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eviesqueezie · 3 months ago

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you’re my coney island baby

the radio plays in the background of the sweltering heat, where curly lays with his head resting on the wall of the curtis’ house. ponyboy sits next to him, thighs touching as he takes puffs from a cigarette they both share.

ponyboy’s math homework is laid out infront of him as he scribbles away with a blunt pencil. curly has the same worksheet, only he’s doodling in the corners instead of filling in the equations.

ponyboy leans over to look, giving an approving nod. his face is tinted red, sweat forming on his cheeks. curly thinks he’s never looked more attractive. if they weren’t out on the porch, if they were in curly’s bedroom or down at the treehouse in the woods, curly would have pulled him in and kissed him senseless. but they weren’t, they were on the porch for the public eye. he just shifted closer, letting his eyes flicker down to his lips.

ponyboy nods, smiling.

“someday curls, we can do whatever we want.”

curly nods, folding his worksheet into a paper aeroplane.

“you boys hungry?” darry stuck his head out the door, shirt unbuttoned.

both boys nodded, quickly pulling themselves up and into the kitchen. it was even warmer inside, even with the windows and door open. a small fan in the corner was blowing in every direction, making little to no difference. two-bit was spread out on the couch, sweating like a pig but asleep nevertheless. sodapop and steve were having a half-assed game of snap, steve pausing every once in a while to push back his ungreased hair.

as curly looked around the room, he noticed there wasn’t a greased lock in sight. the heat would have melted it anyway, and curly never could get the grease through his tight coils. if he wasn’t surrounded by the other boy’s whole gang, he would’ve ran his fingers through pony’s hair, feeling the softness under his fingertips.

curly slid onto the couch next to where ponyboy had plopped down, fiddling with the chain around his neck.

“anyone up for poker?” sodapop asks, half-heartedly.

“naw, ain’t nobody wanna play when ya cheat all the damn time sodapop!” steve shouted, grinning when soda jumped ontop of him, beginning the third fight of the day.

“get off eachother for gods sake, it’s too hot in here for all that.” darry says, setting down a glass of water infront of ponyboy who accepts it gratefully.

“ain’t i get any water, dar?” soda asks, frowning in mock hurt.

“when ya look like yer on the verge of passin’ out, you can have some darrel delivery service.” darry grins, pointing at soda with two fingers, pretending to shoot him. sodapop jumps back, playing dead.

“me and curly are goin’ to my room, that okay, dar?” darry nods, giving a thumbs up before faltering.

“what ‘bout lunch? i made pb&js..” his voice trails off as soda jumps up, running to the kitchen. “guess we know what it takes to bring him back from the dead then.”

pony laughs, curly feels lightheaded. sodapop runs back in, almost tripping over the carpet that runs along the floor. he passes a plate to pony, then to curly. they both dig in, curly eating like it’s his last meal on earth. which could be linked to how he’d had no breakfast, but curly decided them to be unrelated.

ponyboy finishes quickly after, dragging curly into the kitchen to drop their plates in the sink before slinking off to pony’s room. as soon as the door shuts, curly pushes him against the closed door, letting his hand rest against the doorknob so he can know if somebody tries to get in. ponyboy grins, closing the short distance between their lips.

this. this is what curly stays sane for.

they know nothing else can happen. they know the shirts will stay on and they won’t move away from the door. they know that this is all they can do.

the doorknob wiggled from the outside and both boys lept away, fixing their shirts and moving to sit on the bed.

“what you guys up to?” sodapop came through the door, grinning like a mad man.

curly shrugged and leaned back on his hands.

“just talkin’, can’t really do anythin’ in this weather can we pones?”

ponyboy forced out a laugh and nodded.

“what’s up, soda?”

“me and steve are headed to the lake, y’all wanna come?” pony nods quickly but curly hesitates, checking the clock on the wall.

“i got business, maybe next time.” he pulls himself up, waving bye to pony and nodding at sodapop before he walks out the door, fixing his hair once again.

ponyboy runs out after him, meeting him out on the porch where they were just minutes ago.

“come round tommorow?” he asks, eyebrow raised. curly grins.

“sure pone. cya tommorow.”

and with that he leaves, letting the heat drift over his shoulders.

he shoots a look behind him as he crosses the street, thinking back to the pressing of lips and the pressure of calloused hands.

he lets it drift back inside the house, where his secret would be safe. where he could be safe.

#the outsiders #outsiders #purly #ponyboy curtis #curly shepard #skibidi toilet #writing #bad writing #ahhhhh #sodapop curtis #steve randle #darry curtis #two bit mathews #rip johnny cade you would have loved childline

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winniemaywebber · 6 months ago

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Tilt-A-Whirl

Little pockets of joy are few and far between during war time, so these girls snatch it up while they can. A day at the beach during a rare long weekend is just what is needed. Jo and Jean make the most of being beach bums, with a couple of extra friends.

A day on Coney Island, featuring Jo, Jean, Juliet and Ruthie.

It was Friday, and the beginning of a long weekend for Jo Harris and Jean Crosby. The smell of the cusp of summer lay under the fresh scent of Spring, the cool, sky blue days departing without so much as a cool breeze to bid farewell until the next year. The sun shone brightly at the beginning of the week, the heat only getting stronger and stickier as the days progressed, the humidity bordering on unbearable in the night. Thursday had been the worst day for it so far, the girls’ set hairstyles destroyed in the humidity, the wooden seats they sat upon at work slick with sweat, taking to bringing a towel from home and sitting upon that to save some decorum while surrounded by other women and men at the switchboard which they worked. Stockings neglected, the windows of their work building being opened not cooling them down one jot, their boss had beckoned them in a circle right before lunch time.

“It's just too darn hot,” the bespectacled man had puffed, dabbing at his brow with an already damp, wrung out handkerchief. “The weatherman said it's sure to cool down over the weekend. Go on and take the day tomorrow, see you all back here Monday morning.”

They didn't need to be asked twice, Jo and Jean trotting off to their neighboring cubbies and collecting their handbags before rushing off to the bus stop, the vehicle heavy with the same humidity that hung in the air outside.

—

Arriving home, both girls throw down their handbags and rush to the icebox, letting the cool air wash over them before grabbing a cold drink from it.

Sitting down at the table with a huff, fanning themselves, they find themselves in a companionable silence. It was one of the things they loved most about one another; they could yap for hours about everything and nothing, but could also bask in a slow, gentle quietness, knowing the other was still present in the moment.

“Gosh, it's stifling,” Jean says, breaking the silence and wafting at herself with yesterday's newspaper. “I couldn't sit there a moment longer. If you looked at the seat of my chair, you'd have thought I'd had some kind of accident! I'm sweating in places I didn't know I could sweat!”

“Ugh,” Jo replies, giggling a little. “I hear ya. The back of my knees are dripping. My knees, for goodness sake!”

The phone rings, startling them both from their complaints, their eyes darting towards the telephone sat upon a small table in the entryway.

“I've got it!” Jean says, standing slowly so as not to sweat more. “Hello?”

Josephine listens in, scanning the front page of the newspaper Jean had been fanning herself with a few moments before. Shouts of “oh, goodness, you too?” and “what a fabulous idea!” echo from the hallway into the kitchen, Jo’s ears pricking up at every word. “We'd love to! Okay, yes, shall we say around lunchtime? Yes, of course Jo will be there. A friend? Goodness, yes! We can't wait to meet her, Jules…yes, Coney Island, lunchtime. See you then!”

Jean places the phone back into its holder, rushing back to the table to relay the information to Jo.

“Jules has a long weekend too! The students were just not getting anything done in this heat, so the principal sent everyone home this morning.”

“Sounds great!” Jo replies, her eyes telling Jean to carry on.

“She says it's the perfect weekend for the beach, and I sure agree. We've been working hard, we deserve to take this long weekend and have fun! She wants to meet us at Coney Island tomorrow afternoon!”

“Oh, a wonderful idea! Especially with Brady being where he is, it'll cheer her up no end. And she's bringing a friend?”

“Yes, a friend from school! Ruthie.”

“I can't wait!”

—

Gripping each other's hands, Jo and Jean push through a crowd as thick as the ongoing heat as they step onto the platform, making sure to keep ahold of their beach bags with their free hands. Shoving slightly, they finally exit the hubbub, glancing around quickly.

“I don't see them,” Jean says, pulling a fan out of her bag and wafting at her face with it. She looks beautifully fresh, forgoing her usual makeup routine and leaving her face mostly bare so as not to deal with melted rouge and smudged mascara. Jo has done the same, hair pinned back in a light scarf, sunglasses covering her bare eyes.

“Jean! Josephine!” they hear from across the way. There stands Juliet Thompson, hair similarly styled, wrapped in a light dress to cover her swimsuit. Next to her stands a beautiful, tall, dark haired woman, her skin the most beautiful, soft caramel color.

“Thank goodness we all had the same idea,” Jo mumbles, taking in their beach day outfits as Jean pulls her towards the two girls, squealing as they reach them.

“I'd say it's been a while,” Juliet says, hugging them both. “But it's barely been a fortnight since our upstate visit!”

Jo laughs, returning her embrace and once again glancing at her friend. Jean looks as mesmerized at the girl as Jo does, the pair of them blown away by how outstandingly gorgeous she is as she removes her sunglasses to greet Jules’ friends.

“This is Ruthie! We've been friends since our schooldays. Ruthie, this is Josephine and Jean. Josephine and Jean’s fellas are in the same squadron as Johnny.”

“Hi,” she says meekly, waving nervously.

“Come on,” Jules urges, starting to push through a new crowd forming at the entrance of the train station. “I need some sun and a few rides on the Tilt-A-Whirl.”

—

“I am not going on that,” Jo protests, nauseous from being tilted too many times on the whirl. After agreeing to take a few rides with Jules, she needed a sit down and a cigarette, her stomach still lurching from the after effects. It flips again, looking up at the tremendously high and dangerous looking Parachute Jump.

“But it's such a great view of the boardwalk, Jo!” Jules laughs, pointing up.

“I can see it perfectly well from down here, thank you. I'm sure I'll vomit.”

“Fine,” she sighs. “Jean?”

“Go on, then,” she says, gritting her teeth. “I suppose it's something to tell Bing in my next letter. I can show off that I don't get airsick.”

As the pair depart, Jean nervously looking up at the ride with every other step she takes towards it, Jo sits down next to Ruthie.

“She didn't ask you, girlie.”

“She knows better than to ask me to go on that contraption!” she giggles, looking up and squinting. She shudders, looking at Jo with a huge smile. “Much too high for me. Jules has always had no fear and I was the scaredy-cat.”

“Oh, that's Jean and I,” Jo replies, shaking her head. “I've had a few moments where I'm reading letters from Robert, scared out of my wits for what may happen. But, Jean…she's far more together about each situation. We just–”

“Balance each other out? Jules and I do that, too.”

A moment of silence passes between them, a question on Jo's lips.

“So tell me,” she begins. “Your name. Am I saying it correctly? Ruthie?”

“Yes,” she nods. “My name is actually Ruthvika, but many people seem to have trouble pronouncing that, so since school, I have been Ruthie.”

“Ruthvika,” she murmurs, nodding. “That's so beautiful. That's not hard to pronounce at all. Gosh, people are ridiculous.”

“I wanted to make it easy on people.”

“You'll learn that, with us by your side, you'll never have to do that again. You're Jules’ friend, and by association, one of us. One of the gang. What would you like to be called?”

“I like Vika,” she says, eyes downcast.

“Vika. It's so pretty.”

Jo looks to her left as she sits in the warm sun, The Cyclone in her line of sight. Purely by coincidence that she'd sat there, but she was sure it was her heart leading her there somehow. Her thoughts turn to Robbie: how much she missed him, and how they'd have been here twice, even thrice by now, him poking at her to ride The Cyclone with him and her faking being worn down by him. It didn't ever take much; one look in those pretty blue eyes and she'd say yes to anything.

“You are never getting me on that darn thing again,” Jean scolds, her face the same green as her fan. She turns to Jo and Vika, shaking her head. “That was horrible!”

“Now you see why I stayed down here with Vika,” Jo laughs, handing Jean her bag. “Come on, let's get the last of the sun!”

“You girls want a picture?” A man calls, having them stand just in front of The Cyclone.

“Oh, yes please,” Jean says. “We can send one to Robbie and another to Binger.”

Laughing as they get into position, they place their sunglasses back on their faces as the camera snaps them, huge grins upon their faces.

“Now one of the four of us, for the mantle!” Jean cries, holding her hand out to Ruthie and Jules. “Come on!”

—

The beach had been heaving when they'd first arrived, deciding to have fun at the fairground and the World of Wax museum, the figures melting in the sweltering heat, the features on the wax slowly dripping off on to the hardwood floor, the girls giggling at a nose plopping off a figure as they left. As the crowds departed, people finally making their way back to the city, the girls finally had some room to lay down their towels on the sand. Jules had grabbed a large parasol from a hut on the beachfront, her and Vika working together to push it into the soft sand at the perfect angle, burying the wooden pole before themselves laying under it.

“So, Vika,” Jean starts, only needing to be told once of her preferred name. “Do you have a sweetheart?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I'm too busy studying and working for all that at the moment.”

“I see!” Jean replies. “Where do you work?”

“My parents own and run a hotel on the outskirts of the city, so I help them out there.”

“And do you enjoy it?” Jo probes, her eyebrow furrowed as she shades her eyes from the sun.

“Hm, I guess. I like being able to help my parents with their day.”

“Well then, that's all that matters, doll. As long as you're happy.”

“Have you both heard from the boys?” Jules’ nervous voice calls from the other side of Vika. “Olive wrote me a few days ago, but they haven't had any update either.”

“We have. Just last week, actually. Can you believe it, my husband thinking he's Captain Marvel trying to stay awake for days at a time? Three days he went with no sleep, until he collapsed on the floor.”

“Robbie told us none of this until after the mission, so there's us, chewing our fingernails clean off and hoping for some news- any news! Only to find out it's ‘yes, darling, I'm fine, but by the way, please tell Jean that Harry is sleeping off a coma.”

“Can one sleep off a coma?” Vika asks, giggling.

“Jury's out on that one, darling,” Jean sighs, laying back down. “Welcome to the madness.”

She hears sniffling, sitting up once again to look at Jules.

“Oh, Juliet. No need to cry, darling. Here,” she says, digging a handkerchief out of her bag. Dabbing at her eyes, she wraps an arm around her.

“S-sorry,” Jules sniffs out, steadying her breathing. “I know you both must be so worried but…I'd take that over whatever this is.”

“We know,” Jo sighs, walking over and sitting by her friend, stroking her arm. “I have a good feeling this will all be over soon, and he'll be home before you know it.”

"Yeah,” she sighs, exhaling the next sob away. “I just–I just miss him so much. And not being able to hear from him regularly is torture. It's torture.”

“I know. We know. It's so unfair, Jules, we can understand.”

“Hey,” Jean soothes, her hand now on Juliet's face. “Would you feel better if we did not talk about Harry and Robert? We can do that. We want you around but not at the expense of you getting upset.”

“No, no, goodness no,” she says, waving her hand at them dismissively. “I love hearing about them, it's just–”

“You wish he was there with them, not wherever he is,” Vika pipes up, now kneeling behind Jules. “I'm fascinated at how the three of you are coping. I don't know if–”

“Honestly, so am I,” Jean laughs. “But we have each other, and that makes it all worthwhile. And now we have you, and you're a sweetheart. Come on,” she says, pulling Jules up. “Let's get in the water before it turns freezing. Come on, all of us.”

They stand, all clasping each other's hands. The feeling of togetherness overwhelms them suddenly, smiling at one another through this intense emotion. Four girls, all thrown together because of this beastly war are now, somehow, bonded for life. They run, screaming and laughing all the while as they plunge into the cool, blue water, the joy making all of their cheeks glow.

—

“God, I need a drink,” Jean grumbles, throwing her bag on the counter. “I mean, don't people in this city know manners? Decorum? Goodness me. Three times I asked that man to excuse me, please move so I have a little more space.”

“The joys of the subway,” Jo sighs, welcoming Jules and Vika into the house and leaving the door open to let some of the cooler breeze into the house.

“Jean, may I use your telephone?” Vika asks. “I need to call my mother.”

“Yes, doll, go right ahead. It's on the table in the entry.”

“Thanks. Won't be long.”

She exits, Jean hearing hushed tones from the hall almost immediately after the number is dialed.

“What do you think of her?” Juliet asks, biting her lip nervously.

“I love her,” Jean replies, collecting supplies from the mirrored liquor cabinet to make her famous martinis for everyone. “She's a sweetheart.”

“She's a darling,” Jo interjects, wiping her brow with a damp washcloth. “So sweet. We had a nice little talk while you two were parachuting.”

“Oh, that darn thing,” Jean cries, jokingly gagging. “Never again. I'm just like my husband. Weak in the stomach!”

The three of them continue chatting, Jean clinking bottles and cups every so often as she mixes the drink before shaking it.

“Yes, mother,” they hear. “No, mama. I am safe here, they're Juliet's–yes, I know. I can assure you I'm okay and–mhm, yes. I can take a cab and get the train…”

“Excuse me, ladies,” Jean says, making her way to the hall. As she approaches Vika, she holds her hand out to hold the phone. “May I?” she says, Vika nodding as her eyes begin to fill with tears.

“Mrs Patel,” she begins. “Mrs Jean Crosby here. Uh-huh, I can sure understand your worries, Mrs Patel. But, she is quite safe here with us and I don't feel terribly comfortable about her leaving my house in a cab and then being at the station at this time of night. Yes, ma'am, she's just grand here…”

Ruthie looks on astonished as Mrs Crosby plainly lays it all out over the phone: she would be spending the night here, with her new friends.

“Thank you, Mrs Patel. Goodbye!” She places the phone back in its cradle with a triumphant smile. “There, all settled. Would you like a martini?”

“Never had one,” she replies.

“Well then, it's your lucky day!” Jean says, ushering her back into the kitchen.

“Everything okay?” Jules asks, her face etched with concern.

“Yes!” Vika replies brightly. “Jean spoke with my mother.”

“Oh, wow. And you can stay?”

“I can. I was also promised my first martini.”

“Jean, weaken hers a little for goodness sake. She'll be blown away if she has it the same strength as us for her first one!”

“Don't worry,” Jean says reassuringly. “I'll add some extra ice to Vika’s.”

—

In a giggly, tipsy mess, the girls had decided to camp in the living room, leaving the windows opened wide. The temperature had dropped, if only a little, letting a deliciously cool breeze into the house, the four of them finally able to breathe deeply and dry off. It made setting up the impromptu slumber party much easier: Vika and Jules were top and tail on the couch, and Jean and Jo had dragged mattresses downstairs to sleep on, Jean pulling hers from the guest room. Shrieks of “pivot! No, thatta way!” had sent Vika and Jules into cackling messes, intent on getting up to help them but their hysterical laughter stopping them in their tracks.

“Hey, Jo,” Jules asks. “How did you and Robbie meet? I don't think I've ever asked.”

“Oh,” she giggles, already blushing. “We met many years ago now. It wasn't until he enlisted and was sent away for training that I–we realized…”

“Realized what?” Vika asks, her tone a little louder from the alcohol.

“Well, that we're in love. Terrible timing, I know, but we don't seem to follow the same path as anyone else.”

“I think it's sweet,” Jean pipes up, sleepily. The alcohol was for sure getting to her, her voice low and slow. “Least he's not distracted and forgetting about you. I suppose that happens, only being married for two weeks before you're sent off into war for years. You forget.”

“Oh, Jean,” Josephine soothes, patting her hand in the dark. “Don't be saying that.”

“You've seen the letters, Jo,” she replies, her voice tight. “Mine are full of love, desperately missing him and his are…” she pauses, not quite able to find the words. “Jeez, look at me,” she sniffs. “Sorry, girls. Not usually like this.”

“No need to apologize,” Vika says, trying her best to make eye contact with her, the room being lit only by the silver moon. “Thank you for letting me come along today. This has been one of the best days I've ever had.”

“I'm glad, doll,” Jo replies, her own eyes growing heavy. “I'm also glad Jean gave your mom what for.”

“I didn't give her what for!” Jean replies in mock outrage. “Just set her straight.”

“It was great,” Vika giggles, snuggling down further in her blanket.

“I'm so happy we've all taken to each other. All thrown together because of this godforsaken war that's taken so much from us,” Jules chimes in.

“That's true. But you know what it can't take away? This. Friendship.”

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #oc: jean crosby #oc: josephine harris #oc: juliet thompson #oc: ruthvika “ruthie” patel #winnie writes #gina baker writes #sage speaks #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #harry crosby #harry crosby x oc #john brady #john brady x oc

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thirst2 · 5 months ago

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After finding out where I was from a woman on the train in Boston smiles and tells me not to worry she hears that in the next five to ten years Detroit is going to be the Midwestern New York I in turn worry for obvious reasons the rats in New York are tall enough to drive taxis the people in New York are all seemingly allergic to saying excuse me those are problems we do not want three years later I pick up a paper and the headline reads welcome to the new Detroit and I'm quickly reminded of something my grandmother once said you can sell a house a hundred times but the walls will still tell stories on the first family that owned it you can't throw soil on top of a land of living people then try to convince the outside world that their home was graveyard before it began to blossom bike lanes and fine dining this is not a city attempting to transition into another city it's Detroit it's churches in old buildings that lean like drunk lovers but still open every Sunday for worship it's Coney Island hot dogs and Faygo pop on the days when you wanna feel like you were the only one told the secret It's what up doe and water shut offs a woman planting flowers in potholes a line straight out of a tupac poem it's still here because we didn't change our zip codes when our schools started shutting down our sports teams started losing and our air started smelling like gun smoke and new money it's Motown it's a homeless man in bright colors on the corner of Selden and Second in bright colors and music-less headphones always dancing like his imaginary check had more money on it than he expected and yea sometimes the suburban folks treat the city like a party they weren't invited to leave trash start fights then exit before the police show up sometimes the police don't show up it's not perfect but it's a city that held its place in line until God returned from an extended lunch break a place where any person on the streets will still politely give you directions even when they themselves feel lost it's a beast that swallowed my brother along with countless other friends and family members long before their time but home is wherever the most of your loved ones are buried it's the place that's found the perfect balance between breaking your heart and layering your skin it's the factory that you were built in on the nights when you feel defective it's the safest space for you to return to so to the woman in Boston who thought that I was worried to the couple in Seattle that wanted to know if my skin has ever tasted bullet to the people trying to figure out which Detroit to believe It's a complicated story with more semi colons than periods on its best day it's still broken but it works it grinds it is ours still

—"Detroit", Natasha "T" Miller

#Poems #Detroit poem #Natasha “T” Miller #Midwest #Michigan #Detroit

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edwinspaynes · 2 years ago

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evermore songs as tlh characters/ships

I saw someone do this for Folklore and Evermore's my favourite album, so...

sorry nbnc isn't included i just had no idea what to do with it lol

willow -> thomas @ alastair

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars Now this is an open-shut case Guess I should've known from the look on your face Every bait and switch was a work of art

champagne problems -> james @ cordelia + matthew

[He'll] patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems

gold rush -> matthew

What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore At dinner parties Won't call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town We never found will never See a love as pure as it

tis the damn season -> anna @ ari

Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin' And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

tolerate it -> alastair @ charles

honestly this one is too fitting it was so hard to choose a quote but--

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten You're so much older and wiser and I...

happiness -> matthew @ cordelia

After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness You haven't met the new me yet And I think [he'll] give you that

dorothea -> ari @ anna

It's never too late To come back to my side The stars in your eyes Shined brighter in Tupelo And if you're ever tired of being known For who you know You know, you'll always know me

coney island -> james @ cordelia

Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you? And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering, "Where did my baby go?" The fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go Sorry for not making you my centerfold

ivy -> alastair @ thomas while in paris

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

cowboy like me -> ari @ anna

And the skeletons in both our closets Plotted hard to mess this up And the old men that I've swindled Really did believe I was the one And the ladies lunching have their stories about When you passed through town But that was all before I locked it down

long story short -> matthew

I always felt I must look better in the rear view Missing me At the golden gates they once held the keys to When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door And we live in peace But if someone comes at us This time, I'm ready

marjorie -> grace @ christopher (😭)

I should've asked you questions I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me Watched as you signed your name Marjorie All your closets of backlogged dreams And how you left them all to me

closure -> alastair @ charles after the end of chog

Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better It cut deep to know ya Right to the bone Yes, I got your letter Yes, I'm doing better I know that it's over I don't need your closure

evermore -> cordelia @ james

And I was catching my breath Floors of a cabin creaking under my step And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar This pain wouldn't be for Evermore

right where you left me -> grace

I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

it's time to go -> matthew at the end of chot

Sometimes giving up is the strong thing Sometimes to run is the brave thing Sometimes walking out is the one thing That will find you the right thing That will find you the right thing And you know in your soul And you know in your soul When it's time to go

#evermore #taylor swift #the last hours #tlh #matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #anna lightwood #ari bridgestock #arianna #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #jordelia #herondaisy #grace blackthorn #christopher lightwood #gracetopher

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winterspiderpurrs · 2 years ago

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I read your recent post , and I have a prompt idea, steve and bucky are married and want to add peter, but he doesn't know and thinks they are just being nice to him while in reality they are flirting with him, i know perhaps it has been done before but I really like this kind of fics so i tought i would ask. Thank you 🙂

It started out simple. Steve and Bucky both individually inviting Peter out to different outings. Coffee shops, art galleries, car shows, breakfast here lunch there.

Then as a couple taking Peter out to dinners, dates to Coney Island, walks through central park. Of course Peter didn't think much of it. He knew that Steve and Bucky were together so he never allowed to himself to think that they could be trying to flirt/date with him.

So what if sometimes they all cuddle together on the couch for movie night. Or how Steve is always running his fingers through his hair. Bucky holding his hand on walks. Even when he leaves for the night they kiss him on the cheek after they walk him to his door.

Its even to where they call/facetime him when they don't hang out. And that one time when that Peter managed to convince them to go clubbing. After someone one tried to buy Peter a drink and they got extremely overprotective. They all three danced together with Peter smushed between them. Peter thought maybe alcohol was finally affecting him and his memory of that night.

And maybe Steve and Bucky thought that Peter was on board already til Peter was having a no good terrible rotten worst day ever. He lets it slip out that he is tired of being alone. Hated his lonely twin mattress, how he wished he had someone like how Steve and Bucky have each other.

" Doll, we have been dating you for months, didn't you know?"

" Queens, we don't invite just anyone to date night or to have sleepovers"

" Oh. ... but what...no. ummm.... really? "

" Doll we got to have a serious talk. You even have a draw of clothes at our place"

" Hey! I thought ya was just being nice! "

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I have several little prompts or ones shot short ficlet like this BUT I LOVE these types of scenarios! Which is why I always play around with it! Hope you liked it!

#asks #writing prompt #winterspidershield #stucky plus peter #stucky #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #spidershield #shieldspider #winterspiderpurrs

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thelegofamilyau · 2 months ago

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The 100 yard stare

For all the fun of Logan, for every bad song, every punch in the arm, every laugh there was something beneath the surface.

Logans 100 yard stare.

It was quiet often the dream chasers found Logan's stare and it never failed to chill them to the bone.

For Cooper, the frist time he saw it was at coney island.

Cooper had steped away to take Mateos phone call. It was the fight that almost ruined there friend ship. As Cooper yelled into the phone he walked over to where he saw Logan on the dock.

Cooper froze seeing him.

Logan, leaning back with his hands in his hoodie pocket. He stared into the sky. Cooper fallowed his gaze and looked at the lightning that flashed in the sky. He felt the wind pick up as Mateo hung up on him.

There was a flash before Logan turned his head to Cooper. It was almost like Logan had to flip a swtitch before he put on a grin.

"So what did that loser want?" Logan laughed as he wrapped his arm around Coopers shoulders.

And while Izzie is the most hyper active person on the planet she saw it too. At lunch.

There was on day a week where she thought none of her friends had the same lunch as her. That was until she found Logan sitting alone in the cafeteria. It was the strangest thing. Seeing him frown. His eyes locked onto a cup of ice. Just ice. And he just sat there staring, no, watching, watching ice melt. She almost saw tears well up in his eyes.

That was until Logan saw her. He quickly jumped onto his seat and yelled- "Izzie! Over here!"

Logans smile had always been infectious so she forgot about it immediately as she ran over.

Zoey thinks when she discovered Logans 100 yard stare was the scariest. They where on a mission in the dream world when they fell into a cavern made of dirt. Not even anything fun like chocolate dirt or a cave of crystals, just dirt.

"We have your signal, we'll be there in 5 minutes dont move" Albert said over the coms. Zoey dream crafted a purple light to fill the cave and that's when she saw it.

Logan was staring at his feet as he dugg the toes of his shoes into the dirt. His stare hard and cold but Zosy could see longing in his eyes. But to her it was terrifying. And it was terrifying because she knew that look. She had that look when her mom died and her dad left. The look of having someone important ripped away from you. And also the determination to do whatever it takes to get them back.

But as soon as the rope dropped down into the cave Logan shot up and cheered. "Finally! What took ya guys!?"

And the last dream chaser to see Logans stare was Mateo. The two had been partnered on a mission and surprisingly Logan hadn't complained. Which Mateo felt weird about. They had decided to take a break, the part of the dream world they where in was dark so they made a fire. About 10 minutes had passed when Logan caught Mateo's eye. Logan was staring into the dancing flames of the fire. And Mateo doubted Logan even felt the tears run down his face.

"Mateo. Promise me something." Logan stare didn't break, and at this point Mateo wasn't even 100% sure he was taking to the real Logan. "Promise me. Promise me you'll kill the nightmare king the frist chance you get." And Mateo had no idea why Logan would ask him of such a thing. And he especially didn't know why he said. "I will."

But he's glad he did. Because as soon as Mateo stabed the Nightmare king to death with his pencil and the former king turned to sand a door appeared and opened.

Logan fell to his knees infront of the dream chasers as they watched 4 men walk through the door.

The ninja of Lightening.

The ninja of Ice.

The ninja of Earth.

And the ninja of Fire.

Logans eyes never left the ninja as he sobbed.

"Logan?" The Fire ninja asked with a broken voice.

Zoey went to Logans side and the others fallowed. She grabed his arm and Mateo grabed the other. And with the help of Izzie and Cooper they lifted Logan up.

Logan sniffed, breathing in all his snot. He looked around him at his friends before he wiped his face.

"Are....are you the ninja? Are you Kai, Cole, Zane and Jay?" Logans eyes finally turned back to the ninja. "Are you my fathers?"

It wasn't even a second later Logan was in there arms.

Logan had known it was prophecies that a powerful dreamer, with the ability to create life in and out of the dream world would kill that nightmare king. And Logan had known that when the Nightmare king was killed, the portal to home would open to him. And home he was taken from at not even a month old.

Logan looked at Mateo through the limbs of his fathers. He smiled as he stared at his friends. "Thank you" was all he managed.

Thank you.

Thank you for seeing me.

Thank you for understanding.

Thank you for bringing me home.

Thank you for being my home.

#felt too lazy to post and tag this on AO3 so ill do it in the morning #the lego familly au #lego ninjago #lego dreamzzz #lego dreamzzz logan #polyninja #ao3 fanfic #crossover #ninjago kai #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago jay #ninjago

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justcallme-bucky · 1 year ago

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Were you ever scared that you would lose Steve in the War?

I lost Steve every time we went somewhere back in the 40s. The movies? Outside getting his ass handed to him because he told someone to be quiet. Stark Expo? Off forging documents for the umpteenth time to join the Army. Coney Island? Off in an alleyway vomiting up his lunch after the coaster. That man needs a goddamn tracking chip.

Oh...you meant....right. Nah, he seemed pretty indestructible and it was more about feeling useless since he no longer needed my protection and losing him to a new life without me. Thanks for bringing back those rough memories. But hey, I didn't have to worry for too long, i fell off a fucking train and was left for dead and experimented on for 70 years.

@cap-steverogers

#ask bucky barnes #bucky barnes musings #bucky barnes rp #bucky barnes #captain america #steve rogers

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gay-jewish-bucky · 2 years ago

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Thinking about Steve and Bucky going swimming at Rockaway beach near Coney Island like they used to as kids. Often, they'll invite Sam and Nat and Maria, and pack a picnic lunch and just have fun together (Bucky often ending up as a sand mermaid when he takes a nap).

#marvel #mcu #stevebucky #stucky

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spartansuttons · 4 months ago

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Quick trip downtown to set up some new chairs in my office. Lauren and G with a little downtown exploration, a stop at the Nike Store, and then American Coney Island for lunch!

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lnsfawwi · 7 months ago

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it started with an anniversary gift.

"95th anniversary of the first time we met." steve said, shoving a bento box his way.

"you mean the first time I saved your ass." bucky took the lunch box, opened it, and stared. "what is this?"

"bento box. lunch. it's rice with..."

"I know what it is, steve. but what the hell is this?" bucky pointed at the heart-shaped rice, the lemon slices on top of the salmon that were also put together like a heart and the vegie salad that shined suspiciously. there was also a stick-it note on the inside of the box that just said 'love, steve'.

steve actually flushed. "I saw this on the internet. apparently women in Japan do this for their husbands to show affection."

"first of all, women in Japan deserve better. second of all," bucky smirked, "are you saying you want to be my housewife, stevie?"

"shuddup, jerk, I was trynna be romantic."

"it is. I love it. actually, lemme show you how much I love it."

oh bucky loved it.

the presents just kept coming, and getting more random as the occasion got more random as well.

bucky got a bunch of hair ties for international women's day ("they are on sale, buck!"), all the different kinds of hotdogs from the nathan's in coney island for international children's day because they loved that as kids, a bottle of artisan moonshine (which bucky refused to believe was a thing, like what the hell was so artsy about moonshine?) on george barnes' birthday because even during the prohibition old barnes always had some stash, a nice custom-made pistol on the 10th anniversary of the day steve peeled off the mask from bucky's face ("this's twisted, rogers."), a beautiful bouquet of flowers just because.

bucky never expected to get something for international mother's day though.

bucky was wakened by a series of kisses and greeted by a nice breakfast in bed. it was lovely, but also weird. "are you pregnant?"

"I hope not."

"then what's all this?"

"it's mother's day."

"so?"

"so you are the mom friend of our little friend circle!" steve said cheerfully. "happy mother's day!"

"why do I tolerate you?"

"cus you love me."

"unfortunately."

#experimental writing #why do I always envision steve as some smitten puppy #stevebucky

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jxncywarrior · 1 year ago

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Stranger Things characters and ships as Taylor Swift albums

Part Nine: evermore

*Disclaimer: I’m tagging all the ships and characters featured. I’m gonna try not to be biased. MOST of these are strictly based on canon. No hate to ANY ships or shippers.*

willow: Steddie (Eddie’s POV)

“They count me out time and time again. Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind. But I come back stronger than a 90's trend”

champagne problems: Stancy (Nancy’s POV)

“Love slipped beyond your reaches and I couldn't give a reason”

gold rush: Byler (Will’s POV)

“I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush”

‘tis the damn season: Ronance (Nancy’s POV)

“You could call me babe for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, write this down. I'm stayin' at my parents' house and the road not taken looks real good now”

tolerate it: Will to Lonnie

“Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow. I know my love should be celebrated. But you tolerate it”

no body, no crime: Stancy (Steve’s POV)

“Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen. And I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene. Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me ("She was with me dude"). Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”

happiness: Byler (Will’s POV)

“When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt? Ihope she'll be a beautiful fool. Who takes my spot next to you”

dorothea: Byler (Mike’s POV)

“The stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo. And if you're ever tired of being known for who you know. You know, you'll always know me”

coney island: Byler (Mike’s POV)

“The fast times, the bright lights, the merry-go. Sorry for not making you my centerfold”

ivy: Byler (Will’s POV)

“I wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed. He's in the room. Your opal eyes are all I wish to see”

cowboy like me: Stancy (Steve’s POV)

“And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. And the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one. And the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town. But that was all before I locked it down”

long story short: Elmax (El’s POV)

“'Cause I fell from the pedestal. Right down the rabbit hole. Long story short, it was a bad time. Pushed from the precipice. Clung to the nearest lips”

marjorie: Jonathan to Will

“What died didn't stay dead. What died didn't stay dead. You're alive, you're alive in my head”

closure: Stancy (Steve’s POV)

“It wasn't right. The way it all went down. Looks like you know that now”

evermore: Jancy (Jonathan’s POV)

“I thought of you (all the things that will be lost now). In the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?). I dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again). (If you think of all the costs). It was real enough (whether weather be the frost). To get me through (or the violence of the dog days). (Out on waves being tossed). But I swear (is there a line that we could just go cross?). You were there”

right where you left me: Byler (Will’s POV)

“Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it. She's still 23 inside her fantasy. How it was supposed to be. Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it”

it’s time to go: El to Brenner

“15 years, 15 million tears. Begging 'til my knees bled. I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all. Then wondered why I left. Now he sits on his throne in his palace of bones. Praying to his greed. He's got my past frozen behind glass. But I've got me”

Links to other parts of this series: Debut, Fearless, Speak Now, Red, 1989, reputation, Lover, folklore

#steddie #stancy #byler #ronance #will byers #lonnie byers #elmax #jonathan byers #byers brothers #jancy #stranger things #eleven #el hopper #martin brenner

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oldbaton · 2 years ago

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nobody wants performance to be messy or provocative or gross anymore. like... what are these people doing in a mosh pit.

i go to these punk/goth rock shows in coney island once a month for most of the year and theyre amazing. dirty grungy. people spitting and stripping and putting shit up their ass. its such a release! ive had a drag artist completely naked make out with my ear. during ladies who lunch one time in the east village. it was amazing.

and im not trying to be dismissive of conversations that are important! i wanna be clear about that!

but like. art is societally transgressive sometimes. (note the word societal meaning violating societal norms, it should never be personally transgressive to you or violate you). and what about it. people spit in their hair at punk shows and shotgun beers and throw it in the crowd. lol

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carewyncromwell · 1 year ago

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Just because they've been in my sketchbook a long while and I haven't done anything with them since they didn't really turn out the way I wanted...here are a few unfinished doodles I've done over the last year!

Starting with the top left, we have Carewyn and Merman!Orion, as referenced in that one short Mermay AU I did a year ago with Carewyn as a performer on Coney Island --

In the midst of Carewyn singing this song, however, the other four members of the Circle of Khanna were startled to realize that the Manta – who’d been curled up out of sight in the tank at the far corner of the stage – had actually gotten up off the ground and floated up to the top of the tank, sticking his head out above the water and resting it down on his arms perched on the edge of the tank so he could listen. His eyes had even drifted closed while Carewyn was singing, as if relaxing. And when Carewyn stopped singing and actually looked up at him, his black eyes softened noticeably, and he nodded slowly and approvingly.

On the top right, we have an unfinished 10-year-old!Jacob, 2-year-old!Carewyn, and the old Bach family cat Ella under the Christmas tree, as referenced in this one short fic I did earlier this year around Father's Day --

As Jacob told the story [of Hansel and Gretel], he took every opportunity he could to make Carewyn laugh, putting on his best imitation of his snippy English teacher when reading for the woodcutter’s wife and a cackling, “old-lady” voice for the witch. It entertained both Carewyn and Jacob greatly. Carewyn liked the first story so much that Jacob went on to read two more – Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella – after which Carewyn started to nod off. Her head drooped down onto her brother’s shoulder, and Jacob smiled fondly down at her before, taking care to avoid Ella the cat, he slid both himself and his little sister out from under the tree and scooped her up so he could carry her upstairs to bed. The old Siamese cat proceeded to follow Jacob and Carewyn upstairs, only breaking off once Jacob had put Carewyn to bed and closed the door.

Next, on the bottom left, we have Jacob's usual look while working as a barman for the Three Broomsticks, as referenced in this drabble I set during Carewyn's seventh year. (I didn't finish this one because seriously, Jacob, your muscled arms will be the death of me.)

The bottom middle obviously is Ghost-Bride!Carewyn from my Haunted Mansion AU, featuring the infamous clock featured in the original ride -- I'd been visiting Disneyland on one of my days off work that day, and while re-riding the Haunted Mansion (my personal favorite ride), I started drawing her in the queue and then finished her up while eating lunch at the Golden Horseshoe. I actually got a few families looking over my shoulder both in the line and at the restaurant watching me work, which made me blush! XD

And finally, thanks to some asks and prompts earlier this year making me remember how much I love him, the bottom right is my Marauder Era boy Ed Rosier and his OTL Regulus Black, back in their school days. Ed's face claim is Sebastian Stan, and when Ed was young, he used to dye his hair blond the way Seb has in some of his lesser-known non-Marvel-associated films (such as I'm Not Here). Ed did this as to better set himself apart from his older brother Evan, who Ed was constantly confused for, due to the two brothers' strong visual similarity, as well as constantly overshadowed by. It was only after losing Regulus, being disowned by his family, and learning of his brother's death that Ed went back to his natural hair color, making him much more resemble Seb as Bucky Barnes. Regulus's inspiration for this sketch was everyone's favorite fancast for him, Timothee Chalamet, even if personally I imagined Regulus having straight hair and looking much more like Skandar Keynes while originally reading the books.

Much love, all! Hugs and kisses! xoxo

#hphm #marauder era #my art #personal #in-progress #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #jacob cromwell #ed rosier #regulus black

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