#despite how disappointing flo was there still were some parts i liked about it!

[zestyleaf]

Right after fantasy life online, a disappointing shadow of the 3ds classic built on predatory gacha microtransactions, dies a pathetic death after barely a year released in english, a brand new switch game rises from its ashes. Literally would have never guessed this would happen

[alarrytale]

Marte, there was an ask at Gina’s about h*livia - how H’s whole team turned into her biggest fans, his mom liking her posts weeks after bua etc. But this fact what Gina said is probably the worst for me: “…I really will never forgive Ol**ivia for being such a narcissistic demon that she threw away her family, ignored her film, tried to damage Flo's reputation, hurt Harry's image (although he's to blame there, too), overshadowed the respect My Policeman deserved (again, Harry was a part of that, too)…”. I joined the fandom in late summer 2022 but that woman made me feel weird without even knowing what she had actually done to her own movie and H. I still very clearly remember how madly angry H made me feel during that short period when DWD promo was on peak (August 2022 - October 2022) because he hadn’t done literally anything so save himself a bit. The only exception was his chaotic behaviour in Venice and totally ignoring her on the red carpet so it felt like little victory but then buried it all with that (yet another) awful pda with her when that movie went to theaters - in that moment I literally had to step away from him because I couldn’t stand seeing his face, I felt betrayed when few weeks before I saw him at TIFF premiere when he looked so comfortable and happy being surounded by other queer people who see him who he really is to kissing that awful woman once again.

Do you think H at least for himself aknowledged his ignorance behaviour? Aknowledge how much he hurt himself (and probably Louis as well)? That his stunt deal and the whole mess around it actually hurt not only him, his fans but also people involved (Flo)? Do you think when he looks back to that period of life, he’s disappointed (just like us) that his very loud gay role was totally overshadowed by pure tabloid gossips, the mess that wasn’t created by him but the fact he put his head into the sand pretending like nothing is happening didn’t help at all? And his whole team and their blind adoration for that woman, do you think he’s also not proud of it because it was obviously a really hard period for him.

Hi, anon!

I think i see things a bit differently. I think DWD was a trade off for H to be allowed to do MP. I think H was only hired for DWD for his star power and willingness to stunt with O. So for H, who so badly wanted to do MP, to be able to act out who he is and show that to the world, i think he was more willing than before to play the part with O. I don't think H's team or family are bffs with O. They were just playing their part in supporting and legitimising the relationship, and helping H with taking some of that pressure off him. Just like Louis' sister "helps" him with bg.

I don't think H or his team were prepared for the shit show that O brought, and they pulled the plug as soon as they could. Harry stayed quiet and didn’t pick sides, which was the right decision. I don't think he put his head in the sand, i think his hands were tied. He had a contract and appearances to attend with her. The Venice mess was his own form of protest against the movie. It was all he could do to communicate that he didn’t want this.

I think H and L support each other and talk about things like this before it happens. No one is hurting anybody. They know it's a stunt. They've been doing this for over a decade.

I think Harry's image took a hit during that time, and despite getting loads of attention and press for it, he had to use some time to do image rehab after and distance himself a bit from Hollywood. I don't know if he still thinks the trade off was worth it in the end, but i think he might still do.

[orleans-jester]

cryptid-killjoy​:

The simplicity of it.” Flo repeated and smiled. “Sounds like you.”

They’d just come all this way. He wanted something to look at. He supposed it was the concept of castle in him. He already had mediaeval luxury (if one could call anything from the ancient past luxury at all) in his head, that royal feeling. All this brought to mind was war. Fortress was the clear message when they approached, not a home of any kind. It felt like a place of war directly upon approach. As much of a hermit as Flotsam could be that was the difference in the feeling that he wanted when nearing castle.

He wanted to feel life not death despite being excited about murder holes. He had a fantasy the murder holes were for the special few that dared cross some sort of line in some gallant special place tucked away all secret, but the feeling upon approach of a fortress like this was, hey maybe this place has a murder hole since the whole thing looks like war and death anyway. It wasn’t really what he hoped when coming to tour. It was why he was strangely disappointed upon sight at the plainness of it was simple. It was that the plainness of it was unwelcoming and unfun. He was still hoping there was a home inside and not just a fortress. He actually had not researched this one well enough to know. He was far more a tourist here than any.  

He really wished Thomas was a chatty tour guide right now considering it was his idea to come to Ireland. Flotsam had always heard Ireland was a boring place to visit, all pubs and landscape, farms for miles and nothing to actually do. People go to Ireland to relax and do nothing is what he heard, maybe hike or ride a bike which in Flo’s opinion is something that can be done anywhere. They brought three kids. They weren’t going on a pub tour as much as Flo was the sort to take his kids anywhere. He wasn’t even the sort to just sit around in pubs all the time anyway. He hated people. Pubs were about people. He wasn’t about people. He was about activities. So he was very much waiting for Thomas to take over on this vacation of Thomas’s choosing and lead. Flo can Google as much as anyone just because he happens to be here, but usually he picks a place to vacation because he knows of something cool and of interest to him to do first. He doesn’t pick a location and then find what’s fun. This was more of challenge for Flo. He’s dying inside for Thomas to point out what’s fascinating about Ireland to him because this is so not his thing. He’s only doing it because they’re there.

When they got inside there was a little more to get Flotsam’s mind involved, not at first. It was all stone ruins. Eventually they hit a few rooms. The colors continued to be boring, but he attributed that to the aged fabrics. He assumed them to be far more brilliant in their day. The room that actually interested him the most was a child’s room oddly. He stood in there the longest. He kept waiting out other tourists. He really didn’t like the crowds there. The lines of people were annoying. Now he remembered why he toured everything in New Orleans after dark illegally or forced people out. He really did hate still hate people breathing near him and getting in his way despite how it did not show one little bit. He lived for those moments he and Thomas got a moment alone with the kids and they could simply admire on their own even if it was just a few minutes.

“Got everything you need in here for ol’ Rumpelstiltskin to come steal your kid away. Spin that straw into gold. I can’t believe this is a kid’s room. If that’s suppose to be a baby walker or a piss pot holder, I don’t know, but we’ve come up in the world. Pfft. A bed warmer. Obviously none of these people had you in their bed.” He teased his husband.

What really caught his eye in the room was the woodwork on the posters around the bed that created the canopy.

“Look there. It’s not part of the bed like modern canopy beds. The canopy is a completely separate piece. You can pull the bed right out and stick another one under it if need be. Smart. So much smarter than how they’re made today. Valerie always wanted a poster bed with the drapes, or like, the mosquito netting, but they’re all metal and look like they came from Big Lots even when they’re not. You don’t see stuff like this anymore.”

Then he laughed.

“Not that she wants children carved into her posts. Is that supposed to be Cupid? I can’t tell? Are there wings?”

Moving along to mark of the bucket list of things he refused to leave Ireland until did it items and that was kiss the Blarney Stone. Now this he’d heard about somewhere before.

“I know you have to turn upside to do it. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I heard it. Probably some asshole in a bar somewhere.” First however, there was standing in the long line of others waiting to kiss the stone. Annoying, but no big deal. More annoying because they had three wee ones with them. The more they held still the more the little ones wanted to move. That’s how it usually worked. There also wasn’t a lot of room for the stroller in the interweavings of the castle, so many skinny places, so they’d abandoned it outside. Flo figured they’d get back to it when they went to stroll the gardens.

When they got close enough to see an old gent helping people turn around to reach down into this ridiculous position to kiss a flat wall Flo became once again slightly disappointed. He was going to do it and he refused not to do it. That was his whole goal here, but to see this famous Blarney Stone wasn’t some beautiful, special, thing, or even some boulder plotted somewhere like in cartoons, but really a flat fucking brick, which could have been any brick in this fortress, brick, brick, pick a fucking brick sort of stone, Flotsam actually snorted. Talk about hype of a tourist trap, make up a myth sort of shit. He’d rather go get his over priced picture taken with the ugly creeps in the mascot uniforms in the stupid oversized chairs in the leprechaun museum. At least there they could act silly and be weird. Here it was all safety and randos breathing down your down neck. Ugh. This was just annoying, not fun at all.

As they still had a moment before it was their turn, but close enough to see now, it was disappointing they couldn’t do this sort of thing on their own too. Flotsam didn’t want the attendant involved. He thought this was something he and Thomas were going to do together. Even if it was stupid silly he wanted to have some fun with it, but the whole way it was having to be done for liability sake just made it sort of… lame. Lame as all get out actually.

Flo was starting to get antsy the closer they got and it wasn’t excitement it was almost their turn doing it. It was annoyance as he tried to figure out how to stop the lame in it’s tracks. He had two babies on his hips so his hands were full, his foot was tapping. He was starting to breathe heavy.

He leaned into Thomas’s ear. “Are we done here? Are we done inside?  Keep them windblocked by the wall.” Then he pushed an extra baby into Thomas’s arms and peered over the high fortress wall. He looked at the line of people behind him. “Does Ireland have 911? Let’s go to the garden next. I’ve got plants to pick.”

Then as Flotsam took to his turn giving Thomas one last child to take care of for a moment he would look ever so innocent and polite as he took the man’s hand to help him lean back after climbing the 127 stairs for this lame tradition. The only thing was, as Flo went through the process, finally, he in his antsiness got his zombie dust ready, and released it right in the ol’ unassuming attendant’s face. This would cause the man to collapse on Flotsam as he was leaning down backwards in this very unsafe position.

“THOMAS!”

He’d grip the rail tight with one hand and his leg would stomp and flail as if trying to get his attention.

“Get him off me. Something’s wrong. Help.”

The whole crowd behind Thomas was gasping and pointing. Some hero types were even trying to push up behind Thomas trying to see better but it was so narrow they couldn’t yet.

The answer was yes Flotsam just zombie dusted the old man to make it seem like he had a heart attack on top of him just to be able to get Thomas down in the kissing stone hole with him and had every intention of walking away and not giving one little shit about the attendant or the rest of the people after he got what he wanted.

Admittedly, this might not be the most exciting vacation, but Thomas felt like he’d been put on the spot a bit. He put more time and attention into picking the perfect residence rather than the actual location itself. He only had a couple of hours to put it all together after all since Flotsam wanted to leave the very next day. So no, he wasn’t a tour guide, and no he didn’t know many of the attractions, and no he didn’t come up with any sort of itinerary and was playing it by ear, so maybe next time Flotsam wouldn’t just put it all on his shoulders?

He was an easy to please guy. He really enjoyed the Spanish castles and everything there, but he also liked this simplicity. As Flotsam said, it was so him. He could spend days just looking at the rolling green, the ocean coming up on their private beach, picking up seashells, watching Marrassa enjoy the constant rainfall, looking at these castles that Flotsam found boring. He liked adventure sure, but he didn’t need it the way that Flotsam needed constant stimulation.

But he was enjoying the banter that they were having, making fun of the way that these people used to live their lives. “Aye, but I’m only your bedwarmer. As long as you’re with me, you’re never going to need one,” He said, liking Flotsam’s flirty little comment, getting close to his hand as they looked at everything. “Really like the canopy posts. Wonder if they got kinky with those.”

Handcuffs could fit nicely on them, or just some regular old silky rope bindings. He wouldn’t mind having Flotsam try that out on him, actually. The cruelest type of pleasure - not being able to touch his husband but being entirely at his mercy? Yeah, he liked that.

But he totally perked up when Flotsam said that Valerie wanted something like that. “You know ... I can make something like that happen,” He offered. Not children carved on it, god no. “I’d do much better than cupids.” Maybe some eels swimming around. Add some skulls for the more macabre look that they loved. He could work with Valerie, work with Flotsam, to get it exactly as they wanted. Maybe he shouldn’t be taking on another project, what with working on the settlement and talking with Bastien about his own house idea, but he loved to make gifts for his spouse. Fuckin’ loved it.

The Blarney Stone though. There were definitely ways to bypass the line a bit. Play a little coy, a little sneaky. The babies getting fussy actually helped their cause because there were a lot of people who couldn’t stand the sound, got uncomfortable. One or two of them left because of it, and boom, one step closer to the stone.

Thomas wasn’t happy about the attendant either. In fact, once they got close enough, he was glaring, and not trying to hide it. Not a death glare but a ‘I don’t want you anywhere around me’ sort of glare. Did they not trust him to hold up his own husband? There was no one else’s arms that he was safer in. He scoffed as well, but just because of the attendant. Didn’t matter of the Blarney stone was made of solid gold and came out of a pope’s ass, he didn’t want this guy touching Flotsam, so long as he could help it.

“Sir yes sir,” He said, slight admiration and a grin when he saw that Flotsam was coming up with something that would allay both of their frustration. He took the second baby, carrying both of them easily enough in his arms. They fit in so perfectly there - it was going to be hard when they outgrew him. “999 technically,” He knew, since it was that way around the whole of the UK.

Looks like Flotsam had a bone to pick too, but that was too lame a pun, he didn’t even say it out loud.

He loaded the third baby onto that baby holding backpack that had come in handy for times like this. He was so one of those dads who would strap up with a baby in the front, and then a baby in the back sometimes. He liked surprising people. Oh, you’re behind me. Let me just turn around and - SURPRISE BABY.

He just noticed the dust, and made sure to protect the three little ones in case some of it spread it into the air with the wind and Flotsam’s blow. And then fucking right he was all up in there, giving the attendant a shove - maybe a little more harsher than was needed, but then took hold of his husband, grabbing onto him securely. He’d never let him fall. Never let him slip. Even if Thomas himself might, he was always more steady footed when it was on someone else’s behalf.

“Gift of the Gab clearly isn’t the only magic you can do with that mouth,” Thomas said with a grin. One baby on one knee, one baby on the other, a third on his back, and arms holding onto Flotsam’s waist, his biceps working to keep the babies in place on his lap. He quite literally had his hands and everything else full, but he managed. Thank you werewolfism.

Of course people were calling 999. Get this man an ambulance. But once Flotsam got what the had wanted, the couple and their three kids would walk away without looking back. Perhaps they could be seen as cruel for doing that, but fuck that guy. Probably used that position to touch all up on people all the time anyway. He couldn’t see why else anyone would.

We reconnected with the stroller, but the babes inside, and headed to the poison garden, as was our plan.

In the storage compartment, Thomas had stashed away some bags and some gloves, knowing very well they’d be leaving with more than they came in with. He just wanted to be careful about it. Flotsam’s heart was still not a hundred percent, and it would be easier for a touch of poison to end this paradise that was their lives. He handed a pair to his husband and put some on himself. At least he had the forethought for this part.

“We should steal one of the signs,” He smirked, seeing the skull and crossbones everywhere.

After a lovely evening with his husband, lovely. Lovely. Flotsam's mind started to realize a part of them was always Valerie and just like parts of Flo remained in Val, Val's manner of speech/thinking was still in Flo. He did. He had a god damn lovely evening with his husband before packing for Ireland. Now he remembered why he missed having a dick though. How lucky was he to experience his handsome husband every way possible?

He woke in a good mood. Even going back to bottle mode didn't feel as intense as it did the first time now that he'd gotten to switch back and forth. There was a safe feeling in knowing all he had to do was take off the necklace if Valerie really needed to. All Flo's little secret fears and true wishes were out of the bag so to say and Thomas and his wolf helped put Flo at ease there too. Halloweening was on the list of to dos. So Flo wasn't freaking out. Everything was going to be okay no matter where in the world they were. He still wanted to get away after all he'd learned of himself in the middle of what else had been stressing him. So he was back to escapism mode with the vacation wanting to get away, but really, it wasn't so heavy anymore. Thomas was still being the fix it guy for him and all it took was a conversation he never wanted to have.

The first thing Flotsam did was start to write a list of things he wanted to do before leaving Ireland. Order mattered not. He found the basics, as far as basics go for him. He isn't the sort to want to tour every damn castle in Ireland or anywhere else in Europe. But, Blarney Castle he'd go for.

"Babe. So fair warning. I'm taking the kids to carry out their first felony. We will accomplish a family heist at the Blarney Castle and steal plants from the Poison Garden. Goals. I have them."

Go to Blarney Castle

Kiss the Blarney stone

Steal plants from the Poison Garden

The Northern Lights

See The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Grand Opera House in Belfast ((because it has to be fate that's playing while they're there))

The National Leprechaun Museum

Titanic Museum

Goals indeed. "Northern lights. Pretty sure there's somewhere in Ireland you can see them. I so wished you were there when I got to go to Alaska. I wished it the whole time we were staring at the sky. Not that I told anyone this back then because I was still in young crush me who refuses to tell anyone I like you in that wayish. But, we can see them in Ireland too. Even better. Your green world. Meant to be. Has to happen."

He was googling things on their way there, in parking lots, in lines, sitting around waiting for flights, all those boring moments he took his moment to play tourist. He spoke as they were on their way to the rental.

"Rocky Horror is playing at the Grand Opera House. Feels like an authentic Irish experience to me." He laughed having a hard time picturing Rocky Horror being done with Irish accents and couldn't help not smiling. "Leprechaun museum for cheesy pictures with the kids and Titanic Museum for morbid pictures of us having fun taking end of ship movie photos at what's essentially a memorial of dead people's things drudged up from bottom of the ocean, Captain. Gotta love capitalism." He said with his own cheesy grin.

He grinned over at him when he called him Captain remembering their date on the boat. He really liked that. "We should buy a boat. Also this is the last trip without Pippin. I'm getting her a damn plane for real. The one I would have ended up getting Chip. I halted on that because of his zombie-thing worried that maybe he shouldn't be flying around after all wings or not. But, Pip's still clear headed. If anything they can fly together and she can take over if he zombies out."

They were building an air strip out in Nola. It's all Feral now. They were probably never going back any how. Time to consider where to keep a private plane elsewhere.

When they finally pulled into the rental and Flotsam got to see where his escape was going to be he smiled. It felt like something Thomas would pick.

"Look at you giving us the real deal experience, Cap. This is so great. Perfect for all of us." He kept picturing him with the sea behind him. Something kept making his mind go back to that date. He remembered how Thomas looked with the blue waves of adventure behind him. But, he really did like the privacy there. With the triplets he liked their own space. He'd accept the maid service for the time being. Flo's one of those people who would rather do something himself than have people near him sometimes. So, it would be no wonder if he ever called them off or put a do not disturb on the property as a whole because fuck people. No maid outfit required for Thomas. It would probably weird Flo out if he did.

"Oh, you know what else I want to do at some point? Go to the rebel poet's pub. James Clarence Mangan. I don't know the name of it. But, I know it's in Ireland. I'll find it if I look it up. But, I heard he haunts a pub in Ireland. I'm going to find out if it's true." Leave it to Flotsam to want to go get autographs of dead celebrities, not live ones. "Maybe Leap Castle, but only because I know it's like one of the hauntedier ones and I would love to see the murder hole, but really. I don't need to see every castle in Ireland, ya feel me?"

Then right as he said ya feel me as he walking through the quaint style cottage of neutral colors he spotted the prize winner of the property. The ocean.

"Oh!"

It was ocean front property. Flotsam started to glow. He didn't need River's inner physical glow to see this beaming straight from the inside out. He stopped yick yacking and his whole face lit up.

"Oh my fucking a-hole. Look at that. Look what you did. We are sitting next to the ocean. Like... on purpose. We can just walk outside and it's... it's right there." He pointed out at it over top of the stroller he'd been pushing. "Right there." He jumped enough to where both feet came off the floor and knees rose waist high. His feet in those heavy kicks stamped back down. "Right there, Thomas. It's right there. Real ocean."

They didn't have to get into a car and drive there first, get the car and go home after, consider the light of day, or night, length of travel back for drying off, cleaning up, anything that beach brings on. It wasn't a lake shore. It wasn't a river's shore like on the old Mississippi. It wasn't a swamp. It was a real life ocean shore.

"Right. There." He kept pointing.

[fics-not-tragedies]

In a Week: Chapter 18 🌲

I think this is the most funny chapter I’ve ever written in my entire life and I think it’s the only one fully funny and sweet in this piece of fanfiction.

Words: 2122; Warnings: none; Summary: Chilling in a hot tub with Flo Andrew decides to make a little fun of them both.

Hozier tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @angelpeachamber​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @sgt-morgan​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @julessbrown​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​;

Tuesday, 5:25pm

“You reminded me that I should send my Mum some flowers” he declared.

Flo smiled.

“Do you get on with her?”

“My Mum? Yes, we’re quite close…” he considered his next words, approached them with caution then decided to say them anyway, despite the potential damage they could cause, “And she’d like you, Flo. She’d really like you…”

He tried to picture it, allowed himself the daydream as she smiled back at him softly. In a different world, back home. Bringing Flo to meet his parents knowing he was so sure of her. She’d be worrying about what dress she was wearing, would worry she overdone it with the flowers and the dessert she spent all week practicing, but his Mum would love it, bring her in for one of her killer hugs straight away. Dad would give her the same, would want to know all about her instantly, would love her stories about their adventures. Andrew was sure she’d tell it all better than he could anyway.

“Is your Mum a control freak like me then?” Flo sighed, frustrated by the lack of reality in the conversation now. As incredible as it was to imagine it all, being the girl he decided he wanted to bring home, she didn’t allow herself to wallow in it, for too long it was too cruel.

“Hmm… maybe a little…” he nodded, still beaming from the vision he’d created for himself, “And you were right about the flowers… I just finished another tour, em, that’s why I’m here for the week.”

Flo thought about asking what he was planning to do next, but part of her didn’t want to know, didn’t want to be subconsciously tracking his every move. What if she’d turn up to one of his gigs in the future, if there still was one for her, bustle her way to front row, get pushed against the barriers by the huge crowd, nod her head to the tracks she knew, hope he’d make his way down to the front and spot her. But what if he didn’t look at her in the same soft way he did now? What if there was someone else waiting for him at the side of the stage? Or worse yet, what if he’d ignored her or didn’t even recognize her?

No, she decided. It’d be better not to know, to avoid it as much as she could.

“Do you like performing?” She asked instead.

“Well, yes. I feel like I’m only myself on stage, but, em, it’s really exciting when I see all those faces screaming my words back at me. Is fantastic. Sometimes they know them better than I do.”

“Must be overwhelming in front of all those people” she shuddered and added: “I’d hate it.”

Andrew chuckled in delight at her wittiness, preparing himself for the next question he could already see twitching in her smile.

“Got a pre-show ritual? Couple of prostitutes? A bottle of absinthe?”

“Not quite” he mumbled, “We’d fancy a goat slaughter, but no venue can pull that off. We only do a small chant…”

“Slaughtering a goat sounds quite eccentric…” she teased and he screwed his nose up at her.

Tuesday, 5:30pm

There was a sudden, loud click at the door and both Andrew and Flo turned their heads towards the sound, so accustomed to being alone with each other. Another couple entered the small room in their bathing suits, both smiling until they realized it was partly occupied. She was tall and thin, had a pointy nose and dark eyes and he was shorter, a little rounder in the middle, had a face that looked permanently unamused. From the way they were clinging onto each other, they were clearly on some kind of romantic getaway. Though Flo couldn’t draw much from them straight away, the disappointment on their faces was stark. They were clearly unhappy to find another ‘couple’ in the tub, but were far too British to simply walk back out.

“Sorry, mind if we…” the woman began, “… join you…”

Flo turned her gaze to Andrew and watched him smile up at the couple just as a bright, brilliant idea, so clear on his face, occurred to him.

“It’s alright” he drawled then turned back to Flo, “We can get cozier with Hozier, can’t we, love?”

After a moment of speechlessness, her body rigid, questioning what the correct response was, Flo shot Andrew a glare like she hadn’t before.

Bastard.

She couldn’t deny that the opportunity excited her a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be near to him or ‘get cozier with Hozier’, rather that she knew she would have trouble resisting the temptation again with him that close to her. He looked so good and she caught onto his distinctive scent as he shifted around to make room for her. She clearly had no choice.

With an awkward shuffle she moved through the middle of the jacuzzi and sat down next to Andrew, instantly aware of him pressed close to her and how much she hated the outfit she was wearing. Not waiting for long, the couple sunk into the tub opposite them and there was an awkward stare off for a while, the four of them nodding awkwardly back and forth.

“Nice hotel, right?” Andrew said at last, cutting through the looming silence. He couldn’t resist chatting with them a little.

“Oh, yes, it’s lovely” the woman replied, her partner doing his best to relax and ignore them, his eyes closed.

Then, without warning, Andrew’s arm snaked around Flo’s body and he cupped her waist tightly with his hand. His fingertips pressed into the skin there and she almost squealed. Even under the water, his touch overwhelmed her and she felt drawn into him again, like she hadn’t learned a single thing from the last time. Despite it all, despite his face inches from hers, his neck adjacent to her lips, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her face was deeply flushed with embarrassment, though if anyone would have asked, she’d have blamed it on the heat. It took everything she had not to react and to play along with his game as best she could.

“We’re celebrating our fifteen year anniversary this week aren’t we, honeybee?…”

Flo stared blankly ahead, couldn’t believe he was really doing this, but then again of course she could. Honeybee? When she didn’t respond he gave her waist a quick squeeze and she moaned quietly to herself before muttering a quick “mhmmmm” out loud.

The couple were clearly uninterested, didn’t care about her response, probably hadn’t even noticed the strange body language of the couple in front of them but Andrew was persistent. “We were childhood sweethearts” he proclaimed. He was showing no signs of stopping, only just able to hide how badly he wanted to laugh. His face twitched as he fought the urge, “Stole my heart right after the first round of ‘spin the bottle’, haven’t you, honeybee?”

“Awh, that’s lovely” the woman cooed, though she was mostly engrossed on the massive glittering rock on her finger, “We just got engaged” she announced, just to better Andrew’s tale, as if the wafting and waving of her hand in the last minute or so hadn’t made that clear.

“Oh, congratulations!” Flo chimed, though she could barely focus. Andrew’s fingers began to draw lazy circles into her skin. It could have soothed her in the right time and place, but right now, with so much of her exposed, with the ridiculous game he was playing, with the stupid look on his face  she could catch from the corner of her eye all because he was winning, it was too much.

“Thank you!” The woman chimed, settling against her partner.

A few minutes passed, and though he wouldn’t have admitted it, Andrew was struggling too. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He couldn’t focus properly either, especially when Flo pressed herself into his side, rolled her knee up against his, moved her thigh against his just to make things more difficult for him.

“You staying here for long?” The man asked, clearly agitated by how competitive Andrew was with their fake relationship. Flo questioned whether he was asking about how long they’d be staying at the hotel or merely in the tub, desperate for peace and quiet.

“No, no. Got the kids waiting for us at home…” when neither of them responded, it just fueled him further: “Yes, little Jackie and Wilson. And he’s only three, bet he’s missing his Mummy, eh?” Another squeeze of her waist.

“Ahh, that’s lovely” the woman replied, though her responses were becoming more and more repetitive.

When the next silence came, Flo shook her head at him in constant disbelief, too dumbstruck to even come back at him with something as a challenge. Her hand suddenly on his knee made him jump, but he was still holding the happy couple facade together. With little fight from her, his own hand wandered down to her thigh. Aware of her heart beat and the wideness of his eyes, she was shaking, holding on to her control with everything she had and she turned to him in exasperation.

The quick movement of her head knocked a strand of hair into her eyes and without even questioning it, not part of his plan at all, Andrew moved it from her face with his free hand and tucked it neatly behind her ear. His touch was so delicate that she stared at him for longer than she should have and he stared right back at her. She watched him inhale deeply, his lips parting again as the breath left him.

“My little cinnamon bun…” he mumbled almost incoherently, barely blinking, “…we should go. I’m wrinkling like a prune in here…”

Flo could tell Andrew was struggling too, knew that they had to break apart now before it all came crashing down again and she took the opportunity to shimmy out of his touch and stand, forgetting the need to cover her body like she had before.

“Nice to meet you…” she mumbled to the couple, before darting out of the door, her legs like jelly, barely able to hold herself up. Behind her, Andrew said a goodbye Flo couldn’t hear then he quickly caught up to her.

Tuesday, 5:45pm

Surrounded by the noise of the pool water splashing and the cheerful chatter of the guests around them, they walked a couple of steps together in silence, strolling past the still water. Flo tried to gather her thoughts, tried to think of something to say. She was frustrated in more ways than one and needed him to know that. Her heart still pounding in her chest she suddenly turned to him, a clear intention in her eyes. Andrew was already laughing.

“Are you fucking for real?” Flo said, raising her voice as much as she was comfortable with, her teeth gritted.

“You bet I am, babe” he giggled, mocking his innocence.

“Don’t ‘babe’’ me, Andrew…” she warned, her finger jabbing him in the chest and he pouted back at her. “Oh god I could fucking…” she stopped moving, stomped her foot on the ground in frustration.

“Don’t swear, love” Andrew giggled, tears forming in his eyes at the hilarity. “It’s a fucking bad habit. What if the kids heard you?”

“Jackie and Wilson?” Flo grunted. “You have some nerve, Andrew…”

“It was funny, love…”

There it was again, love, each letter dragged out mercilessly.

Flo couldn’t take it anymore. She felt something snap inside of her and without processing it fully, she pushed Andrew backwards with all her strength towards the pool. Her hand met his chest and though he was excited at first, that wild flash of promise so clear, he soon lost his control. She wasn’t stronger than him but the element of surprise aided her and she watched as he shuffled over the edge and fell backwards, flailing pathetically until he hit the water.

Flo panicked for a split second, but Andrew resurfaced with some coughing and spluttering, his eyes trying to find Flo again. His hair was in his face, mouth agape, his eyes wide with shock.

And at that sight, Flo was satisfied, smiling and bending down slightly as she spoke to him.

“I’ll be in reception” she stated, then turned on her heel walking away from him. She made sure to wiggle her hips so that he had the perfect view of her overexposed ass as she left him and even though he couldn’t see her face, he knew the exact powerful smirk she was wearing.

Okay, Andrew decided, he deserved it.

[lightsupinthenorth]

A little coffe with your sugar? part 2/2

Here is the second part of my Harringrove coffee shop AU. Enjoy ;) 

Part 1

Read on AO3

Steve couldn’t believe he had forgotten to ask what was in the special before ordering it… and taking a huge bite of it, just because he had been flustered that his crush (that Steve thought totally unrequited until then) was flirting with him. It hadn’t helped that Billy had put the banana layer under the chocolate, so Steve hadn’t noticed there was one before it was literally in his mouth, trying to kill him. Steve felt betrayed. Baked goods were supposed to be his friends.

 Billy waited with him after calling 911. He looked calm enough, but he was holding Steve’s hand very tightly. In any other circumstance, Steve would have been delighted about that, but his throat was swollen, and he was struggling to breathe, so it wasn’t the best time.

 Thankfully, the paramedics arrived quickly and injected Steve with epinephrine. They took him to the hospital, and Billy rode with him in the ambulance, never letting go of his hand. His eyes looked suspiciously shiny.

 “Hey, I’ll be fine, Billy. They’re just taking me to the hospital for observation. That’s the usual procedure after an anaphylactic reaction. Thankfully, my parents insist on paying for an overpriced insurance in my name, so I’ve got it covered.”

 They were doing it mostly to patronize Steve for choosing a job that didn’t have “good benefits”, unlike a job at his father’s company would have, but Billy didn’t need to hear about that.

 “That… that’s good.” Billy exhaled shakily. “It was fucking scary.”

 “I know, but it’s okay now.”

 “No, it’s not. I’m sorry, I should have told you what the special was.”

 “Come on, I’m the one responsible, obviously. I should have asked. I generally remember to, I was just distracted.”

 “So, it is my fault: you didn’t think to ask because I was messing with you.”

 Oh… so that was all it had been? Billy had just been messing with him? Steve should have known, really. Billy had probably caught on to Steve’s crush and thought he’d have a little fun.

 That thought was nearly as much as a bummer as the allergic reaction.  

 “Look, Billy, it was all an accident, and it was my fault. You couldn’t possibly have known.”

 “If you say so…” Billy replied, but he didn’t look convinced.

 The rest of the trip to the hospital was spent in silence. Steve was busy enjoying the feel of Billy’s hand in his while he still could, since he was pretty sure it wouldn’t happen again, and Billy was seemingly lost in thought.

 At the hospital, Billy texted Robin to let her know about what had happened and he informed Steve she’d be there soon.

 When she arrived, Billy apologized again (the stubborn bastard) and bid Steve goodbye. Steve whished he’d stay, but now that Robin was there he had no reason to. It was nice enough that he had interrupted his work day to accompany Steve in the first place.

 “Stop pouting, it’s unbecoming.” Robin told him.

 Steve hadn’t even noticed he was making a face.

 “Cut me some slack, I could have died today.”

 She rolled her eyes. “That’s a low blow, dingus.”

 It might have been, but Steve didn’t care. He was feeling miserable.

 “So, what happened?” Robin asked.

 Steve cleared his throat. “Uh… well… I… Turns out there were bananas in today’s special…”

 “And how come you weren’t aware of that? I’m sure Billy knows what ingredients he puts in his baking.”

 Steve wanted to lie to save himself from the embarrassing truth, but he couldn’t come up with any explanation. He was tired, alright?

 “I… I didn’t ask… what was in it.”

 “How in the world did you forget something so important?”

 Could Robin give him a break? He’d just gone through a traumatic experience. She was being mean! Steve crossed his arms over his chest.

 “My mind was somewhere else.” That’s it Steve, stay vague. You’ve got this.

 Robin arched an eyebrow. “Where was that, exactly?”

 Ugh, she wouldn’t let it go.

 “Well… Billy might have somehow flirted with me, and it got me flustered. What can I say? I’m just a man. You can’t blame me.”

 Robin sighed. “Ah, Steve. My dear friend. My favorite dingus. You are a disaster.”

 “That’s rude.” Steve whined.

 “Maybe, but that’s also true.”

 He didn’t have anything to say in his defense. It really was true.

 “Billy flirted with you though. That’s good!”

 Robin had known Steve was crushing on Billy ever since Steve himself knew (which was to say, since the moment he met Billy).

 “Not really. He only flirted as a joke, so…”

 “What makes you say that?”

 “The fact that Billy explicitly said he was messing with me, for starters.”

 “Oh… That’s weird.”

 Robin looked confused, which was new. Steve had never seen her confused about anything. Unlike himself, Robin seemed to know what she was doing at all time. She generally had things figured out, and Steve was lowkey impressed by that.

 “Why?”

 “Oh… uh… It’s just… I had the feeling Billy liked you back, is all.”

 Steve scoffed.

 “As if. Have you met him? He barely tolerates me, on good days.”

 “Don’t be ridiculous, Steve. Sure, he can be a bit gruff sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he ‘barely tolerates’ you. Don’t be overdramatic.”

 “I’m not.” Steve denied half-heartedly. He didn’t know why he even bothered.

 *

 After the allergy incident, Steve steered clear of the Upside-Down café, no matter how many times Robin tried to drag him there. He pretended not to miss it, but he was: he’d been moping for weeks.

 He needed sugar as well as his weekly dose of Billy. He could get the sugar somewhere else, but it just wouldn’t be the same. Billy made the best treats. Steve would die for one of his cinnamon rolls right now. He groaned.

 Robin, who was sprawled on the couch next to him, reading a book while Steve was grading papers, sighed loudly.

 “Ugh, I’ve had it with you, dingus. Just get your ass to the Upside-Down and talk to Billy. You’ve been miserable for ages and I can’t stand it anymore.”

 She was shooting daggers at Steve with her eyes.

 “Rob, we’ve been over this… I just can’t. I’m too embarrassed. I mean, the guy mock-flirted with me and it made me so dumb I forgot to ask about allergens. He left work to come with me to the hospital, just because he felt obligated or something. That’s mortifying. I can’t ever face him again.”

 “And here you are, being overdramatic again.”

 Steve stuck his tongue out at her, behaving as maturely as one of his pupils.

 *

 Steve ended up caving. Robin was nothing if not persistent. The fact that Steve missed the Upside-Down’s baked goods acted in her favor.

 It went surprisingly fine. Heather was at the counter, as she almost always was, and Billy didn’t come out of the kitchen while Robin and Steve were there. Steve was slightly disappointed, but mostly relieved. Robin, however, was in a sour mood.

 “What’s with you?” Steve asked, simultaneously stuffing his face with food. It was even better than he remembered.

 “Nothing… I’m just annoyed.”

 “Is there something wrong with you and Heather?”

 Their interaction earlier had sounded a bit stilted.

“You know what? Yes, there is. I’m going to talk to her to… you know… clear the air. If you don’t mind…”

 “Of course, I don’t mind. Go for it.” Steve said, taking another bite of his cinnamon roll.

 Robin went behind the counter and started whispering frantically with Heather.

 Steve swore he heard them mentioning some guy. Were they fighting because of a man? No, there was no way. Robin and Heather were the gayest girls to ever gay, and they were also made for each other, so it didn’t compute.

 At some point, they both turned toward Steve, which made him realize he’d been staring. He averted his eyes and hid his face in his giant hot chocolate cup, nearly chocking on the liquid.

 They got back to whispering for a few seconds and then stopped abruptly. Robin came back to their table and sat down heavily.

 “I take it you didn’t solve the issue?”

 “Not really, no. But we’re going solve it, alright.” Robin replied.

 Well, that was enigmatic. Either that or Steve had missed something. It wouldn’t be the first time…

 “Ok… good for you, I guess?”

 “You’ve got some icing on your chin, dingus.” Robin pointed out, effectively changing the subject.

 Steve blushed and rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. He was lucky Billy, whom he was still very much crushing on despite everything, had not been there to witness that. Not that it would change much, since Steve’s chances were already ruined (or, more accurately, had been nonexistent to begin with)… but still, Steve had dealt with enough embarrassment where Billy was concerned.

 *

 Steve started going to the Upside-Down regularly again. At first, he would only go once in a while, and only if Robin went with him, but the frequency of his visits increased when he felt confident that he wouldn’t see Billy. He never came out of the kitchen when Steve was there.

 Either Steve’s allergy had made him realize Steve was a disaster from which he’d better stay far away, or it was a coincidence that Billy was occupied when Steve came to the café. The first option was more probable, unfortunately.

 And, Steve was mostly fine, even if he missed seeing Billy. The food was still great, and Heather was nice, and at least no one judged him for the amount of sugar he poured in his hot beverages… or if they did, they did it discreetly.

 However, it came to a head, one day. One very bad, terrible day. One of Steve’s pupils had broken his leg during recess, which was awful enough, but then the other kids had been unable to concentrate for the rest of the day, whispering among themselves and fidgeting continuously. Steve couldn’t blame them for that, but he was exhausted, nonetheless. And he was as shaken up as his pupils, after the accident. By the end of the day, he was barely functioning. He had tripped on his undone shoelaces and snapped his glasses in two (he had fixed them with tape, but the result left a lot to be desired), and he had a cut on his forehead from when he hit it on his desk after picking up the pen he had dropped on the floor.

 Steve was more than ready for this hellish day to be over, but no such luck. His parents insisted he ate dinner with them on the fifteenth of each month, which was precisely that day. They’d proceed to pretend caring about him while criticizing him at every turn, and all that through a seemingly unending meal. It was the same damn thing, every month. Steve didn’t know why he still showed up. It must have had to do with his aversion to conflict.

 Steve would never survive this without caffeine, so he stopped at the Upside-Down on his way home from work.

 “Wow, what the hell happened to you?”

 He knew he looked a bit worse for wear, but it couldn’t be that bad. Could it?

 “Hi, Heather.”

 “Oh yeah, sorry, hi Steve. Are you okay?” Concern was etched upon her face.

 “Yeah… I’m fine.” Steve lied. “It was just a rough day.”

 “Certainly looks that way... What can I get you to make it better?”

 “Er, double expresso, please.”

 Heather looked even more concerned as she rang Steve up. That was far off from what he usually ordered, so he didn’t blame her for being puzzled. He was tired, and depressed, and just needed a boost to go through dinner with his parents without a nervous breakdown. He simply couldn’t be bothered to come up with anything more elaborated, and, anyway, he couldn’t really order a pastry and hot chocolate barely an hour before he was expected to eat a five-course meal.

 “Okay, go sit down, I’ll bring it to you.”

 “Thank you.”

   Steve went to his usual table, and he definitely heard it when Heather went to the kitchen and yelled at Billy to come see Steve. He also heard Billy answer in a lower voice that he just couldn’t.

 It wasn’t as if Steve didn’t know Billy didn’t want to see him, but hearing him say it, especially now, was like a punch to the gut. At least, before, Steve could pretend Billy didn’t hate him.

 When Heather brought him his double expresso, Steve thanked her again. And, if his voice cracked, it was nobody’s business but his.

 “No problem, honey.” She said with a sad smile.

 Great. Now, she was pitying him. Because Steve was pitiful.

 Once she was back behind the counter, Steve took a sip of his drink and instantly regretted not ordering something with ten times more sugar in it (and to hell with dinner at his parents’).

 Oh no.

 Now he was crying.

 Brilliant. That was just brilliant.

 Steve started dabbing his face with a napkin, but the tears kept coming uncontrollably. He was going to get up and leave, because crying in public was not part of his plans for the day (and too many things had gone off plan already), but he was prevented from doing so when Billy put a tray on the table and sat in front of him. On the tray, there were a huge piece of lemon meringue pie, a cup of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and marshmallows, and a sugar bowl.

 Steve cried even harder. Nice gestures made him cry, sometimes. Especially when he was not in top shape.

 “No, no, please don’t cry, Steve. It was meant to cheer you up, not make it worse.”

 Billy pushed the tray toward him.

 “Come on, eat up. Everything is banana-free, I promise.”

 Steve laughed through his tears.

 “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”

 “I mean… I basically had to, Steve. Your order was too depressing. Like, a double expresso? Really? That’s not you.” Billy joked.

 “Yeah… I have to agree with you here. What you brought is much better.”

 Steve pulled the tray all the way to himself and took a bite of the pie. It tasted delicious, unsurprisingly.

 “Man, that’s not fair. That’s just too good.”

 “Uh, thank you.” Was that a blush on Billy’s face? Mh, no, probably not. It must have been a trick of the light. “So… what’s with the double expresso?”

 Steve understood Billy’s question as what it was: a nice way of asking why he had broken down crying in the middle of the Upside-Down.

 “Some shit happened at the school I work at. It was not the best day, is all. And now I have to go to my parents’ house for our monthly dinner, and I hate it. Hence the double expresso. I needed caffeine.”

 “I see… That’s rough, man. Do you want to talk about it?”

 “Maybe another time.” Steve would surely start crying again if he had to expand on the events of that day.

 “Okay. Did you think to disinfect that cut on your forehead?”

 “Oh, yes. One of my coworkers did it for me.” It had stung like a bitch, too, but what could you do?

 “That’s good, Pretty boy.”

 “Don’t call me that.” The words were out of Steve’s mouth before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

 “Oh… sure. Sorry.” Billy passed a hand in his curls. “Do you want me to go?”

 “No, no… I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry. I just don’t like it when you call me this, but we’re fine as long as you don’t.”

 It was only half a lie. Indeed, if Steve did like the nickname itself, he didn’t appreciate Billy using it as a joke. There was no need to rub Steve’s crush in his face. Steve didn’t understand Billy’s deal. One second he was really sweet, bringing him hot chocolate and pie to cheer him up, and the next he’d call Steve Pretty boy as if he hadn’t admitted he’d come up with the nickname just to mess up with him.

 “I won’t.”

 Not wanting to let an awkward silence settle, Steve asked Billy about his day. Billy then proceeded to tell him about the annoying customer they had a few hours earlier. It successfully distracted Steve from his horrendous day until he had to go, lest he arrive late to his parents’, which would without a doubt warrant a lecture from his father, as if Steve was sixteen instead of twenty-five.

 That evening, as Steve’s father ranted for the umpteenth time about his job, Steve only had to think about the blue of Billy’s eyes to make his frustration and feeling of inadequacy evaporate like smoke.

 *

 After Steve’s breakdown, Billy started coming out of the kitchen again to see Robin and Steve when they were at the Upside-Down. Steve and he were friendly to each other, and it was somewhat worse than when they never saw each other. This was torture. Billy was here but still out of reach, and Steve was pining. That was what Robin said. She was right, but Steve would not admit it. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Pettiness was his only comfort, so he didn’t plan on reigning it in.

 “Come on Steve, you should just tell him you like him.”

 “Are you nuts? Why would I ever do that?”

 “Well, at least you’ll know for sure.”

 “I can’t be any surer than I am right now, Rob.”

 “Ugh! Like, yeah you’re sure, but you’re wrong! You stubborn bastard.”

 Steve rolled his eyes. Robin kept saying he might have misread the signs, but she had no proof of that. Or, if she had, she wasn’t willing to share it with the class.

 “Yeah, okay, I’m wrong. Whatever. At least I have some dignity left.”

 Not much, after the allergy AND the breakdown, but still a little bit more than he would if he confessed his already obvious crush to Billy only to get rejected even more explicitly than before.

 “You’re so infuriating, Steve, I swear.”

 “I love you too.” He just said, getting drinks out of the fridge.

 They were waiting for Heather, whom Robin had invited to their movie night. Steve had not been eager to spend the entire evening third wheeling, but he was reconsidering. At least, Heather would get Robin off his back by taking all of her attention. It sounded perfect, right then.

 At least, that was what Steve thought before he opened his front door to find not only Heather, but also Billy, behind it.

 Robin, that fucking traitor!

 He hid his surprise (probably badly) and invited them inside. As soon as they had their backs turned to him, Steve glared at Robin. He was also pouting, though, so it might have ruined his attempt at expressing his righteous anger.

 “Sorry for tagging along… Heather said you didn’t mind. I brought cranberry white chocolate chips cookies, and also chocolate truffles.” Billy said, putting the two boxes he was carrying on the kitchen table.

 Okay, so Steve had indeed not hidden his surprise well.

 “Uh… yeah, yeah, of course it’s fine. Thanks for bringing food. It sounds delicious.” Steve rushed out the words, speaking a tad too fast.

 Once the pizza Steve and Robin had ordered arrived, they all went to the living-room and set the food and drinks on the coffee table.

 “Oooh, we’re watching Lights Out? That’s cool. I wanted to watch it for a long time but never got around to it.” Heather said.

 Billy’s face lost all color.

 “Oh… right. That’s… cool.” His voice was slightly higher than usual.

 “Are you sure? We can watch something else, if you’re not into that kind of things.”

 High-school Steve would have made fun of Billy for being a sissy. Fuck high-school Steve, though. That guy was a grade A asshole.

 “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s fine.” Billy assured in a clipped tone.

 Steve hoped he hadn’t offended him with his question. It was the opposite of his goal.

 Heather and Robin curled up together in Steve’s big, comfy chair, which left the couch to Billy and him. Steve tried to focus on the movie, but at first he was more focused on the food, and then he was more focused on Billy, who was sitting straight and looked pretty tense overall.

 Every time a loud sound came from the tv, or something appeared suddenly on the screen, Billy would startle. Of course, it was the point of jumpscares, but Billy’s reactions were more violent than most people’s.

 “Are you okay, Billy?”

 “Yes. Just the fucking jumpscares… they’re annoying.”

 Steve wasn’t convinced Billy was alright, but he kept silent. He didn’t want to put Billy on the spot by insisting.

 About halfway through, Billy announced he was going for a smoke break and declined Heather’s offer to pause the movie. Steve waited a minute, at most, before following Billy outside. He found him sitting on the front steps of his building, without a cigarette in sight.

 “Hey… Sorry I followed you.”

 “It’s okay. I… I should have agreed when you suggested we watch something else. I just thought I’d be fine, for once. It’s just a movie, you know. But, like, I’m just too jumpy to deal with this kind of movies. I don’t like loud noises and shit.”

 Billy was bouncing his right leg. Steve sat down next to him on the stairs and put his hand over his knee to settle him.

 “I get it, you don’t have to explain yourself. Jumpscares are a cheap way to frighten the audience, anyway. We could have gone for a better movie. We can get back to the flat and watch something else if you want, I’m sure the girls won’t mind.”

 “Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I’m going to stay here a while. The fresh air is nice.” Billy assured him.

 “You want me to leave you alone?”

 “I’d rather you stay, pretty boy, but it’s up to you.”

 “Here you go again with that nickname.”

 Steve took his hand off Billy’s knee.

 “Shit, sorry.” He looked sheepish.

 “Look, I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but it kind of is a big deal to me. I just think it’s mean.” Steve said.

 He wanted to get this out of the way, so Billy and he could really become friends. Friendship was better than nothing.

 “What? Why mean?”

 Billy was frowning.

 “Well, you know I have a crush on you… I mean, you pretended to flirt with me once and I basically lost all common sense, so there’s no way you don’t know. So, I think it’s really a dick move to call me… call me that, when you clearly don’t like me back.”

 Steve had gotten worked up. It was a stupid thing to get worked up over, but his frustration had to find an out, at some point.

 “Hold on, hold on a sec. Who told you I don’t like you back?” Billy’s tone was full of disbelief.

 “Well, uh, you did. At the hospital. You said that you were messing with me when you flirted before I had my allergic reaction, remember?”

 “I didn’t mean I was just pretending to flirt with you, Steve, what the fuck? I said I messed with you because I noticed you were flustered, and I made it worse by continuing to flirt… But it was no joke. Truth is, the first time I called you Pretty boy, it just slipped out… because I keep calling you that in my mind since I met you.”

 Billy was now kneeling in front of Steve on the steps, with both his hands on Steve’s knees.

 Steve had so many questions, but one of them needed an answer more urgently than the others:

 “Can I kiss you?”

 “Can eagles fly, Pretty boy?”

 Steve was going to tell him to shut up, because Billy was being obnoxious, but he figured that joining their lips would be far more effective, and far more pleasant. So, he bent down to kiss Billy, who instantly put a hand in Steve’s hair.

 Steve had been planning on keeping it chaste, but it didn’t happen that way. As soon as his lips were on Billy’s, his restraint went up in flames. He’d been longing to do that ever since he had laid eyes on Billy, after all. And his lips were so soft, and they felt so good. He deepened the kiss, making Billy moan. He’d be very satisfied about that fact if he wasn’t too occupied getting lost in Billy.

 “Fuck, Pretty boy, you’ll be the death of me.” Billy said in a husky voice when they separated to catch their breath.

 “Well, I think I’ve died already and now I’m in heaven.”

 Billy gasped.

 “Steve, that was so cheesy.” He was smiling.

 “You can’t complain. You started it.”

 “I wasn’t complaining”, Billy assured, before going back to kissing Steve.

 Heather, who had been sent by Robin to check up on them, found them in the exact same spot an hour later.

 “Thank God, you guys finally got your heads out of your asses. I was starting to lose hope you ever would.” Heather said.

 Steve blushed and Billy rolled his eyes.

 “Okay… so, you might have been right.”

 “I might have been?” Heather arched an eyebrow.

 “Okay, you definitely were….” Billy huffed. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

 “Nope.”

 Steve could have had the exact same conversation with Robin, so he couldn’t help but laugh.

 “I mean… I did have to listen to you pine for ages. Oh, Heather, I can’t speak to Steve anymore, I nearly killed him last time. I’m a menace. And then: no Heather, I can’t be more than friends with him, it makes him uncomfortable when I flirt with him, he asked me not to do it anymore, oh but he’s so pretty, oh and his hair looks so soft, and his eyes are so big… Ugh, you were the worst.”

 Billy hid his face in his hands and groaned, probably embarrassed. He should wait until he heard what Robin had to say about Steve’s own pining. She was a hundred percent going to drag him.

Steve kissed Billy’s temple, which made him stop hiding.

 “Well, it all worked out, in the end.” Billy said, looking into Steve’s eyes.  

 “Oh no… You’re gonna be so sickeningly sweet, aren’t you?” Heather looked like she was discovering a flaw in her plan.

 “You bet.” Steve confirmed, not looking away from Billy’s eyes.

 It made sense for them to be overly sweet, after all, considering how they had met.

 *

Thanks a lot for reading! :)

[sparklemichele]

Just Friends-Part 2

Florian Munteanu X Black Reader

Part One here

You were feeling some type of way when you got off the phone with Florian and you always felt that way whenever he had a woman around. You were so sick of feeling the sting of hurt and longing for him that often times had you contemplating ending the friendship. You however knew you would never do that. You needed and wanted him in your life. You got up from bed to plan your day and hope you would not be consumed in thoughts of Florian fucking that random blonde chick. You double checked your calendar and saw you only had three clients scheduled for the day. You had your own business as a Registered Dietician and LA kept you very busy. You had clients from individuals, corporations who wanted to help their employees start or keep a healthy lifestyle to movie studios who wanted to do the same. You loved what you did for a living and you loved the flexibility it provided you. You got your workout in, shower and ran a few errands before your first client. She was a referral from one of your studios. She was just picked for a major role and needed to lose a few pounds for the big screen. You smiled when she opened the door. She was very pretty. She really did not have too much to lose in your opinion, but you knew how unforgiving the camera could be. You and Victoria were deep in conversation when the sliding glass door in the living room open and a brown and white dog flew into the living room.

“Dodger! Slow down!” a voice shouted just before running in the living room. Dodger ran right up to you sitting at the dining table and rubbed his body against your legs. You leaned over and petted the dog.

“He likes you.”

You looked up to find Chris Evans looking at you and Dodger with a huge smile on his face. You were successful in hiding your gasp. You were use to being around celebrities but Captain fuckin America was standing right in front of you. You looked over at Victoria a little confused.

“He’s my cousin. I’m staying with him for a bit.” She explained. You were wondering why she was living in such an expensive home to be a up and coming actress but that was none of your business.  You tried to concentrate on Victoria as Chris busied himself in the kitchen. When you did find yourself looking over in his direction his eyes were on you. You were happy that the appointment was finally over because you did not know how much longer you could take being in his presence. The man was gorgeous in person.

You looked over the table at Chris as he ordered his food. You still could not quite grasp how a routine nutrition appointment led to a date with Chris Evans. Not long after you left your appointment with his cousin he had called you and here you were three days later sitting with him at an exclusive restaurant. You both were having a good time even though Florian was blowing up your phone. After the third call you texted him and told him you were busy and would call him later. He had the nerve to text back asking what you were doing. You quickly text back that you would talk to him later.

“If you need to make a call I don’t mind.” Chris told you concern as he can see the frustration on your face.

“No. It’s ok.” You were livid at Florian. How could he always manage to get on your gotdamn nerves. Despite Florian’s calls your date with Chris was wonderful. As he walked you to your door you did not want the night to end. Chris leaned over and softly kissed your lips. You were slightly disappointed he didn’t tongue you down right there at your door, but you always heard he was a gentleman.

“Can I call you later?”

“Of course.”

Chris kissed your forehead and watched as you let yourself in your home. You did a silent scream of excitement and a happy dance once you were safely inside your house. You quickly changed in your lounge clothes and called Shawnee to tell her how the date was. You both were in conversation when call waiting told you Florian was calling. This muthafucker!

“Shawnee I’ll call you back.” You clicked over.

“What Flo!” You almost yelled in the phone.

“Damn! What’s wrong with you?”

“You calling me non stop when I told you I was busy. What the fuck do you want?”  

“Calm down. I wanted to see if you wanted to hit the club later tonight with a few of our friends.”

“You could have just texted me that and no.” Even though Chris was a nice distraction and had your stomach feeling like butterflies you knew you were not in the mood to see Florian flirt all night long.  

“Who were you with earlier. I saw your Instagram post of your food at some restaurant.”

“That’s none of your business.” You snapped.

“What do you mean that’s none of my business. Why you are being all secretive. We tell each other everything.”

“I have to go Florian.”

“Wait-” You hung up the phone. You were not in the mood.

You were about to settle in for the night after finishing an episode Killing Eve when you heard the doorbell rung you knew instantly it was Florian. You sighed to yourself as you shuffled to the door and opened it to irate looking Florian. He let himself in and you shut the door and prepare yourself to hear an earful. Damn he looked and smelled good.

“You fuckin hung up the phone on me!”

“I was done with the conversation Florian.”

“So, it’s like that now?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Who were you with earlier?”

“Flo, you are not my man to be over here demanding answers from me.”

Florian just looked at you as he contemplated what he just told you.

“Mhmm.” He said just before grabbing you by the back of your neck, pushing you against the wall and crashing his lips to yours. You could not help but opened your mouth to him. You lost yourself in his mouth as his massive hands roamed all over your body.

“I want you so bad.” He whispered in your ear just before nipping it. You moan as one of Florian’s hands found the inside of your lounge pants. He inserted two fingers inside you and they easily glided in as you were already wet for him. You were upset with yourself for letting it be known so easily to him that you wanted him. However, you knew he already knew that. All thoughts of your date with Chris flew out of your mind as your hips started to buck up to Florian’s fingers as his fingers fucked you.

“That’s it baby. You’re so wet. I want you to cum for me.” He whispered as his thumb circled your clit. You started to shiver as you felt the familiar prickles of an orgasm. How could he already have you on the verge of an orgasm? You shook your head to clear your mind and pulled his hand from your pants.

“Florian, no.” You slid on the wall away from him. “We can’t.”

Florian looked at you as he slowly licked his fingers.

Damn him! The way he was looking at you and licking his fingers sent more shivers down your body. Florian walked up to you and pulled you close to him and you tried to pull away, but he held you tight.

“I just need you. Just one-time Y/N. I promise it won’t ruin our friendship.”

You looked at Florian and wondered why he would think you would fall for some fuck boy logic like that.

“Yes, it will.”

“Why are you fighting this?”

“Cause I’m not about to be just one of your hit and quit its Flo. I told you that. I rather be friends.”

“Your pussy says otherwise.”

“Alright you need to go.”

Florian chuckled as he knew he was hitting a nerve. You opened the door for him to leave.

“It’s only a matter of time Y/N.” He told you exiting your apartment. You said nothing as you slammed the door in his face.

Part three soon

@mimigemrose @warmchick @readsalot73 @captstefanbrandt @titty-teetee @emmysrandomthoughts @poe-slittleraven13 @ml0103 @mitchcheckmyprofile @jojolu @curvynsweet @themyscxiras @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @dc41896 @superestrella9 @designerwriterchic @doloreschanal @young-ugly-god @groovyzombiellama @msdmc1 @nys30 @amethyst1993 @endless00paradise @mypurpose13 @regular-biitch @im-that-one-gurl @shaelyn102 @bienvenisco @crushed-pink-petals @fumbling-fanfics @jnk-812 @honeychicana @insanityismymiddlename0869 @chaneajoyyy @ateliefloresdaprimavera @sdcyumyum @queen-of-the-jabari @profoundlynerdywolf @tgigoldie @heyauntieeee @imgoldielikehawn @laketaj24

[theeternalspace]

walls that we repainted white 1/1

I had been in the Sanders Sides fandom for a little while before I started posting my own work. I read fanfics, I reblogged art. I even worked up the courage to speak to a few of you and made a wonderful friend in the form of @jittery-glittery

Thanks to her encouragement, a year ago today, I posted the first chapter of what would become the ongoing epic The Consequences of Sound. Without Flo, I don't think I would ever have posted a word. (Another chapter is going up later tonight)

I made more friends, I gradually started talking to other fanders and making friends like the awesome @i-will-physically-fight-you (who very kindly stepped in and let me break her heart while she checked my tenses for this ficlet) or the sweet and funny @romanticsanders. To name only a fraction of the lovely people I'm proud to know. I love you all and I wish I could list more but then this would be nothing but a list because I am so blessed. 

I also want to talk to a whole lot more of you and maybe one day I'll work up the courage. Social anxiety is hard as we all know.

Anyway, I wanted to do something special to celebrate my one year anniversary writing as well as still a little stunned that it had been a year already.

So I give you angst! Terrible, terrible angst. This is part of a story I've wanted to write for a very long time now and is in fact from the middle of the plot. It would eventually have a happy ending but there isn't one here. If this gets a good response I will have to write the rest but I just needed to get this part out of my head right now.

You could also call this chapter one of a story with the history planned in flashbacks, should I continue it...

walls that we repainted white

Genre: Angst. Hurt, no comfort. Miscommunication to the max.

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: Virgil/Roman. Human Au.

Warnings: Past injuries, hospital mentions, miscommunication, possible brain trauma.

Story and tag list below the cut!

walls that we repainted white

The clock on the wall was ticking.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

So loud that for a moment it was all that Virgil could hear, the steady monotonous tone of tick, tick, tick. It was even louder than his own heartbeat and he tried to time his own breathing to the beat, tried to will his racing heart to calm down. He needed to be calm but the only problem was that it felt impossible to be calm right now.

Not with Roman in the room with him, the other man examining the dirty plates in his sink as though they were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen in his whole life. Virgil felt his skin crawl, able to imagine all the thoughts that had to be running through the redhead’s mind as he stared at the evidence of Virgil’s laziness, of his disgusting life habits. Virgil knew he should have cleaned up, housework was a good way of gently exercising without pushing himself too much because there was always a comfortable surface whenever he got tired. It was a good workout for his brain as well, something slightly more mentally taxing than a mere walk, could he remember where everything went, could he put it all away without breaking anything?

Virgil had gone for a walk instead, had ignored all the not so subtle advice of his doctors and wandered out in the middle of the day without his phone.

He could see it sitting on the counter next to the dishes. It lit up as though on command, a text from Patton flashing up on the screen. The brief moment of light was enough to show him that he had multiple texts and missed calls from various friends. There are a few from a number that had no name attached, but Virgil knew the number off by heart.

He might have deleted Roman's contact info from his phone, but he had never gotten around to actually blocking him completely. Perhaps some part of him had wanted to know if Roman would care, if he would try and contact him or if he would let the friendship wither and die now that he revealed himself as the fair weather friend Roman really was.

He should block him completely. If only it was that easy in real life, if only he could press a button and not have to deal with Roman, never have to look at his stupid smug beautiful face ever again. Never have to hear him sing or the musical way in which he said his name. In Roman’s voice, his name became almost magical, imbued with far more power than it really possessed. Virgil often felt as though he could have committed any wondrous feat with the energy of Roman saying his name.

Now Virgil never wanted to hear it again. Not his voice, not his name. He wanted to block and hide Roman from his own memory and never be confronted by the inconvenient truth of Roman ever again.

Snap him out of existence.

No, not that. Virgil didn't want Roman to stop existing. His brush with the blind fury of fate had given him a new appreciation for life in any form. No matter how spiteful he might feel towards other people - and spite still made up about eighty percent of his thoughts - he wouldn't wish even his worst enemy to go through what he had done.

None of that changed the fact that despite deleting his number and ignoring him, Roman hadn't taken the hint. Strange considering Roman had ignored him first.

Apparently Roman not only tried to call but also tracked him down. Question answered. It didn't settle him - in fact it did rather the opposite, it set him on edge, made him stand stiff and to attention, aches and pains creasing deeper into his body and soul. His body was still so broken, held together by tape, determination and spite.

Virgil was so tired. The clock was ticking. They were breathing, both of them rather heavily and Virgil knew why he was so worn out and lost for breath but he couldn't start to guess what Roman had been up to, in order to warrant such heavy breathing. It was almost as though the other man had been running around although there was no reason for him to do such a thing, especially in the middle of the day.

He shifted a little, the crutch handle feeling slick with sweat under his fingers. It had been warm in the sun, so warm and Virgil had perhaps pushed himself further than he should in his impatience to be normal again.

To be whole.

It was as though he had run a mile instead of a small walk around the block. Logan would be terribly disappointed in him, but at the same time Logan should have known better than to expect anything better from the mess of a person that Virgil was stuck being. He hated the weakness that ran through his mind and body. An invisible crack on his soul that was breaking him further and further apart to go with all the physical damage that the... incident had caused him.

All his fault. The incident, the sleep that followed, the damage that he had to carry around on his back for the foreseeable future. Possibly for the rest of his life and Virgil could at least appreciate that the doctor hadn’t beat around the bush, hadn’t tried to sugar coat the pill or wrap the truth up in lies. He had been honest, brutality so, and Virgil hadn’t told Patton about those conversations.

Or Roman, but then he had no intention of ever sharing that information with Roman. He had no intention of ever speaking to Roman again and yet - and yet here they were in his kitchen, staring at the remains of last night's meal on dirty plates that festered in his sink. Virgil wasn’t ready to tell Patton either, but that was because he knew Patton would cry, would hug him and be so supportive. He would break Virgil with his kindness and Virgil would let it happen. Anything to try and make Patton feel better, even if it ripped Virgil’s soul apart in the process.

Logan, he strongly suspected, knew. Logan who was too smart for his own good, who had seen charts and overheard snippets of conversation, who knew all the medical jargon. Logan who would never bring it up first because of all the emotions that swirled around the topic.

At least Virgil could always count on Logan to want to avoid anything with unpleasant feelings because he didn’t know how to properly express them. His friend had emotions, felt more deeply than he would ever willingly admit to, but right now, Virgil couldn’t help but feel selfishly glad that he struggled to share them because it meant he got to avoid talking about it for a little while longer. The diagnoses swam in his mind, the words thick and black behind his eyelids with every slow blink.

Possible brain damage.

Tick. Tick.

“Virgil.”

His name sounded as though it has been spoken underwater, distorted and distant. Some part of Virgil wasn’t even sure if he heard it. Maybe he had just imagined it. He imagined a lot of things lately, his brain slipping like a disconnected call, the handset just gently humming to nothing and nobody.

A low level static where all manner of things could lurk.

His whole body was aching, screaming out as if on fire and begging him to sit down, to take the weight off. Virgil didn’t move though. He couldn't, not while Roman was in the room with him, not while he had to remain strong. As soon as Roman left, Virgil could collapse, could give in to the pain. He was long overdue another dose of medication, something his body was only too keen on reminding him. Virgil didn't know how much longer he could remain on his feet. The blackness of unconsciousness was calling to him.

It wasn't fair. He had spent so much time unconscious, nothing but a body in a bed and now that he was finally awake, he wanted to do nothing but sleep. More time forever lost.

Humpty Dumpty had a big fall.

Virgil didn’t understand why Roman was here at all, why he had belatedly decided to care.

When they had first met, Virgil dismissed him as a vain, shallow excuse of a man, someone who cared only for the illusion of the moment, who was delighted by the splendour, by the fireworks and emotion but not the hard work that came with anything real. At the first sign of trouble, Virgil had expected Roman to fade into the background. To some extent, he had been confounded by his own expectations.

Once, in the early days of knowing Roman, Virgil had been ranting to Patton and described him as nothing more than a vain crack of words with no substance behind them.

Later, Virgil had been ashamed of that first opinion, at being so quick to judge him after so long of being judged himself.

Now it seemed as though he had been right all along. The moment things had gotten hard - really hard, in a way none of them could have predicted - Roman had bailed. As though he had been the one with a parachute and all of Virgil’s other friends had hit the ground in the form of an uncomfortable hospital chair.

Didn't he already know that all the king's horses and all the king's men had failed to slot him back into place? Sending the prince after they already failed seemed like a fools errand because there was nothing else to be done for either of them.

“Well? What do you want?” He snapped, feeling the rage rise so swiftly and Virgil didn't want to do this. He didn't want to stand here in his kitchen, he didn't want to pick a fight with someone he had once thought was his friend, who he had once hoped could be something more.

Then again, he hadn’t wanted to lose seven weeks of his life to a hospital bed so it seemed as if what he might want was nothing more than another dream to go with all the other lost ones.

Tick.

“Virgil,” Roman tried again, his face pinched and sharp. Idly, Virgil wondered if that was the face Roman pulled whenever he tasted citrus fruit. He had always claimed the taste of lemons or limes were too unpleasant for him, that the sharpness cut through any other flavour, overpowering and ruining it.

That should have been Virgil’s first clue that his daydreams were simply not to be.

He was nothing but sour, nothing but tart.

How could he have ever possibly thought he would fit into the sweet honeyed world that Roman inhabited?

They were two different beings and they might as well have belonged to two different races for all that they had in common. It had been a miracle, a wonder, that they had gotten along for as long as they had, that they had been able to be friends for a little while at least before the shards of what they had dared to try to be rained down on them.

Still, he always just assumed that the crash would be his fault. That Virgil would do or say something unforgivable because he was good at that after all.

He hadn't expected to be abandoned by Roman when he was at his weakest, that the moment he had opened up and risked his heart by telling him how he really felt. It hadn't been the way he had wanted to tell him or any of the various ways he had imagined finally working up the courage to confess but that still didn't explain why Roman had been so cruel about it, why he had turned coward and run when Virgil had admitted his feelings.

Maybe if he had done it in a more romantic way, Roman wouldn't have crushed his heart so casually. Virgil had never thought Roman would be the type to take an offered heart and stab it with a needle. He would have thought Roman would let him down gently if he ever told him. He had pictured Roman being sweet and charmed and flattered before regretfully telling Virgil that it was never going to work between them.

Virgil never entertained any real hope that Roman might have liked him back, he knew life was no fairy tale.

Nobody was going to fall in love with the urchin child in the corner, the scowling, angry boy who was lost. Nobody was going to rescue him from his tower, nobody was going to search a whole kingdom looking for him based on one fragment of himself that he had left behind.

And nobody was going to kiss him awake.

He was already awake, in a world he no longer understood. Awake. He needed to stay awake. Just a little longer. Virgil blinked, the world snapping back into focus. The clock on his wall was ticking.

Tick. Tick.

“-ied. I was looking all over for you.”

Roman looked at him after he finishes speaking as though he expects - as though he expects something. Exactly what, Virgil doesn’t know. An explanation? An apology? His words sounded as though he had said a lot, a whole speech and that was what Roman was good at after all. Saying all the right things to get what he wanted without worrying about the damage he left in his wake. He had smiled and said all the right things to Virgil, he had caught him hook, line and sinker.

Until eventually he was done playing with him and had tossed him back into the sea. Now the siren was back, and had Roman changed his mind? Decided he wanted to keep Virgil dancing to his tune for a little longer? Didn't he know that Virgil no longer knew how to dance?

Virgil was just so tired. Too tired to try and soften the blow for Roman, far too tired to come up with a nicer way to say what he was thinking. The words that he had heard slice into his heart and soul, cut open a wound that has never even started to heal. Virgil can't even start to piece together what Roman might have said before because all he can focus on is the hypocrisy of what little he heard.

Roman hadn't cared to find him when Virgil had been still and silent in his hospital bed. He hadn't cared when Virgil had needed him and more importantly when the others had needed him. It was one thing to abandon Virgil - he had been unconscious, blissfully oblivious to the betrayal. It was quite another to do the same to their friends, to leave Logan, Patton and Remy struggling to hold themselves together. If nothing else, Roman should have been there for them.

He lifted his head, mismatched eyes meeting Roman’s gaze, his own for once focused, sharp and boiling. The rage had to be visible because Virgil no longer cared about hiding it. There was a lot he didn't care about anymore, lost under misery and the rising pain of his injuries. Roman needed to leave, because Virgil really didn't know how much longer he could hold on and he was damned if he would pass out in front of him.

Roman flinched before he actually spoke, almost as though he could peer into all the broken pieces that made up Virgil's psyche and see the storm that was brewing there. He still looked worried, almost concerned for Virgil and that makes him want to laugh until he cried. It was far too late for Roman to be playing that role again. The clock on the wall was ticking, his life draining away in relentless little seconds.

Tick. Tick.

Tick.

“I’ve been sitting still for nearly two months Ro... how hard did you look?”

General Tag List;

Send a message if you would like to be added to my general fic tag list however, please, please be aware that I use my general tag list for snippets, abandoned ideas, deleted scenes etc as well as actual complete chapters so make sure that is what you want to see from me.

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[dcbicki]

Can you make a short story of mileven kissing and hopper sees them!

This is everything but short. It’s over 5k words and, like, I’m not even sorry about it. The ending is pure, unadulterated fluff and I make no apologies for that mess either. To sum up, this thing chronicles a solid decade of their life, with some years left out because I didn’t wanna overdo it. I kind of took the prompt, ran with it, and now it’s probably nothing like that you wanted but there’s another one of those in the works. Enjoy!

When they’re thirteen, Hopper doesn’t worry much when he catches them locked in an embrace by the front door. It lasts a little while longer than it should but it doesn’t trouble him. Things change as they get older, though.

But, when they’re twenty-three, and they build a home, Hopper no longer has anything to worry about.

Observations of a Halfway Happy Hopper

When they’re thirteen, he catches them in an embrace by the front door. It lasts a little longer than it should, but Hopper doesn’t worry too much.

Mike had come over to help her with her reading, and Hopper hadn’t batted an eye when they’d ventured into her bedroom to work. Door pulled ajar, chipper voices carrying out into the living room where he was settled in watching a game, he hadn’t thought twice about leaving them alone.

At thirteen years old, there aren’t many shenanigans they can get into with a parent one room over. It’s not like the door is closed. It’s not like they’re that way inclined anyway.

They’re still kids for the most part - still playing that weird Dungeons and Demons game (or whatever it was called), still using their pocket money down at the arcade.

He likes to think they’ll stay this way for a while, for another year at least, that they’ll keep their youth and keep playing nerdy board games. But he was that age once, too, and he’s not delusional enough to think they aren’t at least curious about certain things.

“Mike kissed me.”

She tells him this one day, when they’re sat at the dinner table in the cabin. He has a mouthful of broccoli and peas when she says it, and he nearly chokes.

“When?”

“Last year.” El ducks her gaze, almost timid, but he can see the clear smile that starts to form on her lips as she pushes at the peas on her plate with her fork, shuffling them around absentmindedly, “Two days ago.”

Two days ago, it’d been the Snowball; that goddamn middle school dance she’d been talking about for well over a year, that goddamn dance the boy had asked her to last year and hadn’t attended without her.

(Hopper remembers the night of the ‘83 Snowball quite clearly because it consisted of, for the most part, Eleven channelling Mike through some miraculous combination of black cloth and television static. Apparently, the boy had opted to stay home instead of going to the dance, and, as Eleven had told him once she’d wiped away her tears and cried into her pillow, it was because of her. Not because he blamed her, but because he refused to go without her. Because he was waiting for her.) (Hopper had felt for the boy that night.)

He’s not sure when or where she learnt what a kiss was, if she even knew what it means (when well-intentioned), but he’s pretty damn certain it has something to do with those soaps she watches all the time. They’re setting her up for disappointment, that much he’s sure of.

“OK.” He can’t really say much more than that. It’s not that he’s surprised, or that he’s unnerved, he’s just… fine with it.

Mike kissed her last year before Hopper became her legal guardian. Mike kissed her last year before Hopper was someone of importance in her life. He has no right to be mad.

He’s her dad now (or at the very least the closest thing she’s ever gonna get to having a normal parental figure in her life). And, while he’s not thrilled, he can’t be mad at them for kissing two days ago either. (He’s well aware he’s to blame for keeping them apart for so long.)

They’re thirteen, and any kisses shared between them are harmless, fleeting, and Hopper doesn’t think much of their closeness.

Only, when they’d finished working and Mike had been on his way out, they’d stopped in the front doorway and spoken in such low voices that Hopper couldn’t help but want to eavesdrop. There was something so strangely charming about the way they interacted.

“I’ll see you next week?”

Eleven nods, and before Hopper can even turn the page of the newspaper he’s pretending to read, she’s pulling the boy in for a hug. She’s just a couple inches shorter than Mike, and it’s noticeable when the boy wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him.

They don’t talk, and Hopper’s curiosity peaks when he hears the smallest of whimpers from the girl. It’s more of a squeak than a sob though and, despite his conscience telling him to let them be, he cranes his neck from his spot on the sofa and glances over at them.

He can’t be sure if they’re kissing, but from the way El is clutching at the boy’s sides, fingers digging in, and the way Mike’s hands are cupping her face, threading through her hair, Hopper thinks it’s safe to say that this is more than just a hug.

They’re thirteen though, and he isn’t mad.

But when Mike leaves a moment later, after offering up a quick goodbye to the man himself, Hopper pulls up the girl when she’s on her way over to the fridge. He stops in front of the stove, one hand on his hip, his face the picture of authority, “No more of that, okay?”

He’s her dad now, so he has to lay down some ground rules. (Well, some more.)

“Ruler number four. No kissing in the house.”

She just stares up at him for a minute (but it feels like an hour), and just when Hopper thinks she’s going to fight him on this, her eyes roll and she shrugs. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.” El nods, and he’s proud of himself for winning this round, “We’ll just kiss at Mike’s house.”

She ventures off then, after stealing an apple from out of the fridge, and Hopper is left with a headache.

Damn kids.

When they’re fourteen, he realises he has to crank things up a notch. They’re outside the high school, where he’s parked waiting to drive El home before he returns to work, and Mike’s hands are caging his daughter in against the front of the old building.

There’s nothing really alarming about it, and, from the way El is giggling and looking up at the growing boy as though he’s the best hing since sliced bread, Hopper doesn’t think he needs to be loading up his shotgun anytime soon.

He tries not to watch them, tries to pretend he isn’t sat just twenty feet away from where his teenage daughter’s quite clearly flirting with her boyfriend.

He’s not fuming as a father should probably be, but he’s still relieved when Mike lifts one hand from off of the wall. Only that hand finds the side of El’s face within seconds, and suddenly they’re kissing. And Hopper has to look away, avoid the temptation to honk the horn and tear them apart.

They deserve to spend some time together, right? After all they’ve been through, they deserve a little freedom, right? Wrong. He’s pretty sure El’s gonna end up spending most of the weekend at the Wheeler kid’s house anyway, with their band of misfits dorks, so he’s not even a little bit sorry when he slams his fist down on the horn and watches as their jump apart.

Their foreheads are still touching though (he’s pretty sure), and El’s hands hold onto the collars of Mike’s windbreaker as though she’s clinging on for dear life. She says something to him, but Hopper can’t lipread, and soon enough she’s bounding over to the Police truck with a smile on her face, leaving an awestruck Wheeler in her wake.

He doesn’t even dare to ask.

“Can’t you two do that when you’re inside the school?” He grumbles, watching as she straps herself in, pulling the seatbelt tight, “Or does it annoy your friends as much as it annoys me?”

El grins, leaning over to toss her bag onto the back seat, “Mike says we can’t do it in school.”

“Well, when Mike is Chief of Police, or when he has a daughter then he can have a say.” Hopper snorts, “Just get it outta your system before you come home, okay?”

“He says we can’t because teachers don’t allow it and otherwise we’d get detention.” She informs him, “And he doesn’t think you want me to get detention.”

“He’s not wrong.” Hopper admits with a slight tilt of his head, “How about you just don’t do it at all then?”

“Ever?”

“At school, no.”

“But on the weekends?” El asks, and he nods in confirmation with a sigh and ‘sure, kid’, and she leans back in the passenger seat, content, “Halfway happy.”

Good.

“Mike asked me to be his girlfriend.”

She tells him this later, when she’s mid-homework and her hands are toying with a wooden ruler, and Hopper’s just a little bit confused. He’d assumed they were already official, or going steady, or whatever the hell it was the kids called it these days.

“And what did you say?”

She shrugs, nonchalant but he can tell she’s bursting with glee on the inside. She’s never been very good at hiding her emotions, “I said yes,” she starts, “and then I asked him to be my boyfriend because you say everything is a two-way street.”

(He won’t lie and say he isn’t proud of her for that.)

“Good.” Hoppers licks his forefinger and his thumb, turns the page often case-file he’s working on. “As long as you’re happy.”

“I am.” El’s voice is soft, sweet, and he can’t help but smile, even while staring down at the mugshot of a local store thief, “Full happy.”

Goddamn kids.

When they’re seventeen, he’s become accustomed to always seeing them in such close proximity to each other. They’re never far, rarely apart, and he’s fine with it. But he’s thrown when, one night, Flo gets a call from someone down at the quarry who says they saw the Chief’s adopted daughter getting into the back of a brown station wagon by the creek.

Instead of loading his shotgun with enough bullets to riddle the Wheeler kid with holes, Hopper just heads down to that place they oh-so-appropriately nicknamed Lover’s Lake without a second thought, and he’s fuming by the time he spots the car.

At that age, teenagers are crafty, ballsy, and they’ll come up with ingenious ways to outsmart their parents and sneak out of the house. At that age, they’re knowledgeable and impressionable but all the while aware of the consequences. At that age, they’re curious and horny, and Hopper is just about ready to punch someone in the goddamn face.

His clenched fist thumps against the side of the vehicle (about five times), and it takes a few moments and few little high-pitched shrieks from the backseat before someone tosses the door open, making Hopper take a couple steps back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He sounds angrier than he feels, but his face is anything but apologetic, “It’s eleven o’clock at goddamn night on a Monday. What the hell are you doing, kid?”

El is pulling up her socks, right up to her knees, and she settles her gaze on Hopper’s boots.

“Talking.”

“Talking?” He wants to shout, wants to shake some sense into her, but- “Wheeler.”

“Chief.” The damn kid’s head of messy hair is in view now, and Hopper narrows his eyes in on the boy. “We were just- I was-“

“Goddamnit, don’t say another word.” Jim sighs, breathing heavily through his nostrils, and his eyes close for just a second or two, “I don’t wanna hear it. El, grab your crap. I’m taking you home.”

With a small huff, she reaches over to pick up her muddy sneakers, laying a hand on Mike’s wrist. He looks upset and Hopper thinks that he maybe he overestimated the gravity of their little nighttime hangout. (Either that, or Mike’s just being dramatic.)

He gets his answer after a silent car ride home, when El slams the front door shut and stares up at him, clearly irritated.

“What now?” Hopper grimaces, almost mocking, “You mad because I dragged you away from boyfriend before you could do something stupid?”

“His parents are getting a divorce.”

Oh.

“That’s what we were talking about.” She tells him, and her shoulders drop, “His dad is gonna move out, and his mom is gonna sell the house, and he was crying when he called me earlier.”

“His parents are getting a divorce?”

Shit.

“His parents are getting a divorce.” She repeats, again, confirming.

Double shit. “And you were, what, comforting him?”

“Yes.” El swallows, and she plops herself down on the sofa, trying to avoid making a noise as to not wake anyone in the house. Joyce and Will were probably already asleep.

(The four of them had only been living together for a few months, after Hopper had finally popped the question and Joyce had finally agreed and they’d finally sorted their shit out.)

“Mike said he loves me.”

He’d expected this years ago, and, truthfully, he’s surprised it’d taken the Wheeler kid this long to admit it when it’d been clear on his face for five long years. But obviously he’s going through some stuff and-

“He said he loves me, and he said he doesn’t want to end up like his parents.” Her feet kick up on the coffee table and Hopper stands by the sofa, keeping his distance to avoid aggravating her, “He was crying.” She closes her eyes, tosses her head back against the cushions, and presses the balls of her hands against her eyes.

“You love him.”

She moves her hands from her face an inch, peering up at him through glazed eyes, “Fully.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For thinking you were being normal teenagers when I should know better. Neither one of you is normal. None of you. You know you’re special, El, but Mike… Mike isn’t just some kid and I think I forget that sometimes. He’s good.”

“I know.” El takes a deep breath, and he’s never been more regretful, “That’s why I love him. That’s why you should, too.”

He appreciates the Wheeler kid, he does. He’s honestly not sure there could ever be anyone better suited for his daughter than that nerdy, mop-haired little shit, “I’m sure I will. One day.”

(He won’t admit it until some years later, but Mike Wheeler is the son he never asked for got nonetheless, the other half of the package deal that Hopper signed for when he adopted Eleven.)

“I’m gonna go find him.”

“What?”

“You said he was upset, right?” She nods, and Hopper messes with the hat in his hands, “Then wake Will up, and help him set up a sleeping bag or whatever in his room, and I’m gonna go find find Mike.”

“Thank you.”

Hopper doesn’t reply, but he ruffles her hair, kisses the top of her head, and he’s back out the door before she can stop him.

Fucking kids.

When they’re eighteen, he starts to worry.

“Mike asked me to prom.” She’d told him one time, a couple weeks before the homecoming, back when she was still trying to settle on a dress.

“Are you going?” He’d asked, already knowing the answer. He’d slid an plated Eggo across the table, watching as she laid out a napkin.

With a nod, El stabbed the waffle with her fork, “Duh.” She’d bitten at the waffle then, mouth full as she spoke, “Max says that’s when people have sex.”

“Max said what?” He had to stop forgetting to load that freakin’ shotgun.

“That people have sex at homecoming. For the first time.” She’d taken another bite, bigger this time, and stood up to discard the rest.

“But you’re-“ He didn’t want to know, he just wanted her to be safe. “Right?”

The girl raised a brow, almost amused at his line of questioning, “I’m fine.”

“OK.”

Weeks later, he finds her sat alone in the back of the diner. Once Benny’s Burgers, the place had been taken over by new management. It was fresher now, much more like a 60s diner.

Or, at least he thinks she’s alone. Mike comes out of the bathroom, hands rubbing down his jeans, before Hopper can approach his daughter, and he instead chooses to watch the scene before him.

It’s only lately that he’s taken in the boy’s growth spurt, Mike now standing almost as tall as the man himself. His hair’s still a mess though, and Hopper isn’t sure how El can see his face half the time.

(He’s gonna get him a freakin’ hairbrush for Christmas, he’s decided.)

He watches as Mike leans over the table, kissing the top of El’s head before saying something quiet, just soft enough to make his daughter’s face light up, and Hopper has seen enough.

He orders his coffee and pancakes, pretends he doesn’t notice when the growing man pulls up beside him.

“Chief.”

Mike greets him, and his fingers are tapping some sort of rhythm along the greasy countertop, his wallet on the side.

“Wheeler.” Hopper acknowledges him with a nod of the head, “You ready for college?”

He’s heading out next week, all set for the University of Indiana. It’s not far, and it’s not a huge change of scenery. But Mike will be living in a dorm, and he won’t have his friends around, and he won’t have El there. (She hasn’t decided what she wants for her future yet. And that’s fine.)

“Pretty much.” His eyebrows are drawn, and he’s quite clearly lost in thought. Hopper knows that look.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna be okay.” He reassures the young man, patting him on the shoulder. He’s all lanky arms and awkward posture and freckle-faced and Hopper’s still sometimes in disbelief that this is the boy his daughter has chosen to love.

“Thanks.” It’s sincere, and Hopper’s proud to admit he actually kind of loves this kid. He’s good.

The waitress reemerges then, and Mike orders a strawberry sundae (and it’s obviously for El because it’s her favourite), and Hopper isn’t ignorant to those little square foil packets in the boy’s wallet.

Shit.

“Kid?”

His eyes are still on the condoms, and Mike quite literally freezes up when he catches on to what Hopper is staring at, “Oh.”

“We’re not gonna have anything to worry about, are we?”

“Well, no.” Mike’s eyebrows dance, and his face flushes some kind of crimson colour, and Hopper can only chuckle. “I mean- We used-“

“OK.”

“OK?”

“Yeah.” The chief of police waves a hand, “You’re a good kid, I trust you. And I trust her. And I trust you’re both smart enough to be smart about these things.”

“We are.”

“Good.”

Fucking teenagers.

When they’re twenty, they’ve been living in different cities for roughly two years. Hopper isn’t surprised they’ve made it this far, isn’t surprised they’ve handled the long distance thing impeccably well for two youngsters on the brink of adulthood.

When Mike comes home for Christmas break that second year, he shacks up with Lucas (who’s also in town for the holidays) in a nearby hotel. His mom and Holly are in an apartment these days, and Nancy’s already called the guest room and, short of staying with his dad and his new girlfriend, renting a hotel room is the best option.

(Lucas says it works out better for him, too. And when they check into their room, he lets slip that he’s transferring to U of I next semester and the boys are ecstatic at the prospect o spending more time together.)

Max visits from California, and Dustin comes home from Michigan, and Will pops in from New Jersey, and the whole little nerd squad is back together again.

They’re together on Christmas Eve, and a little bit on Christmas, but New Year’s eve is the day he can’t get the group out of his house. Until Joyce tells everyone to go home and get dressed up for the party.

“Mike asked me to move in with him.” She tells him that afternoon. The boys went back to the hotel to change a couple hours ago, and El has been messing with her hair for a good twenty minutes.

She’s been working in the library for well over a year now, and Hopper doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone so happy to be surrounded by books all day long. But she still lives with him and Joyce, and Mike has moved into a one-bedroom studio, and he understands her plight.

The boy’s been working in some tech job for a while, and he’s making money between classes and Hopper isn’t as opposed to the idea of her moving out there to live with him as he thinks he should be.

It’s risky, letting her go across the state to live with her boyfriend when the government could start hunting her down any day, any minute now. But, while it’s foolish to even be considering it, he’s actually considering letting her go.

She’s old enough now, surely.

“Do you want to?”

It’ll be cramped, and they’ll be in each other’s space twenty-four-seven, but Hopper thinks they can handle it.

“I think so.”

“Then I think you should do it.”

“You don’t want me to stay?”

“I want you to stay if you want to stay. If you want to go off and live with Mike, then you should do that. You’re not a prisoner, El. I’m not going to force you to stay if you want something else.”

“Then I want to go.”

“Then I guess you need to tell Mike.” He smiles, and he pulls her face into his chest for a hug, chuckling when she protests (with a giggle), says he’s smudging her makeup.

When the boy comes back later that evening, all fresh and spruced up for the New Year’s countdown, Hopper can’t help but notice the way his face lights up much like El’s does when the roles are reversed, when Mike tells her something good.

He picks her up, and kisses her, and she giggles, and Hopper is proud of them.

Goddamn youngsters.

When they’re twenty-three, there’s nothing he can do about it anymore (not that he would want to even if he could.) They’re inevitable, and he has no complaints when they’re locked in an embrace on the front step of their new house.

“Mike asked me to marry him.”

She says this, twisting her hands in her lap, and he can tell by the way she’s looking up at him that she’s waiting for his reaction with held breath.

(He doesn’t mention the fact that Mike came to see him months ago, came to ask for his approval and El’s hand in marriage. He doesn’t mention that the boy (no, the man), had invited him to lunch, stammered his way through a whole speech only to end up sliding an heirloom ring across the table and waiting for Hopper to just get the gist.)

(He doesn’t mention the way he’d held back a belly laugh, inspecting the shiny little ring in the little velvet box as though he’d been the recipient. He doesn’t mention the way he’d shaken Mike’s hand in approval, giving him his permission, and told him, “It’s not me you should be asking”.)

“You say yes?” Hopper eyes her, and he has half a mind to just pull her into a congratulatory hug before she even announces the news.

“What do you think?” El smiles, and there’s a hint of a blush rising to her cheeks, and he’s so fucking proud of her.

He nods, twice, and then his arms are open and he’s hugging his daughter for the millionth time.

But she’s older now, and she’s not a little girl anymore, and she’s not frightened by anything the world could throw at her.

She has her family, and she has her friends, and she has Mike. She has Mike, who embodies both; the friends she’s made over the years, the family she’s built over time.

She’s come so far, and she’s overcome so much, and she’s grown up so much that Hopper can hardly believe it sometimes.

“I’m gonna marry him.”

“I know.” Her dad tells her, and he places both hands on her shoulders, leaning down to her level, “I’ve known since you were both thirteen years old.”

They get married a few months later, down by the lake.

Nobody questions the decision, not after Dustin informs them all that the drop at the quarry is where El became an official member of the Party, saved Mike’s actual life and cemented the strange bond they all seem to share. Nobody questions the decision, because El plans her wedding with Nancy and Max and Joyce, and they all understand just how much every little thing means to her.

When the cake’s been cut, and everyone’s danced, and the married couple have officially made their getaway, Nancy pulls Hopper aside.

She’s holding a glass of champagne in one hand, and a pair of strappy black heels in the other. There’s a small smile on her lips, and she’s kind of swaying side to side, and Hopper is positive she’s trashed.

“Meet me tomorrow.” She hands him her glass then, and he takes it, just long enough for her to pull a folded piece of paper from her cleavage. Nancy snatches her champagne back, swapping the note over for the glass, “I need your help.”

He eyes the paper, unfolding it and staring down in bewilderment at the neatly written address in fading blue ink.

Joyce is back at his side before Nancy can say anything else, and two flutes are passed back to him as the younger woman whisks his wife off for a quick dance.

When morning comes, and he’s halfway recovered, sobered up, he heads on down to the address Nancy provided him. She’s stood out front when he gets there, hands on her hips, impatient and imposing.

“You’re late.”

“You didn’t give me a time, Wheeler.” He reasons, and only then spots the moving van in the driveway of a small suburban house. “What is this? You asking me to moving you with you? I’m flattered.”

It’s a small, white, picket-fenced house in a quaint neighbourhood. The neighbours houses are similar, but they don’t quite match. This one though, this one has something charming about it. There’s something awfully precious about the lace curtains hanging in the windows, and the pale green fence that leads to what he can only assume is a garden.

“It’s your daughter’s home.” Nancy tells him, and her eyes glimmer with something close to tears, her smile broad.

“No.” Hopper frowns, and suddenly the house is blurry, “No, see, there’s a ‘Sold’ sign,” he takes a couple steps over onto the patch of grass, knocks at the sign with his knuckles, “right here.”

“Who do you think bought it?” She blinks, challenging. Her arms cross over her chest, and she crinkles her nose with an amused grin, “Mike made her a home once before. You didn’t think he’d do it again?”

That nerdy, mop-haired little shit.

“He bought a house?”

“I mean the mortgage is pretty hefty, but- Yeah.” She shrugs, comes to stand beside him as he admires the front of the building. “My nerdy little brother bought your magic daughter a house.”

“Does that meant the next step is what I think it is?”

Nancy laughs, offers a simple, “maybe,” and he can’t help but join her. He’s getting older now, and his hair is greying, and he won’t lie he isn’t looking forward to becoming a grandpa someday. He’d make for a pretty cool one, he thinks. He can tell the kid war stories from ‘Nam, and all about being stuck in another dimension and the kid can just laugh him off.

It’s their choice, though. It’s El choice. He’s just glad he’s been fortunate enough to be her guardian through everything. He’s just proud of her, of who she’s become.

“Okay, big guy.” She taps him on the shoulder, far from the teenager who once got caught by the cops hoarding bear traps and gasoline cans in the trunk of a car, “You need to help me unpack.”

Mike had told her all about the house, and it’d been Nancy’s suggestion she hire a van and unload their stuff while they were on their makeshift honeymoon down in California, spending time with Max and Lucas. She’d enlisted Hopper and Steve (deputy sheriff, these days) to carry some of the heavier stuff, and Steve and Joyce were on their down with reinforcements.

Just as Steve’s car pulls up in the driveway, leaving a fair amount of space between the truck and the curb, Hopper takes in a deep breath. He rubs his hands together, rolls up the sleeves of his plaid shirt, “Okay.”

It’s a couple days later when Mike finally pulls up to the new house and, as warned, Nancy and Hopper are waiting by the front doorstep.

The look of absolute shock, awe, that crosses El’s face when realisation hits is something that’ll probably stick with Hopper until the day he dies. Her eyes widen, and she cries, and she hugs Mike so tightly that nobody thinks she’ll ever let go.

Nancy welcomes her new sister into the Wheeler family with a gift she’d been making in secret for years. She’d enlisted Jonathan’s help back in New York, scrapbooking together a picture album filled with memories of the whole party, the kids and the teens and the adults. It’s simple, but perfectly put together. She adds pictures from the wedding, writes in swirly, fancy penmanship over the album’s white cover, ‘Part One’, and she ties ribbon around the book to as though to wrap it up as a present.

When El takes it with a smile and a hug, eliciting a laugh from her sister-in-law, Hopper doesn’t think it could ever belong in anybody else’s hands.

If Mike is the glue that holds the party together, then she is the film coating that keeps them safe, from harm and from pain.

So, when Nancy is keeping herself busy in the new living room, placing the photo album on the middle shelf of the coffee table, and Hopper is left on his lonesome in the hallway, he can’t help but look over at the couple in the doorway.

They’re barely through the threshold, still just on the doorstep, but El’s face has never made Hopper feel so whole, complete.

“Halfway happy?” He asks, breaking the connection between the two. (They have the rest of their lives). It’s worth it just to see her smile.

“Full happy.” El nods once, twice, and her hands slide from Mike’s chest to his neck, pulling him closer now. “Mike?”

The young man hums, brows crinkling as he admires her face, watching as she chews at her bottom lip and sighs.

“I’m happy I’m home.”

“Me, too.” He tells her, and it’s the quietest Hopper has ever heard him. He’s good, Mike Wheeler.

When El pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss her husband, Hopper takes that as his queue to leave. She’s happy, and he can’t ask for anything more than that.

He grins, turning back around and venturing into the living room to lend Nancy a hand.

Goddamn kids.

[thatfilmgirlbritt]

To Infinity, And Beyond...Or At Least, Disneyland.

I'll always be a Walt Disney World girl at heart but during my past break from Western, I was blessed with the chance to go to Disneyland with my mom for the first time since I was ten years old! It's a bit of a surreal experience to visit a Disney Park that is not in Florida because of how exposed I have been to Walt Disney World, but it was such a fun, little jaunt to witness how different Disneyland is compared. The one thing that struck me immediately upon entering Disneyland is how much smaller Main Street USA is compared to Magic Kingdom's, you're never prepared for how different it is until you experience it for yourself. The first time I visited Disneyland over a decade ago, I honestly couldn't remember much and when you're young, everything seems so much bigger than it actually is. This park acts almost as if it is a relic of a time that has long past, it's as if you're stepping back into 1955 while walking down the same street that Walt Disney did all those years ago. Disneyland is a piece of history that has been preserved for over 60 years and what is left is a sense of cozy, nostalgia that envelopes you as you experience what is left of a different era. Vintage popcorn machines, the way the light shines off of the signs reminiscent of the Golden Age of Hollywood on Main Street and Sleeping Beauty's (1959) Castle standing proudly in all of it's 1950's glory at the end of the street all add to this feeling that you've been transported to a time that no longer exists. 

The man, the myth, the legend himself, Walt Disney, stood in this very park not so long ago when Disneyland first opened in 1955 and when what I consider to be my home away from home, Walt Disney World, was merely a dream too good to be true. In the pursuit of his dreams, Walt Disney left a lasting presence on a world he was never able to see and I find that to be the most magical thing about visiting Disneyland. This man had such big dreams that he worked incredibly hard to accomplish and he's still accomplishing those dreams long after he's left this world. He gave the children of the world characters that have followed them throughout their lives and adults the ability to realize that it's never too late to make your dreams a reality. No matter who you are or where you come from, we all have had the legacy that Walt Disney left behind affect us in some way and if that isn't magic, I don't know what is. 

Despite the fact that I am constantly surrounded by Star Wars on the daily, I can't help how giddy I feel when I visit a Disney Park because I get to experience two of the things that fill my film-loving heart with so much joy in the same place! It does not matter where I am, I will always make time to visit Chewbacca because this handsome fella has the ability to make the darkest day brighter with the greatest hugs you'll ever experience. It was interesting to see the differences between Disneyland's Star Wars Launch Bay compared to Hollywood Studios' and once again I prefer the latter, but I'm thankful I've been lucky enough to experience both. Side Note: This trip also made me more appreciative of the effort Walt Disney World has put into including Anakin and Padme, and the prequels into their content because there was so little I saw in Disneyland which was a bit disappointing. That being said, I saw a beautiful model of Anakin's Interceptor from the beginning of Revenge of the Sith (2005) featuring a pretty accurate figure of Hayden Christensen's Anakin and my favorite little droid, R2-D2! I desperately wanted to take it home with me. 

"This is where the fun begins."  -- Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith).

In a rare moment of #DisneyStyle, I was able to experience a whole new world in Disney's California Adventure Park with my favorite princess (besides Leia), Jasmine! Paradise Pier gave me a most opportune moment to showcase one of the few pairs of Vans I own featuring this fierce desert flower in all of her glory. Jasmine wasn't the only Disney princess on my mind while in California Adventure however, I was also thinking of a certain iconic bookworm who wants so much more than a provincial life! This was especially true after my mom and I watched the 9-minute preview of Walt Disney Studios' live-action adaption of Beauty and the Beast (2017), which I would consider to be a highlight of our trip because we were both completely blown away by those few minutes of the film alone. The preview included what I believe to be the entire Belle and Belle (Reprise) number, and it only made me more excited to see the film on my birthday, March 28th, later on this month. The cinematography is beyond-belief gorgeous and I was so impressed with how beautifully Emma Watson has cultivated Belle into her own. I am impatiently waiting to see this beautiful film come to life in an enchanting way in only a few short weeks! 

Paradise Pier is honestly one of the most beautiful aspects of the Disneyland Resort! The detail put into not only the pier, but the surrounding areas in California Adventure are quite awe-inspiring and I was extremely excited to be back because they have added so much more to entirety of the park since I last visited. Another highlight of my trip was being able to ride California Screamin', something I was unable to do the last time I was there because I was absolutely terrified of roller coasters at the time. I've since conquered that fear and the fact that I rode it at night when the entire pier was lit up only made the experience that much more memorable.  

"It All Started With A Mouse."  -- Walt Disney

Confession: I've never actually sat down and watched Cars (2006)! I know, I know...blasphemous, but it's one of the few Disney/Pixar films I've never had much interest in. That being said, I was completely blown away by the detail of Cars Land and how magical this part of the park looked, especially at night. The amount of photos I took of Flo's \8/ Cafe alone was borderline ridiculous, but there was something about those neon lights that I was completely mesmerized by. I felt like a little girl again, spending my summers taking trips to the Mustang Drive-In to watch the latest movies being released. Similar to Disneyland, it was as if I was stepping back to a time when things were much simpler and I half-expected a '32 DEUCE COUPE (think American Graffiti (1973)) to whiz past me while strolling down Route 66. 

On the third and final day of our trip, my mom and I ventured back into Disneyland where we rode the Indiana Jones Adventure ride (one of our all-time favorites), Star Tours, Haunted Mansion and Hyperspace Mountain for the second time! I can not sing enough praise about Hyperspace Mountain and how creative it was for the Disney Parks to incorporate Star Wars into one of their most iconic rides.  Space Mountain has always held a special place in my heart, but HYPERspace Mountain took that love to whole other galaxy. Unfortunately we had completely forgotten that it was President's Day weekend and as a result, it was quite busy throughout the duration of our trip and we were unable to explore as much as we would have liked to. Still I think we were able to make the most of our little trip to Cali and I'm SO grateful we were able to go! Counting down the days until our next adventure. 

See you REAL soon!  - Britt. 

[mikeyd1986]

MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 108, June 2018

On Queen’s Birthday public holiday, I decided to go down to YMCA Casey RACE for a Body Pump class with Natalie Blanch. As it was a “typical” Monday, I was struggling with both time and motivation but was still determined to get down to the gym regardless. Surprisingly, for a public holiday, there was a decent amount of members in the class today. I spent some time reflecting on how far I’ve come from my very first Pump class until now. I’ve certainly grown in confidence, able to follow Nat’s directions easier, can usually keep up and I feel fitter as well. https://www.lesmills.com.au/bodypump

Today we did tracks from Release 96 including Tiesto - Blow Your Mind, Panic! At The Disco - Hallelujah, Flo Rida - Wobble, Galantis - Peanut Butter Jelly and Zedd featuring Bahari - Addicted to a Memory. It was a pretty tough release especially the dreaded lunge track which Nat claimed was “fun” (My thighs were burning a lot). Some of the exercises we did included overhead presses, power cleans, deadlifts and rows (Warm-up, Back), push-ups, dips and bicep curls with the bar (Biceps, Triceps), flying raises, side raises and revolved raises (Shoulders) plus crunches, crunch pulses and Hurdler’s stretch (Core, Cooldown). https://www.siphilp.com/les-mills-bodypump-96-music-track-listing.aspx

On Tuesday morning, I had my final Employ Your Mind session for Phase 2 at WISE Employment in Cranbourne. It was a little disappointing and anti-climatic that I was the only participant leave at the end of this phase. Whilst it’s obviously nobody’s fault that clients can’t always attend due to having other commitments, it did make me feel awkward seeing as this was meant to be a “group” session.

However, support workers Karen and Vadim did the best that they could given the circumstances. Today I did a review of my Goal Setting Plan from Phase 1, going through the list and seeing if I needed to add or modify any of the goals that I set for myself. These included: Improving conversational skills and self-confidence. Being able to cope better with my mental health issues. Improving my memory, focus and concentration at work and in social situations. https://www.themhs.org/resources/1605/s58-employ-your-mind-improving-thinking-skills-for-work-and-community-engagement.

I decided to add two goals to my list: Making more friends and improving my social life. Losing weight and maintaining a healthy body weight. These two goals in particular have been things I’ve been continuing to work on over the past couple of years and have both had their share of challenges. But these goals are extremely important to me so I’ll continue to do what it takes to achieve them. https://www.healthdirect.gov.au/goal-setting

The next part involved having a brainstorm about reaching my goals. The things that help me to reach my goals include breaking them down and setting myself a plan, getting support from family, friends, support workers and counsellors as well as trying to eat healthy foods and exercising regularly. The things that get in the way of reaching my goals includes lack of motivation and struggling with my mental barriers (self doubt, worries, anxieties). Things that I’ve used to overcome these are positive affirmations, reminders of my strengths and personal qualities, meditation, deep breathing and asking people for help when needed. https://www.naturalhealthmag.com.au/content/6-ways-achieve-your-goals

On Tuesday night, I attended my Body Combat class at YMCA Casey ARC in Narre Warren. Tonight’s class was a bit different in that Cinamon Guerin invited Caitlin up onto the stage to demonstrate half of the tracks. She is essentially an instructor-in-training and I have to say that she did a great job. She had a really good rapore with Cinamon and was able to confidently instruct by herself as well.

As usual tonight’s Combat class was a tough one with plenty of high knees, lunges, esteevas, jab boxes, uppercuts, front kicks, back kicks, side kicks and tricky combos. I was dripping in sweat halfway through the class and had to pull back a bit due to fatigue and soreness. I’m still proud that I’m able to come to Combat classes and smash it, no matter how I’m feeling inside. I’m determined to drop those kilos again. https://www.lesmills.com.au/archive-bodycombat

On Thursday morning, Mum and I dropped into Insight Accounting on the rooftop of Cranbourne Park Shopping Centre. Ever since the bad experience I had with my tax return last year, I’ve been trying to shop around to find another accountant who I might be more suited to. A quick Google search pointed me towards Insight Accounting and today I thought I’d drop in to make an inquiry about getting an individual tax return claim done.

The Cranbourne office located next door to Anytime Fitness (Cranbourne) seemed a little daunting at first with a long white hallway leading to the reception desk. The receptionist named Emma ended up asking one of the accountants, Stacey, to have a chat with us in her office. The space was very inviting and comfortable. Whilst Stacey was a lot younger than my last accountant, I could tell that she was switched on and had the right know-how about the preparation involved with tax returns. I feel pretty confident that I’ll end up doing my tax return through them this year. http://www.insightaccounting.com.au/individuals/

I personally don’t think there’s any harm in changing companies if you don’t feel satisfied or happy with their services. That is the prerogative of a client and you should make zero apologies about it. I used to be much more passive about it in the past but now I apply this to everything in my life...psychologists, counsellors, personal trainers, teachers, doctors and now accountants. If you don’t do this, you end up getting stuck in a rut and feeling depressed, frustrated, annoyed and/or upset. Don’t settle for second best.

On Friday morning, I dropped into my local Centrelink customer service office in Cranbourne to (hopefully) sort out the birth certificate issue from last week. Thankfully the lady who was serving me was much more helpful and less vague than Ms. Sue from last week. I could feel my anxiety levels spiking up as she was busily typing away behind the counter. I was praying that this time the system would actually accept my birth certificate now that I had my Change of Name Registration certificate with me.

Unfortunately, we had the same issue again and not even the expertise of the male staff member next door could resolve it. However, she did make copies and scans of both documents to send away to Births, Deaths and Marriages to get them verified and matched up. Whilst it was another frustrating result for me, at least this time some progress was getting made and it didn’t feel like a waste of time. https://www.humanservices.gov.au/individuals/enablers/confirm-your-identity

On Friday night, I attended the re-opening night of Aaron Petty’s yoga studio, Level Up Yoga in Berwick. It’s really no secret that I find social situations to be tremendously difficult particularly when it comes to making conversation. How do I break the ice? What do I say? I don’t know 80% of the people in the room. And of course the wet weather had continued into the night. But I wasn’t going to let any of these barriers stop me from coming tonight.

Aaron has spent the last two weeks renovating and transforming the existing space located upstairs inside Personal Performance Training Centre into a proper yoga studio. It now features: a peach coloured feature wall, ceiling fan, air conditioner/heater, flooring vents, polished cork flooring, a storage cupboard and benches for the yoga equipment, mirrors, a new door and added wall. Honestly, Aaron and his team have done a magnificent job and all the hard work has paid off.

Tonight the space was beautifully lit up with lamps and fairy lights. The bench was decorated with little chocolates, love hearts, strawberries, tealight candle holders, a diffuser, native twigs and gum leaves. They also had some canopes and a glass teapot set up. I decided to start by having a chat with my good friend Daniel Cooper, whom I know from his band Spectral Fires. I actually did surprisingly well despite the obvious stumbles and mental blanks, grasping for the right words to say.

Then my anxiety was starting to kick in. I checked my phone and discovered that I’d only been there for 20 minutes. I was determined to push myself and not simply bolt out the door. It didn’t take long for the yoga space to start filling up with people. The volume level was also increasing pretty rapidly. I thought I’d sit down, grab some tea and read one of the orange timetables that Aaron had made up.

I was sitting next door to a tray full of peanut butter and coconut protein balls. In that moment, I could have honestly eaten the whole tray but that was the comfort eater inside of me talking. I was trying hard to be disciplined as weight loss is still an uphill battle for me. And here come the anxious thoughts (God this is so difficult. I hardly know anybody here. So many people know each other. Why do I find talking to people so hard? Maybe I should leave).

Thankfully this stream of thought was interrupted by Aaron Petty making an announcement. There was probably around 30-40 people in the room now which is a very impressive turnout. After delivering his thank yous and having one-too-many applauds, he started talking about his new concept for Level Up Yoga, Freedom and Stillness and what these words meant to him. Then he gently lead us all into a short guided meditation with Daniel Cooper playing some beautiful music in the background.

Finally he got us to introduce ourselves to a person we didn’t know and ask them “What does freedom mean to you?” Cue to typical thought of “OH SHIT!” But honestly this was exactly what I needed. To get out of my comfort zone and meet people. A couple of people actually approached me and it felt good despite how flustered my face was getting. But at the same time, my anxiety was easing a little and I didn’t feel quite as social isolated or withdrawn.

I aimed to stay for over an hour and I smashed that goal. I tried to do my usual sneaky ninja exit but was easily detected. To be honest, I didn’t mind because it showed that quite a few people in that room care enough about me to acknowledge my existence. Whilst it was hard for me sitting through the anxiety and the uncomfortable feelings I had inside, I’m really proud that I did it because that shows true strength. I deserve to be a part of the Level Up Yoga community. https://www.aaronpetty.com/teaching-schedule/

On Saturday morning, I did a Vinyasa yoga class with Aaron Petty at Level Up Yoga in Berwick. As I had the day off work, I figured I’d come along to one of the free yoga classes Aaron was offering this weekend. I was still feeling a bit restless from last night as I didn’t sleep very well but I somehow managed to motivate myself to go this morning. It was a small class with only two other girls joining me but I was very content with that considering how packed the studio was last night.

Being a Vinyasa class, I knew that this would be challenging but I just did the best I could. We did several different sequences of poses including:                      Vinyasa Flow: Downward Facing Dog, Plank, Chaturanga, Baby Cobra/Cobra/Updog.                                                                                    Warrior Sequence: Three Legged Dog, Crescent Lunge, Warrior 2, Reverse Warrior.                                                                                                      Strength: Half-Pigeon, Mermaid, King Pigeon, Side Plank, Elbow Plank.              Inversions: Legs in the air, Shoulder Stand, Handstand.

This morning I tried to use laughter as a coping mechanism to deal with my struggles particularly with the strength and balancing poses. Holding my own body weight is something I’m still continuing to work on. I also knew what my limits were and there were a few times where I had to pull back due to fatigue, especially towards the end of the class. This is not a sign of weakness. It’s actually a good thing to have enough self-awareness to figure out when I should be resting or pulling back. The last thing I want to do is injure myself. https://www.popsugar.com.au/fitness/Benefits-Normal-Plank-vs-Elbow-Plank-28902118

“It takes a voice to make a change. It takes courage to not be the same. If the world is silenced today. I make sure to scream my name. Don't lose your heart. If you're willing to change, willing to fight. Promise me. Remind yourself. You're breathing. Remind yourself. That you are bleeding.” Dream on Dreamer - Don’t Lose Your Heart (2015)

[orleans-jester]

cryptid-killjoy​:

The simplicity of it.” Flo repeated and smiled. “Sounds like you.”

They’d just come all this way. He wanted something to look at. He supposed it was the concept of castle in him. He already had mediaeval luxury (if one could call anything from the ancient past luxury at all) in his head, that royal feeling. All this brought to mind was war. Fortress was the clear message when they approached, not a home of any kind. It felt like a place of war directly upon approach. As much of a hermit as Flotsam could be that was the difference in the feeling that he wanted when nearing castle.

He wanted to feel life not death despite being excited about murder holes. He had a fantasy the murder holes were for the special few that dared cross some sort of line in some gallant special place tucked away all secret, but the feeling upon approach of a fortress like this was, hey maybe this place has a murder hole since the whole thing looks like war and death anyway. It wasn’t really what he hoped when coming to tour. It was why he was strangely disappointed upon sight at the plainness of it was simple. It was that the plainness of it was unwelcoming and unfun. He was still hoping there was a home inside and not just a fortress. He actually had not researched this one well enough to know. He was far more a tourist here than any.  

He really wished Thomas was a chatty tour guide right now considering it was his idea to come to Ireland. Flotsam had always heard Ireland was a boring place to visit, all pubs and landscape, farms for miles and nothing to actually do. People go to Ireland to relax and do nothing is what he heard, maybe hike or ride a bike which in Flo’s opinion is something that can be done anywhere. They brought three kids. They weren’t going on a pub tour as much as Flo was the sort to take his kids anywhere. He wasn’t even the sort to just sit around in pubs all the time anyway. He hated people. Pubs were about people. He wasn’t about people. He was about activities. So he was very much waiting for Thomas to take over on this vacation of Thomas’s choosing and lead. Flo can Google as much as anyone just because he happens to be here, but usually he picks a place to vacation because he knows of something cool and of interest to him to do first. He doesn’t pick a location and then find what’s fun. This was more of challenge for Flo. He’s dying inside for Thomas to point out what’s fascinating about Ireland to him because this is so not his thing. He’s only doing it because they’re there.

When they got inside there was a little more to get Flotsam’s mind involved, not at first. It was all stone ruins. Eventually they hit a few rooms. The colors continued to be boring, but he attributed that to the aged fabrics. He assumed them to be far more brilliant in their day. The room that actually interested him the most was a child’s room oddly. He stood in there the longest. He kept waiting out other tourists. He really didn’t like the crowds there. The lines of people were annoying. Now he remembered why he toured everything in New Orleans after dark illegally or forced people out. He really did hate still hate people breathing near him and getting in his way despite how it did not show one little bit. He lived for those moments he and Thomas got a moment alone with the kids and they could simply admire on their own even if it was just a few minutes.

“Got everything you need in here for ol’ Rumpelstiltskin to come steal your kid away. Spin that straw into gold. I can’t believe this is a kid’s room. If that’s suppose to be a baby walker or a piss pot holder, I don’t know, but we’ve come up in the world. Pfft. A bed warmer. Obviously none of these people had you in their bed.” He teased his husband.

What really caught his eye in the room was the woodwork on the posters around the bed that created the canopy.

“Look there. It’s not part of the bed like modern canopy beds. The canopy is a completely separate piece. You can pull the bed right out and stick another one under it if need be. Smart. So much smarter than how they’re made today. Valerie always wanted a poster bed with the drapes, or like, the mosquito netting, but they’re all metal and look like they came from Big Lots even when they’re not. You don’t see stuff like this anymore.”

Then he laughed.

“Not that she wants children carved into her posts. Is that supposed to be Cupid? I can’t tell? Are there wings?”

Moving along to mark of the bucket list of things he refused to leave Ireland until did it items and that was kiss the Blarney Stone. Now this he’d heard about somewhere before.

“I know you have to turn upside to do it. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I heard it. Probably some asshole in a bar somewhere.” First however, there was standing in the long line of others waiting to kiss the stone. Annoying, but no big deal. More annoying because they had three wee ones with them. The more they held still the more the little ones wanted to move. That’s how it usually worked. There also wasn’t a lot of room for the stroller in the interweavings of the castle, so many skinny places, so they’d abandoned it outside. Flo figured they’d get back to it when they went to stroll the gardens.

When they got close enough to see an old gent helping people turn around to reach down into this ridiculous position to kiss a flat wall Flo became once again slightly disappointed. He was going to do it and he refused not to do it. That was his whole goal here, but to see this famous Blarney Stone wasn’t some beautiful, special, thing, or even some boulder plotted somewhere like in cartoons, but really a flat fucking brick, which could have been any brick in this fortress, brick, brick, pick a fucking brick sort of stone, Flotsam actually snorted. Talk about hype of a tourist trap, make up a myth sort of shit. He’d rather go get his over priced picture taken with the ugly creeps in the mascot uniforms in the stupid oversized chairs in the leprechaun museum. At least there they could act silly and be weird. Here it was all safety and randos breathing down your down neck. Ugh. This was just annoying, not fun at all.

As they still had a moment before it was their turn, but close enough to see now, it was disappointing they couldn’t do this sort of thing on their own too. Flotsam didn’t want the attendant involved. He thought this was something he and Thomas were going to do together. Even if it was stupid silly he wanted to have some fun with it, but the whole way it was having to be done for liability sake just made it sort of… lame. Lame as all get out actually.

Flo was starting to get antsy the closer they got and it wasn’t excitement it was almost their turn doing it. It was annoyance as he tried to figure out how to stop the lame in it’s tracks. He had two babies on his hips so his hands were full, his foot was tapping. He was starting to breathe heavy.

He leaned into Thomas’s ear. “Are we done here? Are we done inside?  Keep them windblocked by the wall.” Then he pushed an extra baby into Thomas’s arms and peered over the high fortress wall. He looked at the line of people behind him. “Does Ireland have 911? Let’s go to the garden next. I’ve got plants to pick.”

Then as Flotsam took to his turn giving Thomas one last child to take care of for a moment he would look ever so innocent and polite as he took the man’s hand to help him lean back after climbing the 127 stairs for this lame tradition. The only thing was, as Flo went through the process, finally, he in his antsiness got his zombie dust ready, and released it right in the ol’ unassuming attendant’s face. This would cause the man to collapse on Flotsam as he was leaning down backwards in this very unsafe position.

“THOMAS!”

He’d grip the rail tight with one hand and his leg would stomp and flail as if trying to get his attention.

“Get him off me. Something’s wrong. Help.”

The whole crowd behind Thomas was gasping and pointing. Some hero types were even trying to push up behind Thomas trying to see better but it was so narrow they couldn’t yet.

The answer was yes Flotsam just zombie dusted the old man to make it seem like he had a heart attack on top of him just to be able to get Thomas down in the kissing stone hole with him and had every intention of walking away and not giving one little shit about the attendant or the rest of the people after he got what he wanted.

Admittedly, this might not be the most exciting vacation, but Thomas felt like he’d been put on the spot a bit. He put more time and attention into picking the perfect residence rather than the actual location itself. He only had a couple of hours to put it all together after all since Flotsam wanted to leave the very next day. So no, he wasn’t a tour guide, and no he didn’t know many of the attractions, and no he didn’t come up with any sort of itinerary and was playing it by ear, so maybe next time Flotsam wouldn’t just put it all on his shoulders?

He was an easy to please guy. He really enjoyed the Spanish castles and everything there, but he also liked this simplicity. As Flotsam said, it was so him. He could spend days just looking at the rolling green, the ocean coming up on their private beach, picking up seashells, watching Marrassa enjoy the constant rainfall, looking at these castles that Flotsam found boring. He liked adventure sure, but he didn’t need it the way that Flotsam needed constant stimulation.

But he was enjoying the banter that they were having, making fun of the way that these people used to live their lives. “Aye, but I’m only your bedwarmer. As long as you’re with me, you’re never going to need one,” He said, liking Flotsam’s flirty little comment, getting close to his hand as they looked at everything. “Really like the canopy posts. Wonder if they got kinky with those.”

Handcuffs could fit nicely on them, or just some regular old silky rope bindings. He wouldn’t mind having Flotsam try that out on him, actually. The cruelest type of pleasure - not being able to touch his husband but being entirely at his mercy? Yeah, he liked that.

But he totally perked up when Flotsam said that Valerie wanted something like that. “You know ... I can make something like that happen,” He offered. Not children carved on it, god no. “I’d do much better than cupids.” Maybe some eels swimming around. Add some skulls for the more macabre look that they loved. He could work with Valerie, work with Flotsam, to get it exactly as they wanted. Maybe he shouldn’t be taking on another project, what with working on the settlement and talking with Bastien about his own house idea, but he loved to make gifts for his spouse. Fuckin’ loved it.

The Blarney Stone though. There were definitely ways to bypass the line a bit. Play a little coy, a little sneaky. The babies getting fussy actually helped their cause because there were a lot of people who couldn’t stand the sound, got uncomfortable. One or two of them left because of it, and boom, one step closer to the stone.

Thomas wasn’t happy about the attendant either. In fact, once they got close enough, he was glaring, and not trying to hide it. Not a death glare but a ‘I don’t want you anywhere around me’ sort of glare. Did they not trust him to hold up his own husband? There was no one else’s arms that he was safer in. He scoffed as well, but just because of the attendant. Didn’t matter of the Blarney stone was made of solid gold and came out of a pope’s ass, he didn’t want this guy touching Flotsam, so long as he could help it.

“Sir yes sir,” He said, slight admiration and a grin when he saw that Flotsam was coming up with something that would allay both of their frustration. He took the second baby, carrying both of them easily enough in his arms. They fit in so perfectly there - it was going to be hard when they outgrew him. “999 technically,” He knew, since it was that way around the whole of the UK.

Looks like Flotsam had a bone to pick too, but that was too lame a pun, he didn’t even say it out loud.

He loaded the third baby onto that baby holding backpack that had come in handy for times like this. He was so one of those dads who would strap up with a baby in the front, and then a baby in the back sometimes. He liked surprising people. Oh, you’re behind me. Let me just turn around and - SURPRISE BABY.

He just noticed the dust, and made sure to protect the three little ones in case some of it spread it into the air with the wind and Flotsam’s blow. And then fucking right he was all up in there, giving the attendant a shove - maybe a little more harsher than was needed, but then took hold of his husband, grabbing onto him securely. He’d never let him fall. Never let him slip. Even if Thomas himself might, he was always more steady footed when it was on someone else’s behalf.

“Gift of the Gab clearly isn’t the only magic you can do with that mouth,” Thomas said with a grin. One baby on one knee, one baby on the other, a third on his back, and arms holding onto Flotsam’s waist, his biceps working to keep the babies in place on his lap. He quite literally had his hands and everything else full, but he managed. Thank you werewolfism.

Of course people were calling 999. Get this man an ambulance. But once Flotsam got what the had wanted, the couple and their three kids would walk away without looking back. Perhaps they could be seen as cruel for doing that, but fuck that guy. Probably used that position to touch all up on people all the time anyway. He couldn’t see why else anyone would.

We reconnected with the stroller, but the babes inside, and headed to the poison garden, as was our plan.

In the storage compartment, Thomas had stashed away some bags and some gloves, knowing very well they’d be leaving with more than they came in with. He just wanted to be careful about it. Flotsam’s heart was still not a hundred percent, and it would be easier for a touch of poison to end this paradise that was their lives. He handed a pair to his husband and put some on himself. At least he had the forethought for this part.

“We should steal one of the signs,” He smirked, seeing the skull and crossbones everywhere.

After a lovely evening with his husband, lovely. Lovely. Flotsam's mind started to realize a part of them was always Valerie and just like parts of Flo remained in Val, Val's manner of speech/thinking was still in Flo. He did. He had a god damn lovely evening with his husband before packing for Ireland. Now he remembered why he missed having a dick though. How lucky was he to experience his handsome husband every way possible?

He woke in a good mood. Even going back to bottle mode didn't feel as intense as it did the first time now that he'd gotten to switch back and forth. There was a safe feeling in knowing all he had to do was take off the necklace if Valerie really needed to. All Flo's little secret fears and true wishes were out of the bag so to say and Thomas and his wolf helped put Flo at ease there too. Halloweening was on the list of to dos. So Flo wasn't freaking out. Everything was going to be okay no matter where in the world they were. He still wanted to get away after all he'd learned of himself in the middle of what else had been stressing him. So he was back to escapism mode with the vacation wanting to get away, but really, it wasn't so heavy anymore. Thomas was still being the fix it guy for him and all it took was a conversation he never wanted to have.

The first thing Flotsam did was start to write a list of things he wanted to do before leaving Ireland. Order mattered not. He found the basics, as far as basics go for him. He isn't the sort to want to tour every damn castle in Ireland or anywhere else in Europe. But, Blarney Castle he'd go for.

"Babe. So fair warning. I'm taking the kids to carry out their first felony. We will accomplish a family heist at the Blarney Castle and steal plants from the Poison Garden. Goals. I have them."

Go to Blarney Castle

Kiss the Blarney stone

Steal plants from the Poison Garden

The Northern Lights

See The Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Grand Opera House in Belfast ((because it has to be fate that's playing while they're there))

The National Leprechaun Museum

Titanic Museum

Goals indeed. "Northern lights. Pretty sure there's somewhere in Ireland you can see them. I so wished you were there when I got to go to Alaska. I wished it the whole time we were staring at the sky. Not that I told anyone this back then because I was still in young crush me who refuses to tell anyone I like you in that wayish. But, we can see them in Ireland too. Even better. Your green world. Meant to be. Has to happen."

He was googling things on their way there, in parking lots, in lines, sitting around waiting for flights, all those boring moments he took his moment to play tourist. He spoke as they were on their way to the rental.

"Rocky Horror is playing at the Grand Opera House. Feels like an authentic Irish experience to me." He laughed having a hard time picturing Rocky Horror being done with Irish accents and couldn't help not smiling. "Leprechaun museum for cheesy pictures with the kids and Titanic Museum for morbid pictures of us having fun taking end of ship movie photos at what's essentially a memorial of dead people's things drudged up from bottom of the ocean, Captain. Gotta love capitalism." He said with his own cheesy grin.

He grinned over at him when he called him Captain remembering their date on the boat. He really liked that. "We should buy a boat. Also this is the last trip without Pippin. I'm getting her a damn plane for real. The one I would have ended up getting Chip. I halted on that because of his zombie-thing worried that maybe he shouldn't be flying around after all wings or not. But, Pip's still clear headed. If anything they can fly together and she can take over if he zombies out."

They were building an air strip out in Nola. It's all Feral now. They were probably never going back any how. Time to consider where to keep a private plane elsewhere.

When they finally pulled into the rental and Flotsam got to see where his escape was going to be he smiled. It felt like something Thomas would pick.

"Look at you giving us the real deal experience, Cap. This is so great. Perfect for all of us." He kept picturing him with the sea behind him. Something kept making his mind go back to that date. He remembered how Thomas looked with the blue waves of adventure behind him. But, he really did like the privacy there. With the triplets he liked their own space. He'd accept the maid service for the time being. Flo's one of those people who would rather do something himself than have people near him sometimes. So, it would be no wonder if he ever called them off or put a do not disturb on the property as a whole because fuck people. No maid outfit required for Thomas. It would probably weird Flo out if he did.

"Oh, you know what else I want to do at some point? Go to the rebel poet's pub. James Clarence Mangan. I don't know the name of it. But, I know it's in Ireland. I'll find it if I look it up. But, I heard he haunts a pub in Ireland. I'm going to find out if it's true." Leave it to Flotsam to want to go get autographs of dead celebrities, not live ones. "Maybe Leap Castle, but only because I know it's like one of the hauntedier ones and I would love to see the murder hole, but really. I don't need to see every castle in Ireland, ya feel me?"

Then right as he said ya feel me as he walking through the quaint style cottage of neutral colors he spotted the prize winner of the property. The ocean.

"Oh!"

It was ocean front property. Flotsam started to glow. He didn't need River's inner physical glow to see this beaming straight from the inside out. He stopped yick yacking and his whole face lit up.

"Oh my fucking a-hole. Look at that. Look what you did. We are sitting next to the ocean. Like... on purpose. We can just walk outside and it's... it's right there." He pointed out at it over top of the stroller he'd been pushing. "Right there." He jumped enough to where both feet came off the floor and knees rose waist high. His feet in those heavy kicks stamped back down. "Right there, Thomas. It's right there. Real ocean."

They didn't have to get into a car and drive there first, get the car and go home after, consider the light of day, or night, length of travel back for drying off, cleaning up, anything that beach brings on. It wasn't a lake shore. It wasn't a river's shore like on the old Mississippi. It wasn't a swamp. It was a real life ocean shore.

"Right. There." He kept pointing.