#i do have a shelf i could put some of the stuff on temporarily but pkmn + yw collections are higher priority unfortunately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

victorluvsalice · 4 months ago

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Hi everyone – welcome to another "I updated the Chill Valicer Save farmhouse a bit" update! Because the trio had money and I had some stuff that I wanted to do to their home – specifically, making the new barn basement area nicer; making the kitchen a little bigger to fit more stuff in it yet AGAIN; and updating the séance room above the kitchen because if the kitchen got wider, that had to get wider as well. How did this all go? Let me take you through it room by room:

-->Kitchen – I did indeed manage to make the kitchen wider! I mentioned last week that my attempt to widen it by making the back porch bigger and then trying to pull the room out toward the greenhouse was stymied by the fact that this would screw up a bunch of stuff upstairs (notably both the séance room and the upstairs hallway, where the stairs are) – but that I thought that if I instead widened it into the gap where the pet obstacle course was, I might be able to pull it off successfully. So that’s what I did –

And it worked pretty well! Had to move a few objects temporarily to keep them from getting dumped into the household inventory (for example, part of the egg collection on the hallway wall outside tried to yeet themselves because I had to place them with MOO), but once I got them out of the way, the widening went off without a hitch. :) So now the kitchen is two tiles wider on the right side! :D How did I fill that space, you ask? Well –

I. I added in more counters and cabinets, natch – which included replacing two of the full-tile wall cabinets with two half-tile ones so I could fit a really nice Cottage Living kitchen shelf (with a cutting board and various large metal kitchen utensils hanging under it) under them beside the oven! What can I say, I thought it looked really great and added a touch of realism. :)

II. I added in some more fun clutter around the oven – the salt and pepper shakers and the Home Chef Hustle spice rack got put upon the new shelf (though I had to use “move objects on” for the spice rack, because for SOME REASON the damn thing doesn’t fit up there normally. It totally fucking SHOULD, I shouldn’t have had to use MOO and then fiddle around with raising and lowering it until I got it onto the shelf in a way that actually looked good, even if it was partially sunken into said shelf, but that is not the world we live in); the big fork and spoon wall decorations that I BELIEVE are base game (may be Dine Out, though) got put over the stove top; and the Horse Ranch and Cottage Living utensil-holder clutter got stuck on the counter beside the fridge, and some Cottage Living canisters underneath the new shelf (so they were all on either side of the stove "within easy reach"). Oh, and I put some canisters of tea by the tea machine in the corner, a cookie jar on the counter near the sink, and made sure Gino the pizza chef was still in a good spot next to the pizza over on the expanded kitchen island. :) It's always nice to clutter up a kitchen and make it feel like it's truly lived in!

III. Speaking of the kitchen island, in addition to making it bigger, I moved it in slightly so it wasn’t crowding the dining table (there’s still plenty of room to maneuver between it and the side counters, fortunately). Gotta make sure there's room for everything!

IV. Along those lines, I ended up fiddling with the placement of a lot of things in this room:

a) I scooched the dining table over so it’s more in line with both the center of the new longer kitchen island and the archway in (gotta make sure things aren’t off-kilter!)

b) I adjusted the placement of the windows on either side of the room slightly so they were a bit farther apart (to match the windows that I adjusted upstairs on the séance room to better accommodate the side tables in there -- see below)

c) I adjusted the placement of the side table with the fruit bowl, ghost candy jar, and picnic basket in front of the window and the plant in the corner accordingly (the old “press ALT to freely place items” tip came in handy there)

d) And I swapped the placement of Alice’s ��Lady and Tramp” flirty painting with the photographs of Smiler at the food stand during the first sale (the painting is now with the other cute cat-and-dog painting she made a little while back above the pet bowls, while the photographs are now on the wall with the side table and the plant)

V. Speaking of the pet bowls, I bought two more pet feeders in yellow and pink after being unable to line the original two up like I wanted against the wall thanks to the newly-adjusted window, and then thinking “hang on, we have four pets anyway, why not just get more to fill in the gaps?”

VI. And, finally, I bought the trio a popcorn maker, a second ice cream maker, and a dishwasher, because the whole point of making the room bigger was to fit in a couple more small appliances for them to use at their leisure! The popcorn maker is on the kitchen island next to the waffle maker, while the ice cream maker is on the counter next to the sink, above the new dishwasher. I’m not sure if the popcorn maker will stay in the kitchen or end up in Smiler’s inventory, as my primary use for it would be for food sales, but I wanted them to have one just in case! Maybe I should make them have a movie night with popcorn one day. :)

-->Séance Room – Of course, widening the kitchen meant widening the séance room above it – I briefly considered just putting a chunk of roof on the new little “lip,” but I thought it might look weird, and I didn’t want to lose the windows on that side of the room. So I had to rejigger that a bit to make sure the séance table was nice and centered in the middle of the room – which meant adjusting the position of the door into the room (so it opened up with a good view of the séance table) and the windows on either side (so I could then scoot the sideboard over slightly and make sure THAT was properly lined up with the table as well). Which also meant fussing with the fossil display out in the upstairs hallway, as it didn't quite fit properly into its usual spot anymore when I moved the door. I ended up swapping Alice's apple painting that was next to the cat tree with the Island Living shelves containing their little Sulani shell collection that were next to the stairs and the ladder up to the attic so I could move the fossil shelves over closer to the cat tree, then put the Sulani shelves on the other side of the doorway since that felt more “balanced” to me. *shrug* I mean, I think it works!

Anyway, once that was done, I added in more candle chandeliers to the séance room to make sure the space was adequately lit (when we’re not using the sacred candles for “the vibes” anyway) and moved over Victor’s curio cabinet with his unused familiar orbs to line it up better with the table. And then I started redecorating the new, larger space, which... *grimace* Oh, cripes, it took SOOO much time, especially with me trying to figure out what I wanted to do with Alice's crystal collection and how I wanted to display the specter gifts the gang have gotten (like Soul Scraps and Specter Sips) and what other cool knickknacks I wanted to put in there. But, after a looot of fiddling, I FINALLY got the room into a state I like. Or at least that I’m reasonably happy with for now. Going clockwise around the room from the door, we have –

I. Alice’s mediation corner with her stool, the fancy Werewolves moon mirror, and the three pictures she took of one of the gang’s trips into the Magic Realm in the left corner

II. A Paranormal Stuff sideboard between the two windows with the fancy palmistry hand that keeps Guidry away, a Vampires bird skull under glass, and a cute Werewolves multicolored mushroom terrarium on it, with a Vampires Gothic shelf over it with the Werewolves crescent-moon salt lamp and two Specter Sips upon it (one empty, one full – unfortunately the Paranormal Stuff bohemian shelf that was previously there no longer fit above the sideboard when I started fiddling and adding new stuff to display, so I had to change it out)

III. A display wall along the back consisting of two fancy Vampires urns (in the two black-and-white swatches) atop Paranormal Stuff accent tables (in blue and gold) in each corner, then two white fancy display cabinets from Crystal Creations containing the Soul Scraps the gang have collected flanking the spare broom Victor got and the Realm of Magic curio cabinet with Victor’s collected familiar orbs in the center. What can I say – I liked the look of the Crystal Creations cabinets, and they seemed to contain the Soul Scraps the best! (Though I did have to MOO one of the cabinets into place, because FOR SOME REASON the game kept insisting it was intersecting with another object ON A BLANK WALL. *huff* Sims 4 sometimes, I swear...)

IV. The painting Alice did on one of their trips into the Magic Realm on the right-hand wall, next to another sideboard-and-shelf combo mirroring the one on the left-hand wall – the shelf on this side is empty, but the sideboard has the cool Crystal Creations terrarium, one of the Bizarre Idols the gang has picked up, and the Paranormal Stuff mini-cowplant terrarium. I thought they were cute and gave the right vibes!

V. And then in the right-hand corner by the door is the display shelves for the special Werewolves artifacts collection, as before

*nods* I think this all looks good and gives the right vibes for the room. Though you probably noticed something missing from the séance room now – the crystal collection! What did I do with that? Well…

#sims 4 #the lazy save #builds #aka 'Victoria cannot leave well enough alone when it comes to this house'#look it's all Home Chef Hustle Crystal Creations and Horse Ranch's fault okay?#all three of those packs included cool new decorations and cool new activities that I wanted my Sims to try out #(plus inspired me to use older stuff more often like the ice cream maker and popcorn maker)#which necessitated things like making the kitchen bigger #and adding a basement under the barn #the more stuff they accumulate #the more space they require!#it's simple logic!#anyway I am pretty happy with the kitchen and seance room remodels #I really do love putting all sorts of fun clutter in a kitchen to make it look more functional #and that shelf I stumbled across is great :D #will be forever bitter that the spice rack apparently DOES NOT fit up there properly #but other than that no notes #and I am very happy with the new displays and such in the seance room #maybe they don't use this room very much but at least it's got the right look to it ya know?#makes all the difference :)#queued

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antasmas · 5 years ago

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I should really post my MM merch collection one day

#when i have a proper shelf to display everything!#i've been collecting mm merch for around 2-3 years now (when i first got into it) and have been slowly adding more things to it #mostly wily number stuff (a bunch of it is mm7 related since it is my favourite classic game)#some of the manga + archie comics #and a couple of customs #i do have a shelf i could put some of the stuff on temporarily but pkmn + yw collections are higher priority unfortunately #btw sorry for posting so much right now! i'm in one of those moods

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years ago

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She Likes Blues- PASTEL Blues (2)

A/N: Because I love you and this brilliant concept Isa. So i decided to expound on the au... a little. Concept creds go to the ever brilliant @tanuki-pyon

This is a continuation to one of my drabbles. Treat it as chap 1. It’s just gonna be more dumb au stuff so... ayt.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi.

She Likes Blues- PASTEL Blues (2): It’s A Date!

“I’m your roommate.” Akko managed to lamely state.

The girl in front of her stared at her hand a good, long while making Akko grow more and more nervous by the second.

“Um...miss?”

“Oh, apologies. Yes, yes... Um...” Temporarily placing her phone down on a nearby shelf, Akko watched roommate extend a hand which she gladly took. “Diana.” She curtly said.

“A-Akko.”

“Charmed.” Diana said sweetly, taking her hand back. She gave Akko a quick once-over, and the brunette nervously shuffled her socked feet along the carpet.

“Mi-miss D-Diana?”

“Hmm...” The girl tapped her cheek thoughtfully with a manicured index finger, sucking in the side of her cheek before her expression changed into a friendly smile. Clapping her hands together, she asked, “Ever tried pastel pink or a salmon color?”

Akko stared at her, bewildered.

“What?”

“Clothes. Wearing those colors. Have you ever worn mini-skirts or a sundress? Hmm... Maybe we could find something that would suit you... would Hannah match your size?”

“Um... Miss Diana...?”

“But Barbara might have some nice colors that would match your complexion as well.”

What was... going on?

“You’re ‘all-black’ style looks lovely and all, love-”

‘Love?!’

“But I do believe you could pull off some of the most gorgeous colors, don’t you think so?” Diana asked her, walking forward to lightly pat her cheek. “Okay?”

“...o-okay?” Akko went along with her pace, still not registering what was going on.

“Perfect!” Diana cheered, planting a chaste smooch on Akko’s other cheek before bidding her goodbye with a wave of her fingers. “It’s a date!”

“Date...” Akko repeated blankly, hand touching the place where warm lips had just blessed her. “Date... Date?!” Akko screeched, fingers running up to pull at her hair, trying to prove to her that she wasn’t deliriously dreaming.

[“Oh wow! You just scored a date! Real quick too! Um... congrats, my baby?”]- Her phone sounded from her pocket, and Akko flew inches off the floor in surprise.

“MAMA?!” Had she not hung up?! Wait... did that mean that... her mother had listened in on the entire conversation?! Wait! NO! That couldn’t... this couldn’t... Her heart suddenly picked up speed for a different reason, the organ pounding excruciatingly in her chest. Her mind ran a mile a minute in anxiety and panic.

She wanted to cry, to throw up. Her throat was so dry and painful.

Her mama had heard that. Sure she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary... had she?

‘Calm down, Akko. Calm down. She might not have thought of it as anything weird. Yeah. Nothing weird. Of course. Except for my very female roommate setting us up on a date.’

Akko took erratic, deep breaths.

‘Oh but that doesn’t mean anything, right? It’s not like you’d normally think it was anything but a friend date unless you know for sure that your kid was... but my mom doesn’t- ’

Wait, but mothers knew these types of things, right? What if she had pieced together Akko’s reaction and figured it all out on her own?

Years of trying to hide it and... but maybe Akko was just that bad at hiding it. And her mom now knew.

Akko hadn’t even told her on her own that she was...

[“Akko-chan? Are you there?”]

No... she... how would she... what would her mom...

“Mama... I’m... I’m sor-”

[“My sweet baby, listen. Listen to Mama for a sec, okay?”]

Akko whimpered, nodding despite her mom not being able to see her.

It was too late. Her mom clearly knew now. Obviously. There was no way she didn’t. She was now going to confront Akko. She was going to tell her, even if it was with a sweet voice, that Akko was in the wrong, and that maybe she’d have to go into that strange therapy session Amanda complained to her about last week. And then she’d say she was disappointed, and that would hurt Akko more than any other thing in the world-

[“Baby, just please be sure to bring her home and introduce her to me during vacation, okay? She sounds like a lovely girl.”]

“...eh?”

[“I love you, my little Akko-chan.”]

Akko felt herself tear up, clutching her phone close in disbelief and incomprehension.

“Mama?” She called out in a hoarse voice, trying to grasp at straws of reality that she suddenly couldn’t fathom.

[“Hai~?”]

Akko sniffed, harshly wiping away her tears on her sweater arm.

“I love you, mama.” She sobbed, trying her best not to outright wail.

[“Mama loves you most.”]

Like a dam, her emotional barrier broke, spilling out in teary mumbles and sobs.

Was it supposed to be this easy? Or was she just so incredibly blessed?

She continued to wail into her phone mic for the next few minutes or so, listening to her mother tell her random stories about geese and laughing at how silly her cries sounded.

She really did adore her mother.

After about fifteen minutes of a breakdown however, a different tune broke through the air. Even her mother noticed it, immediately asking what it was.

“I... don’t know, Ma.” Akko responded, looking around the room to find the source of the grossly cutesy music that certainly didn’t belong to her. “A ringtone?”

And then she spotted it, on the shelf. A glammed-up phone strap, and a case with ears-

“Oh, hell on earth... It’s my roommate’s phone.” Akko accidentally said. She heard her mother belt out a hearty laugh.

[“Well, then I guess you should do what you have to.”] She said.

“Huh? What do you mean? Pick it up?” Akko asked, unsure.

[What?! No! Wait... actually, maybe you should.”] Mrs. Kagari muttered.

“Eeehh?”

[“Hurry! And put it on speaker in case it’s some weirdo!”]

Feeling the urgency in her mother’s tone, Akko felt compelled to pick up, holding the glittery device to her ear, and trying her best not to sound awkward or stupid for her roommate’s sake.

“Hello? Um... the owner of this phone currently-”

[“Oh, is this Akko?”]

“Y-yes! This is indeed, um, Akko... who is... conversing... with you.” She squeaked out. She could hear her mother facepalm on the other line.

[“Oh perfect! Hi! Um, this is Diana. Sorry about inconveniencing you. I was a little foolish and forgot my phone, it seems. Sorry for calling. I was just making sure that I hadn’t actually lost it along the way.”]

“Oh. Oh wow, that’s... that would have been terrible.” Akko responded stiffly. She could just hear her mother’s shame from across the ocean. It wasn’t like she had taught her how to flirt or anything!

[“Yes, indeed it would have.”] She heard Diana’s sweet giggling on the other end, and her heart soared. [“I’m so glad it’s with you, though- in safe hands.”]

Akko was so glad Diana couldn’t see her stupid grin. “Me-me too! I’m... I’m glad too! For you!”

[“You are terrible at this.”] Akko barely heard her mother groan.

“Um... s-so... do you want me to... bring your phone over to where you are or something?” Akko asked, clutching the phone securely in hand.

[“Oh! Oh, dear no. Please don’t feel bothered. I just wanted to check if it was okay. B-but... if it’s not an inconvenience to you...”]

Akko found her bashfulness quite cute. Like everything else about Diana.

[“If you don’t bring the lady her phone, I will disown you.”]

Her mom could be terrible sometimes.

“I’ll... I’ll bring you your phone, no worries. It’s no biggie... um... just tell me where you are and I’ll head on over.” Akko said, grabbing a notepad to take down the address.

[“Really? Oh thank you! Thank you so much! You’re a darling, Akko.” Diana responded cheerily, dictating the directions for Akko to take to get to her. [“Again, you are such a sweetheart.”]

“No, not at all.” Akko chuckled awkwardly. “Anyone would do this.” She shyly replied.

[“Oh, not at all, sweetie. You’d be surprised.”]

Akko blushed at the pet name, already muting out her mother’s teasing giggles.

[“Tell you what, once you get here, I’ll treat you to lunch. How about that? Oh, and while we’re at it, we could just do our little date! What say you, darling?”]

Akko was reaching the cap of her shyness threshold here. She didn’t know if she could take anymore.

“S-Sure.” She was still afraid to come off as rude to her brand new roommate though. Wanting to make a good impression, she figured she’d accept.

That’s all there was to it.

[“Brilliant! See you soon, love~ Bye.”]

At the dial tone that ended the call, Akko walked over to her bed, grabbed a pillow... and screamed.

[“Send me pics, love you!”]- She heard in the background before her mom hung up as well.

Akko screamed again.

#diakko #dianakko #lwa #little witch academia #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #pastel diana #fanfic #au

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noladyme · 4 years ago

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You and Me makes Three - Part 1

Lyla moved to San Fransisco for work, and for a fresh start. The standoffish guy across the hall of her sublet peaks her interest in more ways than one; and when he finally opens up, she jumps at the chance to get to know him; and whatever it is his dark secret is.

Eddie Brock x OC Lyla

TW: smut and fluff

I’d found the sublet on craigslist; which I came to regret, when meeting the current tenant. Ziggy – as the guy called himself – turned out to be a long haired ultra-deuche; who’d spent most of our first meeting looking down my top, and talking about his upcoming tour of Illinois, with his band; Dirty Riders. I’d had my share of adventures with guys in bands; but in Ziggy’s case, I could literally smell the perfume from the chick he’d probably banged the night before.

After spending 20 minutes trying to distract me from the task at hand; I finally got him back on track, and we’d come to an agreement on the rent for the 3 months I’d be using his place. It was steep, but after having landed the job at a private school – and having been asked to start the week after – I needed a home; if only temporarily, while I looked for something else.

With most of my stuff in storage; all I had with me the day I was supposed to move in, was a couple of suitcases; and three boxes of essentials – like my books, pens and notes. And of course, my computer – my lifeline.

The neighborhood wasn’t the greatest; so, when I realized the door phone wasn’t working, and the Zigster wasn’t answering his cell, I was lightly panicking. I was standing alone on a street in a new city; with my most valued belongings, and no way to get out of there; as the cab that had brought me, took off as soon as the driver got my last box out of the trunk.

I kept calling Ziggy, and pounding the button for the apartment; but nothing came of it. I sat down on the doorstep, and was just about ready to cry; when a guy in his 30’s, wearing a casual leather jacket, walked up to the door with a key. “Excuse me”, he muttered, pulling out his keys. I looked up at him. It was hard making out his eye-color – blues, greens and browns meshed together to make a color all of its own. I found myself caught up in trying to distinguish the different shades in them; when I realized that he was about to unlock the door, and walk in.

“Hey”, I said. “Do you live here?”. He sent me a friendly but reserved smile; making me also notice his full lips; and the way his front teeth were just a little bit crooked – just enough to make him look interesting. “Yeah”, he said. “I do… Can I help you?”. I let out a relieved smile. “I live here too”, I said. “Or, I’m supposed to… I’m subletting from Ziggy”. He raised his brows. “You’re a friend of Ziggys?”. “Not exactly”, I scoffed. “He’s leaving town for a few months, and is letting me use his place… but the door-phone isn’t working, and he isn’t picking up his cell”.

The man seemed to be having an internal dialogue, before coming to a conclusion. “Yeah. Ok… come on in”. “Thank you!”, I smiled; almost crying in relief. I picked up my suitcases, as he unlocked the door, and carried them inside; after which I got the first two boxes – the man holding the door for me. I thought I heard him mutter “Fine!” under his breath, before he stepped outside, grabbing the last box for me. “Oh crap! Careful, that’s heavy”, I managed to say; before he groaned from the weight of the many books, I’d stored in it. ��Shit, no kidding”, he grunted.

He put the box down just inside the door. “Do you need help up the stairs?”, he asked; obviously hoping for me to say no. I smiled and shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks!”, I said. I stuck out my hand to shake his, and told him my name. “I’m Eddie”, he answered. “I guess we’re neighbors. I live across the hall from Ziggy”. “Thanks for the help, Eddie”, I grinned. “I’m Lyla… by the way”. “Nice to meet you”, he muttered. He walked up the stairs, sending me an inquisitive look over his shoulder.

Five trips up and down the stairs later; I finally had all my things outside Ziggys door. I tried calling him again; and heard a phone ring behind the door. You’ve got to be kidding me! I banged the door. “Ziggy! I’m here”, I yelled. “Open up, you dick”, I added, below my breath. I looked behind me, at what was apparently Eddies door; and saw something move behind the peephole.

I banged the door again. “Ziggy?”. Someone coughed and moved around some stuff behind the door; and Ziggy finally opened; looking at me with a seriously hungover expression. “Fuck. What’s today?”, he rasped. “Wednesday”, I said exasperatedly. His eyes widened. “Shit, beautiful. I’m so sorry!”, he said smilingly. “Come one in!”. “My name is Lyla”, I reminded him, and stepped in behind him. “Lyla-licious”, Ziggy sniggered; making me want to barf violently.

The studio apartment was, if possible, worse than I had imagined. A heavy smell of incense, weed and stale beer hung over the room; and a collection of bongs shaped like female torsos sat on a shelf. Ziggy had decorated the wall over his bed with posters of his own band.

Ziggy scrambled to get his things together. Apparently, he’d not packed up his things for the upcoming tour of steakhouses, coffeeshops and dive-bars throughout Illinois. “Let me just get this…”, he smirked at me; before rubbing himself as close as possible to me to get to a pack of xxl-condoms on a shelf in the kitchen area. “You know, if you need it, you’re welcome to hang around after I get back”. “I’m gonna be pretty focused on getting something permanent set up”, I smiled; swallowing bile. “Absolutely, yeah. That’s so cool”, he said; leaning against the counter I was standing by. “Just let me know, ok?”. He put his hand on my shoulder, and squeezed it. “Sure…”, I said, and stepped back; going to check out the rest of the space.

It was one room – combined livingspace/bedroom/kitchen. A small bathroom with – thank God! – a bathtub; which was going to need some serious cleaning before I’d even put a foot in it. But it was mine… at least for the next three months. It’s not a lot, I thought to myself. But I can work with this.

Ziggy seemed to have his stuff packed up; and was standing in the doorway to the small bathroom; blocking my exit. He had a guitarcase casually hanging from one shoulder. “So… I’m ready to go”, he smirked. I nodded and half smiled. “Keys?”, I said. “Right. Here…”. He handed me a set of keys “If I get any mail…”. “I’ll let you know; once a week, like we agreed”. “Yeah”, he smirked and nodded; looking me over like I was edible. “So, I’ll call you?”. I swallowed bile again. “Yup”, I said, and reached out my hand to shake his. He took it; and held on to it; letting his thumb stroke my fingers. I will tear off your arm if you don’t let go, I thought to myself.

“Take care, Lyla”, he said; and winked at me; before finally moving away from the doorframe; and grabbing his bags to leave. “Shit, I forgot. The guy across the hall… he’s kind a of weird. Be careful, ok?”. “Sure…”, I muttered, and walked after him to the door, closing it behind him. I let out an audible sigh of relief, and put on the door chain.

---

I opened the windows, and got to cleaning. An old ashtray shaped like an avocado, turned out to be an actual shell of an avocado; and for the third time that day, I almost vomited. Riffling through some old dusty cd’s of Ziggys, I found a Fleetwood Mac album. “Yes!”, I cried out. At least you have that going for you, Ziggy, I thought – until I realized he’d never unwrapped the cellophane around the cover. I unwrapped it myself, put on the album; and skipped to my favorite song; singing along to the lyrics. “… well, I’ve been afraid of changing, ‘cuz I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older…”.

Someone knocked on the door. For a second, I was afraid Ziggy had changed his mind about touring, and had come back. I opened the door slightly, leaving the chain on. Outside stood Eddie. “Hi”, I said cautiously. He seemed warmer. “Hey. I think you dropped this in the hallway”. He was holding one of my notebooks. I unlatched the chain, and opened the door fully, taking the book from him. “Weird”, I said. “I could swear I’d packed it in the bottom of one of the boxes”. Eddie smiled nervously. “Well… maybe it jumped out”, he said. “Maybe”, I chuckled. “Thanks”.

He lingered. “The music…”, he said. “I’m sorry. Is it too loud?”, I asked. He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine”, he said. “Just different than what usually comes out of this apartment”. I laughed. “Yeah… The Zigster seems to have a very specific taste”. “Yeah?”, Eddie smiled. “You should see his collection”, I said. He nodded and smiled crookedly. “Maybe… sometime”.

I noticed the door to his apartment was open. It seemed like the mirror opposite of mine. Just less disgusting. I met Eddies eyes. I still couldn’t figure out the color of them – all I could conclude was that they were… kind. I would have lost myself in them, if he hadn’t turned to walk back into his own place. “Uhm, Eddie?”, I said. He looked at me again. “Could you point me in the direction of a good… grocery store?”. Idiot… He scratched his head. “Yeah, I mean… I do most my shopping at Mrs. Chens, down the street”, he said. “Just don’t tell her you know me. She’ll try to sell you meditation tapes and scented candles”. I laughed. “A scented candle wouldn’t hurt this place”, I said. “Ziggy left behind some pretty gnarly smells”. He laughed. “He’s a… special guy”. Our eyes met again for a moment. Eddie seemed to want to say something else, but then his eyes moved, as if he was listening to something. “I gotta go”, he said; and went into his apartment, closing the door. He's strange, I thought. But something inside me wanted to figure him out.

---

The next few days went by without much happening. I finally finished cleaning my new living-space – except for the mattress. I couldn’t get myself to sleep on it, after I’d taken of the old bedding left behind by Ziggy; and finding quite a few stains I didn’t even want to touch with rubber-gloves – so I’d slept on the couch so far.

Once, I’d run in to Eddie by the mail slots; exchanging a friendly helloand a smile. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the door, carrying a messenger-bag and a motorcycle helmet. I noticed him opening his own slot. It had E. Brock, written with bold letters on it. Watching him walk away down the hall to the door; I couldn’t help but bite my lip and smile. He moved like he was late for something; but at the same time didn’t want anyone to tell him when he was supposed to get there. Like some kind of internal struggle, I just wanted to unwrap and explore.

Saturday morning, I woke up early for once, craving coffee and carbs. I had neither of those things in the kitchen; so, I got dressed in my favorite jeans and a light, loose t-shirt, to head out and track something down. As I was still new to San Francisco, I wasn’t sure about how the weather would be in October. I brought my short leather jacket. Just in case. I put a notebook and a pen in my shoulder-bag, and was off.

Outside the building I grabbed a free paper to have something to read. I took a streetcar towards the Mission District; enjoying the sunshine and smells from food carts we passed. Hunger was about to take me over; and I opened my paper, to distract myself. The headlines were mostly fluff stories and ads; except for a couple on the murder of a local politician, and animal attacks by the harbor. Some drug dealers had been found with their heads bitten clean off. I winced at the thought; before turning the page, and a new header caught my eye.

Home robberies in Downtown Oakland – Gangs or criminals on city payroll? - Story by Eddie Brock.

I was surprised for a second. He didn’t strike me as a journalist in the traditional sense.

The story was mostly an opinion piece, but was based heavily on facts he’d dug up from interviews with victims, and homeless youth in the area of the robberies. Eddie was questioning the arrests made on young gang members for the crimes; and in stead suggesting that city-leadership was paying crime syndicates to commit the robberies, to be able to gentrify the area. If he was right; this was a big story; so, I was finding it strange to see the story in a free newspaper.

I arrived near Mission Dolores Park; having read about a nice, upmarket coffee shop there; with donuts that the blogger had written were to absolutely die for. They turned out to be less so. After standing in line for 30 minutes; I was handed a stale cup of organically sourced, fairtrade coffee; and a donut that was hard enough to break a window. Stepping outside the shop; I decided to give it a chance; and bit in to it – instantly almost choking on the floury consistency of the pastry.

“They’re not very good, are they…”. I turned to face Eddie; standing with an amused smile on his face. “Nope”, I answered, and spat out the donut-bite into a napkin. “Sorry…”, I said embarrassedly. “No worries”, he chuckled. “If I’d known you were coming here, I’d have told you. They’re vegan…”. I raised my brows at him. “Shit, sorry! Are you vegan?”, he asked. “No”, I shook my head and chuckled. “But I’ve for sure had better vegan food than this”. He sighed and seemed to ponder something. “Come on”, he said, and gestured for me to follow him.

We walked down a narrow street; passing smaller shops and street vendors – some of which seemed to know Eddie, and sent him friendly nods. “You’re popular around here”, I said; walking next to him. He chuckled in response. “I dunno. I prefer buying from smaller shops. Personal touch, you know?”. “I get it”, I said. “Locally sourced, and eco-friendly; right?”. He shrugged. “Something like that”.

He stopped by a small storefront; displaying pride-flags and caricatures of politicians in the window. I knew already that I would like this place. The man behind the counters face lit up. “Yo, Ed! Back so soon, man?”, he grinned. “I know you got that parasite thing, but seriously…”. Eddie looked uncomfortable for a second. “Yeah, Don… this is my new neighbor”. He introduced me, avoiding my eyes. “She went to La Boulange”. Don inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Yikes… New in town?”, he asked. I chuckled and nodded. “Coffee black?”, Eddie asked me. I nodded. “Give us two blacks and a couple of glazed yeast”. “I’ll add some sprinkles for the lady”, Don winked friendlily. Eddie groaned. “Just… don’t make them the green ones”, he said. “I was high for 12 hours straight last time”. I laughed out loud.

We left the store; Eddie politely having paid for our coffees and donuts. Through the window I saw Don point at me, and give Eddie the thumbs up and a wink. “He’s a character”, I smiled. “He sure is”, Eddie answered. His voice was deliciously raspy, and watching him speak I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble his lips could get in to with mine. I had to shake myself out of the thought. “Thanks for this”, I said. “You haven’t tasted it yet”, he said.

I bit in to my pastry. It was carb-heaven in my mouth. “Oh. Oh my God!”, I said, mouth full. “I know, right?”, Eddie smiled. I raised my brows and nodded fiercely. “It’s why I go out of my way to come here every morning”. “Don’t journalists work all over?”, I asked, covering my mouth with my hand, as I was still chewing. He scrunched his brows at me in question. I pulled out the newspaper from my bag. “Oh, yeah”, he said. “I do freelance stuff mostly; but I have a position at a newspaper downtown. Used to write for The Globe”. “New York?”, I asked. “So, why move to San Francisco?”. He shrugged. “I lost the position for… being what I am. An honest reporter”.

I half smiled. “So, a new life”. “Yeah, and a girl”, he admitted. “My fiancée”. My heart dropped; and I did my best not to show it on my face. “Oh! You’re engaged? That’s great!”. “Not really”, chuckled. “I messed that up too… by being what I am”. “An honest reporter…”, I muttered. “And at times a little too cutthroat about it”. He sighed. “It’s good though. She’s good. I’m good. We’re good”.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why am I telling you all this stuff?”, he said and laughed. “Are you sure you’renot a reporter?”. “Nah. I’m just an elementary schoolteacher”, I said. “I do write, though. But not articles”. “What?”, he said earnestly. I shook my head. “Another time. I’m sure you have somewhere to be”. He looked at his watch. “Shit, yeah!”, he said. “Sorry, I gotta run”. “It’s fine. Thanks again”.

He nodded and smiled. “You take care, teach’”, he said. “See you around”. He walked away; scratching his head, and looking back at me a couple of times. I took my time enjoying my donut and coffee; and walked in the opposite direction. Eddie – Be still my beating heart.

---

I spent the rest of the morning trying to map out the best way to and from work. As I was starting the next Monday morning, the nerves were getting to me. They’re just 5-yearolds, I kept telling myself. 5-yearolds attending a private school funded by their very rich parents; and some pretty serious sponsors from Silicon Valley. And me without my degree from MIT…

I stopped at Mrs. Chens for some light groceries. Although I’d loved Don’s donuts – and his coffee had been heavenly – I was to anxious to see myself making my way all the way to the Mission District the next day; and I always needed caffeine and access to some kind of breakfast in the morning. The lady behind the counter – Chen, I assumed – seemed nice, though a bit standoffish; and quickly checked out my coffee, bacon, eggs, cheese; and other essentials. “You’re new here”, she said. “How did you know?”, I asked. “I usually only get regulars”, she answered, and narrowed her eyes at me. “I moved in down the street. My neighbor recommended your shop”, I smiled. “Who?”, she demanded. “Eddie…”, I answered timidly. Her face instantly became warmer. “He’s a good boy”, she said. “Tell him to pic up my cousins latest cd. It’ll do him good. As well as his parasite”. That parasite thing again. Weird. I thanked her, grabbed my stuff; and left the store.

I made my way back to the apartment; cranked up the Fleetwood, and danced it out for a while. I’d always done that; when I needed to get something out of my system. It was better than drinking myself into oblivion – and I was out of whiskey.

I was completely oblivious to anything around me, when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned around, arms in the air; and almost died from embarrassment. The door was open; and in the opening stood Eddie.

“Sorry, it was open”, he said; trying to stifle a smile. “Ziggy had a crazy ex kick it down once. It’s always needed an extra push and pull to close properly, since then”. I nodded, blushing. He held up a carton of eggs. “Chen said you forgot this”, he said. “Thanks…”, I said, taking the pack from him. I grimaced. “So… this is embarrassing”. He laughed. “What? The eggs, or the dancing?”, he chuckled. “Ha, ha. Laugh it out”, I said, stifling a smile. “I was enjoying the view”, he said; and glint to his eyes – before grimacing himself. “Sorry… that was… probably crossing a line”. “It’s fine… you’re fine…”, I said; realizing what I’d just said. “Good, I mean. Shit… I do this to clear my head, sometimes. Dance. It relaxes me”.

He laughed. “I just got back from… a thing”, he said. “I need to clear my head a bit as well. Was gonna take a ride up to Coit Tower”. I smiled; my blushing beginning to fade. “That sounds nice”, I smiled. He exhaled. “Yeah… do you wanna come?”. My jaw dropped. “Uh… yeah. Sure. I’d like that”, I said. What the hell, Eddie? Are you asking me out? “Great”, he smiled. “I was gonna take my bike; are you good with that?”. “I don’t have a bike”, I said. He chuckled. “Not that kind of bike”. Right. The motorcycle helmet. “And now I feel like an idiot”, I muttered. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve met the biggest idiots in media, politics and sports; and you look nothing like them”, he said. “You do look like someone who needs to get out of this place for a while”. I smiled; grabbed my jacket; and followed him out the door – making sure it was properly shut behind me.

Eddie grabbed two helmets from his apartment; giving me another chance peak into his place. It smelled nice. Like tater tots and musky cologne. I didn’t know why, but suddenly it was my favorite smell. “Let’s go”, Eddie said; handing me one of the helmets; and we made our way down the stairs.

Outside the building stood a motorcycle. It was clearly well cared for. Eddie got on it, and put on his helmet; gesturing for me to get on behind him. “You should hold on”, he said. I searched for something to grab; and he took my wrists; pulling my arms around his waist. Wow. Ok. Firm. “You good?”, he asked. “Yeah”, I squeaked. He chuckled behind his helmet. “Sit tight, teach’”. He started the bike, and revved the engine; before taking off. “Oh my God”, I yelped; feeling his body shake in laughter in front of me.

I was convinced he took the steepest roads; scaring the shit out of me for the first few miles – before I finally got comfortable behind him. I relaxed my body; and let myself enjoy the view of the city in the dusk – and how close I was to Eddies warm body. I felt his calm breathing; and matched it – soon feeling completely relaxed. We hit a bump, making the bike jump a bit; and I laughed in glee; hearing him laugh along with me.

The drive was over way to soon for my liking. We’d made our way up Telegraph hill; and I got off the bike, taking of my helmet. “You liked that, huh?”, Eddie grinned at me. “Yeah, it was fun!”, I smiled. He looked at me; almost in wonder. “Was that your first time on a bike?”. “I tried it once, for like five minutes; when I was a kid, but kind of. Yeah”, I admitted. “I couldn’t tell”, he smirked sarcastically. I frowned in mock annoyance. “Shut up”, I said. “You’ve never had a better passenger”. He laughed. “Yeah… come on”.

The sun was going down; and we were too late for tickets to get up the tower; but Eddie seemed unfazed. “There’s a good view over here”, he said; putting his hand on my lower back, to lead me over to a railing. “You gonna push me over this thing?”, I joked. “Nah, would be a poor move for a first date”, he said. I looked at him. “This is a date?”, I smiled. He seemed to have an internal dialogue. “I… don’t know”, he said. “Do you want it to be?” I bit my lip. “Let’s see how good this view is; and I’ll let you know”.

The view was stunning. I could see both the lights of the city as well as the Golden Gate bridge. My jaw dropped at the sight. “Wow…”. Eddie looked at me. “Yeah, it’s pretty special”, he said.

I stepped towards the binoculars; searing my pockets for change. “I don’t have a quarter!”, I heard Eddie whisper. “It’s fine”, I smiled at him. “I can see pretty clear anyway”. He looked me, caught off guard. “Yeah. Sorry…”. I leant against the railing. “I could fall in love with this city”, I proclaimed. Eddie smiled warmly at me, walking up next to me – close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body.

We looked at the views for a while, talking about this and that. I told Eddie about my hometown, and how I’d loved it as well. “So, why did you decide to come here”. “It’s a long story”, I muttered. “Come on, I’ve already seen you dance!”, he chuckled. “You don’t like my dancing?”, I gasped in jest. He smiled. “You really put the oogie in the boogie”, he said. “You’re the most graceful elephant in a porcelain shop, I’ve ever seen”. “So now I’m an elephant?”, I raised a brow at him. He grimaced. “I walked right in to that”, he muttered. “Sorry…”. I smiled at him in forgiveness. “Seriously though. Why’d you make the move?”

I couldn’t help myself. I had to mess with him. “It’s embarrassing”, I said. He smiled encouragingly. “Ever since I was a kid… I’ve always wanted to act. Be in the big movies”. His lips parted, and he looked really uncomfortable. I continued. “So… I decided to give it a shot. Come here; and be near Hollywood, you know?”. I smiled earnestly. “I think I’ve finally got a shot; now that the studios are just down the street”. Eddie looked genuinely sorry for me. “Lyla… I don’t…”, he began. “Eddie…”, I smiled. “I’m kidding”. He exhaled in relief. “Thank God. I really didn’t want to be the one to tell you… You know?”. “I know”, I smirked. “’Cuz we’re a way off from Hollywood here”. I nodded. “About 400 miles. I realize that”. He began laughing, and shook his head. “Is this payback for the elephant thing?”, he said. I shrugged. “Maybe”, I smiled.

He bumped my shoulder with his own. “You’re bad news, darlin’!”, he laughed. “You’re not, though”, I answered. “Tell me; why did your article on those home robberies end up in a free newspaper, instead of some big ass media outlet?”. He sighed. “Not everyone wants to run the hard stories”, he said. “As long as it gets out there…”. I nodded. “I get it”, I said. “Besides, in a free paper the story will get a broader audience, right?”. He shrugged. “I hope so”, he said. “I think it’s an important story”. “Me too”, I agreed.

I told Eddie about my new job. “Private school?”, he grimaced. I laughed. “Yeah, I know”, I said. “Not very socially conscious of me. But the pay is good. And I needed a change”. “What made you move here? The truth this time”, he smiled. “It’s got to be more than the job. You don’t strike me as someone who does things just for money”. I chewed my lip. “I wasn’t in a very good place in my job, or my life”, I admitted.

He looked at me with warm eyes – the color even more indistinguishable in the dusk. I bit my lip; wanting desperately for something to happen. “How’s your head? A bit clearer?”, he said quietly. “Not really…”, I admitted. He let out a quiet laugh, and wrinkled his forehead. “Yeah, me neither”, he muttered. “Can I kiss you? I just feel like I should, you know...?”. I interrupted him by taking his hand. “Yes…”. He nodded and sighed in relief. “Ok. Then… I’m going to do that. Now”. I chuckled; and laced my fingers with his. He stepped closer; putting a lock of my hair behind my ear; before placing his hand on my cheek; letting his thumb stroke my cheekbone. “I like your eyes…”, he said. “Stop talking, Eddie”, I smiled. “Ok”, he said; and finally let his full lips meet mine.

It was soft. Gentle. I parted my lips; letting the tip of my tongue meet his. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me close; and I slid my hands around his neck – letting my fingertips play with the hair there. He pulled his head back a bit; letting our foreheads meet. “You’re… something else”, he smiled. “Something good, I hope”, I answered. “Yeah”, he breathed. “Can I… just… one more time?”, he muttered; before pressing his lips to mine again. I chuckled against his kiss; and returned his enthusiasm. This time there was a bit more heat to our connection. He held on to me; making me stand flush against him. I felt a rush of blood to my core; and my breath hitched.

Someone cleared their throat. Our lips parted, and we saw that we we’re being watched by an elderly couple. “You kids should take that somewhere else”, one of the men said. I flushed red, and Eddie took my hand. “Yeah. Let’s… go”, he smiled.

---

Once back at our building, Eddie gave me a hand to get off his bike. We walked up the stairs together, and paused in front of our doors.

“Thanks for this”, I said. “I needed a distraction”. “I’m a distraction now?”, Eddie asked with a smirk. “A good one”, I chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. “Thanks for the… kissing part. I liked that”, he said. “I did too”, I said, before chewing my bottom lip for a moment. “We could do it again… If you want to”. Eddie looked relieved. “I really do”, he smiled, and took a step closer to me. I met him halfway, and leaned in to him, as he cupped my cheek, and our lips met. He took my bottom lip between his own; softly tugging it – and the repeated the process with the top one. My tongue brushed against his lips, and he met it with his own; letting them reacquaint themselves with each other.

Eddie put his arm around me, and I shivered in pleasure, as our hips met; and I felt his body’s very obvious reaction to our kiss. He let out a soft groan; a sound that sent electricity straight to my core. Grabbing on tighter to me, he almost had my knees give in. In spite of his normally withdrawn and almost aloof demeanor – which he’d relaxed somewhat, curing our evening together – he now seemed like he couldn’t get me close enough; almost hungry in his kiss. I was right there with him; ready to throw all inhibitions out the window, and let him take me in that hallway. I literally had to dig my nails in to my palm, to tear myself from the heated moment.

I put my hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and pushed him away as gently as I could. “I’m sorry… Did I hurt you?”, he asked, in a surprisingly concerned voice. “No, Eddie; I’m…”, I tried. “I don’t always know my own strength. I’ll be more careful…”. Eddie seemed unable to stop talking. I put my fingertips to his soft lips – for a short second considering slipping one into his mouth; just to feel him suck on it – and took a step back. “Eddie, you didn’t do anything wrong. Really!”, I smiled. “But, I have this rule… I don’t have sex on the first date”. Eddie’s eyes widened, and he took a step back himself. “No… Of course! I don’t want you to think, I see you as some kind of… I mean, if you were, there would be nothing wrong with that… People can enjoy sex, that’s completely normal… But I would never expect you to just…” I couldn’t help but smile at his flustered babbling, but in the end, I decided to put him out of his misery. I leaned in, and gave him a short kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight”, I said. “Yeah… goodnight, Lyla”, Eddie said. He watched me as I unlocked my door, and I gave him a final smile, before stepping inside, and closing it behind me.

I leaned against the wall, and sighed frustratedly. It felt like everything below my bellybutton was literally screaming at my brain, saying; open the door, and stop thinking so much, you stupid blob of fat and water! I want to play!. I peeked out of the peephole, and saw Eddie beginning to fish out his keys. He looked like he was having a frustrated conversation with himself. He turned and looked at my door, and I quickly pulled back from the peephole. “You’re being an idiot”, I whispered to myself.

Before I knew it had happened, I had opened my door. “Eddie…”. He dropped his keys in chock, and scrambled to pick them up. His jacket and shirt rode up slightly, letting me get a peek at his tattooed torso; only making my resolve stronger. “Yeah! Hey… Hi”, he said, and got up to stand again. “You know, when I said I’d let you know whether it was a date or not…”. “Yeah?”, Eddie muttered. I chewed my lip, and took a deep breath before continuing. “I decided it wasn’t a date… So, technically, I wouldn’t be breaking my rule”. Eddie looked confused for a moment, before his eyes lit up. “Oh… Oh! You mean…”. He seemed unable to finish the sentence; and I felt my cheeks beginning to burn. “I mean, unless you changed your mind”, I muttered. “No!”, Eddie said, taking a step towards me. “I’d like that”.

I let out a pleased sigh, and was even more relieved when Eddie decided to take the lead, and step over to me; instantly capturing my lips in a warm kiss. I put my arms around his neck, and let myself float away in the pleasurable sensations his soft, full lips sent through my body. I’d known this man for less than a week – I could hardly say that I knew him at all – but everything in that moment was perfect; as if we were made to do this. Eddie pressed me against the doorway to my apartment, and let out a guttural groan when I ran my nails through his short hair. He pressed his tongue into my mouth, and once again I relished in his taste.

I looked out the corner of my eye at the main living area of my sublet, and frowned. I pulled back slightly, to be able to speak. Eddie moved his kisses down to my neck, and I gasped audibly. “Eddie… Oh, god. That’s… No, stop!”, I rasped. He pulled back instantly, and met my eyes. “What?”, he asked. “The bed in there is kind of gnarly… Can we do this at your place?”, I said. “Yeah, of course”, he smiled, and tore himself from me, to run over and open his own door. I closed the door to my own place – giving it that extra yank it needed – and stepped up behind Eddie. He looked at me over his shoulder. “Sorry about the mess", he muttered apologetically, and opened his door.

Eddie’s apartment was cluttered, but not dirty. I could have sworn I saw a few unwashed dishes by the sink, but when I blinked, they were gone; as if a shadow had whisked them away. He had post-it notes hanging with ideas for stories, and a couple that read things like If you eat it, replace it and Pigeons are not food. “Do you have a roommate?”, I asked. Eddie chuckled nervously to himself. “Nah, I… forget things”, he said, and tore down a note reading No roadkill in the tub!.

I decided against asking, and simply made my way over to the couch, letting my finger run along the back of it. “Do you want some coffee? Or a beer?”, Eddie asked, and moved towards the fridge. I bit my lip, and shook my head. “Maybe… after?”, I said, trying for seductive; and failing miserably, when I tripped over a stack of papers on the floor. Before I knew what happened, Eddie was next to me; catching me before I hit the floor. “Wow… you’re fast!”, I said. “I… did track in high school”, he said. “You were all the way over…”, I began.

Eddie pressed his lips to mine, to shut me up, and soon I was forgetting all about the ten feet he’d traversed in less than a second. As quickly as I could, I shed my jacket, and Eddie’s lips once again travelled down my neck. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and couldn’t help put squeeze his biceps; finding them as firm as I’d imagined. As Eddie latched on to my pulse-point, I let out soft moan; and was rewarded with his hands moving down to my butt. Giving them a tight squeeze, he suddenly lifted me up, and made me put my legs around his waist. “Let’s move over here”, he muttered, and walked us over to the bed in the corner; gently setting me down on it.

We both began tugging at each other’s tops at the same time, but after chuckling at each other; we silently decided to take care of our own clothing. After I’d shed my tank-top, I kicked off my sneakers while Eddie took off his boots. We kept eye-contact as much as possible, and I saw nothing but appreciation in his gaze, as he saw me get more and more undressed. I was enjoying the sight of his bare torso as well; wanting nothing more than to bury my face in the soft hairs of his barreled chest. I pulled off my jeans – leaving me in socks, bra and panties – and moved back on the bed. Eddie raised a brow at me, and shook his head; and once he had gotten rid of his own pants, he grabbed my ankle, and pulled me closer. I yelped in glee as my groin met his, and he pushed me to lie back. I managed to reach down, and hook my finger into the waistband of his boxer briefs; but Eddie grabbed my wrist. “We got all night…”, he said. “But…”, I said. “Relax”.

He smirked mischievously, and kneeled down at the foot of the bed, and ran his palms up my thighs; leaving goosebumps in their wake. As he left a soft kiss on the inside of my left thigh, while his fingertips stroked circles on my right one. My breath hitched, as his warm breath travelled up to my warmth. I was ready to scream by the time his soft lips left an openmouthed kiss on my covered folds. “Please…!”, I whined. Eddie chuckled, and I felt his tongue lick a broad stripe against the lace covering my throbbing, most sensitive parts. Once again, I tried to take charge, by grabbing his head; but he grabbed my wrists, and forced them down my sides. “I really don’t want to have to hold you down”, he chided. “I kind of need my hands for what I’m about to do…”. I let out a frustrated groan, and relaxed my arms as much as I could. “Good girl…”, Eddie hummed, and let go of my hands. I threw my arms back, and grabbed for one of the pillows above my head, and dug my fingers in to it, to keep from getting in the way of Eddie’s work on my privates again.

With agonizingly slow movements, Eddie hooked his fingers into my panties, and pulled them down my feet. He held them up with one finger, and gave me another smirk, before flicking them away. They landed over his open laptop, and we both laughed for a moment; before Eddie once again lowered his face. The last thing I saw before throwing my head back in pleasure, was Eddie’s pleased eyes widening at his upcoming feast. His perfect mouth closed around my folds and clit, and he gave me a deep suckle, before flicking his tongue over my clit. “I know…”, he muttered. “Come again?”, I croaked. “I’m just enjoying my meal”, Eddie replied, blushing adorably. “Ok… Uhm… well, contin… Oh my god!”. Eddie had entered me with two fingers, and began moving them in a come-hither motion, while sucking hard at my nub. Letting out a growl against my wetness, Eddie soon had me seeing stars. As his fingers worked on my most sensitive spot inside, his tongue moved in a zigzag pattern between my folds; going up and down, and never forgetting to give my clit a languid stroke when he reached it. I put the pillow over my face, and cried out in pleasure, as Eddie worked me towards a mind shattering orgasm. Everything went white, and I’m pretty sure I floated above the mattress for a few seconds; as if something was lifting me in the air.

I was panting into the pillow and shaking all over, as I came down. “Don’t do that!”, Eddie grunted. “What?”, I muttered through the pillow. Eddie climbed up my body, and pulled it away from my face, looking flustered. “Just… don’t cover your face. I want to see you”, he said. “Ok…”, I said.

We smiled at each other, and kissed again. I could taste myself on his tongue, and enjoyed it more than was proper. Eddie laid down between my legs, and pressed against me; making me leave a wet spot on his boxers, from my still glistening folds. “Let me just get these off”, he smiled, and pulled down his underwear; and letting his erection spring free. I smiled in appreciation, and took a hold of my new friend; gently beginning to stroke it. “That’s… that’s nice”, Eddie said, straining to keep his composure. “A bit harder, please”. I tightened my hold, and received a deep moan in reply. “Condom?”, I asked. “Shit, yeah”, Eddie said, and reluctantly pulled himself out of my grasp. As he got off the bed, and ran over to search one of the drawers in his dresser, I snapped open my bra, and took it off. When he turned around to face me, with a foil packet in his hand, his jaw dropped at the sight of my mounds. “That is… Those are very nice”, he croaked. I chuckled, and pulled off my socks; wanting to be completely naked. “Oh, right!”, Eddie said, and tugged his own socks off, one at a time; losing his balance, and falling on to the bed next to me.

I nabbed the foil packet from his hand, and opened it carefully, pulling out the condom. Straddling Eddies legs, I closed my fingers around the tip of the rubber, and held it to the head of his penis. I rolled it down a little, before lowering my head, and closing my mouth around it; rolling it the rest of the way with my lips. Eddie let out a gasping groan, and looked down at me with wide eyes. Once the condom was all the way down his hardness, I released him from my mouth, and sat up; smiling sweetly. “Where did you learn that?”, he asked. “While you were doing track in high school, I was under the bleachers; doing other kinds of workout”, I shrugged. “It’s an interesting talent”, he chuckled. “I have many more”, I said, raising a brow at him. “I’m sure you do”, Eddie smiled, and grabbed the back of my head; pulling me in for a hungry kiss.

I was flipped onto my back, and Eddie placed himself at my entrance. “Yeah?”, he said, searching my eyes for the go-ahead. “Please”, I said, unable to hide the pleading tone in my voice. Eddie gave me one more deep kiss, and as he did, he pushed himself inside me; bottoming out in my warmth. We both moaned deeply as we were conjoined, and Eddie began moving slowly in and out of me. “You’re so warm… and tight!”, he gasped into my ear. “You fit perfectly”, I panted, and moved my hips to meet his every thrust. “I do, don’t I…”, Eddie chuckled. “Holy… wow”. I locked my leg around his hips, and Eddie grabbed my other leg; hooking his arm under my knee. With ever thrust, the head of his penis brushed against my g-spot; but even just the friction against my nub, and the feeling of his velvety hardness brushing against my walls, were enough to make me whimper in pleasure.

After a while of moving together slowly, I felt my walls beginning to quake; and Eddie’s face lit up. He began thrusting faster and harder, and soon I was crying out in ecstasy again. Every atom in my being felt like it was exploding, and I came around him. “Yes!”, I cried out, and Eddie laughed, seemingly overjoyed that he could make me feel this way. “Fuck, you look beautiful when you come”, he grinned. My hair was a tussled, and I was pretty sure my makeup was a mess, but I took his words as truth in that moment; convinced from the expression on his face, that there was no way he could be lying. “Thank you… for that”, I gasped. “And for the orgasm. That was pretty awesome too”. We laughed together for a moment, before Eddie leaned down, and kissed me. “Are you good to continue?”, he asked. “Don’t you dare stop!”, I exclaimed. “Ok… Turn around, then”.

He pulled out of me – leaving me feeling empty and wanting more – and grabbed my hip, to make me turn over. I got on all fours, and once again felt Eddie probing my entrance. He pushed into me with a pleased sigh, and began moving again. He shifted between fast and slow; as if every time he picked up speed, he willed himself to slow down again. “It’s ok. I can take it”, I said. “Alright”, Eddie panted, and let out a groan, as he slammed in to me. I feel forwards on the bed, landing on my chest; and felt my backside lift with every one of Eddie’s thrusts in to me. “… just go to sleep!”, I heard Eddie behind me. “I’m not…”, I said. “What?”. “I’m not asleep. How could I be?” “Oh… No, yeah; of course!”.

He snaked a hand underneath me, and expertly began stroking circles against my clit. I was soon, once again, feeling the familiar rush of an impending orgasm. “I’m gonna…”, I rasped. “Again?”, Eddie panted; still thrusting in to me, and having found the perfect rhythm for the both of us. “Uh huh…”, I whimpered, and turned my face into the mattress; crying out in pleasure. My walls contracted around Eddie’s hardness, and moments later, he let out a rasping groan; and came.

I was trying to regain my breath, and still feeling my muscles clenching throughout my body; as Eddie pulled out of me. He placed a soft kiss to the back of my neck, and got off the bed, to rid himself of the condom. I pulled at the sheet, wrapping it around me, as he returned to the bed and slipped his boxers back on. He looked satisfied, but also a bit frustrated, and I quietly excused myself to the bathroom, to clean up.

Through the door, I heard him shuffling around the small apartment, and seemingly talking to himself. “… stay out of it… was a me thing… I don’t need that”. I was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable at the situation; and must have been stood for quite a while in the small bathroom, because suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Are you ok in there?”, Eddie called out. “Yeah!”, I replied, quickly finishing my cleanup, and washing my hands. I stepped out into the living area again, and gave him a half smile. “Uhm… are youok though?”. Eddie leaned in, and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, before stepping over to the fridge. “Of course… I’m awesome”, he said, and got out two beers. “That was great!”. I examined his face, and couldn’t help but frown. “Ok… You just seem a little out of it”, I said, and accepted the drink. “Are you regretting…”. “No!”, Eddie exclaimed, his eyes wide and earnest. “Not at all… I just get in my head sometimes”. “Ok…”, I muttered.

Eddie sighed deeply, and took my hand. “Come on”, he said, and pulled me over to sit on the couch. “That… what we just did; that was really great. You were great”. “So were you”, I smiled, biting my lip. “Yeah?”, Eddie said; a slight pink hue to his cheeks. “Thanks…”. As I took a welcome sip of my beer, he merged his fingers with my free hand. “I’d like to do it again… If you’re good with that”. “I’d like that”, I said. We sat for a moment in silence. “Do you wanna stay the night?”. “I should get going”. We’d spoken at the same time. “Oh… Well, if you wanna go…”, Eddie said. “I just thought – seeing as you said the bed at your place wasn’t that great – maybe you’d want to sleep somewhere else”. “The couch isn’t much better”, I chuckled. “Are you sure though? I don’t want you to think you have to…”. “I’d like you to stay”, Eddie said. I felt my cheeks burn. “Ok… I’ll stay”, I said.

Eddie lit up in a grin, and leaned in to give me a warm kiss. “I’m happy you moved in across the hall”, he said. “Me too”, I smiled. “Me three…! Too!”, Eddie said, his voice having shifted from deep, and back to his raspy tone within seconds. He cleared his throat. “Sorry… My throat is a bit dry”, he said, and took a deep swig of his beer. I frowned in confusion, but decided to let it go. We had just spent a good while exercising, and my own throat was a little dry as well; and I took another sip of my beer.

We sat for a long moment in silence, sipping at our bottles, and smiling warmly at each other; before Eddie frowned deeply. “I have to tell you something”, he said. “And… You might change your mind about staying”. I felt a shudder go through my body, suddenly worried where this was going. “What is it?”, I croaked. Eddie took a deep breath, and blew it out. He took my beer from me, and put it down on the coffee table, next to his own. Taking both my hands, he looked deeply in to my eyes. “Here goes… Uhm… Wow, this is hard”, he said. “Just tell me”, I said, trying for calm and encouraging. “Ok… I snore… And not in the cute way”, Eddie said. “I give the streetcars a run for their money, when it comes to noise”. I instantly began laughing in relief. “That’s it? You should hear me!”. Eddie raised his brows at me. “I’ll bet you 20 bucks and a donut from Don’s, I can outdo you”, he said. “You’re a journalist. Don’t you have a Dictaphone?”, I asked. Eddie sprang over to his messenger bag, and pulled out a small recorder. “Let’s do this!”, he exclaimed.

I got to my feet, and followed him over to the bed. Unwrapping myself from the sheet, Eddie gave me a sly smile, and pulled me in for a deep kiss – running his hands up and down my sides – before he let me crawl onto the bed. Once I laid down, he crawled in next to me, and put the sheet over the both of us. He clicked the record button on the Dictaphone, and put it by the bed: before pulling me in to his arms. I cuddled up against him, and let his warmth lull me; feeling suddenly very tired. “Goodnight, Ed”, I whispered. We gave each other a soft kiss. “Goodnight, Lyla”, he replied.

I was already halfway asleep, when something tucked us in; pulling the covers over us. “Eddie?”, I yawned. “Yeah?”, he asked hesitantly. “Was that you?”. “Yes!”. “Ok. Goodnight”. I was out.

---

#eddie brock #eddie brock fic #venom #venom fic #eddie brock x oc #eddie brock fluff #eddie brock smut

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years ago

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 14 - Unexpected Meeting

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who will they run into?, 3.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, emotional trauma

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

“Man, I need a break,” Reggie was saying as he strolled with Alex down an unfamiliar street in the early evening, stretching his arms. “I mean, being in the studio all the time has been good, but on top of everything else it’s just so much!”

Unsure where they were headed, Alex walked a few paces ahead on the sidewalk, casually navigating for both of them. He squinted as he looked at Reggie.

“Reggie, you dropped, like, all of your classes once we signed on.”

“Nope!” his friend exclaimed, tilting his head in a proud manner. “I just needed two electives to graduate. It’s okay, though, man. Not everyone finishes their math requirements as a freshman.” Reggie patted Alex’s shoulder, as if it were any sort of consolation.

“No, good for you Reg,” Alex said. His parents had paid for all this private tutoring and even gotten him to take some college credits early. Of course, his only serious plan after high school had been the band so it was all wasted effort, but then all of their attempts with him amounted to that. He was learning to feel less guilty over it. It wasn’t his fault they never cared about what he wanted.

“How long do you think Luke and Bobby are gonna be workshopping their parts together?” Reggie asked.

“Long enough. Where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, I was just kind of keeping an eye out for anywhere interesting.”

Alex blinked. “I thought we were headed somewhere specific.”

“I’ve only been to this side of L.A. like, once, so I don’t think I’d make a good tour guide,” Reggie stated.

And just like that, Alex’s mind thrust itself back into remembering Willie. He was getting better at not crumbling completely in the moment, but it still felt like his heart was temporarily dunked into a dark ocean of misery. It would remain waterlogged and heavy inside his chest for a while.

“Alex?” Reggie was saying, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Alex sighed as he looked back at Reggie.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and pressed his arms against his sides. Shoulders hunched, he continued through the crowd. Focusing on walking would hopefully help it wear off. He made every step purposeful, trying to get the weight in his heart to fall through his feet. Reggie’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“It’s still rough, isn’t it?” he asked gently. “If I said something - ”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex tried to assure him. “Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere. Besides, I can’t make you and everyone else walk on eggshells.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in this with you. It may have been different for us, but we all met Willie. I’d never seen you warm up to anyone that fast. Even after a few months, it’s still fresh; don’t force yourself to be better for us.”

Pausing on the sidewalk, Alex looked up at Reggie. He tried to smile as gratitude edged its way in, relieving most of the heaviness in his chest.

“I appreciate that, Reg.”

“Of course, man.”

“So,” Alex took a deep breath to let everything else wash away as they kept wandering. “You made it sound like you had a lot going on. Is everything at home okay?”

Reggie shrugged. “Eh...no change there. My mom went to stay with her sister after the last fight, so my dad’s been trying his best to take care of everything, but he’s too upset to handle it well. My little sister has just been sleeping over with friends anyway, and I can handle myself, so - ” he shrugged again, “ - you know, I do what I can.”

Alex nodded. He had nothing really to comment, and Reggie knew he was always there to support him. This wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it still wasn’t right. Neither of them spent much time at their own homes, so wandering through the city like this kept them occupied when they weren’t with the rest of the band. Looking up at the store signs around them, he saw a record store about a block ahead.

“Hey, why don’t we check that out?” he suggested.

“Yeah!” Reggie said, dropping any ounce of gloom from the previous subject and skipping along to catch up with Alex.

A small bell rang as they came through the door, and they immediately began filtering through shelves of records and CDs. Peeking toward the back of the store, Alex could see a counter that offered a menu of food and drinks, some tables, as well as the smallest stage in the world. This seemed like a neat little place.

“Oh,” Reggie started after a while. “I got us a gig playing at my cousin’s wedding.”

“A wedding?” Alex said skeptically, turning from the Pansy Division vinyl he was checking out. “When we’re trying to finish a record and go on tour?”

“It’s Conrad, okay, he’s family! And he said we could make the setlist.”

Alex shrugged, considering that was fair.

“...with his approval.”

At that addition, Alex could only sigh and shake his head.

“And then maybe, you could, I don’t know, finally ask Bobby to be your date?”

Reggie put down the Mötley Crüe album he’d been examining and looked up at him in shock. Alex realized he’d possibly been too blunt. But immediately Reggie began to cover it up, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?” he said, his denial completely transparent. “Was that a...was that supposed to be a joke or something?”

Giving him a look of pity, Alex put his hands on his hips.

“You’re really gonna try to pull the wool over the eyes of your gay friend?”

Caught, Reggie looked back at him in defeat and bowed his head.

“I’m gonna guess you noticed a while ago?”

Nodding, Alex tried to soften his demeanor.

“There’s been something up with you two for months. How come you haven’t tried to talk to him about it?”

Reggie knit his brow and began fiddling with his fingers.

“Well, I’m a little confused by it, to be honest. Cuz, I mean...I like girls, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But I like Bobby, too.”

“Okay.”

His friend looked up at him, expecting more of a reaction. Alex leaned against the shelf and folded his arms.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with you? Because you’re talking to the king of wrong feelings.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like that, but not really. It’s something else,” Reggie said.

“Like what?”

“Well...we’ve been friends for years. It just sort of crept up on me and I don’t know what to do. What if he rejects it? He’s one of my best friends.”

Thinking for a moment, Alex looked down at his feet. He didn’t blame Reggie for being worried. He’d had a mini crush on Bobby for a couple weeks back in ninth grade and had the same dilemma. It was easier for him to get over, though, simply because it had faded quickly.

“Well, I wish I could say if it’s meant to be it’ll happen, but sometimes…”

Sometimes it dies in a fire before there’s any chance of knowing.

He shook his head to get rid of the awful thought and ignored Reggie’s look of concern.

“But if I know Bobby, I don’t think it’s going to harm anything. I think you should go for it, Reg. I truly, honestly, will back you up on that.”

A smile spread wide across Reggie’s face.

“Thanks, man!”

Without fretting over it for another second, he turned back to the shelf of CDs he’d been perusing, and Alex did the same. There was a crazy good selection, and Alex wished he could get his hands on a record player. Playing CDs on a boombox worked for some things, but there was a level of charm in playing something on a vinyl record that appealed to him even more. He made a note to get a small notebook to carry in his fanny pack, hoping to return to this store and make a wishlist of sorts to work toward.

“Do I see Alex and Reggie of Sunset Curve?” A familiar voice said from behind.

Both of them turned to find Flynn standing in the aisle, braids tied up into a high ponytail and eyebrow arched in her usual smart fashion.

“Hey Flynn!” Reggie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. Alex went in for one afterward, happily surprised.

“Hey guys!” she said, grinning.

“What are you up to?” Alex asked.

“Gonna be performing in a bit,” she said excitedly. “Just a warm up before the main group comes on. I’ve been working on some of my own stuff; I think you guys would love it! Got time to stick around?”

“Sweet!” Reggie raised a fist for her to bump. “I’m down. Alex, wanna stay?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

He had yet to see what Flynn was capable of. If he were to judge only on knowing she’d been in a duo with Julie, he expected it to be good.

“Also, you should try the burritos here,” Flynn told them. “They are to die for!”

The endless click-rollll-click-click-click of his board filled his ears as Willie moved through the street, feeling the wind pass over him in the way that made freedom feel like he could clutch it in his hands. He’d actually spent today not worrying about Alex. It felt good not to dwell on what little past he had access to. Of course, he still had repetitive dreams about the few memories that had come back, but the backwards one with Caleb in it hadn’t come back ever since he’d gotten to LA. Moving forward felt...nice.

He had spent the morning sketching at the beach, getting all sorts of practice in. The beautiful waves, seagulls, the different activities all around him. Somehow a group of young college kids had gotten him to join their volleyball tournament. Willie wasn’t sure if he’d ever played it before, but once he caught onto the game, he’d gotten surprisingly good. It felt nice to roll up the hem of his jeans and dig his toes into the warm sand while playing with a group of strangers. They’d nicknamed him Mowgli, whatever that meant. He liked the sound of it though.

Heading off to work after cleaning himself up, he realized he could spend all his free time that way. Peacefully sketching, meeting fun people, and enjoying his surroundings. Was that all it took to be happy? Willie chuckled at the thought of how much Caleb had stressed over rising to the top of his business game, never appearing to be satisfied with any of it. Leaving Vegas remained the best decision he’d ever made. Of course, he wasn’t always proud about his method of burning down the shed, but it had been one of those...heat of the moment things.

Willie skated up to the back entrance and shook his hair out after lifting off his helmet. Just a few short hours of making food, some chill entertainment, and he could peace out for the night. He headed inside the store and right into the small kitchen. Thankfully, the store didn’t fit too many patrons and it was never hard to keep up with orders, and Kyle had a system so he never had to leave the kitchen. This basically meant he could jam to the live music during the lulls between orders with no interruption.

Kyle entered the kitchen just as Willie was tying on his apron.

“Hey, dude, thanks for coming. We actually got two acts coming in, so it should be a full crowd. Katelyn can be the MC for the first bit, but do you mind taking over for the second half?”

A twinge of excitement came over Willie and he lit up. He’d never gotten to try being an MC before.

“Don’t mind at all!” he said.

“Alright, man!” Kyle exclaimed. “First two orders up: swamp style nachos and a bog burrito.”

“Got it.”

“We’re up for a big night with these performances,” the girl hosting hyped up the crowd. “Let’s give it up for our artist of the night: Flynn Taylor!”

Reggie cupped his hands over his mouth as he hollered along with everyone else’s applause. Alex clapped with a mouthful of nachos. Flynn stepped onto the stage behind a set of deejay turntables, smirking as she began flipping switches and turning knobs.

“Thanks for coming out here everyone,” she said into the mic. More applause and whistles echoed through the room. “We’re gonna make a lot of noise tonight, so let me hear you get pumped!”

As she began playing a beat, Alex bobbed along, immediately interested. He didn’t know a thing about mixing, so he was highly impressed with the different sounds she was using. Then Flynn picked up the mic and began rapping and the whole room cheered.

“...I’m a princess, I don’t need a prince, boy I’m priceless...I’m here to shut it down like a night shift…”

“Man,” Reggie leaned over to Alex. “She’s so good! I say we book her to open for us ASAP as possible.”

Alex merely snorted and chuckled at Reggie’s misuse of the acronym. He actually enjoyed the idea of having Flynn rapping to open for their rock shows. Gigs where all the bands sounded the same got a little flavorless sometimes.

“Also,” Reggie said as he took a huge bite into his burrito. “This is the best burrito I’ve ever had.”

“Lemme try some, you can try my nachos,” Alex said.

All Reggie could say was Mm! as he passed the burrito over.

The final beats of the first performer echoed in the kitchen where Willie had been dancing, waving various kitchen tools around. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole set, and wondered what sounded so familiar about the girl who was rapping. Before he could spend more time thinking about it, Kyle came in.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked.

“I just keep people busy and then announce the next group, right?” Willie guessed.

“Yeah, man, you’ve got this!”

“What’s the next group called?”

“Downslide. And they brought some merch, so it’s a good idea to mention that to the crowd as well.”

“Okay,” Willie nodded, slipping out of his apron. “Maybe I could put their t-shirt on or something, you know, sell the look?”

Kyle looked impressed. “Yeah! I’ll go see what they’ve got.”

He left the kitchen and hardly a minute later returned with a jacket.

“They said you could wear it for the night. Not gonna lie, I wish I could wear this, it’s a sweet jacket.”

Willie slipped it on, and turned around. He didn’t often wear jackets, but whatever it was made of was pretty soft.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said, giving Kyle a hand slide and fist bump before leaving the kitchen. He stepped up behind the microphone and looked out at the crowd, and further back, the empty store.

At that moment, he heard the bell of the store door ring and two guys walked outside. Through the window, a familiar leather jacket passed. Then, he saw a head of blonde hair follow, turning to look both ways to cross the street, and his heart grew to fill all the empty space in his chest. It was unmistakable. It had to be.

“Alex...” he breathed quietly into the microphone. Adrenaline immediately went out to his extremities. The crowd before him looked bewildered as they waited for him to announce the next group.

Glancing offstage, he saw Kyle give him a strange look. Willie shook his head, unclear what message he was sending but ultimately knowing he couldn’t stay at his current spot. Before he could think anything else, his legs were bounding out the door. It felt like every ounce of blood in his veins knew. The search was over.

Reggie and Alex had just reached the opposite corner. He wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Alex!” he cried, running to meet them.

He immediately thrust his arms around a surprised Alex, gripping him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Alex!” he said, panting. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t feel the hug didn’t reciprocate, and instead Alex grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. The darkness of the street seemed to envelop him.

“What are you - ?” Alex started, staring back at Willie like he’d just been assaulted. Then shock wiped over his whole face. Then confusion. And then a pain came over all of it that made Willie’s concern grow.

“What - what is it?” he asked, all the excitement gone.

Alex wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he raised a hand to hold the side of his head.

“No, this isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, shrinking backward and shutting his eyes. “This can’t be real.”

Willie glanced over at Reggie, who also stared like he was seeing the impossible. He could see Alex shaking and heard a rattled breath, and felt tension grow thick in the air. Quickly, he went to take Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex, hey, look, it’s me,” he soothed. He fought to get a look directly into his eyes. “It’s me, Willie.”

Finally, the green ocean gazed back at him, turbulent and restless. What once had been a grounding rhythm of waves had turned into a maelstrom of despair. Even worse were the tears welling up right before him. Willie watched the storm rage for a few seconds, seeking for a moment of calm.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, lowering his hands. Alex looked so wounded it frightened him.

“How are you alive?” Alex begged to know.

Blinking, Willie sat back, astounded at those words. While he agreed it was a miracle he was still alive, he couldn’t fathom why Alex would ask such a question. He chuckled merely out of discomfort.

“I’m here.” Willie glanced at Reggie, looking for an explanation. “Flesh and bone. Why? What happened?”

Alex looked at him incredulously, jaw hanging open. He looked so tightly wound and so scattered all at once.

“Caleb told me you were dead.”

Willie blanched inwardly at the mention of Caleb, but even more so at the rest of that sentence he’d been utterly unprepared to hear.

“He...he - ” he stammered for a moment. “When would you have even talked to him?”

Sharing a look with Reggie, Alex took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Willie hesitantly.

“We see him all the time. We work for him now.”

It was Willie’s turn to drop his jaw.

“We’ve been signed to his record label for a few months now,” Reggie pitched in.

Directing his gaze to the ground, Willie puzzled for a minute.

“Why would I be dead?” he asked, looking back up at Alex.

For a minute Alex simply gazed at him wordlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said. There was a pause as both of them finally looked at each other, fully aware that this was real. And then Alex threw his arms around Willie to return the hug. Willie had to raise himself up on his toes to avoid falling over, and he tightened his grip to remain steady. He felt joy spread through his whole torso and breathed a sigh of relief as hands tangled into his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to see you.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #sunset curve #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #flynn taylor #caleb covington #viva las vegas #unexpected meeting #fiddlepickdouglas

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hookingminor · 4 years ago

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May I request from list 3 Fall Au’s- “We live together and I cant stop fall decorating every inch of the apartment and you’re getting pretty sick of finding miniature pumpkins mixed up in all your stuff but you let it go because you love me” with our Big Rig- Jamie Oleksiak? :)

We live together and I can’t stop fall decorating every inch of the apartment and you’re getting pretty sick of finding miniature pumpkins mixed up in all your stuff but you let it go because you love me

I got really soft writing this I'm sorry

Jamie never saw the point in decorating. He bought his apartment fully furnished and added a few personal photos and a couple throw pillows and called it a day.

And then he met you.

When you first started dating, you introduced a few more things into his home: fun mugs, patterned blankets, pictures in frames, cute magnets, small house plants. You progressively brought more into his home over the couple of years you dated, but you didn’t truly make your mark until you moved in.

It was your first fall living together. You had spent the offseason cleaning out your old apartment and transferring your things to Jamie’s apartment, but now that the temperatures were cooling and leaves were falling, you had to decorate the apartment to match.

You began with the decorative pillows and festive blankets to replace his regular ones. Then you moved to the kitchen and bathrooms to change the towels and threw a cornucopia and some sunflowers on the tables. After that, you temporarily rearranged his shelves to accommodate the smallest pumpkins you could buy. The pumpkins started on the shelves… and then you were spreading them to all flat surfaces… and now you had arrayed them in your bedroom and bathrooms as well.

“Babe, how many pumpkins do you need?” Jamie called out from the bathroom before bed. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth, the first night home after a roadie, and he was finally taking stock of how much decorating you’d done while he was gone. It was one thing to have scented apple cider candles and pumpkin scented sprays, but now the pumpkins were taking up almost every inch of counter space in the whole apartment.

“They’re so cute, I had to!” You said in defense, and he gave you a small chuckle as he exited the bathroom to join you in bed. Crawling in next to you, he also noticed how you’d put more pumpkins on the nightstands.

“You’re ridiculous,” he commented, pulling the covers over his body and opening his arms for you to curl into his side. You did so eagerly, wrapping your arm around his torso as you pressed a kiss along the underside of his jaw.

“You love them, don’t even lie,” you teased.

Jamie thought about it for a second. He did love them. Mainly because he loved you and would let you do whatever he wanted to his home, but also because of how much warmer his apartment was now.

It felt like a home for the first time ever. Sure, he lived there and spent half of his time lounging on the couch or sleeping in bed, but it never felt completely right. Then you came into his life and inserted yourself in his home (in the best way possible), and now Jamie was realizing how homey the apartment felt now. He spent his time on road trips longing to come home to you and curl up on the couch under your ridiculously printed blankets while you watched movies on the TV that rested on a shelf surrounded by pictures of you two and little trinkets.

You were imprinted on everything in his home: the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room, and even the pantry where you kept all your secret snacks Jamie wasn’t allowed to touch.

He loved it.

He loved that his home now reminded him of you rather than just a place to sleep, eat, and live. Home was your tiny pumpkins and fluffy blankets and quirky mugs and colorful pens. Home was you.

“Yeah, I do love them,” Jamie agreed after a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead, “and I love you.”

#jamie oleksiak #jamie oleksiak imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #my writing #requests #blurbs #stars2

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gregorvorbarra · 1 year ago

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some context: I work at a library, but am not a librarian. I am circulation staff

some of you expressed interest, so here it is: The Cart War

so. libraries run on carts. we can’t do anything without carts. books are heavy and, as you can imagine, we have a lot of them. we use carts to ferry them around. librarians, obviously, need carts to put books on when they work on their collections. circulation staff needs carts to ferry the books that are coming in and the books that are going out. shelvers need carts to put the books on to transfer them from the sorting shelves and to their final location. we all need carts.

background: we’re a very small, but very busy library, and we don’t have a lot of space to put things, such as carts. this is our cart count:

- 4 large carts

- 5 medium size carts (2 are flat, 2-shelf carts, and 3 are angled, 3-shelf carts)

- I actually don’t know off-hand how many small carts we have, I wanna say 6?

(I’m not counting carts that are at Permanent locations, such as the Display Cart, the carts sitting at the librarians’ desks for their use, and the two carts at the circulation desk for book returns)

we use most of these carts in the morning, when we get our book (and other materials) delivery from the other library branches in the system. the delivery includes both books from other branches requested by our patrons, and books that belong to our branch that are coming back to us from other branches. delivery is a circulation task, and we often use the large carts because they can fit more items on them. we often do use all four of them. our delivery is massive for the size of our branch.

another morning task is pulling the request list, so that requires at least one cart (depending on how many people are working on it. one cart per person). the medium and small carts are often used for that.

and then the shelvers need carts, so they can shelve books.

the issue: the librarians also need carts, and they will take carts and fill them up completely with stuff and leave that stuff sitting on carts for days, sometimes weeks at a time. and when I say “stuff”, I mean: books. craft supplies. boxes. summer reading prizes. miscellaneous crap.

three carts have been in use all summer for summer reading prizes.

once, we asked the librarians to clear some carts for us to use the next morning, and one of the librarians boiled over in rage and shouted at all of us for it. she had construction paper on three long carts for her teen volunteer to use the next afternoon, and was furious that we asked her to move it temporarily.

another time, a librarian had her teen volunteers fill up two long carts completely with books, because she needed something for the volunteers to do, and then left for a week-long conference out of state.

one librarian was using three carts to hold craft supplies

once, I was emptying a cart that we had used for a craft program so that the morning staff could use them the next day, and the librarian said “it’s not the end of the world if there are no carts tomorrow morning”.

why is this an issue?

we at circulation literally cannot do our jobs without carts. it’s physically impossible. we routinely get 200 - 400 requested books in our delivery, and even more books coming back to us from other branches. am I supposed to carry those over to the hold shelves in my arms and shelve them? I can’t. and that’s just our delivery, the amount of books we get returned each day is massive. when speaking to HR about my worker’s comp injury, the HR rep literally said, “yes please don’t carry stacks of books. that’s what carts are for”

this is something I’ve tried to address so many times. I wasn’t even the one to call it a Cart War, that was one of the librarians! (and complaining to ME about another coworker talking to her about it, too.) they get angry when we’re like, “hey guys we need those carts.” my boss had me label the carts we need in the morning, and yet the librarians are taking them.

I know they need them too, but like… THEY are not the ones handling hundreds of books each day. not having carts makes it real hard for us to do our work, and it takes a HUGE toll on my body. and I get real mad about it.

so here’s the mundane library drama. it feels real petty when writing it out, but my arm is very sore and i’m very mad about it.

does anyone want to hear about the Cart War that I’m waging against the librarians at my library

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noona-clock · 4 years ago

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The Personal Trainer - Part 6, Final Chapter

Genre: Gym!AU

Pairing: Junhoe x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,740

One Year Later

“These are the last ones,” Junhoe announced as he came in through the front door carrying two boxes stacked on top of each other.

Your brother followed behind him carrying another two boxes, lifting his leg up to kick the door closed behind him once he’d stepped into the entry way.

You quickly glanced up at them, seeing that both Junhoe’s boxes were labeled ‘Kitchen’ and the boxes in your brother’s arms were labeled ‘Bathroom’ and ‘Books.’

“Kitchen, kitchen, bathroom, books,” you mumbled to yourself after shifting your gaze back down to the list in your hand. You found the last four boxes left unchecked and marked them off. “Perfect.”

“Babe --”

But you knew Junhoe was going to ask you where your brother should take his boxes, so you didn’t even wait for him to finish.

“Both of them can go upstairs,” you told your brother, making eye contact with him so he knew for sure you were talking to him.

Your brother nodded, smiled through his grimace, and began to lug the two boxes up the stairs.

You set your list down and continued on unpacking the box containing all of your mugs and glasses. It was taking you a while since each one had been carefully wrapped in newspaper and bubble wrap, but you were also having a little too much fun figuring out how to arrange them all in your new cabinet.

As you heard the heavy thud of footsteps going up the staircase, you heard another set of footsteps heading down the hallway toward the kitchen -- Junhoe’s footsteps, of course, since both of the boxes he had just brought in were for the kitchen.

“Just find any empty space to put them down,” you murmured as you carefully slid a mug with a bear’s face on it onto a shelf.

After Junhoe let out a soft grunt and set the boxes down, you heard his shuffling footsteps coming toward you -- presumably to help you put the rest of the mugs and glasses away.

But, to your (pleasant) surprise, you instead felt his arms slide around your waist. You froze, a smile tugging at your lips as Junhoe pressed a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

“I thought you were coming to help me,” you said softly through your grin.

“I will,” he mumbled, kissing the side of your neck. “In a minute.”

His lips created a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft, breathless giggle. “Jun, I’m all sweaty,” you told him. You’d been moving and unpacking boxes since early this morning -- and moving to a new house was no easy feat.

Junhoe paused for just a moment, and you felt his breath graze over your skin as he laughed. “Babe, I’m a personal trainer. Do you really think sweat bothers me?”

“...True.”

He then continued exploring the side of your neck with his lips, creating a trail of kisses as he began to move up toward your ear.

The sound of your brother’s footsteps coming back down the stairs made you jump, though, and you put your hands on Junhoe’s arms to try and break his hold on you.

“We’re moving in together,” Junhoe whispered. “It’s not like he doesn’t know we kiss. And do other --”

You elbowed him in the ribs as sharply as you dared, and even though his stomach was basically rock hard, he humored you by letting out a strained groan. He also let his arms fall from around your waist just as your brother started coming down the hallway.

“You guys need any more help?” he asked when he appeared in the kitchen doorway, panting slightly and resting his hands on his hips.

“No,” you replied immediately, your forehead slightly wrinkled. “No, you have done more than enough.”

You handed Junhoe the mug you had been unwrapping and slipped past him, heading over toward your brother so you could walk him to the front door.

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you gushed as the two of you started walking back down the hallway.

“You know I’m happy to help,” you brother replied, nudging your side gently. “I’m really proud of how consistently you’ve been working out, but I knew you could use the extra muscle.”

You simply rolled your eyes playfully, not making a comment out loud because... he was right. You had been working out consistently -- now that Junhoe was your boyfriend (again), there was no way you could escape exercising -- but you knew you would’ve been ten times more exhausted if you’d had to help carry in half the boxes.

As soon as the two of you stepped outside, letting the front door of your beautiful new house close behind you, your brother turned to face you. He put his hands on your shoulders and lifted his eyebrows.

“I have waited a long time to say this,” he began.

Oh, lord. What was going to come out of his mouth next? You had a sneaking suspicion, but --

“But I told you that you never really got over him.”

Yep, there it was.

“Okay, dude, it has been a year --”

“I’ve been waiting for the right time to gloat!” your brother interrupted with a very smug grin. “And this feels like the right time. Now, admit it: I know you better than you know yourself.”

“I am not admitting that,” you deadpanned.

“Well, we both know you’re an expert in denial, so I will take that as a win.”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, shrugging his hands off your shoulders and pushing him toward his car parked in the driveway. “Get out of here. Thank you.”

Your brother shot you one last satisfied half-smile, lifting one hand up to give you a two-finger salute as he headed out to go back to his own place to take care of Harry (temporarily). “See ya, Sis.”

You stood out on the stoop, watching your brother get in his car, waving good-bye to him one last time, and waiting until he’d backed out of the driveway before turning to go back inside.

You expected Junhoe to still be in the kitchen putting the rest of the mugs and glasses away, but you really should’ve learned by now that your boyfriend was just too unpredictable for you to ever comprehend.

But that was okay.

Over the past year, the two of you had really grown -- both as a couple and as individuals. He had learned to be more mindful of your structured schedule, and you had learned to be more laid back about his incredibly loose timetables.

He had also gotten very good at not being late thanks to your incessant nagging and all the alarms you set on his phone, and if you never accomplished anything else for the rest of your life, at least you had accomplished that.

So, instead of getting aggravated that Junhoe hadn’t finished the job like the Old You would have, you took a deep breath, told yourself you would finish it later, and called out to him.

“Jun? Where’d you go?”

“I’m in here,” he replied, his voice much closer than you expected. It was obviously coming from the next room over -- the living room -- so you shuffled over and poked your head through the doorway.

As soon as your gaze landed on him lounging on the sofa, he patted the cushion next to him. “Get over here,” he invited, and the thought of relaxing -- even if just for a few minutes -- was far too tempting to resist.

You stepped out of your shoes and practically leaped onto the couch beside him, though you were far too tired from unpacking things to actually leap.

Junhoe immediately put an arm around you, pulling you close to his side before grabbing your legs and draping them over his lap.

“How’re you doing?” he murmured as you pressed your forehead into the crook of his neck and let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Tired, baby?”

You nodded, letting out a positive hum. And when Junhoe began to rub your back, your eyelids got too heavy to keep open any longer.

“We’ll just take a little break and then get back to it,” he said. “I know I left the rest of the mugs and stuff, but I’ll get to it, don’t worry.”

A smile tugged at your lips. For some reason, it was still surprising and delightful that Junhoe could pinpoint exactly what worried you.

In fact, it delighted you so much, you just had to lift your head up and place a kiss on his jaw.

“I love you,” you said softly, unable to keep yourself from smiling.

Junhoe tightened his hold on you, letting out a quiet chuckle when you kissed his jaw a few more times.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

“And I’m so happy we’re doing this.”

“What, taking a cuddle break on the couch?”

You reached up to pinch his side for that, and he let out a playful yelp.

“No, that we’re moving in together,” you corrected, even though you knew he knew what you’d meant.

“Oh, yeah! That. Yeah, I’m happy we’re doing that, too.”

It actually hadn’t been an easy decision to do this. Even though you were truly, madly, deeply in love with each other and your relationship was infinitely stronger than it had been the first go-round, you still knew that living together would be a big change.

I mean, even when Junhoe had spent the night at your apartment, you’d had to constantly remind him to actually put his dirty clothes in your laundry hamper rather than just leaving them on the floor.

How many times had you said, “It’s really no extra effort to just walk the few steps over to the closet and put them in the basket. Just do it now so you don’t have to do it later!”

And you wouldn’t even get started on dirty dishes.

Trust me. No one wants that.

The truth of the matter was, Junhoe was a slob. He admitted it easily and apologized for it frequently, and despite your best efforts... he was still a slob.

So, yeah. Moving in together meant more of the same. There would inevitably be arguments, and you would absolutely nag him about picking up after himself.

But, in the end, the question you had to ask yourself was this: could you live without him?

And the answer was No. You could not.

I mean, yes, you would be able to live without him if -- God forbid -- something ever happened. You would move on with your life. You were your own person, and your happiness depended on no one else but yourself.

But you know what I mean.

Even though it wasn’t going to be easy, not living with him would’ve been much harder. And that’s why you ultimately found a listing for a house nearby and texted it to him with no context or comment.

He had replied back almost immediately with, “Count me in.”

Things had moved pretty quickly from there, and the two of you had ended up buying this house -- the same house you’d sent him -- less than a month later.

Ever since you’d rekindled your relationship with Junhoe, you had opened yourself up to simply allowing yourself to feel, to trust your instincts. If you hadn’t been so adamant about denying everything, you would’ve learned that your feelings for him had never actually gone away. You didn’t want to waste time like that again, so you’d been pushing yourself to be honest about your emotions.

And, even though it was a big decision to move in together, you’d felt that it was right. You’d felt that this house was the right house for you.

Now, here you were! Not even a month later. Sitting in your new living room.

“It’s crazy, huh?” he murmured, breaking into your thoughts with his deep but quiet voice. “The fact that we’re here right now.”

You scooched a bit closer to him, cuddling up to him more than you already were. “Yeah, it’s so crazy. But I know it’s right.”

“Me, too,” he sighed, squeezing your shoulders and turning his head to kiss your forehead. “And I know I’m going to drive you crazy, but I really will try my best not to.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “And knowing that you’re trying your best is enough.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, you’re still going to drive me crazy. There’s really nothing we can do about that.”

“No,” he agreed with a lopsided smile.

“But...” You tilted your head back to look up at him, your brow furrowed earnestly. “I’ve lived with you, and I’ve lived without you... and I realize now that living without you is a lot harder.”

“...We just moved in together, so technically, you really haven’t lived with me yet.”

“Stop being so annoying!” you laughed, pushing against him just hard enough to make him sway a little.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he chuckled with a mischievous grin. “No, I know what you mean. And I agree, of course. Life with you is a million times better than life without you, even when you’re nagging me to pick up after myself.”

“And I just want to point out that I don’t like nagging you,” you declared.

The hand Junhoe had wrapped around your shoulder slid across your back and moved up to your neck, gently massaging you there as he murmured, “What if I said I kind of do?”

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “...Excuse me?”

“I think it’s kind of sexy when you nag and get all riled up,” he smirked.

“You are so weird,” you laughed. And even though it felt so good to just be lazy on the couch, your urge to organize and put everything away was stronger than your exhaustion. So, you swung your legs off Junhoe’s lap and pushed yourself off the couch so you could head back into the kitchen.

You heard your boyfriend let out a whining groan, but just a few seconds later, he followed you.

As much as he complained about and resisted keeping things neat and tidy, you were pretty sure he secretly enjoyed it. Or maybe he just secretly enjoyed you telling him what to do, like he’d just told you on the couch.

Either way, it worked out in your favor.

It only took a couple of minutes for the two of you to work out an unpacking system -- at least when it came to your mugs, glasses, and dishes: Junhoe would unwrap them, and you would put them away.

About ten minutes into your two-person assembly line, Junhoe handed you a bowl with a very thoughtful expression on his face.

“What’s up?” you asked, taking the bowl but waiting before you turned to put it in the cabinet.

“I was just thinking... the house is great, and you are great, but I don’t think it’ll actually feel like home until our pets are here.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agreed without hesitation. Things would feel more normal once Harry was sleeping on your pillow at night.

“Do you think they’ll ever get along, though?”

The two of you had tried to introduce your pets to each other, but Junhoe’s dog had always been far too playful for Harry’s liking.

“I... highly doubt that,” you chuckled. “But Harry’s pretty good about keeping to himself, so I think they can at least get used to each other.”

Junhoe frowned in thought, but then he nodded. “Yeah, probably. And, hey. You never know.”

“You never know what?” you asked as you stood on your toes to put the bowl away.

“Just because they’re opposites doesn’t mean they’re doomed to hate each other. If my dog just learned to listen to your cat, and they both worked together to grow with each other... things could totally work out.”

A smile sprang to your lips, and you turned around to face him, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“That is so true,” you replied. “If we can make it work then anyone can make it work.”

And, you had to be honest, you were more excited than you’d ever been to make it work. To keep making it work. Forever. For the rest of your lives.

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halo-jpeg · 4 years ago

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 2

Richie's phone buzzed. Instantaneously, his phone was out of his pocket and into his hand, and he opted to check the message rather than watch the sidewalk ahead of him. A grin split his face and he caught the inside of his cheek between his teeth, biting down on that instead of letting out an excited little squeal. The text was from an unknown number and read,

Hi, it's Bill from the coffee shop. Can I get the party information?

With another three guests set to come, Richie was all the more anticipated. That brought the list of guests up to an even 40. With flying thumbs, Richie tapped back his answer consisting of his address and the time the party was starting before saving the number into his phone underneath the name 'Stuttering Bill'. The phone was slid back into the pocket of his jeans. A stiff breeze whisked past him, and he almost felt cold enough to shiver, pulling the edges of his arcade-floor print button-up closer together in an attempt to shield himself. The sky overhead was a pale grey, promising rain soon to come and snow, too, in no time at all. It was nearly November, and while the snow usually fell heaviest from December to January it was no rare occurrence for it to make an early appearance just for a week or two. Again, Richie's phone buzzed.

Thanks. Any snacks we should bring?

For a moment, Richie pondered. He had a perfect reply locked and loaded but didn't know if it was too soon for this kind of joke. What he wanted to say was 'only yourself, hot stuff' and maybe he'd throw in a 'and the short one too' but he quickly decided he didn't want these three random people to hate his guts too quickly on the off chance that they weren't okay with guy-on-guy flirtation like that. Instead of one of the many cruddy pickup lines he has ready to go he says,

No pressure, unless you want something for yourself.

As Richie puts his phone away yet again he found himself right where he wanted to be, the lovely little family-run grocery store known as 'Hanlon Grocer'. The people inside actually tolerated him and took the time out of their days to run 50 bags of Doritos through the checkout, when a few other places he'd been to for party snack stocking had actually turned him away- it also helped that the owners son was one of his best pals. He stepped through the door, running a quick hand through his slightly wind-swept hair. Almost immediately he was greeted by the young lady currently working the register, the younger cousin of Mike Hanlon herself, Jennifer Hanlon.

"Morning, Richie," She greeted with a casual wave, attention temporarily stolen from the book she had open in front of her, "Mike tells me you're having a party tonight. I'm guessing that's why you're here?"

"You're a cunning one, Jenny!" Richie leaned against the counter, his radiant smile making him look something close to insane, "I have about an entire aisle of soda to buy from you!" Jenny smiled back at him, plucking her bookmark from the counter and slipping it into place. She closed the book, sliding it aside, and Richie caught sight of the cover- The Prestige, by Christopher Priest. It was a new one that Mike had been reading a few weeks back.

"Well, Mike's somewhere here. If you flash him that million-dollar smile maybe you can get him to help you carry some things." Richie clapped his hands together, and took a step back.

"Thanks a billion, Jen- I'll see you shortly, I'm sure. Get those scanning hands ready, I'll have quite the haul," Richie took a few more steps backwards, still talking to Jenny as he made his way further into the store, "I really hope you don't mind me always making such a big fuss!"

"Pshh," Jenny waves a hand, "You're our top customer, Rich, I could never mind!" And, with that, Richie spun on his heel, leaving Jenny to return to her fine literature so he could go pack his arms full of snacks, too many to carry for one man alone. Lucky for him, just as he was about to disappear into an aisle in search of his friend, Mike stepped out into view from nearer the produce section, catching Richie's eye.

"Sure an begorahh, me ole' laddie Mr. O'Hanlon, sor!" Richie danced along the linoleum tiles, trying both to stomp and float at the same time, graceful and intimidating as his Irish Cop, "Doh ye mind lendin' me a hand 'er two?" At once Mike set aside the crate of cans he'd been carrying, meaning to restock some shelves- in Mike's mind, that could wait.

"Morning, Richie," He greeted as he stepped away from the crate, instead beckoning with his head for Richie to follow him towards the primary snacks isle, "Putting off shopping til last minute again? Do I have to tell you it might be a little more wise to get this done a week or so in advance in case you forget anything?" Mike glances over at Richie, his eyes alight with a teasing mischief as they turn left into isle 6.

"No, my good sir, you do not." Richie clasps his hands together as he speaks, leaning over just slightly to rake his gaze across the bottom shelf. One bag after the other, he scanned in search of just what he wanted and- aha, there it was, the barbecue chips, and, more precisely, the Lays barbecue chips.

"I called in for an extra order of those just for you," Mike gave Richie's shoulder a gentle push, which Richie returned with one of his own.

"Oh, you!" He was now the Southern Belle, a hand spread on his chest as he batted his eyelashes, "You really shouldn't have, Sir Michael, you are just too kind!" With that, the charade was abandoned and Richie dropped to his knees, none-too-graciously jamming his absurdly long arms onto either side of the rows of barbecue chips. As if they were his bride, he scooped them up, holding them with as much care as he would if this metaphor were true.

"Do you... want a basket?" Mike was snickering to himself, one hand lifted to hover over his toothy grin, the other planted on his hip. "Let me get you a basket." Richie was left alone for a second as Mike hurried away. Right, a basket- that... that could have been smart, Richie thinks to himself, but he isn't always too smart. Case in point, instead of recognizing that his arms were way too full and he couldn't carry anything else, he got distracted by the rows of chocolate bars and hobbled his way over there. A box of Atomic Fireballs sat in the midst of the candy, basically begging him to buy them. Against his better judgement, he tried to free up one hand enough to snag the candy.

-----

Eddie's gaze darted back and forth between two different cereal boxes- the classic Corn Flakes or the new Special K. One had less sugar, the other less calories, and he would be getting about the same amount of cereal for the same price but- All of a sudden, Eddie's careful thinking is interrupted by a crash, and he leaps nearly three feet in the air at the sound of it, letting out a horribly embarrassing sound like a quite shriek. Both cereal boxes went to the ground and he suddenly didn't care about them any more. A sound like that couldn't possibly mean anything good, could it? Someone might have been hurt and he has the equipment with him right now to help them on some minimal scale. Eddie hurried forwards, exiting his aisle and heading straight for the source of the noise in aisle six. As he sped around the corner, he came skidding to a halt for just a moment before pushing forwards once more and stopping at the side of someone covered in a mixture of chip bags, candies, and metal.

"Shit, are you okay? Anything hurt? Here, let me help-" A little metal rack in the center of the aisle had been pulled over onto the poor guy trapped underneath, one rung jabbed against his ribs in a manner that couldn't possibly be comfortable. Eddie fastened his hands around the rack as best he could, pulling it off and away as quickly as possible. As soon as it was pushed aside his full attention went back to whoever had been trapped underneath, and a gust of familiarity punched him right in the stomach. The only one Eddie had ever seen wearing those wretched thick-framed glasses had been the coffee guy from the night before. Eddie brushed away the pang of annoyance in his gut and helped brush bags of barbecue chips aside to pull the barista into a sitting position.

"Ah, thanks," The guy said with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up and reaching for one of the bags of chips. He frowned as he picked it up, suspecting it for damage and most likely discovering that at least half of it's contents were crushed, "My bad for the trouble, my long-ass limbs sometimes get the-" He paused, finally looking up at Eddie, and then his own eyes lit with recognition and he was grinning like a maniac. "Hey, I know you! New guy! Eds!" Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes at the nickname, brushing right past him.

"Are you okay? Hurt at all? Do I need to call a doctor? When did you last get a tetanus shot? Are you bleeding anywhere?" Eddie was already moving to unzip his trusty fanny pack, knowing he had butterfly tape, disinfectant, bandages and all things alike just inside. "How are you feeling? Dizzy at all? You might have hit your head or something and-"

"Hey, calm down there buddy, you'll give yourself an aneurysm if you don't stop and take a breath!" The barista was chuckling again, hands held out in front of him in some attempt to calm Eddie's already-racing thoughts. Worst case scenarios sprung up left and right, the current most prominent possibility being that this goof could get some sort of instantaneous infection that would transform him into a zombie, "I'm just fine, actually. I've taken quite a few tumbles in my day and this is nothin'. If anything, I'd be more concerned for the chips!" He went to climb to his feet, and Eddie was almost reluctant to allow that. Maybe he'd throw out his back or tear a muscle or fall again- he shoved the thoughts away and instead just stood as well. "Thanks, Eds," The guy said with a big glowing grin and a shrug of his shoulders, one hand rising to scratch at the back of his neck, "If I'd known you were here to save the day I'd have fallen sooner! My knight in shining armor!"

"Don't-" Eddie began, biting his tongue and then finally snapping out, "Don't call me Eds! And for the love of God, don't go getting yourself hurt just for the hell of it. That's stupid. You could have broken something!" Crossing his arms over his chest, Eddie huffed out a breath, shaking his head out of disapproval. Eddie's damsel in distress opened his mouth to speak when a new voice sliced in and someone Eddie hadn't seen before hurried around the corner with concern etched into his every feature and a shopping basket slung over one arm.

"Richie, what- What happened? You okay?" He approached quickly, glancing briefly at Eddie before his full attention went to Mr. Damsel- or, otherwise, Richie. Richie shot two thumbs ups.

"I'm great, Mikey, my good pal Eddie came to help me up."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mikey set down his basket and turned to Eddie instead, extending a hand and a friendly smile, "I'm Mike. I didn't mean to intrude if you two were talking, but Rich tends to get himself hurt more than the average human male. It's second nature now to fret over him." Richie let out a scoff, adopting a dramatic frown and upturning his nose.

"It's really hard to control my noodle arms, thank you very much! And, come on, did you really expect me not to go for the Fireballs? The heart wants what it wants, doesn't it?" Eddie let Mike's hand go and, feeling a little bit awkward now to be talking to these near-strangers, said,

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I, uh... I guess I'll be seeing you again later tonight at the party," Eddie tried to smile, "Don't go knocking over any more display shelves." Eddie was just about to turn and hurry away, just about to get out of the social interaction when none other than Bill appeared down the hall, a grocery basket hanging off his arm, obviously curious and with Stan at his side. Bill spotted Richie, Richie spotted Bill, and then the latter was approaching with his Big Bill smile.

"Oh, hey!" He greeted, nodding cheerfully in Mike's direction as well, "It's you again! I juh-just wanted to thank you fuh-for the invitation to your party." The best thing Eddie thinks Bill has ever done is draw the attention away from him. He has a tendency to do that- most eyes shift right for him when he enters the room, as if everyone sense that he is the leader. That's alright, in Eddie's opinion, because he could never be a leader and is much more content to be a follower hiding in the shadows. Now, both Richie, Mike and Bill are locked in conversation, much more friendly and natural than the one Eddie had been caught in moments earlier. Stan takes a few subtle steps towards his much shorter friend, leaning over a little to hiss out a whisper,

"They'll be talking for hours, I can already tell." Eddie found himself smiling and nodding right along. Stan was absolutely correct. The chemistry that was already brewing was that foretelling of three great friends. "Interested in coming with me to look at the bakery? I can smell it from here and I want to see what they have." Eddie only smiles wider. He nods his head without seconds thought, only trying for a second or two to catch Bill's gaze before just giving up and following Stan out of the hallway and towards the back of the building. Matching him step for step, the two picked up a much more comfortable, much more pleasant conversation that Eddie actually enjoyed having. "The curly haired one sure talks a lot. What are the chances that we're seeing him again today? How many grocery stores are there in Portland?"

"Apparently just the one. Some higher power must hate me to make me run into him again." Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, and Stan let out a snicker, gently bumping his elbow into Eddie's and quirking a brow. In return, Eddie's own brows bent down into a questioning furrow. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face or something?" One hand lifted to wipe at his cheek but it came back clean. Stan just shook his head, a small smile ghosting his lips as they arrived at the bakery. "Oh sweet, sesame bagels!" His attention redirected, Eddie dismissed the odd look and moved to stand right in front of the glass, hovering over it and scanning it's contents but never putting his hands on it. That was icky, in his opinion- Stan was at his side moments later, scanning over the iced sweets just next to the bagels that had caught Eddie's eye.

"What do you want to bet Bill won't want us wasting our money on any of this?" Stan said with a grin, gaze still glued to a tantalizing slice of carrot cake.

"My soul. How much extra cash do we have to waste?" No one needed to speak another word. The two made a silent agreement- buy whatever the hell you want and defend your purchase with your life. Neither Stan nor Eddie would let Bill scold them for this. They deserved some sort of 'welcome to Portland' treat. In the end, they were both walking away with quite the haul- Eddie had secured a bag of six of those sesame bagels, and Stan had bought the carrot cake along with a loaf of banana bread. Just as Stan passed over the cash needed to pay for the treats, Bill stepped into view, hurrying in their direction with his grocery basket filled with whatever other food the three needed to last them a week.

"Wuh-what did you two get your hands on?" Bill doesn't waste a minute to start interrogating, though the smile on his face betrays his attempts at scolding the two. He doesn't even make them explain themselves, jumping to the next topic right after and beckoning with his head for the two to follow him towards the checkouts, "We should cuh-come here from now on. I like supporting luh-luh-local businesses. It's good for the economy or something, and Mike is n-nice." Eddie almost let out a groan- that was the last thing he wanted, because then he risked running into Richie again. It seemed he and Mike, one of the grocers, were good friends. Why else would he be worried for Richie's well being? Still, Eddie bit his tongue, instead answering with something less rude and more civil.

"We could, or we could go to a bigger store. They'd have more options- we'd probably get better deals, too." Clutching his bag of sesame bagels and hoping Bill would take the bait, he continued in his attempts to convince him, "Here, they've only got so many different things. If we went to the Superstore a ways away we could pick out healthier foods and stuff and probably save a ton of money."

"Eh," Stan answered rather than Bill, holding a hand out in the redheads direction to silently offer a turn carrying the basket, "I like it here. It's quiet, and it's all family run. There'll be less processed items available. You hate processed foods, Eddie, you should love it here- it's all organic." For some odd reason Eddie felt like Stan was maybe... plotting something? The curly-haired boy seemed awfully suspicious. Usually, he just went along with whatever else was decided, and rarely bothered to help in decision making. He never minded what Bill or Eddie chose because, as far as he was concerned, they were both logical and made great decisions. Alarm bells rang in Eddie's head and curiosity began to bubble within him. What was Stanley getting at?

"Luh-let's see how everything plays out. Maybe w-we'll end up going somewhere else next w-week, buh-but we don't ne-need to decide r-ruh-right now." The three arrived at the till.

"Good morning," The lady behind it looked about their age, with bright eyes and glowing sepia skin, her hair frizzy and light, like a cloud around her head. Her name tag read 'Jennifer'. "Chilly day today, isn't it?" Jennifer got right to work, not even glancing down at her hands as she scanned one item and then the next in rapid succession with memorized ease. Bill and her picked up a natural conversation, his great people skills showing through now more than ever. Bill brought up Mike, and the three found out that he was Jennifer's cousin- they also discovered that hers and Mike's grandparents owned the store and kept it running smoothly. Before they knew it, everything was bagged and ready to go. Stan, Bill and Eddie distributed the bags between them, said their goodbyes to the kind girl behind the counter, and made for the doors. The chill that had been in the air when Eddie had first arrived had eased, just a little. The sun peaked out timidly from behind thickening swaths of darkened clouds, and the taste of rain hung heavy on the breeze.

"We should get a cab. I swear to God, if it starts raining and I catch a cold I'm blaming it on you guys." Eddie grimaced as he looked up towards the sky, and the three set off back in the direction of home.

"What are we doing for the rest of the day?" Stan asked, staring up and around at all of the buildings lining the street, taking in every little detail Portland had to offer. Bill was doing just the same as he answered,

"I have nuh-nothing planned. I might take a n-nap or suh-humthing like that before the party." Eddie let out something akin to a scoff, though it sounded more surprised than hostile or anything negative like that.

"Don't you still have unpacking to do? You can't seriously be finished, can you?" Bill shrugged his shoulders, shuffling his grocery bags from one hand to the other. Eddie took that as a sign that Bill was, in fact, done with his unpacking. How, Eddie had no idea- shit, he's hardly finished half of his, and Stan couldn't possibly be done either with how much of a perfectionist he was. As if to prove Eddie wrong, Stan spoke next.

"I finished earlier this morning. You aren't done? How much do you have?" Eddie had brought his biggest suitcase from back home. After all, he had basically taken everything he owned with him; his entire closet, his whole medicine cabinet, more miscellaneous things like some toxin-free cleaning supplies- getting everything into a convenient spot (and needing to clean those convenient spots first) took time and effort and Eddie tended to get distracted. It made sense that he wasn't done yet, but he hadn't expected the other two to have finished so quickly. "That's alright, it's fine," Stan continued, cutting into Eddie's thoughts, "I can help you if you want me to?" Eddie was quick to deny that offer.

"Thanks, but I'm more than capable of putting my own shit away. You guys can do whatever- don't worry about me." Sooner or later, the three arrived back at home, and Bill offered to unload to groceries which left Eddie to get right to work. When they arrived back up in their apartment, Eddie dropped his grocery bags in the new, untouched kitchen and dismissed himself to head for his room. Straight down the hall from the kitchen sat Eddie's door, and behind that, his bedroom, perfectly neat and tidy. As he stepped inside, he took in the sight of it all again with a burst of pride- this was his room, and he finally had the privacy he had always craved. To the direct left of the door sat a small set of drawers with a sizable mirror mounted just above it. Facing those drawers was the king-sized bed fitted with sleek grey sheets and a whole seven pillows of different sizes. Underneath the bed was a rug, the floor a pale hardwood- two bedside tables sat on either side of the bed and a door to the closet was to his right. Finally, the piece de resistance were the large double-doors that led to his own private balcony- since Bill's room had an ensuite and Stan had a walk-in closet, he had scored the balcony and he was more than excited.

At last, Eddie stepped into his room, pushing the door near-shut behind him. The white, cold light filtering in through the glass panes of the balcony doors washed everything around him in a pale luminescence. Any minute now, he was certain, rain would start to fall, and he was glad to have made it home before getting caught in it. Eddie made for his suitcase, which was set at the foot of his bed. It was huge, silver, heavy-duty and still half-full despite a whole hour of unpacking. Pushing it onto it's side, Eddie pulled on the zipper and flipped open the top, not wasting a minute as he began to pick out the pharmaceuticals tucked within. Despite escaping his mother, he hadn't escaped old habits- paranoia still gnawed at his insides whenever he thought of sickness, his own weakened immune system- he pushed the thoughts away and began to arrange his assortment of emergency medications on top of the drawers. As he did so, he stared at his reflection in the mirror- the fear of sickness was, at once, forgotten. Instead, he found himself soaking in the feeling of his newfound independence. Eddie had finally left the nest for good.

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rohad93 · 4 years ago

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: Ch 1

Because I couldn't help myself. This was inspired by a piece of fanart i saw. This is also on AO3

After the events of the last week it felt strange to just go back to school like she hadn’t gone up against Belos and everyone hadn't seen her rescue Eda and escape from the Emperor's coven and petrification.

It was weird, to say the least, but then again, there was never a day in the Boiling Isles that wasn't weird in some form or fashion if she were honest, she'd gotten pretty used to rolling with the punches in the last month though if she did say so herself.

This was a little different of course.

Gus and Willow had come by the very next day to check on them and get the rest of the story they’d missed after they’d gone to get Eda.

She could tell that her friends were disappointed that she hadn't come to them or even talked to them about it before throwing herself headlong into danger as she had been want to do as of late, but she had already dragged them into this mess with her once and she’d decided that was to many times, especially now that she had a better idea of what kind of real danger the Emperor posed.

She'd managed to pull one over on him and prove he wasn't invincible, but she also knew he was just messing with her, despite her giving it her all and pulling some rather dangerous stunts to boot.

She couldn’t decide if she was becoming more reckless or if she always had been and the Isles just really brought it out in her what with all the… well, dangerous stuff.

Eh, unimportant right now.

They decided it was probably better for Eda and Lillith to lay low for a while and stay inside the house for now, not draw any attention to themselves, difficult as that was for Eda. Lilith would help keep her wrangled, and maybe King.

Though he was just as likely to egg her on as anything else.

Since they weren’t leaving the house Eda couldn’t take her to school on Owlbert, so it was just her and her trusty legs walking to school that morning. She was a little nervous at the prospect of facing… well, everyone.

Everyone had seen her and as the only human on the Isles she wasn’t exactly hard to miss on a regular day much less when being broadcast by crystal ball to everyone.

Her fingers played with the strap of her bag nervously.

She met up with Willow halfway and some of her fears were temporarily relieved as they walked the rest of the way, chatting animatedly. She almost completely forgot about her worries until the school came into view and she could see all the students moving about outside and on the front steps.

Her grip on her bag tightened again and her shoulders bunched up around her ears.

“You ok?” Willow seemed to quickly pick up on her tenseness.

“Yeah…,” she started slowly, eyes darting around the field out front of the school, no one seemed to even be looking at her, anymore than usual that is, even as they walked right up to the school steps where Gus was waiting for them, waving. “I guess I just thought… I dunno, that after what happened more people would be… talking about me?” She wasn’t really sure what she had been expecting.

“Well, you had your cloak up the entire time and the Emperor did say the titan told him to free Eda, so you’d be included in that.” Gus shrugged.

"Gus and I recognized you, but we're together all the time too," Willow added.

“Yeah, I guess…” She wouldn’t say she was disappointed by the lack of attention, it was just so, anticlimactic she supposed. Luz didn’t mind being in the spotlight, but she didn’t actively seek it either.

The bell screamed its first warning toll and all the kids roaming around outside the school began making their way inside.

“See you guys later!” Luz waved as Gus and Willow headed off to their perspective classes, waving to her over their shoulders as they disappeared in the crowd of students.

Tapping a finger against her cheek she had to think for a moment to remember what track classes she had today. There wasn’t enough time in the day for her to take all nine tracks a day so it had to be split over the five weekdays.

It was Monday, so she had beast keeping and potions. She grinned at the thought. She loved learning about all the tracks, but beast keeping was especially fun.

She never got to practice manticore taming or griffin riding back home after all!

She paused mid-step.

Home

The thought made her frown but she tried to shake off the heavy feeling that had settled over her, there was no point in moping about it right now. She did what she had to do, for the good of everyone… and it was her fault that they had been put in that situation to start with, it was only right that she fix it.

Eda was already looking into it but there were other things going on that needed her attention to, and that was fine! Luz knew what she was doing when she’d done it.

She guessed these were just the consequences of her actions catching up to her that her mom had always been warning her about. Maybe now she’d start learning to look before she leaped.

She had started back toward the steps only to be stopped again.

“Luz!?”

She immediately recognized that voice as she turned around to come face to face with Amity as she jogged up to the steps, her abomination trailing behind her as it carried her books. She stopped a few feet from her.

“Hey Amity! You're out of your cast!” Luz grinned at the sight of her friend finally out of bed and back at school.

“Huh? Oh, yea, a few days ago.” She seemed to fidget as she tucked a stray strand of mint colored hair behind her ear. “Forget about that though!” she seemed to focus again, looking at Luz with a frown, face set in a stern look. “What happened?!” she demanded.

Luz frowned, fingers twitching over the rough canvas strap of her bag, she didn’t need to ask what Amity was talking about, she could only mean the whole petrification, escape from the emperor’s coven thing that had been broadcast across all of the Boiling Isles, she’d no doubt seen it.

“Ah well, it’s kind of a long story…” she rubbed her arm and laughed nervously. Amity did not look at all impressed by that answer. “If you want to meet at the library after school I can explain it all,” she offered. She felt bad that out of all her friends Amity was the only one completely in the dark since she didn’t even know about Eda’s curse or had gone with them on the trip to the Emperor’s castle.

Amity didn’t look satisfied with the answer but just as she opened her mouth to speak the bell screamed again, it’s last call for students to get to class before they were tardy and if Luz knew anything at all about Amity, it was that she loved Azura and was never late.

“Alright, I’ll meet you there,” she agreed, though she still didn't look happy about it.

Amity quickly hurried off to class with her abomination, leaving Luz standing there before she smacked herself in the forehead with her palm.

"I'm gonna be late!" She helped before taking off in the direction of beast keeping 101.

~ ~ ~

The day seemed to fly by after she actually made it to class.

It was nice to have something else to occupy her mind other than impending doom in one form or another.

Potions always took all her concentration, unless she wanted to accidentally turn a potion for curing mild rashes into a literal bomb.

...It had happened before...

It had only been a small explosion and her teacher had quickly put out the fire though.

Now that she thought about it, that would have been so much more useful last week.

She pondered the merits of magical bombs in convenient, throwable glassware as she walked quickly through the Bonesborough market toward the library.

She'd been a little slow cleaning up after her potions class and had ended up staying a little long. Amity would probably be waiting on her already, she was punctual to a fault.

She skipped up the library steps two at a time and quickly snuck by the librarian at the front counter when he wasn’t looking.

After the time she had gotten kicked out with the Blight twins, she wasn’t sure she was exactly welcome in the library, so it was better to just not let the librarian see her really.

She snuck quietly through the halls to the romance section. It was devoid of people as it typically was.

She scanned the shelves before smiling as her eyes settled on a book. ‘The Lone Witch and the Secret Room.’

She pulled the book out and shoved it back in, there was a loud click as the shelf slid away to reveal Amity’s secret room.

Amity was already waiting inside for her, curled up in the corner on some cushions, a book splayed across her lap as she stepped in, letting the shelf slide back into place behind her.

“Hey” She held up a hand in greeting. “Sorry it took me a little longer than normal. I had to clean up after potions.”

“It’s alright, Luz.” She closed her book and motioned to the other cushion several feet away. Luz dropped her bag and plopped onto the floor,crossing her legs as she looked up at the youngest Blight and smiled.

Gold eyes flitted away and cheeks took on a rosy hue. Luz wondered if Amity was hot, it wasn’t bad in here but some people ran warmer and colder than others.

“So…,” Luz started, unsure.

Amity seemed to jolt as her eyes were once again on the human and her expression morphing into one of serious expectancy.

"What happened last week?"

Straight to the point then. Luz nodded as she started with Eda's curse and the field trip to the Emperor's castle.

Amity's face seemed to shift through a myriad of emotions over the course of the story, especially when Luz talked about how Lilith had kidnapped her and tried to kill her.

The horror on her friend's face and those intense gold eyes focussed on her made Luz self conscious and she pulled her knees up to her chest but didn't stop her tale. She squeezed her legs as she got lost in thinking about it.

Amity wasn't the only one experiencing a lot of emotions right now.

The fear as Eda sucame to her curse and later the rage she felt anytime someone so much as uttered Lilith's name or she saw one of those dumb posters made her whole body shake, and finally the helplessness and sorrow as she'd handed over the portal and then had to burn her world away in a flash of fire. All of it came back to her so easily, still fresh on her mind even as she tried not to think about it too hard.

"So, you can't go home?" Amity finally asked quietly after a brief silence following Luz’s explanation of everything that had happened.

She shook her head sadly, eyes downcast and quiet.

Amity hesitated a second before reaching over to set a hand on one of Luz's, resting on her knees and making her look up, brown meeting gold.

"I'm sorry, Luz…" She squeezed gently.

The small touch and the look on her friend's face caused a comforting flash of heat in Luz's chest.

"Thanks… Eda's working on it so…" She shrugged.

Eda who was also without magic, which Amity knew now.

“I’ve seen the owl lady do some pretty impressive things, I’m sure she’ll figure something out.” Amity gave a final squeeze before pulling back, trying to will away the touch of pink on her cheeks, now wasn’t the time for it and she scolded herself for the automatic response.

“Yeah…” Luz nodded to herself, a small smile managing to pull at her lips, which made Amity smile in turn.

“I can’t believe how selfless you are sometimes… destroying the portal to save Eda…,” Amity said, fiddling with her hands now sitting folded in her lap.

“It was my fault she got caught in the first place, I had to fix my mistake…” Luz shrugged, a little flustered by praise she hardly deserved. “She didn’t leave me… I couldn’t leave her.”

“Most people wouldn’t have done that, even if it was their fault,” the young witch insisted.

“Maybe…” Luz shrugged again but couldn’t help the widening of her smile.

Amity glanced at the clock on the wall, her smile turned into a grimace, they had been here longer then she had planned.

“I need to head home…” Amity stood and Luz followed suit as they headed out of the secret room, checking quickly to make sure no one was around to see them as they headed out.

“I have abominations and illusions tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you in class.” Luz smiled as they stepped outside the library.

“Of course…” Amity nodded but she seemed distracted as they paused at the top of the library steps.

“Amity?” Luz called and again she was focussed on her, but the look on her face was one Luz had seen before, she was thinking.

She hesitated a second, looking around the empty area outside the library before closing the two feet of distance between them.

Luz could only blink as Amity's arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace, chin tucked into her neck, mint green filling the latina's vision.

"I'm so glad you're okay."

It was said so quietly she almost missed it, hardly a whisper, breathed against her neck.

Warmth immediately flooded her chest at the quiet murmur.

Before Luz could reach up to return the embrace Amity was already pulling away.

“See you tomorrow, Luz.” she called as she hurried down the library steps, never looking back and leaving Luz standing there, stunned, in her wake.

“Bye…” she held up a hand in farewell at the retreating witch’s back.

Why was her face so warm?

Shaking it off, Luz adjusted her bag as she hurried back to the owl house before Eda could wonder where she was.

The heat in her face faded quickly but the warmth in her chest lingered all night.

The minute Amity set her things down on her desk she caught sight of the Emperor’s coven poster, with Lilith Clawthorne staring back at her with a smug smile.

With a frown Amity ripped the poster from the wall and stuffed it into the trash can next to her desk.

#Amity Blight #Luz Noceda #Lumity #Eda Clawthorne #Willow Park #Gus Porter

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crystalwillow · 4 years ago

Text

Baby Fever

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

I would like to apologise in advance for this being the most lacklustre thing I’ve ever written. I lost my spark midway and it kept coming back in fits and starts. I might write a part two in the future just to bring this idea some justice. But, the fact I promised myself that I would post this before the end of 2020 and was not following through on that has been eating away at me. Again. I apologise for the lacklustre quality but I hope you can find some joy with in it 🙂

===============================

Casey sighed as she looked up and noticed her boyfriend of 2 years, Rafael, zoned out as he leant on the side of the ambulance bay.

"Are you ok?" She asked, aware of what he was trying to do.

Rafael nodded as he stood up straight. "Yeah, I'm good. What did you want to talk about?"

"We’re at the hospital. Can you stop thinking about him for a second? I’ve told you, our relationship outside of work goes no deeper than a friendship. I would never cheat Rafael."

"Fine...I'm still wondering how a hospital gets a full-time groundskeeper, when it’s basically on its last leg." he replied, jotting something down on the clipboard in his hands.

Rafael was a longtime paramedic at Edenbrook. He had already been there 3 years when Casey started her residency 2 years ago. But he was also a family man at heart, unlike Casey, who looked to every other point of contact in her life for fulfillment.

“Look, am I going to miss working in this field without Bryce to turn to when I’m stressed and can’t find you? Yes, he always made me feel like he had my back no matter what. Just like you do. But... maybe this place closing down is some kind of sign for us.” Casey said.

She then zoned out herself as she thought of the living arrangements they had put in place with the closing of the hospital, and both of their worlds having been turned upside down. The plan was to move in with Casey’s family until they got back on their feet, and could afford a place of their own.

“I’m going to miss my job and this place terribly, I’m going to miss the people that I’ve worked with pretty much every day for the last five years.” said Rafael as he nodded to the building.

“Yeah. Me too.” Casey sighed, snuggling into his side with a smile. Rafael wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly, kissing the crown of her head as she buried her face closer into his chest. Their moment of silence was interrupted as Rafael’s radio crackled to life, informing him of an accident and they pulled apart with a sigh as another paramedic came crashing out of the bay doors.

“I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you after work.” He hurried and pressed a quick kiss to Casey’s lips before opening the driver’s side door and hopping into the ambulance. Casey stood back as the engine of the ambulance came to life, and waved as Rafael sped off towards the accident.

--- a few hours later ---

Casey was at Rafael’s apartment watching TV when she heard the door open and close again, followed by a long and weary sigh. But she was tired and didn’t feel like calling out to him, especially after their almost mini fight earlier. The air was still tense around the pair as Rafael entered the room.

“Oh. You did decided to stay the night.” he snarked and he entered the kitchen.

“Mmmm.” she hummed tiredly.

“Nice. You can’t even afford me the courtesy of saying a simple ‘yes’ in reply to that.” he snapped further.

Casey rolled her eyes and just refocused her attention to the television as Rafael rifled through his cupboards and fridge looking for something to put together for his dinner. As he opened the fridge his heart stopped temporarily. There on the shelf with his name and a sticky bow on the carton was something from his favourite take out. He closed the fridge and went back into the living area.

“Case?” he said, but she didn’t answer. “Casey. Did you order food for me?”

“What would you care?” she snapped back, eyes completely trained on the screen in front of her. The only thing on her mind bringing her joy was the bond she witnessed form immediately between a mother and her newborn baby, that she helped deliver towards the end of her shift.

Rafael sighed deeply from where he leant on the door frame, realizing he was being a total douchebag. He pushed himself upright and walked over to the couch taking a seat next to Casey, but she slid away from him.

“Casey babe, come on. Don’t be that way.” He pleaded.

“Be what way? Rafael.”

Rafael inwardly winced as he visibly cringed at the use of his full name in that harsh tone.

“Look. I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been completely unreasonable with you pretty much all day. I’ve been a shit boyfriend today. How can I make it up to you?”

Casey glanced sidewards before reluctantly turning the TV off and turning her body to face him. “Well for starters, you can tell me why you suddenly seem to feel so threatened by Bryce.” she said.

“I don’t know.” he sighed. “I guess I just feel like you have more fun with him than you do with me. Your own boyfriend.”

“I do have fun with Bryce. You’re not wrong there. But I don’t have more fun with him than I do with you. Yes we have loads of drinks together. Play darts and pool and tons of high school games like truth or dare. But that’s exactly why we’ve stayed friends. Because we enjoy doing that stuff together, but we hate being vulnerable and sappy with each other. I couldn’t cuddle by the fire with Bryce and talk about how dorky I used to be as I think about a future with him like I do with you. I’m with you for more than just having someone to have as a drinking buddy or, excuse my use of this term, a fuck buddy. I’m with you for the long haul because I want to be, and I enjoy all of the dorky things we do together. I couldn’t do those with him.” Casey explained as she took Rafael’s hand in her and idly played with his fingers as she spoke and kissed his knuckles when she finished.

“Really?” Rafael sniffled after a while.

“Really.” she confirmed with a smile.

Rafael nodded as he swallowed his tears. “Okay. What else could I do?”

“Smile. Come back to the old you who wasn’t so nervous. I get that the fact we’re getting ready to move in with my parents isn’t exactly the most calming thing. But... we’ll be okay.” Casey reassured, pulling herself closer and kissing Rafael on the cheek sweetly.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while longer, cuddled up and staring out the window over the city below as people entered and left the establishments outside, until Rafael left out a sigh.

“How was the rest of your shift?” he asked.

“You mean apart from this frustratingly hot paramedic avoiding me all 4 times I tried to approach him?” They chuckled softly together. “It went pretty well. I helped deliver a baby, and the moment was so magical. The bond that was created almost immediately, as soon as I placed the beautiful baby girl on her mother’s chest.” She explained with a faraway tone in her voice as she stared into the night wistfully.

Rafael smiled. “being there for a delivery of another life is magical. It’s a feeling you can’t describe.” he agreed with a nod.

“Yeah. It’s the same every time and I’ve only helped out with about 20 in my career so far.”

“I’ve had more than that.” Rafael teased.

Casey chuckled softly. “Do you want children?” she asked curiously, tearing her gaze away from outside and pointed it up to Rafael’s face.

“Uh..” he said, with a surprise look on his face. “I suppose I’ve never thought about it in a serious way.”

“Oh. Okay.” Casey smiled, a sadness in her eyes as she looked away.

“But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t think about or talk about it with you. If you wanted to maybe start a family one day?” he added quickly.

“Truthfully?” Casey asked hopefully.

“Of course. I’d love to talk about starting a family with you.” he smiled.

Him lovingly before giving a sweet smile and hiding a yawn behind her hand.

“Come on.” He chuckled lightly, gently shaking her by the shoulders. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah.” Casey smiled clinging onto Rafael’s shoulders as he stood up with her in his arms, carrying her to his bedroom.

--- Two Weeks Later ---

Rafael and Casey sat out in the med bay eating lunch together, the topic of their conversation being their future.

“So what would you name a child if it was a boy?” Casey quizzed.

“Easy. Batman.” Rafael grinned.

Casey rolled her eyes playfully as she took another bite of her sandwich. “Be serious.”

Rafael pouted. “Well you’re no fun are you?”

“I’m plenty fun, thank you.”

“You sure about that babe?”

Casey raised an eyebrow as she sipped her water.

“Okay! Okay! You’re fun.” Rafael surrendered with a light chuckle.

They basked in the comfortable silence for a moment as they stared out at their surroundings.

“I’d call him Leonardo Lucas Aveiro. That is.. if his last name being Aveiro would be okay with you.” Rafael spoke softly, breaking the silence as his gaze landed on Casey.

“Well I’m hoping it could maybe be my name someday. When you’re ready of course.”

“I... hadn’t thou-” he started to stutter but Casey cut him off with a kiss.

“I said when you’re ready.”

“I... O-okay.” Rafael smiled and pulled her close.

--- 2 months later ---

“Is that the last one?” Rafael asked Casey as she carried a box out of his apartment.

“Yep. That’s the last of them.” she confirmed.

Rafael closed the car door as Casey got into the driver's seat of her car and started the engine waiting as Rafael settled beside her in the passenger seat. Then they were on their way to Casey’s parents house. The start of the drive was quiet and calm, the two of them too tired to talk. The night before they had stayed out late with their friends to celebrate their last night together before they moved to separate parts of the country and it was harder to meet up. The night was fun but it went on longer than expected and left them very tired for this journey. Halfway there they made a stop at a diner for lunch and to stretch their legs.

As they entered the diner, Rafael excused himself to the bathroom whilst Casey got them a table. When he came back Casey had ordered them drinks and was now looking at the menu.

“How are you today?” Rafael asked as he took a set next to Casey in the booth.

“I’m okay. You?” she asked back.

“Well, I fell asleep so I feel better. Let’ swap for the last part of the trip so you can get some more sleep too.”

“That’s… thanks.”

Rafael smiled and pecked the tip of Casey’s nose before picking up the second menu on the table and looking it over.

“How about we go all in with Mac’s Mighty All Day Brunch?” he asked.

“You know I’ll literally explode…. Right?” Casey questioned with a quirked brow.

“I mean if it’s on the menu…and you need something to put you to sleep...”

“So you’re planning my assissination right to my face?” she joked and Rafael chuckled richly.

“If you want to call it that.”

“I do tend to call it what I want to..”

Rafael rolled his eyes playfully with an exasperated sigh. “You and your Taylor Swift references…”

“Hey hey hey. Don’t be getting down and out now. I’m not a liar or a dirty dirty cheat of the world.”

“You’re just getting down to this sick beat. I know.” Rafael said as he jabbed her side with tickles.

After the spontaneous tickle attack, they ordered food and large milkshakes, talking happily as they slowly emptied their plates of food before paying and waddling out of the diner, back to the car. “So. I’m driving right?” Rafael grinned.

“Yes, Rafael. You’re driving.” Casey sighed as she tossed him the keys.

The rest of the drive to Casey’s parents was peaceful as she slept in the passenger seat whilst Rafale drove them. When they arrived, Casey wouldn’t wake up so when she did it was dark and her surroundings had changed from where Rafael had carried her in and laid her in bed. She sat up disoriented and yawned, blinking a few times and letting her eyes adjust before stumbling out of her room and down the stairs following the sound of two deep voices. When she found them, the two men stopped their conversation and looked up at her.

“There she is! My little fire starter.” her dad beamed, getting up to hug her.

“Hey babe. Feel better now?” Rafael asked, wrapping his arm around her waist as she took a seat next to him as she sat down after hugging her dad.

“Yeah.” she yawned.

“I heard from Rafael here, that you stopped and had quite the feast on the way here..”

“I did. It was lovely. Where’s mom?”

“She went out to the shops. Needed a few ingredients to finish dinner. We’re having her famous beef and chicken stew, with potatoes and all your favourite vegetables.”

“I hope it’s not another mountain on my plate. I don’t know how long it would take me to tackle it.”

The three sat in a comfortable silence watching movies until Casey’s mom called them to the table for dinner.

“I’m so glad to finally be able to meet you Rafael. Casey’s told us so much about you. Hasn't she Tim?”

“She has.” Tim nodded as he added pepper to his food.

“All good I hope.” Rafael smiled.

“Oh no. it was mostly how you’re such a bad man and frustrate me with leaving your pens and paper in a mess.” Casey teased.

“Casey, don't tease him so. He seems like a nice boy.” Her mom warned.

“He doesn’t mind it. Do you babe?”

Rafael swallowed his bite of food. “I don’t mind it in moderation.”

“That means don’t do it anymore at this table tonight.” Tim said.

“So… what’s new with you guys. It’s been a while since we spoke.”

“Well, your father’s stall at the market is doing well, and my business is really picking up.”

“Aw that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you guys.” Casey smiled.

“You have a business, Mrs. Valentine?” Rafael asked.

“I do. Started it a couple of months ago in fact.”

“What do you sell or offer?”

“Homemade handcrafted soaps.”

“Ah, that’s lovely.” Rafael smiled in reply.

The rest of dinner passed by in a comfortable quiet chatter before they all retired to the living room and watched TV and played a couple of board games before they all headed to bed. The next few months passed in a flurry of activity, Casey helped her mother with her business and bringing in custom, whilst Rafael helped her father with his market stall and bringing in groceries. There were rare moments stolen where Rafael and Casey would go on dates that would usually end up with them cooing over a mother with a newborn in a stroller and they would look at each other with longing, silently communicating that they both could wait for that day in their own future.

By the time they had found new jobs and saved up enough to move out and into their own apartment, two and a half years had passed which made leaving all that much harder for them.

“Remember. Call me if you need anything Casey.” Mrs. Valentine told her.

“I will mom. I promise.” Casey smiled.

“Is that surprise ready?” Tim muttered under his breath to Rafael, who nodded in response. “Good. You take good care of my daughter now, young man.” He smiled, clapping Rafael on the back.

“Yes sir. I always will.” Rafael replied earnestly.

After a few more tearful goodbyes, Casey and Rafael were on their way to their new apartment, singing along to the radio and stopping at a Taco Bell drive thru on the way.

“I’ve got a surprise for you at the apartment.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. I um… I’m not sure if you’ll like it though.”

“You’re the king of surprises. If I don’t like it, I’ll be shocked.”

They chuckled together and a short while later were parking in the garage of the apartment complex then heading upstairs. Rafael got nervous with each step closer to the front door and Casey stopped them in their tracks.

“Babe. You’re more nervous than I’ve ever seen you. Are you alright? You’re surprise isn’t that you’ve painted our room a horrible colour is it?”

“What! No..! I wouldn’t do that, ever.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about. Come on! I’ve not seen this place yet, you’ve been super secretive about it.”

Casey grinned and pulled him towards the door, practically bouncing as she waited to be let in. Hesitantly, Rafael opened the door and Casey gasped as she stepped inside.

“It’s so spacious! …. Oh and look at the view!”

Rafael smiled as he closed the door behind them, watching as Casey padded over to the window and marvelled at the view. After tearing her from the window Rafael showed her around every room with a door open until he stopped in front of one with the door closed.

“Is your surprise behind here?” Casey asked.

“It is. But I want to know that you won’t get mad or upset. Or… think that I’m wanting to move too fast, what with us only just starting our new jobs recently and all.”

“Okay. … colour me intrigued. Open the door.”

Taking a deep breath, Rafael opened the door and stepped inside and Casey followed him into what appeared to be a nursery, complete with a crib, draws for toys, a mini bookshelf, a playmat and several other baby toys and gadgets. She gasped as she took it all in, blown away by the effort that had clearly gone into making this room. After she hadn’t spoken for a while, Rafael cleared his throat to gain Casey’s attention.

“Is … it too much? Are you not ready yet? It’s totally fine if you aren’t. We can just keep this room locked unt-”

“No. It’s… it’s perfect. I… I don’t know what to say.. um.” Casey choked on her words as she struggled to hold back tears. “We’ve had baby fever for a while now huh?”

Rafael blushed bashfully. His voice coming out barely above a whisper as he answered, “yeah..” with a slight chuckle.

The next evening, Casey and Rafael were snuggled on the couch when Casey moved to look Rafael in the eye.

“If we had a boy, what would you name him?”

“Hm?”

“Our baby. If they turned out to be a boy, what would you want to name him?”

“Leonard Rafael Averio.”

“What about a girl?”

“Isabella Casey Aveiro.”

“How long have you been sitting on those?”

“Since our 3rd date.”

Casey sat and stared at him in stunned silence. “Our 3rd… that was…”

“5 years ago? I know.” He gave a smile and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Hey! Don’t cry!” He chuckled.

“Sorry. It’s just…” she chuckled too and grabbed a tissue with her free hand and dabbed away the tears before wiping her nose. “That’s heartwarming. I mean… did you know...?”

“That I wanted a family with you back then? Yeah. I started thinking about it after our second date, but it became a more serious thought after our 3rd.”

“Oh… Raf…” Casey gasped and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was soft and innocent at first, but picked up passion the longer it went on. After a few minutes, the reluctantly pulled apart and sighed happily as they rested their foreheads together.

“I love you, Rafael.”

“I love you too, Casey.”

#choices stories you play #playchoices #pixelberry studios #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #rafael averio fanfiction #rafael aveiro x casey valentine #rafael x casey #rafael x f!mc #casey valentine #dr casey valentine

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eldritchteaparty · 3 years ago

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Chapters: 9/20 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks, Original Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane, Melanie King Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares, Fighting Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter Summary: Jon returns to work, and Melanie King interviews for a position as archival assistant that Elias forgot to mention he had posted. Martin cuts Jon's hair.

Chapter 9 of my post-canon fix-it fic is out and yes, I jumped on the haircut fluff bandwagon.

Read above at AO3 or read here below.

Tumblr master post with links to previous chapters is here.

***

Jon returned to work the day after they learned about (or more rightly, remembered) the Leitners. Martin had very mixed feelings about it. Even though Jon was eating again and getting enough sleep and making a show of taking his vitamins, Martin wasn’t sure he’d ever feel like he had taken enough time to recover. More than once, he found himself daydreaming about what it might be like if Jon just decided he was never going back to the Institute. Sure, Jon had said it wasn’t an option, but that was before—well, before now. Maybe, if things weren’t going like he’d assumed, he could be convinced to work somewhere else and finally get away from all of this. Or maybe work nowhere, if he wanted. Martin could make that work. He’d taken care of two people on one job before.

On the other hand, the Leitners had really shaken him. It felt like the Institute was sitting on a bomb that could go off at any time if someone took a wrong step—and most of the people walking on it didn’t even know it was there. If it ever had felt as simple as just leaving, it certainly didn’t now. And as long as that was the situation, he needed Jon there. They all needed Jon there.

He’d actually assumed Jon would head straight for the Leitner Room when he got back, but he didn’t. When he asked him about it, Jon’s answer was that Martin had already been there, and there wasn’t any point. That caught Martin off guard—after all, this was the man who not even two weeks ago had re-read every document Martin had tried to read for him—but when he pointed that out, Jon shrugged.

“Maybe I’m trying something different.”

Martin gave him a look. “Really?”

“Why not?” Jon gave what passed for a smile with him this week, and Martin felt like he had to accept it. “Besides, we don’t want to risk drawing attention to them. I think that’s the worst thing we could do.”

The rest of the week was mostly uneventful. Even Jon spent some time in the stacks helping out with client requests, which they somehow had still not caught up on. The only thing that stuck out was that once, on his way out of Sasha’s office, Martin found Jon at his desk going over several page of hand-written text and decided to ask him about it.

“So… Sasha said that people were still coming by with—stories, I guess?”

“Yes.”

“Is that one of them?”

“Yes, I’ve been reviewing them. Sasha really doesn’t like reading them herself, so I’m—” He looked up at Martin. “What?”

“I just didn’t realize. That’s all. That—” Martin frowned down at the papers in front of Jon. “That looks an awful lot like… well, a statement.”

Jon followed Martin’s eyes back to his desk. “I suppose it does. I hadn’t thought about it.”

Martin found the resemblance vaguely troubling, though he couldn’t put his finger on why it stood out to him. Nothing had changed, really, it was just about what it looked like. There were certainly enough other pressing things happening.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it,” Jon said, putting his hand on Martin’s arm.

“No, it’s—it’s fine. I guess I should have assumed people were still coming in… I don’t know why it’s bothering me.” He shook his head and squeezed Jon’s hand briefly before turning to head back to the stacks. “I know you’d tell me if there was anything serious. Well, it’s all serious, but anything we could—you know what I mean.”

“Martin, I—"

“No, it’s really all right. I’m just worried about everything, I guess. Sorry for interrupting.”

“You weren’t,” he heard Jon say behind him as he left.

Otherwise, though, things almost seemed to be looking up. Even Tim, spotting Martin on a ladder while reshelving some heavy volumes, commented that Jon looked better.

“I mean—I feel like he does?” Martin agreed, straining to make room on the shelf at an awkward angle without dropping the book in his hand. “I think some—time off—actually did him some good.”

“Or maybe he was so heartbroken about missing our lunch together that he decided he couldn’t stay home another day.”

“I’m sure that was it, Tim.” Martin rolled his eyes as he finally managed to squeeze the book onto the shelf.

Tim was ready to hand him another volume from the cart when he paused, looking up at Martin and down at the cart again. “Wait, was that number—did it end with .5268 or .57?”

Martin looked back at the book he’d just placed on the shelf. “Let’s see—damn it, it was .57.” They hadn’t been paying attention, and they’d managed to miss the poorly placed divider on the cart. Now Martin was going to have to get the book back out of the shelf he’d only barely managed to squeeze it onto, although that maybe explained why it had been so difficult in the first place.

“Sorry,” Tim said. “That was my fault.”

“No, not really. I could have caught it too.”

“Be careful.” Tim shifted to the other side of the ladder as Martin leaned precariously toward the book that now didn’t want to come back out. “You know, Jon’s lucky to have you to take care of him.”

Martin was glad he could blame the color in his face on his efforts to pull the book.

“Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Um—what?” He almost had it now. “I guess? Yes? What are you getting at?”

“Just that I’m still here to listen. If you want to talk about—what happened.”

The book finally came loose, and Martin barely managed to hang on to it and keep his balance on the ladder—but he did. “Here,” he said, tossing it down to Tim once he’d regained his footing. It was his only answer.

***

Even the weekend felt better. He was finally relaxing a little bit about the Leitners—after all, they’d been there for several months and nothing had happened yet, and they were flagged now if anyone asked about one. There were very few people with a key to the room—just the others in the archives and maybe Elias—and none of them were likely to take a sudden interest in them as long as they didn’t attract it.

Jon stayed in bed with him. They went to the store. They made breakfast together—well, Martin made breakfast, but it was a real breakfast with eggs and bacon, and Jon watched him make it with more admiration than it deserved. At some point, Martin borrowed Jon’s trimmer, the one he used on his beard, and finally gave himself the haircut he’d been needing. It felt nice; it felt like a normal thing to do. Afterward, he checked on Jon in the sitting room and found him reading.

“Reading anything important?” Martin asked from the doorway.

“Just a book,” Jon said, briefly holding up a small, worn paperback that Martin recognized from his bookshelf. He walked up behind the couch to look over Jon’s shoulder.

“Like—a normal book that regular people read?”

“A normal book, at least,” Jon said, temporarily closing the book on his thumb to look at Martin. “Oh. You did it. Your hair, I mean. It looks—it looks great.”

“You think?” Martin ran his hand over the shortest part, where he could feel the bristle of the fresh cut against his fingers. “You know, I think I finally found a couple grey hairs this time.”

“Get over it.” Jon lifted his thumb to check the page number and then let the book close entirely before turning to rest his head on his arms on the back of the couch. “You do not get to talk about grey hairs.”

“I wasn’t complaining, I was just mentioning it,” Martin protested. “And I like your grey, it makes you look—”

“Do not say distinguished,” Jon groaned. “Everyone always says that.”

“All right—I won’t.” Martin bent down to kiss Jon instead. Jon started to kiss him back, but Martin stood up. “No, I don’t want to distract you.”

“Oh.” Jon raised his eyebrows. “Is that how it is?”

“Yeah. It is. It’s been forever since you’ve read just a book, and—well, it was something you said you missed.” He kissed Jon one more time, but this time on the top of his head. “And… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For—for trying.”

Jon looked surprised for a moment, and then his face softened. “Martin—”

“Nope,” Martin said, backing away from the couch. “We’re done here. You read. I think I may actually go give poetry another shot.”

“Really?” Jon asked.

“Yeah.” Martin shrugged. “Some of my—his—notebooks were in the stuff from storage. Thought I might go through them and see if it’s any good. It’s not like I was doing a lot of writing—well, there.”

“All right.” Jon sat back on the couch, but turned to look at Martin one more time before opening his book. “You know—if you write anything you like, I’d—”

“Oh, don’t worry, I would never put you through that,” Martin joked. “Just—enjoy your book.”

Martin didn’t end up writing anything—just a line or two that he didn’t like anyway—but going through the notebooks was fascinating. He remembered writing most of the poems in them. For some of them, he could even pinpoint exactly what he had been thinking about when he wrote them, or what had inspired them. He wasn’t afraid anymore that he was losing memories; he found he could navigate memories from the two existences almost side by side now, if he tried. It wasn’t a perfect description, but it was sort of like comparing two different edits of the same document.

He didn’t really identify with the version of him that had written the poems in that notebook. In a way, they annoyed him; it felt like going back and reading things you wrote as a child. He had outgrown them, maybe. He felt like there was simultaneously so much more and so much less to everything he’d tried to capture than he’d understood at the time.

Still, that didn’t stop him from wishing he could have been that person, or stayed that person, or become that person—he wasn’t sure how to think of it, but there it was. He’d liked writing that poetry; it had made him happy, inane as it was. He wanted to like writing it again.

***

Of course, Monday brought another unexpected turn of events. It started with Elias walking into the assistants’ office while Sasha was briefing them on the day’s activities. He looked tired after the weekend, which Martin realized was typical for him, but also vaguely enthused.

“Everyone,” he announced, “I’ve brought someone by that I’d like you to meet. A candidate for our new archival assistant position.”

“Wait,” Sasha said, crossing her arms. “What new position?”

“The one you asked me to advertise.”

“Well, yes, but that was like eight and a half weeks ago. Things were—different. We have Jon and Martin back now, thank god. And you never got back to me, so I just assumed you were ignoring me.”

“I have never once ignored you.” Elias shook his head at Sasha in feigned shock. “And to prove it—you just told me last week you were still behind on the archiving work, and that you weren’t comfortable following up with the reports we’ve been receiving.”

“Technically what I said was that I don’t think we should be dealing with them at all, they’re really not what an archive—”

“And as I told you, although only god knows why, some of our patrons are quite interested in those reports. So, we will keep dealing with them, but this”—Elias held up a finger—“is where our candidate comes in. Look, Sasha, I really think you’ll like this—and as always, I promise you’ll get final approval.”

“All right,” Sasha threw her hands up. “Bring them in.”

“Rosie,” called Elias, “please show her in.”

Before Martin could process it, he found himself staring at Melanie King.

“Melanie,” he said, surprised.

“Oh—” Melanie turned to look at him, and her lack of recognition brought him back to the moment. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“Um,” Martin stammered. “Well—no. I guess maybe I just—feel like I know you? From your YouTube channel.” He laughed uncomfortably.

“Oh, right,” Melanie appeared equally uncomfortable. “I get that sometimes. Um—well, not all that often, actually. Sorry, tell me your name?”

“I’m—I’m Martin Blackwood. I’m one of the assistants here.” He belatedly stepped out from his desk to shake her hand, and she smiled again.

“And I’m Tim Stoker.” Tim’s relative comfort as he also shook Melanie’s hand seemed to put her at ease, at least until she rested her eyes on Jon. He was still sitting at his desk.

“Jon,” Tim prompted him.

“Hm? Oh, right, I’m—”

“I’m guessing you’re Jonathan Sims,” Melanie said.

“That’s—” He seemed mildly surprised. “Yes. I am.”

“My partner, Georgie—Georgie Barker—she’s the one who saw the ad. Said she’d heard someone she used to know might be working here, and well—anyway, we talked about it, and eventually she convinced me to put in my application.”

Jon realized she was waiting for him to say something. “Oh,” he managed.

Her smile faded slightly. “Well, nice to put a name to a face, anyway.”

Elias gestured toward Sasha. “And this is Sasha James, our head archivist.”

“Hello, Ms. King,” Sasha said warmly as she stepped forward. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” Melanie took the hand Sasha offered to her. “Mr. Bouchard—Elias—was just telling me about the work you do here, and if you don’t mind, I’d love to chat with you about it.”

“Of course,” Sasha said, leading the way to her office. “Come on in.” Elias followed behind, and they closed the door behind them.

Martin immediately pulled a chair over to Jon’s desk, leaning close and speaking quietly so that Tim couldn’t hear. “What do we do?”

Jon considered. “Nothing, I suppose.”

“But, well—can she—I mean, if she signs a contract, will it be like—”

“No,” Jon shook his head. “No, definitely not.”

“Are you sure?” Martin was still worried. “How can you—”

“I’m sure,” Jon said definitively. “No one’s getting stuck here. Look—that was all Jonah Magnus’s doing, completely. He doesn’t exist here, and when he did, he certainly didn’t have the ability to trap people in his employment.”

“Hm.” Martin still wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Martin, it’s fine,” Jon said, taking his hand. “If it weren’t—if I had any doubt—I’d stop it. I’d find a way. I wouldn’t let her go through that again.”

Martin nodded; Jon’s confidence, at least, gave him confidence. He went back to his desk and continued organizing his tasks for the day, although he was so distracted he hadn’t made much progress when Sasha’s door opened again. She walked out and closed it behind her, leaving Elias and Melanie inside.

“What do you all think?” she asked.

There was a brief silence, and then Tim spoke up first. “It’s a surprise, for sure, but if having someone else around helps you out, I’m all for it.”

“Well, she certainly doesn’t have the sort of background we usually look for, but as Elias pointed out, she has a lot of investigative experience.” Sasha leaned back to sit casually on the round desk in the middle of the office. “Normally that’s not something you’d need in an archive, but as long as we’re being asked to start following up on some of these statements—”

“I can follow up on those,” Jon interrupted. “She doesn’t need to—"

“Jon, onsite research and interviews are exactly what she does.”

“Yes, but as you’ve said, her credentials aren’t—”

“Oh, you’re a certified private detective?” Sasha asked with a note of sarcasm.

“I just meant for an archive—”

“I understand, and credentials are important, but I think we can also all agree that Martin, for example, has become an excellent assistant.”

Tim snorted. “Jon, I dare you to argue.”

Jon ignored him.

“Anyway, Jon,” Sasha continued, “I haven’t forgotten you’re interested in the statements too—I was going to ask you if you wouldn’t mind helping Melanie get adjusted. You know, help her out a bit. That’s assuming we go ahead with the offer and she accepts.”

Jon thought for a moment, then sighed. “All right. Yes.”

“Good,” Sasha said. “Martin, any thoughts?”

“Um—no,” Martin said. “I’m sure she’ll be—she’ll be fine.” Jon had said it would be fine.

“All right,” Sasha said, standing up. “I’ll tell Elias to make the offer.” She disappeared back into her office.

When they came back out, Melanie was smiling and chatting happily to Sasha about an episode of Ghost Hunt UK she and her crew had filmed in Glencoe. Part of Martin was still very nervous for her; the Institute clearly wasn’t the safest place in the world, even if she wasn’t caught there. Another part of him, though, maybe a bigger part, had missed her, and he would be glad to have her around—and seeing her and Sasha together gave him hope, somehow.

“Oh,” Melanie turned just before she and Elias left the office together. “Jon, Sasha mentioned that you’d be helping me get comfortable with things around here, and well—I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“Yes, of course,” Jon said, not looking up from his desk.

This time her smile vanished. “I’m sorry, did I—did I do something to offend you?”

Now Jon looked up. “What? Why would you say that?”

“It’s just—I feel like you already don’t like me.”

“I—no,” Jon said. “I’m—”

“He’s been ill,” Sasha said. “He’s still recovering. Please excuse him.”

“Oh,” Melanie said, but she looked doubtful. “In that case, I hope you feel better.”

“Right,” Jon nodded. “Thank you.”

After she left, Sasha turned to the assistants. “As you may have gathered, she’s already accepted the offer, and she’s quite happy about it. She’ll be starting on Thursday, and I’d like to suggest that instead of lunch this week, we go out to dinner that night to welcome her. Please try to make it, if you can.”

Martin wasn’t sure if he was dreading it, looking forward to it, or both.

***

“Ready for supper?” Martin asked when they got home that night.

“Actually, first—I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

“Sure,” Martin said. “What is it?”

“Would you cut my hair for me?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Martin crossed his hands in front of his chest for emphasis. “I’m no good with scissors. I mean, I could try to trim the ends if—”

“I meant like yours. Well, not exactly like yours, that’s just—” He cleared his throat. “I want it short.”

“Why?” Martin asked, taken back.

“Would you hate it?”

“No!” Martin said immediately. “No, that—it’s just a big change.”

“Yes, exactly,” Jon agreed. “I think that’s why I want to do it. I mean, I won’t insist if you don’t—”

“No, it’s—if you’re sure, I’ll do it.”

They brought one of the chairs from the balcony into the bathroom. Jon reached back to pull the tie out of his hair, but Martin got there first. He tugged it loose, straightening out the strands that got caught on Jon’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Jon asked again. “I think you’re more attached to it than I am.”

“Not really,” Martin lied, thinking about how he’d taken to brushing it out of Jon’s face while he’d been so out of it. He did kind of miss those moments. “I mean, it doesn’t actually matter how I feel, but—well, ok, give me a moment to say goodbye.”

“Whatever you need,” Jon said with amusement.

“No—no, I’m good.” Martin sighed and pulled it back again, this time into a low, loose ponytail. “So we’re absolutely going to get hair everywhere. I usually just take off my shirt and then jump under the shower afterward, but we could try a garbage bag or something—”

“I don’t mind.” Jon started to unbutton his work shirt, but then stopped. “You’re ok with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I—oh.” Martin suddenly realized he hadn’t seen Jon without a shirt on since the hospital after Hill Top Road, evidently not wanting to expose his scar again. “Jon, it’s—it’s fine. Sorry I didn’t realize before now.”

Jon still hesitated; Martin bent down and kissed him, reaching to undo the button under Jon’s fingers as he did. “Really, it’s fine. Just don’t black out.” He was trying to add some levity, although he wasn’t sure he pulled it off.

“I think I can manage that.” Jon finished unbuttoning the shirt; Martin took it from him as he pulled off the t-shirt underneath, and tossed them both out onto the bed. He deliberately avoided looking directly at Jon’s chest so as not to worry him.

“You’re really, really sure about this?” he asked, twisting his hand into the ponytail. “I mean, once this is gone—it’s gone.”

“Yes.”

“All right.” Martin took a deep breath, and with the scissors they’d borrowed from the kitchen cut his way through Jon’s hair, just above the tie. “There it is.”

“Oh god.” Jon wasn’t even looking at the hand Martin was holding up—he was looking at his reflection in the mirror and the uneven chin-length mop of hair that was left behind.

“We could leave it like that.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m kidding. Here.” He set the hair down on the counter. “Although it is kind of rugged. With your beard, you’ve got a sort of lumberjack thing going on there.”

“Right—very rugged. Until I stand up.”

“Nothing wrong there. You’d be the world’s most adorable hipster lumberjack.”

The look Jon gave him in the mirror said everything.

“All right, all right—here we go.” The trimmer buzzed to life, and bit by bit, the remaining length fell away.

“Where did you learn to do this?” Jon asked.

“Oh—I had a—a friend who taught me years ago. I used to cut his hair.”

“A friend?” Jon asked.

Martin realized he’d stumbled over that pretty badly. “A boyfriend.”

“You can say that, you know. You don’t have to hide it.”

“No—I know.” Martin stopped cutting for a moment to switch out the guide. “Or I assumed, I guess. It’s just that we’ve never really talked about any of that stuff. Well, I know Georgie, obviously—knew Georgie? But that kind of just happened. It felt weird just now.”

“Well, next time it doesn’t have to.”

“Thanks. I—I really do appreciate that.”

Jon nodded. “I’m sorry that—we really did everything backward, didn’t we?”

“Couldn’t be helped.” Martin flicked the trimmer on and off to make sure the new guard was attached properly. “I mean, there are definitely things I wish were different, but it’s not like I regret it.”

“Me neither,” Jon said.

“Besides, we’ve got time to make up for it now.”

Something about the sad smile Martin saw reflected in the mirror made him lean down and press his mouth to Jon’s bare shoulder. It was nice for a moment, but he quickly found himself spitting out hair clippings. “Ok—I do regret that.”

“Oh god, sorry.” Jon turned to try to help him brush some of the pieces off his face.

“And that is why we took the shirt off in the first place,” Martin said when they had gotten most of it, still grimacing. “Anyway, I’m almost done here—just want to get a little more off the top.”

Jon nodded and turned back to face the mirror again, and Martin continued, mulling over the day’s events.

“Jon,” Martin said, “what was with you and Melanie today? You really did seem like you didn’t want to talk to her. Are you that upset about her working on the statements?”

“No, it wasn’t that. I mean, I don’t like it—I’d rather handle it myself, or with you—but that wasn’t it.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I? There was something.”

Jon hesitated, but finally answered. “I think it’s better to—try to stay unattached.”

Martin turned off the trimmer again. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. “That’s why you’ve never taken Tim up on drinks, too, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Jon, you—you need friends.”

“They don’t need me. And they certainly wouldn’t want to be friends with me if they knew what I brought here.”

“Jon—”

“It’s just better if I keep my distance.”

“Well, I disagree. And I hope you’ll at least come to dinner on Thursday.” Martin could see there wasn’t a point in arguing at that moment. He turned the trimmer on for one last touch up, but didn’t spend much longer on it—he was pretty pleased with it, overall, and it was easy to ruin a good cut by being too picky.

“What do you think?” he asked when he was finished; he was actually nervous to hear the answer.

“It looks great,” Jon said, turning his head in the mirror to look at both sides. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“It really wasn’t that hard,” Martin answered, but now that he knew Jon liked it he had to admit he was feeling pretty proud of it.

“Do you like it?” Jon asked.

“I do.” Martin set the trimmer down and stood back to look at it from farther away. “I’m definitely going to have to get used to it—but I mean, this is easier now.” He stretched his fingers out to scratch the back of Jon’s head.

“Oh,” Jon said, tilting his head back a little. “That’s—that’s quite nice.”

“You know—” Martin started to say, but then stopped as he felt himself blushing.

“What?” Jon said. “Everything all right?”

“I just—I know we don’t usually say stuff like this, but… well, I’ve been staring at you for thirty minutes straight, and you—you’re really quite good looking.”

Jon looked at Martin with his mouth slightly open, but quickly regained his composure. “You don’t have to say it. It’s obvious you think it.”

“Well.” Martin dropped his hand indignantly. “In that case, maybe I—”

“I mean, I can’t think of anything else that would have attracted you to me, so by process of elimination—”

“Oh, shut up.” Martin leaned in and kissed Jon hard, pressing his hands into the now-short hair at the sides of his head. It had been a while since they’d really kissed, maybe since they’d made up after their argument, and Jon returned it with equal insistence. “I can’t believe you turned that into an insult.”

“Sorry. You’re right, I’m not used to it.” Jon kissed him again, gently this time. “Shall I try again?”

“All right, but me too.” Martin tilted Jon’s head up by the chin. “You’re hot.”

Now it was Jon’s turn to blush, but only for a moment. “So are you.”

“No, you can’t just say that. You really are hot, I’m—” Martin cut himself off, realizing the hypocrisy of what he’d started to say. “All right, this is hard.”

“Maybe just back to this again?” Jon reached to kiss him one more time.

“All right. Until we get more practice.” He couldn't help running his hand through Jon's hair as their mouths came together again.

He could definitely get used to it.

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