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everythinginyou · 1 year ago

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Everything In You: Chapter 2

Simon was the first to wake. Up until his most recent adventure, he had woken up and gone to sleep at the same time every day, so he was used to waking up before his alarm went off. As his vision gradually came to him, he noticed the light from his window felt off, and more pertinently, the woman of his dreams was sprawled across his entire body diagonally, snoring peacefully. The weight of her sleeping form pressing him deeper into his mattress was familiar and welcome despite making his breathing somewhat labored, and it took him a few moments to recall that it was actually her crushing him. How many mornings had he woken up praying she would be there when he opened his eyes? Simon smiled sleepily, closing his eyes once more and listening to her snores. He silently thanked every power he could think of for this prayer that after centuries had been answered.

After some time, Betty’s snoring quieted. The redhead yawned and clumsily smacked her own face to rub the sleep from her eyes, which caused Simon beneath her to wince. Suddenly alarmed, she flailed for her glasses and quickly donned them to assess where she had woken up. Betty turned and looked into the pale eyes of her beloved Simon, whom she was now evidently using as a mattress pad.

“G’morning Betty.” Simon wheezed.

“Sorry!” Betty blushed, scrambling to remove herself from the pencil-thin man she had rolled onto in her sleep.

“It’s alright, it kind of breaks the tension right away, doesn’t it?” Simon and Betty chuckled together as he sat up to retrieve his own glasses from the table beside him. Adjusting them on his face, he noticed the digital alarm clock that had sat beside them all night now read 12:26.

“Did we sleep all day?” he furrowed his brow, not completely convinced his eyes had adjusted correctly yet.

“That makes sense,” Betty remarked, “I haven’t slept in twelve years apparently.”

Simon laughed with his hand to his face, “Oh my God, I haven’t slept in like this in years!”

“You must have really needed someone to crush your rib cage all night I guess.” Betty joined in his laughter.

“I guess so!” Simon agreed, not even all that jokingly.

There was a sense of relief shared between them. The pressure from the previous night was beginning to lift off of them both, and comfort was settling in its place. Betty and Simon sat on the bed giving soft smiles to each other as this realization put them both at ease.

“I guess the exhibit is just going to stay closed today. I could use a break, anyway.” Simon shrugged.

“Exhibit? What exhibit?” Betty asked.

“Oh, it’s uh, it’s my house.” Simon gestured to the corrugated metal wall over Betty’s shoulder. “That wall opens up like a garage door. People come to look at the things in my house, all the antiques, myself included, and I talk about them. I’m a living artifact here.”

Betty was shocked, this was a man she remembered valuing his privacy. He could talk the ears off of anyone who cared to listen when he had an ancient artifact to discuss; she recalled his exuberance sharing knowledge with her on their countless museum dates, but she couldn’t imagine him willingly putting himself in the lighted case to be observed and remarked on. “Wow,” she finally managed “and you like doing this?”

“I mean,” Simon looked away, “I like being part of history. I like to imagine some schoolkid as fascinated with me as I used to be with… like, cuneiform tablets and ancient manuscripts, and how they used to tell me all this information about what life was like in ancient times. I like to imagine how exciting it would have been to me as a child if I could have met someone from a thousand years ago still living, and what insights they could have given me on their daily lives. I would have killed for someone like myself at that age… but…” he trailed off, looking at Betty who was waiting for him to continue, “but, it hasn’t really been what I had hoped it would be. It’s not exactly my dream career. It feels so much more like a sideshow than an educational showcase most days.”

“Then why don’t you find something more fulfilling to spend your time doing?” Betty inquired.

“The world has changed so much I don’t even know what else I would do. I’m too old to be out here looking for entry-level jobs, y’know?” Simon deflated, resigned to his fate. Betty didn’t accept that so easily, and shook her head. “Society can’t be so fundamentally different now that you can’t find somewhere you belong in it.”

“What would I be?” Simon asked.

“What do you want to be?” Betty pressed.

Simon paused, considering the question she had posed. That answer had changed more times than he could remember. “I don’t know…” he answered under his breath.

“You don’t have to know right now,” Betty conceded. “but I remember the man you always wanted to be.”

Betty took her fiancé by the chin and turned his face up to look at her. Simon blushed at her sudden surge of assertiveness and met her gaze.

“You are Dr. Simon Petrikov. You are the kindest, sweetest, bravest, cleverest, most eloquent, funniest, best-dressed, handsomest scholar in this dimension.”

Simon laughed bashfully, growing pinker with every descriptor, “Well, I’m not much of a scholar these days, nice as that would be.”

“What’s stopping you?” Betty questioned.

“Well, there aren’t really any universities in Human City, not even in Ooo as far as I’m aware. Long-gone are the days of higher education I’m afraid.” Simon sighed.

“That can’t be right. You haven’t encountered a single educational institution since the war?” Betty questioned.

“There’s the Wizard School in Wizard City, but as much as I know, that’s more or less it. The world’s still too dangerous for academic pursuits outside of magic, I suppose.” Simon responded.

“Well, that ought to be rectified.” Betty posited with a smirk. “Don’t you think so?”

Despite his confusion by her expression, Simon didn’t disagree. “Yeah, it does feel like there should have been something established by now. It’s not like we’re living in the wastelands anymore.”

Realizing he was not taking the bait, Betty made herself clearer: “We could start our own school!”

“What?!” Simon reeled back from her excitement.

Lunging up on her knees, Betty continued, “I could be a professor of ancient history! Only, now I guess I am ancient history… But, I could speak from personal experience! You could become an archaeology professor like you always wanted to be! And you’d be so good at it; who knows more about history than someone who has lived through so much of it?!”

“Darling, it doesn’t work that way…” Simon gently resisted her enthusiastic rambling, not wanting to get his hopes too high.

“Why not? If things are so different now, who says they can’t work that way? Even the biggest universities back then had to start somewhere, right? It’s only a matter of time before someone realizes there needs to be an institution of higher education here. Why can’t you be part of it?” Betty retorted.

“It would be nice…” Simon admitted, “to be remembered for something other than being Ice King.”

“Well, I may never get out from under being GOLB,” Betty chuckled, “but it would be really nice to create something that does a lot of good, and outlasts us.”

Liking her train of thought, Simon indulged the fantasy, “We could plan lessons together. I’d guest lecture in your classes and you in mine.”

Excited that he was playing along, Betty continued, “We’d go on school-sponsored archaeological digs with our students to dig up our own stuff from back in the day.”

“I wonder if they can find my old favorite coffee mug. The one with the birds? I miss that one.” Simon pouted.

“We’d have offices right next to each other!” Betty squealed, “I’d come to your office when I’m doing research to steal kisses and books.”

“Oh, we could write another book, one about the Mushroom War, and what led up to it. Or maybe a comprehensive history of Ooo.” Simon scratched his chin as he plotted.

“And we could severely overcharge our students for it and make it a required text.” Betty joked.

The two of them laughed deep and hard at their little fantasy world they’d created, rubbing the mist of laughter and wistfulness from their eyes.

“I would love to be professors with you, Betty. I can’t imagine a more wonderful life than that.” Simon sighed.

“I bet I can.” Betty teased, taking his hand, “Imagine if my students called me Mrs. Petrikov.”

Simon smiled “Dr. Petrikov you mean.”

“Never got that far.” she reminded him sadly.

“That’s why the first degree the university will award will be the honorary doctorate to Mrs. Betty Petrikov for her outstanding and historic breakthroughs in the study of magical artifacts!” he proclaimed.

“‘The doctors' Petrikov they’ll call us.” Betty beamed.

“Oh Betty,” Simon pressed his forehead to hers in a surge of strong affection, and they both closed their eyes, “I cannot wait to be your husband. I can’t believe we finally get the chance.”

“When should we get married?” she giddily urged him, wiggling in her seat.

“As soon as possible, I don’t want to waste another minute not married to you, my love.” he wrapped his arms around her.

All of the clumsiness of their reunion had melted away, and their romance was once again in full swing. The couple pressed the softness of their bodies together; Betty positioned herself in the lap of the man before her, their hot breath intermingling as their mouths just barely touched.

Before their lips had a chance to lock, Betty once again asked, “What else do you want to be?”

“I-” Simon paused, the hotness in his cheeks draining as another thought crossed his mind, something they had once agreed on a lifetime ago, but he could not be sure was still a prospect: something he knew he and she both at one time wanted, but he wasn’t sure was the answer she was angling for. Was it even worth getting his hopes up over again? And would mentioning it now call that into question? On the other hand, would saying it have the same desirous effect on her as it once did?

“I want-” his arms were around her waist, hers around his shoulders, his heart in his eardrums, drowning out his doubt. His head was blank and his mouth dry, but he found the courage from some deep reserve to say what he truly wanted, “I want to be the father of your children.”

This was the trigger phrase. She fell into him, whining low; her lips crashing fervid and heavy into his. Her whole weight melted into his body and her hips pressed deeper into Simon’s pelvis. He was pleased to discover that they were both in complete accord in this manner once again, and that his old tricks still had the same charm on her as he returned the kiss with increased passion. As they moaned into each others’ mouths, the two grew more desperate and needy with every passing second. Hands began to wander and fingers found buttons, clumsily toying with clothing that only felt like a constrictive barrier at this moment. Betty broke her kiss to focus on the task of removing Simon’s shirt, and then her own. His hands remained on her hips as he watched her expose herself to him. His lips pursed to say “wow,” but stopped just short of embarrassing himself, instead only looking up at her with wide, sparkling eyes. Her smile down at him was warm and nurturing, and she reached down to guide his hands slowly up the sides of her waist, across her rib cage, and up to her own chest, resting them there and inviting him to keep going. His hands at her breasts, he began to gently squeeze and fondle the smooth, pliant flesh. Betty leaned her head back and hummed encouragingly. His thumb brushed across her hardening nipple and she gasped as a shockwave of chills overcame her. Simon responded to this reaction by leaning in to put his mouth around the nipple and lightly stimulating it with his tongue.

“Simon…” Betty sighed, her face reddening at the sensations that were beginning to flutter within her. In response to them, she gently grinded her hips into him and noticed the growing mound hardening against her pussy. Simon’s moans raised in pitch and he more desperately began sucking Betty’s nipples. Betty vocalized her pleasure at this, steadily getting wetter and wetter as she found a rhythm rubbing herself into his stiff cock. Simon’s voice croaked involuntarily. His concentration on her breasts broke, and he pulled her body in closer, his fingers gripping her back, pressing his torso tightly against hers.

“Oh, Betty…” Simon couldn’t bear the tease much longer; he threw himself on top of her. Betty yelped in surprise at this, but it was not at all an unwelcome escalation. Once again, his lips met hers in a moaning embrace. Positioned between her legs, he leaned back on his knees, and hooked his fingers in the elastic hem of the pajama bottoms she still wore. She smiled and allowed him to remove the garment until she was finally fully naked before him. She was all pasty-white freckled skin and red hair as above, so below. Betty lay on her back, wrists up by her flushing red ears, legs parted, and the wet, pink opening between them begged for touch. She panted, looking doe-eyed at Simon who seemed to be taking her in. Betty thought she should feel self-conscious; a man whose touch she had not known in lifetimes gazed hungrily down on her, and yet she felt no shame or meekness to him, only burning, aching want. Need.

“Please,” Betty begged.

Simon obliged. Breaking his stupor, Simon removed his own pants as quickly as he could manage. His rigid cock sprung upward as the waistband passed over it, and Betty bit her lip in excitement as she caught sight of it. He hurriedly aligned the tip of his penis with her entrance and pressed it against her very lightly, feeling how intensely wet she had become. He leaned forward, positioning himself above her with his hands on the bed on either side of her chest.

“Are you ready?” Simon whispered, seeking reassurance from his beloved before continuing.

Betty could only nod vigorously, desperate for him to fill her up.

With her confirmation, Simon looked Betty in the eyes and pushed his cock inside her all the way to the hilt.

Betty gasped and Simon threw his head back in ecstasy. He remained perfectly still and let the initial wave of pleasure wash over him, so as to not let himself get too excited too quickly. Betty, too, relished the feeling of being filled completely by him, breathless in blissful feelings bubbling up within her. A quick adjustment of angle, and Simon began to slowly and deliberately move his hips back and forth with long, gentle, full-length strokes. Betty shut her eyes, fully allowing herself to feel every inch of him.

Simon kept his eyes open. The sight of this beautiful creature splayed out before him, bare-naked, red-faced, and making pathetic needy little noises with every thrust of his cock had him rapturous. No memory in his mind, nor a century’s worth of wet dreams could compare to what was actually happening now. He focused every molecule of attention toward fucking her— toward making her feel good. He gave one firmer thrust which cased her to moan loudly and arch her back.

The change in her grip sent an electric charge through Simon’s body and he exclaimed, “Betty!” He changed pace, switching to quicker, harder strokes as he leaned forward, putting his weight now on his forearms and burying his face in the crook of her neck, grunting and whining with each thrust.

“Simon!” Betty responded to his intensity. She hooked her arms under his and wrapped them, along with her legs, around his back, clutching onto his slender frame as tightly as her limbs could manage. She pulled him in closer to her and he laid more of his weight down on her in turn. It was as if they could not get close enough to one another. Simon’s back was slick with sweat, and his forehead as well. Betty bit his shoulder, whimpering as he pounded away inside her.

The sounds of moans and wet skin, and the heat of two bodies in union filled the dusty bedroom. Both Simon and Betty were trying as hard as they could to make their first encounter last, neither of them wanted this moment to end. But a lifetime of yearning for each other’s sex had to reach its summit.

Simon felt Betty’s walls tightening around him; she began to claw his back and dig her teeth into his shoulder, letting out a string of short high whines before shouting “Don’t stop! Simon, I’m going to cum!”

Simon himself was rounding over his apex, and he propped himself up to look at his lover’s face, cupping his hands behind her head. “I’m close too…” he panted. “Simon! I’m coming!” Betty cried, her legs trembling and sweating around Simon’s thrashing hips. She felt white hot fire inside her pussy radiating up to her core, and out to every extremity. Her walls clenched tight around the base of his shaft.

“Betty!” Simon’s sweat-dripping face tensed. Her orgasm sent him hurdling over the edge he had been balanced upon, and it was as if he had been a knot that was finally untied. The immense release overtook him, and he groaned long and low, climaxing in synchronicity with her. Her head fell back to the mattress and her mouth fell agape as she rode the quivering waves of her climax. He bucked his hips, his cock spurting jets of hot cum that filled Betty’s pussy full enough to leak out of her while his twitching rod was still buried as deep in her as possible. The bedroom was warmer than it was previously, and humid from the condensation of their labored breaths. Simon had forgotten the sweet, earthy scent of copulation— of sweat and pheromones, and it awoke memories of their old bedroom and the awkward, groping encounters that occurred therein. This was better; they’d gotten better, he concluded. As he returned to awareness from his post-orgasmic bliss, he remembered that he was laying, entirely drained, with his whole weight pressing Betty into the mattress, catching his breath. The coincidence of having woken up with Betty laying heavy across his body, and having swapped roles with her was not lost on him. She continued to clutch tightly to the man who was now softening inside her, feeling the pleasant aftershocks of their lovemaking. “Oh,” Simon suddenly became aware of a transgression, and he pulled his slick member free from her cunt, a healthy gush of semen following it, for which he was embarrassed to have deposited without explicit permission “I’m so sorry, Betty I should have asked if I could…”

Betty shushed him before he could finish, “Don’t, that’s exactly what I wanted.” She reached down between her own legs and investigated what he had done to her, taking the slick fluid and slowly swirling it around her clitoris teasingly. Still sensitive and overstimulated, she shuddered at the sensation and involuntarily jerked her hand away, chuckling. Simon was surprised by her reaction, but relieved, and he sighed with contentment as he sat up on his knees and gazed at her.

Suddenly feeling awkward about staring again, Simon looked around the room, “Uhh, can I get you a towel or something? Do you need something to clean up with?”

Betty laughed at his frantic searching, “No, I’m fine, I think I’m just going to take a shower.”

“Of course!” Simon replied “I can show you where the bathroom is.”

While Betty rinsed off in the shower, Simon changed into his usual attire of a button-up shirt and bow tie. Even on occasions where he didn’t have to be seen by the general public, he liked to dress himself to the nines. He liked the way it made him feel— confident, dapper, scholarly, all the things he strove to be. And he still felt the need to impress Betty after all this time. Betty emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a yellow towel, with another wrapped around her head. Steam poured out from behind the bathroom door. She was delighted to have had a hot shower after so long without. Simon was sitting on his couch, his hands in his lap, obviously waiting for her to come out.

“Um, can I borrow some clothes? I only really have what I came with.” Betty meekly asked.

“Uh, yeah! Of course. I can ask Marceline where she and Bonnibel get their clothes from. In the meantime, let me go see if I can find something for you.” Simon stood and hurried back into his bedroom. Betty remained in the living room. She looked around, noticing more than she did before in the daylight. A statuette of a Grecian goddess stood out to her because of its anachronistic cat-eye glasses fashioned out of a red paperclip. A display of telephones from various time periods. Inexplicably, a large framed print of a jar of mayonnaise? Multiple implements for brewing coffee. A small but diverse record collection; some classical, some jazz, some classic rock. He was still an antiquarian after all.

Simon returned with a folded shirt and pants in his arms, “I don’t know if these will still fit the way we used to be able to. I may have put on a little weight around my midsection since then…” “Did you mean what you said earlier?” Betty immediately responded.

“Said what?” Simon inquired.

“Do you still want to have kids with me?” she asked.

Without missing a beat, Simon said “Well, yeah. I know we used to talk about it all those years ago, and one of my biggest regrets was not being able to start a family with you. Now, I don’t know if that’s possible anymore, but-”

“Why wouldn’t it be? I don’t know how old I am, Simon. I missed out on a thousand years, and then I guess twelve more? I don’t even know what being GOLB did to me, physically. I don’t… feel as old as I think I should be. Maybe it’s not possible, but, if it is, I want to try. I think we deserve a chance if we have any. And if there is any chance, then we should probably make that decision soon, because I don’t know how much longer we’ll have to make that work...” Betty couldn’t look Simon in the eyes as she confessed all of her thoughts. She wrung her hands, glancing from floorboard to floorboard as she spoke.

This was a lot for Simon to process. It took him some time to understand what she was saying. He stood in the bedroom door frame, spare clothes in hand, staring wide-eyed at the towelled woman before him. Without really thinking, he said, “Okay.” Unlike Betty, he did feel older. There were signs of aging in him that his beloved did not display. In fact, she barely looked a day older than the day he met her. It was absurd for him to think about becoming a father when his hair was greying and his face displayed new wrinkles to discover every time he regarded himself in a mirror, but he did not stop to consider this when presented with the opportunity to rectify an injustice he deeply wished to correct for so long. Simon Petrikov had become a father figure to many in his lifetime, and yet he still longed for the joys of fatherhood. “We’ll try. We’ll keep trying. I want to give you a baby.” he declared firmly.

Betty grinned, delighted by his response. From the moment she imagined them starting a life together, she knew she wanted to have a child with him. If it were possible, she couldn’t pass up on such an opportunity. “Okay! But if we’re going to do this, we are going to do this right.”

#petrigrof #simon petrikov #adventure time #simonposting #simon adventure time #fiona and cake #adventure time simon #betty grof #fanfic #fanfiction #happy ending #pining

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rogueshadeaux · 2 years ago

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Chapter Seventeen — Reascendance

6k words | 20 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: child death, implied terrorism. Sorta ooc Delsin but just pretend it's his customer service voice

Brent didn’t object when I appeared in his bedroom in the middle of the night — I knew he was awake, he wasn’t snoring. He didn’t even say anything when I took one side of the full sized bed and bundled up in the woven blanket, finally managing to fall asleep. Maybe it was the few years before we moved to Chapman where we shared a twin mattress as toddlers in that one bedroom apartment in downtown Portland, or maybe it was the fact that we entered this world sharing a womb — but I always felt better with Brent close. He’d never admit it, but he felt the same — it was an unspoken agreement of sorts.

We were up all too soon again for exams, of all things, Betty shuttling us to the absolutely miniscule high school and parking in its front lot. “God, how many kids go to school here?” Brent asked, sleep still thickening his voice.

Betty, being chairman of the Akomish, apparently knew. “Well the middle school has about 350 kids and the high school has 270.”

“Middle—“ I cut off, glancing back at the school. “Is this a blended school?”

Betty nodded. Holy shit, I didn’t even know schools were allowed to do that.

Four teachers met us in the lobby, guiding us through a hall that seemed smaller than the one at my fucking gyno. We were taken to a small computer lab in a glorified broom closet, and told we’d take each exam with a break in between. “We provide lunches to those on the free and reduced lunch program during the holiday,” one guy with thick glasses said. “You’ll attend lunch with them at 11:45.”

All this life changing drama and yet I somehow couldn’t escape my AP Lit exam.

But hey, we survived, finishing up just before eleven and told to just sit tight. “You can even play around on the computers if you’d like,” a woman teacher that stayed behind offered, her partners all going to the lunchroom to prepare it.

There was no hesitation; Brent immediately began typing in a news channel’s domain name, and I left my place on the other side of the room to sit beside him.

The march was headlining news, helicopter view of COLE’s remains, which was now gated and its front absolutely covered in little offerings. Couple posters I couldn’t make out, unlit candles, one section completely dedicated to a pile of dinosaur toys. There had to be thousands, all lined up in the street and contesting it enough they had to fan into the corners of the intersections, and there at the head was Eugene Sims.

But no Dad.

That didn’t make sense; he left at 9 at night. He probably got to Portland by midnight, two in the morning if he was more cautious. Why wasn’t he there? Did something happen?

Brent’s leg started going again.

But eventually 11:05 came, and Dr. Sims started forward, leading the entire march with his own group of supporters at its head. It took me a moment to realize I knew a lot of those in the group he walked with; that financial advisor who always played on his PS Vita-lity in the break room, Annabelle. He specifically linked his arm with a woman in all black, and it took me a second to tell it was the mom of that seven year old, the charred remains of that little toy Annabelle made in her hands.

But no Dad.

We were ushered to the cafeteria at some point, something that didn’t really register with me because of how absolutely worried I was. I wasn’t sure if I should say luckily, but the teachers had a television going on in the cafeteria with the same feed, volume turned high, a bunch of kids ranging from sixth to senior in the tables surrounding it, all turning in place to stare at us as we were directed where to sit and handed some tray with cold cut ham sandwiches and baby carrots.

“Hey,” one called, an older boy with hair damn near as long as mine, staring straight past me to Brent. “Aren’t you the guy from the Longhouse yesterday?”

One of the kids, seemingly excitable ‘cause she simply wouldn’t stop moving, confirmed before Brent could even try to. “Yeah! That’s the dude with the wings!”

We were surrounded before I could even blink.

It wasn’t a bad thing, though; the younger ones were absolutely enamored, begging him to pull the wings out and making him act all awkward. There was one girl who immediately began flirting with him and his ears started to turn pink, but he managed to keep his cool enough to say, “Sorry, I’ve uh, got a girl.”

The guy with long hair slid in beside me. “They’re saying you’re Rowe’s kids,” he directed at me, the only one to actually pay me any mind. “That true?”

My first chance at admitting it. “Yeah, we are,” I said with barely any hesitation, the teeniest bit of pride managing to burst through the nausea.

“Jean,” Brent said urgently, shooting up to stand, “Jean, look.”

There was a bit of commotion on the television now; the march had been met with a small batch of Lifeline protestors that broke through the police barrier on an adjoining street, practically rushing forward to meet Dr. Sims and the COLE survivors. He made them stop, letting the mother of the seven year old go and gently putting her behind him, standing tall and refusing to flinch. The cops didn’t look in any rush to aid Dr. Sims either, the bastards. “They’re just gonna let them get through,” I scoffed, not even bothering to phrase it as a question as we walked closer to the television, the group moving with us. Cops around the march didn’t even flinch at the Lifeline protestors, instead eyeing the marchers, waiting for them to move to take action.

“Where the hell is he?” Brent muttered, and I instinctively reached out to grab at his wrist in an effort to stay there. If Dad was in trouble, we’d already know, right? But I mean, how? It isn’t like he could message us, and if something happened with that Archangel thing, wouldn’t the whole point be for no one to know?

I glanced at Brent, who was already looking down at me with the same face. I was about three minutes from stealing a car and driving to Portland myself.

Brent looked back to the television as I felt a tap on my shoulder, a little face full of equal amounts freckles and acne looking up at me. God, was I that small at some point? “Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend?” She asked, giggling.

Oh I wanted to vomit. Did we really look that unalike? “Ew, god no, he’s my twin,” I almost gagged out, going to move my hand from around his wrist. His hand twisted and shot out though to keep it in place, the grip hard.

“They’re not stopping,” Brent muttered, eyes still glued to the television.

The chatter around us died off as they all began to realize there were more important things going on — like the altercation that was about to begin on television. Dr. Sims was losing control of the crowd, who were beginning to shift defensively. A few of the Conduits in the crowd called up their powers, the stagnant hold of sleeves of their abilities waiting to be used. Lifeline was making an aggressive beeline straight for the center, seemingly not intending on giving them any kind of space, and the cops in riot gear surrounding the show readied their weapons.

But off to the side, some hard light overexposed the camera, making the Lifeliners stop abruptly in place — especially as the aura of neon rushed down the side of a building at a speed I never knew he was capable of, the camera’s frame rate catching frozen glimpses of him mid-run. He zipped onto the road and skidded to a stop in the middle of the 10 feet of space between Lifeline and the COLE survivors, the pink and blue neon on his body slipping away into the air with a snap like a lightning bolt. Dad stood, shoulders squared and chest out as he eyed them, challenging them to try and push further.

They didn’t dare move.

Eugene Sims broke away from the crowd, closing that space and meeting Dad there in the middle, a hand clapping his shoulder. Dad turned, the two embracing for a quick squeeze featuring that man-back-slap thing, separating just as the camera tried zooming in on the Conduit emblem on Dad’s back. The anchor was saying something about it being Delsin Rowe, and the kids around us began looking at us again, but I didn’t care — he was okay. He made it there, and was alive.

There was newfound vigor to the marchers, Dr. Sims taking time to lead Dad back to the group of survivors. They hovered there for quite a while, giving the camera the chance to grab that million-dollar angle it was looking for a moment ago, zoomed in only on Dad now as he talked to the COLE survivors. He went to reach out to the mother but paused midair, hands eventually falling back to his side. He was making his apologies.

Lifeline didn’t move this entire time; in fact, when the camera zoomed back out, it showed they were standing stupidly in the middle of the road, wind gone from their sails. Their dumb little picket signs hung at their sides now, and they glanced at each other confused. Now that their theories were proven real, it seemed like they lost a reason to fight at all. Like they lost their cause, the ability to point their fingers accusingly.

I guess that’s why, when Dad and Dr. Sims turned back around to resume the march, the Lifeline idiots gave them a wide berth, moving to the sidewalk and pushing as close to the building as possible. Dad took his place beside Eugene Sims at the helm of the Second Age Movement, only one other person missing from the original trio.

I’m pretty sure I failed my Earth Science exam when we were shepherded back to that computer room, if I’m being honest. There was just so much distractive chatter in my mind that wouldn’t shut the hell up as I tried to remember if oceanic crust is thinner or denser than continental. Brent finished his exam a whole hour and a half later, and we left to find Betty waiting for us with her little Beetle, beaming at the fact that she gets to take us to Seattle — and immediately deflating when she figured out it wasn’t the first time we’ve been there. “We went with Dad to a gala two years ago,” Brent informed her. “Something for COLE’s charity donations,”

She just huffed in a comical way, telling us to get in.

Seattle’s skyscrapers reached higher than Portland’s, and there were so many more here too. It was strange being here with new context to our lives; this is where things changed for Dad. This is where he and Mom met. This is where Dad helped change things for Conduits. Not Delsin, Dad.

Yeah, still weird to think about.

But we got our phones, sitting in the cellular provider’s store and watching the television that streamed the end of the march as Dad, Dr. Sims and everyone else descended on Portland’s city hall. There were a few minutes of stagnant movement, the camera switched from aerial coverage to on scene as amps appeared and a mic was put up. It was normal for Dr. Sims to speak after events like this —he was their Martin Luther King Jr. after all —and sometimes when it was after a tragedy, he’d have survivors or family come up after to state their piece.

So it was surprising when Dad stepped up to the mic first.

Even now, in the throngs of a mall during last minute Christmas shopping, there was a tension to the air as people watched from food court televisions or the screens in here while Dad readjusted the mic a bit. There was feedback the news camera barely caught, and a weird staticky hum as Dr. Sims appeared beside Dad in a puff of pixels, a hand on his shoulder as he took a deep breath to steady himself, thinking hard on how to start.

“For nearly sixteen years,” he finally said into the mic, putting on his smooth and slightly-deeper-sounding lawyer voice, “I’ve gone by the name Damion Rowland, and for ten of those, I’ve worked as a head legal consultant for COLE. But…the rumors are true. I’m Delsin Rowe.”

There were immediate whispers, auditable in the crowd on the television and in the food court on our left. Dad inhaled deeply again, continuing with, “I hid after my fiancée, Abigail Walker, was killed, to protect our twins. The same fear-mongering rhetoric that took nineteen lives yesterday took my children’s mother, and I didn’t want them to be next. So I hid. That all changed last Wednesday when my daughter was kidnapped and my son was shot, all to bring me out of hiding. They…neither of them knew who I was, either. And I know most of you have seen the CCTV footage, so there’s no point in hiding it: they’re Conduits, too. I’ve spent the past few days helping them come to terms with the truth and their powers.

“But my absence shouldn’t have provoked something like this. Nineteen people are dead, and for what? Why?” He demanded, glancing over the crowd, knowing they wouldn’t have an answer either. “Everything I’ve ever feared, nineteen different families get to experience. Right behind me is a parent that lost her son because of this attack. A seven year old boy, Elliot Prue, who loved the Mariners and dinosaurs. She—” he pointed to the mom off behind him, who had the burnt stuffed toy held close to her chest, “—shouldn’t have to bury her son. Our sixteen year old resident, Amelia Soto, shouldn’t have had her life ended before it even began. My assistant should have been able to retire, Not a single person that lost their life yesterday should have.”

Dad paused to reel himself in a bit, visibly upset at the state of things. Eugene’s hand left his shoulder to go to the mother behind Dad, who began to sob, and Dad’s shoulder visibly sagged with the absence. “I have approval from the Portland Police department and the FBI to announce that we know the cause of yesterday’s attack. A dozen people were radicalized by something called Archangel, met through the networking of this group and began planning this attack almost seven months ago. Archangel was also behind the attack on my children, so we’re assuming that the attack yesterday…that it had something to do with me. Whether they thought I’d be here in Portland’s COLE chapter or if it would draw me out, I’m not sure.

“But I’m here now. And I can promise you all that I will do everything I can to help stop these attacks, not just violent shootings and bombs and whatever — but the words and legislation that’s causing all the fear. Conduits are here to stay, people are going to have to make peace with that. Cole MacGrath’s efforts to save those without the Conduit gene came at the price of having to live with us, and it’s time we begin searching for ways to live harmoniously, because it isn’t going to change. No more harassing your neighbors, no more stalking random people. I am going to return to my position at COLE to push back against the Conduit Registration Bill, as well as file suits against the various segregational legislations that’ve been passed recently. We’re looking to expand in fifteen more major cities in America, as well as starting chapters in Canada and Europe and expanding our services. I can only do so much for Conduits, though — it’s up to our government to find ways to bring peace to the nation without impeding on anyone’s rights.”

Dad’s eyes found the camera this news channel was streaming on, and his stare went entirely icy, so harsh that it felt like I was getting reprimanded a state away. “And as for this Archangel thing — I’m only giving a single warning to whoever is perpetrating these attacks. Using low-tier criminals and radicalized conspiracy theorists to do your bidding is weak, and it isn’t something I’m intimidated by. You wanted me out in the open? I’m here. I won’t let you use the lives of innocent people, of my children, to try and, what, scare me? It isn’t working. All you’ve done is piss me off. I’m only going to say it once: back off. Because if anything else happens, and I have to fight back? You’re going to regret ever challenging the one person with experience tearing down organizations like yours.”

That seemed to be where Dad wanted to stop, looking over his shoulder and waiting for Dr. Sims to look up, motioning towards the mic.

The quiet in the mall erupted into chatter, shock and disbelief at the actual Delsin Rowe being back. “How didn’t anyone know? That looks like him,” I heard someone say as they entered a Bath and Body Works, rolling her eyes like there weren't eight layers of complication to the lie. Another person walked past saying, “Rowe’s kids deserved it after all the bullshit he did,” and I had to physically grip Brent by his wrist and drag him away. Thank god he was wearing the beanie so no one would realize his hair changed color.

“Do you two need anything?” Betty asked, spinning to face us. “I know you left home with next to nothing, and I have fifteen Christmases to make up for.” She didn’t even wait for us to answer, just spun back on her heel and said, “C’mon, let’s get you two some new clothes.”

We started to object, but the glare she shot over her shoulder shut us up. She may have been old, but I had no doubt we’d get in deep shit if we continued to go against what she said. She was little, but kinda scary. Like a rabid cat.

She took us to as many discount department stores as possible, trying her best to get as much as she could for us out of some invisible limit she set in her mind. At first it was awkward, and Brent and I fished for the most minimal, low-priced items we could; but the way Betty’s face lit up when Brent found a nice jacket with some soft sherpa lining, and with how she insisted on him getting it…I don’t know, it was sort of sweet. It activated that deep want within me to have a grandmother, someone who’s entire job description was to love and spoil and care about me. Seems Brent got the same impression, because soon it became a sort of family bonding day, Betty learning more about us than we offered in the past five days and taking time to actually ask questions and become interested in everything we did, everything we were.

“Oh, you do art?” Betty smiled when she caught me in the discount art section of a Ross, casually browsing all the upended supplies. “You’re so much like your father. I still have so many of his drawings from his school years, they’re hiding somewhere in storage–”

“You’ve got to show me those,” I laughed.

Looking at the art supplies was a bit of a mistake, because we were both suddenly harassed into getting things we wanted, not just needed. Betty didn’t let me leave that aisle until I had a new sketchbook in hand and a pack of watercolor paints Brent handed to me as a joke, Betty missing the tease entirely and grabbing the set when I chucked it back at his chest, insisting I get it. “Yeah, c’mon Jean, think about how easy it’ll be to use those now.” He smirked, knowing good and well the last time I used watercolors it looked less Van Gogh and more God, no.

“I hope you rust over one day, Tin Man,”

All that teasing dissipated, though, when Brent discovered there was an official LEGO shop on the other end of the mall. I mean, it did from him — I sure didn’t spare him from a few comments of my own.

Everything ended at the same food court we were by when we got our phones, Betty having us put her number in our phones and message her our favorite Panda Express orders so she’d have ours. “Oh, I nearly forgot,” she gasped out, “Your father wanted you to call as soon as you could, I have his number—”

“We’ve got it memorized,” Brent assured her. “We’ll call while you grab food.”

Brent was dialing in the number before she’d left, saying as it rang, “Maybe I should have messaged him first, I dunno if he’s gonna answer some unknown nu—”

“Hello?”

Dad sounded winded, a bit tired in a non-negative way. Like someone does after a footrace or swimming. “Hey, Dad,” Brent greeted, putting the phone on speaker and bringing it close to his ear, motioning for me to move closer so I could hear too. The mall was packed, and because of that, it was loud too.

“Hey, son,” I could hear the smile in his voice, “Guessing you got your phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Your sister too? No issues?”

“Yeah, I did,” I said, tacking on a, “How are you?”

“Oh, hey Jean!” Dad’s chuckle was breathless as he said, “It’s something, being back out here like this. Did you see any of it?”

“Yeah, we did. Saw your speech and saw you get there late—” Brent glanced at me and motioned forward. “See you right now, too.”

I looked where Brent was pointing, to a large flat screen television posted on the skylight’s support beam; the news’ camera feed was still, not exactly grounded but definitely not in a helicopter, pointed to Dad as he paced a bit in place in an alleyway, phone to his ear.

But he froze immediately when Brent said that, glancing around. “What do you mean you see me now? You’re not here, right?”

I chuckled, “No, you’re still on camera.”

Dad’s eyebrows furrowed, and he kept looking around, suspicious. “Well that’s great,” He scoffed, annoyed. “Where?”

“Okay so, turn right.” Dad did, Brent immediately becoming confused when Dad’s back faced the camera. “Wait that’s — are cameras inverted?” he asked me.

“No, you’re just an idiot, that’s Dad’s left. Dad, turn around.”

“Wait are they — are they left or behind?”

“Around, do a 180.”

Dad turned in place, and I caught the tail end of an eye roll. “Okay, now what?”

“Whatever’s in front of you, it’s on that, but higher. Start looking up.”

“What, on this building?” Dad asked, eyes trailing up and shooting around. It only took a few glances before his eyes settled on screen, looking directly in the camera’s lens. “Oh, there it is.”

And with that, he raised a hand, pink and blue beginning to swirl around his arm in a bright pulse, and shot the camera, killing the feed. “Can you still see me?”

“No, you’re good now.”

“Good, okay.” Dad sighed. “I don’t want anyone recording our conversation.”

“But there wasn’t audio—” I started, Dad immediately cutting me off as if he knew that was what I was going to bring up.

“Even if there isn’t, they can still get someone to read my lips,” He tacked on, the camera switching to helicopter view, trying to focus in on him in the alley. With a camera so much farther away, his features became grainy as it zoomed in. “It’s — we’ve gotta be safe, now.”

“Yeah,” Brent hummed. I started nodding, taking a moment to remember he wouldn’t be able to see me before throwing in some sound of agreement.

“That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you two about. Have either of you logged into anything online, or talked to anyone yet?”

“We haven’t had the chance,” I shook my head, “Betty’s made this into a whole field trip, this is the first time we’ve actually sat and gotten on them.”

Brent inhaled, “I did. I got on my discord while you were trying on something.”

“Trying on—” Dad sighed, the camera feed catching him bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Betty took you two shopping, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“I shoulda known.” Dad shook his head, laughing. But the sound quickly died in his throat. “If you saw the speech, you heard about Archangel. They’re behind yesterday’s attack, and I — we need to be careful for a bit longer, at least until Eugene and I find out more about them. I know I said you could talk to people and such, but until we know more about these guys, I want you to keep quiet. Don’t log into anything that can track your location, don’t tell anyone where you are.”

“Do you know why they did it?” I asked, admittedly throwing a glance over my shoulder; was it even safe to be out right now?

Dad shrugged on camera, shaking his head. “Not really. I know I made them sound incompetent in my speech but these guys know what they’re doing. And the attackers won’t talk — they brought me in as a last resort to talk to who they think was in charge of everything, and he said something about it. That’s all we’ve gotten out of them so far,”

“But you think it has something to do with you?” Brent asked.

“When the FBI sent me into the interrogation room, we had this whole thing planned where I’d pose as his counsel, see if I could get him to slip up. Guy knew I was Delsin Rowe, even without the vest,” Dad scoffed. “Called me out and said something about how Archangel was going to be happy to know I was returning. I know it has something to do with me.”

I began absentmindedly playing with the aglet on the end of my hoodie’s drawstring. “That’s not good,” I muttered, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious.

“It isn’t,” Dad agreed, “And until Eugene and I can learn more about them, I want you two to stay safe. So far we know none are Conduits, and they’re all lackeys to something bigger — but what is that bigger, y’know?”

“They’re probably just some sort of Lifeline wanna-be,” Brent scoffed, “Bunch of crazies that got too ahead of themselves,”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Dad leaned against a wall on camera, glancing up at the helicopter, “But either way, they had the organizational skills to kill nineteen people. To find me and track Jean in the mall. Crazies or not, I don’t like that they can plan,”

“Makes them stronger.” I threw in.

“Exactly.”

“Dr. Sims — what’s his power, technology?” I asked.

Dad chuckled a bit. “Close — video.”

Right, video. What the hell did video powers entail? Either way, I continued with, “Can he use it to follow any like, online footprints? I don’t really know how the power works but they had to coordinate somehow,”

Dad hummed. “That’s a good point. I know Eugene can manipulate technology to an extent, I’ll see what he can do. Maybe I’ll work with the FBI to see if we can get access to their things under the Patriot Act and look over them tomorrow.”

Brent seemed to catch on to something, the thought in the back of his mind forcing its way out of his mouth as he asked, “Are you still gonna come back tomorrow?”

I could see Dad’s hand come up, making some sort of motion that I only realized a few seconds later was snapping. “I wanted to bring that up, too. I was thinking about swinging by the house and grabbing some things, since we’re going to be staying in Salmon Bay for now. Get all your clothes, grab some other stuff until we decide what happens next. But that’d mean I definitely wouldn’t be back till Christmas Eve.”

Brent glanced at me, and I could see the discomfort in his eyes; there've been times on his work trips before where extra days were added to it, and we weren’t really phased. But now? I really wanted nothing more than to know he was going to be back as soon as possible. But on the other hand, having some of my actual possessions, clothes that fit right and my makeup and the chest that held my art supplies — it didn’t sound too bad.

“Sure, if you want,” I eventually said, watching Dad nod on screen.

“Okay. I won’t be able to bring everything, but I’ll pack all your clothes, and you can send me messages about what you want me to grab.”

A Christmas miracle — we get some of our identity back. “Sounds good,” Brent agreed, fiddling mindlessly with the silicone of his phone case.

“What else are you going to do today?” I asked the receiver, watching Dad kick away at some slushed snow by his feet.

“Gonna go to the hospital, visit the survivors. I have a lot of apologies I gotta give. Margie’s wake starts at five, and I want to be there for Antonio, plus we’re covering funeral costs for all the victims so I’m gonna get together with COLE and hunt down relatives, find out if there’s any next of kin that want things done a certain way.”

Jeez, this conversation suddenly turned bleak. And on top of that, Dad was going to try and crack the domestic terrorists that blew up COLE — was there even enough time in the day to do everything? “But you’ll be back Christmas Eve?” I nearly begged for confirmation.

“Yeah. Promise.”

Next came the goodbyes, promises we’ll check in with him every now and then and a repeated assurance that we’d be together for Christmas. It was such a stupid thing to worry about, but it was the only bit of normalcy I was aching for; our movie marathon full of tales that didn’t really count as Christmas movies if you thought about it, the Christmas Eve taquitos meal tradition that started after Dad nearly burnt down the house trying to make turkey and we had to visit a taco truck. Maybe I could even convince them to bring back Tent City and make a pillow fort out of Ruth’s blankets and the stale bed sheets we found when unpacking. Sure, Brent and I weren’t waiting for the second we could open our presents anymore, but it had to be fun, right?

The time leading up to Christmas Eve felt awkwardly stagnant, kinda like waiting for a doctor appointment planned just after noon; like we couldn’t concentrate too hard on something out of fear that we’d miss our appointment. Like we were waiting for change. I regularly pulled up live news streams to see if Dad would make an appearance just to make sure everything was fine, and when I wasn’t, Brent was browsing the internet to see what everyone was saying. At some point I snuck a peek over his shoulder to see him on Mei’s profile, staring at a post that simply said I just hope you’re safe posted the same day we were ambushed at the mall, and didn’t do much more than squeeze his shoulder when he realized I was looking.

I understood; I found myself on Reese’s profile a few times, thumb immediately jumping to the ‘message’ icon out of reflex before I pulled it back. It was this, the torturous in between, that made the hours pass at a snail's pace, waiting for further instruction. Waiting to see what bits of normalcy we could reclaim.

Dad called regularly, which was a nice reprieve from it all despite how depressing what he was doing was; Margie was cremated, and her funeral was due to be hosted on the second. The young boy, Elliot, got a beautiful burial plot with a headstone in the shape of a t-rex, his favorite dinosaur, all thanks to some charity. He called when in the house to finalize what all he should grab, and only after we hung up did Brent’s face pale as he said, “Oh, fuck, he’s going to pack our clothes,”

“Yeah?” I watched as he laid his head in his hands, confused. Brent already knew this, why was he freaking out? “What’s so bad about that?”

Brent’s hands left his face to rest of the sides of his head as he muttered, “My dab pen is in my bottom drawer,”

“Your—“ I snorted, earning a dirty look from him. “You hid your weed in your underwear drawer? What are you, five?”

“He’s gonna kill me,” Brent said with a resigned finality. “I’m actually going to die.”

“Will me your LEGO collection before you do so I can sell it on eBay,”

Later that day as Brent grappled with his impending death, I stared at the watercolors Betty got me before finally giving in and opening them, turning to the first page of the new sketchbook and staring at it. Watercolor. Watercolor. I could totally do this, right? And if not, I’d just throw it away and act like it never happened.

My inspiration came from those few minutes of peace as I floated in the Puget Sound, staring up at the rippling sunlight refracting off of the water’s surface. I could see the picture almost perfectly in my mind, so much so that when I summoned my water gauntlets, I was able to pull and mix the shades I needed, slowly beginning to layer them on the canvas.

Bleeding art into the page with my powers was something else entirely. Making art felt vulnerable in a soft way, like exposing pieces of myself in flashes; but using water to spread the blue and shade it deeper the further down the page it went, to highlight ripples in the surface of the water and create shining rays of sunlight…it felt sincere. Forthright. Like I was screaming through the canvas here I am, the water Conduit, and I have something I need you to understand! The end product actually looked like what I meant it to this time, no doubt because I had way more control over the display. Kinda hard to fuck up your brush strokes if you’re literally using some form of hydrokinesis on a water based product. Next came the ink, something I added way too early and caused it to bleed a bit, ink blots escaping from the solid black silhouette of what was supposed to be my body and trying to unsuccessfully slip away before sinking into the page. Honestly, though? I liked how it looked. Something about the contrast between the soft watercolor and the harsh ink struck me, even if this picture was technically a failure. I let the page dry and closed the book, vowing to try and do more after the holidays as the clock hit ten at night. I had to get started on Brent’s gift, anyways.

#infamous erosion #infamous second son #infamous #delsin rowe #sucker punch productions #Eugene Sims #fanfiction #infamous oc #infamous 2 #I finally get to mention Cole MacGrath holy fuck #Fetch Walker

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blackbird-brewster · 1 year ago

Note

All the even numers >:)

Bahahaha, alright Anon. I saved this for last.

2. Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it?

(Answered here)

4. Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side?

I'm a side sleeper, mostly facing outwards. But sometimes, I wind up on my back and when I do I snore so loud Doom Them has to wake me up.

6. Do you prefer drawing or writing?

I can't draw for shit. Writing is my creative talent

8. What’s your favourite band/artist?

I have SO many. I listen to a wild range of music. Everything from ska to indie rock to punk to emo to pop. Some of my all-time fave bands include: The Killers, Foreigner, Avett Brothers, Postal Service, Betty Who, Beyonce, Lizzo, Tegan and Sara.

10. How tall are you?

5'6" or 168 cm

12. Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now?

@otahkoapisiakii @bittersweet-bibliophile @the-kazoo-kid @gaelic-symphony @mygenitiveisobjective

14. What’s your favourite colour?

(Answered here)

16. Want any tattoos? What of?

I have around 35 tattoos (hard to count when you have half sleeves and such). I DO want more tattoos, but in the past two years one of my chronic conditions has made it so I'm allergic to my tattoos. They get welts and hives all the time. Which really sucks because uhhhh, my entire body is covered in them 🤷‍♂️

18. Who is the last person you texted?

I sent Frankie some smut as a little treat!

20. What/who do you miss?

I miss all my loves in the US. But in terms of 'what' -- the thing I miss everyday is being able to leave my house without it having to be an entire Event. I miss life before the pandemic where I didn't have to take 100 pre-emptive steps to protect myself every time I go out. I miss 2020 when everyone (in my country) was in this together, when everyone was masking and staying home when they were sick, when everything was accessible by being online. I miss when people cared.

The pandemic isn't over. Some of us have never left lockdown.

22. How much sleep did you get last night?

I actually went to sleep hella early. I was asleep before my daily kudos email (this is how I tell time, okay?) which comes about 00:20. Then, I got up early with Doom Them -- so I think I got about 7 hours? I only need 5-6 to be functional.

24. When was the last time you cried? Why?

Last night I cried from laughing so hard at this picture of our cat

26. What are some seemingly childish things you like?

I don't believe joy has an age limit. I'm a regular at our local toy stores, I know all the staff, I'm always buying new fidget toys and Squishmallows. I got into Squishmallows about the same time I got my Autism dx (mid-2020) and since then, Squish have become a constant form of comfort for us. We currently have about 300 in our collection -- and that's after some major downsizing. There's no way to know how many squish we've rotated through over the years. Here's the last full squad photo we took in Jan 2022 (there's nowhere in our house to do a full pic of the 300 we have currently)

28. How are you, really?

I'm actually doing well this week. Summer weather arrived without warning and my depression is lifting. I feel really inspired for the first time in weeks!

30. What are you looking forward to in the near future?

Finishing Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) - Part 3!!!!!!!!

32. If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?

If I could see my US friends without actually having to go to the US itself, that would be perfect.

34. What’s your favourite flower?

(Answered Here)

36. Do you like your middle name?

Not really. My middle name is the name of some random ski instructor my parents met the year before I was born (I have theories about this, about why my dad randomly remembered this person's name -- but that's a whole other thing. Oh, and also that's one of my middle names, it's complicated. I have like 5 names)

38. Do you have any phobias?

Ornithophobia (fear of birds). Also scared of horses, cows, and airbags.

40. Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy?

YES!! I love living ten minutes from the beach. We go there a lot to relax and scream at the ocean. I prefer sunny weather, hands down, but it's cloudy 90% of the time here.

42. Tag 5 of your favourite blogs

Oh, this is really difficult. I'll just tag some rad mutuals: @knitmeapony @chaotic-archaeologist @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @gaelic-symphony @artcake

44. Who was the last person you said “I love you” to?

I've said 'I love you' to at least five people today and it's only 10am. And I meant every one of those. I'm very much the type of person who loves my partners and friends openly and freely.

46. What do you need when you’re sad?

Cranky Cave(tm)! Cranky cave is when I'm having meltdowns. I go to my room and turn on the fairy lights and galaxy projector. Grab a ton of squish and fidgets. Bury myself in blankets. And watch my comfort shows.

48. Who’s someone you can trust with your life?

Doom Them, Kay, Coyote.

[Send Me Asks]

#anon #reply post #about me 2k23 #ask meme #long post #my photos #My face #Mistopher robin

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paigenoelchas-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Feels Like Home

24: Trees

Jake's POV:

I lay on the couch, her in my arms, practically on top of me. We are so intertwined, I can not tell where she ends and I begin. I would have it no other way. Nothing happened in our early afternoon. We have enjoyed spending time together and flirting, but I am waiting until tonight and the surprise I have set up for us to do anything more.

We have completely lost track of time.

She is asleep, her snoring makes this evident. How I love that snore. It means that she trusts me. It means she is comfortable in my arms. I want a lifetime of these sweet moments, dancing in the rain, sitting by the fire. I want days of eating grilled cheese sandwiches while holding hands and watching her punch monsters in the face. I also want to know her in all of the carnal ways that one does. I need her badly, in the most intimate of ways. That is why, in the warmth of her apartment, with her in my arms, she had fallen asleep and I had forgotten all about the constructs of time as I let my mind wander to her and to our love.

The truth is, I don't want our first time to be a trivial matter, it can't be. I love her too much, our love is too important for me. I have avoided being alone with Mahri for the last couple of weeks until we can make our first time together special. I know if I am with her alone for any length of time that I won't be able to resist her charms. Dan has been helping me with a project and I hope that it will help make the night stay in our memories for many years to come.

"Shoot," Mahri suddenly sits up from the couch that we had been resting on. I suppose she had fallen asleep and I was so deep in thought, I didn't know the time. Quite frankly, time slips by whenever she is in my arms.

"We are late. I just got a text from Jessy." She spurts out frantically.

At that same moment, I get a text from Betty.

Betty: It is freezing out here, and there is no sign of you two. Put some clothes on, climb out of bed, and come join us.

"Oh no," Mahri curses under her breath. Jessy is worried about us. How long have we been asleep?"

It had been two hours. It felt like 20 minutes.

I type a quick response to Betty.

Jake: My clothes are on, thank you very much. We will be there in ten minutes. Find something to warm you up. Besides Phil. Or if that will make you calm down, warm up with Phil.

We quickly hop in the car and drive to Hopper's Christmas Tree Farm, just outside of town. It is small but quaint. A few shops line the outskirts and trucks drive through the mountains dropping off people up the mountain where they can cut their own trees. Families are everywhere. When we get there, we find the four waiting with hot cocoas in hand, holding them out for us. Mahri eagerly grabs hers.

"Thanks for showing up," Dan teases. Jessy smiles. They had been arm in arm when we drove up. I am so excited to see where they end up.

Phil smirks, "I don't even want to know what you two were up to."

Betty interlocks his arm "You know what they were up to. Do you really want the details?"

Phil shakes his head, "Nope, not at all."

Mahri blushes. "I don't know what you all think, but we fell asleep."

"We have all been late before, but not all for innocent reasons." I look directly at Phil and Betty. I am not mad, in fact, I expected the teasing and we did kind of deserve it. I don't want Mahri to be embarrassed anymore. "Should we get on to this tree business?"

Mahri kissed me on the cheek as Dan handed me a saw.

"Yes, let's go," Jessy says, hugging Mahri.

Betty walks up to the ladies, "I am just excited to see those men of ours do some outdoor manly things. They are getting too soft. Besides, it gives my imagination something to work on later tonight." She says it loud enough for all of us to hear. The girls continue to talk and laugh. I love seeing the three of them together. It is the best of both of our worlds. The admiration that they share is heartwarming. I never thought my best friend would have girls that were so close to her. I never thought that she would actually be close to my love.

Dan throws his arm around my shoulder. "Is everything ready for tonight, man?"

"Yes," I respond, "...thanks to you.

"I hope it goes well, but I am not going to ask about the details if you don't mind."

I chuckle. "I wasn't planning on sharing them, so..." I laugh.

Phil walks up to us, "Do you both have gifts for your women yet?"

Dan nods, "Yes and I had it weeks ago, Wait, you don't have yours yet? Dude, you're screwed."

Phil nods, " I know... Jake, I need you're advice, buddy."

"No worries. I have plenty of ideas. We can talk, " I respond and Phil's shoulder raisesand the arrogance returns to his steps.

"Thanks, J. I will owe you one." He gives me a side smile.

"No, you won't, and we never agreed to a nickname..." I smile. The fact that Phil called me J from time to time didn't bother me as much as it should. "That's what friends do." I finish my thought. It is at this moment that I realize that Phil and I have become just that. I am proud of the things we have worked through to be in this place.

The six of us walk into the woods to find the perfect tree. Jessy and Dan find theirs right away, the two are at the point where they have known each other for so long, decisions like these didn't have to be discussed. Once finding the tree, they had to go. I was sad to see them leave. Jessy is wonderful. She and Dan have become true friends. They left to have dinner with my sisters. I have to rectify that situation soon, but I have other monsters that I have to battle first.

I watch them go, knowing that it was our tardiness that made little time for them to be here with us. I wanted to feel bad, but I was with Mahri, so I had no remorse. I would always choose to be with her in my arms.

Then I turn to look at the two other women that make up my world. I sigh. They are wonderful, but this tree sorting out business is not going to be quick or easy. Betty and Mahri are more selective when it comes to picking out trees.

I have the hardest job. The cabin's ceiling is tall, 10 feet or so. That means dragging out the tallest tree after waiting for Mahri to pick out the world's most perfect cedar or pine or spruce. I don't care what the tree is or how heavy it may be, I will do anything to make this happen for her. I want the cabin to be warm and inviting, I want her to feel at home there. If it is anything I can do to make her happy, I will do it. Besides, if I get to prove that I can be "manly" as Betty calls it, then even better. I am hoping to cash in on that image soon.

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

Mahri's POV:

Jessy and Dan had actually picked out their tree fairly quickly. It is s a shame. I miss their presence, but Betty and Phil were still debating on a tree. It is great to see how the two of them work together. The tree is for the bar. Phil wants a "sensible" tree. Betty thinks a tree should make a statement. He can care less about any of it, thinking the tree is unnecessary and can create a fire hazard, but it makes her happy so he is invested. They argue, but really, they are flirting, unashamed.

He cares for her when no one was watching, always making sure that her hair is out of her eyes and that her glass is always full. Her needs are met before she is aware of them. In her own right, Betty makes sure that she is always challenging him and helping him be a better person. She always tells him the truths that he needed to hear, though she does that last part for all of us if I am being honest.

I watch them from afar, pretending to make a decision on a tree. He is showing off. Betty has picked out a tree. It is a stunner Douglass Fir, perfect from all angles. Phil wore his tightest shirt today and using that saw shows off his muscles. I can practically see Betty drooling. Phil knows exactly what he is doing, flexing his muscles and turning at just the right angle to accentuate all of his strengths. He is such a flirt and she soaks it all in. They love to drive each other crazy.

I can't help but chuckle. Moving through the lot, Jake's hand in mine, I walk up behind my friends. "Betty," I whisper in her ear, "you might want to harbor some of those feelings until you get home. You are behaving like a schoolgirl."

"He is gorgeous," she responds, "... and I don't care who knows that I think so. I want them to know that he is mine."

Jake snorts out loud and Betty glares at him, then winks and says, "Don't pretend you haven't been staring at Mahri's ass all day and dreaming about what you are going to do to her when the doors are shut."

This time, I chuckled and Jake blushed, pulling his hands to his forehead to adjust his beanie lower on his head. He shoots her a dirty look and flips her off. Her smile beams. She is proud of herself for getting to him.

"It's ok, Baby," I lean in and whisper huskily in his ear, "I have had those thoughts running through my head all day as well and I haven't even watched you cut down our tree yet." He reaches down and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers.

I smile at the thought of our tree, at our cabin, of our life together.

"Speaking of that, Mahri, have you found a tree that you like? Anything even close?" Jake asks as he wraps his arm around me from behind.

s he asks the question, I look up and stop at a tree that I can imagine staring at for the next couple of weeks. It is a spruce, with thick branches, narrowly opening at the bottom. I imagine us opening presents, sharing time together, and basking in the twinkling lights.

"This is the one," I say and I watch him cut the tree down. His muscles flex and twist. He is not wearing his tightest shirt, thankfully. I may be able to hold on to some of my dignity. He is the most... "I need a little help here." He states as the tree is now laying in the snow. He picks up the heavy end as I pick up the light one. I think about how right Betty is. There is not a more attractive sight in the world than Jake at this moment. His arms are tight in his shirt and I can see his back muscles flexing and releasing even through the flannel. I can't take my eyes off him. I still can't fathom how a hacker could have such an incredible body and sweet spirit in addition to his amazing mind.

I can't wait until we get home so I can show him all of my appreciation. After we decorate the tree of course. It won't get done if we don't do it first. I have to remember that.

We all pay and load up the trucks, giving hugs and saying goodbye. We agree to have a game night later in the week with Jeesy and Dan, of course. I shake my head when I think of how domestic we have all become. I hope we can always share this much happiness. I love these moments. I never thought I would have them.

As he opens the door, I watch him walk around the front thinking about the change my life has taken in the last month. I wouldn't change a thing. I love being with this handsome, kind man who makes me feel like a prize, all I want is to live life with him and make him feel the same kind of thankfulness.

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

Jake's POV

The second that I am in the car, she climbs in my lap. It could have never been done in my sports car. Today, I had to borrow Thomas' truck to bring the tree home. Now I was seeing the advantage of such a vehicle.

She wraps her legs over mine and engages my mouth with hers. She is groping and grabbing, filling me with longing. I return the groping and grabbing, kissing her with all of the passion that I can muster. My hands are under her shirt, playing with the lace of her bra, hers are under mine too, running her hand along the waistband of my pants.

I am not going to be able to control myself much longer. I want desperately to continue this, but I have to remember my promise to make this moment between us special. I put my hand on her hips and begin to slow the speed of the kisses, though I am reluctant to do so.

"Baby," I say, trying to calm her down. She doesn't slow down. I can't stop kissing her, almost picking back up the pace, but then I remember I have plans and they are not to have this happen in the front seat of a borrowed truck in the sight of families walking by.

"Baby," My voice is regaining its strength, "Love...let's not do this here. You are far too precious for me to take you here, in a borrowed truck. It is more comfortable at home and we have our tree to decorate... "

She stops the kiss reluctantly. She is out of breath. I don't let go of her right away and she stays on my lap and lays her head against mine. "I am sorry, " She begins.

"Never be sorry for that," I say, placing my hand under her chin, and making her look into my eyes. "Never," I smile. "I don't want this first moment between us to be this way." I kiss her forehead and each of her cheeks.

Her expression is sweet and loving, with a little lust left in her eyes. "I just saw you doing all of the manly work and thinking about how gorgeous you are and how lovely you are and how we are going to our cabin to decorate our tree and I couldn't resist. I thought about a life of these shared moments."

I tap her hip signaling her to get off. I know my body will miss hers the second she moves. A smile makes its way across my face. "I love that you call it our cabin and our tree and that you think about a life that we share."

"Is it not our cabin, our tree?"

It absolutely is ours. You just don't usually refer to it that way, I love that "our" life isn't as scary to you as it once was."

She climbs off, slowly brushing her lips against mine as she moves past. I will make her pay for that later.

"I have decided that I am not afraid anymore. I love you and I want to be with you. Nothing will change that. What is there left to be afraid of?" She states matter of factly. There is no debate in her voice. I believe every word that she says.

She scoots next to me in the middle of the truck. This is another reason that I now see the need for this type of vehicle. Her hand rests on my thigh, her head on my shoulder. "Mahri, I love you so much and tonight I plan on showing you how much. I want you to remember this night for a very long time.

She smiles and sighs. "Let's go to our cabin and I can show you how much I love you. I guarantee that you will remember tonight for a very long time."

"We have to get the tree...." she interrupts me by kissing my hand. She takes my fingers and begins sucking. The truck swerves a bit.

"You are going to get us killed, woman." I say.

She looks proud of herself. "Come to think of it, I think the tree can wait until tomorrow," She starts, "I am not sure that I can. How fast can this thing get us home?"

I look at her and see the future as I step heavier on the gas pedal. I can't stop smiling.

#duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake #jake donfort #iamjake #duskwood mc x jake #mc #jake x mc #mc x jake #mc duskwood #duskwood mc #everbyte fanfiction #duskwood everbyte

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nightmaremp · 7 months ago

Text

Weremayhem: Song of Beasts. Ch 36: Virtual Insanity

That night, Nora was lying in the pile of pillows. She was watching a video on her phone. It was her singing happy birthday to JJ, when they were dating. He had some glasses on in the video. Nora was holding a cupcake with white frosting and a light candle in front of him. The black haired female smiled as she watched the video.

JJ blows out the candle and looks at Nora, she has bangs that cover her forehead. “Why? I told you I hate birthdays” he said to her.

“But do you hate cupcakes?” Nora asked him with a smirk on her face.

“Because I got your favorite. Come on, give her a sniff” she added. When JJ leads to give a sniff, she faced him with the cupcakes. The black haired female laughs with joy. He had the frosting on his nose.

“You look so cute, Smooshie,” she said as she placed a hand on his cheek.

“Smooshie?” he asked. “I’ll show you Smooshie,” JJ said as he faced her with the same cupcake. It hit her left cheek as she laughed.

Suddenly, Janice who was sleeping next to Label Lady sat up. “Smooshie?” she asked. Nora quickly turns her phone off and turn to the blonde female.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were awake. Kind of hard to tell” replied the black haired female.

“Like, wow, I didn’t know that you and JJ used to be, like, lovey-dovey picnic pals” replied Janice.

“Yup” replied Nora. “And now, JJ wants to pick up right where we left off” she added.

“And, like, that’s a bad thing?” the blonde female asked.

“No,” replied Label Lady. “JJ is everything I wanted.” she added.

“Literally” the black haired female said.

“I broke up with him because he wasn’t serious or driven or showered,” she added with a sad sigh.

“Now, he’s all of those things, but…” Nora started to say.

“He’s no Moog” replied Janice. The black haired female chuckles.

“Okay, Janice. Normally, you’re cosmically in tune with me, but this time, you’re way off” she replied to the blonde female.

“Am I, though?” Janice asked her.

“From what my third eye sees, It’s Moog who makes you smile more” she added.

“So?” replied Label Lady.

“Have I ever told you the story of the free-spirited lass whose heart was, like, totally torn between two very different suitors?” asked the blonde female.

“No, but, I..” before Nora could finish her sentence, Janice cuts her off.

“One was a flashy, driven businessman, who was, like, pure ambition” the blonde female said.

“And the other, was, like, a scruffy, aimless guitar player, who just, like, made her smile.” she added.

“Okay, Janice. Clearly, the guitarist was Floyd and you’re the girl” replied Label Lady.

“No. Her name was Betty” replied Janice.

“And while she was busy being all wishy-washy, I swooped in and stole Floyd’s heart” she added.

“Okay, and what happened to Betty?” replied the black haired female.

“The last I heard, she’s now a lonely old bag lady, who lives under a bridge in Paramus” replied the blonde female. She yawns.

“Nighty-night” Jancie said before going to sleep. She starts to snore. Nora lays there thinking.

Meanwhile, Hannah was walking down a hallway in a hotel that Xavier was staying in. She knocks on the door of the room that the little brother was staying in. “Excuse me?” the black haired female said after she knocked on the door.

The door opens, Xavier is in a dark blue pair of PJs. His ginger hair was down, his hair went down to his shoulders. “Yes?” he asked in a tired tone of voice.

“May I come in?” Hannah asked in a bit of a nervous tone.

“Sure” the little brother replied as he let her in. “What do you need, miss?” he asked.

“Oh! I’m Hannah, remember me from the Shack?” she replied.

“Yes, nice to meet you” replied Xavier with a smile.

“The reason I’m here is…What happened between you and your brother, Dr. Teeth?” she asked. The ginger haired male went silent for a bit before taking a deep breath.

“You know how he left with that Floyd Pepper and took the bus our parents had?” he asked.

“Yes?” replied Hannah.

“Well, after they left, I felt like my older brother…abandoned me. He left me, left flora, left mama and daddy…He left the family in the dirt to be some…stupid rockstar!” said Xavier with harshness in his voice.

“Do you think he wanted to abandon you?” she asked.

“I…No, but he made me feel like he did.” the ginger haired male replied.

“Listen, I know that siblings don’t get along. Trust me, I know.” Hannah replied with a sigh.

“What should I do? He probably hates me.” replied Xavier.

“Maybe try sitting down with him and talk things out. I’m sure that he will be happy if you did that” replied the black haired female.

“I guess….You’re right” he replied. “Thank you, Hannah” the ginger haired male added with a smile.

In the morning, the Mayhem arrived at Digicorp Interactive for their concert. The band was wearing all black with some white pinballs all over them. Dr. Teeth was drinking mai-tai. He finished the drink. “I gotta use the toilet” said the doc.

“Oh, yeah. Cause you drank for coconuts” said the man that was standing next to the ginger haired male. The guy takes the coconut from the good doctor’s hand. “Why are these even here?” he asked.

“Snow cone” said Animal as he held one of the pinballs in his hand. The drummer ate the small white plastic ball.

“Sir, please stop eating the equipment” said the man to the wild man.

“And get in position. That’s behind the drums” he added.

“Okay, any movement you make in your motion capture suits will be mirrored in the game” the guy said.

“Let’s do this, people! Positions, everyone!” he added as Minecraft loads on the screen in the room. Teeth and Animal look at each other, the doc chuckles.

“Here we go!” the man said as he heads into the window room across from the band.

“You know the drill,” said Nora. “You open strong with Can You Picture That?” she added.

“Ooh. I can picture that boring the virtual pants off our crowd” replied JJ.

“What? It’s their biggest hit” replied Moog.

“Yeah!” added Lewis. The ginger haired boy had a scowl on his face.

“And it’s also their oldest. Look, the band is here to discover a new audience” replied Nora’s ex.

“So, they should open up with a song from their new album,” he added.

“Oh, hey, songs through 12 are my favorites,” said Floyd with a chuckle.

“Indeed, but our final track is a guaranteed-ified mind exploder” replied Dr. Teeth.

“Ooh, what about the “We Are One” one?” asked Janice. “Oh, wow. Let’s do it” she added.

“We’re still figuring it all our, right?” replied Moog.

“You know, you can't just go and play it live” he added.

“Uh, you of all Moogs, should know that we are deeply adept at the avian art of winging it.” replied the good doctor.

“Dad, I think Moog is right,” replied Lewis.

“Now, Lewis. Don’t get into this. This is band business.” replied his father.

“We’re about to go live” said the man as he watched the screens.

“No winging it. Moog is right. Let’s just do the hit everyone knows” said Label Lady.

“As you wish, Label Lady” replied Teeth. “Plug us in,” he added.

“Five, four, three, two, one” said the guy as the game finally loads.

The Announcer on the screen starts to speak. “Miners, creepers, zombies. And Steve” it said.

“Put your blocky hands together to welcome The Electric Mayhem!” said the guy who was the announcer.

The crowds cheer as the avatars of the mayhem slowly rise on stage. “Mayhem! Mayhem! Mayhem!” the crowd cheers.

“Far out, man,” said Floyd.

“Oh, wow” said Janice.

“Well, all right,” said Dr. Teeth. “Thank you, Minecraft youths and fellow foragers,” he added.

“We’re here to rock your blocks off with an oldie, but goodie” the doc said with a smile.

Suddenly a block of TNT was flying through the air. “Two, three, four…” the good doctor started to say before the TNT hit Floyd pepper. It causes damage to his avatar.

“Whoa! Hey. That would’ve hurt if that was real” the red haired male said. Nora and JJ look confused and a little worried.

“Wow, like, I’m totally sensing a blanket of digital darkness descending upon us” said the blonde female.

The Minecraft world’s sky turns grayish black as “O Fortuna” by Andre Rieu starts to play. Thunder rumbles.

“Uh, dude…” Lips started to say as he slowly pointed. “I think we’re all gonna die!” said the blonde male in a scare and panic tone.

“Fall in, Swifties. Let’s knock their blocks off” said the leader as her group ride on horses with TNT in their hands.

“What’s happening?” asked Nora in a panic tone.

“It’s the superfans,” replied Moog with wide eyes. “It’s all of them,” he added. Lewis looks worried. It was the ones that attacked the van, the ones Zoot was talking about.

“The Beliebers, the BeyHive, Gaga’s Little Monsters.” the black haired male said as each group arrived.

“Little Monsters, prepare to attack” said the leader of Gaga's Little Monsters.

“That’s not all,” said Moog with horror in his voice. “BTS ARMY, the…Rihanna’s Navy” he added.

“Even the Natalie Merchant Marines” said the guy, the speaker who was next to the mayhem fan.

“Okay, now I’m worried,” said Floyd. “They look mad and angry,” he added with a hint of fear in his voice. Bees were in the air, buzzing with anger.

“Like, the good news is, we’ve brought so many different fans together.” replied Janice.

The groups start to throw TNT blocks at the mayhem. “Yeah, in their hatred of us” replied Floyd Pepper as he and the blonde female both duck to not get hit by the TNT.

Animal ate one of the blocks of TNT. “Yummy” said the drummer with a smile on his face. The wild man kept catching the blocks and eating them.

One of the TNT hits Lips which causes him to fall to the ground both in Minecraft and real life. He yelps as he falls. Some of the pinballs fell off of him.

“Oh, my God!” yelled Moog.

“Lips!” yelled Nora in horror.

In Minecraft, Lips’ avatar got killed by TaylorSwiftFan7849. Some things were dropped by the trumpet player. A diamond block, a trumpet, a gold apple, a pick ax, and a phone. “What happened?” asked Lips with a grunt.

“They’re actually getting hurt right now, so maybe we could pull the plug” said the black haired male.

“I agree,” replied Lewis with a whimper. He was worried for his dad, papa, and daddy.

“Don’t pull the plug” replied JJ with a harsh tone.

“Moog is right. Pull the plug.” said Label Lady.

“What plug? That’s not how it works” replied the guy.

Explosions can be heard bursting. “Nora, please” said her ex.

“You gotta trust me. Can you just trust me on this?” he asked. Moog looks at the two, he is worried for the band’s safety. Lewis looks at the two, tears are trying to fall but he won’t let them.

“Okay” Nora replied with gritted teeth.

“Okay, okay, um…” replied Jj as he started to think. The male puts on the headphones with a microphones.

“Attention, Electric Mayhem. There’s been a change to the set list” said JJ. “You know what to do” he added.

“Uh…We really don’t” replied Floyd Pepper. “What do we do?” the red haired male asked with a bit of a whine like a puppy.

The black haired female grabbed JJ’s headphone’s microphone. “Wing it” she said into the microphone.

“For sure,” replied Janice with a smile. The blonde female starts to play her guitar. A wave of rainbows floods the dark land. It brought back the colors in the game. “We Are One” starts to play.

Waves of rainbows keep going as the band plays. The crowd cheers, even the superfans. As the bands sing and the waves of joy pass by each superfan, their clothes change to joyful colors.

Nora, JJ, Moog, Lewis, and the guy as smiles as they watch and listen. “Looks like we just got our final song” said the mayhem fan with a smile on his face.

“Yup and it just united all the fans with the whole world watching” replied Nora with a smile on her face.

“I just wanna hug you” said the guy as he hugs the mayhem fan with a smile on his face.

“I’d say this calls for a celebration” said JJ with a smile on his face.

“Shall we get Lips to call Diddy, maybe he could throw him a white party?” he added.

“Actually, I was thinking something a little more colorful, you know?” replied the black haired female.

“Something more Mayhem,” she added.

Later, there was a huge party at the Shack. Everyone was partying with joy. The party have this hippie kind of vibe to it. “Higher” said Animal. “Lower!” he said.

“Higher” the drummer said again as Hannah used the back scratcher on the wild man’s back.

“Oh, yeah,” Animal said with a smile on his face.

“Okay, switch” said the black haired female as she turned.

“Okay” replied the wild man as he started to scratch her back with his hands.

“Once Hanimal trends worldwide, we can start wearing comfier clothes' ' said Hannah.

“Yeah” replied Animal.

Teeth and Lips were next to each other, on their phones. Zoot was on the couch with his phone. Floyd was standing with his phone. “Hello” said Label Lady.

“I finally throw you a classic Mayhem Kickback, and you spend it all on your phones?” she added.

“Only cause this internet age is the biggest shindig of all time” replied the doc.

“All time” said the trumpet player.

“Says here, our virtual concert has been viewed two badrillion times,” said Floyd Pepper.

“Look, not quite, but it’s up there” replied Nora.

“Hey, I forgot to mention,” the good doctor said.

“I’ve started my own channel where I get to try hot stuff with my hot stuff,” he added.

“Ha-ha! That would be me” laugh Penny with a smile. She was holding a plate of hot wings and on the other hand had a bottle of hot sauce.

“She’s a spicy one, indeed” replied the ginger haired male.

“You call this a spicy Trinidadian Scorpion pepper?” replied Mrs. Waxman. “I felt nothing” she added.

“Wow. It’s burning my eyes” replied the black haired female. Dr. Teeth chuckles.

“Hey, Zoot” said Teeth to the dark blue haired male.

“Huh?” replied the saxophonist.

“Grab your phone and come digitally photify my fiery fiesta.” replied the doc.

“Can’t. Cloud’s busted” replied Zoot.

Suddenly Janice runs into a table due to walking with her eyes attached only to her phone’s screen. “Ooh! Janice, are you okay?” asked Nora in a worried tone of voice.

“Never better. Oh! Look! I have so many new follower friends” replied the blonde female.

“And they’re sending me little pictures of prayer hands,” she added.

“And hearts and rainbows and cupcakes,” said Janice as she walked away.

“Let’s send them back tiny pictures of our favorite snacks,” said Floyd. Dr. Teeth quickly nod.

“Apples and donuts and bananas” Floyd Pepper started to list off.

“Oh!” said Lips as he started to type.

“And tacos and hot dogs and…Hmm?” said the red haired male.

“Don’t send those!” replied Label Lady.

Suddenly there was a knock at the front door, Hannah opens the door and sees it is Xavier. “Is this a bad time?” he asked.

“No, come in” replied the black haired female with a smile as she let him in.

“Thank you,” the ginger haired male replied. He walks through the party, trying to find his older brother. Xavier found Teeth with his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. The little brother walked up to his brother and tapped the doc on the shoulder.

“Hm?” Teeth was confused and wondered who it was. He turns and realizes it is his little brother. A scowl appeared on his face. “What do you want?” he asked in a harsh tone.

“I…I need to talk to you in private.” replied Xavier with a soft tone which caught Dr. Teeth off guard. The two brothers head out to the backyard and found a quiet spot.

“Alright, what is it you need to speak to me about?” asked the good doctor. He had put his phone up in his pockets. The little brother took a deep breath.

“You remember how you left with Floyd to be a rockstar?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Dr. Teeth.

“That day, when I got home from school, I found out that you have left. Mama was yelling and just angry but also sad. Daddy tries to calm her down but no success. Flora was upset and wondered why you left. I, on the other hand, was angry at you. I felt like you abandoned our family, Flora, mama and Daddy, mostly…I felt like you abandoned me.” said Xavier with tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

“I…I should’ve just asked you why you left. I shouldn’t have acted like a…asshole to you for no reason.” he added.

“Xavier,” Teeth said in a soft tone.

“I don’t blame you for feeling that. I’m sorry that I left without telling at least you and Flora. I knew I couldn’t tell mama and daddy about me leaving.” he added as he held his little brother’s hand.

“How about we put this behind us and start new?” the doc asked.

“I would love that” replied Xavier as he hug his little brother with tears in his eyes. “I miss you , big brother” he added with a soft smile on his face.

“I miss you too, little brother” replied Dr. Teeth with a smile as they hug.

Hannah notices them through a window and smiles. “Look like they fix their relationship” she thought to herself. The black haired female felt happy and proud of herself because she helped someone.

Meanwhile, Moog was down in the basement. He was in the recording room with headphones on. Nora walks into the recording room.

“Wow. The band stuck on their phones during their party is bad enough, but you’re down here working?” she said.

“Actually, um, I just finished,” he replied with a smile.

“Wait, seriously?’ Label Lady asked in shock.

“Yeah” Moog replied with a chuckle. “That virtual concert gave us our last song,” he added.

“The Electric Mayhem officially has their first album” said the black haired male. Nora chuckles with a smile of joy on her face.

“And that smile made it all worth it” said Moog. The black haired female blushes a little bit.

Suddenly, her phone starts to chime. Nora’s eyes got wide. “No way!” she said with shock in her voice.

Back upstairs, JJ noticed Janice walking into a wall. He stops her and turns the blonde female away from the wall. He let out a nervous chuckle. “There you go,” the ex said with a smile on his face.

Nora comes up behind JJ and hugs him. “We did it” said the black haired female with a smile on her face.

“Did what?” he asked.

“The Hollywood Bowl just called,” she replied.

“They saw the virtual concert and offered the band the real deal!” Label Lady added.

“Power couple, am I right?” replied JJ with a huge smile on his face.

“You’re right,” replied Nora. “You know what? I’ll do it” she added.

“I will move in. It just…It makes sense” the black haired female said. JJ exclaims with joy.

“She’s moving in!” he said with a huge smile on his face. Moog was watching from afar. He felt his heart being broken. The black haired male huffs.

“Hey Moog,” said Lewis who appeared out of nowhere. The ginger haired boy was wearing his Pjs which are a blue shirt with a sheep with some dark blue pants.

“Oh! Hey, what are you doing?” Moog asked.

“I couldn’t sleep,” replied Lewis.

“Oh” replied the mayhem fan.

“So, Nora and that snake are together?” the little boy asked.

The black haired male was silent for a bit. “I guess,” he replied with a sigh. Lewis noticed Moog’s sadness. He hugs him.

“It’s okay,” said the ginger haired boy. Moog looked a bit shock but accept the hug from Lewis.

Meanwhile, Zoot was sitting on the couch when millions of photos fell out of nowhere. “There they are” said the dark blue haired male.

#the muppets #dr teeth and the electric mayhem #weremayhemau #dr teeth #lips muppet #muppet mayhem #animal muppet #janice muppets #zoot muppet #floyd pepper #lewis teeth #annie teeth #Xavier Teeth #JJ muppet mayhem #nora singh #moog muppet mayhem #hannah muppet mayhem

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livelle · 3 years ago

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MY FAVORITE BOY’S 18TH BIRTHDAY!!

a/n: hey guys! Back with another fic, still sorry I’m very inactive, school hit me like a bus lately, but I’m getting the hang of it. Still trying to combinatie it with writing and other hobbies!! Thanks for all still being here, you have no idea how much I appreciate y’all. Love you man. :) now! Take this fluffy Tommy fic for his (late) birthday!!!

summary: you and Tommy are best friends, but you kind of got into a fight since you also had plans on his birthday and couldn’t come. He was upset, since you two planned something. You, however, surprise him. Another surprise comes later in the evening :)

FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE??

no pronouns used, Tommy calls you ‘king’ but doesn’t he call everyone that..

fluff, but as I said there’s mentions of like not speaking because you guys got into a fight. don’t think there are any other warnings besides mentions of that, swearing a bit and kissing!!

The phone rang once, then twice, until he heard the voice of his best friend come through. ‘Hello?’

Tommy called you on the 8th of April, at 9 pm in the evening. He was just trying to make sure you would remember the plans for tomorrow on his special day, his birthday. ‘Hey king, you still in for tomorrow?’ he asked, plopping down onto his bed. He laid his head on a pillow, smiling. He most likely expected an answer like ‘of course!‘ or ‘yeah, no doubt!’ or maybe even ‘can’t wait!’.. though he got something very different. ‘Shoot! I totally forgot to tell you that something came up’ you spoke casually, making his smile drop. Something stirred inside of him, since every single one of his friends were leaving to go do something else, and now even you; his long time crush and best friend, was too busy to be with him on the most special day of his life. ‘Something came up? What do you mean? Y/n, I’m turning eighteen tomorrow.’ he said rather venomous. ‘Yeah, sorry Tom, I have to be somewhere’ you answered. He got even more mad at the fact that you sounded so unfazed, so casual about the fact that you just canceled on his birthday last moment, and that you knew damn well that he would be alone the entire day. ‘You don’t even care.’ he spat. ‘Go do your things. I’m gonna be alone in my room the entire day if you think about stopping by. But, you’re too busy I suppose. Good luck.’ he clicked the red button on his phone to end the call, and let out a deep sigh, a distraught expression on his face. He’d never felt this lonely before. That kind of hurt.

You felt bad for making him sad, you really did. But still, you were the one grinning when he ended the call. No, you weren’t a bad friend, because it would all count for the big surprise. The plan was to barge into his house at 6 in the morning, surprise him with doing fun things together all day, and at the end of the day Wilbur would come back from Sneeg’s wedding as quick as possible with Phil, Ranboo, Kristen and other friends, and Tubbo, Freddie and Eryn would come over as well. You would throw a big party for him, not caring about getting any noise complaints, because it was his special day.

Tommy didn’t really care about staying up until twelve to celebrate his real birthday, since he would be alone. And he would be the entire day, well, he thought he would. So he went to bed early to forget about the things he felt for a while.

The sound of keys rustling were heard in the hallway of Tommy’s apartment complex, and softly, you tried to open the door. A creak was heard, a loud one, and you stopped in your tracks. But the only sound in the room was a soft snoring, coming from the bed. You let out a breath you were holding in relief. It was 6 AM, this boy would never be up at that hour anyway. Your plan had been working so far.

You, however, weren’t alone. You were accompanied by Betty and Walter, Tommy’s beloved dogs he loved a lot. You prayed they wouldn’t make a sound, and luckily, they didn’t. They walked in his apartment silently, almost like they understood the assignment. You grabbed the cake that you made last night, and the flowers you bought, because yes, Tommy likes flowers around his room. You were all in place, as you stood in front of him. You let the dogs walk up to him. They jumped happily, now that they saw him as well, and they started licking his face, which obviously made him wake up. His eyes opened slightly, and in instinct, he grabbed the dogs and hugged them. ‘Hello,’ he hummed. But the funniest thing was that he then realized that he didn’t have dogs in his apartment, and that Betty and Walter were supposed to be at home, with mum and dad. He then noticed you.

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!’ You yelled out, putting the cake forward to see for him. ‘Y/N?? WHAT THE—‘ his confused expression was priceless. ‘YOU’RE EIGHTEEN TOM, YOU’RE EIGHTEEN!!’

The dogs had settled on his bed next to him, like they were his children, and he sat up, reading what the cake said. ‘Happy birthday to my best ( adult ) friend!’ he read aloud. And to your surprise, he went all silent. You quickly settled next to him on the bed. ‘Are you okay? What’s wrong?’ you tried, but he hugged you tightly. ‘TOM I CAN’T BREATHE’ You yelled , laughing at how tightly he held you, and he smiled. ‘Thank you so much, you’re the absolute best. What a surprise.’ you smiled at his words. ‘Yes, enough of the sentimental stuff. We have a whole day in front of us with fun things, mr. Simons, so, do you want a slice of cake or not???!’ You giggled. He nodded happily.

As soon as you ate your piece of cake, he got properly dressed, and you locked the apartment behind you, you took the two dogs out for a walk. The day was sunny and bright, just like Tommy. You laughed all of the things that were said on the phone last night off and walked around Brighton with a big smile on both of your faces. As soon as the dogs were tired, the next surprise was coming up. ‘Why are we walking this way? we are supposed to go right here.’ He nudged you. ‘Nope’ you only said with a big smile on your face. He raised a brow, but suddenly a shocked look came over him as he recognized his mother and father in the crowd of people before him. ‘Happy eighteenth, my lad’ his mother came in with a big hug.

As soon as you talked to them and walked around a bit they explained they really had to go now, as they took Betty and Walter back home. Tommy was looking at you like you were the one carrying his world, which you found rather adorable. He again, pressed you in a tight hug, showing his affection and thankfulness for you.

The rest of the day was filled with arcade rides, shopping and ice cream. As much as he wanted to pay for things, you pushed him away and paid for it. ‘We’re basically on a date right now, please let me pay.’ He tried to fluster you. ‘ON A DATE? and, no. No paying for the birthday boy’ you had answered.

But when it was time for dinner, he took your hand and dragged you to your favorite Italian restaurant on the edge of the beach. You ate pasta, while he ate a pizza he finished within 7 minutes. You had the most fun ever, and he now paid, making him happy. You grinned at his face.

When you guys came to his apartment, he plopped onto the bed, holding your hand. He dragged you next to him, and you just looked at the ceiling for a while, panting from the running competition you just did. He squeezed your hand. ‘Thank you so much’ he breathed out. You looked up to him. ‘I had lots of fun. But this isn’t everything.’ You said. He started laughing. ‘WHAaaAaA- why are you laughing????’ You started grinning. ‘Becaaauusee,’ he said, poking you. ‘Because there’s always more. Its shocking me everytime.’ He spoke. You hummed. Your faces were inches apart, and you could see something sparkle in his eyes. His hand came up to brush a lock of hair out your face, and it lingered to brush his fingers against your cheek.

Just as he was about to lean in to connect your lips, a loud bang was heard. There he was, Wilbur, his best friend, barging in, accompanied with the rest of his friends. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!‘ they all yelled, and filled the room with balloons, drinks, and laughs. ‘NO FREAKING WAY. NO WAY’ Tommy shined, smiling as hard as you’ve ever seen him smile. And it was all because of what you put together.

It really was a big party, Wilbur was making jokes while Ranboo laughed, and Tubbo, Eryn and Freddy were ordering some food. Phil was on the music and Tommy was talking to Kristen. You enjoyed every bit of the moment. ‘I can’t believe this,’ you heard someone whisper in your ear. ‘What?’ You answered. ‘I can’t believe you did all this for me. This is the best day ever,’ Tommy said, and he took your hand. ‘Dance with me.’ ‘What about the noise???‘ You asked. ‘Got that covered’ he spoke. ‘Probably’

And when the time was right, and he leaned in again, you kissed him back.

‘That was the best birthday present though’ he spoke up. You giggled and kissed him again, but really, it was the best present for you as well.

a/n: hey guys!! Hope you like this and it wasn’t all too messy! I missed the Tommy birthday stream😭 I heard it was so messy though but GOOD NEWS!!!!!!!!!

I BOUGHT TOMMY MERCH MAN!!! i got the blue shirt which is seen on top of this post in the picture as well!! Now let’s wait for July for it to come in :) how are y’all? Have a nice day/ night?

@milofroglover @buggaboosbeehive @oolovebunnyoo @kiss-me-more-whore @woahitsjj @soren-mai @itoku @marsmarsss @ohlovejoy

#tommyinnit #dsmp #dreamsmp #cricket crew #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit romantic #tommyinnit 18 #tommy day #tommyinnit birthday

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theforgottenmcrmy · 3 years ago

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After All (Part 17/?)

Pairing: Riff X OC Jet Girl

Warnings: Explicit Language, Racism, Suggestions/Non-Explicit Descriptions of Violence, Mild Angst, Non-Explicit Sexual References

Summary: Though it made sense, the realization was shocking. Maybe their time apart hadn’t erased what she felt for him after all.

Word Count: 15,900 ish. I give up.

DISCLAIMER

Please note that this is a reimagining of the film West Side Story (2021) and as a result is slightly AU.

Masterlist /// Part 1 /// Part 16 /// Part 17 /// Part 18

A/N: I know I said we’d get back to regular programming but I just started writing and this chapter got away from me. Today’s my birthday, and I’m so happy that this particular chapter is the one being posted today, for the reasons you’ll see. I’ll admit this was pretty much a self-service chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

First, I start a new job tomorrow (if you feel so inclined, any good vibes sent my way would be much appreciated 😅), but I wanted to let you know that I’m still planning to write and post one chapter a week for the time being. This next one may be a bit delayed, but I will let you know.

Second, I’m now open to requests for oneshots and headcanons, and more info about that can be found on this post.

As always, thank you again for your support.💙 I hope you guys have a great rest of the week!

Part 17: A Choice

Waking up the next morning was just like waking up on any other.

Well, except the additional body in Roxie’s small bed.

She stirred lightly, but something in the back of her mind chided her about trying not to disturb Riff, who was laying beside her. As Roxie opened her eyes slowly, she realized that that task would be easier said than done. She was tucked into Riff’s side, which was a necessity, given the size of the bed. But she wasn’t going to complain. Apparently, she’d been using his chest as a makeshift pillow. His arm was around her shoulders, keeping her close.

The two had been exhausted from the events of the night before. They made it up to Roxie’s apartment on the sixth floor in record speed, even skipping a step every now and then. When they had reached the door, Roxie unlocked it, snuck her head inside, and confirmed that Betty’s door was shut tight and she had already turned in for the night. She encouraged Riff to come inside a moment later and the two made a beeline for her bedroom. Once they’d reached it, she closed the door behind them, set her purse on the nightstand, and they quickly took off a few various articles of clothing in order to get comfortable. After that, they’d promptly plopped on the bed, not bothering to mess with any of the sheets. That was fine- being tucked into Riff’s side was probably warmer than being covered with the sheets, anyway.

After that, Roxie laid awake for perhaps an hour or so, just thinking about everything that had happened. Riff probably had too. But it was clear that they must’ve fallen asleep at some point.

Roxie heard Riff’s light snores and as she looked up at his face, she confirmed he was still dead to the world. It had been a long time since she’d woken up beside him.

Too long.

Roxie smiled softly and scooted closer to him. Once she was settled, she began to take in the sight of him.

Dark circles were painted underneath his eyes, but that wasn’t very surprising. How much sleep could he have gotten with three of the Jets crashing in his living room for the past few months?

Her eyes fell from his face and down to his arms. Riff had taken off his button up shirt before climbing into her bed the night before, which left him in an undershirt and his jeans. From her position, only one of his arms was exposed to her. She took in the sight of it anyways, curiously checking to see if any additional ink adorned it.

The first one she noticed was the pinup tattoo on the inside of his right forearm. It had been the second tattoo Riff had ever gotten, with the first one being his Jets tattoo. Roxie had actually been present when Riff had gotten it. Of course, her aunt had no idea at the time, and she thought Roxie had been studying for an upcoming test with Velma. In reality, Roxie and Tony had gone along with Riff to the tattoo parlor being run on the down-low out of the basement of a music shop a few blocks away. It seemed to be an odd choice of venue, but the customers testing out instruments upstairs made a nice cover for the buzzing of the tattoo machine and the yelping of anyone getting poked on the floor below. It was a small operation, but it got the job done. Roxie remembered thinking how cool it was that Riff even had a connection to get a piece done by the artist.

I wonder if that shop is even still open.

The second tattoo Roxie recognized was the skunk tattoo Riff had gotten on the very top part of his right arm, right near his shoulder. Roxie hadn’t gone with him when he’d gotten that one done, but she remembered lightly teasing him about it. Riff had insisted it held some sort of meaning to him, but he’d never shared that meaning with her. She’d always taken his word for it.

There weren’t any other tattoos, at least not that Roxie could see from her current vantage point. Her eyes trailed back up to Riff’s chest, and her cheeks warmed a bit as she dared to wonder if he’d gotten any additional tattoos since she’d last seen him in a similar state that were simply covered up by his undershirt.

She could have laid there for quite some time, simply watching him sleep and reassuring herself that he was safe. What would she have done if something had happened to him the previous night?

Roxie tried not to think about the idea too much. Riff was already playing with fire with his behavior and actions towards the Sharks. There was no use in worrying about everything that might have happened with Mr. Barone. She had no choice but to try not to dwell on it, even though she doubted her dreams would let her forget what had happened to them.

Roxie wanted to hate the man, Mr. Barone. He could’ve killed Riff at any moment. She didn’t need to see a gun to know Mr. Barone must have been carrying one.

All it would’ve taken was one second, and Riff would’ve been a goner. Just like Henry had been. Roxie carried guilt over Henry’s death with her to that day, and if something had happened to Riff the night before, her guilt would’ve been amplified tenfold. In some disturbing way, Roxie supposed that Mr. Barone could have been considered merciful. At the very least, he was more merciful than the scum that had decided Henry’s life was an even exchange for whatever amount of money he’d owed at the time.

And still, directly or not, Mr. Barone had caused a great deal of grief for her, and despite his merciful act of letting them both live another day, he wasn’t off the hook. If he hadn’t decided to play God that night in the alley over a year and a half back, Riff and Roxie never would’ve witnessed a murder. If they hadn’t witnessed a murder, they wouldn’t have been distracted and gotten caught by the cops. If they hadn’t gotten caught by the cops, Riff never would’ve taken the fall for them and gone to jail. And if Riff had never gone to jail, he wouldn’t have been motivated to break things off with Roxie.

It was really crazy to think about how far they’d come. But since they had been able to overcome so much and still find a way back together, Roxie felt confident that she could help Riff overcome the pressing issue with the Sharks. Whatever was going on between the Jets and Sharks would pass, just as it had with the Bishops, the Emeralds, and the Egyptian Kings. She just hoped it would pass sooner rather than later.

Though Roxie was happy not moving from Riff’s side, her stomach offered up some protest to the idea. There was also the fact that Riff had barely been able to eat any of his dinner the night before, and Roxie knew Riff rarely found the money or time to eat a proper meal the rest of the time when she wasn’t around. He’d probably be hungry too.

Roxie carefully shimmed out from underneath Riff’s arm and lightly placed it back down on top of a nearby pillow. She watched him as Riff shifted a bit, but remained asleep. Roxie slowly turned, threw her legs over the side of the bed, and stood.

One of her feet brushed against RIff’s discarded shirt. Roxie leaned down, picked it up, and quietly shook it out a bit. It was probably a lost cause, and she had a feeling Riff didn’t care one bit if his shirt was wrinkled, but it was a habit. When she was satisfied with her effort, she turned and hung the shirt over the metal railing of the bed’s headboard.

Then, Roxie turned and headed towards the door. She didn’t make it but a few steps away from the bed when she stubbed her toe on something sharp. She hissed, grabbed her injured foot in one hand and hopped on the other foot in order to keep her balance.

After a moment, Roxie let out a pained sigh as quietly as she could before standing on both feet once again. Warily, she turned around to look at Riff.

Much to her relief, he was still fast asleep.

Roxie turned once again to face where she’d been headed. She looked down at her feet and immediately spotted the heels she’d been wearing the night before. Riff’s sneakers were just a few feet away from them. She picked up both pairs of shoes and set them down at the foot of the bed in the hopes to avoid stubbing her tone on any of them again.

As she put the shoes back down on the floor, her faded light blue housecoat on the nearby clothing rack caught her eye. Roxie looked down at her dress, which was the same one she had been wearing the night before.

She looked over at the bed and noted that Riff was still asleep. It was enough for her to make up her mind. Roxie slipped off her dress easily and threw it over top of the clothing rack to be dealt with later. She grabbed the housecoat of the hanger, slipped it on, and tied it in the front to keep it secure.

Finally, Roxie made it to the bedroom door. She opened it, swiftly slid through the opening, and closed it gently behind her. When she had done that, she let out a sigh of relief.

Now that Riff was behind a closed door, she could stop walking on eggshells.

…

Eggs sound nice.

Eggs were probably all Roxie had in the refrigerator that she could offer up as breakfast, so they’d have to do.

Roxie headed over to the kitchen and set about starting to cook. She’d never made Riff breakfast before, so she wasn’t sure how he liked his eggs, if he even had a preference, or if Riff even liked eggs at all. Though they had woken up in the same bed on quite a few occasions, one of them always had to sneak out before Roxie’s aunt or Riff’s uncle noticed the other’s presence. If they had the time, they’d both sneak out and head over to a local diner to order some breakfast instead.

Roxie only contemplated for a few seconds before deciding that Riff would probably eat whatever she made him, regardless of how it was made.

As the eggs in the skillet on the stove began to sizzle, the front door to the apartment opened.

Roxie glanced over at the doorway and saw Betty close the door behind her. She was dressed in a dress far more formal than the ones she usually wore to the office. And given the earliness of the hour, it wasn’t likely Betty was already back from work. When Betty turned to face her, Roxie noted her slightly disheveled hair and makeup that didn’t look like it had been recently applied, which told Roxie everything she needed to know.

Betty’s bedroom door had been closed the previous night, but Roxie had incorrectly assumed that she had been sleeping behind it.

“Roxie!” Betty greeted, sounding surprised.

“Morning,” Roxie replied, unable to hide her knowing smile. “Long night?”

Betty nodded quickly and let out a nervous laugh. “You could say that.”

Roxie let out a small laugh of her own as she began to shift the eggs around the skillet with a spatula.

“I’m glad you’re here, Roxie,” Betty said. She walked past the kitchen and towards her bedroom, talking over her shoulder as she went. “I’m running late for work, but I’ve got some big news! Give me a few minutes.”

As Betty opened her bedroom door, Roxie replied, still smiling, “Take as much time as you need.”

Betty shut her bedroom door behind her. If Riff was still sleeping, he wasn’t likely to be sleeping for much longer. Roxie could only hope he’d wait until Betty left again to go to work before exiting her bedroom, if only to save her from an awkward encounter.

Roxie heard Betty exit her bedroom and enter the bathroom a minute or so later. By the time she was finished cooking the eggs and had moved the skillet to another burner on the stovetop to begin to cool, Betty had exited the bathroom and entered the kitchen once again.

“So, my news!” Betty began as she opened the refrigerator. She stuck her head inside briefly and grabbed something. She stood up straight and closed the door behind her. Then, she turned to face Roxie.

Betty was now dressed in her usual work attire, and her makeup and hair looked considerably more put together. She held a sack lunch that she must have prepared previously in her hands. But there was something else on her hand that was catching the light from the window across the room.

Roxie gasped. “Is that-”

“It is!” Betty confirmed, beaming brightly. She held out her left hand for Roxie to see.

Roxie took a step forward to get a closer look at the ring.

Holy-

“Is it the lawyer?” Roxie asked politely.

Betty nodded enthusiastically.

That was no surprise. The rock on the ring Betty wore was huge. Roxie was no expert in jewels, but she could tell the one that the lawyer chose for Betty must’ve cost him a small fortune. In all honesty, Roxie thought Betty should consider where she wore it. Wearing a ring like that around the neighborhood would bring the wrong kind of attention to one’s self.

“It’s lovely,” Roxie complemented, looking back up at Betty as the other woman retracted her hand. “I’m guessing you’ll be moving out, then?”

“In a few weeks, most likely,” Betty said apologetically. “I’ll be moving in with his sister until the wedding in a month or two.”

“That’s great,” Roxie replied, unsure of what else to say. After a moment, she added, “I’m happy for you, Betty.”

Betty smiled once more. Roxie had the feeling that Betty would be full of smiles until the day she moved out. “Thank you!” Betty adjusted her dress and brushed off what must have been a little bit of dust from near her collar. “Well, I better head to work now. I don’t think my boss will be very understanding if I’m tardy.”

“You better go, then,” Roxie agreed with a small smile.

Betty nodded and turned to leave, but suddenly she paused. She looked over at the skillet behind Roxie and smirked. “Isn’t that a lot of eggs for just yourself?”

“Long night,” Roxie said with a smirk, echoing Betty’s own explanation from a few minutes before.

Betty nodded understandingly with a smile and glanced over at Roxie’s closed bedroom door briefly before looking back at her. “We’ll talk later. Have a good rest of your morning.”

“You too.”

Betty had not been gone for more than a minute before Roxie’s bedroom door opened slowly. Roxie looked over and watched as Riff opened the door and craned his neck around the door to glance about the room. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, he opened the door fully and took a step into the living room.

Riff’s hair was slightly disheveled from sleep, and Roxie couldn’t help but snicker at the sight. He had thrown his shirt on, but had not bothered to button it up. Fortunately, he had not bothered to put his shoes on either, indicating that he had no intentions of going anywhere just yet.

Riff continued to look around the room for a moment before his eyes finally landed on her. And when they did, he smiled.

The way he smiled at her made her feel like melting inside. If Roxie hadn’t known any better, the awful events of the previous evening were just a bad dream. It was hard to find any rational explanation that they had both made it through everything and were now standing in her apartment unharmed.

“It was cold in the bed without ya.”

Roxie almost involuntarily laughed in reaction to his bluntness. “I’m sorry.”

“Good news about your roommate,” Riff commented nonchalantly, apparently having heard at least the majority of their conversation.

Roxie nodded. “It’ll be lonely when she moves out.”

“I can come ‘round more often, if ya want,” Riff offered with a slightly mischievous smile.

Roxie let out a light laugh. “You promise?”

Riff smiled a bit wider as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. When he reached her, his arms snaked around her back with familiar ease and he pulled her closer to him. Roxie closed her eyes, thinking Riff’s next move would be to lean down and kiss her, but when he made no move to do so, she frowned in confusion, opened her eyes and looked back up at him.

His expression was rather serious, and was almost a bit somber.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

Riff stared down at her for a few moments before continuing. As he spoke, a small smile threatened to break his serious composure. “Did we really survive a run-in with a mobster last night?”

It was silent for a few beats.

“... I think so?” Roxie answered, uncertainty plain as day in her voice.

It was quiet for just a few more seconds until they both broke into a fit of laughter. All of the stress from the evening before had finally boiled over, and they allowed themselves to have a bit of a laugh at their own expenses. Maybe it was a little manic, but it felt necessary.

As they laughed, the two leaned into their embrace. Riff’s arms tightened around her and Roxie pressed the side of her face up against him in an effort to get closer. As Riff laughed, Roxie could feel the light thuds of his laughter bounce off his chest. After a few moments of laughter, Roxie felt involuntary tears start to pool in her eyes before they eventually fell down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure whether the tears were from stress or from the laughter, but she didn’t care.

Their laughter subsided after a minute or two. The two pulled apart, and Roxie immediately began to wipe away the tears that had fallen, still letting out the occasional chuckle as she forced herself to calm down. Based on his reaction, seeing her in such a state almost fueled Riff’s laughter even further, but he forced himself to calm down as well. Wordlessly, he calmly lifted his hands to her face and swiped away the tears she had missed with his thumbs. Even when the tears were gone, his hands remained, gently cradling the sides of her face.

Once the both of them were fully settled, Riff leaned down and finally kissed her. To say that Roxie felt a great deal of emotion behind the kiss was an understatement. But Riff didn’t need to explain himself. Roxie returned the kiss with just as much fervor.

After a few moments, Riff pulled away and dropped his hands. Before Roxie could protest, he leaned his head to the side to look behind her.

“Do I smell food?” he asked.

“I made us eggs.”

“You… you made us breakfast?”

Riff sounded genuinely surprised, and his tone was shy and a bit sheepish.

It was in that moment that Roxie realized Riff was probably taken aback by her actions. When would have been the last time someone had made that gesture for him? Given the extended stay with his uncle and then Tony’s folks, the last time breakfast was probably prepared for Riff was most likely done by his mother. And she had been dead for over a decade.

“Action wasn’t the only one who noticed you barely got to eat last night,” Roxie said simply. “Plus, I was hungry too.”

She took his hand and gently led him over to the small kitchen table before gesturing to him to take a seat. Riff did as she wordlessly asked and did not protest, though he watched her every move.

“Now, I don’t do this for just anyone,” Roxie declared. She turned back to the stove, opened the nearby cupboard, and grabbed two plates. “But after last night, I figured you deserved a bit of a break.” She quickly scooped a decent helping of the scrambled eggs onto each of the plates before turning and placing them on the table.

Riff still looked at her like he was waiting for some kind of punch line as she grabbed some silverware from a nearby drawer and then sat down in the second chair placed at the small table. “You didn’t have to make me food,” he said.

“Well, I did,” Roxie countered. Roxie wasted no time in taking a bite off her plate.

Eventually, Riff relaxed and began digging into his helping as well.

The two ate in silence for several minutes.

“Do you want something to drink?” Roxie asked.

Riff shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

The silence continued as the weight of the previous night’s events continued to hang over them like the thick fog of a fall morning that simply refused to let up.

“What are you going to do with your share of the money?” Roxie dared to ask.

Riff paused mid bite, and set his fork down on his plate. “Ya know… same old. It’ll put a nice dent in one of the loans in particular.”

“Is that what was bothering you last night at the diner?”

Riff nodded, but his eyes were focused on his plate as he picked up his fork again. “My uncle got some kinda late notice.”

That sounds serious. “Do you think you’ll have enough to pay the amount they asked for?” Roxie asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice.

Riff nodded once again, though this time he met her eyes. “I’ll make it work.”

He gave her a smile, but it wasn’t like the genuine smile he wore before. It looked a bit strained, and maybe even forced.

“Riff, if you need any help-“

“I’m not gonna ask ya for money,” Riff insisted, shaking his head. “That ain’t fair. Besides, unless ya counted it this mornin’ already, who knows how much we actually have? I’m sure my half will be more than enough to take care of it.”

Roxie hoped he was right.

“What’re ya gonna do with your cut?”

Roxie was slightly taken aback by Riff’s question, but it was a fair one. Still, Roxie was afraid of answering it, and she’d have been lying to herself if she said that she didn’t fear his reaction. She took the last few bites of her eggs while debating her words. “I’ll put it towards my tuition.”

Riff’s focus was on his plate once again and he merely hummed in response.

“It should be enough, actually,” Roxie added hesitantly, watching Riff’s face for any indication that he processed what she was saying, “to pay for the upcoming semester.”

At that moment, Riff had finished his helping of eggs and no longer had the plate to focus on. He looked at her once more and forced a small smile. “That’s great, Doll.”

Riff rose from his chair. Roxie rose from hers as well and watched as Riff grabbed his empty plate, walked over to the sink, and placed the plate inside it.

“I don’t have to-“

“Roxie, it’s fine,” Riff swore, sounding significantly more sincere than his smile a moment before suggested. He turned to her and gently placed his hands on her upper arms. “I always knew there was a chance you’d go back.”

“I meant what I said; I’m not getting out of this neighborhood without you, at least not permanently,” Roxie reminded him seriously. “Me going back this semester shouldn’t affect us, and I don’t want it to. Besides, at this rate, I won’t even be able to afford to live near campus.”

“How would that work?”

“My own two feet and the subway system.”

Riff dropped his hands and his face scrunched slightly as he contemplated her words. Roxie could tell he was not entirely convinced, but he also didn’t look too willing to continue discussing the subject. Eventually, Riff rolled his eyes and Roxie felt a bit of relief at his lightened composure.

“We’ll figure it out,” Roxie reassured him.

Riff didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he looked down at her with an earnest look in his eyes. “... Ya know, you’re gonna be a great teacher, Roxie.”

Roxie could’ve sworn her heart skipped a beat.

Riff cleared his throat and his usual lighter demeanor began to slip back in. “If that’s what ya decide to study, I mean-“

Roxie leaned up to stand on the tips of her toes and pressed a quick kiss to Riff’s cheek, effectively silencing him. She turned quickly, deciding not to call Riff out on the slight red that grew on his face, grabbed her empty plate, and put it in the sink beside his.

“There’s something else,” Roxie said then.

Riff snapped out of his small daze. “Yeah?”

“Those favors from him,” Roxie continued, unable to say the man’s name out of fear of being overheard despite the fact that it was only the two of them. “We’re not going to actually cash those in, right?”

Riff shook his head. “I may be many things, but crazy ain’t one of them.”

At least they were on the same page on that issue. Roxie mentally removed “making sure Riff avoids a run-in with the Mafia” off her list of growing concerns for him. “There’s one last thing,” she realized out loud.

“What is it?”

“What happened last night has to stay between us, and only us.”

“You, me, Action, and Ice.”

“No,” Roxie disagreed quickly. “The more people who know about what happened, the more dangerous it is. Besides, Action and Ice don’t know everything that has happened regarding him. And as long as we do what he asks and don’t keep quiet, we’ll never see him again. Why bring them Action and Ice into it at all?”

Riff looked down at her thoughtfully as he considered everything she had said. “Fine,” he said. “But that means Tony don’t need to know, either.”

Roxie scoffed. “You’re just saying that because you two aren’t getting along right now.”

“‘Not gettin’ along’ is a mild way to put it, Roxie,” Riff corrected quickly. Before she had the chance to snap back a remark, he continued. “Tony doesn’t know everythin’ that went down over the past few years, either. What happens if we tell him, and a certain someone finds out we told him, and then that certain someone gets word about Tony talkin’ to his parole officer?”

“Tony would never rat us out.”

“Not sayin’ he would,” Riff clarified. “All I’m sayin’ is that Tony could be talkin’ to the guy about the weather, and if someone sees him talkin’ to a cop, it ain’t gonna mean good things for us, I can promise ya that.”

Roxie thought over what Riff had said, but she didn’t have to think for too long at all. Riff had a point. “Okay,” she relented. “This stays between us.”

Riff took her hands in his. “Just us.”

————————————————————————————

Riff would never allow himself to physically have a skip in his step, but he sure felt it internally as he headed back to the shop later that morning.

Not even the severe setback of the near death experience from the previous night would be able to kill Riff’s mood, though Riff knew he wouldn’t be forgetting it any time soon. That morning with Roxie had only sweetened the deal.

He was in love.

Riff had never been in love before, at least not that he’d known. But what other word could describe what he was feeling? The worst fear he’d ever felt in his life the previous night at the thought of something awful happening to her was one thing. The happiness and security he felt with her that morning knowing that she was safe was another.

And Riff couldn’t tell Roxie, or anyone else for that matter, that he loved her, but he knew.

If he told Roxie, she would probably return his words, whether she actually felt it or not. If Riff was going to ever hear those words from her, he had to be sure she meant it.

Riff didn’t want or need pity, and Roxie would know that. Riff didn’t need to love or have anyone to love him. Love was a privilege, and Riff knew that damn well.

But, and perhaps more importantly, the fear that Riff was forcing Roxie to stay in the neighborhood against her better judgment was starting to grow each day. If he told her he loved her, it would just be another reason she could give herself to justify sticking around. And if Roxie truly wanted to stick around, Riff wouldn’t fight her too hard on the subject. But he still worried there would come a day where she came to her senses and blamed him for her circumstances.

The only way Riff would ever say the words to her was if Roxie made the move first. And if she never said it, that was fine by him.

Riff would still love her just the same.

If only he could talk to Tony. After the night before, Riff was beginning to give some serious thought as to whether he should cut Tony some slack. If Tony was stubborn enough to stick to his “keep outta trouble” motto for the time being, at least until he got his head on straight and came back around to the Jets, maybe Riff didn’t have to give him such a difficult time about it. Even if Tony made it too easy for Riff not to give him some grief. Riff and Tony had always been that way- give a little here, take a little there. Family was like that. If Tony was taking a little this time around, maybe it was Riff’s turn to give a little.

If Riff could find a way to let Tony know he was willing to back off of his case, at least a little bit, maybe that would open the door to getting things back to the way they should be. Tony was his best friend, his brother. They shouldn’t be at odds. Tony should be beside him, making jokes and teasing Riff as he tries to navigate through the mess of feelings about Roxie he had suddenly found himself entangled in. Tony was no relationship expert by any means, but Riff trusted his opinion just the same.

But how could Riff even begin to approach Tony about everything that had happened?

“Ya know, Superman, I had a near-death experience with a mobster the other night and it made me realize I’m bein’ a bit too hard on ya. Oh, by the way, I’m head over heels for Roxie and I need your help to make sure I don’t put my foot in my mouth and mess it up real good.”

Riff had already agreed with Roxie that it was best to keep the whole ‘mobster’ thing between the two of them, and only the two of them. It really was for the best. But if Riff didn’t have that to use as an explanation to Tony for the sudden change of heart, what else did he have?

As Riff turned the corner around the block and the shop came into view, Riff noted that the garage door was already opened and he hesitated. He had no regrets about crashing at Roxie’s place the night before, but he hadn’t considered the reaction of some of the guys if they had noticed his absence.

Riff entered through the garage door slowly, not wanting to make much of a scene. Unfortunately for him, as soon as he entered the room, Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar paused their work on the sedan that had been brought in the day before. They looked up and watched as he took a few slow steps into the shop.

“Hey, fellas,” Riff greeted tiredly, suddenly feeling a little awkward. It was like he had been busted for something, though he wasn’t sure what.

Smowboy smirked. “We didn’t hear you or Diesel come in last night, Riff.”

Diesel gave Snowboy a warning look while Riff looked at Diesel with an amused smirk as he put the pieces together. “Well, ya know,” Riff said carefully. “We were all just tearin’ up the town.“

Diesel gave Riff an odd look, and Riff gave him as subtle of a look as possible that said: please keep quiet.

“Ya sure that was all you lot were up to?” Snowboy teased with a smirk.

Diesel’s suspicion was immediately forgotten as he glared at Snowboy.

As much as Riff typically didn’t mind the guys’ teasing and antics, the longer he stood there, the heavier his cut of the cash from the previous evening was beginning to feel in his back pocket. “I gotta go take care of somethin’ upstairs, I’ll be back down in a few.”

Thankfully, his explanation was enough for Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar, who quickly resumed their work on the sedan after a few more jestful quips. Riff walked past them with purpose and bounded up the stairs.

Riff closed the apartment door behind him and took extra care to make sure it was closed tightly. He crossed the living room area, opened his bedroom door, entered, and did the same to that door.

Only then did Riff feel comfortable finally removing the burden that was the wad of cash from his back left pocket. Before he left her apartment, Roxie had counted out the money before the two of them. At least Mr. Barone had done them a favor and given them an even amount. Riff could easily have seen a disagreement with Roxie taking place if they’d been given an odd amount of cash and been forced to choose who would get the slightly larger portion.

You take it.

No, you.

Riff had tried to hide any visible reaction that would display the sinking feeling he felt as Roxie finished counting the money. Fortunately, she hadn’t seemed to notice.

Riff crossed the bedroom and walked over to the desk. He opened the same drawer he kept his personal cash stashed in, took out said cash, and placed the bills with the wad of cash from the morning on the desk’s surface.

As Riff counted through all the physical money he had to his name, the late notice his uncle received just the previous day laid on top of the desk, just off to the right. Though it was an inanimate object, Riff felt like it was almost mocking his efforts.

Riff finished counting a few moments later and the sinking feeling he felt in his gut cemented itself as his worry was confirmed.

Shit.

He glanced over at the late notice to the right.

Damn.

Riff hoped the money from Mr. Barone would be more than enough to cover the amount that the bank had offered to settle the issue of the late payments. But even if he included all of his own personal savings- which he did not want to do, if it could be avoided- there still wouldn’t be enough funds to compile the full amount the bank had requested.

What was he supposed to do? Throw all his personal cash in the mix, still not have enough to satisfy the settlement offer amount, and also not have any money of his own? Roxie would understand if he couldn’t pay for some of their dates, but Riff’s stomach wouldn’t have such an easy time understanding if Riff simply stopped eating. Even the pathetic loaf of bread in the kitchen cost some green.

If only Mr. Barone had given them just a little bit more dough, it might have been enough. But Riff wasn’t feeling bold enough to call the man up, using the number on the business cards he’d given them, and try to negotiate.

Said business card was burning a whole in Riff’s other back pocket. Without a second thought, Riff took it out of the pocket and tossed it into the open drawer and out of sight. He had no intention of using it currently, and he had told Roxie as much. But there was always the looming threat of a rainy day in the future.

Sending the bank no money at all wasn’t an option. But Riff, or, RIff’s uncle rather, was already behind on payments.

They’ll take some money over no money, right?

Riff wasn’t sure if he even believed his own thoughts, but he was fresh out of other ideas.

Riff combined the bills into a single neat stack and rummaged through the open drawer once more. He quickly found an envelope and took it out. Roxie had brought him several a few weeks back to save him trips to the post office and encourage him to actually mail payments for the loans and taxes.

He set about stuffing all the money he had received from Mr. Barone and about half of his personal savings into the envelope. Once he was done, Riff looked at the late notice to his right, and blindly scrambled across the desk for a pen with his free hand. His fingers found one a moment later, and he quickly scrawled down the payment mailing address across the front of the envelope.

Riff looked at the late notice once again. After a moment, he folded it up and stuffed it in the envelope as well. It was better to get it out of sight with the rest of the cash than leave it laying around. If Roxie saw it, she'd realize he didn’t have the amount they were asking for.

When Riff was finished, he dropped the pen and seriously contemplated heading down to the post office a few blocks over right then and there. Despite the additional time he had still had left to come up with the money, Riff knew he wouldn't have enough of his personal stash saved up by the deadline, and money didn’t fall from the Mr. Barone money tree every night.

Or at least, Riff hoped it didn't.

Riff was perfectly fine with never seeing the man again.

He’d already been absent from the shop overnight and was late getting in that morning. Heading out again would only make the guys, particularly Diesel, more suspicious. Riff couldn't take the chance that they would start asking too many questions or spread gossip to the other Jets about what he may or may not have been up to.

First thing tomorrow, he decided without another thought.

Riff would take the money to the post office first thing in the morning. Maybe the bank would take pity on his uncle and accept the partial settlement payment.

Riff didn’t want to think too much about what would happen if they didn’t.

————————————————————————————

Summer rainy spells in New York City weren’t uncommon, but they happened seldom enough to turn the city into a temporary mess whenever they struck.

The rain continued to pour two mornings later, just as it had the night before. It rained throughout the night, and while it had provided a soothing ambience for Roxie to fall asleep to, the thought of going out in the weather during the day was enough to dampen her mood. It had been bad enough getting soaked to the bone the previous evening while Riff walked her home from work.

Of course, there hadn’t been any indication of rain during the daytime. It’d been another hot, gorgeous summer day. Well, as gorgeous as it could be in the West Side. So when the skies opened up that evening, Riff and Roxie had been taken by surprise and were forced to find temporary shelter under a nearby awning. However, the rain refused to let up, and the two had been forced to make their way back to Roxie’s apartment as fast as they could manage.

When they finally arrived, Roxie insisted on Riff waiting out the rain with her in her apartment, but he had declined, insisting that he had something to take care of first thing the following morning. Not wanting to continue to bicker with him while the rain continued to pour down upon them, Roxie eventually relented.

Roxie had gone inside her apartment and ditched her soaking clothes immediately. She hoped Riff had done the same. She had advised him as such as he jogged away from her apartment. A cold could wreak a bit of havoc on someone without a good diet or decent immune system, and Roxie knew from previous experience that Riff had neither.

At least I have an umbrella this time, Roxie thought to herself as she thought about the trek she was about to make over to the auto shop.

But first, Roxie had to make a trip to the post office. After confirming the amount they'd been given, Roxie realized that her cut from Mr. Barone was just enough to cover the tuition for the upcoming semester. She had every intention of mailing it out to the bursar’s office as soon as possible, even if that meant she had to fight through the rain in order to do so.

As Roxie was finishing up brushing her hair, the phone rang out from the living area. The fact that Betty had already gone to work for the day encouraged Roxie to race to the phone to ensure that she reached it in time.

“Hello?” she answered, only slightly out of breath.

“Uh, yeah, can I speak to Roxie?”

It was Gee-Tar.

Roxie snickered. “Gee-Tar, it’s me. Where are you calling from?”

“The shop.”

“How’d you get this number?”

“I found it jotted down on some scrap paper Riff left in the kitchen. Said it was in “‘case of emergency”.”

Roxie had given Riff the number to the landline in the apartment a few weeks back. She ignored the fluttering feeling she felt at the idea of Riff indicating that she should be contacted in such an event. Wait. “And is there an emergency?” she asked then, a slight panic beginning to rise.

“Nothin’ too alarmin’, except Riff ain’t comin’ outta his room.”

Roxie glanced at the clock on top of the nearby stove. It was already past 10 o’clock. “He hasn’t been out of his room at all this morning?”

“No.”

If Riff hadn’t even been able to bring himself to get out of bed and take care of the errand he had talked about the night before, Roxie had a pretty good idea as to why.

“Alright, I'll be over there soon as I can.”

The trip to the post office could wait until later in the morning.

————————————————————————————

Though some summer days were hard to watch pass by through the storefront window of Doc’s, that day was not one of them.

Tony could see the water pouring down from the awning and gutters from his spot behind the counter. He pitied anyone who had to be out and about in the weather.

As he wiped down the counter to clean up a bit of dust that had fallen from the boxes he’d used to stock the shelves earlier, the front door opened and the bell attached to it rang, echoing throughout the shop.

Tony glanced up and watched as Roxie closed her umbrella and leaned it up against the outside of the building before shuffling outside.

“Quite the day, huh?” he asked her with a smirk.

Though she was mostly dry, Roxie shook her hands a few times in an attempt to fling off any excess water. “You could say that.” She walked across the shop, stopped before the shelves across from the counter, and started to peruse them with purpose. “And it’s not even a warm rain.”

Tony set the rag aside and watched as Roxie reached for a can of soup on a particularly high shelf to no avail. Though he found her struggle a bit amusing, Tony decided to put an end to her suffering. He walked around the counter, and grabbed the soup she’d been reaching for with ease.

“Thanks,” she said with a small mile as he handed the can to her. “This should be it.”

Tony took the hint and made his way back around the counter to ring her up. “What’re you doin’ out in this weather, anyway?” he asked, not bothering to hide his curiosity. He knew better than to pry into the happenings of typical customers, but this was Roxie.

“Riff is sick.”

Tony did a double take. “Riff’s sick?”

“I think so,” Roxie clarified. “I’m about to head over to the shop now.”

Tony nodded as he took the money Roxie offered him and put it into the register’s drawer.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Roxie added quietly after a moment.

“Right,” Tony replied casually.

Despite their argument in the park a few weeks prior, Tony couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of worry for Riff. Whenever he’d come down with something in the past, it usually kept him down for a few days. But if Tony couldn’t be there to keep an eye on him, he felt better knowing that Roxie would be.

“You could swing by later,” Roxie suggested. “You could see for yourself how he’s doing.”

Tony shook his head. “I better not. Me and Riff… we ain’t-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roxie interjected dismissively. “You’re not on good terms right now, I know.”

Tony gave her a small smile. Given that the last conversation he had with Riff ended up in an argument in the park, what Roxie said was putting the status of things with him and Riff lightly. “Say, ya wanna get a bite to eat sometime?” he asked, changing the subject. “I feel like I’ve done nothin’ but work and sleep for the past few weeks.”

It was true. Between things heating up with the Jets and the Sharks on the streets, the increasingly sporadic visits from his parole officer, and just the plain heat of the summer days, Tony felt compelled more often than not to spend almost the entirety of his day in Doc’s, regardless of whether he was on the clock.

“You don’t want to make up with Riff, but you still want to spend time with me?” Roxie questioned suspiciously. Tony could tell by her tone and the small smile on her lips that she was teasing him. After a moment, she gave a small, mock sigh. “You’re lucky we’re friends, Wyzeck.”

Tony laughed once. “I guess so, Ms. Thomas.”

Roxie smiled nervously and grabbed the can of soup off the counter. “I’ll swing by in a few days.”

The answer was vague, and not like her usual self. She shifted on her feet, as if suddenly anxious to leave the store. She glanced at the exit every few seconds. She seemed worried.

“You good, Roxie?” Tony asked her carefully.

Roxie looked away from the door and back at him. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

If Tony wasn’t beginning to feel a bit concerned about why Roxie was refusing to tell him what was on her mind, he would’ve laughed at her rushed reassurances. “You seem nervous ‘bout somethin’.”

“I just want to get going and check on Riff,” she replied, not meeting his eyes and shifting on her feet once again.

Tony had a feeling there was something more going on than just that, but he could tell that now was not the time to push her. “I’ll let ya go, then,” he relented. “But, ya sure everythin’ is alright?”

Roxie finally met his eyes. “It is now.”

Now?

“I should get going,” Roxie added hastily, turning on her heels and headed towards the exit. “I promise to swing by in a few days. We can see about grabbing some food then.”

“I’ll see ya ‘round,” Tony bid defeatedly, watching her exit.

Wanting to forget Roxie’s odd behavior in favor of trying not to worry about it, Tony’s focus returned to the counter. He picked up the rag once more and resumed wiping the counter down.

When the bell rang out again a few seconds later, he chuckled to himself. Maybe Roxie had changed her mind and wanted to talk anyway. “Did ya forget somethin’, Roxie?” he called out, not bothering to look up from the counter.

“Lo siento?”

Tony dropped the rag and looked over towards the store entrance.

It wasn’t Roxie standing there, but another young woman instead. The poor girl was just about drenched. Her already dark hair looked darker from the rain and a small puddle of water began to pool at her feet as water droplets fell from the hem of her red dress.

Despite all of this, Tony was taken aback by her beauty. Her face was objectively attractive and her dark eyes seemed to shine a bit as she looked over towards him.

Tony realized he’d been staring for more time than what was socially acceptable when the girl’s curious gaze suddenly shifted. Her head tilted and she gave him a small frown.

“Oh, I uh…” Tony fumbled his words feebly. “Can I help ya with somethin’, miss?”

“¿Hablas español?” she asked carefully, taking a single step further into the store.

“Español?” Tony repeated uncertainty. “... Oh, Spanish?”

The girl smiled and nodded. “Si, si. Spanish.”

Tony cursed internally. “No,” he replied. “But, uh, give me one moment, yeah?”

The girl watched him curiously as he walked back around the counter and headed over to the stairs. “Valentina?” he called down the stairs. “Could ya come up when you have a sec?”

Once Tony heard some incoherent but audible response from Valentina, he turned back around to the girl and gave her a small sheepish smile.

A minute later, Valentina came up the stairs. “Si, what is it, Tony?”

Tony didn’t have to say anything further. Valentina noticed the girl immediately and began to gush over her in Spanish. Tony watched with a small smile as Valentina led the girl over to the counter. Valentina slipped behind it and withdrew a clean towel from a shelf below.

The girl took the towel from Valentina with an appreciative smile. “Gracias,” she said. “Tenía un paraguas, pero se lo llevó el viento.”

Tony continued to stand where he was, watching their exchange.

Valentina raised an eyebrow at him. He was so entranced by the girl that he hadn’t noticed her staring at him for a few moments. “Tony?” she asked pointedly. “Could you get a mop, please?”

Tony snapped out of his daze. “Huh? Oh, yeah.”

Tony mopped away at the puddles pretty poorly for the next few minutes. He was distracted by Valentina and the girl, and kept glancing up at them every minute or so. They spoke exclusively in Spanish, but that only fueled Tony’s curiosity further. Tony watched as Valentina got together a few goods for the girl from nearby shelves before ringing her up at the cash register.

Eventually, Valentina took the towel back from the girl and exchanged it for her personal umbrella that Tony knew she kept stashed underneath the bar.

“Solo trae esto de vuelta en un día soleado,” Valentina instructed the girl as she took the umbrella from her hands. “No hay prisa. Y dile a Anita que dije hola.”

The girl nodded earnestly. With an umbrella in one hand and her paper bag of items in the other, she turned on her heels and headed towards the exit. As she passed him, she gave Tony a small smile, which he readily returned as he leaned on the mop in a carefree stance.

The bell on the front door rang out once again as the girl slipped outside. She opened the umbrella hastily before heading down the sidewalk and eventually disappearing from Tony’s view.

“Are you going to clean, or are you just going to lean?” Valentina called jokingly from behind him.

Tony stood to attention. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Valentina shook her head at him before making her way back around the counter and heading back over towards the stairs.

“Say, Valentina,” Tony said, stopping her before she left the room, “that girl- do you know her?”

Valentina scoffed lightly. “Do you think I know every puertorriqueña in this neighborhood?”

Tony’s hope quickly fled. “No… uh, nevermind. Forget I said somethin’.”

Valentina noticed his change in attitude and took pity on him. “I don’t know her name,” she added after a moment, her tone gentler than before. “I only know of her brother.”

Tony’s brows furrowed as he pondered Valentina’s odd choice of phrasing. Before he could ask her what she meant, Valentina passed him and took a few steps down the stairs. “You better get back to mopping, Romeo,” she called up to him as she disappeared from view.

Tony nodded, though he knew she could not see, and returned to the task at hand. As he continued to mop up the water she had brought in, Tony frequently glanced up at the door every now and then, staring longingly at the door.

Maybe it was another day Tony would be remiss to be spending inside Doc’s.

————————————————————————————

A few light raps to the door riled Riff from his near-sleep trance.

He lifted his head up just enough to look over towards the door and rolled his eyes. He flipped around on the bed laid back down, this time facing the wall. His head was throbbing, and every single muscle in his body ached. He was cold, but couldn’t find the energy in him to climb under the sheets. Riff wasn’t one to let some little cold get him down, but he felt like he’d gone a few rounds solo against several Sharks ten times over.

“Gee-Tar, I’ve already told ya once, I’m fine,” he called tiredly. “Now leave me be so I can die in peace.”

The door opened.

“That doesn’t sound ‘fine’.”

Riff turned back over and sat up once he spotted Roxie slowly making her way into the room. “What’re ya doin’ here?” he asked, though he had a sneaking suspicion.

“Gee-Tar called me,” Roxie answered. “He told me you haven’t gotten out of bed.” She took a step further into the room and immediately frowned as she looked him over. “Riff, are those the same clothes you had on last night?”

Riff plopped back down and his head hit the pillow with a soft thud. He closed his eyes in order to avoid seeing her disappointed look. If only he had had the motivation to crawl under the sheets before she had shown up.

He heard Roxie sigh and take a few more steps across the room to approach the bed. When he finally dared to open his eyes, he saw her looking down at him with her hands on her hips. Though he expected her to be cross with him, the sympathetic look on her face suggested otherwise.

“I’ll be fine, really,” Riff assured her, not wanting to cause her any more concern than he already had. “Don’t know if I’ll be as much help as usual with the books today, but I’ll head downstairs in a few.”

A small frown returned to Roxie’s face. “I’m not worried about the books, Riff.” She carefully reached over and placed a light hand on his forehead. Riff forced himself to keep his eyes open as her cool hand brushed his skin. He wanted to keep up a tough front, even though he had to admit he was touched by her fussing over him. “You’re burning up,” Roxie said decisively as she withdrew her hand a second later. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Riff shook his head and moved to sit up once again. “I’ve got stuff to take care of. The guys need me.”

Roxie placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him firmly back down on the bed.

Riff huffed out a sigh. He could try to argue the point with Roxie, but in his current state of physical fatigue and with her stubbornness, he wasn’t likely to win.

“They need you to not be sick. They’ll be fine without you for one day. I’ll even supervise them for you,” Roxie joked with a small smile. “Everything else can wait.”

Riff sighed once more and settled down further into the bed. “Wait,” he remembered suddenly, sitting up again, “There’s just one thing I gotta do.”

Roxie put a hand on each of his shoulders this time, and forced him to lie back down once more. “I’ll take care of it. What is it?”

Riff eyed Roxie cautiously for a moment. He didn’t want her to know the details of the payment he intended to mail off to the bank, but the money and the late notice were already stuffed away in an envelope. She wouldn’t necessarily know what she’d be doing…

“I got somethin’ that needs to be mailed.”

“Not a problem,” Roxie replied quickly. “I had something I was going to mail today myself.”

“It’s in the second drawer down,” Riff informed her, vaguely pointing in the general direction of the desk. “Could ya…?”

Roxie nodded and walked over to the desk. She quickly found the envelope he referred to, and Riff thanked his past self for having the sense to seal it before he had shoved it back inside the drawer.

“Is this it?” she asked.

Riff nodded. “It needs a stamp, though.”

“Got it. I’ll head over there now,” Roxie announced as she walked back over towards the bed. “In the meantime, get out of those clothes. When I get back, I’ll heat you up the soup I brought.”

“Thank you, Roxie,” Riff said seriously with a small smile. “For everythin’.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied softly, running a light hand through his hair.

Riff fought the urge to close his eyes as the gesture began to lull him back into a sleepy state. But as Roxie continued to look down at him sweetly, a feeling of guilt broke through RIff’s fatigue. “I should’ve listened to ya,” he admitted quietly.

Riff had every intention of doing what Roxie told him to the previous evening and get out of his sopping wet clothes the moment he could. But when he had returned to the shop after dropping her off at her apartment, Baby John was there. He’d gotten into a fight with his ma’s boyfriend and stormed out. He needed a bit of a talking down, but that’s what Riff, Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar were there for. All thoughts of the chills as Riff’s soaked clothes attempted to dry were forgotten in favor of making sure the young Jet was alright. Baby John had ended up crashing in the apartment overnight, and Riff had climbed into his bed without another thought.

“Did something happen with Baby John?” Roxie asked. He must’ve still been downstairs with the rest of the guys when she came in.

Riff nodded. “But he’ll be fine.”

“Good,” she commented sincerely. Then, she smirked and slowly removed her hand from his hair. “Well, I think I can find a way to forgive you if you listen to me today and rest. But first, you need to change out of those clothes.”

Despite his weariness, Riff let out a single laugh. “Alright, doc, I’ll do as ya say. Ya gonna head over to the post office now, or did ya want me to put on a show for ya?”

Roxie shook her head at him, but Riff could tell she was fighting the urge to smile. “I’m leaving,” she quipped. “You are incorrigible.”

“That’s some fancy speech, Doll.”

“Goodbye, Riff.”

Riff didn’t bother to keep his eyes open as Roxie leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before turning and walking away from the bed.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said quietly before slipping out the door.

Not soon enough, Riff thought to himself longingly as he forced himself to fight the tiredness and proceed to sit up and find a change of clothes.

————————————————————————————

The rain hadn’t let up at all. In fact, it only seemed to be coming down more.

But Roxie was determined to make it to the post office a few blocks away as quickly as she was able to. The envelopes in her purse felt like they weighed more than what was physically possible as their importance never strayed too far from her mind.

Her tuition payment was in one. Riff had entrusted her with the other envelope, and although she did not know its contents, that made it no less significant to her. Riff had planned to take it over to the post office himself before he had come down with what Roxie suspected was a fever, and that spoke volumes. However, she doubted it was anything that warranted too much concern. It was likely just payment on one of the loans. Riff had mentioned using his cut from Mr. Barone to make a payment on one of them.

Although Riff had recently insisted on taking loan payments to the post office himself, something Roxie had not bothered to dissuade him from doing, he was unable to do so this time. Instead, Riff had trusted her to mail it off, whatever it was, and Roxie wasn’t going to let him down. Treacherous rain be damned.

Roxie’s umbrella had done an admirable job of keeping her mostly dry, except for her shoes. But that was unavoidable. Regardless, she was thankful, and her luck only encouraged her to walk faster down the sidewalk. Fortunately, there were few people out and about due to the weather, and that seemed to make the trip take even less time.

Finally, Roxie was about a block away from the post office. As she rounded the corner, the sign affixed to the building came into view and she smiled to herself in relief.

When she was just a few yards away from the entrance, a truck passed her on the street. There must’ve been a build up of rainwater on the road, for when the truck passed her, a wave of water flew up and headed straight towards her.

Though stunned, Roxie had enough sense to side step out of the way, avoiding taking most of the hit. However, she realized a moment later that her purse had not been so lucky. She cursed at the sight of her purse, not caring at all if anyone happened to overhear. The purse already looked soaked.

Roxie quickly crossed the few yards that remained between her and the post office’s entrance. She closed her umbrella and leaned it against the outside of the building before hastily entering the lobby.

The room was empty, save for her. A small act of kindness from the universe, given what had just transpired. The last thing Roxie wanted at that moment was for any prying eyes to be taking a look at what she planned to mail.

Roxie walked over to the nearby counter and placed her purse on top of it. It landed on top of the surface with a thud and a small bit of water splashed at the motion. She groaned, opened the purse, and removed the two envelopes inside of it as gingerly as she could. The envelopes were downright soaked and began to disintegrate and waste away at the touch. Roxie cursed again, ignoring the disapproving look of the clerk who waited behind the service window on the very far end of the room.

There was no way either pieces of mail could be sent off in their condition.

Roxie went ahead and removed the money from her envelope and sat the bills on top of the counter. The money would dry, and Roxie could easily purchase another envelope to send it off in.

But there was the issue of the envelope Riff had tasked her with mailing. The ink along the front of it that comprised the mailing addressed was smudged beyond legibility. Even if she bought another envelope, she wouldn’t know where to send it.

Roxie contemplated going back to the shop and getting the information from Riff, but if she could figure it out herself, she preferred to do so. Riff was clearly not well, and Roxie wanted to prevent any further disturbances to him resting.

Though it felt intrusive, Roxie quickly realized that the only option she had left was to check the contents of the envelope. Maybe whatever it was that Riff wanted to mail would have the mailing address listed somewhere. And the longer she debated on whether or not to check, the likelihood of the address getting smudged on a piece of paper inside the envelope only increased as the water continued to soak its contents.

Roxie opened the envelope easily. Though it had been sealed when she retrieved it from the drawer of Riff’s desk, the water saw to it that the glue wouldn’t put up too much of a fight.

Cash was the first thing Roxie noticed. But that wasn’t a surprise, given her suspicions of what Riff wanted to mail.

What was a surprise was a piece of paper that was also enclosed in the envelope. It was folded up behind the stack of cash, towards the back of the envelope.

If there was to be a mailing address on anything, that paper had to be it. She carefully took it out of the envelope, unfolded it, and glanced at it. There was the mailing address at the payment towards the bottom of the page. But there was something else about it…

Though she had never intended to invade Riff’s privacy in such a way, Roxie couldn’t help but be intrigued by the contents of the letter, and soon enough, she found herself reading through the whole thing.

…

So, that was why Riff had been acting so strange the previous morning. He had been telling the truth about the payment that he was going to use the money for. But…

I’ve already gone this far…

Though she began to feel very guilty, it was pushed to the back of her mind as Roxie quickly counted the cash Riff had intended to send with the letter. When Roxie was finished counting, she read the piece of paper he’d included once more. Her eyes scanned the length of the page until she reached the amount listed at the bottom.

There wasn’t enough money.

There was no way it was going to end well. The notice threatened legal action against Riff’s uncle. Given the state of the neighborhood and the increasingly apparent urgency to tear down everything old and replace it with something new and shiny, the bank’s threat seemed pretty credible. And if the bank moved forward with the threat, they’d inevitably move in on the shop and find Riff’s uncle to be absent.

Roxie didn’t want to think about what all that would mean for Riff and the rest of the guys he had taken in. If they were spared an arrest and squating charges, they’d still be out on the streets with nowhere else to go. When Betty eventually moved out, Roxie was sure to get a new roommate. And although she may have been able to get away with sneaking Riff in and out of the apartment without the new roommate discovering his presence, there would be no way Roxie would be able hide Diesel, Snowboy, and Gee-Tar as well.

Plus, if Riff didn’t have the shop anymore, there would be nothing left to distract him and the rest of the Jets from the growing tensions with the Sharks. If they truly had nothing left to fight for, what would prevent them from calling a rumble just to put an end to it all? Roxie didn’t feel confident that she’d earned enough of Riff’s trust to be able to talk him out of a rumble just yet.

Even if matters with the Sharks were settled, and if the Jets came out victorious, Riff wouldn’t have anything to show for it. How would he make a living? Roxie still had at least a few more semesters of school left before she could attempt to get a certification and secure an actual teaching position. Plus, the measly pay she earned from the factory was barely enough to make her own ends meet. Trying to provide for both of them would be nearly impossible.

Damn it, Riff.

It was most likely his pride that prevented him from asking for her help. Roxie probably would’ve helped Riff, too, if he had told her what was going on. But now, his pride was going to earn him a swift kick to the streets.

Unless…

Roxie’s eyes slowly trailed from the pile of Riff’s money over to the stack of her own.

…

It would be enough to satisfy the settlement offer from the bank. And if that got settled, Riff and the guys could continue to stay at the shop.

She knew that it would be enough money with absolute certainty. Roxie had taken painstaking care to count all of the money she had several times over to ensure she had enough for the tuition. Besides the small amount she’d earned from the shop and next month’s rent, almost all of the money she’d saved over the summer and what she was given by Mr. Barone was lying right there, just waiting to be spent.

There was just the question of what to spend it on- her tuition, or the auto shop?

What a choice.

She didn’t have to stand there in the lobby for long before the answer came to her.

Riff had enough obstacles to overcome, and Roxie wasn’t going to let him have his own pride be another thing that stood in his way.

Roxie combined both stacks of money and headed over to the clerk across the room to request another envelope and postage.

Once the new envelope and all its contents had been mailed off, Roxie headed back to the auto shop. She paid no mind to her wet shoes or soaking purse that dangled from the crook of her arm as her mind wandered.

She’d done it.

She’d used her money to ensure Riff got to keep the auto shop. Well, at least he’d get to keep it for a little while longer.

Roxie wasn’t necessarily upset or angry with herself that she had made that decision. Two days ago, she had already realized that she would be unable to afford tuition for the upcoming semester. And in the near two days that had passed since, the fact that that was no longer the case had yet to truly sink in. Plus, Roxie knew that at the rate she’d been able to save money, enrolling in classes during the spring semester wouldn’t be a problem at all, barring any major changes in her finances.

Riff would get to stay in the shop for a little while longer, and the bank would be prevented from sniffing around the shop to see what was really going on. Keeping Riff safe and happy was becoming an increasingly important priority for Roxie, and the conclusion she reached and the decision she made satisfied that.

But why had she reached the conclusion so quickly?

Roxie should have taken more time to deliberate. In retrospect, she knew that. Even though the deed was done, and her money, along with Riff’s money, was already well on the way to be delivered to the bank within the next few days, she should’ve thought it through just a little bit more.

She had no idea what she was going to tell Riff when he found out what she’d done. There was little chance he wouldn’t find out at some point. Would he be upset? What would Tony think?

By the time she arrived back at the auto shop, Roxie was internally shaking her head to herself in disbelief and was seriously beginning to doubt her decision. Riff had never asked a whole lot of her, all things considered. He certainly wouldn’t have asked her for money, he made that very clear the morning before.

So why had she done it? Why had she done any of what she’d done for him recently?

Roxie made Riff breakfast the morning before. Now, he was heading back to the auto shop with a plan to heat up some soup for Riff and keep an eye on him so that he didn’t make himself any more sick. And she had just temporarily postponed her future in order to make sure Riff didn’t lose the best possible shot he had at making a better life for himself.

Why?

Roxie knew she didn’t have to do any of those things for any man, even Riff.

But she did them anyway. And Roxie had done it all without a second thought because it was Riff.

Because Roxie loved him.

…

She loved him.

Roxie had thought she loved Riff before, back when they were together the first time around. It had dawned on her in the aftermath of the rumble with the Emeralds. Riff, like many of the others, did not make it out of the fight clean or unscathed. He still had the scar under his right eye to prove it. Though his wounds were never a true danger to his life, the experience still shook Roxie up all the same.

The run in with Mr. Barone just a few days before had shaken her up even more. Roxie feared more for Riff in those moments in that alleyway than she had watching him fight off the urge to limp back after the rumble with the Emeralds or any other fight or skirmish he had ever gotten himself into. Though Riff would have no physical scars from the encounter with Mr. Barone to remind her of what had happened, she knew that it had affected her deeply all the same.

And now, given everything the two of them had been through, Roxie knew why. It was love.

Though it made sense, the realization was shocking. Maybe their time apart hadn’t erased what she felt for him after all.

Roxie debated with herself whether Riff should know. What if he was receptive? It would change everything.

But what if Riff wasn’t receptive to the idea at all? If Roxie told him the truth about the extent of her feelings too soon, she ran the risk of running Riff off entirely. She knew from past experience that emotional talks were not his forte. Unlike most other things in life, Riff tended to walk away from those situations than face them head on. There’d be no chance of talking Riff out of a rumble with the Sharks if he wasn’t even willing to talk to Roxie at all.

She had to be careful around Riff from here on out, just in case.

Roxie entered the auto shop and merely nodded in response as Diesel, Snowboy, Gee-Tar, and Baby John greeted her once again. They didn’t notice her suddenly meek composure that resulted from her attempt to conceal her life-altering realization as she immediately headed up the stairs and entered the apartment quietly.

First, check on Riff. Second, get to the soup.

Roxie opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could and found Riff still laying in bed. However, she noted that he had at least done what she asked and had changed his clothes.

Riff was lying on his side facing the door. As Roxie entered the room, he opened his eyes and gave her a smile that erased any doubt she had about whether she had made the right decision at the post office.

“I thought you would be sleeping,” she admitted.

He smiled. “Just wanted to make sure you were comin’ back.”

Riff was going to go on the mend. Roxie would see to it.

Riff was going to have a fighting chance to keep the shop and make something of himself. And she loved him.

————————————————————————————

Though Riff was only stuck in bed one day, a small chill seemed to linger in his bones throughout the following week. Fortunately, Riff was finally starting to feel like his old self again just in time for his next date night with Roxie.

Neither of them had brought up the idea of going back to the diner, regardless that Mr. Barone had assured them that they wouldn’t see him again, as long as they did as he asked. Riff wasn’t sure if they would keep away from their diner forever, but the thought of already returning there seemed too soon.

Without a specific destination or activity in mind, Roxie told Riff she would meet him at the shop in the evening. Riff didn’t mind the lack of a specific plan for their date. As far as he was concerned, any time spent with Roxie was time well spent.

Riff shut the hood of the sedan he’d been working on and tried to wipe oil off his hands with a nearby rag when the apartment door opened on the landing upstairs.

“Snowboy already leave?” Diesel called out to him as he shut the door behind him and began to walk down the stairs. Diesel had gone up to the apartment about half an hour before to try and remove oil that had found a way into his hair. Diesel’s hair still looked pretty damp, but at least Riff couldn’t see any obvious black splotches.

Riff nodded his head towards the open garage door. “Left ‘bout a minute ago.”

“Shit,” Diesel murmured. “Last thing I need is for him to show up at Velma’s apartment to pick up Gussie before I even get there. Velma’s ol’ man will never let me hear the end of it.”

Riff smiled, though he felt sympathetic for Diesel. It seemed that Velma was on some kick with group dates lately. Apparently, Velma planned to drag Diesel along on a group date with Gussie and Snowboy.. However, Riff wasn’t that miffed about him and Roxie not getting an invite this time around. After the way the last group date he’d been on had ended, he had more than his fill of them.

“Ya better get goin’, then,” Riff suggested.

“Shouldn’t you be gettin’ a move on yourself, Boss?” Diesel asked. He looked Riff up and down, noting the oil that still stained Riff’s hands and the matching stains on his shirt and jeans. When he was done, Diesel smirked suggestively. “Or does Roxie dig that kind of look on ya?”

If anyone else had made such a comment about Roxie, Riff might’ve had a mind to set them straight with a quick right hook to the jaw. But since it was Diesel, he settled for giving him a light punch on the arm instead.

Diesel chuckled and rubbed his arm jokingly. “Forget I said anythin’. I best go before Velmas shows up and drags me out herself.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Riff teased, though he knew from Diesel that Velma’s anger was not one that should be joked about. “Shut the door behind ya, will you?”

Riff threw the rag he had been attempting to use to wipe the oil off his hands onto the workbench as Diesel exited the garage with a quick wave and closed the garage door behind him. Then, Riff headed upstairs and entered the apartment.

By the time Riff had changed his clothes and finally gotten the oil off his hands after vicariously scrubbing them in the bathroom sink, a good chunk of time had passed. He realized Roxie would be arriving at the shop any minute, and he didn’t want to keep her waiting on the shop floor for too long.

Riff nearly jumped out of his skin when he exited the bathroom and found Gee-Tar eating a slice of bread in the kitchen.

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Riff asked. Gee-Tar had left earlier in the afternoon to hang with Big Deal, Balkan, and A-Rab doing who knows what. Riff had only asked them to try not to cause any trouble. Riff had plans that he intended on keeping that evening, and he would not have been too keen to bail them out of whatever mess they made for themselves. However, the fact that Gee-Tar was standing in the kitchen looking relatively normal was a good sign that they had done as he had requested.

Gee-Tar swallowed the bite of bread he was in the middle of. “Got a date tonight. Needed a bite to eat first.”

Seems like it’s date night for everyone. “Oh, yeah? Who’s the lucky gal?”

Gee-Tar smiled bashfully “I gotta get goin’.”

Riff nodded and let Gee-Tar’s failure to answer his question slide. If Gee-Tar wanted to keep the lady’s identity a secret, fine by him. Riff had been through enough drama recently to last him a lifetime. He didn’t care to add Gee-Tar’s dating escapades to that list, even if Gee-Tar was a fellow Jet.

Gee-Tar walked past Riff and headed towards the front door. “I grabbed the mail on the way in, it’s over there, by the bread.”

Riff rolled his eyes. “Thanks. Do your best to keep quiet comin’ in tonight, will ya?”

The last time Gee-Tar had come in late at night, he had tripped over something and woken Diesel and Snowboy up. Even Riff had been yanked from sleep. When he ducked his head out of the bedroom and to look into the living room, he saw Diesel and Snowboy throwing pillows at Gee-Tar for disturbing their slumber.

The apartment door shut firmly and Riff could only hope that Gee-Tar had heard him. Then, he turned to face the counter in reference. Sure enough, right by the bread that Gee-Tar had barely managed to close the packaging on, was a single envelope.

Riff had been waiting impatiently all week for some sort of acknowledgement of the money that was mailed the week before. Even if it wasn’t the exact amount the settlement offer had listed, he figured the bank was likely to send him some sort of follow up correspondence. Riff trusted Roxie to mail off the money for him, but the whole thing still made him a bit anxious. Looking back on it, he wondered whether he should have protested a bit more and actually taken the envelope down to the post office himself. Just over a week had passed since it was all mailed off, but Riff made sure to go through his uncle’s mail every day, vigilantly waiting for a response.

When Riff approached the counter and read the return address on the envelope laying there, his heart stopped.

It looked like the response from the bank he’d been waiting for.

Riff glanced at the apartment door. He knew Roxie would be arriving at any time, but how long would reading the letter take?

Riff headed to his bedroom hastily. As far as he knew, he would be the only one left in the shop, but any of the guys could come back at any moment, and Riff wanted to make sure they didn’t catch a glimpse of what the letter said before he had a chance to read it himself.

Once the bedroom door was cracked behind him, Riff wasted no time ripping open the envelope and yanking out the letter. He braced himself as his eyes began to scan over its contents.

“Dear Mr. Edward Lorton,

This correspondence serves as notice of our receipt of the full settlement payment for the balance on your account as indicated in the previous correspondence that was mailed to you.

We thank you for your prompt action in order to resolve this issue. As a courtesy in light of your quick response, we have extended the due date of your next regularly scheduled payment by one month. Please note that your monthly payment, the amount of which is as indicated in your contract, will be due on Monday, September 30, 1957.

If you have any further questions regarding the status of your account or the balance of your account, please inquire further at the address listed below…”

Riff stared at the paper he held firmly in his right hand, though he was no longer reading it.

It didn’t make any sense. He hadn’t sent them nearly enough money. Was the bank really that desperate for some sort of payment that they were willing to write that much off?

Riff stood there staring at the letter and running through all the possibilities in his mind for several long minutes. He heard the apartment door open and close faintly in the distance, but remained where he stood.

“Riff, are you in here?” Roxie called out.

Hearing her voice caused the realization to smack him right upside the head.

She did it.

“Hello?”

“Bedroom,” Riff called out simply, keeping his tone neutral.

He heard footsteps approach and a moment later the door opened fully. He glanced at Roxie as she entered the room, and she smiled upon seeing him. Even though she was dressed in a blue dress that looked stunning on her, that would not be enough for Riff to forget what he had just learned or deter him from addressing it with her.

“Gee-Tar let me in,” Roxie answered his unasked question as she shut the door behind her.

“Great,” Riff replied dryly, his eyes falling back on the letter in his hand.

“... What’re you reading?”

Riff ignored her question. “What was it that ya said you needed to mail out last week?”

“What?”

“Last week,” Riff prompted. “When I was sick, and ya said you’d mail off that thing for me. Ya said you had something to mail, too. What was it?”

Roxie was obviously taken aback, and that’s when Riff knew that she was catching on to what he was getting at. “It was my tuition for this next semester,” she replied evenly. “I already told you that’s what I was going to do with my cut.”

“So, ya mailed it out, then?” Riff countered. “Roxie, tell me that ya mailed in your money for your tuition.”

Roxie crossed her arms and looked at him carefully. “... Do you want me to tell you that, or do you want me to tell you the truth?”

“Roxie.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with what’s in your hand, would it?”

Riff held out the letter to her with a quick flourish. Roxie grabbed it from his hand just as quickly and began to read it. Riff watched in silence as Roxie read through the letter. When she was done reading, her expression sombered, and she looked up at him once again with wide eyes.

“Riff, I-”

“Why didn’t ya tell me?” Riff demanded, taking care to not raise his voice, but also not bothering to hide his disappointment. “Why didn’t ya tell me you used your money to cover what I didn’t have?”

“I couldn’t,” Roxie answered simply. “You wouldn’t have let me do it if you knew.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t have,” Riff agreed. “So why’d ya do it at all?”

“Because you need the shop.”

“And you need to have a future, with or without me ‘round. You need to go back to school!”

“I will in the spring. I’ll have plenty of money saved by then,” Roxie countered. It was clear by this point that she was getting just as frustrated as he was. “And have you considered the fact that my future is tied to yours? We’re in this together, remember? I want what’s best for you anyways, but even if I didn’t, I’d only be hurting myself by standing by and watching you make a mistake that I could’ve prevented.”

“You don’t get it!” Riff snapped angrily. “I made ya leave this neighborhood before. And by you making this decision for me, it feels like I’m forcin’ you to stay here now.”

Roxie’s angry expression immediately fell at his words. “I know you’re not,” she disagreed quietly. “It was my choice.”

“Well, that’s what it feels like,” Riff admitted exasperatedly, the volume of his voice falling rapidly as well. He sighed, and took another moment to calm down. “… I didn’t ask ya to do this, Roxie.”

“You didn’t, and I know you never would,” Roxie acknowledged solemnly.

“And yet ya still did it?”

“Yes.“

“Why?!”

“Because I love you.”

…

Riff wasn’t quite sure if he heard her correctly.

“… What?”

Roxie ignored his question. “How could I stand by and not help you when I had the chance?” she implored. “I know you support me going back to school. I wanted you to know I support what you’re trying to do here with the shop. It’s probably the best thing you have going for you, and I couldn’t let you just lose it. Because I love you.”

There were those words again. If Riff wasn’t sure about whether he heard her correctly the first time, he was now.

Hearing those words from her changed everything. Hearing those words extinguished any flames of anger that remained in him. Riff knew he was still likely to feel disappointed by what she had done, but at that moment, he didn’t care. He had finally heard the words he wasn’t sure he’d ever hear from her, and his heart lurched.

The energy in the room shifted.

“Roxie… you’re wrong.”

Roxie did a double take and she frowned at him out of confusion. “…. I’m sorry?!”

“The shop ain’t the best thing I got goin’ for me,” Riff corrected her patiently.

“It’s not?“ Roxie asked.

“No,” Riff confirmed, shaking his head for emphasis. He took a step towards her to close the distance between them. Much to his relief, Roxie did not take a step away from him, and she remained where she stood. “It’s you.”

Riff lightly put his hands on the side of her face and gently tilted her head upwards to look at him. Roxie had an uncertain look on her face, but her eyes never left his as she waited for him to continue.

“I love you, too.”

Roxie’s eyes widened. The confession left Riff feeling vulnerable under her gaze, and he didn’t care for it all.

Fortunately, Roxie was not one to leave him hanging. She stood up on her toes to close the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

Riff smiled into the kiss and his hands fell from her face to wrap around her waist. He felt her hands come up to rest behind his neck as she kept his face close to hers as possible.

The energy in the room shifted once again as the kiss got heated very quickly.

Although he was reluctant to do so, Riff pulled back, finally breaking the kiss. Roxie attempted to kiss him once again, but he kept his reserve and remained out of her reach. “It’s probably gettin’ late,” he offered awkwardly as an explanation. “... We better get goin’ if ya still wanted to go out.”

Roxie shook her head and removed her hands from behind his neck. “I’m fine staying in.” The palms of her hand came to rest flat on his chest, and Riff was certain she could feel his heart racing. “I just want to be with you.”

Roxie’s words were innocent enough, but the desirous look on her eyes indicated something else.

Though it was subtle, her suggestion did not go over Riff’s head. He felt warmer just at the thought of it, but he needed to be sure. “We don’t have to do nothin’,” he told her plainly. “Just ‘cause I said what I said don’t mean ya owe me somethin’. We can sit here and stare at the wall all night, I don’t care.”

Roxie tilted her head thoughtfully as she considered his words. “Say it again.”

Riff didn’t have to ask what she meant. “I love you.”

“And I love you too,” Roxie reassured him with a bright smile.

Riff sighed softly, and he looked deeply into her eyes. “But do ya really wanna do this?”

Roxie responded by fiddling with the hem of his shirt as she stood up and started to kiss his neck, just below his ear. Her cool fingers brushed against his skin and Riff had to fight to keep himself composed.

Riff leaned back away from her affections, and when he did, he heard her let out a small frustrated huff. He looked down at the floor just behind her, worried about what he might see in her eyes after his next words. “I need to hear ya say it, Roxie.”

Roxie put light fingers on his chin and forced her to look at him. He didn’t fight her. “I want this,” she swore, and Riff believed her full heartedly. “I want you, Riff.”

Riff tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest at her words.

“Do you want this?” Roxie asked him then, sounding a bit uncertain herself.

In response to her question, Riff gave Roxie a chaste kiss on the lips before turning his attention to one of her shoulders. He slowly slid the strap of her dress down her arm, fully exposing it to his view. His eyes met hers once again, and they locked with hers as much as was possible as he leaned down and pressed light kisses along her exposed collarbone.

“Yes... yes... and yes,” he whispered between kisses, feeling one of her hand’s come up to tangle in his hair while the other still lingered near the bottom of his shirt.

Riff pulled back suddenly. Before Roxie could protest, he lifted his shirt up and off of him. After the garment was off, he threw it blindly across the room as Roxie’s fingers began to run over his bare chest.

Riff smiled and kissed her once again. He was so lost in the moment, he didn’t notice that Roxie had turned him around. She grabbed his hands and eagerly began to lead him over towards the bed. Once they reached it, their legs buckled upon contact and the two of them fell upon the mattress with a soft thud. Riff was taken by surprise, but he managed to catch himself on his hands before he completely fell on top of Roxie.

She gave him a mischievous smirk. Her hair was splayed out wildly around her head, and Riff couldn’t help but smile down at her in amusement.

“Are ya sure sure, Roxie?” Riff asked once again, though his tone was lighter and more playful than before.

Riff let out a laugh as Roxie placed her hands around her neck and forced him down to her level. His arms, which were bent awkwardly, nearly screamed in protest, but Riff paid them no mind. Their faces were close and their noses brushed up against each other as one more moment of silence passed between them.

“Less talking, more kissing,” Roxie demanded.

Riff smiled, and he leaned down to capture her lips with his once again.

The chill in Riff’s bones he’d been feeling for the past week melted as their evening commenced.

A/N: Because explicit consent is 🔥🔥🔥 Thank you for reading! 😊 Please feel free to interact if you enjoyed. If you would like to be added to the taglist, please feel free to let me know. The tentative posting date for the next part is Tuesday, April 5. I will post an update if it becomes necessary. UPDATE 4/1: Part 18 status post can be found here.

Taglist: @whisperofsong @disguisedbassethound @lingerasthesmokeoncedid @westsidelegendary @sallymakesstuff @youngteenagehearts @wombtotombx @loverisi @wnygirl2012 @b-bella9 @princessmiaelicia @childesbbyy @amberash05 @robin-jackkelly @eatslothsat @mikefaistgf @acciosiriusblack @jaemsslut4

Part 18

Masterlist

#west side story #west side story 2021 #wss #wss 2021 #west side story fanfiction #west side story fanfic #west side story riff #riff west side story #wss riff #riff fanfiction #riff fanfic #riff imagine #slowburn #slow burn #angst #oc jet #west side story riff x oc #mike faist

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