the ignition. “Think about your future. You can’t compete with a broken wrist.”

A searing flash of anger struck your nerves. Somehow, when it was Eddie worrying over you, it was so much more irritating than being called scared. Like hell you were scared, and like hell you were going to get hurt. It was riding a fucking skateboard, not jumping through a flaming hoop. And how hard could it be? Balancing was sort of your thing.

You raised your eyebrows at Gareth, and shrugged. “Sure, yeah, teach me.”

The annoyed sigh behind you encouraged you all the more.

Eddie could suck a fat one. You wanted to have fun.

Gareth led you to the street, and gave you a rundown on where to put your feet, talking you through the process of transferring your weight through your stance, and to trust him. Jeff was nearby giving feedback, as well, and Lloyd dropped in from the quarterpipe to skate circles around you. They reassured you that everyone shook like a newborn deer when stepping onto the board for the first time.

Although Gareth was grasping you around your forearms, he felt too far away when the board creaked. You didn’t expect it to lurch forwards and back from how you stood on it sideways. In a blink, you grappled for his shoulders, snatching fistfuls of his gray hoodie and the collar of his flannel vest into your vice grip, panicking.

He laughed. “You’re good, you’re good.” Moving to where he was cupping the undersides of your elbows, he waited for you to regain your balance, and said, “Don’t look at your feet, it’s throwing you off.” You lifted your gaze to his face. His eyes were kinder up close. “We’re just gonna.. Yeah, like that.” Like a waltz.

Guiding you at the snail’s pace you were comfortable at, you discovered every ridge of every bump of every pebble stuck in every crack in the asphalt beneath the wheels. He eased you in a straight line. The pins on his flannel reflected the burst of bottle rockets being set off in the cul-de-sac.

Your concentration was dedicated to staying standing, but you were aware of the sound of your engine dying down, and a set of watchful eyes on the back of your head.

“Put your weight on your back foot. It’ll lift the front of the board, so you can steer yourself in a circle.” You listened, and did as he said, bringing the nose up in quick pops. It wasn’t quite a circle, but the guys were stoked for your progress.

“I’m doing it!” you said, conquering your fear with another tap, tap, tap of a circle. You didn’t have the hang of balancing in your shoulders yet, rather than your hips, but it was something. Tap, tap, tap. Braver. Bigger movements. Faster. He spun you faster. More weight on your back foot. Another circle. More weight. And then, pain.

“I’ll get it,” Jeff mumbled, running off in some direction.

“Hey, we got the first fall out of the way. Not so bad, right?”

You got too daring, it seemed, judging by Gareth’s surprised face hovering above yours, on account of you bringing him down with you.

You let go of him with an apology, but he kept his hold on you to make sure your head didn’t hit the pavement. He was about to ask if you were okay, and you were about to say your right ass cheek stung, however, an aura of told-you-so forced him to exit your immediate vicinity.

“Nope, we’re done with that,” Eddie enunciated through his teeth. He stuck his hand out with the intent to help you up, and you mirrored him. Yet. He hesitated. Imperceivable to his friends who won his affection easily, but to you, it was the longest split second decision you had the agony of enduring. Your hand was there. Right there, and he rejected it. He aimed for your wrist instead, clasping his washed fingers around your polyester sleeve, and he was wearing his jacket now. Even if you wanted to touch him, you couldn’t. He ensured you couldn’t. No contact. Ever.

It was starting to get old.

You accepted his offer, and voiced your exasperation, “Eddie, I fell like, two feet. I’m fine.”

“Fine? What if you twisted your ankle?”

Determined to keep him tethered to you, you locked his wrist into your hand’s dominant embrace, and stepped to him, speaking right above a tame whisper, “But I didn’t.”

“And what if you landed on your knee?” he asked, matching your low tone. He drew you closer. Not enough to be witnessed, but you were consumed by the discreet pressure of his frustration on your pulse. Thrilled by it, even.

“Ease up, man. Your girl survived the Great Skateboard Crash of 1985 without so much as a scratch.”

“I’m not his girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” Eddie reiterated at the expense of Jeff’s shit eating grin, refusing to break your eye contact. “She’s the thorn in my side.” He initiated letting go of you all too soon. This time, you were the one to pursue him.

Taking him by the upper arms, you sank your nails into his leather barrier, and teased your bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. “I think Eddie forgot how to have fun. Remember, Munson, we used to build ramps out of tossed construction materials propped onto deflated tires we found around the trailer park? How many times did we crash our bikes and almost knock our teeth out? By those standards, this is totally OSHA compliant. Live a little.”

“Yeah, Eddie, live a little,” Gareth snarked.

“He’s only this protective over you,” Lloyd observed with a note of mock hurt. “He doesn’t care if we get hurt.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie dismissed, fighting a smile. “I care if you can’t make it to Hellfire.” Earning a round of laughter, stress ebbed from his posture. His grumpiness melted under your firm palms pleading for him to relax.

With a voice overflowing with reluctance, he asked, ”You want a ride in the cart?” You nodded. “Get in.”

~~~

Besides being the one at the helm of your fate, Eddie had a few conditions: arms and legs must remain inside the vehicle at all times, no ramp, wear your coat, no ramp, don’t aim the Roman candle at his handsome face, and–most importantly–no ramp. And there you were, sitting in the basket of the shopping cart atop the quarterpipe’s platform, shoulders against the handlebar that Eddie gripped with white knuckles, twisting your head to smile up at him.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” he said.

You smiled bigger.

Eddie took a match from Jeff, and lit the top of the tube in your hand. “Any last words?”

“Just one,” you said, waving your middle finger.

Ever gentle, he shook the cart, scaring you into facing forward as he approached the edge. The fire spouting from your firework grew in fierceness. Blindingly bright, and hot as it crept down the tube. Eddie asked if you were ready, and the first ball shot out like a flare gun, hitting a tree branch in its path, before landing on a roof and fizzling out.

You’re convinced he didn’t wait for you to answer.

The front wheels crested the top of the quarterpipe. Completely vertical, your insides performed a somersault as the hard, unforgiving street below stretched on for eons; and then, it was gone. Replaced by the ache of your body being slammed against metal. A disorienting jumble of the firework’s floom as it went off beside your head, and Eddie’s cackling laugh reverberating between your ears.

You sailed past where the ramp used to be. Eddie was the captain of your ship. Running and hopping onto the back of the shopping cart. His hands gripped your shoulders, not the handle. His thumbs were everything you needed, prodding deep into your muscles. Fingertips perched on your collar bone. Exploring further down as the blur of houses came to a reasonable scroll when the fun slowed to a crawl.

“Satisfied?”

He wasn’t as close as he was in the grocery store, but you whipped your head around in hopes of catching a close look at his lips. It was worth it for his half-lidded eyes alone.

The last firework went off, illuminating his face in a lovely shade of red.

You said, “Let’s do it again.”

He said, “Absolutely not.”

~~~

The rest of the evening was much different from its rocky start.

Everyone was buzzing like bees. Playing music at random intervals, wrestling in the front yard, showing off their skate tricks. Demanding you do another backflip off the ramp, even though you did several already. Challenging you to arm wrestling matches on the hood of your car. Totally normal occurrences.

You clicked your tongue in a pitying gesture at Jeff. “Lost again.” He forked up another dollar by throwing it at you, muttering about how you must’ve cheated.

Later, minutes to midnight, it was almost as if they coordinated jamming together in the garage, only to make excuses to leave, right when you walked inside to tell them the rest of the fireworks were out of Eddie’s van.

“We’re gonna set those up!”

“Yeah, three heads are better than one.”

“Six hands are better than two!”

You had to wonder if they were always this ridiculous as they left you alone with Eddie in the most obvious way possible.

“Did you like that one?” he asked about the last song. His face was hidden behind the curtain of his hair, looking down at his guitar as he practiced a thrashy transition.

“Loved it.” And it was the whole truth spoken from the depths of your subconscious, where the sparks of old feelings resided, watching his mouth from afar, pressing his lips to the microphone as he spouted rather poetic lyrics about his brain being cracked open and spiders crawling out.

A smirk stretched his face. “Really?” He re-tuned the bottom strings of his guitar and turned a knob on his amp. “I figured you were more of this type.” Plucking a simple chord, he scrunched his nose, and oscillated the whammy bar while grooving on one of his pedals, acting like he was super into the psychedelic vibrato it created. “Something like that for, roughly, twenty-eight minutes while everyone is tripping on acid.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned. He was annoying, but back to normal. Chewing on another stick of gum, covered in dirt from pinning Jeff in the front yard earlier. Blades of dead grass tangled in his curls. And you immersed yourself in your role as well, dwelling over the physical pain of not being able to explore the intimacy of removing them. To become familiar with the feel of his scalp beneath your fingers. To understand the proximity of his face near yours without aversion. To know the taste of his minty gum on your tongue..

Something dawned on you.

Spearmint.

Chewing gum since this afternoon.

No lighter.

His prickliness when you crossed him.

He hadn’t smoked today.

He was chewing gum to curb his compulsion for a cigarette. No drinking, or other drugs, either. He cared to have minty breath. He wanted to be sober. He cared to have minty breath, and he wanted to be sober for midnight.

Maybe you were spiraling into territory you shouldn’t, but the implication was too tangible to argue against.

A midnight kiss.

It was impossible to keep the softness out of your tone, and the delicate flutter from tainting your words, but you held fast, “Wanna watch the fireworks together?”

He read his watch. “Yeah, it’s almost time.”

~~~

The stairs leading to Gareth’s front door were cozy. It was impossible to share them with another person without touching. You were surprised Eddie agreed to sit with you, molded to one another from hip, to the length of your thighs, pressed together in foreign inseparability. Hands, arms, and elbows were curled in tight, but your shoulders bumped on occasion. The guys had their backs to you, giving you privacy, while they tied the final fuses of illegally purchased fireworks together, running low on matches.

Now, the inky black night was constantly alight with an assortment of colors in a range of patterns.

The neighborhood was alive with a countdown.

Your heart was in your throat. Pounding beats in your temples. It was coming.

Three matches were struck and shared. The guys danced around the pile in the street, shouting and giggling, and retreating to the end of the driveway, away from danger. But not far enough to witness Eddie running his sweaty palms over his jeans.

You couldn’t discern the numbers being counted. Your senses dulled. Tunnel vision for the man beside you. Everything else faded away.

“One!” someone shouted over the dozens of screeching fireworks being set off at once.

Eddie didn’t make a move.

But you did.

Leaning over the appropriate amount necessary to be heard, you spoke into his ear, smitten by the fortuitous tickle of his hair brushing over your nose, “Looks like it’s officially your year.”

You must’ve taken him off-guard.

Initially, he jumped. Or shivered, you didn’t know. But when he turned to look at you, he slowed at the introduction of your cheeks sliding along one another as he drew away. Separating once the corner of your lips were at risk of converging. His stubble was scratchy. Your skin was soft. Who knew.

His gaze bounced around your candid expression. Memorizing your raw innocence at the newness of the sensation, like you memorized his. “Yeah, I’ll finally graduate,” he agreed. His exhale landed on your lips. A caress. Your body longed for more. Then, with absolute confidence, he declared, “After that, I’m gonna follow you everywhere.”

What?

You urged your attention away from his lips, to his shy, brown eyes seeking yours, resisting the impulse to look away.

He displayed his hope in the timid dimple emerging in his cheek. “I don’t think college is in my future, but I’m good at other things. Fixing cars, working with my hands, charming bar owners into giving me a gig. I..” His tongue paused on the tip of his teeth. Vulnerability whelmed him; mouth falling open and closed as he found an ounce of bravery. “Olympics.. The circus, whatever.. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. So we never have to be alone again. We’ll have each other. Be together..” His shaky whisper went faint as his nerves stole his voice. “You need a best friend to take care of you. To keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe.. Forever.”

He used the dreaded label–best friends–but this time.. It didn’t bother you.

He promised you forever.

Rendered speechless, you uttered the first thing that came to mind, expecting him to go along with the joke, as if he wasn’t serious. “The circus is a lot more dangerous than falling off a skateboard. I could get hurt.”

“Not if I’m there to catch you.”

Your chest caved under the impact of the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you. Fireworks burst in your stunned silence. Vision blurring with unadulterated happiness, managing a single, gravelly, “Okay,” amongst the content, and relieved, laugh you two shared, unsure of what this confession meant to either of you.

————

Jeff rapidly tapped the back of his hand on Lloyd’s chest. “I’m not wearing my glasses. Did they kiss?” he asked, excited.

Sighing, Lloyd let him down. “No.. But they do look happy.”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “How can they both be so stupid?”

————

Eddie knew he forfeited another chance at kissing you when he stopped leaning into your car, and wished you a safe drive, accepting the fact he wouldn’t see you again before you left. Your precious lips were right there, grinning at him with undue tenderness, eyes shining with an emotion he couldn’t place, but he couldn’t bring himself to risk it. Your futures were entwined now. He’d see you soon. Hopefully it wouldn’t take over three months for you to visit again, but he didn’t mind. It just meant more time for him to summon up the courage to almost, vaguely, in a roundabout way, with the caveat of being friends-only, sort of admit his feelings for you.

Still, he was proud of himself.

He wore his smile all the way home, putting a little pep in his step as he rushed up the stairs, and threw open the door to his trailer, scrambling for the pack of cigarettes and lighter he left on the kitchen counter.

Lord, he smoked through the first one in some kind of nicotine-induced euphoria.

He was in paradise. “Not if I’m there to catch you,” he mumbled to himself on his way to his room, swinging his arms, wholly intoxicated by his own charisma. “God, I’m corny.”

Tossing the carton of Camels on his nightstand, he went to put the lighter in his jacket pocket, and encountered what felt like wadded up papers stuffed inside. Pulling his hand out, he uncurled his fingers, and stared.

More hundred dollar bills than he’d ever had the pleasure of holding at once. A few twenties, too. Blood rushed to his cheeks. This was supposed to be a favor, and you snuck behind his back to pay him as if he were a real mechanic.. But that wasn’t the only thing that had his heart racing.

He flipped the accompanying Polaroid over.

The beach photo you promised. New Jersey 1985 written in the blank space at the bottom. More importantly, you in a bikini. Posed coyly with one arm crossed beneath your tits to create a gorgeous amount of cleavage, while staring into the camera with enough of a smirk to know what you were doing, while still being able to deny it.

After a beat, Eddie tipped his head and surrendered. He began unfastening his belt. “Great way to end the night, sweetheart.”

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[jerzwriter]

The Big Secret

Book:                   Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline)

Pairing:                Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey MacTavish)

Rating:                 Teen

Warnings:           Alcohol consumption

Category:            Fluff-ish

Summary:           Casey and Tobias are trying to figure out what they are to each other; when she calls him to meet her at Donahue's, does she let it all out?  

Words:                 1053

A/N:                     This is based on this ask from @mvalentine thanks so much for sending it to me! I’ve got one coming for Ethan & Kaycee too. (NOTE: I have not read any of the other versions yet. If there are any similarities, they are coincidences.)

A/N2:                   I changed it up just a little.  This fic takes place when Casey & Tobias are in the mutual pining/mutual denial stage of their relationship. It’s not long before they finally take the leap.  For those unfamiliar with my HC for them, they dated briefly after meeting at the deli but broke up not long after he stole Stefanie.  They became friends after the attack (after all, he helped save her life), and that’s when their sweet love story began. I hope you enjoy this!

12:00 AM.

That's what the clock read when Tobias stumbled into Donahue's. While it wasn't unusual for him to find himself at a bar on a work night, it normally wasn't this one, and it certainly wasn't at this hour. Donahue's catered to the Edenbrook set, and he was firmly Mass Kenmore. But more importantly, though he'd never admit it, he wasn't as young as he used to be. 

He was uncharacteristically uncomfortable. It wasn't that he was not invited. Casey, Bryce, and even Sienna asked him to join them in a celebration in honor of Casey being cleared to return to work the following week. Three months had passed since the attack, and she was finally returning to the land of the living. Even his biggest skeptic at the start would concede that the once roughish doctor played a large part in helping her get to this day. Nothing could make him happier, yet he was terrified.

During those months, he accepted what became glaringly apparent to him that fateful night: she meant more to him than anyone ever had before. More than he ever imagined anyone ever would. In the months that followed, they formed an undeniable bond, and he knew exactly what four-letter word he could use to describe his feelings for her. He wasn't sure if she felt the same way, and, given her precarious state, he wasn't about to trouble her. She was coming back to life, and he wanted to give her space – a night out alone with her friends. But how he prayed that when she settled into her new normal, there would be a place for him.

At home, he attempted to push thoughts of her out of his head as he grabbed a cold beer and settled down on the couch, but it was futile. He flipped on the television, hoping she was having a good time. She deserved that. He just hoped it wasn't "too good." That's when his phone chimed.

Casey asked... as if he could deny her. Thirty minutes later, he was standing at the door, searching the crowd for the one person he wanted to see.

"HEY!" his shoulder jerked back. 

"Ow!" he hollered as Jackie stared at him with a smirk.

"Can’t take getting hit by a girl, Carrick,” she chuckled. “Anyway, thank God you’re here.”

“Why? Were you looking for an assault victim?"

“Please,” she scoffed, “I have a room full of people I could choose to assault. But Casey is a mess. You’ll likely find it amusing, but we could probably use some help getting her home. No way we’re putting her on the T in this shape.”

“But she’s OK?”

“Define OK,” Jackie grinned. “Come see for yourself.”

As they entered the back room of the bar, they found Casey "dancing." She was leaning heavily on Sienna, who struggled to keep her friend upright while being pushed from side to side. Relief flooded Sienna's eyes when she spotted Tobias approaching.

“Oh, thank God!” she squealed.

“I have never seen you two so happy to see me,” he grinned. 

“I’m always happy to see you,” Sienna assured, “but I can only support Casey for so long!”

“Where’s Lahela?” He asked. “Why isn’t he helping out?”

“Meathead is stuck at the hospital with an emergency,” Jackie shrugged.

“Well, why don’t you two go sit for a bit? I’ll take...” he looked at Casey with amusement. "I’ll take… this… out of your hands for now.”

Sighing with relief, Sienna transferred Casey’s weight onto Tobias, grabbed Jackie’s hand, and headed toward their booth, not giving him a chance to reconsider. Little did she know, there was no chance he would.

Casey nuzzled her head onto Tobias's shoulder, seemingly unaware that her partner had changed. He couldn't help but smile as she swayed to the music, half-asleep in his arms. But the moment came to an end when she nearly slipped to the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around her to prevent her from falling, he pulled her upright.

“OK, sweetheart. I think your dance card is full. We should take you home.”

“Uh-uh!” Casey slobbered. “You can't do that!”

“I can’t do what?” he laughed.

“You can’t take me home! I have a boyfriend, and he wouldn’t like that.”

“Oh, you do,” Tobias snickered. 

“I DO!” She said, poking his chest.

“Well, just tell him I didn’t want you to fall, OK?”

“It doesn’t matter!” She insisted as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “If I was your girlfriend, would it matter to you?”

His breath hitched… if she were his girlfriend….

“So,” he whispered in her ear. “Who is this boyfriend of yours anyway?”

Holding on to his shoulders for dear life, she flung her head back, one eye closed and one half-opened, she attempted to smile. “I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t?” he teased. “Why not? You've told me lots of secrets.”

“Mmm-mmm.  Not this one. It’s top secret.”

“A secret boyfriend?” he asked, with a shake of the head. “That makes no sense. If you were my girlfriend, I’d want the whole world to know. So tell me, what is this jerk's name? I’ll talk some sense into him.”

“I can’t tell you. He doesn’t know he’s my boyfriend yet.”

“Now, how does that work?” Tobias laughed.

Casey wrapped her arms around his neck and looked at him with glazed eyes. “He feels like my boyfriend, but he's not. I don't know if he even likes me."

“Well, if he doesn’t, then he doesn’t deserve you."

“Mmmm,” she stared off into the distance. “Do you know him?”

“I sure hope I do,” he sighed.

Thirty minutes later, Tobias carried a sleeping Casey to her room. Sienna thanked him profusely as she stepped out to get some water to leave at her friend's bedside.

Tobias was surprised to see Casey's eyes open as h tucked her blanket around her.

“Hey,” she asked wearily, “How did you get here?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he grinned. “You just get some sleep.”

“All right. But can you stay until I’m asleep?”

“Sure,” he replied, slipping into a chair next to her bed. "I'll wait here. Is that good?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

It didn't take long. Minutes later, she was sound asleep and Tobias stood up to leave, but before doing so, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Good night, angel. Sleep well.”

The following morning:

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