#but yeah I was planning to do my grocery run this afternoon but I think I'm just gonna go home and take it easy instead o(-<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[dragonji]

gotten into a bad habit of every few days foregoing my meds bc I wake up late and think 'well I feel fine I'll just take them slightly earlier tmrw morning' completely forgetting the Agonies.

[fictionalmenxyn]

♥︎𝐖𝐭𝐟?! 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫?! 𝐑𝐥𝐥𝐲?!♥︎

Paring: frat!rafe x sorority!reader

Warnings: language, vague mention fighting, protective!possesive!rafe, creep, being followed

♥︎♥︎♥︎

You were walking home from college. Your original plan? Go to the store, buy some food for tonight. Then head back to the sorority. Simple take to end the afternoon? Yeah, you thought so.

Walking in the sun, headphones around your neck. You walked down the street, after going to the store you held your grocery bag. Your school bag perched on your one shoulder, as you walked.

You could hear someone walking behind you for the past ten minutes. Since the grocery store. You just thought it was another student, usually it was. You glanced over your shoulder. A normal thing you’d do, to see if you knew them. Usually if you knew them, you’d walk along side them.

But this guy… he was off… wearing a hoodie in the middle of may. The sun beaming, yet his hood remained over his head. He walked almost as if he was hiding. But every so often he’d glance up to you.

You took another corner, going the slightly longer way to the sorority. You and the girls did this to see if someone was following you. Because the route you’re currently on to the sorority. Wasn’t a way many students would take to get back to their places.

The guy was following you, oh shit…

You didn’t wanna make a big fuss, knowing if you ran. He’d run. If you speed walked, he would. So you stayed as casual as possible.

You texted Rafe.

Y/n: hey Rafey! U home rn??

Rafe: ye I’m at the frat rn u comin over later?? Wanna see ur pretty face :)

Y/n: ye im coming over! Love u, see u later!

Rafe: love u too sweet girl see u later ;)

You knew one of Rafe’s rules you both made. Feel unsafe? Go. To. The. Frat. House.

He made sure you knew that rule. Even if he wasn’t at the frat when or if you felt unsafe. He knew the guys would look after you till he’d get back. The guys were like brothers to you.

So when you heard the guys steps quicken, you knew you had to get to the frat.

Once you arrived, you walked up to the porch. Knocking a little too franticly. Rafe opened the door. Just in his basketball shorts and socks. You smiled a little nervously “heyyy Rafe…” Rafe noticed it. He knew you all too well for him to not see through your nerves. He asked “what’s wrong, baby?” You subtly pointed to behind you. You whispered “is he still there?”

He? Who is he? What the fuck did she mean by he? Rafe’s protective mode was in play.

He placed a hand on your hip, “who?” He looked over the top of your head. The height difference coming into play. He saw the guy. Smugly leaning against a street light. Hands in his pockets, despite it being the beginning of summer.

Rafe’s jaw tensed, he looked down to you “he followin’ you or somethin’, sweetheart?” You nodded “couldn’t shake him… it’s making me panic…I think it’s my shorts? You think that’s the re-” Rafe’s rage started to creep in. He cut you off “baby, don’t overthink it, he’s a creep… your outfit shouldn’t make him follow you, okay?” He kisses your forehead. “Just let me deal with it, ok?”

Rafe tilted back a little, tilting his head, turning it to the side. He called out “hey guys?!”

Topper jogged down the stairs. He was originally going to grab a snack. But walked over when he heard Rafe. “What’s up?” Topper asked.

Rafe replied “take Y/n inside, gotta deal with a asshole…”

Topper nodded, he opened his arm out to you. Rafe gently pushed you inside, letting you be tucked under Topper’s arm. Topper guided you into the kitchen. He helped you put your food away. Both of you knowing Rafe won’t let you out of his sight for the rest of the day and the next.

As you went inside, Rafe walked over to the guy. He called out “hey! What’s your problem, man?” The guy replied “what problem?” Rafe scoffed “uhh how about the following my girl problem??” The guy smugly replied “I don’t see no problem.”

Rafe laughed coldly “oh yeah? You think in your creep of a mind, that it’s okay to follow girls around, huh? What sick fuck are you, hm?” The guy scoffed “I ain’t no sick fuck, not my problem she wore that, she had it coming for her… she begged to be followed.” That was the last straw for Rafe. How the fuck says that?? Did the guy have a death wish?? That was all it took for Rafe to swing his first. And definitely not last punch.

You went over to the couch, grabbing your book from your tote bag. You laid on your stomach, on the couch. Opening your book, continuing where you left off last time.

Soon enough, the front door opened. Rafe waltz into the living room. His stern and angered expression softens at the sight. You, in his place (technically his). Lying on the couch, reading your book.

He walked over, climbing on top. His chest to your back. Rafe rested his head next to yours. Your temples squished together. Rafe’s hand comes to play with a few strands of your hair from the front. He whispered “you know, I hate reading…” you interrupted unintentionally “yes I know that…” he chuckled “yeah… what I was saying… I hate reading, but when I watch you? It makes me feel at home, ya know? Just like when we were kids…” you chuckles softly. “You enjoyed when I read it to you, didn’t you?” He nodded. “I did… still do… but don’t tell anyone..” you smiled “pinky swear, I won’t…”

After some time, you had fell asleep. Your forehead in the book, keeping it open. Rafe had returned from his room, after having a zoom meeting with the football team.

He smiled, he walked over. Grabbing the bookmark from the arm of the couch. He gently slipped the book from under your head. Putting the bookmark in, then putting the book into your bag again.

He gently picked you up, with ease. Your head turning into the crook of his neck. He whispered “ssshh… just gonna take you to bed, m’kay?” You subconsciously nodded.

He took you upstairs and down the hallway, to his room. He gently placed you on his bed. Then closing the door, he gently took your shoes and socks off. Along with your cycling shorts, knowing you’d complain about how you don’t wear ‘gym’ clothes to bed. Knowing how cotton sticks to nylon. The then pulled your tshirt off. He went to his closet and grabbed one of his T-shirts.

Heading back into the room and back over to you. He gently and carefully put his tshirt on you. Then he climbed in next to you. Holding you closely, protecting you from the world. He loved you, tried to protect you, always. Lying here not just comforted your sleeping self. But comforted him, knowing you were there… in his arms.

He kissed your temple softly, keeping his lips there as he mumbles “I’ve got you, I’ll keep you safe, sweet girl… always.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎

[sturniqlo]

IN BETWEEN- MATT STURN

summary: with their usual bickering, y/n and chris escalate into a heated argument and matt has to break up a fight between his girlfriend and his brother

cw: angst, cursing, crying, fluff at the end

an: thank you to @ik33pitundercover for this wonderful idea (if you have any idea pls comment them here or in my 'send requests' in my bio and i might make them happen!)

masterlist

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

Before Matt and Y/n got together, it was always Chris and Y/n the bestest of friends. Though they never had any feelings for each other, they were always together. Everyone always told them they had a sibling like relationship. And they both agreed. They constantly bickered, pushed each other around playfully, just everything siblings would do. Eventually, the two other brothers, Nick and Matt, also became close with Y/n.

A couple of month of hanging out one on one, Y/n and Matt ended up dating. And Chris couldn't be happier. His brother and best friend were both together what more could he ask for?

Earlier today, Chris had texted Y/n if she was down to hangout. She politely declined, telling Chris she was going to hangout with Matt for most of the day. He understood and responded to her that he'll probably hangout with his other friends. He was a bit bummed to say the least. Chris can't remember the last time him and Y/n hung out one on one. Not that he was jealous of her and Matt, never. He just wanted to spend some time with his best friend.

After messaging Y/n, he didn't text any of his other friends, too upset to even hang out with anyone else. As the day went on, Nick had came into Chris' room to ask if he wanted to go hangout with him and Madi, he declined. When the afternoon came by, he ordered takeout and ate his taco bell. After eating he hopped on fortnite and played a couple of rounds before deciding to take a nap.

Y/n spent the whole morning and afternoon with Matt. Although she did feel a bit bad for declining Chris, Matt reassured her and told her Chris would be fine. Around ten in the morning, she picked Matt up in her car, and drove them to their usual breakfast spot. They shared each others plate and were both bloated with good food at the end of it. During their breakfast time, Matt had mentioned how Chris had seemed a bit down as of lately. "Do you think it's because you haven't hung out with him?" He said while taking a bite of his pancake. "I've hung out with him. We were all together last weekend." She replied.

"Yeah, I get that but, I mean one on one." Matt didn't mind at all when his brother and girlfriend hung out one on one. He liked that she had a good relationship with Chris and Nick. "Oh, yeah, I see it now. Maybe I can plan something with him next week? If he want to, that is." That conversation was a couple of hours ago. The time was now nearing five in the afternoon and Nick had called Matt that he was staying over at Madi's. "Do you think Chris is home?" Matt asked as they picked out the ingredients for tonight's activity. "Not sure, he texted me earlier that he might hang out with some of his friends."

Y/n and Matt had spent the afternoon at her place watching movies and playing games. Y/n ended up making them lunch, and here they are now in the grocery store. They had both agreed the would make something at Matt's house so Y/n can drive back to her place when she was ready to go. Matt was a bit bummed that she couldn't stay the night but understood that she had an exam early in the morning. "Wait, let me get Chris a pack of Pepsi. He told me he was running low yesterday." Y/n said, pushing the cart towards the soda isle.

"He seriously needs to cut down on the Pepsi. But we just keep feeding into it." Matt wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I agree."

Chris woke up to the sound of a loud bang followed by laughter coming from upstairs in the kitchen. He checked his phone and saw it was almost six in the afternoon. He had slept for about an hour and a half. Confused about the loud bang, he got up to check. Coming up the stairs half awake, he saw Y/n on the floor cleaning up what looked to be some sort of dessert batter. "The fuck happened in here?" Chris said, startling Y/n. "Oh shit! Chris what the hell, you scared me." Y/n stood up from her spot on the floor. "My bad." Chris scoffed, going to the fridge.

"I thought you were going out today?" She threw the many stained paper towels in the trash. "I was going to but, you declined." He threw some shade at her. "I told you I was sorry, Matt had this planned for a couple of days now." She said, walking away to go retrieve their mop. "Where's Matt anyways?" He asks, as Y/n fills up the mop bucket. "He spilled his cake batter on the floor and it got all over him so he went to shower."

"Oh, well clean this mess up then. It not gonna clean itself up." He points to the remaining with his water bottle. "Woah, who put a stick up your ass?" Y/n was taken back a bit. Most of the time she could tell when Chris was joking when saying rude comments because he always smiled and tries not to laugh whenever he says them, so does she, but, he seemed serious about this one. "Stop playing around. Are you going to clean it or not?" Chris slightly raises his voice. Y/n's eyebrows furrow.

"Okay, You've never talked to me like that and I'm not going to let you talk to me like that." She stops filling the bucket up and stares at Chris with a confused glare. What has gotten into him? "Whatever." He scoffs, as he starts walking towards his set of stairs. "Hey, no! You come back here and tell me what this is all about." She tells him, she slowly starts getting mad. "I'm not a fucking child for you to be talking to me like that." He fights back. "Well you're acting like one right now." She crosses her arms. "Just leave me alone and enjoy your time with my brother. Seems like he's the only one you've known for years."

"Is this about us not hanging out as much anymore?" She says as Chris turns back around to face her. "What do you think? You get with my brother and now you forget about me? Was being my friend just an act to get to Matt?" Chris yells. "Are you hearing yourself right now?" Y/n yells back, and she sees Matt walk in with wet hair. "What's going on." Chris turns his head to see who was talking. "Oh look, your boyfriend is back, looks like you won't be needing me this evening." He smiles sarcastically.

"You're being a fucking dick right now." She walks closer to him. "Woah, okay. Let's- why don't you two settle down. And talk without yelling." Matt intervenes and steps in the middle of the arguing pair. "Matt, move. Chris is being unreasonable and isn't thinking before he speaks." Y/n tries to move Matt out of the way. "Babe, hey, calm down. Tell me what happened."

"He came up the stairs and just started being rude to me. He's mad about me and him not hanging out as much. When he could've just told me in a nicely manner." Y/n leans her head at the last part to where Chris can see her. Chris only rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you always tell me you're busy. Seems like you have time for everyone else besides me. I hope you're happy Matt, considering the fact that you ruined our friendship." Matt turns around. "Chris, I didn't ruin no friendship and your friendship with Y/n isn't ruined."

"Matt do you know what he said to me?" Matt shakes his head. "Oh, please enlighten him, Y/n." Chris says mockingly, she only rolls her eyes at him. "If you keep rolling em' they're going to get stuck." Chris adds. "Chris, stop it." Matt turns his head towards him "Go on." Matt tells her. "He told me that I only became friends with him to get with you. Can you believe that? He doesn't know the shit he's saying!"

"Chris? Do you really think that low of her?" Matt is shocked by all of this. He's never seen Chris and Y/n argue this bad. And it's making him upset that he's in the middle of this. "I'm starting to." Chris' comment ticks Y/n off. "That's it, I'm out of here." Y/n grabs her purse and phone and pushes through them. "Y/n come back." Matt gently grabs her arm. "I can't be in the same room as him right now. Not when he's acting all bitchy."

"I'm not acting bitchy, so get your facts straight." Chris adds on to her anger. "Chris that's enough." Matt raises his voice at his brother. "Here, come to my room to cool down and I'll talk to Chris, okay?" Matt softly talks to Y/n as he sees that she near bursting into tears. He knows she hates arguing with anybody. "Okay, okay." She whispers walking off to Matt's room, not making eye contact with her best friend.

Once Matt hears his room door close he starts going off on Chris. "What was that all about." He points to his room where Y/n is. "An argument, dumbass." Chris makes a smart mouth comment. "You know you could've talked to her like a normal person right? And to accuse her of using you so she could get to me was a low blow." Chris now realizes how bad it sounded. When Y/n entered Matt's room, she sat on his bed and let her tears out. She's never fought with Chris this bad. Yeah, they might've had a little argument or two over something small, but it never got to this point where someone had to intervene.

"Sorry, I got carried away. It's just, I miss hanging out with her. I feel like she's slowly forgetting about me ever since you two started dating." Chris says, wiping his eyes to prevent his tears to come down. "She's not forgetting about you, trust me. We always talk about whenever we hangout. And, she's also noticed how you two haven't been hanging out as much. Also, Im sorry for hogging her for months now." Matt tells Chris, earning a light chuckle from him at the last comment.

"Why don't you go in there and talk to her while I clean this up, okay?" Chris nods and starts walking towards Matt's room where Y/n currently is. He lightly knocks before opening the door. "Hey." Chris says, walking towards the bed to sit next to her. "Hi." She says, lifting her head off her knees. "I'm sorry about everything I said out there. I know you didn't use me to get to Matt. That was stupid of me to say." He shakes his head thinking back on it. "I just felt like you were forgetting about me and I was upset and let out my anger on you instead of talking to you like a normal person would." Y/n finally looks at him. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But, I also wish I would've realized it sooner, it would've prevented this whole shit show."

"Do you forgive me?" He asks lowly. "Of course I do, you're my best friend." After a couple of minutes basking in the comfortable silence, Matt finally walks in. "Nobody has been killed, I'm guess you two made up?" He takes a seat next to Chris. "Yup, we're good now." Matt smiles at that. "That's great, how about tomorrow you two spend the whole day together after Y/n is done with her exam?" Both Y/n and Chris liked the idea of that. "That sounds nice. What do you think, Chris?" Y/n asks Chris. "I'm up for it."

"Come on, let's go bake the boxed cake since I spilt the other one." He stands up and sits in the middle of them wrapping his arms around both of them. "That's the first ever biggest fight, definitely going into the book."

"Shut up!" Chris and Y/n say in unison and laugh.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

It's Too Soon, Too Fast, But This Could Last

Request: It was supposed to be a one night stand. Then it became a second night. A third - and suddenly they realized that they had never left.

Roy Kent x Reader 1k words Warnings: Language, mentions of a one-night stand

“I was thinking about getting a pizza for dinner. What d’you think?”

You looked up from your phone across the couch at Roy, who was gazing at you with raised eyebrows. Another dinner invitation? Was he expecting you to sleep over- again?

When you’d gone out with your girlfriends on Friday night, the only thing on your mind was dancing and letting loose. Sleeping with someone was not in the plans. And waking up on Saturday morning in Roy Kent’s bed was nowhere on your radar. But both of those things happened. And Saturday morning had turned into a lazy Saturday afternoon of movies and takeout, followed by another night in his bed. Now it was late Sunday morning, and you were lounging on his couch with a movie, wondering when the infamous womanizer was going to kick you out of his house.

“Pizza,” you echoed cautiously. “Uh, sure, pizza sounds great.” After a moment, you cleared your throat, fighting the urge to squirm nervously. “I might head home after that,” you added, keeping your eyes on Roy.

Instead of agreeing that yes, you should get the hell out of his house, Roy wrinkled his nose at you. “How come?” he asked plainly. “Something wrong?”

Not the reaction you were expecting, if you were being honest. “I think you might be running out of t-shirts to loan me, Roy,” you chuckled awkwardly, gesturing at the black shirt the footballer had handed you after the shower you’d shared that morning.

Those brown eyes narrowed playfully. “Just need a change of clothes, eh?” After a moment, he shrugged, the corner of his mouth beginning to curve into a smirk. “Why don’t I drive you by your place so you can grab a couple things while I go to the shop and get things to make a proper dinner?” Before you could formulate any sort of answer, he grabbed your leg and tugged you towards him until you were right next to him, face to face, noses touching. “How’s that sound? Stay over again?”

That tiny grin and those raised eyebrows were impossible to resist. “Alright,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll stay again.”

That was three weeks ago. Now, your toothbrush sat on Roy’s bathroom sink, next to your toiletry bag and hairbrush. Your duffel bag was settled in its spot next to his dresser, a spot it only left when you ran back to your place to refill it with fresh clothes. Even your laundry was done at Roy’s house, using the fancy-high tech washer and dryer in his washroom with just as much ease as you used your own. When you left work, you went straight to Roy’s house. When you popped into the shops, your groceries went into his kitchen.

It was a bit surreal, if you were being honest; you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to your girlfriends, other than coyly tell them that you’d had a good time with Roy after he’d put his hand on the small of your back and led you out of the club you’d met at. But hell, if it wasn’t the happiest couple of weeks you’d had in a long time.

You were in the kitchen making dinner when you heard Roy’s voice. He didn’t call your name, the way he usually did when he walked through the door. Instead, it sounded like he was in the middle of a conversation with someone. Sure enough, when you peeked into the living room, you saw him with his mobile pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he was saying. With his back to the kitchen, he couldn’t see you lingering in the doorway, unsure whether to do something to get his attention. “Is it cool if I, uh, bring my girlfriend with me?”

Girlfriend. Your hand flew to your mouth to stifle your squeak and hide your smile. Girlfriend. Had Roy really said that? With two little syllables, he’d nearly stopped the breath in your lungs and sent your heart into the stratosphere.

Deciding to pretend you hadn’t heard a thing, you quickly turned back to the kitchen. Too quickly, apparently, because you harshly slammed your shoulder into the doorframe.

“Ow,” you hissed, rubbing your arm.

So much for keeping quiet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, Roy was looking at you, phone still pressed to his ear. His eyes sparkled at the sight of you, clearly fighting a smile. “Alright man,” he said to whoever he was chatting with. “I’ll see you later.” He hung up and offered you a small nod. “Hey there,” he hummed casually.

“Hi.” You crossed the room to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. The kiss he pressed to your lips was familiar now. “So, you’re taking your girlfriend somewhere, hmm?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Do I need to leave before she finds me here or…?”

Roy’s smile turned from coy to bashful and so freaking adorable. “You heard that, yeah?” He chuckled and shook his head. “One of my teammates is having a birthday party tomorrow night.” He pressed his forehead to yours; you could feel the embarrassed heat radiating off his face. “I’d fucking love it if you came with me.”

“What about your girlfriend?” you teased, anxious to get him to ask him the question you were clearly digging for.

Sure enough, Roy rolled his eyes and gave you a little squeeze. “Fuck off,” he huffed with a chuckle. “I was talking about you, you muppet.” He leaned in for a kiss.

Refusing to let him off the hook, you dodged his lips and shook your head. “I’m not your girlfriend,” you reminded him pointedly. “Unless you asked me something and I completely missed it.”

Roy gave another eyeroll, paired with an affectionate groan. “Fine.” He squeezed you closer now. “Since you’re already half moved in, d’you think you want to be my girlfriend?”

It was supposed to be one night. One night in Roy Kent’s bed, something fun and casual, something that you’d giggle about with your girlfriends and slowly forget about. But now, with your things in Roy’s house and his arms wrapped around you, you knew there was only one answer to his question.

“Sure, Roy.” You leaned forward and kissed his lips. “I think I want to be your girlfriend.”

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 9)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc reader part 9 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

attention was a funny thing. for so long, you were under the impression that you had lando's. with the way he treated you, the way he worked up your driver ranking, the way he made his intentions clear. but now you had to fight for it and lets just say you've never been afraid of getting your hands a little dirty

word count: 4k tags: this is soft and then its not is all i have to say, also alcohol consumption i guess

The universe was never on your side.

Lando stayed with you at your place for only a little while before he had to return to his flat. Just because he had a bit of time off between races, didn’t mean he could stop working. He had Quadrant obligations, training, meetings, he even had to make a quick trip back to the UK on Thursday as he was needed at the McLaren Technology Centre.

It was no fault of his own, but he had no time for you. You genuinely didn’t think you would see him until the weekend, and even then you had your own commitments and still hadn’t decided if you wanted Lando to accompany you to dinner. 

Of course you wanted him there, but you still hadn’t spoken to Charles. You knew if you showed up to your mother’s place with Lando at your side, a heated conversation would undoubtedly commence.

You wanted Lando’s opinion. You weren’t even sure if he would want to come to dinner. The plan was to sit down and talk to him about it, but you hadn’t had a chance to all week.

Now it was Friday and as far as you were aware, Lando was supposed to be coming home sometime today. You expected he would at least give you a call when he was in the car from Nice. 

You didn’t expect to return from your jog in the afternoon and see Lando in your kitchen helping himself to the groceries you purchased yesterday. He turned over his shoulder when he heard the door open, cheeks full with whatever sandwich he had just made for himself.

He looked good. The sleeves of his t-shirt tightened around his biceps. His curls weren’t as prominent, he must have gotten a bit of a trim in the UK, but you still wanted to run your fingers through his hair. The summer sun was doing wonders for his skin, he probably had a darker tan than you did and god he was literally glowing. 

He approached you slowly, gaze raking over every inch of your body. Monaco was hot, you had to dress appropriately for your run. And you doubted Lando was complaining about the sports bra and matching athletic tights you had on. 

“I regret telling you my key code,” you told him. Lando only stifled his laughter in response as he finished chewing. He held out the end of his sandwich to you, offering you a bite. And you were starving after that run, so you happily obliged. 

“You don’t have mustard in your fridge,” he pointed out.

You held your mouth in front of your hand as you swallowed, “I don’t like mustard.”

“But I do,” he took another bite.

“Well next time I go grocery shopping I’ll be sure to ask for your list, yeah? Any dietary restrictions I should know about? Is the almond milk in my fridge not up to your standards?” You raised your eyebrows, but it was clear your questions were full of sarcasm and Lando didn’t have anything else to add as he slowly finished chewing.

You patted his chest and started to pivot, planning on taking a shower and changing but Lando grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you back towards him. He kissed you, not letting your teasing stop him from greeting you the way he wanted to.

“Hi,” he said quietly as he pulled away just enough so his lips were still hovering over yours.

“Hi,” you repeated, hating how quick he was able to make you smile. There was no point in trying to hide it either, it would only make your cheeks hurt more. “Is it bad that I’ve missed you?”

“I don’t think so because I’ve missed you too,” he kissed you again. 

He had just been busy. He hadn’t been able to make the time to see you or take you out, and you couldn’t blame him for that. Sure it was a little frustrating knowing he was in Monte Carlo for most of this week and you couldn’t do anything about it, but at least he was with you now. 

You may have never been in a relationship before, but you knew exactly what this was. It was the honeymoon phase. You wanted to spend as much time with him as humanly possible and him having a job that kept him occupied and travelling was a little bit of an inconvenience for you. 

Lando offered to make you some lunch while you got ready for the rest of the day and you had to admit, it was kind of nice having someone around who wanted to take care of you. 

When you finished your shower and stepped into the hall, Lando was in the kitchen and singing quietly to himself whatever song was playing from his phone. You watched for a second as he opened up a few cupboards until he found the plates he was searching for.

After you had changed and and rang a towel through your hair, you joined Lando in the living room. There was a plate on the coffee table with a sandwich and a variety of fruit on it and you wanted to thank him, but he was on a phone call.

So even though he was here with you, he wasn’t actually present.

Regardless, you weren’t going to let it bother you. You tuned him out for the most part, responding to a couple friends you had been neglecting to text back. It wasn’t until he somewhat mentioned you in his conversation that your interest piqued.

“...at my girl's place,” but you looked at each other at the exact same time, wearing very similar expressions of uncertainty. Lando even sounded unsure as he said it, like he wasn’t confident that was the right thing to call you.

Your confusion turned to amusement as whoever Lando was talking to presumably asked about you and he struggled to explain what you were to him exactly. 

“Yeah she’s-” Lando paused, feeling the weight of your stare. “It’s uh, it’s pretty new.”

That wasn’t technically wrong. 

“No, she’s cool, you’ll like her,” Lando assured them. Now you were really wondering who he was talking to. Lando dropped his hand to your leg. “But I gotta go, I’ll talk to you in a bit, yeah?”

You waited until he put the phone down to question him, the smirk on your face was making your jaw hurt and he preemptively rolled his eyes in anticipation for whatever you were going to say.

“Your girl?” You exclaimed, reaching forward to playfully press your hand against his cheek. “Am I your girl, Lando Norris?”

Lando opened his mouth and then shut it again, settling on a heavy exhale as he took your hand in his. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and gave you the sweetest look he could muster.

“That’s a trick question so I’m not going to answer it.”

You snorted, “Please elaborate.”

He sighed again, “If I say, yes, you’re my girl, you’ll be upset because I haven’t actually asked you to my girlfriend yet, which-” he held up a finger, “-is a bit of a childish term, might I add. We’re not twelve, Y/N.”

You held up a hand in defence, feeling a little attacked, “I didn’t say anything.”

He continued, “But if I say no, then you’ll still be upset because you know that you are in fact my girl.”

You hummed in response. You could understand how he saw it as a trick question, even if you hadn’t intended it as such. Maybe he was smarter than you gave him credit for.

“It’s a lose-lose,” he added. “For me, at least.”

“There’s a simple solution.”

“Which is?”

Your eyebrows raised, surprised you even had to spell it out. “Ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“Will you-”

“No!” You interjected. Lando flinched, having not expected you to raise your voice all of a sudden. But this is what he was talking about, this was the lose-lose scenario he now found himself in. 

“I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted, a shy smile teased his lips. It was cute. He was cute. But he should have known better.

“Lando, I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” you reminded him quietly. There was nothing embarrassing about that statement, but what you were asking for was, in a sense, childish. “I don’t care that we’re adults, I want to be asked out properly. A whole grand gesture.” You waved your hand in front of your face for emphasis, “Sweep me off my feet or something, I don’t know. Don’t just ask me out, put a little effort into it.”

Lando’s grip slid up your arm to be able to pull you onto his lap. Your legs straddled either side of him as his fingers found your waist. He leaned his head against the back of the couch as he looked up at you, the same timid smile on his lips.

He nodded, “Okay, effort. I can do that.”

“Nothing embarrassing.”

“Aren’t grand gestures usually embarrassing?” He retorted.

“I have faith you’ll figure something out that saves us both from humiliation.”

You leaned down to kiss him and it had finally sunk in that you could do this without any cause for concern now. Granted, you still had to be cautious out in public and there was still the looming issue of your brother, but right now, in the comfort of your own flat, you could kiss him and not have to worry about any repercussions. 

The only thing you had to worry about was his phone going off again. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groaned, dropping your head to his shoulder as he reached for his phone that you thought he had finally put away for the day. Lando rubbed your back as he checked out who had texted him. 

It was his manager, someone he couldn’t just ignore.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. You both looked at the message and you grew even more annoyed when you saw he was asking for Lando to meet him at his place. 

“Selfishly, can you just stay here?” You asked, hoping that batting your eyelashes would do the trick.

“I want to, you know I do,” Lando muttered, sending a quick response to his manager telling him he’ll head over. He then put his phone down and pulled your face towards his. He really did seem disappointed that he had to leave again. His thumb grazed over your cheek, “Let’s go out tonight, yeah?”

You hummed, “What did you have in mind?”

You could see the gears grinding in his head. “There’s a handful of drivers in Monaco right now. A few of them had mentioned going to Sinistre. Could be fun?”

You had been to Sinistre a handful of times. It was definitely one of the places to be in Monaco on a Friday night. It was exclusive too, it wasn’t easy for just anyone to wander in. Plus it would be a good opportunity to be out in public with Lando without it too obviously being a date. 

If you could keep his attention, that was. 

Lando was still responding to texts as he got up to leave. He slid his phone into his pocket as he kissed you goodbye, squeezing your hand too, a gesture you were starting to get very used to from him. 

“I’ll see you in a bit,” he told you. “And then I promise, this weekend I’m all yours.”

You still hadn’t brought up the idea of inviting him to dinner. And now was clearly not the time to as he was on his way out the door. So you just nodded and kissed him once more. You didn’t want to worry about tomorrow night’s dinner just yet, you just wanted to focus on tonight.

ynleclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 30,127 others

ynleclerc amour sans fin

view all 2,241 comments

danielricciardo we get it, you're french

ynleclerc im monégasque you kiwi shit danielricciardo im austrailain ynleclerc ohhh hurts when someone gets your nationality wrong huh?

carlossainz55 bella

ynleclerc ❤️

landonorris can you even walk in those

ynleclerc no but im taller than you in them so

paddockswags so all the boys on the grid love her huh

Lando grabbed your hand when you exited your flat, keeping you from walking towards the car. Your brows cinched in confusion when you noticed him eyeing the top of your head and then down at your heels.

“You’re not taller than me,” he scoffed. “We’re the same height.”

You tilted your chin up, “No I think I’m taller.”

Lando rolled his eyes, reaching for the handle of the car door. You weren’t wearing the blazer anymore, you had stolen that from one of his suitcases he had left at your place for the sole purpose of the photo. When you posted it, he was still out, but he made sure to text you, telling you that you could wear his clothes any day.

When he climbed into the backseat as well, you noticed he still had Instagram open and was looking at your photo, more specifically, the comments.

“I think he has your notifications on.”

You pushed your hair over your shoulder and leaned towards him, trying to see what had caught his attention, “Who?”

“Carlos.”

You snickered, “Why do you think that?”

“He’s always one of the first people to comment on your pictures,” Lando’s eyes met yours and you wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to worry about Carlos. That Carlos and you were only ever friends and that Instagram notifications on your phone screen didn’t mean anything.

You would have, had his phone not started ringing. 

You inhaled a sharp breath and Lando laughed at your reaction to his phone pulling his attention away once again. 

“I’m about to throw that thing out the window.”

Lando let it go to voicemail. He gently placed his hand on the side of your face and pulled your lips to his. 

“It’s officially my weekend now, I promise.”

“If I hear your phone ring one more time-”

Lando chuckled again, “You won’t, don’t worry. I’m all yours.”

And you believed him because his hand stayed on your leg for the duration of the car ride from your flat to the club. You believed him because he tried to shelter you from nearby paparazzi and fans that were waiting outside of Sinistre, hoping to catch a shot or two of any drivers. You believed him because he didn’t let go of your hand once you stepped inside.

But because he was holding onto your hand, he was able to pull you in the direction of his teammate who was standing near the bartop, chatting away with some friends. As far as you were aware, Oscar didn’t even live in Monaco so you had no idea what he was doing here.

Oscar eyed the way your hands connected between your bodies, a smile growing on his face.

“Why hello lovebirds,” Oscar teased. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

And then Lando became lost in a conversation with Oscar. As if he hadn’t just promised you that he was all yours. 

To be fair, Lando was a social guy. He could find any opportunity to chat with literally anyone and it was a trait of his you admired. 

But you were selfish tonight. You didn’t want to share him. You had to share him all week, you had barely seen him all week. 

You scanned the club, wondering if there was anyone else here that Lando might want to talk to after Oscar and you wanted to scream when your eyes landed on Carlos sitting at a nearby bench, talking to his own friends.

There was no way Lando was going to pass up an opportunity to chat with one of his best mates.

You glanced at him and then back at Carlos, and then an idea came to mind. 

“I’ll be right back,” you muttered, unsure if Lando even heard you as your hand slipped from his. 

You made your way across the club, not oblivious to the way a few heads turned as you balanced yourself in those heels. But you didn’t want the attention of strangers, you only wanted Lando’s attention.

You approached the Spanish driver, “Carlos, I need you to do me a favour.”

He turned his head and glanced up at you from where he sat on the cushioned bench, “Anything, hermosa. What did you need?”

You turned over your shoulder to make sure Lando was still chatting away to Oscar by the bar.

Lando didn’t explicitly say it, but you knew your driver ranking was still heavy on his mind. And with the lack of attention you had been getting, you felt as though it was time to challenge Lando at his own game. 

“I need you to not leave my side.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

He was already a few drinks in. Which might honestly make it easier. Everyone was flirty when they were drunk.

“I don’t know, just-” you looked over your shoulder again, Lando glanced your way and smiled before falling back into his conversation  “-pretend you’re into me. Pretend I’m someone you want to take home. Pretend Charles wouldn’t kill you if you tried to hit on me.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, “Just have fun with it and make sure Lando sees.”

“Why?” Carlos asked. “Aren’t you here with him?”

“Yeah but he’s had it too easy recently,” you said through a faint breath of laughter. “Come on, Carlos, help me out here.”

And then it clicked for him. It was like you could see all the gears shifting into place and he hummed in response. “I get it. This is about your driver ranking, isn’t it?”

“That’s exactly it,” a devious grin spread across your face from cheek to cheek. You made sure you had Carlos’ full attention as you pressed both of your palms on either side of his face. “So unless you want him to beat you, don’t leave my side.”

Carlos didn’t need any more of a reason to grab your hand and pull you sideways onto his lap, a squeal passing through your lips as you didn’t think he would act so suddenly. You snaked your arm around his shoulders as his fingers instantly found a home on your leg, spread out across your thigh. 

Your faces were inches apart, you could smell the tequila shots he had undoubtedly taken as soon as he got here. The corner of his lip was tugged upwards as his eyes landed on the curve of your smile before darting back up to meet your gaze. The strobing pink and blue lights all around you only highlighted the glossed over expression he wore. Carlos wasn’t drunk yet, but he was certainly on his way there. 

You noticed how his eyes dropped once more and you called him out on it, “I’m not kissing you again.”

“So that was a one time thing?” He asked. “And in front of your brother? You really did me dirty there.”

“I needed to prove a point.”

“Which was what exactly? That you leave half the drivers on the grid speechless?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed together as Carlos said almost the exact same thing Lando said earlier in the week. You never did get a chance to ask Lando about what he meant by that. 

Carlos saw you about to turn your head in the direction of the Brit but he cupped your jaw with his hand and kept you from looking anywhere else. His thumb traced over your lower lip, it was brief and so light you couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not.

“He’s looking,” Carlos told you. 

You had to admire the move, making sure your attention was on him and solely him. You could only imagine Lando’s reaction to seeing Carlos’ hand against your cheek. 

He said something else but his voice was nearly drowned out by the music playing through the speakers that you had no choice but to lean in so his lips were right next to your ear. Again, you couldn’t tell if Carlos’ did that with intent or not, lowering his voice so you’d have to close the gap even further. 

“Are you mad at him?” Carlos repeated himself.

“I don’t think mad’s the right word,” you said, pulling back slightly. Carlos kept the placement of his hand on your face, the tips of his fingers lost in the strands of your hair. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t think messing with Lando’s driver ranking plan is a valid enough reason to be asking for my help like this,” He pointed out. You were surprised that he was more well-read now a few shots in than he was on any given day. “Annoyed?”

You nodded. “He hasn’t been paying me any attention,” you rolled your eyes when you realised how needy you sounded. Carlos even chuckled at your reasoning. “So I just want to flip the cards. I want him to work for my attention.”

“Well I think it’s working,” Carlos got a devious glint in his eye. In your peripheral vision you could make out the McLaren driver slowly making his way towards you. Carlos cleared his throat when Lando was close enough and looked up at him with a blameless grin. You kept your eyes on Carlos for a few extra seconds, a little paranoid to see Lando’s reaction.

“What the hell is going on?” Lando asked, slight humour in his tone. 

But when you finally looked at him, you could see the light heartedness didn’t extend past the question. His jaw was clenched, his stare was narrowed directly on you. You wanted to reach forward and smooth out the creases in his forehead, but you stayed seated on Carlos’ lap.

“Just about to get a drink, ‘scuse us mate.” Carlos answered. You slid off his lap but his hand connected with yours as he led you away from Lando and towards the bar. 

Lando followed, obviously, walking at your other side, “Okay, honestly, what is going on?”

You stuck out your lower lip, “Oh, I’m sorry Lando, did you forget that he’s still above you on my driver ranking?”

It was slowly starting to sink in for him now what you were doing. You leaned against the bar, Carlos’ hand still on your lower back and you purposely leaned into his side as you looked at Lando on your other side. Your pout turning into a machiavellian smirk only had Lando shuffling closer to you, trying to figure out what the driving factor was behind you suddenly clinging to Carlos.

Carlos handed you a drink and you glanced down at it, seeing the margarita he had just ordered for you. You slid your index finger over the salt that rimmed the glass to collect some on the pad of your finger. Then you locked eyes with Lando as your tongue poked through your lips to lick the salt off, tasting that hint of lime in there as well. Lando watched as you purposely tugged your lower lip down slowly before bringing your face daringly close to his. Your gaze dropped to his throat as he swallowed in anticipation, waiting for what you were going to do and hating that Carlos’ hand was still on you.

Your eyes met his again. When you took a breath it hit Lando’s face and he would have given anything to taste that lime and salt combination that was still present on your tongue. 

But you were on a mission. He had to put the effort in tonight.

“Do you want to know why Carlos is higher than you, Lando?” You asked, sounding sweet with intention.

It was an act. You wanted to lure Lando closer with your voice, and it worked. He nodded, probably not even comprehending the question at its fullest. 

“I don’t have to work for his attention,” you answered, retreating closer to Carlos once again. You watched as Lando’s features hardened when Carlos’ hand slipped further around your waist. Your smirk shifted into a smile, “But now you have to work for mine.”

part 10 here | masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @noescapricho-essentimiento @xqueenslytherinx if i missed someone im so sorry

[violetmuses]

Safety Net - A. Aretas 🌴❤️‍🩹🫂

Title: Safety Net - A. Aretas 🌴 ❤️‍🩹 🫂

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: When Armando Aretas leaves Mexico and faces Miami again, you change his life.

@nelo0wesker @nobodygetsza @yeahnohoneybye @sofia-da-1st @spaceacelover @btitannaaaaa

=====

Safety Net: Chapter 1

2024

The quiet departure from Mexico took so much planning, but Armando Aretas returned to Miami at last. Hiding would just stall reality this time.

His biological father, well-known Detective Mike Lowrey, pulled strings and “eased” the lifetime sentence, but Armando just needed more.

Waiting around between missions seemed pointless. If not useful, Armando might as well go back to prison and lock that damn cell forever.

Taking one rental car back to the small apartment from Lowrey, Armando didn't contact his father right away and took this much-needed shower before organizing just a few belongings here.

“I'm back.” Armando called Lowrey by the early afternoon.

“Hey, man. Really? Do you want me to pick you up from the airport?” Mike was a little surprised while answering the phone.

“Nah. Already settled here, but I'm just telling you.” Armando cleared his throat awkwardly

“You found the house? Cool. Glad you called me, too. Need anything?” Even Mike clipped words at this point.

“Maybe a side hustle?” Armando tried to frame the question easily. “I don't wanna stay around if you'll just call for work.”

“Right, I didn't think of that idea. My bad.” Mike almost whispered. “Let's see if I can help out a little bit.”

“Yeah, bye.” Armando hung up and left once more, hoping to run errands.

____

Many ran straight to the grocery store for various reasons, but Armando didn't need much, unlike other folks with children and more vacation plans.

Leaving the self-checkout, warm sunlight hit the parking lot as Armando reached that car and settled items, but one person caught his eye.

One door opens from another storefront in the shopping center.

“Thank you so much!” You beamed toward restaurant staff while carrying takeout and kept walking in the direction of your own vehicle.

To Armando, you looked cute and raved as sunlight heats up the state of Florida.

Though watching you from a distance, Armando found himself smiling in return, but pulled together and drove away, simply refusing to act weird.

Who are you? Aretas ponders during the commute back.

_____

Cooking and eating alone, gentle music played from his Bluetooth speaker. The device stood as his most expensive item beyond weapons or gear.

One call interrupted washing the dishes, but Armando picked up regardless.

“Hello?” Armando greeted the caller.

“Hey, it's me. Got something. Do you mind if we meet early tomorrow?” Mike Lowrey picked up this call again.

“No. What's going on?” The day would have Aretas occupied.

“This barbershop owner needs help.” Mike explained. “You'll get paid for basic upkeep over there. Nothing fancy.”

“Doesn't sound terrible.” Armando grounded his plans for the morning.

“Fair enough. See you tomorrow.” Mike ended the call this time.

Better than nothing. Armando thought, sleeping without dreams in preparation.

_____

“What's up?” Cruising with style, Mike Lowrey arrived while driving his classic Porsche the next day and greeted Aretas in this lot. “We'll meet that owner first.”

“Cool.” Armando repeated the note of his estranged father.

“How was your flight?” Mike tried offering small talk.

“Good. Still getting used to the house.” Armando told the truth.

“You'll be fine.” Mike went on. “My first place wasn't always dope.”

“Wait. Didn't you grow up with money?” Aretas squinted near his father. “That's what Marcus told me.”

“Well, yeah, but your mother knocked out riches. I stood undercover and worked as her driver before you were born.” Mike cleared his throat. “Let's go.”

____

“Morning, Detective.” The barbershop owner spoke up while addressing Mike Lowrey.

“Morning, Sir.” Mike offered respect to the older gentleman. “We shared our phone calls earlier, but this is my son Armando.”

“Hello.” Genuinely kind while speaking English, Aretas offered to shake hands with the owner right now.

“Heard about you, but we don’t have much time for questions. Let me show you around.” The older man continued speaking. Even Mike Lowrey stepped back, letting this moment between two different people for once.

Let him grow and learn. That’s the only way out of this problem. Lowrey thought, quietly watching his son understand this new environment.

_____

For Armando, three important rules grounded his place at the barbershop:

Aretas needed to show up every day now, arrive on time, and avoid drama. Constant structure keeps this guy from trouble in the first place.

Clients for the barbershop varied all week and Armando would remain observant every time someone opened that chiming front door.

Sooner than later, staff knew his name and everyone laughed sometimes, offering Aretas this comradery that didn't include heartbreak.

“Have you met Mike's partner yet?” One employee chuckled while cleaning his station.

“Marcus?” Sweeping, Armando immediately rolled his eyes and workers cracked up about Detective Marcus Burnett, Mike Lowrey's famous partner.

“Oh, no! Tell us.” The employee settled down and resumed working.

“I joined special operations at the police department, but this barbershop thing is a temporary job.” Armando played up his role a little bit. “One time, Marcus accidentally set our car on fire.”

“Woah!” Voices gasped through shock and even the owner tuned in.

“Marcus didn't know that windshield wiper fluid is flammable, so we jumped out right before everything burst into flames.” Aretas nearly cringed.

“Damn!” This story just pulled everyone's attention.

“We made it out alive, but moments like that really happen.” Armando shook his head and still cleaned when the front door chimed again.

“Hi! How's everybody doing?” One greeting brightened up the entire space. “I'm just here to bring Dad some lunch.”

You walked toward that barbershop owner with the biggest smile on your face, carrying takeout.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Thank you.” The owner gently raved while facing you, his daughter.

[munsonsreputation]

21 (already under)

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: [3.2K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, lovers to strangers, mentions of underage drinking, crying (mentions of breakup), isolation, brief talk of anxiety, cursing, angst...ambiguous ending (maybe part 2)

summary: it's eddie's 21st birthday and though you two have been broken up for 2 years, you can't help but wonder if you should call him up and wish him a happy birthday. but to your surprise, it seems he has already beaten you to it.

Pacing back and forth in the living room of your apartment isn’t ideally how you imagined to be spending your Saturday night, but in hindsight, these days you practically spent the entire day confined to the four walls.

Your days used to be filled with stops at the trailer park to visit your favorite metal head and nights spent at the Hideout being his biggest fan in the crowd. But all of that, including him was now gone in the rearview for quite some time.

So much time had passed, but at the same time it felt like it was just yesterday where you and him went your separate ways, living two completely different lives in the same small town where you did your best to avoid each other.

But how could you avoid him without running into his friends or stumbling into Uncle Wayne at the grocery store from time to time?

All of it was just fucking impossible, and a huge chunk of you wanted to pack your things up and move away, but you knew his ghost would follow you everywhere no matter where you were in the world.

Even tonight, in the confines of your apartment, you couldn’t avoid him.

It was his twenty-first birthday today. The big 2-1 that marked the age where he could finally drink legally without facing any repercussions from Hopper. A coming of age that was supposed to be celebrated with you next to him at the Hideout.

You two had planned it out years ago when you were just seniors hanging out at Lover’s Lake with your hands intertwined and the sun setting down on the both of you.

“Hopper is gonna lose his shit if you get busted for underage drinking again.” You chided quietly, feeling him pull one of his hands away from your waist to reach over and grab an ice cold beer from the small cooler he packed.

He rolled his eyes playfully, taking a swig of the bitter before holding it out for you.

“He did the same thing when he was our age…maybe even a little worse! He’s got to cut me some slack.”

“In three years, you’ll be 21, then that’s when he’ll cut you some.”

Eddie scoffed, slinging his arm across your shoulders, tugging you close to him as you squealed, trying not to spill the beer all over the both of you. Resting your head on his shoulder, you got comfortable, taking a sip of the drink that was definitely not your choice of beverage on a scorching afternoon, but it would make do for now.

“My 21st is gonna be at the Hideout, obviously.” He said, rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your arm.

You looked at up him through your lashes, blinking kindly, “Yeah? I just know the groupies are going to have a field day with you.”

He met your eyes followed by a dramatic huff as he shook his head and squeezed your skin lightly, almost in a soft, scolding way.

“Stop that. You know you’re my favorite fan…my one and only groupie.”

You scrunched your face up at him lovingly, puckering your lips and silently asking him to grant you with one of his famous kisses that you would never get tired of — even if it was a little peck.

“Do I still need to RSVP or will the offer still stand?” You mumbled against his lips.

You could feel his smile against your skin, before feeling another kiss come down on them.

“It wouldn’t be a celebration without you there.”

Yet here you were years later anxiously pacing your apartment and contemplating whether you should pick up the phone and at least greet him on his birthday before the clock strike midnight.

Part of you wanted to think that the split between you and Eddie was amicable, but in reality it was something so far from that. You had always thought that maybe Eddie would have seen it coming — that the growing distance and constant fighting was a telltale-sign of a break.

But he didn’t see it at all. In fact, he was completely blindsided.

“Just tell me how to make it better.” Eddie pleaded, holding your face in his hands, attempting to try to change your mind about your decision.

You couldn’t bear to look at him, to see the desperation, heartache, and confusion cluttering his features in the worst kind of way — the way that you couldn’t fix because it was coming from you.

“There’s nothing you can do,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly as the salt poured down your cheeks and you forced your face away from his gentle touch.

He pursed his lips together, rubbing a rough hand down his face as the silence ate him up whole, not knowing if he was man enough to go in for a hug or ask you to leave and forget that you two ever existed in a world where you two loved each other.

Because he still loved you, even when you were standing in front of him, breaking his heart into a million pieces that were bound to be shattered all over again if he tried to make any other offers to fix it — fix you two.

Your sobs filled his bedroom, cries that even you couldn’t explain because no matter the distance or stupid fights you and Eddie got into, this was the last thing you wanted to do. Desperately you wanted to see it through, to know that you and him would grow out of the phase together and come out of it stronger, but you knew deep down that this was what you needed.

What your heart needed.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, swiping your fingers over your eyes as you finally opened them, met with the sight of him still crestfallen.

You couldn’t stand to be there any longer, brushing past his figure as you dashed through the trailer and dug for your car keys in your pocket. He didn’t chase after you — you had already left him standing there and he couldn’t bear watching you drive away too.

You weren’t sure what you were sorry for — perhaps everything.

The way it went down.

For not giving him any warning signs.

Leaving him with no closure at all.

If he was taking the heartbreak personally, you wouldn’t blame him because if he had done you the way you did him, you’d be avoiding him, too.

In defense, he avoided you first, ignoring phone calls where you wanted to check up on him and see how he was doing. Instead, you were met with Uncle Wayne’s voice telling you that the boy was busy — busying himself with trying to forget you.

“Who is it?”

You could hear him asking in the background, quickly covered up by his uncle clearing his throat trying to mask his nephew’s voice. It was then that you understood that things would never be the same, that Eddie couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you anymore because for him it was like torture.

But sometimes you’d imagine it would be different had you gone a different route with ending things with him. That maybe if you had let him down slowly you two would still be friends, maybe even the potential of getting back together someday.

Late nights since the breakup were spent dreaming up the scenarios where you and Eddie could co-exist—

“How are doing?” You asked honestly, reaching out a steady hand that you rested upon his watching the way his eyes flickered with content.

“Fine. I’m doing really fine.”

But then you wake up, the black and white in your dark bedroom and the empty spot beside you, a reminder that it wasn’t real, and it sure wasn’t forever. That you had left him unexpectedly with a flame without yours…leaving him on fire.

The sound of your landline ringing halted your undying pacing. Your stare burning a hole through the phone that rattled on your coffee table. It was nearly eleven, just an hour left before his birthday would be done and over with.

He was probably at the Hideout celebrating with his band, so it couldn’t possibly be him.

“H-hello?” You answered, kneeling at the table while one hand picked up the phone and the other held your forehead.

“Hey you, how is it going?”

Robin Buckley, the only person in Eddie’s life that still remained in yours, but from a distance. No in person hang outs or daily phone calls, just occasional check in’s to see how you were holding up because she knew that the breakup was still affecting you the way it was doing Eddie.

You sighed, shutting your eyes as your fingers rubbed your temples.

“I—I’m fine…you know, just hanging around. What about you?”

There wasn’t much energy you had left to try to convince her that you were doing something way more interesting than overthinking the night away. Despite you and her not being really close or acquainted, Robin was an expert at one thing, and that was reading between the lines and picking up on things.

She didn’t want to put you on the spot. To tell you that from your voice alone, she could tell you were lying through your teeth. She already knew it was hard enough already and her pointing it out would only make you feel worse.

So she cut to the chase.

“I saw Eddie tonight…at the Hideout for his birthday. Nance and I stopped by to buy him a few drinks and give him his present. He’s wasted. I mean just completely shit faced—”

You took a sharp breath in, squinting your eyes that were about to turn salty all over again.

“Why are you telling me this?”

It came out harsher than you wanted, but really the last thing you wanted to hear about was how Eddie was having such a blast without you there. Part of you wanted to think that he would relocate his birthday celebration, assuming it would bring up too much hurt partying in the place where he planned to do it with you.

There was a hitch in her breathing, probably partly taken aback by your tone, but she worked past that.

“I just thought you should know…”

Her voice teetered on the edge of wanting to say more, to tell you the full story, but she didn’t. She didn’t know if it was her place to tell you everything Eddie had said tonight, how his birthday celebration came to shit the second he got an ounce of tipsy.

“I appreciate it, Robin, but really, I’m—I’m over it, him,” you corrected, “I know he’s having fun.”

You didn’t mean to just hang up without allowing her to speak or say goodbye, but you couldn’t help it. One more second on the line with her and even just another word spoken of his name, then you were sure that you’d end up a crying mess with her consoling you through the phone.

You didn’t want to picture him half drunk happy, chugging down shots without a care in the world for the hangover he’d have the next morning. The way he’d have to wake up without someone taking care of him and holding his hair back as he’d throw up everything in his system. The thought of thinking about who was going to drive him home and get him back to the trailer safely.

It was sickening…the worrying thoughts that still lingered in your head when it came to him. How you shouldn’t even be concerned in the first place because he was an adult and capable of taking care of himself. Yet here you were still worrying, imagining the life you two would be living if you stayed in each other’s lives.

Even two years later this feeling didn’t budge and you were sure that if it kept up, it would be enough confirmation that you had made the biggest mistake of your life — letting your one true love slip through your fingers and now all that he would be was a painful reminder of the love you lost when you were younger.

And you were afraid that how it was going to stay.

You ran your fingers through your hair, giving the ends of them a particularly hard tug out of pure frustration and annoyance. Taking a deep breath, your hands ran down your thighs before you stood up and for the first time tonight you stopped pacing.

Instead, you began flipping the light switches off, ready to turn in for the night and accept the fact that wishing Eddie a happy birthday would do neither of you any good.

Reopening that wound would make it hurt more than it already was. Just because you were hurting and searching for that closure didn’t mean that he owed you that. He didn’t owe you the light of day, not even fifteen seconds of his time on a phone call.

It was already over and it was best you left it that way — to move on and keep trying to forget as everything just kept pulling you under.

You glanced back at your dim living room, fingers ready to pull on the beaded string on the lamp to make the whole place dark before you proceeded to walk towards your bedroom and sulk the night away, being greeted by the love of your life in your dream.

But instead, before the whole place could illuminate black and white, there was a knock at your door. One that pounded hard, almost banging, followed by grumbles on the other side of it.

“A—are you in there? I wanna…wanna talk!”

Another round of loud and noisy knocks and for a second you thought you were in a dream. Pinching your skin to try to wake you up from the horrible nightmare that was tormenting you and your frail little heart. But to no one’s surprise, it was real — more knocking and his garbled talking confirmed it.

Your feet moved quickly against the wooden floors, crossing the boundaries between the living room and entrance where you stood on the other side of the door, fingers moving nimbly to undo the lock and chain before you pulled it open.

There he was in the flesh, leaning up against your doorframe, lazily keeping himself steady. He reeked of alcohol and you weren’t sure if it was merely his deep breathing that pushed the sharp smell of vodka and whisky towards your nostrils — or if he had spilt a drink or two all over himself, but it was clear that he was wasted.

Just as Robin had told you — maybe even more.

You wanted to avoid eye contact, to try to focus your sights on somewhere other than his deep brown orbs that could see right through you, but it was futile. Immediately your eyes met, the stare lingering so intensely, speaking volumes in the most silent and torturous way possible.

Though he was intoxicated, he still knew you like the back of his hand. Could read every emotion that covered your face and even beneath the exterior that you tried to put on. He knew you had been crying.

The swollen skin around your eyes dropping them down and making them look sadder than usual.

The tip of your nose red from the constant sniffles and swipes of tissue.

The frown that remained on your face and the slight quiver of your top lip that indicated you were holding it back all over again.

“W-what are you doing here?” Your voice was small and gravelly, breaking harshly, and though you coughed to try to play it off, he still knew.

Eddie watched you. The way your arms crossed over your chest and you finally had the courage to flicker your sights away from him, looking down at his covered feet instead. Your fingers tips pinching and tightening on your skin awaiting his response.

“I don’t know…t—to say that I’m sorry.”

You pinched your brows together, snapping your head up to look at him, “Sorry? Sorry for what, exactly?”

He shrugged his shoulders as he frowned deep and shook his head like he didn’t even know why he was here standing in front of you.

“Before you left, you said sorry…b-but you didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

You didn’t know what to say, hell you didn’t even know if you had any words left to speak even if there was still so much left unspoken. You stood there, eyes glued to his droopy ones that blinked slowly before he finally leaned off the wood and took a step back further into the hallway.

He was stumbling over his feet, but you didn’t dare take a step forward to help him. Eddie didn’t need you to. He regained his balance with his head down, holding a finger out towards you in a sign for you to wait. To not shut the door and leave him out again.

“Why couldn’t you just…just let me fix it?”

He tumbled over his words, keeping his head low in an effort to not break down here right now, but he couldn’t help but look at you when all he got was silence.

You swallowed, biting your tongue while the tips of your fingers turned white from the harsh pinching, desperate to want to run away and hide even when this was all you wanted for the past two years.

“You didn’t even let me try. Do you know how much it h-hurts?”

The end of his question broke with his voice, a whimper and a crack that let you know that the salt would start pouring any second now. And it was the same for you, his figure now a blurry mess as you croaked and shook your head, still not speaking.

He jabbed his finger into his chest while his face scrunched up, almost turning red with the tears that began to pool in his eyes.

“I…I still love you and you were supposed to be there tonight. I kept hoping you would show up. T-that you didn’t forget—”

Your foot stomped against the floorboards as you finally let up on your arm and brought your hands up to your cheeks to whip the tears away.

“I didn’t forget, Eddie! How the hell could you think I could ever forget?”

Here you two stood yet again, resorting to this…whatever this was.

You didn’t try to shut the door or step back as he finally stepped closer, closing the space between the both of you and just leaving inches. His face was nearly nose to nose with you as you both stood there and breathed in everything.

The regret.

The longing.

The pain.

The loss.

The love that never left.

All of it flooding your senses and screaming at you to say everything that you had been bottling up. To release everything that you had taken with you under the waves of wicked currents in winless fights. That even if the lights were on or off, life without him was black and white, the cruelest kind of way to live because he showed you color that you could never see with anyone else.

And unlike the last time you and Eddie stood in front of each other, this time you didn’t pinch your eyes shut or move away from his hands that clutched your cheek. He didn’t have to be the love of your life inside your head when he was standing right before you.

“I missed you…and I’m sorry.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss

a/n: my first pure angst feel kinda fic that i've written! i don't have a part 2 planned for this yet, but maybe i'll write one depending on how i am feeling and what i think the future would look like for reader and eddie!! i love "21" by gracie and this song just screamed eddie vibes...i hope you guys like it!!!

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Stumbled across this blog and ah, my heart is blessed! If you’re still taking request, is it possible for you to have Ticci Toby, Masky, Hoody, EJ, and Jeff celebrating the teen!reader’s (kinda like unofficial siblings) birthday?

So many sibling asks lately!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

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

Masky

Tim's never been a birthday guy, but he wants yours to be special

And so, he wakes up a little earlier than usual, throws on some clothes, and hops into his car to go to the store

He picks up your favorite cake mix, your favorite icing, and last but not least, your gift

He then heads home and begins to set everything up

He bakes the cake as best he can, and it actually doesn't look half bad

He throws on some candles, and then gets to work on wrapping your gift

By the time he is done, it is late enough into the morning that you should be awake

He walks up to your room and knocks, when he receives no response he opens your door and finds you sound asleep

He walks over to your bed and shakes you gently

"Hey, wake up" he mutters to you

As you begin to wake up, he tells you to close your eyes as he leads you to the kitchen

Once in the kitchen, he uncovers your eyes

You smile at the scene around you

"Do you like it?" He asks, still standing behind you

You nod and go to sit at the table

He lights the candles and brings you your cake "make a wish" he says, leaning against a chair next to you

You think for a moment, before blowing out your candles and smiling at your wish

Tim stands and grabs a knife "alright, since its your birthday you get the first slice. I also cant promise that it'll still be here by the time you come back for more, you know how Toby and BEN are." He says with a chuckle as he cuts you a slice

You eat your cake cheerily and open your gift, before heading back up to your room to plan what you wanna do for the rest of the day

Hoodie

Hoodie loves birthdays

He ends up being the party planner for most birthdays because of how well he coordinates them

So when your birthday comes up, he gets super excited

He'll decorate your entire room while you're asleep

Streamers, banners, balloons, you name it, it's there

After he's done decorating he goes and makes you a homemade cake with your favorite flavors of icing and mix

He then goes out and buys your favorite snacks and drinks for your mini party

And he's already had your gifts for months now, just waiting to be given to you

When you wake up, he suprises you with your favorite breakfast in bed

Then its onto the gifts

And in the afternoon, you get your cake!

Accompanied by some of the creeps you are close with, singing you happy birthday

Speaking of the other creeps

Expect to get lots of "happy birthday y/n!" Alllllll day

Yeah, brian has not stopped ranting about how excited he is

So now almost the entire manor is aware of your special day

You might even get some more gifts from those who are close to you!

Eyeless Jack

He's not super huge into birthdays either, but since your his sibling, he'll make an exception for you

He makes a quick run to the grocery store, getting a premade cake and a few decorations

He then gets permission from slender to reserve the picnic table in the garden all afternoon for just you, him, and a few other friends of yours

He sets the cake, few decorations and drinks up, and then goes to get you

Honestly his gift would probably be a book 💀

"You can never learn too much"

Don't worry, all your friends bring you gifts too

Ones you'll actually use

Definetly the most boring one to celebrate your special day with

Im sorry 💀

Jeff the Killer

Jeff gets really excited about birthdays

Usually his most excited about his own

But he makes an exception for you and Liu

His parties are kind of half assed though

He gets a store bought cake and just grabs something random for a gift

"Oh wow jeff thank you! its a....app controlled heated blanket??"

"I saw it and thought of you 🫶"

Liu is more thoughftul

He gets you something you actually want

And if he isn't sure what you want, he just gives you a bunch of cash so you can get whatever you want

Jeff would also be adamant that you go out on your birthday

He knows you're only a teen, but he would love to take you out to a concert

Which if course, teens can go to concerts

But the older members of the manor aren't exactly too fond of the idea

He doesn't care though

Fuck those old people

Hed totally get you tons of merch

You'd come back really late at night, totally partied out

But boy was it fun

Ticci Toby

Toby gets really excited for your birthday

Since youre the only family he has left, he wants to make sure that your special day is, well...special!

He gets a ton of decorations ahead of time, as well as a bunch of gifts (as many as he can afford)

The day of, he will spend the entire morning making sure you stay out of the ballroom while he and a few other creeps decorate

He goes all put throwing an amazing party for you, making sure it would be up to your standards

He invites all of his and your friends to come celebrate with you

He tries to make a cake, but hes not a good baker so it turns out a little ugly

But other than that the party is perfect!

All of the attending creeps sing you happy birthday, and you almost drown in a sea of gifts

Also, so many pictures are taken

So many

By toby himself, and other creeps

[thiswasinevitableid]

Not Alone (Sternclay)

One of the whumpcember winners was "you're not alone." In the original prompt list this was the "comfort" option, but none of the options I came up with in that vein were clicking. So, this ended up set in the same universe as this vigilante Stern Au.

This fill is NSFW, and because of the AU this roleplay is pretty intense; it's cnc, although it's made clear early on this is an agreed on and consented to scene they've been planning.

Barclay guides the car up the small, northwoods road, relieved when the dark green cabin finally appears around a corner. The trees are snow-dusted, the smoke from the chimney is a welcoming curl, and there’s no sign of anyone for miles. 

Just like he hoped for.

He pulls up next to the wooden porch, hurrying into the mud room and punching in the code the owner gave him. Waiting for him is an open living room with comfy chairs and couches, all in warm tones. The light from the fireplace casts amber across the walls, and the kitchen is as cozy and well-stocked as promised. 

Footsteps on the stairs make him jump, and he turns to find a tall man with dark hair standing on the bottom step. 

“You must be Mr. Cobb.” The man’s smile is polite, “I’m Joseph, the owner. I mean to be out before you got here, but the last visitors left a more chaotic mess than I expected. I’m almost done, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No rush. And thanks for going the extra mile. I’m gonna go grab my stuff from the car.”

He brings in his dufflebag, manages to pull his snow boots off without making a mess, and looks up in time to see Joseph giving him a subtle once-over as he carries new towels upstairs. 

“Is it just you?”

“Nah, my boyfriend is meeting me up here when he’s done with work. We wanted to get away from the city. Get some space, y’know?”

A small laugh, “Well you’ll have more than enough here. Usually I rent to family reunions and things like that.” He brushes his hands off on his slacks, “That was the last of it. My number is on the fridge and I live in town, so if anything goes haywire, give me a call.”

“Thanks” Barclay shows him to the door. As he rests his hand on the side of it, Joseph sets his own on top of his knuckles.

“I hope you two enjoy the solitude.”

“I think we will.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Can I ask you something?” 

Barclay looks up back from packing up the beard trimmer to where Joseph is perched on the bed, “Yeah?”

“Are you still interested in me being more…menacing when I’m roleplaying Sir?”

Blood heads south at the idea, but Barclay knows the voice Joseph uses when a hypothetical acts as foreplay, and this isn’t it. 

“Fuck yeah.” He joins him on the bedspread, “but only if you’re fucking positive you’ll be okay with it. I think it’d be hot as fuck to be even more at your mercy, but I can also live the rest of my life with that being exactly that: a fantasy.” He takes Joseph’s hands, “what I’m trying to say is, if you wanna do it, we can. If you don’t, we don’t.”

His boyfriend raises his hand and kisses his knuckles, “That helps a lot. Thank you.”

Barclay rests his head on his shoulder, “Are you interested in it?”

A smile, sweet and earnest, utterly unlike the edge that enters Joseph’s voice as he murmurs, “You know, big guy, I think I am.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay unpacks the groceries for the weekend into the fridge, then settles in with his knitting by the fire. Thacker’s been teaching him how, and he wants to make him a thank-you gift.

On the way to the kitchen to refill his tea, his phone buzzes.

J: Running late. There by dinner.

Snow falls gently outside the window, forming  lacework on the roof of a small shed in the backyard. The storm wasn’t supposed to start until tomorrow. He wouldn’t mind–in fact, he thinks snow is romantic–but his boyfriend still has to make it here. 

Barclay: Ok, drive safe. Love you.

He passes the rest of the afternoon reading, knitting, and napping. When he wakes up under a tartan blanket, the world outside is dark except for the occasional swirl of white past the windows. 

Barclay: ETA? I can wait to have dinner until you get here.

While he waits for the response, wanders the perimeter of the living room, taking in the eerie view. There’s no light from any direction, and when he cracks the window the only sound is the storm. 

Weird, the windows don’t have any curtains on them. 

A flicker from the backyard catches his eye. He swears a light comes on in the shed, just for a moment. When he turns to look more closely, it’s gone. Maybe he should go look, just in case that’s a sign the breaker is about to go or something. 

He nearly drops the phone when it vibrates in his hand. 

J: Had to stop at a hotel to be safe. See you tomorrow. 

Barclay looks at the message, then back out at the shed. Still no light. He probably just caught a weird reflection from the house. There’s no reason for anyone but him to be out here. He’s alone.

For now.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time they try it, Barclay can barely walk the rest of the night. He’s exhausted, a kind of boneless he didn’t know a person could be, and been through such an adrenaline rush that even if his muscles can move him, his brain suggests staying flat on the bed.

After helping him up long enough to shower, Joseph indulges him with glee. He’s wrapped up and tucked in, caressed, pet, and kissed whenever he asks. Plied with nice tea and even nicer bourbon, brought a meal from his favorite New American place in town on a tray. 

“I have to remind you how I really feel.” Joseph murmurs at one point, kissing the bruises from where Barclay fought the cuffs.

“Mission fucking accomplished. But, uh” he catches Joseph's hands, holding them between their chests, “this whole night has been that. It means so fucking much to me that you trust me to do this with you, and that you’re the kinda guy trust enough to let it happen. I love you so fucking much. And I know you love me, too.”

Joseph looks at him, relief burning bright in his eyes, and leans in for a kiss. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay goes to bed around 9:30. 

At 10, he hears something in the house. Disoriented, he sits up, listening as close as he can. Maybe it was just snow sliding off the roof, or a breaking branch. 

Just under the howl of the storm, he picks up the scuffs and quiet creaks of someone moving around downstairs. 

It’s impossible. There’s no one here, no way for anyone to even get here given how blanketed the backroads must all be. He can relax. 

Another noise. Maybe footsteps. Maybe the house settling. 

“Fuck it” he groans, pushing away the blankets and climbing out of bed. He’s 6’3 and plenty strong; if some random person is breaking into the building, he likes his odds of chasing them off. 

Not that there’s anyone here. 

He creeps down the stairs, flicking on the lights in each room. There’s nothing weird in sight, and the doors and windows are all locked, just like when he went to bed. 

Relieved, and somewhat annoyed, that it was his imagination, he heads back to bed. It really was ridiculous, thinking anyone could be in here but him. Hell, the only people who know he’s here are his boyfriend and the owner. 

His steps slow as he reaches the bedroom. 

The owner, who knew it’d just be two people here. The owner who wouldn’t need to break a window or find an unlocked door to get in. 

The owner who said goodbye this afternoon, only now that he’s thinking back, Barclay doesn’t remember hearing a car pulling away. 

“Fuck” He hisses, turning and ready to bolt out of the house and into his car. 

The bedroom door swings closed, and Joseph leans against it with a mildly pleased expression as he watches Barclay jerk to a stop. 

“I wouldn’t leave if I were you. It’s dangerous out there.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Aggressively as he dares, Barclay steps toward him. The other man has traded his cozy sweater for a black, long-sleeved shirt, and his hair is slicked back instead of loose.

“You tell me. You strike me as smart. Enough.”

“I’m sure as fuck smarter than you. If anything happens to me, you really think the owner of the place isn’t gonna be a prime suspect.”

“I agree. Which is why I’m not actually the owner. They live all the way in Chicago, and rarely send someone out to check on this place unless a large group just left.”

His heart slithers up his throat, “My boyfriend knows I’m here, too. He’s getting in later tonight.”

A casual shake of the head, “We both know that’s not true.”

Joseph reaches into his pocket and tosses a phone Barclay’s way. He recognizes the case, dotted with silhouettes of bigfoot, instantly. 

“What did you do to him?” Barclay whispers. 

“Nothing you need to worry about.” A cruel glint enters his eye, “and it’s not polite to lie, big guy.”

Barclay fights the urge to throw the phone at him and instead rushes the door. Joseph does jump aside, but before Barclay can even touch the nob, his back slams into the wood and a knife is at his throat. The blade feels suspiciously like plastic, but he freezes just to be safe.

“It’s not polite to run, either. Not when I’ve gone to all this trouble to plan an evening for you.”

“Fuck you” he gasps as Joseph’s other hand fists into his hair and pulls.

“Let me make one thing very clear. This is happening, no matter what you do. But how it ends depends entirely on how well-behaved you can be for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” He whimpers.

The hand leaves his hair and the knife disappears,“Good boy. Go stand by the bed.”

He obeys, unable to take his eyes off Joseph as the intruder strolls to the closet and pulls out a small, black briefcase from behind the laundry hamper. Setting it on the dresser, he turns back to Barclay with a calculating look, then strides over and pulls his sleep-shirt roughly over his head. Instead of removing it entirely, he twists and knots the fabric until Barclay’s arms are trapped behind his back.

“Lay down. Good boy.” 

Barclay wishes he didn’t blush at the pet name, wishes Joseph didn’t notice. He braces to be insulted, but all the other man does is trace a finger over his reddening cheek. 

“Such a gorgeous specimen.” He pulls on black, latex gloves and climbs onto the bed. The hunger in his eyes makes it clear what he’s after, and so Barclay doesn’t bother fighting him when he pulls down his sweatpants and sets them aside. 

“I’m starting to see” a gloved finger teases up one thigh and down the other, “why your boyfriend didn’t even hesitate to get out of the car when I blocked the road. He was too busy thinking about this to even wonder if it was a trap.” His palm glides up Barclays dick, wrapping loosely around the tip as Barclay groans and forces his hips to stay still. 

Joseph studies his face as he strokes him again and again, mercifully not commenting on how quickly Barclay got it up. 

“You don’t have to keep still, big guy. I want you to enjoy this.”

“N-no you don’t.” Barclay whines is a thumb rubs the tip, “this is some fucked up game that’s all for you, you don’t give a fuck about me.”

“On the contrary.” Joseph shifts positions, drags his tongue along Barclays shaft, “you’re a captivating specimen.”

Barclay moans, the noise going embarrassingly high as Joseph takes his cock into his mouth. He works deliberately, expertly, as if his only goal in life is to make Barclay cum down his throat. Logic tells him to twist away, to not give in, but all he can do is spread his legs wider and make pleading sounds as Joseph plays with his ass, thighs, and balls. 

“Fuck, oh fuck” his shoulders and hips jerk as his orgasm barrels toward him, “sir please, please-”

He cums, shaking and bucking into Joseph’s mouth. The other man is unbothered, happily sucking him through it until he softens. 

The intruder sits back, carefully wiping his lips, “What do you say?”

Being polite seems the path to safety, so he pants, “Thank, thank you, sir.” 

Joseph stands, returning to the briefcase. Barclay can’t see the contents, but silver catches the light and he shrinks back.

“Are you thinking that now that I’ve had my fun, I’m going to remove it?” The tone is too businesslike to be comforting. 

He nods, panicked, and tries to squirm backwards on the bed.

“I won’t say I’ve never done that, but it’s not my plan for you.” Joseph turns, revealing a pair of satin, blue, lacy boxers, “I want to put my favorite toy in an appropriate case.” 

Barclay feels the blush run from his toes to his scalp, sighs happily in spite of himself as the fabric slides into place. 

“Color?” Joseph helps him sit up, undoing the knots in his shirt enough to remove it the rest of the way. 

“Not sure I could be greener.”

A sweet kiss to his shoulder, “Me too.”

The next kiss is followed by a scrape of teeth on his skin, “Let’s go downstairs. This next part will be much nicer by the fireplace.”

“N-next part?”

“I didn’t go to all this trouble to just fuck you once.” Joseph stands, tossing him a flannel shirt, “you can put that on if you’re cold, but don’t button it.”

“Yes, sir.” 

He wishes Joseph had put him on a leash, so he’d have some excuse for following someone who will probably kill him through the house like a puppy. 

Barclay stands patiently on the rug as Joseph stokes the fire back to life, wondering if he’ll burn him and hating how his cock twitches at the idea. 

“Get on your stomach, on the rug.” Joseph stays kneeling, waiting for Barclay to fully comply before getting up and roaming around the room. The rug is sheepskin, and between it and the fire he feels luxuriously warm. If his brain wasn’t so intent on tracking Joseph’s movements, he’d just fall asleep right here.

Blues music drifts over from the speaker in the kitchen as Joseph returns and straddles his hips. There’s a click and an acrid smell, then the tip of a marker tracing an abstract shape along his lower back. The hand not busy drawing runs along Barclay’s spine and into his hair, petting him in idle swoops and swirls. 

“What’re you drawing?” Barclay asks as the marks start on his thigh.

“It’s force of habit more than anything else, but here, set your arm out and I’ll show you.”

He lays his right arm out. Joseph brings the marker up, tracing thin, black lines along his hands and up his arms. It feels nice, almost tickles, and he lets his eyes fall closed until Joseph is done. 

“That should give you the gist of it.”

Barclay turns his head and brings his right hand in toward his face. His stomach twists; the marks aren’t random. They’re the outlines of tendons, muscle groups, and veins. 

Before he can scramble back or try to throw Joseph off him, a hand closes around the back of his neck. 

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Try to keep you from fucking carving me up like a fucking stake?” He yelps as Joseph hauls him up and back by his hair, forcing him to kneel. 

“I’m not going to cut you. Unless you forget your manners again, in which case I may find some minor muscle to slice.” Joseph growls in his ear, “I do this out of habit and, when it comes to you, to show you what I’m capable of. What I’m choosing not to do to my perfect specimen. Now, are you going to go back to being my sweet, obedient Barclay?”

“Yes, sir.” Tears prick his eyes as Joseph gives a final tug on his hair. 

“Get up and take those off. Then come sit in my lap.”

Barclay shakily pulls down his underwear and wobbles to the chair Joseph is waiting in. The instant he sits down, there’s a pop of plastic and Joseph is dripping lube onto his gloved fingers. 

“Sir? Oh, oh fuck, fuck!” He groans and rests his head against Joseph’s shoulders as fingers work into him with rough, precise presses. 

“Yes? Use your words, big guy.”

“Wh-why are you doing this?”

“Because I can” the fingers push deeper, “no one can stop me. No one ever figures it out. And, in your case, because taking you apart makes me feel like this.” He drags one of Barclay’s hands down to his crotch, where his cock is fighting against his zipper. 

He presses Barclay’s hand closer, grinding against it, “Get my cock out.”

Barclay barely manages it with his shaking fingers. Watches, rapt, as Joseph slicks himself up before unceremoniously pulling Barclay to him and shoving him down, moaning as Barclay yelps and writhes at the intrusion. The action is so unlike his precision the rest of the night, and Barclay is flattered that the thought of fucking him is what drove it. 

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll give you a moment to adjust. I still need to finish” he produces the pen, setting it against Barclay’s chest, “you know, this makes it all the easier to appreciate your body. To see the tantalizing shape of these” he follows the path of Barclays pecs, pinching each nipple when he’s done, “and to find the muscle hidden by this wonderful forest of fur.” He cards his fingers through the hair on Barclay’s chest and stomach as the marker continues its movements. 

Barclay is going to cry; something about the way Joseph is talking, the way the detachment in his gaze is giving way to wonder and affection. The way he feels like he’s burning at every spot where their bodies meet. 

“Then there’s all this” the pen traces over his navel in calculated strokes, “it’s not the only reason I decided to keep you alive, but I suspect it’s what will help you stay that way down the line.” He caps the pen, tapping it roughly against Barclays still-soft cock. 

Barclay sobs, which turns to a cry halfway through as Joseph holds him down by his hips and fucks up into him. 

“It’s okay, big guy, cry as much as you want, I don’t care, I’ll never think less of you for it. How could I? You look so, ohmygod, so pretty when you do it. And you like when I make you do it, don’t you?”

“Yes!” He catches himself, “yes, sir”

“Good boy. My Barclay, my perfect specimen, god, from the second I saw you I knew this is where you’d end up, victims are a dime a dozen, but a specimen, a real prize, how could I do anything else but make sure you’d only be mine from here on out, ohshit, ohmygod, Barclay” Joseph pulls him down into a kiss, cumming into him with a muffled moan. 

Barclay tries to pull back for breath and nearly topples out of his lap. Joseph loops his arms around his waist, laughing quietly, “Careful, big guy, at least let me pull out first.”

“Sorry. Can’t help it. Some super hot guy just blew my mind and I forgot how muscles work.”

He manages to get out of Joseph's laugh, but they only make it as far as the rug before both sitting down. Joseph flops into his arms, and Barclay cuddles him close. 

“Seriously, I cannot stress how fucking hot that was.”

His boyfriend grins up at him, “Oh good. I was a little worried you’d get bored during the day. That little shed office really is quite cozy. I finished two of my TBR pile.”

“You’ll have to show me tomorrow. Now c’mon, let’s try to make it upstairs” He scoops Joseph almost into a bridal carry before they both dissolve into giggles. Eventually they do make it to bed, talking until they fall asleep, cuddled up together beneath the snowy roof.vig

[fox2656]

The Stillness (Part 1)

Jake and Alex raced along the mountain road. They were late in getting to the cabin they were supposed to be staying at.

Jake fidgeted with the strap of his favorite tattered orange sling pack, which was sitting at his feet. He felt like he was going to have a panic attack. Alex was taking these curves with way too much speed. "Slow down, Alex," Jake said, trying not to reach for the handle. He always got teased for grabbing the handle when someone else was driving.

"Well if someone hadn't turned off the alarm..." Alex glared as he drove.

"Well I didn't think I was going to sleep that late. You know I'm always up earlier than you when I sleep on the floor." Jake looked guilty, knowing it really was his fault they were late.

The clouds were a steely gray, blotting out the sun. An ominous foreshadowing of the storm that was to come later that night. It had snowed the day before in this area, but only lightly. The real storm was forecast to come that night.

"I'm sorry," Alex said, easing off the gas. He was still furious with Jake, but he decided to give him some slack. "Did you bring anything useful at least?"

"I brought a couple of books I need for studying." Jake turned to grab his favorite one from the back seat.

"Wasn't this supposed to be a relaxing weekend?" Alex sighed.

"Yeah well, I saw that you had packed your laptop and some computer parts, so I grabbed my books. Plus, if anything happens, I should be able to... Ha!" Jake pulled out a tattered book that looked like it was from the stone age. It had been re-bound multiple times. This time in a green leather that was starting to crack with age.

"Really?" Alex said. "I think those remedies went out last century."

"Yeah, yeah," Jake said, opening the book. "I plan to cross reference. Apothecary work is constantly changing, but this has been pretty reliable so far. How far away are we, anyway?"

"Should be there in about twenty minutes," Alex said, checking his phone. He had to resist the urge to stretch. Being in the car for five and a half hours was taking its toll. Alex hoped that this cabin would be worth the drive. Work had been stressful.

"We're definitely going to get cookies at the grocery store, right," Jake said, a little too loud.

Alex flinched at Jake's sudden loud question. He looked over at Jake, scowling. "Don't do that."

Jake smiled awkwardly, and they passed the remainder of the trip in silence.

Alex sighed, feeling guilty for snapping at Jake. He was feeling grumpy from the long drive, and he also hadn't had anything to eat all day, because they were in such a rush. It was already late afternoon, and neither boys had had anything at all to eat all day.

The cabin was a lot smaller than they had expected. It belonged to their friend Ryan's family. Ryan had really talked up the cabin, making it sound much more elegant and grand than it really was.

Ryan had described a sprawling cabin, with tons of room. It was actually a one room cabin though. Alex couldn't help but think that maybe Ryan hadn't been there since he was a kid.

"Well this is just great," Alex grumbled as he pushed his car door open and stepped out. "I'm going to kill Ryan."

"This isn't so bad," Jake said, putting his arm around Alex's shoulders, trying to comfort him. "It's...cozy."

Alex just rolled his eyes and grabbed one of his bags from the car. "Come on, let's just get our stuff inside. I want to go get supplies and get everything settled in, before the storm hits."

Jake grabbed a bag from the car and they headed into the cabin. The inside was even smaller than they both expected. There was a couch, a bed, fireplace, a wood stove in one corner, a pail for water, lots of candles, and a bookcase.

" Uhhh," Jake said, looking around. "Where's the TV?"

Alex groaned. "That's what I was afraid of. This place doesn't have power. Let alone running water."

Jake looked horrified. "Does that mean if we have to go, we have to..." He trailed off, letting his thought hang in the still air.

Alex walked over to a window near the back of the cabin. "Nope. Looks like there's an outhouse out back. Lovely."

"Geez," Jake said. "When was this place built? Like 1700?"

"Shut up, Jake," Alex said, rubbing his eyes. "Let's just get everything inside."

Alex walked back out to the car and grabbed another bag. As he turned back around, he saw Jake standing in the doorway of the cabin, holding a book bound in red leather.

"Hey Alex, look at this. I think it's about some knight king." Jake held up the book, and Alex could see a 'K' emblazoned on the cover.

"Ah, great," Alex said as he brushed past Jake. "You can read me to sleep by candlelight tonight. Now go get some stuff. I want to go get groceries."

Jake sat down on the couch and started reading a little bit of the book, completely absorbed in the book.

"Jake," Alex said in frustration.

"In a minute," Jake said, without looking up.

Alex walked over and closed the book, taking it from Jake. "Stuff. Now."

"Hey, I was reading that. How am I supposed to know where I was now?" Jake looked miffed.

Alex looked sternly at Jake. "You can read more when we go out to get supplies."

Jake groaned and reluctantly got up off the couch and headed outside to grab a couple of bags from the car, groaning the whole way.

"Hey Alex? Isn't it supposed to only snow tonight?" Jake's voice shuddered with worry. He held up a hand to try and catch one of the snowflakes falling from the sky.

Alex felt his stomach drop as he went to the door of the cabin. As he watched, the flakes of snow started falling faster and faster.

"Hurry up Jake," Alex shouted as he rushed out to the car and started helping Jake bring things in. Why had they brought so much for just one weekend?

They got everything in, just as the wind started to howl.

Jake looked nervous as the walls creaked from the force of the wind. He wasn't good with strong storms, and being in an unfamiliar setting didn't help. "A-Alex?"

"It's okay Jake," Alex said, putting an arm around Jake and pulled him close, hoping to comfort his best friend. "We'll be okay. It's just wind."

Jake shuddered as there was a bang from outside in the forest.

Alex led Jake over to the couch. He pulled the big blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Jake.

"I'll get a fire going. Just calm down," Alex said, sitting Jake down.

Alex calmly worked on the fire until it was crackling nicely. Then he lit a few candles and sat down beside Jake.

Jake was once again reading the book he had found earlier. He seemed completely absorbed, so Alex gently tugged on the edge of the blanket. Jake looked up and smiled, standing up and unwrapping the blanket from around himself. He sat back down, closer to Alex, and he covered both of them up with the blanket, before he went back to reading.

A silence settled on the cabin, punctuated by Jake turning pages in the book, the sound of the wind howling outside, and the occasional growl of the boys stomachs. There was also another, intermittent sound. It was faint, almost imperceptible. Like branches scraping along the sides of the cabin. He attributed it to branches brushing up against the cabin, but he couldn't remember seeing any trees that close.

"Hey Alex, do you..." Jake stopped himself as he looked over at his best friend. Alex was asleep, his head lolling back onto the couch.

Jake carefully pulled the blanket off himself and Alex, doing his best to be silent, and not wake him. Jake stood up and gently reached under Alex, lifting him. Jake grunted with the effort, his muscles protesting more than usual. "Geez Alex, you weigh a ton."

Alex didn't wake. He simply rolled his head towards Jake's chest and scrunched his eyes tight in his sleep.

Jake felt a warmth grow in his chest. He knew that he was getting weak because he was so hungry. There was nothing he could do about that now though. Hopefully the road would be clear enough for them to drive out in the morning.

Jake lay Alex down on the bed, and covered him with a warm blanket. Then Jake went back and tossed a few logs on the fire and stoked it until it was burning nicely. He then lay down on the couch and covered himself up.

[theobsessiveloser18]

Headcanons of being the best person in Robby's life

•It turns out that you were going back to your house with grocery bags and the stream flowed into you, not that serious, it just collided with you and you fell to the ground, and the bags spilled over, in short, all chaos

•He had the opportunity to keep running, he didn't, he decided to help you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see you, are you alright ma'am?”Picked up and arranged the content that had come out of the bags

“Calm down kid, nothing serious, just try to look where you're running.” He gave a nervous laugh

“I'll keep that in mind” he was about to leave,But an angry man grabbed his arm and shook him.

“You won't get away with that sewer rat”

“Let me go I don't know”

“I will release you after you pay me or after the police come for you”

“Hey sir, let him go, what's wrong with him?”

“This brat robbed me” and I snatched a packet of chips from his hands

“In other words, you made such a fuss over a miserable bag of potatoes, suddenly they would have stolen the money from the box, but a bag of potatoes seriously, ¿how desperate does he have to be to chase and Insult a child for 3 dollars?”

“If it's so little that he pay”

“I will pay him” both men were quite surprised as you took out your bill

“And it's 7 dollars”

“Fine, have 10, it shows that you need” the boy laughed at your comment ,and the man left but not before saying goodbye to you with a cordial “bitch”

“Thanks, but I didn't have to”

“I don't think you would have robbed and run if you were just going to pay 2 minutes later” he ducked a little embarrassed

“It doesn't matter, you apologized and helped me picking up the bags, we're even, can you give me my packages? the sofa is waiting for me”

“oh yes i'm sorry”

“You apologize too much...Nice” You were about to leave but at that moment your ankle pain started to appear, curse yourself a bit for how inopportune it was

“Alright?”

“Yeah, I just sprained my ankle the other day, and you know, not all doctors believe that an abnormal lump is a sprain, and if they're not going to take your problems seriously, you don't have to. Seriously your recommendations” He laugh a little “This is good advice Can I help you with the purchases?” You have not been as surprised as now for a long time, normally you would not let an unknown teenager help you or talk to you, but what did it matter you did not want to load the purchases so you accepted

•When I get to your house I give you the purchases, it was the right time to say goodbye, but it was very hot, the way to your house was not short, and if you were sweating and you had only loaded a small amount of pesos, you got an idea of ​​how tired he could be,

“Do you like lemonade?”

the teenager broke into your house, and even went to the trouble of organizing your purchases in the cabinets and fridge

“well, I'm officially being robbed, God willing I'm not something worse happened to me”

You ended up preparing a snack for him, and he left your house at 2 in the afternoon, it was quite a pleasant time, the only thing you regretted was not being able to wear a bra at home

•They met several times, and they spent time together, sometimes he would come to your house without warning and you had to put your plans aside because you weren't slamming the door in a guy's face What did that vine have?

"Calm down, think about what would happen when leaving the family home, if you had a younger brother with whom you get along well”

•Meet Daniel Larusso, your much-mentioned sensei, a nice man but you wanted to meet his daughter, if it meant Robby would stop talking about her in sleep

•It turns out that one day Robby ended up meeting your workplace,and he understood why you defended him when they met in your shovels

“Being a cashier in the United States sucks, and the most horrible part of having an arrogant bum as your boss who inherits daddy's business, is having to see how the humblest people mistreat youth for Follow the paths that they have assigned to you by forsaking them”

A somewhat confusing speech, but well he accepted it The point is that he knew where you worked and visits you several times a month,

“Y/N your son has arrived”

"Don't bother bald fool, hello lad" You gave him a kiss on the hair and he went for his chair

"Don't use family terms when he's here, he's going to be frustrated."

“Then stop treating him like your fucking son" a colleague stuck her nose in

"I can't treat him like a son because I don't know what it's like to have one" you refrained from yelling at him but the irritation was evident in your voice "At most I'll treat him like a little brother and I don't know what it's like to have one either"

•Your Coworkers don't trust him at all, the first thing they thought when he entered the store was that 'he was a punk who was a fan of the Joker', and that they would be lucky if he left without killing them.

“You shouldn't let him play so close to the cash register.”

"Tell her what you really mean, he shouldn't be here, he's putting our jobs at risk."

“I can't go back to court, not even to testify, the judge warned me"

"I thought we had made that part clear, he is in my charge, whatever breaks, dirty, steals, or hides comes out of my pocket"

“And hope she stops being a criminal, being her sugar mommy" commented the classmate you couldn't bear the least, you threw a magazine at her head, and surprisingly no one messed with you for the rest of the day

•Robby helps you at work when he visits, that lessened the mistrust of your colleagues a bit, but not entirely the gossips, idle, liar and unscrupulous continue to watch him, mean half of them to be more precise

•He met his father right in the store, it was chaotic, you had to intervene

"I understand that you have many personal problems but I don't want any crane kick here"

"Who the hell is she?"

“Y/N!”

"How could such a short answer answer my question"

"Look at our relationship, you don't have labels, it's a bit difficult to explain, but don't open your eyes like that, I'm not intimate with him, I'm not a degenerate"

"Y/N" Robby yelled at the laughter of his father who was turning red as a tom.

"I'm sorry, you know that I don't think before I speak, what a shame, what I want to tell you, sir, is that he and I have nothing to do with it, I literally changed his diapers...Is there a way he misconstrued that?

“There is but I think he got the point"

“Your friend it's too funny to be a girl” You looked at him with an expression that was too clownish, which didn't make it clear that you were offended and said in a humorous tone

“That was sexist, but hey we're laughing, the dispute is over right?

“No, it's at its peak" replied Robby trying to pounce on the man, you stopped him in time

"Stay there sprinter, I just said, no beatings at the venue, not in its surroundings if they want to shout at each other like hermits they will do it 17 kilometers away from here, and if you come back here, I don't want to see Signs that you have hit your father”

"In your dreams girl, I was a 2-time champion of Al Valley, he doesn't have a chance to hit me."

“that's going to look old”

"My God, the karate fighters are going to end my non-existent mental health, out now"

“your new mommy is heated”You and Robby made a real scandal,The man winked at you before leaving

“What's wrong with you dude?

•Much to Robby's dismay, you and his father started dating, as a defense on your behalf, it took a long time before the man was finally able to call your attention.

•But Robby was furious, he didn't want to know anything about the two of you, especially about you, when you finally managed to get him to talk to you, he exploded.

“I can't believe it Y/N of all the people in the world you decide to go out with You decide it's a good idea to flirt with him ”

“I understand that angry Robby but-

"You don't understand anything, you don't know him, he's a fucking coward, now everything could be fantastic for you, but at your happiest moment he will leave you, they are reasons without explanations, he just ran away Like a fucking Nazi traitor, and you'll be so disappointed you won't know you'll have nothing better to do than cry, get depressed, and get stuck in life.”

“Okay Robby you're saying too many words that I can't process"small tears threatened to come out of both their eyes "the one who talks a lot here is me, okay" you said with a sad laugh But it didn't have any effect on Robby, he just looked away trying to hold back his tears "You have no right to lecture me like you're my parents I know what I'm doing, I'm a 28-year-old adult who That she makes stupid decisions that sometimes destroy her, but that other times have resulted in wonderful opportunities, like meeting you."You said that last in a sweeter tone and Robby sobbed.At this rate you were already crying "and I hope that going out with your father is one of those, why doesn't it matter about us, okay, I'm not important, he will continue with his life, he will continue drinking, he will continue Wishing to go back to the 80s to try to improve what has already been done, and will continue to fight for no reason, but in the midst of all that He will keep trying with you because he cares about you... he cares a lot about you, more than your mother, more than the dojo, more than Miguel, more than me, more than you think And even if you hate him and he is tired of trying to get people to reject him, he is not giving up on you, because you are his son and he is not doing this for me, nor because I am inspired or encouraged, it is What he's always wanted to do, and he's confident he can do it now, and I think he'll do it, okay?" You wiped away your tears and started to smile "he'll do it and it'll be wonderful, and they'll do all the things that That a father and children do, they will watch TV together, they will have breakfast, he will show you photos of when he was young, you will have uncomfortable talks about sex “y/n enough” "It's going to be like this Robby, trust me, well you can't do it I understand" "No Y/N will not happen" he shook his head and works to appear calm now that the sob had disappeared and red eyes appeared in its place "It will happen, because no one can stop a man who grew up with the motivation of Rocky Balboa acting in a porn movie"both laughed you dried your tears“Seriously, Robby, better times are coming, and this shouldn't change things for you, because even if your dad and I break up tomorrow or I tie him up in a rope and make him marry me, I will never make you On the one hand, you are very important to me, more than him, lately more than anyone I knowThe boy rushed to hug you more tightly than a person would use for a hug, but in a way it means peace.

Peace had been

"You've never been good at being serious, have you?" you laughed with traces Tears on your face, you clung more to his back

You know me well”

The I finish and Johnny came to the living room eating the burritos That Carmen had given him

“Problems?” He asked with his mouth full, they both looked at him disgusted.

“If what she is too cool to date you” “thank you” replied Johnny as if nothing you and the boy exchanged confused glances for a few seconds before laughing as if there was no tomorrow

Johnny smiled satisfied things were going to be better

[thedaveandkimmershow]

DAYS 3 & 4

(the one where we relax… and then go home)

Saturday morning, we're awake by 830 with no inclination to get outta bed. So basically it takes most of the morning to get outta bed.

Between ten and noon we walk our traditional route to Starbucks 'n back with Kimmer's nephew, spending a bit of time around a table with our breakfasts and enjoying each other's company before heading home.

Rest of the afternoon it's reading, writing, research and quizzes for Kimmer. Me, I'm looking for some alternatives to the way we do our campervan thing in the spring. It's all the logistics of where do we fly, where do we pick up the campervan, where do we drop it off, and how do we get back to Irvine. There are some new variables to the trip this year so I'm compiling scenarios for plans B, C, and D in my phone for further consideration and conversation.

Somewhere in there I spent an hour walking around the neighborhood, talking to a friend about some challenges that're coming their way in the next week.

Some time later I’m on the phone with Linzy, sharing with her more of my thoughts about the previous night's experience especially since I hit on "The Man Who Invented Christmas" Charles Dickens on a theater stage in America comparison after I spoke with her last.

Quarter to five I'm bumming a ride with Kimmer's nephew to Sprouts for a quick grocery run, especially since Kimmer's icing on the cake for our egeing is literally making.and crsfting a cake with icing for all of us to enjoy.

HUZZAH!!!

We're back at the house by quarter to six at which point Kimmer’s neohew makes bacon-wrapped brussel sprouts to go with the rice he put in the steamer before we left for Sprouts. Meanwhile, his dad's world-famous meatloaf is already cooking in the oven and the last thing that'll happen before dinner is Kimmer's gonna throw together the ingredients for an Asian salad.

By 'n by, the food's done and we gather on the couch and armchair to partake.

The evening sort of continues loosely like this through dessert... after which Kimmer heads upstairs for studying, her cousin heads out for a minute, and her nephew 'n I binge four episodes of Man on the Inside starring Ted Danson. 

Four episodes down, four to go by the time we've gotta call it. I can't wait to burn through 'em soon as I can. ☺️

I think it's around twelve-thirty when Kimmer comes down to collect me so we can spend the next half-hour packing... then going to bed... then getting up a few hours later at five-thirty... then doing everything that's left to get ourselves out the door by 7AM including showers, clothes, hot beverages, and breakfast bananas.

Twenty minutes later, we're on the sidewalk at Alaska Airlines departures, bidding each other farewells before continuing on our separate ways.

We began this trip with a Lyft to Paine Field, a flight from Paine to John Wayne, and an Uber to our Irvine homestead. Because those rideshare trips are fifteen, twenty minutes... the experience ultimately feels like commuting.

For our return, we fly into Sea-Tac, jump on the Light Rail after marveling how much better the Alaska terminal is to most other terminals we use...

...and sit through a lovely ride on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

By 'n by 'n by'nby the ride ends in Lynnwood which definitely feels like a commute. 

Interestingly, our rideshare’s already at the curb 'cause the driver’s waiting for someone there to need a ride and, sure enough, I put in the request and the app basically tells me

Yeah. That guy over there.

And his app tells him

Yeah. That guy coming your way.

Twenty minutes later, we’re home.

Naps all around.

The end.

☺️

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Checking in... checking out

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I expected him to run to the house, jump into his trunks as soon as soon as possible and be begging me to take him back to the beach already but he's a little bit tired.

"Are you sure you don't want to nap? We could lay down together for a few minutes."

"That would be nice. I think it's the heat wearing me out. I'm used to air conditioning."

"Yeah, the sun can wipe you out hard. Want to get in bed or on the couch and watch something?"

It doesn't really matter to me, I just want to close my eyes for a few minutes but he might get some better sleep on the bed.

"Rhys is taking a nap too so we won't be late. Okay, can we find a cartoon?"

"Sure darling."

Fifteen minutes later I have my head tipped back and he's lying on my lap sawing logs.

It's one of those cool recliner couches so my feet are up and I really could not be more comfortable.

I need this couch for my place.

It's one of those things I never knew I needed until this very moment but now it's a mission and will happen somehow.

Considering what a workout my couch is getting lately, it's going to need to be replaced sooner rather than later.

Part of me is regretting everything that happened at the mini-golf place.

I meant what I said, I thought it would be a super good idea for Finn to get to know another little but he has not really been in little space since they met.

He's skimming near it on occasion but nothing like he was this morning and yesterday.

I don't mind, it's not a problem that he's not except that I feel like it's my fault and he wants to be but isn't just because of meeting Rhys.

If anything I expected him to be living it up but I was obviously wrong.

I would cancel this afternoon if I could but I don't have Quincy's number.

We could just go to a different section of beach but that's lame and wrong and maybe it'll be fine.

Maybe Finnegan just needs some time to get brave and come out of his shell... I hope so.

He sleeps for about forty five minutes and wakes up slow.

"I'm so groggy," he complains.

"We don't have to be there for an hour, you're fine. Want a drink?"

"Yeah, I'm thirsty. Thank you."

I help him sit up and grab a Yoo-Hoo box from the fridge for him and a soda for me.

We need some groceries but I'll just manage until tomorrow and pick stuff up in Baltimore.

Seems silly to drive it the whole way back here but I'll have time to go while he's working.

"Will you be okay here for a few minutes? I want to take some pictures from our balcony."

What I really want is some sunrise photos but that may not happen.

My plan is to get a few that Finnegan really loves and frame them up for him for Christmas as a reminder of our trip.

Maybe they'll end up in his new office once they're up and running.

Either way, I think he'll like them.

"Hmm."

He's not quite sitting up anymore and he may very well be asleep by the time I get back.

I decide to grab our suits and take them down with me so that he doesn't have to come upstairs and I'm surprised that he's up and getting himself snack.

"Hey darling, are you okay with seeing Rhys and Quincy this afternoon? If not we can go somewhere else or stay here and play in the pool. If we see them again I'll tell them that I got horrible food poisoning from the cheeseburger."

He smiles at me and finishes his banana.

"I think it'll be fun, I'm just nervous. I don't know how to explain it."

I open my arms and he falls against my chest.

"I don't want you nervous, I want you to relax and enjoy your vacation."

"I am Emmett... a lot. This has been wonderful. I really hope we get to come back tomorrow."

"Me too. What about this? I am not going to bring up the slides tomorrow although Rhys probably will. If he does I will look to you for a decision. You don't have to say anything, just let me know what you want to do. Either way is fine with me, okay?"

"Okay, thank you. I mean, it could be a lot of fun but we haven't even used our pool yet."

"Exactly. We will have fun either way so no worries. Finnegan, can I butt my nose into your business for a second?"

"Um, sure."

"I think you should try to be in little space this afternoon if you want to be. Rhys and Quincy sure aren't going to judge you and maybe you'll have a lot of fun if you just let go and play with someone."

"I play with you."

"Yeah, and we have fun but I don't think it's the same as playing with someone closer to your age."

I keep waiting for him to break the hug but he just stays here a few minutes.

Finally he says

"I know this sounds stupid but I'm sort of afraid to play with him. What if I say something that really upsets him?"

More than the spanking he's getting?

Finnegan's not mean so I doubt that will happen.

"I guess you just apologize, just like Quincy apologized to you. I mean you're still people, I think the same basic rules apply."

"Okay, you're right, I'm being stupid."

No... I push him away enough to see him.

"You're not being stupid. This is new and you're right, we don't know all the rules but they might and we could learn a lot from them. And if not, and all it is is a fun afternoon with another little, that's not a bad thing either. If you want to come home just tell me you're tired and we'll come back. Okay?"

"Thank you Emmett. Let's get dressed, we have a castle to build."

There's my boy.

We get back to the beach and situated not far from our usual spot.

I look around for Quincy but don't see him yet so I turn my attention to Finnegan.

"Okay, do you have a plan, Finn? What should it look like?"

"Big. And I want towers and a moat."

That we can do.

"Seems reasonable. How big?"

He stands up and starts scooting his toes through the sand in a big circle.

"This is the moat on the outside and inside is ALL castle."

And now it's no longer reasonable.

"Finn, that is a six foot circle."

I could lay down in it.

"Yep. Can you fill the buckets with wet sand?"

We're ignoring the size, are we?

"So I'm gonna be the mule and bring you a thousand packed buckets?"

"Not a thousand. Like a hundred. We have two."

He hoists them both by their handles and gives them to me.

I take them from him and can't help but laugh.

"So only fifty trips, no problem."

"Exactly. And I'll do all the little ones. I'm gonna make the tops, where the archers stand to shoot. And I'll dig the moat. See? Fair and square. I'm a good boy."

Him calling himself a good boy does things for me that should not happen in a swimsuit.

I go down a bit further towards the water where the sand is wetter and fill both buckets.

One has a flat bottom and the other one has turrets built into it so that when it flips over, they're on top.

"No clue why they don't make the buckets round, they're impossible to stack this way."

I set them down next to him but he doesn't seem to know what to do with them either.

"Unless you only want it one level."

That will be less work.

"No, big."

He flips over the plain one and then grabs some sand to try to pack around and make it into a cylinder.

"And now we put the other one on top," he says, grabbing it.

I'm amazed when he tips it over and it stays.

"Wow. Didn't think that would work. Okay, two more buckets?"

"No, ninety-eight more please."

He's too cute.

[dzpenumbra]

7/3/23

Good lord, the night got away from me. It's already almost 5, the sun is coming up. Agh!

I got so much done today, I'm still kinda blown away. I started the day still a bit miffed about the granola that didn't get delivered in my grocery order yesterday... I was really enjoying starting my day with granola and yogurt, it's starting to become my thing. And not having chicken just completely threw off my whole menu, my only protein is chicken (except for eggs in some meals). So... I decided to roll with the punches.

I started to plan out making my own granola. It's most likely going to be cheaper in the long run and I can customize it to make whatever kind of granola I want. There's going to have to be experimentation to get to that point... but yeah, I think I can pull it off. So I started to place a new order to a different grocery store (just to play it safe, in case the one I've been ordering from's supply chain is just fucked), and went with oats, dried strawberries, white chocolate and vanilla. I think it's going to work pretty well. I also decided to get a thing of tofu with it, because fuck it. If I'm already this far and my only step away from vegetarianism is some pre-cooked rotisserie chicken... is it really that big of a leap to just substitute tofu? I guess we'll see. I'm going to save that order for tomorrow afternoon.

I then checked on my plants and saw that my beans are getting ridiculously big. It occurred to me I should get a trellis delivered from Lowe's or something. I was tempted to just walk into the woods and grab some sticks but... it's awkward because I would have to walk back through the gut of town and through my entire building with some 8-foot branches. I'm still feeling self-conscious about shit like that, I really don't know why and I wish I could be a bit more shameless. Like... if I were with one person, I would be fine with it. But alone... it just makes me feel like I have a spotlight on me. I hope I can do something about that soon. I miss the shamelessness of snowskating in the park, I wish I could just magically transfer it over to weird art things.

Instead of going with that plan... I got creative. I remembered that I got a big roll of sisal rope to fix up Max's cat tree for Christmas, and I had a shit-ton left over. So I started my day (before coffee even) weaving a net out of three huge pieces of sisal rope. It's about 5-5.5 feet tall, and I found a little drilled hole in the brick wall right next to where the beans had been living, so I found a spare screw from my desk and mounted the net on the wall and positioned the beans underneath. Within an hour they had wrapped themselves around it! It's so fucking crazy how fast those things move, seriously, it's almost creepy. Because of that, I'm actually interested in growing bamboo sometime. Bamboo is the fastest growing plant in the world. There's just something so crazy to me about seeing something that you normally think of as some inanimate object... and then you come back an hour later and it completely moved itself. That kinda stuff absolutely intrigues me. So.. the beans have a home now! Hopefully it's tall enough... I was reading that they can grow 7-10 feet... and this is only like... 5-6 feet... But there's nowhere higher I can hang that thing so... that's the best I can do. Worse comes to worse... I can hook the net on a big stick and prop the stick against the wall? I guess? I guess we'll just have to see.

In my research this morning, I came across the idea of growing plants upside down. I was thinking... man, if I could just get these beans to be cool with growing down instead of growing up, I could just have them vining from my loft bedroom upstairs and hanging down. That might get messy when it comes time to harvest the beans but... I mean... wouldn't that be easier? And... apparently upside-down gardening is a thing. And I actually could do that. I could even grow tomatoes and strawberries that way. Which would be so cool. I'm sure there are some drawbacks so I'll look into that, but the idea is really fascinating.

After that, remembered I was planning on growing basil in my terracotta pot. But that needed to be sealed. And I was planning on sealing that in the same sealer as the beads I had dyed with ink - tung oil. I've had this bottle of tung oil for over... 6 years? Still hadn't opened it. I was planning to re-finish the scuffed and damaged coffee table that I inherited from my family, that I grew up with. The top had a bunch of water marks and shit, which had the wood sealer peeling off. So... back when I first moved in with my ex, I planned to sand off the sealer and reseal the whole thing with a natural sealant. And tung oil was the one I chose. I never got to the point of ever using the sealer. I just sanded half of it... and then the fights and shit got in the way and I never came back to it.

So, today, I started doing coats of tung oil on the terracotta pot and the red set of beads. It's going well so far. I had been warned of the smell previously, but it's really not that bad at all. It's a weird nutty kinda smell. It's not bad, just new. From what I've been reading, they need about 6 coats, spread apart 6 hours each, fine-grit sanding in between if I want a really nice finish. I've done two coats so far today. So... 3 days total? Once I see what the final finish looks like, I'm most likely going to finally do the coffee table. I just want to test it first. I have plenty of wooden beads and the terracotta pot and saucer was like... maybe $4 total? This coffee table display case is one-of-a-kind, it's the one I grew up with and I think it's older than I am. I just wanna play it safe.

I did yoga, which was again very nice, a good hip and back one, and I was able to open my hips and back a bit more than normal today. Then a deceptively intense upper body workout that I thought was going to be easy. Then I hopped right on stream and streamed until... right before this journal entry. 5.5 hour stream. And the only chat? Some dude who came in and typed so fast and thoughtlessly that he had his right hand shifted over one key, kuje tgus (like this). And then corrected himself to ask me what "app" I was using to make the custom visualizer I was creating. I told him in depth and welcomed him to the stream and... didn't hear anything more out of him. People are really rude nowadays. I'm not fucking google, I'm a person, you can say "hi" and "bye", it won't kill you.

So yeah, I spent like 5 hours working on a visualizer and it came out pretty damn cool. And I got a ton done today, and I feel really good about that. I even spent a good 20 minutes taking my shower drain apart, cleaning it and trying to plunge the drain, just to make sure it's clear. I went for chemical stuff yesterday, which... isn't always the best answer... so I'm trying to get in the habit of more traditional clog clearing methods first, before resorting to chemicals. And I did all this because I showered and had water pooling in the bathtub the day after I did Drano... so... yeah. I gotta do something. If it's not better after this, I'm calling my landlord.

So yeah, that's about that. Gonna move on to tarot before it gets any later.

Past - Five of Wands, inverted (Competition, disagreement, strife, and the accompanying need to step up to the challenge, prove yourself and see it through.) Present - Ace of Swords (Intellect, apply logic and reason, Clarity and focus of mind.) Future - Seven of Cups, inverted (Wishful thinking, fantasy.  Letting imagination run wild, disregarding key facts.)

The start of this one is inverted Five of Wands. Five of Wands represents challenge and competition, and the bravery to step up and face that. In this context, I would see inversion at first glance being a difficulty to stand up against competition who is challenging me.

This is connected to Ace of Swords. Aces are beginnings, origins. And Swords are thought, matters of intellect. So... this would be like a catalyst? An origin idea? A starting idea from which a tree of thought grows?

This is connected to inverted Seven of Cups. Seven of Cups is... having your head in the clouds. Daydreaming, being disconnected from the present. And that's Cups, so... emotionally distant? But not in a Four of Cups kinda way. Maybe just... distracted? I don't know this card well.

Okay, I was a bit off on two of them, but not by much. So... inverted Five of Wands in the Past position makes sense. Difficulty stepping up to the challenge of conflict. This resulted in... more clarity, more focus. Because if I hadn't "failed" there, I wouldn't have thought to reassess the way I'm handing those situations... and I've learned a considerable amount about myself and relationships in general just from having been in those conflicts and not engaged well. I'm definitely more focused on logic and material facts in moments like that now, which helps keep the emotions in balance. This is connected to inverted Seven of Cups - being lost in fantasy. Which is kinda daydreaming, so I wasn't far off. A possibility of this is... I can tip the scale in the other direction and get too lost in logic and rationality that I disconnect from fantasy? That's a possibility. Or... here's a possibility I haven't really considered, a different way of reading the inversion... the clarity I have received is showing me that the inverted cards here... represent the problems the other people I'm thinking of are struggling with. Them competing with me... and being lost in emotion-fueled fantasies. Hmm... food for thought.

Let's check the placeholder card and see if that helps clear anything up. The Hermit, inverted. So... the placeholder card has, in the past, served as sort of a... common thread in the narrative. Like... a reference point. So... I would see dysfunction with The Hermit being... the bad sides of isolation. When isolation goes wrong. That's like.. the theme. So the source of this was... competition, conflict, all that going bad. Yep. And currently my struggle with isolation is... staying clear and rational when it comes to social anxiety and agoraphobia. Yep. And in the future, a possible outcome is... possibly getting stuck in fantasy, disregarding certain facts? Or encountering others that are doing this?

Yeah, I'm having trouble reading this, but mostly because I'm exhausted. I gotta get to bed. Points for trying though!

[purplesurveys]

1671

Did you ever go to daycare as a kid? No, we lived with extended family so there was always someone to look after me. The most my mom did was bring me to indoor playgrounds on weekends where I wanted to go to the mall but she also had to run errands like going to the grocery.

Who’s one of the most talented people you know? What are they talented at? Andi’s super talented. They can write, sing, play the guitar, play basketball and baseball, host parties and events, hell they even launched an entire podcast season not too long ago. As far as I know they’re also currently learning Arabic.

How long have you had your current mattress? It’s been a very long time. It’s not one of my priorities to replace any time soon though.

Do you usually pay with cash, debit card, or credit card? I use my e-wallet from my phone and just scan a QR code at establishments as most of them have one these days. Fewer places accept cards but occasionally I’ll use my debit too. I haven’t carried cash in years and don’t own a credit card.

What do you usually drink with breakfast? My breakfast is almost always exclusively just coffee. If I happen to have a meal, I’ll have it with coffee.

What’s your sexuality? Asexual.

What’s your gender identity? Female.

Are you the type of person who can make friends with just about anyone? I can make small talk with pretty much everyone and can easily detect mutual hobbies or interests to spend half an hour talking about, but I think it’s a stretch to call it ‘making friends.’ I’m very picky with who I choose to let in my circle as I find it exhausting to have too many close friends.

Have you ever experienced a medical emergency? Yeah, when Cooper bit my face I had to drop all my plans for the day (I had a work event I needed to be at that afternoon) and rush to the hospital as the wounds were deep and wouldn’t stop bleeding.

What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? A ₱50 bill from Andi as I didn’t think the parking lot I stayed at accepted e-wallet payments. 

What’s your least favorite time of day? Early morning, around 7-8 AM. Always feels like a ticking time bomb before work and the lull makes me more anxious than peaceful.

Are you muscular? Most definitely not.

Do you know anyone who’s snobby about the kind of music they like? I feel like most people my age are well past that phase so that’s great as this can be a super annoying trait. Plus nearly everyone I know is into at least one K-pop group anyway so apart from fanwars (which only ever happen on the immature side of Twitter), there’s really no reason for any one of us to be snobs when we’re all into the same genre hahaha.

Do you ever happen to find yourself trying to force yourself to be happy? I have been like this at a few points in my life, sure. Doesn’t happen these days though – I’m happier now and even if I’m not I just let myself wallow in whatever emotion I happen to be in until I find a way to make it go away.

What are some things you like about the area you live in? Lots of 24/7 fast food options for when I randomly get the midnight munchies. I also like that there’s a dog hotel nearby (convenient when we go on family trips) and that there are like five malls in the vicinity so it makes it easy when I urgently need to get something from the bookstore or grocery or whatever.

When was the last time you drank wine? Not so sure about wine...maybe last December? I must have had at least a glass in one of the Christmas parties I attended.

Do you know anyone who has been to prison? Yes.

Do you have one of those removable hand-held shower heads? We do, yes.

How many burners does your stove have? Four.

When you go to a restaurant, do you prefer to sit at a booth or a table? Booth. I like that the benches are softer to sit on, heh. Also helps with improving the ambience.

What’s the first video game you remember playing? That would be Grand Theft Auto III. I didn’t do any of the missions though; I was happy to just drive around and use the rocket launcher and shoot them towards the sky pretending they were fireworks. A colorful childhood I had lol.

Have you ever been to San Francisco? No.

Did the high school you went to offer an ecology class? We had something like that but for the life of me I can’t remember what we called it. It was like environmental education or something similar.

Which room of your house is currently in the greatest need of cleaning? House is pretty clean at the moment; my mom’s been tidying the place up since we have a massive family reunion scheduled at the house this weekend – we’re expecting around 45 relatives from my mom’s side to come over.

What’s something you think everyone should do/experience at least once in their life? Enjoy a concert.

When was the last time you shipped a package? Last week for work.

Have you ever made a homemade pie? Do schoolmade pies count? HAHAHAHA we had to make an apple pie once.

How long does it take you to get to work/school? My office is around 20 minutes to an hour away, depending on the traffic. Fortunately I work from home so I rarely ever have to drive there.

Has your car ever been broken into? No.

How old is your oldest cousin? Out of my first cousins, the eldest one is around 28-29. I always forget his birth year lol.

What are you going to do now that this survey is over? Take another one. I’m always on a survey high on the last day of weekends.

[transizzyhands]

Hey look, here’s some more:

All of his clothing fit into one drawer of his dresser—he'd traveled light, not that he'd really had any other option. He didn't hate any of it, but he didn't love it. There were none of the graphic tees he once wore, no baggy jeans and colorful jackets. They were boring, muted clothes that belonged to a different person, a stranger. They belonged to Lucas Driscoll, the man he had to become. The man who, right now, had nothing but these clothes. He didn't even have a personality. Just a flimsy paper trail and a flimsy paper life.

He scrubbed his head in the sink, towel-dried it, and ran the clippers over his hair. He would let his beard grow out, but he needed to keep his hair short.

Now he'd been to town, shown his face with the locals. Aside from that first afternoon at Ruthie's (he didn't know if that was the name of the bar, but he thought of it as hers), he'd run into Joe Parker three more times just this week. That was just the product of small-town living, but every time left him feeling he should be holding his breath.

In the grocery store, they glanced at each other for the briefest of moments—he'd noticed Joe first—and he quickly turned, expecting Joe to call after him, but he didn't. The second time, at the diner, Joe, Ness, and a pair of their friends waved him over. They invited him to sit with them, but the four of them were already squished tightly around the booth. He declined as politely as he could, and the Parkers didn't try to change his mind.

The third time... back at Ruthie's, he caught sight of Joe across the room. Joe gave him a casual wave and Luke brought his drink over.

“Hey, Luke! Take a seat! Settling in?”

“Yeah. Yo, listen, Ruthie tried to recruit me for this plan to—”

“Plan to get me dating, yeah. She does that every couple of months. Don't worry about her, she'll give up on it in a week.”

“Oh. Well, I can't promise anything, but I figure I'll stay for a bit.”

Joe grinned. “If you can succeed where no one else has, you'll be a town hero.”

“So what's the deal?”

“The deal?”

“Yeah. Why's dating so hard around here?”

“Low dating pool. Not much going on. And it's not really a priority for me. Any free time I don't spend at the store is with the seniors anyway.” He paused for a moment. “Nice ink. There on your wrist.”

“Oh.” Luke unconsciously pulled his sleeve down. “Thanks, but... I've been thinking of getting it lasered off.”

“Yeah? Stop one too many jobs?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, but... the guy who got this? I'm not him anymore. I need to let it go.”

“Hmm. Is covering it up an option?”

“Maybe.” He needed it gone. This one in particular—he needed this tattoo gone. It was another tie he needed to cut.

He didn't realize he'd gone silent until Joe cleared his throat. “Hey, listen, just tell me to mind my own business. I just... that's my bad habit. I try to fix everything. Even things I really shouldn't.”

“No, you're fine.” In a desperate bid to change the subject, he said, “So, what needs doing around here?”

“What, like, jobs?”

“Yeah.”

“Legal or… not?”

“Legal.”

“Paid or unpaid?”

“Whatever'll just get me out of the cabin for a few hours a day, preferably during daylight hours.”

“Farm work?”

“I can chop wood, that's about it.”

“Can you cook?”

Not food. “If someone shows me how to do something a couple of times, I'll figure it out.”

“Adaptable, got it.” Joe nodded slowly, absently tapping two fingers against the table. “Let me ask around and see what I come up with.”

Haines's rugged isolation was both a blessing and a curse—the wilderness was right there, easy to flee to. But it also meant that the nearest NA meeting was over an hour's drive away. Far enough that he could very easily imagine himself inventing excuses to himself not to go. Even now, he toyed with the idea of just not going at all.

He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He'd spent a quarter-million dollars to hit reset. Lest that be the stupidest investment he made, he needed to actually try to improve his life. Including going to NA.

The radio stations in the truck were static-shot and faded, bleeding into each other so he couldn't tell what was an ad and what wasn't. He'd have to figure out how to fix the music situation, but for tonight, the only background noise came from wind whipping past the partially-open window, carrying away the smoke drifting out of the cigarettes he chain-smoked as he drove. It didn't do much to clear his head, but he didn't have high hopes on that front anyway.

He pulled into the community center parking lot ten minutes before the start of the meeting and finished his cigarette. The parking lot was full—there was no way there were so many people here for an NA meeting. He watched a handful of people go inside and then finally got up to go inside as well.

He peeled off his coat, slung it over his arm, and tugged at the high neck of his sweater, finally feeling something familiar—the awkwardness that accompanied the first meeting in a new place. There were about fifty chairs in the cramped basement, and maybe a third were filled. No one really wanted the total stranger to sit next to them, so in a bid to stall for time, he wandered over to the refreshment table and got a cup of coffee.

It was hard to waste time when you drank your coffee black, so in a moment he was alone again with his styrofoam cup. Trying to project an air of confidence, he slowly turned and surveyed the assembly.

As if magnetized, his gaze immediately found Joe, already sitting down with his own coffee, staring off toward the front. Luke watched him take a swig of his coffee and glance at his watch.

The metallic clang of a door slamming made everyone jump, and Joe caught him looking. Luke quickly looked away, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, and footsteps pounded on the staircase overhead. While everyone else was distracted, he grabbed a brownie and picked the nearest open seat.

The meeting started a few minutes later, led by a woman in her late 60s with weathered brown skin and wearing a biker vest. For once, he didn't really mind listening to other people bitch about their problems. In a way, it was just another normal part of life. It was reassuring. No matter what else had changed in his life, NA meetings remained the same.

About halfway through, Miriam the biker asked him to introduce himself. Hating every eye suddenly on him, he managed, “I'm Luke. Just moved to Alaska from Wisconsin.”

“Why Alaska?”

Because it's the farthest I could run. Because someone said it would be a good idea. Because Mike told me I could be anyone I wanted up here. None of those worked though. “It's pretty up here. Nice spot to start over.”

“Starting over. A romantic idea. But are you actually starting over, or are you just going to repeat past mistakes?”

Past mistakes. Mistakes that only ended in death and pain. Every time he'd tried to change, Walter White had ruined it.

But Walter White was dead now. He couldn't pull him back in. Now all that was left was to figure out who he was without the meth.

“It's over. And I know I probably don't deserve it, but... God, I'm glad I'm getting the chance.”

Miriam crossed one leg over the other and set her chin in her palm. “'I probably don't deserve it.' That's not the first time we've heard something like that said tonight. A lot of us, we talk about what we deserve or what we don't deserve, and it's easy to wave it aside when we say something like, 'I don't deserve this bad thing happening to me because I'm a good person.' But that's not how we in this room tend to use that expression. As Luke and a few others have demonstrated already, we in this room believe that we don't deserve to have good things happen to us because we're bad people or have done bad things. But that's a very black-and-white attitude to have, which doesn't just hurt us but everyone else around us.”

Luke tried to stay focused, but his gaze kept drifting back to Joe, slouching in his seat. A glint of gold from under his dark hair—an earring? Even after the topic shifted, Luke couldn't quite keep his attention on the discussion. He found himself watching as Joe fidgeted with his own cup, gently shredding the foam between his fingers.

By the end of the hour, he needed another smoke. When they finally broke, he had a cigarette in his hand before he even made it out the door. He flicked his lighter as soon as the door slammed behind him, but it didn't catch and light until the fourth or fifth try. Finally he managed to suck down a lungful of nicotine and headed back to his truck.

He got ready to go, but he got distracted by the metal door opening again and Joe striding outside. He paused, lit a cigarette of his own, and started walking. Luke unconsciously held his breath. He didn't exhale until Joe passed his windshield, and he didn't know why he felt disappointed, but he did. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, wondering if something new was wrong with him or if this was just another symptom of the same issues.

Knuckles rapped on his window and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Shit, sorry, buddy,” came Joe's muffled voice through the glass. “Wasn't tryin' to sneak up on you or anything like that.”

He cranked the window down. “You're... you're fine. Something wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong. Just... we're both here, at NA. Figured it'd be weird if I didn't say something, right?”

“Yeah, kinda. Anyone else from Haines here?”

Joe took a drag from his cigarette, glancing out toward the street. From this close, Luke could see the simple gold hoop in his earlobe. “Nah. Just me. And you now, I guess.”

“Oh. Is it supposed to be a big secret or something?”

That made Joe laugh. “Feels like it sometimes, but no, it's fine. I think it's kinda nice that there's someone around who won't make a big deal of it. Know what I mean?”

Luke thought for a moment and then shook his head. “The only people I know who aren't weird about it are people who have been through it. That's it, yo. Other people, they don't know what to say.”

“That's for sure.” Bitterness colored his words, and a piece clicked into place in Luke's head.

“That another dating issue for you?”

“I get a lot of respect for staying sober, but that's about it. Just mentioning being in recovery is enough to kill the mood.”

“Huh. Guess I never really dealt with that. I actually met my last girlfriend at NA.”

“Sounds like that would make it easier.” Joe took a long drag. “Heroin for me. What... what was it for you?”

“Meth. Well, heroin was what sent me to rehab, but I used meth more.”

“Shit, that's a rough one. Sorry.”

“They’re both shit.”

“But you're sober now.”

“Some weed a month or two ago, but that's been it for the last year.”

After a long silence, Joe said, “They really fuck up your life, don't they?”

“Credit where it's due. I did that pretty well on my own.”

Joe laughed. “I'll confess to that myself.”

“How long have you been coming here?”

“Year and a half.”

“So what's your honest assessment?”

“Of this place? Good people here. Lucky, too, since it's the only NA meeting within driving distance. At least on this side of the border, and I don't feel like going international every week.” Joe leaned up against the side of the truck. “What'd you think of Miriam?”

“She reminds me of... every other facilitator I've met. Like they all read from the same script.”

“That might be intentional. Consistency, right?”

“I get that they have to have, like, the same message or whatever, but why can't they just... say it like a normal person?”

“What, and miss out on the chance to bore everyone to sleep?”

“Why is it that the best naps are always when you're supposed to be awake?”

“It's the danger of getting caught. I'm assuming.”

Luke grinned and made a split-second decision. “Wanna come in? I can turn on the heat.”

“Love to, but I can't. I actually gotta head back to town now. Find me tomorrow at the store, though. I got a couple of things I've been digging up for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. The jobs you asked me about.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, great.”

Joe grinned, a bright smile that lingered in Luke's vision long after it disappeared. “Awesome. See you tomorrow, Luke.” He waved as he walked away.

Luke's heart pounded and his hands shook as he started up the truck. He must have had too much coffee.

hey look it's the first 2,000 words or so of this post-El Camino fic ive been working on

After 26 years in the desert, the first big adjustment was coping with the cold. Sure, it got cold in New Mexico, but it was nothing compared to Alaska's bitter freezes. Back when Alaska was just an idea in his head, he thought he could handle it. Oversized hoodies and beanies pulled low over his ears had been his wardrobe since he was a teenager, after all—they should have served him well up north.

Not so much. Less than a week after he arrived, after a night of shivering himself awake next to the wood stove, he got into the truck and headed into town.

It was a small town, vastly different from Albuquerque's busy streets and sprawling neighborhoods. Most of the vehicles around here were old trucks and Jeeps, bodies half-rusted away, with the occasional Subaru or SUV parked along the street. Small cars didn't fare well in the snow. Before the next big snowfall, he'd have to get chains. First things first, though: more layers.

A storefront called SNOWBUSTER'S EMPORIUM caught his eye. In the windows, a headless mannequin modeled a fur-lined parka and matching trousers, with a scarf around its neck and sturdy boots. He cut the engine halfway down the street and headed inside.

The bell over the door rang out, punctuating the classic rock playing softly over hidden speakers. “Hey, Joe!” came a woman's voice, but he couldn't see anyone.

“Uh. Not Joe. Sorry,” he said.

A head poked up from behind a rack of sweaters. “Oh! Nope, definitely not.” The woman, dark-haired and dark-eyed, shot him a mischievous grin. “Sorry about that.” She stepped out from behind the rack and approached him. “I'm Ness. New in Haines?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let me know if I can help you find anything, okay?” She looked friendly enough, in her early forties with her dark hair in twin braids and a light-green flannel shirt buttoned high. “Passing through or staying?”

“Haven't decided,” he said. That, at least, wasn't a lie.

“This is a nice town. We always welcome a friendly face. How long have you been here?”

“Few days.”

“How do you like it so far?” As Ness spoke, she moved around the store, straightening displays or re-folding scarves.

“Not bad. A little cold at night.”

She hummed in agreement. “Staying warm at night is tricky. I always recommend getting a dog for that. But if you're allergic to dogs or you're not interested in getting one, there's always long johns! Back here.”

After a brief hesitation, he followed her to the back of the store and she gestured to a rickety shelf stacked with folded long johns. “Take a look back here, and if you don't find something you like, we can always special order something for you. It'll take a couple weeks to get in, but it's worth it. Welcome to town.” She stuck out her hand.

He shook it. “Thanks. Lucas,” he added.

Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you, Lucas. If you need me, I'll be up at the register. Just holler.” She went back to the front, leaving him to stare at the woolen clothing in silence.

But his attention just shifted right back to the shelves. They were splintering, half-eaten away, and looked like they were a rough sneeze away from falling apart. Flimsy plywood held together with wood glue and prayers. Before he could stop himself, he called over, “Where'd you get these shelves?”

Ness propped herself up on her elbows, leaning against the front case. “Why?”

“Hope you didn't pay too much for 'em, or I'd say you got ripped off.”

An eyebrow went up along with a small smile. “And how much would be too much?”

He scanned the rest of the store, eyeing the shelves in the walls. “Fifty bucks.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” A horrible thought struck him. “You didn't make 'em yourself, did you?”

“No, I didn't make them.”

“Oh. Okay.” His heart rate started to return to normal.

“My brother did,” Ness finished as the bell above the door chimed out again.

“Your brother did what?” asked the man who'd pushed open the door. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe three inches taller than him, but his wide build, grown-out beard, and intense stare all immediately indicated that he was not someone to be messed with.

“Apparently, my brother is a piss-poor carpenter.”

“No, wait—that's not what I said,” he protested, silently kicking himself. He'd been in town less than a week, in this store less than five minutes, and he was already making an ass of himself. How the fuck was he supposed to keep himself out of trouble when he couldn't last a day with regular people?

“Lucas, this is Joe, my brother. We own the store.”

“I'm... sorry,” he mumbled, starting to skirt around the edge of the store toward the other door. His first, panicked reaction was to go for the gun in his waistband—the gun he didn't have on him. “I have this bad habit, I talk too much—look, I'll just leave and I won't bother you again.”

“That one doesn't open,” Joe said, his beard twitching.

“Ah.” He couldn't get a read on Joe's expression, but he didn't want to look too closely at him, either. “Are you gonna let me go?”

The siblings exchanged a look and then Joe stepped away from the door.

He took the opening presented and bolted before they could change their minds.

The snow crunched under his stiff boots, heavier on his feet than he was used to. Discomfort came from unexpected angles, from the cold against his scalp and the tug of still-healing scars when he talked, to tight new boots that hadn't broken in yet and an ache that went bone-deep when he bent his left knee. He focused on that to keep from panicking, focused on the key digging into his palm as he finally drew level with the truck.

The engine hadn't cooled much, so the air that blasted him was still warm. He fumbled through his unfamiliar pockets until he found his cigarettes and lighter. Maybe one day he'd quit, but right now, he didn't care. There was no guarantee he'd even make it to 30 anyway.

He needed a drink to calm himself down, but the idea of drinking alone after spending the better part of a year alone was enough to drive him crazy on its own. So going to a bar was the best option.

Fortunately, he didn't have to drive far. Barely a block away, he pulled into a practically-empty parking lot and went inside. It wasn't the sleaziest dive he'd been to, but it was up there. The dim lighting inside obscured anything farther than ten feet away. In some dark corner, only the quiet click of pool balls cracking together indicated a game of billiards. Despite the NO SMOKING sign behind the bar, an old-timer sat at a far table with a fat cigar burning. He went up to the bar, vacant aside from one bleary-eyed patron, and flagged down the bartender. “Jack and Coke.”

“ID.”

He slid his license across the bar top. The bartender's eyes scanned the name, the photo, the birthdate. “Sure thing, Mr. Driscoll. Five bucks.” She slid it back to him.

“Isn't it ten?” he asked, pointing to the prices listed above the bar.

“Happy Hour started at four. Jeez,” the bartender added. “Never heard a guy complain about a cheap drink before.” She pulled out a glass and started pouring, then nodded at someone over his head.

Before he could turn around to look, another body was in his space, sliding onto the stool next to his. “Just put it on my tab, Ruthie.”

“Sure thing. Anything for you? Get you your usual?”

“Nah, I'll just be a minute.” Leather creaked as weight shifted. “Never did get a chance to properly make your acquaintance. Joseph Parker. Everyone calls me Joe. Nella said you're Lucas?”

He swallowed and forced himself to look at Joe. “Yeah. Luke is good too.” It brought Luke Skywalker to mind. Badger and Skinny Pete were Trekkies if anything, but he'd always preferred Star Wars.

“Luke.” It looked like Joe was grinning, but it was hard to tell for sure.

“Yeah. Luke. My last name's Driscoll, though. Not anything cool, like Skywalker.”

Joe laughed, a big and genuine laugh, and Luke took a swig of his Jack and Coke to hide his sigh of relief.

“So, like... what are you doing here? You didn't follow me here just to buy me a drink, did you?”

Joe nodded slowly and lightly tapped his pinkie and ring fingers on the slick wood of the bar top. “You're right. I just wanted to—look, are you okay? When you left the store, you looked like you were about to pass out.”

“Huh?”

“What you said? 'You gonna let me go?' You were shaking like a Chihuahua.”

“But your sister said—”

Joe waved dismissively. “Ness was messing with me, that's all. That's what she does. I know those shelves're garbage. They've been like that for ten years. We fight about them all the time.”

“So why don't you just replace them?”

“You'll have to ask her that. Sometimes it feels like the only way they'll get fixed is if someone does it overnight.” He propped himself by his elbow. “Bah, it's not that important. Listen, there's no hard feelings, Luke. You gave a fair and moreover honest assessment of my work. It don't bother me any. Besides, if you keep talking to Ness about it, you might be able to help me convince her to replace them.” Joe got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on back sometime and we'll take care of you.”

He shook Joe's hand. “Yeah, for sure. I'll be back.”

“Cool. See you around, Luke.” He stepped away, his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer in Luke's, and Luke swore his heart missed a beat but by the time he processed it, Joe was out the door.

He swirled his drink for a moment and then took another swig, grimacing slightly at the burning tang of whiskey.

“Well, since Joe's paying, want another?” Ruthie asked.

“He's really not gonna kick my ass?”

“Who, Joe? He's a big cuddly kitty-cat. Besides, I wouldn't offer if it was gonna be a problem. So how 'bout it?”

He stared into the glass for a few seconds and then finished it off. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great.” She mixed up another and swapped out the glasses. “Here. So, I'm gathering that you're new around Haines. Makes sense, I've never seen you before. You hanging around?”

“Haven't decided. I haven't unpacked yet, if that's what you mean.”

“Well, why not?”

“I don't know.”

“Think you could stay for, say, a month?”

That wasn't what he expected. “For what?”

“Well, if I'm being honest, it's a little boring. Everyone knows everyone. Kind of a relief to get some fresh blood in here.”

Something about that comment put him on-edge. “You're not... uh, vampires, are you?”

Ruthie laughed so hard she cried. Neither of the other two bar patrons even looked over at them.

“I'm guessing that means no.”

Her giggles slowly subsiding, she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrists. “No, no vampires in this town that I know of.”

“Werewolves?”

Ruthie looked like she was going to lose it again. “Luke, I need your help to get Joe a date. This isn't a monster movie. Not to imply the two are mutually exclusive or anything.”

“Why do you need my help?”

“Because you're exciting, you're bright, shiny, and new, and you're probably looking for new friends of your own anyway, right? So it's a win-win.”

“Sure. So what's your angle in this?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Just seems a little weird, you know? Asking a stranger for help setting up your friend.”

“What? Come on, I bet you're a great wingman. But listen, hey. He's a good guy. He just needs to shake it up a bit. Stranger from out of town sounds like the perfect way to do that. But, hey, if you're not interested, no problem.”

There was only one right answer to this, and the wrong answer felt dangerous. But there was a tug in his chest, something telling him to stay. So he compromised. “I'll think about it, okay?”

Ruthie nodded appreciatively. “That's more than I can rightly ask a stranger.”