#just gonna cruise through the days until i can get the fuck out

[yutaspierced]

So I was rewatching the Eddie Gets Shot episodes (like one does late at night while catching up on admin) and ALSO thinking about Tommy’s comment that the 118 should have their own hospital wing, when my thoughts spiraled.

What if Tommy was on shift when the 133 called in Eddie getting shot? It was probably on an open emergency line, right? They identified him as “firefighter Eddie Diaz of the 118” over the radio on the way to the hospital. Hearing repeated and increasingly frantic “shots fired” and “firefighter needs help” over and over with gunshots in the background over the radio has to stick with a guy, you know? Plus, Eddie and the other firefighter who got shot were kinda infamous in LA first responder circles after that.

So when Chim introduces Buck and Eddie to Tommy before they fly off with Hen to rescue the cruise ship, that radio call echoes in his head so loud he can barely hear anything else. Oh. Eddie. Eddie Diaz of the 118.

Then he’s getting to know Eddie and hang out with Eddie and like Eddie. Of course he’d never ask, just like he’d never ask Eddie how he got his silver star. You don’t casually ask a guy to relive that kind of trauma. But it sits heavy in the back of his mind. This great guy he’s starting to be really good friends with was the firefighter that needed help.

And then he gets to hear Eddie talk about Evan and Christopher talk about Evan and he starts to truly understand the depth of Eddie and Evan’s connection.

Then he gets to spend more time with Evan and hear Evan talk about Eddie and that call over the radio rings through his mind again, because Evan. Dear god, if this is how closely these two are intertwined, what that day must have been like for Evan.

And then I got to thinking about Bobby radioing in a, “Mayday Mayday Mayday, this is Captain Nash of 118, we have a firefighter down …” and that probably made Buck a little infamous too but what if Tommy was also on shift for that and it doesn’t really hit him until the first time he sees Evan’s scar and everything clicks into place. That firefighter that got hit by lightening at the 118 was Evan and fuck that day must have been hell for Eddie.

But Tommy’s been over at Harbor for five years, right? So he might also remember the firefighter from 118 who got caught under that ladder truck because it was all over the news for a week. But it’s been a long time and the firefighter’s name kinda fell out of his head. He knows it was someone at the 118, but not anyone he’s familiar with. But Buck showed up to that first basketball game with compression sleeves and a brace on one of his legs and he made an offhand comment about an old leg injury acting up because of the rain the other night and fuck that was Evan too.

Basically, what I’m getting at and what I wanna ponder more is Tommy and these two inseparable, gorgeous, strong men he’s suddenly got in his life. And Evan, who he’s probably starting to love a little bit even though he’s wayyyyy too old to believe in silly things like that only a few months in. And Eddie. Eddie, who Evan would die for and Tommy who doesn’t have their history but might not hesitate to either. And how much pain they both have stored up in their bodies. How many times the world has tried to take them and probably will try to take them again and again. How radio sqwauks are a little more emotional for Tommy than they’ve ever, ever been in either the LAFD or the army.

Anyway this is what I’m gonna be chewing on.

[madness-of-void]

Honestly...getting real sick of the two faced bs happening at work, and the clearly obvious leading questions they have to try to make me turn on the one person they decided to make into a scapegoat coz gods fucking forbid they own up to their own shit when HR comes at them.

Darlings, you're cute, but I have played this game before back in retail. You will not fix the actual problems happening. You will not get me to play your game. The answers you want to hear, and not the ones you actually need to hear...you will absolutely fucking not get them from me.

Same shit...different coat of paint...

[katsu28]

ooooo “Making the other person a Spotify playlist with songs that remind them of their relationship and growth” for Lando???

thank you for requesting! hope you like this one <3

lando norris x reader, 1.3k, request something from here!

There aren’t many times you can get Lando all to yourself. His job comes with many responsibilities, as does your own. You understand the time and hard work it takes to do what he does day after day, week after week, and you like to think the two of you have found a way to balance it all. Dinners together whenever you can, texting and calling between meetings; you even have a shared calendar on your phones to keep track of your hectic schedules. 

Racing takes precedence on most weekends, of course. Some of them you’re able to attend, but lately things have been getting busy at your workplace nowadays, which means you’ve been working weekends too. Weekdays are slim pickings as well, with all of the traveling and training and things you have to get done as well. 

With all that’s been happening lately, you haven’t been able to spend nearly enough time with Lando. Late evenings at work, long training days—everything seems like it’s been piling up until the only time you really get to spend with each other on days that he’s home is right before bed. And even then, it isn’t long before one of you inevitably falls asleep first. 

Which is why when you miraculously find yourself and Lando with a totally empty schedule today, free of any work related commitments for either of you, you’re over the moon. He suggests a day trip up the coast, just the two of you and the open road. Honestly, you don’t even care where you go, you just want to be with him. 

You’d think he’d be sick of driving given what he does for a living, but he just presses a kiss to your temple, saying that driving with you is something he’d never tire of. 

That’s how you end up here, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of Lando’s Miura, fingers intertwined with his as he cruises down the coastline. Crystal clear water dotted with boats and even bluer skies on one side, beautiful scenery on the other, and the man you love sitting right next to you—what more could you ask for?

“Like what you see?” Lando’s teasing voice draws you out of your thoughts, and you refocus to see him still with his eyes on the winding highway ahead. But he’s grinning rather smugly, a grin that only grows bigger when you huff. “It’s alright, you can stare at me all you want. I know how sexy you think I am.” 

“That’s bold. Maybe I’m admiring the view.” 

“Yeah, and the view is called my carved-by-the-gods side profile.” 

“Someone’s a tad self absorbed. You’re voted top three hottest drivers on the grid one time and you start getting a big head, hm?” 

“I beat out Carlos, baby! Carlos fucking Sainz! You’ve seen the man, do you know how that makes me feel?” 

“Is there something I should be worried about, Lan? Are you going to leave me for Carlos?”

Lando snorts, aiming a brief but still effective skeptically arched brow at you. “Please, if I was gonna leave you for Carlos, I would’ve done it already.” 

“Oh, cheers. That’s reassuring.” 

“Happy to help.” 

“Can I play some music? I need to drown out the sound of your complete and utter betrayal.” You grumble, slouching in your seat with crossed arms. Lando laughs and nods, passing you his phone. He knows you’re just being fussy for the dramatics of it all.

You scroll through his Spotify playlists in search of something that looks interesting, but one in particular instantly catches your eye. Labeled “For my love” with an absurd amount of heart emojis after, you can’t help but feel like maybe, just perhaps this one might be for you. Or for Carlos, but you’re ninety percent sure it's you. 

Next to you, Lando inhales sharply through his teeth like he’s just remembered something, hand shooting out blindly. “Fuck, wait, hang on—” 

“Lando…” You say, only slightly teasing. All previous betrayal is instantly forgotten. You shift so his wiggling fingers can’t reach the phone, giggling a bit at the garbled noise that escapes from his mouth. He’s obviously figured out what you’ve just come across. “What’s this?” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” He sighs, cheeks already flushing pink. “It was meant to be a surprise.” 

“You made a playlist for me?” 

“Well, yeah. It’s sort of embarrassing.” He mumbles, suddenly sounding bashful.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy on me now.” 

“Alright, fine! At first it was for me. Just songs I thought you’d like, and I’d listen to it all the times I was away and we couldn’t talk. Or if I was nervous before a race and started spiraling. And then…it just turned into songs that made me think about you. Made me think about us.” 

“There’s hundreds of songs on here, how did you even—when did you even start making this?” 

Lando swallows hard, knuckles flexing on the steering wheel.

“Honestly? The day we met. Call me a weirdo, but from the moment I saw you I knew you were it for me. Took both of us a while to get our shit together, but I never stopped believing it.” He says softly, hastening a glance over at you. He smiles and shrugs, reaching out to thread his fingers through yours once again. “And the songs…I dunno, they’re just my way of remembering how we got here. I meant to save it for our next big anniversary, but you’ve mucked it all up by being nosy, so now the cat’s out of the bag!” 

“You’re so fucking cute, babe,” You coo, leaning across the center console to press a smattering of kisses to the side of his heated face. “You made a whole playlist for me and listened to it when you missed me? That’s the cutest thing anyone’s ever done, you sap.” 

“Yeah, alright. You can shut up about it now,” He grumbles, but he still looks pleased. “Have a look through it. I think I’ve got some good ones on there.” 

The more you scroll through the list of songs, the more you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It mixes your music taste and his, and in a way, it feels very representative of not only who you are as individuals, but who you are with each other.  

It reads like a letter to you, to your relationship. To who you were back then and who you are now, who you’ve grown into together. 

There’s no doubt that in the years you’ve known each other, you’ve both changed. You’ve had good times and not so good ones too, but one thing that’s always remained is each other. From friendship, to teetering on something a little more, to finally finding love with one another, Lando has been the most unwavering constant in your life. You think that deep down, it was something you already knew, even from the first time you’d met him. 

“I’m gonna fucking cry, Lando,” You whine, emotion seeping into your words.

“Why? Is it bad? Is it too much?” He looks worried, but he can’t exactly take his eyes off the road to see why you’ve had the reaction you did.

“No, no. It’s perfect.” 

His shoulders sag in relief, and the smile returns to his face. “Oh. You like it?” 

“I love it.” You lift your joined hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles that has him positively beaming with adoration. It goes without saying, but you truly don’t think you could love a person any more than you love Lando. You don’t want to, because he’s it for you. 

“You know what else?” He hums his piqued interest, likely expecting more praise. “Carlos can suck it. I got a playlist, what did he get? Absolutely nothing!” 

“For fuck’s sake, I was kidding!” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[wordsbyrian]

Surgeries and Surprises - Alex Morgan x Reader

Summary: "Skater!R gets injured", "Skater!R skates in XGames", "IDK but more Skater!R"

A/n: Look, I finally wrote a thing you guys! From multiple request for more Skater!R

Despite popular belief, skateboarding is an incredibly multifaceted activity.

There are so many different disciplines: street, vert, park, freestyle, downhill (and its variation street luge), and cruising.

For the first four, there are different competitions that skaters can compete in if they are so inclined. And in all honesty, you are usually not inclined to compete, preferring the unpredictable nature of actual street skating to the polished finish of comps like Street League, XGames, and Dew Tour.

But the chance to be one of the first skateboarders to compete in the Olympics.

Well, that’s not really something you can pass up on.

Which is why you’re skating in your 5th comp of the summer.

Not the worst schedule but you’re an idiot and made the choice to also try and get clips for your next video parts in your very limited free time.

Free time, that was only made more limited by the way you were constantly flying back and forth to France to support your wife in the World Cup.

All of this is to say that your body is currently going through it.

And, unluckily, it’ll keep going through it because XGames comps are not set up in a way that plays to your strengths, with only three 45 seconds runs to string together a line and show the judges what you can do.

Luckily, on the other hand, your flight out of Minneapolis is booked for immediately after the contest ends.

Your first two timed runs went pretty well but you know you can do better which is why you saved your best stuff for your final run.

And for the most part, your final run goes pretty well until you get to your last trick with 10 seconds remaining.

You had planned it out perfectly so that you had enough time to take a breath before giving it a go. A necessary precaution for a trick you're familiar with but not a master at, a frontside flip noseslide to fakie, especially since you’re trying it down the biggest obstacle, the 4-block rail.

A little homage to Reynolds, something you’ve been doing throughout the contest season.

Except there are a couple of problems.

The first is that, unlike Reynolds, you are not a master of the frontside flip.

The other is that after a long day of being skated by just about everyone, the rail had picked up the wax from everyone’s boards, making it slicker than you need it to be for your noseslide.

Which is why you aren’t very surprised when you hit the ground. The only surprising thing is how much it hurts.

You immediately roll over and begin to stand up and take a few steps, only to drop to one knee after barely making it anywhere.

As you try to gather the strength to stand again, you’re stopped by someone placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Stay down, Y/N/N.” It’s Reynolds. “You just used your head as a basketball and your arm is fucked. They’re bringing out a stretcher.”

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to get up again. “I don’t need a stretcher.”

His hand gets firmer and you feel him pushing you to sit down properly.

“I’m serious, Y/N, I’m serious,” he says. “I’m telling you this as your friend, not as your boss. You need to go to the hospital, your shit is fucked.”

It’s at this moment that you realize how quiet the arena is.

It’s almost as if you can hear the individualized breaths of everyone in the building and honestly, it's making your head pound in a way that you wish you weren’t familiar with.

Then you see the EmTs rolling the stretcher towards you.

“Fuck dude,” you groan, resigning yourself to your fate. “Just don’t call Alex, man, she’s gonna freak out.”

“It’s too late, she already texted me she’s trying to get on the next flight out.”

“Shit.”

The entire process of letting the EMTs do their jobs is a hassle because it’s painfully obvious that they don’t deal with skateboarders often. And it takes a lot of convincing for you to even let them strap you to the backboard.

Your memory blurs out a bit after that.

The only thing you really remember besides waking up in the hospital is telling Reynolds to make sure that they don’t give you anything stronger than a Tylenol (that didn’t happen).

When you regain consciousness it’s to the sound of voices, two you recognize and one you don’t.

“She should be coming out of the anesthesia soon,” the recognizable voice says, a doctor maybe. “In addition to her mild concussion, there were some moderate tears to her deltoid that were repaired in surgery. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about the fractures to the humeral head as we can’t cast the area.”

“She’s not going to like the sound of that,” you hear Alex say, “Not going to like that at all.”

“Unfortunately, whether she likes it or not doesn’t really matter. She needs to be in the sling for a few weeks at least,” the doctor says.

“Alright, thanks doc,” Reynolds' loud voice makes the headache you forgot you had worse. “Don’t worry Alex, she’s been through worse. Besides, the medal will make her feel better.”

“Not now Andrew.”

The door to your room opens a tiny bit and through squinted eyes, you watch as both your wife and mentor slip through the crack, closing the door behind them.

When they get close enough that you can make out the details on their faces, you stick your hand out to Alex and attempt to pull her into the hospital bed with you.

She doesn’t let you though and instead releases your hand to pull the only chair closer to the bed.

“Not so fast, hotshot,” she says, keeping her voice low.

“I told Andrew to tell you that you didn’t need to come all the way out here. You should be at home resting,” you tell her.

“And I told him that I was already on my way to the airport.”

“And I told you,” Reynolds says, frowning at you, “that I wasn’t going to risk having your wife mad at me.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“Now here’s your medal, silver’s not too bad considering you knocked yourself out,” he says, placing the item on the edge of the bed. “I’ll see you around bro.”

Both you and Alex watch as he quickly exits the room, moving sort of like his ass is on fire, and leaving the two of you alone.

The second the door fully shuts behind him you turn back to Alex and see more than her sigh deeply.

“How do you feel…”

“Why weren’t you…”

You both try to speak at the same time.

“No, you go ahead,” you tell her.

“Well, first of all, were you just about to ask how I’m feeling while you are literally laying in a hospital bed,” she asks.

You shrug somewhat sheepishly and say, “I mean you just flew halfway across the country and I know you haven’t been feeling the best lately.”

“Y/N/N, you’re ridiculous.”

“Anyway,” she says, rolling her eyes at you, “Why weren’t you wearing a helmet? You can only smash your head so many times before the damage is irreversible and I don’t like constantly being called to hospitals wondering if this time is the one.”

You take a second to let her words sink in.

She’s right.

Ever since the two of you reconnected and subsequently got together roughly 4 years ago, you’ve been injured quite a bit.

This is your 3rd concussion and 4th broken. You’ve also ruptured your achilles, cracked a few ribs, had one of your lungs collapse, and gotten over 50 stitches from various gashes gained from getting cut open skating some sketchy spots.

That’s not even counting the smaller ones that you haven’t told her about, like when you sprained your ankle visiting her during the Rio Olympics.

But admitting that Alex is right has never been something you’re great at.

So instead you just scoot over in the bed and ask her to lay down with you again.

It takes a bit of pleading but you do get her to join you and when she does, you’re quick to wiggle around into a position that's comfortable but still allows you to hold her.

With the knowledge that your current position makes it impossible for her to see your face, you can’t help but crack a joke.

“C'mon, babe, you know that helmets are for hills and hills only,” you say, finally answering her question, only to immediately recoil as she pinches you. “Okay, I’m sorry. I know I really freaked you out today and I hate that I keep forcing you to come see me in hospitals. And I…” she cuts you off.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” she protests, keeping her voice light. “I love you even though you seem dead set on destroying your body.”

“It’s not really on purpose,” you say, pulling her impossibly closer. “I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes when I skate it’s like an out-of-body experience. Nothing matters except how good it’s gonna feel when I roll away. I can barely even think straight when I’m on my board but that obviously means I don’t think about how my choices affect others and that’s not fair to you.”

When you finish speaking, the first thing you hear from your wife is a sigh that can only be described as annoyed.

“What,” you ask.

“You’re an idiot,” she says.”

“Babe,” your voice is indignant, and too loud even to your own ears.

“I’m sorry but you’re so dumb,” she says. “I’m not concerned because of how it affects me, I care about how it affects you. You’ve been acting strangely all summer and I don’t really want to see where this path takes you.”

Once again Alex is right.

And her pointing out your recent odd behavior, something you hadn’t noticed yourself, is like a bucket of ice water over your head.

Taking a deep breath, you nod even though she can’t see you and say, “I think I need to call my sponsor.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Unfortunately, between your concussion and having to travel back to Orlando, the call to your sponsor had to wait a few days.

And in those few days, you begin to really notice the behaviors Alex had mentioned.

Even before your injury, you were stressed and anxious but you had ignored it, believing it was tied to the comps and upcoming deadlines.

But now with those things mostly out of the way, the intensity of these feelings is familiar and you aren’t very fond of the places you ended up the last few times you felt like this.

And the isolation of being trapped at home, unable to do much more than stare at the walls and wait for Alex to get back from training, only made those feelings stronger.

When you’re finally able to make that call and the first words finally come out of your mouth, it’s as though the weight of the world comes off your shoulders.

Recovery isn’t an instant process but you do instantly feel a little better as you explain your recent behaviors that you now recognize as somewhat erratic.

And when the call ends, you have a list of dates, times, and locations so you can go to a meeting whenever you need to.

The only thing that's really left for you to do is talk to your wife when she gets home but that might be the hardest part.

So you wait, completing as many boring household tasks as you can to make the time pass more quickly.

It doesn’t really work that well because you only have one arm to work with. And you're just unlucky enough that it's your dominant hand out of commission.

You’re in the middle of unloading the dishwasher when you hear the front door open and shut.

It doesn’t take long for Alex to find you and in the back of your mind, you know that the only reason she didn’t shout your name across the house like she normally does is because of your lingering headache.

“Hey babe,” you hear her greet as you bend over to place a pot in its designated cabinet.

“Hi,” you respond, standing back up and turning to face her, only to see that she’s already taken a seat at the island. “Oh, that’s the serious conversation chair,” you note, going to lean on the counter opposite her.

“I mean it is serious but it’s nothing bad.”

“If it’s nothing bad, do you mind if I go first,” you ask, “Mine isn’t bad either but I finally got around to giving Noah a call.”

When you say that it's almost as though you can feel the energy in the room shift.

“How did that go?”

“It definitely went.”

“Are you going to elaborate or…”

Sighing deeply, you shuffle your feet, focusing on the way your socks slip over the tile.

“Apparently, when you’re really stressed and overly tired your brain chemistry changes,” you tell her, now looking up at the ceiling. “Which makes people look for things to relieve the stress, which can be a bad thing for addicts. And between the video parts, qualifiers, and flying all over the place, I haven’t actually had a chance to sit down and think, much less attend a meeting. But now, when I would’ve had a chance to, I can barely be in a room with lights on for more than 15 minutes.”

There’s a moment of silence before Alex responds and as it passes, you can feel your heart sink further and further into your stomach. This is the moment that she finally decides that being with you is far more work than it's worth.

Your downward spiral is broken by the sound of her voice.

“I guess that means that we have to come up with ways for you to handle stress when you're busy,” Alex says, “because you’re only about to get busier.”

“What? No, I’m not, the next two competitions are at the end of the month and I literally can’t skate for the next month and a half.”

“3 months,” she shoots back, “and yes you will.”

“You’re not making any sense Alex.”

Alex gets up from her seat and makes her way toward you. Before you know it, she’s reaching out for your good hand, which to this point has had a death grip on the counter behind you, not that you’ve noticed.

With a confused look on your face, you watch as she pulls your hand to rest against her stomach before covering it with both of her own.

Still confused, it takes you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out why she would do that.

It’s only when you remember the seemingly never-ending nausea Alex has been dealing with that you connect the dots.

“Oh shit.”

[gallaghersgal]

Vacation au + ❛ you're such a fucking tease, you know that? ❜ with Lip

sonia u rlly cooked with this one ngl 🤞 nsfw 18+. quick sex, doggy style, dom/sub dynamics, single mom reader + single dad lip. cruise au! lots of expo

vacation au + “you’re sick a fucking tease, you know that?” part of my 1,500 follower celebration (closed)

"mommy mommy!" your daughter lydia runs up to you the moment you step into the ship daycare center, ready to take her to lunch and enjoy a mommy-daughter day after a morning of mimosas and spa treatment. "can i go play in the pool with my new friends?" two adorable redheaded kids run up after her, one tugging a man around your age behind him.

"it's time for lunch baby," you tell her, kneeling down to get on her level. the other two kids plead with you, and you look from their sweet faces to the man standing behind them. "well, if..." you trail off, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"lip," he supplies.

"if lip says its okay, they could come get lunch with us?" you smile, standing again so you can offer your hand to lip. he shakes it as you introduce yourself, his son tugging at the hem of his tee.

"pleaseeee dad?" he asks, nudging the slightly older girl beside him.

"yeah, please uncle lip!?"

he concedes to their begging, reaching down to ruffle his son's hair, and the five of you head over to the on board burger joint. lydia and her new friends—freddie and franny, you learn—play together until dinner time until lip tells them it's time to leave, bringing a pout to both their faces. but he promises the kids they can play together again before the cruise is over, so they share an adorable little group hug and you take your daughter back to the cabin.

later that evening there's a 70's themed party, which you weren't planning on attending. but your younger sister insists you go after telling her about the man you'd met earlier. she even lets you borrow the dress she had brought along for the party, staying behind to watch lydia.

the dress has a deep, rounded v-neck, in a bright shade, but it doesn't matter much. ten minutes in the club with lip sees the pretty thing bunched around your hips in his cabin.

"y're such a fucking tease, y'know that?" he purrs in your ear, tip nudging at your center through the thin cotton of your panties. why didn't you wear lace? at least the lights were off.

"you're the one teasing'," you respond in a pout, ass pressing back against him. he responds with quick fingers, pulling the elastic band and snapping it against your back. cool air floods your core just as quickly, his fingers tugging your panties aside to run his length through your folds.

one strong hand presses your back into a perfect arch while the other guides his cock inside you. "hhng- shit! s'tight," he mumbles, picking up the pace after allowing you a bit of time to adjust. the cabin fills with quiet grunts, the slap of skin on skin and the melody of your moans, muffled into the soft comforter.

calloused hands grip your ass, pulling away for a second to land a smack to the area, your pitchy whines are like music to his ears. "lay down, princess. on'ya stomach, legs over the bed," lip whispers. he guides you into the position, lays his cheek against your shoulder blade, and starts to rock his hips into you again. "tha's it mama, fuck, y're so wet."

"lip, ohmygod, lip!" you cry out his length pressing into your wet heat over and over. your toes curl and you crane your neck up to catch his mouth in a kiss.

he lets out a startled "mmph," but kisses you back regardless. his tongue pushes past your lips and licks at you in a needy manner. one strong hand cradles your jaw as he pulls back to ask, "'re y'close baby? y'gonna cum on my dick?"

your voice cracks embarrassingly when you manage to respond "uh-huh!"

"c'mon, use y'words," lip encourages, his strokes slowing while his lips brush tenderly over your brow.

"i-i'm gonna cum, lip, please," your hips press pathetically back against him, wordlessly begging him to move faster. his lips curl into a smile as he fucks you at a relentless pace. words escape you completely, nothing but broken moans and babbles of his name and 'please' leave your lips.

lip shoves two fingers past your lips, soft lips hushing your garbled protests and soft gagging. as quickly as the digits were pushed past your lips they disappear. they snake under your body to circle your clit and the stimulation sends your orgasm washing over you.

he pulls out soon after, muffling his deep groan with a bite on your shoulder. thick ropes of cum paint your back, just barely missing the fabric of the borrowed dress.

[drdemonprince]

I have always had a fantasy of having anonymous sex with a stranger but never acted on it because it seems too risky, and also I live somewhere there isn't a "scene" for kink or anything. Do you have any tips for how I could make that happen safely? Or even where to start looking because I wouldn't know.

If you fuck men, it's gonna be so easy. Just hop on Sniffies or Grindr or something, explain what you are into, and talk to people to arrange a hookup that's to your liking. You can tell a friend where you will be, or require some vetting of the person before you hook up until the circumstances are to your satisfaction. If you're not a man, don't worry, you can still use these apps. There's lots of women and nonbinary people on Grindr these days, and plenty of users looking for people like you.

I'll never give advice about how to guarantee safety because there is no such thing in this life, and I don't know what "safety" means to you. But someone knowing where you are, and potentially being nearby enough to intervene prevents a lot of problems. This is part of why gay male cruising spaces are so lovely -- it's far safer to get fucked by a random dude around a dozen other random dudes than it is to take a single guy you *think* you know into your home where nobody can hear you or see what is going on. The men who frequent cruising spaces want to maintain the space's existence and do look after each other, that's how they even came to arise. I can pretty much guarantee that if you have access to truck stops, public parks, parking garages, cemeteries, or the like, there is a cruising space near you -- check out Sniffies or Gays Cruising to figure out where, or google it for your area. Cruising spaces are predominately gay, though often trans inclusive, and there are some spaces where cis women show up too -- Banana Video and Cell Block here in Chicago are examples, your area might have a lot more than you might think.

The other way to set something like this up is to advertise yourself on Fetlife or some other app that's very explicitly sexual, like Feeld. You can create the sensation of a somewhat anonymous encounter by vetting a person online and then giving them a time and a place to be, and then carrying through with the act without speaking much, or by using a blindfold.

If you meant "safety" in terms of sexual wellness and health, well, that's where educating yourself about risk factors and deciding which risks you are comfortable with and which ones you are not come in. Again, there's no perfect safety, there are risks to every decision we make -- including deciding not to have the kind of sex that you want. Barriers, testing, vaccines, PreP, and the like are probably what you want to look into using in some combination, but ultimately the decision falls on you.

Have fun!

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Part 9)

This one is fucking long. Buckle up.

Hazel came home after another long, slow day at the cafe. Business was still dull. Her only customer seemed to be The Vigilante, but things grew tense between them as she spent more time with The Noise. The Vigilante always seemed to have something curt to say. However, she hadn't seen The Noise much since he had been so overwhelmed by work. She was so bored around her house. She just sat around waiting for 7 p.m. to come. She was always excited to get her daily phone call from Theodore, even if it was just him explaining that he was too tired to talk. The time finally came, and her phone rang. She answered it without hesitation. "Hello?"

"Hey! It's me," Theodore greeted.

"Hey! I was waiting for you to call."

"I was wondering if you wanted to do something tomorrow. I know you're usually off on weekends."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"Of course! What were you thinking we do?"

"I don't know... I was hoping you would have some ideas."

"Um... Hm... Maybe we could just do something casual, like hanging out at the park or one of our houses."

"Oh! Uh... I think I'd prefer the park. I'd feel more comfortable with that."

"I understand that. It's supposed to be super nice out."

"Cool! What time were you thinkin'?"

"How about one or two?"

"One works for me. The sooner the better."

"Okay!"

"I have this thing where if I have plans later in the day, I won't really do anything else. I get stuck in waiting mode."

"Same here! I thought it was just me!"

"I think it's an ADHD thing."

"You have ADHD, too?"

"Yep! Got it bad."

"That's crazy!"

"I kind of suspected that you had it. No offense. It sort of takes one to know one."

"I guess that's true. I don't try to hide it. I guess looking back, I can see it in you now."

"It's kind of the basis of my whole character."

"I can see that."

"What park where you thinkin' we go to?"

"Hmm... There's that one in the Gnome Forest that's real pretty. We can go loiter around there!"

"I think I know which one you're talking about. I think it's literally called "Picnic Park" since nearly everybody who visits has a picnic."

"We could do that."

"Maybe. We would have to be careful of the bees, though."

"Oh yeah... I guess we could just walk around."

"If we get hungry, we could always go somewhere."

"The Gnome Forest has a lot of good places to eat."

"Exactly! So... I guess I'll see you then?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, cool! I'm gonna let you go so I can get some rest. I'm a little tired from working."

"I get it. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Yep! If anything happens, just call me and let me know!"

"Of course! Goodnight, Theodore."

"G'night, Hazel."

-

The Second Date

Hazel was ecstatic. She finally got to go on another date with The Noise. At this point, she didn't like him for being a celebrity. She liked him for who he was. Of course, she was amazed that her celebrity crush was interacting with her, but now she saw him as just a regular crush. She had waited for what seemed like forever until it was time to get ready. She didn't want to do anything special to her appearance, but she still wanted to look her best. She went to the vanity and sat in front of it. Her hair was already curled at the ends like she usually kept it.

She hummed in thought. What was she going to wear? She went through her closet and dresser drawers. After several minutes, she finally decided on an outfit; a cropped sleeveless white turtle neck with a cropped pink cardigan with high waisted straight leg jeans and white platform sneakers with pink laces. She grabbed a fuzzy white mini purse to finish her look.

She picked up the phone and dialed a cab. It arrived shortly after, and she ran into it excitedly. "Where to," the cab driver asked?

"Picnic Park in the Gnome Forest," she responded.

The pig man driving the cab nodded and drove off. She watched out the window excitedly as they cruised through the tower. Her heart fluttered in anticipation. They quickly reached the park. She paid and got out. She looked around, but she didn't see Theodore. Even though she knew better, she was worried he wouldn't show. She wandered through the park hoping to find him. He arrived shortly after she did and called out to her. She came running, but she couldn't run very quick in the platforms. When she reached him, she jumped onto him in a hug, nearly knocking him down. He caught her and twirled her around. He smelled pleasantly like a gentle cologne.

"Hey, you," he greeted with a huge smile. He was wearing a white "Thrasher" t-shirt overlapped by a denim jacket with solid black jean pants and black "Vans" shoes.

"Hey," she put her fists to her chest in excitement.

"You look cute," he scanned her from head to toe.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh," she giggled, "thanks." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "You look cute, too."

He scratched the back of his head and blushed. "Nah, I look like a mess."

"Shush," she pushed him playfully, "take the compliment."

"Fine, fine."

"So, what were you thinking we do?"

"I don't know. I was hoping maybe to just walk around and," he shrugged, "enjoy the scenery. Talk and get to know each other better. I mean, I've been so busy with work, it'd be a nice change of pace just to talk to you."

She was still smiling. "It sounds like a good idea. I enjoy simple things. I'm not hard to please. Plus, I like the flowers in the park."

"Well, come on," he held out his hand, "let's go."

She looked at his hand with a slightly shocked expression. "Oh," she grabbed his hand, and their fingers intertwined. She smiled once again. "Right." They walked side by side down a stone path. Their arms swung back and forth as they strutted along.

"So," she spoke, "how's everything been? I haven't seen you since..." She chuckled nervously, "I think the last time I saw you was when we bumped into each other at the bar?"

"At the bar," he asked, confused.

"When you were drunk."

"Oh, my gosh." He face palmed with his free hand. "I'm still so embarrassed about all of that."

"Please, you didn't do anything to upset me."

"I acted like a total fool!"

She stopped and pushed his arm to make him face her, their hands still together. "Stop it. You didn't do anything wrong. You were funny, actually."

"Was I? I don't really remember what I said."

"You were giving your pig friend a ton of trouble."

"James? Oh yeah, I always give him shit, especially when I'm drunk."

"He kept yelling at you for hugging me a bunch."

Theo chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, too."

"Shut up," she said teasingly. "It was silly. If I didn't like it, I would've just pushed you off. You know I don't take shit."

He laughed again. "It's funny when you're assertive."

"Well, people see my sweet demeanor and assume I'm a pushover. I don't stand for that."

"Oh, yeah, the pushover doesn't stand."

She hit his arm playfully, "Shut up!"

He cackled and nudged her shoulder. "Don't hit me!"

"What, you scared?" She puffed out her chest and taunted him.

He threw her arm over his head and hoisted her over his shoulder. She screeched in surprise and kicked out.

"Put me down," she yelled through laughter. "Put me down!"

"Don't dish it if you can't take it!"

He carried her for a few steps before he put her down gently. She charged at him, but he grabbed her arms. She swung around and kicked at him, both of them laughing hysterically.

"Okay, okay, okay," he said through chuckles, "stop, stop."

She stopped, and he let go of her wrists. "Don't dish it if you can't take it," she spoke in a mocking tone.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes. "Come on," he grabbed her hand again. "Let's go."

She smiled as she looked at him. "Okay, I'll behave."

"Thank you."

"For now," she giggled.

As they started to walk off, it began to drizzle. The rain started off lightly, but picked up very quickly. Before they could even process it, the rain was pouring down on them. Hazel put her hand up to shield her eyes. Theodore swiftly took off his jacket and held it over her head. "Come on," he said, "let's go to that pavilion." They ran over to a small pavilion. It covered a small patch of concrete and a few picnic tables. They sat at one of the tables across from each other. Theo put his jacket beside him. The two of them looked over and watched the rain.

"Shit, that came out of nowhere," he spoke.

"Yeah, I didn't even know it was going to rain today," Hazel exclaimed.

"It wasn't supposed to! I checked like five times."

"Aw, man." She looked at him. "Theo, you're soaked!"

"Eh, I'm okay."

"You didn't have to shield me. I would've been fine."

"It was first instinct. I mean, you're wearing crop tops."

"But you must be freezing!"

"It's a little cold, yeah. I'll be fine, though."

"No, you're gonna get sick!"

"Hazel, I'll be fine."

She grunted. "Maybe we should just... Go home and change."

"What? We've barely been here for a half hour."

"No, I mean, go home, change, and maybe do something else? We could go get food or watch a movie or something."

"Oh! Yeah, I guess that could work."

"Okay," she pulled her cell phone out of her purse. "I can call a cab and-"

"No, save your money, I'll drive us."

"What? No, no, no, I don't want to be a bother."

"Hazel." He grabbed her hand. "You're not going to bother me. Let me drive you so you don't have to take three different cabs."

"Oh, okay, fine."

"We're gonna have to run through the rain again, though."

"Alright."

The two of them got up, and Theo pulled out his keys. He went to hold his jacket over her head, but she grabbed one side while he held the other. "We'll share it," she said. He chuckled and held part of the jacket over his head, too.

He grabbed her hand. "Ready?"

She nodded at him.

"Okay, go!"

The two of them took off, laughing as they held hands. Rain soaked the jacket held above them. It was a fair distance between them and the parking area. They got to his car, and he let go of the jacket. She held it over her head as she went to the other side. He quickly unlocked the car, and they got in. They caught their breath and continued to laugh. "Holy shit," Theo sighed. His hair was dripping wet and his shoulders were drenched. Hazel only had a handful of drips on her.

"Oh, my gosh," she put her hand on her chest and leaned back into her seat. "I can't believe that just happened." She let out a small chuckle.

"I know, right?" Theo had a huge smile on his face. He suddenly felt nervous as they sat side by side.

"I feel bad getting your nice car all wet."

"Oh this? Nah, it's alright. I wasn't really looking for anything fancy. I mostly bought it so the salesman would leave me the fuck alone."

"What kind of car is it?"

"Cadillac CTS."

"A cadillac?! And you're claiming it isn't nice?" She crossed her arms.

"I'm not saying it isn't. I'm just saying, a little rain water won't hurt it."

"Uh huh, okay, you're not trying to act all humble."

"No, I totally want to impress you with my expensive-ass car," he said sarcastically.

She hit his shoulder jokingly. "Shut up."

He chuckled. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

The two of them smiled and made eye contact for a minute. Hazel felt butterflies in her chest. He started up the car and spoke, "Alright, just give me the directions."

"For what?"

"To get to your place."

"You don't want to go to yours, first? You're soaked..."

"I'll be fine."

"Theo!"

"Right or left?"

"Theodore!"

"Right or left?!"

"Oh, my gosh, you're so stubborn!"

He got a worried look on his face. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"What? Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I was just playing with you."

"Oh," he sighed in relief. "Sorry, I just... I actually can be really stubborn, sometimes."

"No, I didn't mean to alarm you." She rubbed his arm, and he smiled at her. "You can take a right out of here. Then at that tree, take a left."

"Okay."

-

It was only a short drive over to Hazel's house. It was a small, humble abode in a normal-looking neighborhood. They pulled up in her driveway, and Theo put the car in park. "Okay," she said as she unbuckled, "come on." Theo gave her a confused look. She nodded her head towards the door. "Let's go."

"Huh," he responded, "I thought I was waiting out here."

"No, that'd be rude. Now, come on!"

Theodore and Hazel quickly got out of the car and ran to the door. She unlocked it as fast as she could, and they went in. Her house was sweet but petite. The walls were a off-white color. She had a small brown love seat couch in front of a T.V. on a wooden stand. On the stand were small decorative dolls. There were family portraits on the walls, as well as some metallic floral decorations. Theo looked around feeling slightly nervous. "Stay here," Hazel poked his chest. "I'll grab you a towel. She turned the corner and opened up a small closet. She grabbed a towel and ran up to Theodore. "Thanks," he smiled as he took the towel and began to dry off his hair. "I'll be back," she spoke as she ran off.

Theodore stood there and waited. He was stiff as a board, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Her house was incredibly clean. He toweled off his shoulders and tried his best to dry off his shirt. Hazel came out pretty quickly. She came out in a over-sized pastel pink cardigan buttoned up with a lacy white camisole tank top underneath. She also wore straight legged soft pants and white Converse sneakers. Her cardigan was so big that the sleeves covered her hands, but it was one of her favorite shirts. "Sorry," she said, "I figured I'd put on something more comfortable than stylish."

"What do you mean," Theo responded, "you look cute."

She slapped him jokingly with her sleeve. "You say that with anything I wear."

"Cause you look good in everything."

She slapped him repeatedly with her long sleeves. He chuckled and put his arm up as defense. "Okay, come on," she grabbed his hand and headed for the door, "let's go to your place so you can get changed."

"Oh, uh-"

"What? You gonna change in the sewer?"

"Well, my house is sort of... shitty."

She tilted her head and crossed her arms. "Theodore. You said the same thing about your expensive car." She grabbed an umbrella with one hand and his hand with her other. "Now, come on, let's go." She opened up the umbrella as they stepped out, and they ran under the umbrella together until they got to his car.

-

They came into an average neighborhood to a medium-sized house. Hazel was a little surprised. She was expecting something big and fancy like his car was. As they pulled into the driveway, Theo sighed, "Alright, so, I'm gonna warn you now. My house is... old. I've only been in it for a few years, but I'm not necessarily the best at keeping up with cleaning or maintenance. So... It's a little messy."

Hazel shrugged. "What, are you a hoarder or something?"

"No, no. I just... hate cleaning."

"Who doesn't? I doubt your house is as bad as you think it is. You think I'm gonna care if you didn't clean the whole thing before I came here?"

"Um..."

"No! You've barely had time to sleep the last few weeks. I understand if your house is a little messy."

He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's go."

Hazel opened her umbrella and laughed as they ran to the door. Theodore was incredibly nervous. He felt a little insecure of his house at times, and now was especially one of them. He held the door for her. She closed her umbrella and shook off the excess water as she walked in. She turned around and observed her surroundings. There was a leather couch and a glass coffee table over a pale tan rug across from a T.V. on a glass mount. There were family portraits and small pieces of artwork scattered around the walls. Hazel walked in further. "This is what you were worried about?!"

"I know, it's-"

"It's fine, Theodore! It's not messy! Oh, so what? Your glass table has some smudges on it here and there. Oh no!"

"Hazel, please..."

"Theo," she walked up to him and held his upper arms. "You don't have to be insecure. I don't care. You're not a hoarder, you don't have rotting food everywhere, you don't have roaches; your house is fine!"

He sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what came over me."

"Now go get changed before you get a head cold." She patted him on the arm as he walked off. She sat on the couch as she waited. She looked around and saw a photo of a young, tiny Theodore with his mother. She smiled. It was a cute picture.

In his room, Theodore was doing his best not to freak out. Despite his opinion, his house was quite nice and humble. It wasn't super fancy like his car was, but he still couldn't seem to shake the feeling of insecurity. He got changed into a yellow hoodie with an orange hood and strings. He put on some casual black pants and slipped on some checkered slide on canvas shoes. He took a deep breath before he headed back into the living room. Hazel was no longer on the couch...

"Hazel," he called out.

"I'm in here!"

He walked into his kitchen, Hazel was just walking out of it. "Sorry," she said, "I got nosy."

"It's fine..."

"Your house is nice, Theo. It's not a mansion, but it's not a straw hut, either. I'm not going to judge you for having a few dishes in your sink."

"Oh, my gosh," he laughed it off. "You're ridiculous. So, where do you want to go?"

"Huh?"

"Well, we could go grab some food or go watch a movie."

"How about we just stay here?"

"What?"

"We can watch a movie here, right?"

"Oh, uh, I guess. I have a few movies I've been meaning to watch, I just haven't had time."

"Great! We can watch them together."

"Okay..."

Hazel dragged Theodore over into the living room. He had a couple movies on one of the shelves of the T.V. mount.

"You want to choose one," he asked her.

"Yeah, sure." She went over to the mount. She looked through three different DVDs. She hummed as she thought. "This one!" She held it up with excitement.

"Okay, cool." Theo came over and knelt down. He powered on the DVD player and put in the movie. Hazel went over to the couch and waited. As everything was set up, Theo came and sat next to her. She scooted over until they were hip to hip. She leaned her head on his shoulder and wrapped both of her arms around his one. Theo's heart was racing, and his body went stiff. She could feel how tense he was.

"Relax," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know," he sighed. "I don't know why I'm so anxious."

"I know why... but I won't say it."

"What?"

"Figure it out." She smiled, remembering what he had said to her when he was drunk.

-

After a few hours, the movie finally came to an end. Hazel and Theodore both had disgruntled looks on their faces. They faced each other.

"So..." Theodore started. "What did you think?"

"It sucked," Hazel exclaimed.

Theo burst into laughter. "Oh, thank fuck, I'm not the only one. I didn't want to seem like I was being cocky since I make movies."

"No, no, that was awful! I mean, the plot made absolutely no sense! It was so rushed. Another hour would've done the movie good."

"And maybe different writers."

"Yes! It was terrible!"

The two laughed together for a moment. "Want to watch another one," Theo asked.

"Maybe. What time is it?"

Theo looked over his shoulder. "It's 6:30."

"No, I should probably be heading home by now."

"Okay."

"I'll call a cab."

"I can drive you."

"I will call a cab. I appreciate you being so nice to me, but I'd really hate to be a bother. Truthfully, I need a little time to decompress."

"Oh, okay. I understand."

Hazel called up a cab, and it wasn't too far away. Theo walked her over to the door, and they hugged their goodbyes. As they pulled away, Theo ran his hand down her arm and grabbed her hand. He looked from her eyes to her lips then back to her eyes with a smile on his face.

"This might seem out of line," he says. "You know what? Nevermind."

Hazel tilted her head. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Come on." She stood on her toes for a second then back down. "You can tell me."

"I don't want to scare you."

"Whaaat?"

"Um..." He cleared his throat. "Can I kiss you?"

Hazel gasped. "What?!"

"Sorry, sorry, I know that was weird." Theo got incredibly nervous.

"Yes!"

"Sorry-"

"No, I mean, yes, you can kiss me!" She giggled and bounced excitedly.

"Wait, really?" He smiled, a little shocked.

"Yes! Please!"

He chuckled nervously. "Okay, um..." He held the side of her face and closed his eyes as he slowly leaned in. Hazel closed her eyes, but she started squealing and giggling in excitement. Theo pulled back and laughed.

"Sorry, sorry," she giggled, "I just... Hehehehe!"

"Just tell me when you're ready."

She took a few deep breaths. "Okay, I'm ready."

He gently grabbed the side of her neck with his other hand on her hip and leaned in, but she started to smile and squeak again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She giggled. She took another deep breath. "I'm ready, I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I promise this time."

"One more time, okay? If you're too nervous, I won't do it."

"No, I'm not nervous. I mean, I am, but I'm also just excited!" She chuckled again.

He grabbed her chin and slowly leaned in. She closed her eyes once he got close. He closed his eyes, leaned his head to the right, and kissed her softly. She put her hands on his jaw as she kissed him back. It wasn't just a small peck. It was a genuine, romantic kiss. He drew back slowly and laughed nervously. "Sorry," he apologized.

"Why are you apologizing? You're soft."

He blushed heavily. "Oh, um-"

"Can we kiss again?"

"What?"

"Can we kiss again?"

"Oh, yeah, um-"

She grabbed him behind the head and pulled him in for a deep kiss. They got lost as they kissed passionately for a few minutes. Theo pulled back and gulped. She laughed at the bashful look on his face.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"I... I don't know."

She smiled at him and shrugged. "Stop worrying about it and come here." She hugged him, and she could feel his body relax in her arms. They swayed slowly side to side. Theo felt his heart rate slow. He felt like he could fall asleep in her arms. He quickly went from awkwardly tense to securely relaxed. The moment was ruined as her cab pulled up and honked. "I gotta go," she spoke with a huge smile. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Theo smiled. "Okay."

She kissed him on the cheek as a goodbye before she walked out of the door and opened her umbrella. He closed the door and put his back to it. He slid down to the ground and put his hands on his face. He was completely flustered again. He couldn't believe that just happened, he couldn't believe he just did that! He took a few sharp breaths. He went to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. He was freaking out a little bit. He kissed her, and she kissed him back. The moment seemed so small but felt so big to him. She made him so nervous but in a good way. When she came around, he was mostly calm, but when she was gone, he couldn't stop overthinking and worrying about ruining it or scaring her away.

But as her cab pulled off, she couldn't stop smiling as she watched out the window. She was so happy that he finally kissed her. It ensured her that he really did like her. He like liked her. Her heart was fluttering, and her legs felt weak. At this point, she felt that she was head over heels for him, and she was almost sure he felt the same way. She kicked her legs as she kept thinking about the kiss; how soft he was, how gentle he was... It kept playing over and over in her head. Then she remembered something. She pulled out her cell phone and sent a text to her friend Lia:

It happened. We kissed.

[larsbarsart]

Hehe Hat game go brrrrr

Also self insert :3

Lars!! Or also Scarf Teen/Adult!

Their scarf is their equivalent to HK's Hat!

Bio older sibling to Hat Kid and just. Adopted Bow Kid and Timmy as siblings along the way to in-game events

Edit: Tumblr, how did you fuck this up? Why did you move my images??? Anyways I fixed it, all is as it should be.

More Info-Dumping below cut :]

So! I don't really know how Lars and Hat Kid (Harriet, Harry, or just Hat or Hattie in this AU) ended up travelling space but something happened because here they are

During their explorations of planets, they found Bow, a young orphan living on the streets of her hometown, and Timmy, a boy with a not so great home life (understatement).

Their spaceship is basically the same, with another couple of rooms.

Hattie's room, now shared with Bow, is the same but with more furniture and decoration for the latter kid. Hat still has her lil' diary hideout because sometimes the girl just needs some space to be on her own. Lars is the only person on the ship allowed in with permission

Timmy's room is in the basement, as an area renovated and repurposed to be a room. Think the room with the Alpine Skyline Warp Telescope. Harry did argue at first, but was eventually persuaded in the end. I'm not gonna explain, that'll have me writing an entire scene

Lars's room is the attic, where the Finale Warp Telescope is. They repurposed the attic in the first year or so of living on the ship so that they could have their own room.

Anyways, let's go onto the game events!

It all starts relatively the same, the kids wake up, Lars sleeping through the first alarm. Timmy and Hat, knowing how to handle the ship on their own, get started for travelling through the day when, Uh Oh! Mafia!

A couple of five minute alarms later.

Due to damages on the ship, the first couple of Time Pieces on the ship don't warp the kids back to the ship, but once Lars fixes it (and the hole in the window) it works again. After some talking, they start a plan:

Timmy, being a bit more tech oriented and avoidant of most conflicts, will stay on the ship to locate the Time Pieces while the other three track down and retrieve them, Tim relaying to them through earpieces and walkie talkie things. Mustache Girl still goes on the ship to plan Mafia Takedown with the kids, but Lars, back on Earth, remains unaware of their adventure until last second. ("Great. A kid working against us to gather the Time Pieces. Just what we needed.")

After that fiasco, the girls aren't allowed outside of Lars's sight when on field.

Which, of course is quickly disobeyed when Lars loses them at Dead Bird Studio, finding them again while DJ Grooves and the Conductor are roping Bow and Harry respectively into their movies

After a bit of persuading (the girls to Lars) and threatening (Lars to the directors) the girls are allowed to help the birds while their mostly legal guardian checks out Subcon Forest.

If you've played/watched the game, you can guess how that turns out

Anyways, a couple more things I wanna point out is, in my mind, the kids go on the cruise while Lars looks around Nyakuza Metro ("I feel safer leaving yall on a boat than wandering around a bunch of speeding vehicles"). That leaves them all to got around the Skylines together. Family Fun!

Anyways, that's about all I've got on that. Idk if I'll make more posts about this, but I just wanted to get all of my thoughts out in text

[mechimplants]

cw: being ordered to die, asphyxiation in space, mind-melding

When a shock trooper or deckhand dies, they're respectfully stripped of augments and shipped home, cold-storage, for a closed-casket funeral. Their family weeps, and somebody in charge speaks about how these times call for bravery and sacrifice.

No such grace is given to pilots. A high-strung thing who's seen too much action gets the call, and you just stop seeing them at mess hall. If you're lucky, they get the news delivered in the bunks, so you can hug them tight and say goodbye.

Everybody knows the name: Autophage Process. We don't talk about it. But she knew it was only a matter of time, after that disastrous last deployment. Nothing to be done now.

Her comm chimed at 1100 hours. "Report to August Bell, effective immediate. Initiate Autophage Process." Took them long enough. There was nothing to be done, no place to hide on a light carrier like this. She took the stairs, avoiding the bunks. Better not to talk to anybody.

There was the Bell in its hanger, as beautiful as the day she'd first been given it to pilot. A Gratia-class air-mobility frame: four 130mm railcannons and shoulder-mounted batteries of smart-missiles. Trailing streamers of smartcloth for preternatural grace in atmosphere, dual thruster banks for unmatched power in space.

Bell extended a hand and opened its cockpit. It won't be so bad, she thought. Midshipmen tell lots of stories about pilots--why should this one be any more truthful? She slid into the harness, clipped her boots onto the footpetals, and slammed the hatch shut.

Darkness.

"August Bell, this is Pilot Cantrell. Initiate connection!"

And then the blinding light of sensors, of being, blazed across her nerves. Her legs twitched against their docking clamps, her smartcloth wings ached to soar. Fuck.

In her mind, the mech's voice. Pilot Cantrell. We will begin the Autophage Process soon. Perhaps you would like to run one more training exercise first, to calm your nerves?

She signaled assent, though she knew the frame would be reading her confusion and desperation as well. There's no point putting on a brave face to a mech.

I'm gonna miss you, Bell. A stupid thing to say. A billion times too small to say what she meant.

A training program loaded on her HUD, a simple maneuverability exercise. Ten gates, get through them all as fast as possible. The docking clamps released, the launch sequence began, and then the Bell threw itself out of the hangar and into null-G.

She forgot the dread in an instant, as she focused everything on the practiced movements. Through gate one, then kick off the carrier's hull to redirect to gate two.

It wasn't until gate 3 that she realized anything was wrong. Distantly, her base implants chimed. Oxygen. Oxygen. Oxygen. Confused, she mismanaged the thruster banks and nearly overshot the gate.

She tried to pick out her original senses amidst the sea of Bell's analytics. There were... stars? Shit. The cockpit hatch was open. She was--yes, the senses from her body were returning now. The air was being pulled from her lungs. Her tongue was swollen and tasted of blood. Her eyes--

Pilot Cantrell. Focus on the mission.

She wanted to scream, but no air came. She struggled with her harness, but her fingers were swollen and clumsy. Fuck.

It is critical that you focus on the mission. The mech said it with such certainty. She wanted to believe it.

Hell, she reasoned. It's not like i could do anything at this point.

30 seconds of hard vacuum and you were done for--a fact every recruit knew. Frostbitten hands gripped the joysticks and she dove back in, searching for the August Bell's sensorium.

They were cruising towards the fourth gate, picking up speed. She reoriented, curving a smooth arc towards the fifth. Focus on the mission. She trusted Bell.

Distantly, she felt her hands twitching, her neck lolling in the seat in response to the g-forces. Her legs were reduced to a prickling pins-and-needles sensation. Gate six. Gate seven.

There was no sensation from her body anymore. Idly, she wondered how long her brain would stay linked before it, too, was too frozen and oxygen-starved to function. Could she at least get the satisfaction of completing the exercise?

Without knowing why, she pulled up short of the next gate.

Her mech spoke. The mission is complete. There is just one thing left to do.

She understood. She reached gently into her cockpit, and pulled out her pilot--an ugly, swollen thing, blood quickly turning an ugly color under the skin. A body that was not built for vacuum like she was.

But it had served her well, in an ungainly way, hadn't it. She had fought for that body, and it had taken her through school dances, through basic training, through a few disastrous and short-lived relationships. It hardly seemed right to abandon it without ceremony.

The others--she was starting to feel them now--assented, and she ripped a small piece of her smartcloth to enfold the body. Pilots don't get funerals, she knew. But she could offer that body some grace, at least. They watched it drift away in silence.

.....

The new pilot was tense. E clutched the joysticks tightly, and they could all feel that e was shaking. E tried eir best to keep a steady voice on the radio. "August Bell, ready for atmospheric entry!" Then, the sudden roar of noise and light as they slammed into the atmosphere, plasma lighting up their smartcloth.

Somebody needed to calm em down. She spoke.

Pilot Das, there is no need to be worried. We're going to be incredible.

The lanky novice let out a shaky breath, but relaxed eir grip. "This is going to take some getting used to."

E doesn't know the half of it, she thought.

[chiffaust]

𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗠𝘆 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗩𝗶𝗲𝘄. h. keito

⸻ WITH WINTER NOW BEHIND YOU, it isn't as cold as before outside, and with your new found interest in photography, you've decided to go out to take pictures outside per Keito's suggestion, but all of the sudden he wants to tag along too.

♯. ✶ ─ fluff, ooc, rushed in the end in a way, spring time love...

(n.) — i wrote this while being delusional so like be warned!!! yippe!!! and this might be shitty bc i wrote this with like my fucking heart not my head i dont wanns use my brain rn + i honestly dk if tjis fanfic mkes sense or not

The coldness of long winter days have finally died down as the sun rises again, melting away the coldness with it's warmth — and today signals the awaited spring has come again.

Since the outside world isn't going to be so cold anymore, you've decided to take your interest in photography outside per to Keito's suggestion; and today's the day!

It feels quite nice to finally be able to wear your normal clothes without needing layers of clothes anymore, and how happy you feel. You just need to remember to bring the essentials now... And your camera too.

Once you're ready, you finally walked to the door but your body somehow stopped you from twisting the doorknob like you wanted to, as if your body was telling you you're missing something important.

"You're going already?" A voice soon chimed in, although lazily in a way.

You sighed happily, shaking your head dismissively with slight happiness. Right. How could've you forgotten?

You turned your back to the door and smiled happily at him as you walked back into your apartment and gave him a quick peck on the cheeks.

"I'm just gonna go around and take some pictures of the cherry blossoms. I'll be quick!" You said, resting your hand happily on his shoulder before you nuzzled your head closer to his in a burst of affection.

"I know I was the one who suggested you to do so, but I was hoping you'll go out later in the day..." He mumbled, reciprocating your affection by rubbing his head to yours back lazily in an affectionate manner as he made his morning coffee.

"It's 9 am! It's not that early."

"But it's not everyday that I'd randomly get a day off like this either." He said, still tirelessly preparing to make his morning coffee, but with the way he phrases it, it sounds more like he wants to spend some time with you inside rather than outside.

"Then why didn't you sleep in until later in the afternoon?"

"... Force of habits, I supposed." He mumbled, a yawn managing to leave his mouth before he takes a sip of his newly brewed coffee.

You hummed, nodding at his statement as you gently intertwined your fingers with his as you patiently waited for him to finish the cup of coffee. Maybe he'll get his energy back and you can finally leave for a while.

Silence comes in thick between you two once again as you stood still, hands intertwined as you basked in each other's precense this early in the morning in a comfortable silence.

Not long after that, Keito stole a quick glance at you for a moment before smiling slightly and his hold around your hand tightens.

"Let me go out with you then." He said, putting the mug down onto the kitchen table now looking a bit kore energized than how he was a few moments ago.

You can never say no to this man.

* * *

Your hands subtle intertwined with one another as you cruised through the park while sparking conversations one after the another with him about which could be a perfect view to take pictures of.

He's an artist. He has... Drawn quite a lot of sceneries in his past in his spare time, so he suppose he knows a thing or two about them, alas you two weren't so lucky.

The park was already crowded with people by 9:34 am in the morning. People are really excited for spring somehow.

"No luck..." You mumbled with a loud sigh, clinging onto his arm tightly, fearing that you might get lost in the crowd in one way or another if you don't and being around by this many people only makes you even more anxious.

"I suppose it's expected since it's the beginning of spring and this place is best known if you want to see the cherry blossoms grow..." He sighs along, mindlessly walking through the trails while countless faces pass along you two. "Let's just try to find somewhere less crowded, okay?"

You hummed nonchalantly, now finally letting go of his arm and trailing behind him as you steal a glance or two around your scenery.

Despite how anxious you feel with the crowd, the cherry blossoms here are really blossoming quickly, making the scenery even more beautiful than usual — no wonder why this place is so crowded in the first place.

And the longer you were caught up in your own thoughts, the less people were to be seen walking pass along without you even noticing.

Suddenly, he had stopped on his tracks, shaking you off your thoughts instantly as you wondered why'd he stop in the first place before you looked in front of you — to the man you had fallen in love with, your eyes widening slightly as you see the soft smile forming up his lips as he looks up at the blossoming cherry blossoms with admiration of its beauty.

You two stayed there in silence for a while, but by god were you in love that man in front of you. His soft smile only reminds you on why you did.

He's... The perfect view. He's really perfect.

The reason why you're outside in the first place is because of him — or this moment, to be more exact.

You brought out your camera, quickly adjusting the lens until the perfect time finally hits.

The wind blew over gently, tussling with the cherry blossoms trees causing petals to fall down and be blown further closer to him. His hair tousled slightly by the wind, surprising him for a moment before he puts a hand over his hair, preventing his hair from moving too much as his gaze never left those trees even for a bit.

And finally, you clicked, the sound adverted his gaze to you and his eyes widen in shock when he sees the camera directed towards him without any prior notice either.

"Hold up, and who said you could take a picture of me without my consent?!" He asks, huffing angrily as his cheeks flushed red slightly — extremely flustered that he was caught in a moment like this.

"Keito..."

You trailed off, bringing your camera down as you looked at him with the biggest smile on your face.

"You're right. This place is pretty, but I think you're the prettiest view I've seen so far." You said in a sweet tone. Once again, you're truly in love with this man and the love in your eyes wasn't left unnoticed by him or the few passerbys around.

He covers his lower face with his hand, adverting his gaze away from you with a pout on his face it only grows redder at how intensely you were looking at him with that eyes of yours.

... But in a way, it makes him happy to even if he doesn't outright mean it.

"Hmph, flattery won't give you my forgiveness." He stated once more, before he finally looks back into your eyes.

His expression was soft, gentle and genuine with a glint of adoration in his eyes and his smile only further proves the point.

"I guess it really doesn't!" You laughed out happily, skipping towards him and intertwined your fingers around his once more.

"... But, I'm still glad. Hehe... I love you." You giggled, blushing again as you happily rubbed the side of your head towards his.

"So do I." He hummed, reciprocating your affection once more as his grip around your hand tightens firmly, and once again you two walked through the park mindlessly without a care in the world — nothing else matters now, it shall only be about you two for the rest of the day.

[l-lend]

Warning(s): Swearing

So a bit more on the Motor!Batch AU

Tagging: @kelpiesummer and @ghostlythunderbird

The roar of an engine pulling into the garage did not appear to phase the shop's mechanic as she tightened the final nut on her rebuild. The blaring music from the shop's speakers abruptly died. A customer? The mechanic's chest clenched tight. Please, no. Please, no.

“Hey Bird!” The shop's designer cried, slightly muffled by a painting mask.

The mechanic sighed as the vice in her chest released thankful for their stunt rider's appearance.

The purr of T-Bird's engine cut off, and the stunt cyclist stomped into the shop proper.

Kelpie was still speckled in all manner of paints and primers. A colorful work hazard and mostly just a danger to the furniture. She pulled her mask down to expose her mouth.

“What's up, hun? You look like you just biffed a stunt.”

The mechanic smiled as she continued her work. Her sister was always so warm and open like a sunflower. While Nessie kept to the depths of her bay, her conversations being one sided translating hiccups and knocks into the bikes telling her their problems.

T-Bird's guttural scoff broke Nessie from her thoughts.

“Sy has me working with another rider.”

“Bird, that's great!”

“He's a stuck up speedster.”

“Well, maybe he was having a bad day?”

“Fuck that. He kill-switched me at the light.”

Nessie inhaled through her teeth. Ways to piss off Bird: number 18.

“Okay, so it can't be all bad,”

“Kel,” T-Bird began clapping her hands together, “I. Am. Not. Working. With. That. Birch. Tree. Looking. Mother. Fucker.” Her clasped hands moving downward to make her point.

The clicking of heels on the cement floor interrupted the conversation.

“He still has notoriety, Bird.” Siren replied, placing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “and fortunately, you storming out didn't hinder this opportunity. Details are in your email with the dates for shoots.”

The manager turned her attention to the mechanic, “Nessie, I have the notes on the other talent's bike. Think you can tune up Bird's enough to keep up?”

Nessie raised a brow, “Can Kelpie get a bike stripped, primed, and painted in a night?”

Siren chuckled, “Fair enough. I got the specs here.”

Nessie held out a grimy hand with Siren keeping as much paper distance between Nessie's grease stained fingers as possible on the hand off.

The mechanic got up from her position on a stool as she scanned the document.

“Seems easy enough, let me get done with the back up and I can have her ready in the morning.”

Time seemed to vanish as Nessie worked away. There were a few interruptions for trivial things like eating and drinking at Kelpie's request. The lighting of the garage kept Nessie from discerning when exactly the sun went down.

“Ness.”

She looked up from her work. Her hands still wrist deep in wiring.

“Kelpie's giving me a lift home. You coming?”

“Nah, I'm gonna pull an all-nighter and see if I can get your backup firing again. You gave her a good slide, Bird.”

T-Bird offered, “Suit yourself, but get some sleep.”

Nessie wrenched free a hand to offer a two finger salute, and the two women left leaving Nessie to her solitude. The only noise in the garage being the clink of her tools being moved and the ratcheting of bolts being tightened into place. By the time the back up bike was fully back together, the clock read two o'clock.

“Losing your touch, Ness.” She muttered to herself, lowering the bike from the lift.

After donning her own helmet and locking up the garage, she mounted the newly repaired bike and with a kick its engine roared to life. She paused to listen. No knocks. The roads were empty before her. Time for a test drive.

While the mechanic left the flashy stunts to T-Bird, Nessie began to push the bike's speedometer higher as she cruised along the street seeing if any knocks would reveal themselves, however she was unaware of the looming presence behind her until the lights and sirens came on.

“Fuck, really?” Nessie breathed, slowing the bike and pulling off on the shoulder.

The siren coming from the labelled Tahoe ceased abruptly, but the lights continued its persistent flashing. Nessie drummed her fingers on the handle bar as she waited for the officer to come over give her the speeding lecture.

The officer finally got out of his patrol car, and Nessie was thankful she kept her helmet on or else her eyes would have popped out of her head. The officer was massive, and only his sheer size sinking into the mechanic as he made his approach. She barely reached his chest as he now stood beside her.

“Morning,” The bass of his voice rumbled in his chest, “you missed the stop sign back there.”

He watched as the rider's helmet slouched forward.

“You mind taking your helmet off for me?”

Nessie's glove fingers slowly crept under the lip of her helmet and unfastened it before revealing her face to the officer.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Was just testing out the bike to make sure it isn't knocking anymore.”

The officer did not speak for a moment.

“Mind if I get your license and registration?”

“Yes of course, license is in my pocket.”

Nessie retrieved her license and handed it over before making it a point to show him that she was ferreting around in the tank bag. Her face blanched.

“Shit,” She breathed, keeping her attention to the officer, “I...my friend cleaned out the bag. I can give you her name. I-I'm her mechanic at the Mythic Beauties garage just down the road.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Give me her name, and I'll run this real quick. Mind getting off the bike and standing in front of my car?”

Nessie nodded, dismounting the bike and perching her helmet on the tank. She followed him to his patrol car still idling behind them. He left her there in the glow of the headlights while he retreated to his driver's side to run her license.

The mechanic took a few breaths while mentally kicking herself. A ticket was definitely going to eat into her happy hour money. She was only pulled from her thoughts when a low hum was seeping through the usual purr of the Tahoe's engine. She closed her eyes trying to sift out the other noise.

“Miss?”

She snapped her eyes open and locked eyes with the officer. He had tilted his head slightly at seeing her state.

“Sorry, bit of a habit of mine. Your engine sounds a bit off. Maybe something sticking?”

He hummed, “I'll have to get it looked at tomorrow maybe.”

He offered her back her license, “The name you gave me was right, but you should really get your friend to leave the registration with the bike.”

“Right,”

“Just pay closer attention to the stop signs, and take the bike straight back to the garage, alright?”

“Of course.”

A silence hung between them.

“I..hate to ask but am I getting ticketed?”

He chuckled, “I was heading back home when I stopped you, and your record is pretty clean, so a warning would save us both some time.”

Nessie lit up with some color returning to her face, “I-it would, yeah. Thank you officer...”

He smiled and Nessie felt an odd pang in her gut.

“I'm off the clock, so Wrecker's fine.”

“You..kind of already have my name, but I go by Nessie.”

His brow furrowed, “like the monster?”

“It's...a nickname I got from friends.”

He nodded, “Well, have a great rest of your night and drive safe, okay?”

“Of course, um...”

He halted his leave. She slowly offered him a paper card.

“If your motor pool is too bogged down, I...can take a look at your Tahoe. I specialize in motorcycles, but I wasn't kidding about being a mechanic. I guess consider it doing my civic duty?”

He offered her another smile taking the card from her. Their fingers brushed bringing more color to Nessie's cheeks.

“Appreciate it. Now, take the bike straight back and don't take it out until you have the registration, alright?”

She nodded and she watched him step back to his vehicle before she turned walking back to the bike.

He sat in the driver's seat as he watched her don her helmet and mount the bike. As the heater eased the dulling chill from his fingers, he glanced down at the card. Its reflective font shimmering in the near darkness. The roar of an engine brought his gaze back to the mechanic as she pulled off onto the road once more. He was definitely going to take her up on her offer. At least to make sure she kept the bike above board, and see about her story being legit. It would be simple to call the number tomorrow.

[slowlyhardgoatee]

‘Thompson, get in here.

Shut the door. Never been in the headmaster’s office before, have you, son? Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong. I just wanted to say happy 18th birthday for yesterday. You’re looking a little peaky today - I guess you went out last night. Am I right? Thought so. I know what a boy’s first hangover looks like.

Where did you go last night, then? A strip club, did you say? Don’t lie to me, boy. I know exactly where you were. You were blindfolded, on your knees in a leather bar toilet, sucking every cock in the place through a glory hole. I know, boy, because mine was one of them. Mine was the one at the end of the night that you gagged on because it was so big, and when I took it out of your mouth you begged to be my bitch. Remember, boy? You said, ‘Please let me be your faggot bitch slave, Sir’, and when I asked if you really meant it, because you hadn’t seen my face, you said ‘Yes Sir. I need to be a no-limits bitch boy for your continuous use. As long as you want. Please, Sir.’ Remember, boy? Yeah. Thought you might.

Well, time to see if you really meant it. School’s letting out for the summer in two months, and I know you’ve worked really hard to secure your university place for September, but after last night, as of this morning I’m putting you on a failing grade. If you want to get into any university, you’ll be my personal slave for the next two months of school and all through the summer. So, five months total. No limits. I can fuck you, piss on and in you, breed you, rent your arse and mouth out to anyone I want, fist and abuse your holes and have you begging for more. If you fall short at any point, you can kiss university goodbye and that two months and the summer will instantly become your full-time job for as long as I want.

Think very carefully, cunt. Can I call you cunt? No? Hmm. That’s not what you were saying last night. Last night you begged me to verbally abuse you while I was raping your mouth, so I think that’s what I’m gonna keep doing whether you like it or not. Cunt.

Think very carefully. Do you want to jeopardise your entire future by saying no to me, or do you want to spend the next five months as a no-limits fuck slave and maybe earn your freedom at the end of it?

That’s what I like to see, boy. Dropping to your knees without a word. Now, keep your head bowed. Do you know your place, slave? Eh? You certainly did last night. Do you? Yeah. ‘Yes Sir’. Exactly what I want to hear out of your mouth every time I address you from now on. Now, I’m not gonna believe it until I hear you say it again - and I’m filming this, by the way - so get ready to say it loud and clear. By being in this room with me, on your knees like that, given everything we’ve just discussed, you are agreeing - no, begging - to be my full time faggot rape slave for the next five months, and you agree that if you slip up in any way, you flunk out of school as a complete failure and I automatically assume full ownership of your faggot cunt and mouth for as long as I want. Is that right, cunt?

Yeah. ‘Yes Sir’. Good boy. Why don’t you crawl over here and we’ll celebrate your slavery with you giving me a long, slow, sloppy blowjob. It’s 10am. I don’t want your cunt boy mouth anywhere other than wrapped around my fat fucking meat pipe for the next four hours. And you’ll eagerly swallow whatever I wanna pump down your faggot throat. Then when the last bell of the day rings, you’re coming home with me for the first of many all-night, hard and heavy rape sessions, boy. I really hope you’re a virgin back there, boy, because I’m looking forward to the look on your face when I fuck my load up your cunt for the first time. Oh, and one last thing. Call me Sir at school, obviously, but when I’m using and abusing you anywhere else - my house, a leather bar darkroom, a public cruising area where I’m renting you out - you’ll call me Daddy. That clear, cunt? Good boy. Now get over here and deep throat your Daddy’s cock. Nice and slow. Fuck yeah, son. All the way down. Such a fucking good cock sucker. You’ll be getting lots of practice, boy, believe me. And when we get back to my place this afternoon, I’m gonna tie your wrists to your ankles and spend all night splitting that cunt in two. You thought you were tired after last night? You ain’t seen nothing yet. Keep sucking me, you slut. I know first hand you’ve got a deep throat, and I’m gonna be taking full advantage of it. That’s a good cunt.’

[hawkeyebj]

no okay i will let myself talk about top gun for a second. as a treat. keep going if u don't want my deranged thoughts. this actually turned into 10% top gun and 90% a strange horrifying glimpse into my psyche.

this has been eating me alive since [checks letterboxd account] april 29th. you know when you watch something and even partway through it you're like. 'oh. oh no am i like. gonna latch on to this?' and you're right. the silly little movie or tv show or what have you is :) not just a silly little movie anymore. it takes a hold of your braaaaiiiiinnnnnn. and its fun to get obsessed w/ something again, but also. sometimes it is something you are embarrassed about so you're like. are u serious. this? anyway this is me w/ top gun 1986. it is me with maverick in particular. also with icemav. however seeking out fan content to fuel this has been difficult sometimes bc every time i come across something that is like "uwu tom cruise <333" my first reaction is to recoil bc actually tom cruise, if anything, scares me lmao. he is not baby to me in any way. but that motherfucking gay ass stupid pilot he plays? baby. baby boy. my fucking poor little meow meow of the month. and i HATE myself for it. but i cannot shake it. i have kept this to myself for a month, and i actively tried to like not lean into it but i have failed miserably. got me bookmarking icemav fics on ao3. giggling and kicking my feet watching silly little edits. writing fic ideas that will likely never see the light of day. pilot boys i looooooove you and i hate it. and i mean obviously. top gun is a v popular movie. not weird to like it. what is weird is the things going on in my head about it. i wish i was exaggerating about the stupid amount of grief this has caused me. i will be alone in my own room and start berating myself out of embarrassment and like. it's not that serious babe. but also i would die before admitting this publicly. and it's not even that it's particularly niche or that i'm alone bc i can see that there actually is an active fandom. but i am just so like. judgemental but only to myself about anything and everything and it includes the things i like. i can do nothing without beating myself up about it first and it is exhausting.

anyway can you believe i knew next to nothing about top gun other than that it was some movie that a lot of people have seen/liked up until this year? blissfully unaware. it's funny (and agonizing) to me when i get an interest like this that i'm so embarrassed about. like it doesn't happen super often but it's like. yes i'm thinking about this all the time. no i will never talk about it. last time this happened to me i had one (1) freak who was on the same wavelength as me and we co-wrote over 500k worth of fic that we shared with no one and wrote purely for our own amusement. it was the best time of my life. i need another freak like that and i will never find one. not to turn this shameful rambling into something sappy but we lost touch after that and i miss the fuck out of her. [redacted] if you are somewhere out there you are so important to me and i'll never experience that again i am sure. no one else is ever going to have the same niche interest with the same niche [redacted] kink and write for it fervently together with me for over a year again. that will not happen so thank you for being special. i will always be chasing that level of narrative connection.

if you miraculously read this and thought i was even somewhat normal beforehand. sorry. it gets worse

[dzpenumbra]

10/29/22

I had a bunch of different thoughts I wanted to share here throughout the day, but I'm really overtired and spacey right now. And much higher than normal. So I guess I'm just gonna choose the topic tonight.

The most memorable moment of the day for me right now was skating. Yep, I went two days in a row. Today, I went for... probably a good hour, hour and a half. I didn't get there until like 5:30 and it was already getting dark. There was a kid that was just getting ready to leave when I got there. At least I assume, he tried one trick, got his shit and left. Maybe he was just feeling anxious, idk. I just went cruising for a bit. It's such a great feeling just to have wheels under my feet. It's so nostalgic, so free.

I miss the vibration of textured concrete, like sidewalk cement, the cracks and everything. I miss the sound. The cla-clack cla-clack as you cruise down the sidewalk. The whizz of cheap dirty bearings. The hum of the wheels grinding against concrete. Even riding on rough asphalt, while annoying and tiring, is really nostalgic. The roads here were not meant for skating, and it sets your thighs on fire, and they're super loud. But that is a unique feeling, that can bring you back decades.

Skatepark cement isn't really the same. It feels like skating in a parking garage, kinda. Which is cool, and very like... optimized. But like... I kinda just wanna cruise in a parking garage sometimes, you know? And I miss riding on sidewalks and finding cool street spots. I can't even remember the last time I did a street session that wasn't at my old college. I doubt I'd ever give it a try by myself, honestly. It's kinda begging to get yelled at, I guess. And kinda depressing, honestly. But Rodney Mullen does it, so I guess I can't really shit on it too much. I just don't know if it would be good for me. On the other hand... I do it snowskating all the time. So... that's an interesting thought I'll have to come back to. This obsession with sharing these experiences, and if I don't get to experience it with someone else... why bother? Put it on the backburners and get back to it when we have a candidate. Look for other ways to socialize. Maybe it's because my Social meter on my Sim is like... so dark red that it's almost black. And it's gonna take some time to recover that. And patience from others. And patience from me. And practice. Lots of practice.

So maybe I need to think of re-socializing as like... re-learning how to play a song. Taking it bit by bit, not expecting the whole thing to come to me at once, but open to the possibility. Start with small social things, build back into deeper ones. I don't know. I just wasn't expecting to like... have to do all my practice in front of people... and the nature of the social skill is being on display, being in social interactions. So it's not like practicing guitar in my room alone, then sharing it at an open mic night, or on stream. It's like practicing guitar on stream every time you practice. And maybe that's why I've been drawn towards doing that today, to get back into it, to normalize this kind of anxiety. It's a great analogy for what I'm going through with social shit, and honestly... even if I don't stream for money. Even if I have to hang out with young people. I can teach some music lessons on transcription and shit. Which I was drawn to today. And that can be me socializing in front of an audience, and literally learning a new song in front of an audience. Talk about exposure therapy, if I can do that, why the fuck couldn't I go make new friends?!

Maybe I'm afraid of making new friends. New people to like... get pissed off at me when they realize how much time I want to spend with them. How I want to share as much of my life as possible with people who I admire, who inspire me, who share passions with me, who make me laugh. Who I echo, and who echo me - who I resonate with, who I harmonize with. Symphonia Equalitas - Symphony is Equality. That's my tattoo, engraved in my Libra symbol. I believe that shit with all my heart. When two souls are creating a complete symphony together, that is true equality. When they're both mutually fusing their thoughts into a greater whole, something bigger than the both of them. And their contributions mesh so seamlessly that they appear like... like the formation/growth of a crystal, where the dissonance and contrast of their thoughts become shimmering inconsistencies, refracting light and creating rainbow effects. The entirety being compelled towards the most stable state of arrangement, intertwinement of contributions, where they become so uniform they become transparent. They become imperceptible. So... not sure if you could pick up from this analogy... but 1) I worked with polishing two pieces of quartz today to a completely reflective finish, and 2) I'm pretty passionate about human connection and relationships. They're pretty important to me, and I consider them extremely powerful. Symphony. That's where I was coming from, bringing the quartz carbon arrangement analogy in here to show the goal of human interaction. To create an experience that is greater than the sum of it's parts, right? A memory.

All of these insanely intense moments, they're things people really take for granted. They don't appreciate them. I can say this with absolute certainty having been in isolation for a very long time. The absolute wonder that any two beings can create - memorable moments, inside jokes, love, bonding in general. Even the small moments where you just know for a fact that the person you're talking to is on the same page as you? That shit... man... it's like solid gold. And people go through their whole lives just... never not having that. And that's just crazy to me. That they experience this so normally that they would never even conceive of the possibility it might not be there someday. Like... their brain doesn't even have the inkling to ever entertain the thought. It's pretty staggering to me, very alien. They go through life just throwing themselves into more and more intense moments, escalating, pushing the edges. Completely desensitized to the amazing power of just looking into the pupils of another person's eyes and just being in that moment with them. I can not even put into words how alien that is to me. Looking anything in the eyes. Except my cat, I guess. It can be like what looking in a mirror is for some people, it can just kinda freak them out a bit sometimes.

So... I guess I do have a pretty serious anxiety/trauma response around meeting new people. Like... I think that's pretty obvious. And I guess I've been a bit too stubborn to admit it? Like... I can get on stage and improvise guitar but I can't just go out and be an extrovert? I can post my artwork publicly, even sketches I spent like an hour on that I don't like. I can write a stream of consciousness journal and publish it publicly on Tumblr... But introducing myself at the skatepark? Calling the car place to get my service inspection that's like a month overdue scheduled? Why the fuck are those hard for me? I just don't get it! Like I know I feel really strongly against it, it's very clear, I will avoid it if I can (and sometimes even if I can't)... but I can't even really articulate why. Maybe it has something to do with being understood? Saying the right thing? Not saying enough? Not asking enough questions? I don't know. Maybe I'm just very specifically insecure about that? Because I know the whole "I don't want to set up appointments on the phone when I'm tired, high, super stressed, etc. I want to be at my best to make a good impression". I know that whole thing. But like... yeah, I guess this is just an extension of that. I don't know if that's like an actual specific traumatic event? Or just a series of things, like a Pavlovian response to being on the phone after this many fights on the phone? That might actually be it. Crap. And it's affecting my executive functioning pretty bad, because most shit is done on phones nowadays. At least in my life.

Welp, that was a fun realization. Good timing, I've been chatting with the new social worker guy and trying to get him up to speed. Holy shit, okay this was something I wanted to share earlier, lets go down this road, shall we?

So he was asking me a lot of questions about physical sensations, what my panic, anxiety, ptsd attack things feel like when they hit. I really drew a blank. I'm actually drawing a lot of blanks when I write to him. It's frustrating me. Fuck it, the whole concept here is really daunting. Like... I type here every night, I know how much it takes to really flesh out the complexity of an issue I'm dealing with. And right now it's like... a kaleidoscope of different problems, each with writhing tendrils wrapping around multiple topics, concepts, emotions. I have a lot of traumas, repeated ones. And it can be hard to really know where to start with a new person, to really clue them in on how to help me.

It's just like... like looking around my house. There's stuff in piles on the floor in every room. I have dishes piling up constantly. I have laundry either clean in a basket or dirty on the floor. I don't vacuum nearly enough. I dust exactly never. My bathroom is rarely clean. I could be much better with the litterbox. Like... you can tell I need help. But, with that list, how long is it gonna take for me to fill in someone on what I need for help? The second I start to put a list together I just start sweating. I need help with all of it, man. I need help with business ideas, and helping me keep my ego strong enough to actually visualize myself doing art commissions for actual people. Like actually see in my head myself doing custom grip tape for someone, or a handdrawn hoodie design, or cool socks with mandala designs on the ankle, or actually selling a piece of jewelry or something. Helping me keep that dream alive, living, active, residing in my head, and guiding me like a lighthouse. I need help with pretty much exactly that with meeting people too. And dating, helping me date without it ending with me just being manipulated by some traumatized person who is using me to literally just dump their trauma on my lap and then peace out. Like literally. I need help identifying when I need to walk away from people who are draining the life out of me. That's a pretty big one. I think a lot of people can relate on that one.

So... again... I have a lot of shit to ask for help with. That's not even mentioning the sleep problems. The fact that it's 5 AM, and since I feel close to the end here, I'm actually close to going to sleep... and that's early for me. Like... the dark blue dawn light isn't even there yet. And I'm like 98% sure that I'm only staying up all night because I don't feel safe at night alone. Too quiet, too dark. Gotta put on noise machines, live streams talking in the background, music, podcasts, audiobooks, anything. Simulate activity, people around, awake people. It creates a sense of safety at a very primal level for me. But I guess sometimes even that isn't enough. And it's easier to just watch the stream and stay up all night. Or play the game and stay up all night. Or work on the music project and go "shit, the sun's coming up, I gotta go to sleep." I guess sometimes it's easier to do that than to lay in bed and try to fall asleep while I'm afraid.

I say this in complete darkness, laying in bed with my cat by my foot. Typing on a laptop. Air purifier machine humming on half power in the corner. And I'm not like... scared of the dark. I mean I have a nightlight on. This is weird, I must be in denial about it or something. Because I do all the "I'm afraid of the dark" activities, but I don't like... physically feel the fear. Jesus Christ, was that my original point that I wandered off into the mental woods and somehow circled back to?! The social worker dude was asking about physical sensations. Fuck it, I went on the whole "how do I tell him what I need", let's get to the interesting thought. So... now that there's a little lead-in context to my thinking here... I'm clearly demonstrating coping mechanisms for being afraid of the dark, right? Dim nightlight, white noise, sleep music. But I'm not feeling fear. It's not like... physically expressing itself the way it does like... when I see a creeper near something valuable in Minecraft. When I get to the skate park and see a few people there. When I get ready to make a phone call or go live streaming. When I go to the vet with a pet I'm pretty certain has a health problem. Those I feel. Very clearly. And I don't fight the feeling. Anymore.

But a lot of my trauma responses and stuff don't actually have clear physical manifestations. They are much more... like cognitive roadblocks, or conceptual obsessions, intrusive thoughts, catastrophizing. Like bursts of concepts and emotions just kinda bubbling in my head, like a boiling pot. Overwhelm? Like the volume in my head just gets cranked... yeah, it's not really volume, as in gain... it's like... a chorus of lots of busy thoughts. And I guess that can make me physically sensitive too, it very often does. And tense, tension in shoulders, back, jaw. But those are like... constant physical traits for me, they are always present and have been for like half my life, at least. So... it's not like... something I even think to point out. Of course I have wrist pain, I've had wrist pain since I was like 15, like 20 years, everyday. I don't think to mention that.

So I thought it was really interesting that he went with that as like the first question to ask me. As though that's the most common response. Because honestly, it probably is. My way of experiencing these problems is probably not the most common. It's actually probably pretty uncommon, I'd imagine. I think most people I've met have no idea why they hurt, but they definitely feel it. Physically. They smoke weed and they just start feeling like they're dying physically, and I can relate to those feelings too when I'm too high... but for me it's the thoughts that created those feelings that people just immediately detach from, I think. Like instantaneously the primal brain kicks in and says "hey bud, don't think about that, thinking about that makes you want to die, it makes you think this is happening!" <cue primal brain simulating your understanding of what a heart attack feels like> And I guess most people... for them... that's like the worst thing in the world. And they run to the ER, and get weed federally criminalized. But like... for me? It's much more movie-like. It's much more imaginative, cinematic and poetic. When I freak out, it can get like... biblical. Like I walked into a movie or something, which could be so much fun if I fucking viewed it that way. If I could have fun with it, like a haunted house or ghost hunting, or looking for UFOs. But it's usually like walking into a psychological horror movie - which ironically used to be one of my favorite kinds, I'm saying "it's too real now" in my head but I really want to start watching horror movies again. Anyway, back to the anxiety attacks. I guess most people experience them primarily physically, and maybe the physical is blocking the front brain, the cerebrum, the ego, from thinking about scary shit too much by making a distraction. It's a theory.

But for me... it's just fuel for my imagination. Dreams. Inspiration. That's been my fear for a while, and I'm excited but a bit weirded out to explore it, but let's just lightly dip our toes into this tonight before wrapping up. I'm afraid that the combination of my strong emotions (and my deep devotion to preserving and cultivating them) and my dreamlike imagination is the source of both my gift (my art, my music, my poetry, my inspiration) and my curse (doom, panic, trauma reenactments). I'm afraid it's both of them. And that in the end, my goal is backwards. It's not to stop these from happening. It's not to "fix" me. It will be to just... learn to be okay with the big, bad, scary realizations. Learn to capture them in their unique way, instead of running from them. I need to learn how to make art and music and poetry while in a panic state. And be honest with it. I have a feeling eventually that will be a goal. I'm not sure I'm there yet, I really feel I will need help with that. At least in getting started. But I think it will change everything for me.

So once I can confidently, reliably pick up a dream journal and document a nightmare that has me waking up crying or ready to scream... I will be in a place that transcends my suffering. That evolves my suffering into... the centerpiece jewel in what will become a blooming mandala, or an honest metal song or hip-hop song. I can only imagine what my life will be like after that, it seems... very peaceful. Full of constant creation and growth. When I flourish, there is creation, there is growth. When I suffer, there is creation, there is growth. It seems ideal.

It's good to have goals! But they're a bit vague... So I guess I'll just sum this up for my social worker like this - "hey dude, could you help me reach enlightenment? Or maybe point me towards someone who can? Shouldn't be too hard, right?" But that doesn't really address how to make friends, make money or find a girlfriend... so crap...

I'm sure we'll get on the same page in time. But yeah, last thought before wrapping up.

I came up with a new trick today, something I've never really tried seriously before. I was doing a lot of nosestall variations on the small curb-height stair today. I couldn't get nollie nosestall, or nollie at all really today. I'm leaning too far forward and not dragging my back foot enough. I need to clean those up, I'm gonna keep working on them. But I got regular and switch nosestall shove, fakie and nollie BS (I think, I'm still bad with directions for some reason) pivot nosestall pivot out. And a cool new one where I was doing a nosestall and really wanted to transition into a nosepick, but I haven't been able to figure out how to consistently and accurately get the wheel up and over the coping by just trying to pop. And it's a really low ledge so there's not a lot of room to drop your back trucks to get pop before you just hit the ground. So I decided "fuck it, I already have 100% of my weight on my front foot, let's just take the back foot off entirely and wrap it under the nose and toehook the tail up like a casper." It worked pretty damn well. I decided to go for more of a Front crook pinch than a nosegrind position, and tried to get a feeling for toehooking the board to exactly where the heelside wheel locks against the coping, for stability. Then when I started to get that transition down smoothly... ride up, fix foot position, nosestall, wrap back foot, pull up and forward, rotate shoulders and weight to pivot with the board, give a little hop to relieve weight and lighten my front foot on the pivot, feel for the heelside wheel lock, then settle my weight. My balance kept sitting in the backseat every time. I could drop out of it back to fakie, but it kinda just disoriented me and didn't feel as fun. What I did like was going out fakie and then immediately reverting the opposite way, the heelside way. It's a weird kinda rewind feeling, I don't know, it was fun so I stuck with it. No clue what it actually looks like... but it felt cool. And I stuck a few. I was skating until it was almost completely dark out. And there are no lights at the park. I mean... the rest of the park has lights. The walking path has lights. The sports fields have lights. The community haunted house has lights. The parking lots have lights. The tennis and basketball courts have lights. But not the skatepark. So... tough shit skaters? I would've gladly skated there until at least like 8 if they had lights. Really lame. Fucking asshole town. Like... what, you think I'm gonna be hanging out there with highschool kids smoking pot or something? You think I'd find anything entertaining about getting high and hanging out with teenagers? Or you think people are selling drugs? Or drinking? Like... what do you think is happening at the skatepark under lights? And having no lights... helps this?! Fucking non-logic, man. They even have signs up "No Smoking - $100 to $400 fines", including vaping! In a fucking outdoor park! Where they have barbeque pits set up! I swear... these people are just... it's fucking obnoxious. Honestly. It's like they just want to fuck with and control people at this point. It's like people aren't even trying to justify their restrictions anymore, like a shitty parent just saying "because I said so" or something. Ugh.

Welp... I don't want to end on that note... I was really happy about this new trick, and I wish I could've stayed later to get it down even smoother. I guess it'll have to wait for tomorrow, if I grow the balls to go on a weekend. But in two days, I went from being hesitant to go to the skatepark to dropping in and inventing a new trick (in my book). I need to celebrate that. So I want to end on that! :D

It pays off to go outside your comfort zone. And I saw a David Bowie clip this morning saying exactly that. All good art comes from outside the comfort zone. So try something a bit outside your comfort zone tomorrow, it could be your new favorite thing!

[lover-of-fictional-people]

rwrb quotes that make me go feral:

Alex throws his head back and laughs handsomely, loud and false. "Go fuck yourself"

"Hardly enough time", Henry says

(page 36)

"I had a magazine with his face on it at my desk, once, because I was in it and he happened to be on the cover."

"You stared at it for an hour"

(page 59)

He stares at the screen, at his own message, for a few seconds too long, suddenly afraid it was a stupid thing to say. He shakes his head, puts the phone down. Locks it. Changes his mind, picks it up again. Unlocks it. Sees the little typing bubble on Henry's side of the conversation. Puts the phone down. Looks away. Looks back. [...]

He would really appreciate it if Henry would stop proving him wrong.

(page 72)

"Okay", Alex says.

"Okay", Henry agrees.

"Okay", Alex says again.

(page 83)

"Christ, you are as thick as it gets", he says, and he grabs Alex's face in both hands and kisses him

(page 107)

In his head, he tries to cobble a list together in a panic, gets as far as, One, Henry's lips are soft, and short-circuits

(page 108)

and texts Alex at weird hours of the night: You're a mad, spiteful, unmitigated demon, and I'm going to kiss you until you forget how to talk

(page 158)

Alex's heart goes so fucking weird that he has to put his head in his hands for a full minute

(page 160)

He rolls onto his stomach, considers, and very deliberately says "Baby".

It's become a thing: baby. He knows it's become a thing. He's slipped up and accidentally said it a few times, and each time Henry positively melts and Alex pretends not to notice, but he's not above playing dirty here.

There's a slow hiss of an exhale across the line, like air escaping through a crack in the windows.

(page 166)

"I miss you", Alex says before he can stop himself.

He instantly regrets it, but Henry says, "I miss you too"

(page 173)

And through it all, Alex realizes with a start: He has friends now

(page 201)

I'll be damned but I miss you

(page 203)

"And you are good. Most things are awful most of the time, but you're good"

[...]

Henry kisses his mouth over and over again and says quietly, "You are good"

(page 230)

"Oh my God, I thought you were getting into international relations or something"

"I mean, technically-"

"If you finish that sentence, I'm gonna spend tonight in jail"

(page 233)

"Would it make any difference at all if I told you not to see him again?"

"No"

(page 234)

History, huh? Bet we could make some

(page 241)

Should I tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I've just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all?

(page 242)

Goddamn, I love him. It keeps coming back to him, and it's getting harder to look into Henry's soft smiles and not say it.

(page 261)

"So glad you flew here to insult me-"

"I fucking love you, okay?", Alex half yells, finally, irreversibly

(page 271)

He tells his too-fast brain: Don't miss it this time. He's too important

(page 275)

When Alex was a kid, before anyone knew his name, he dreamed of love like it was a fairy tale, as if it would come sweeping into his life on the back of a dragon one day. When he got older, he learned about love as a strange thing that could fall apart no matter how badly you wanted it, a choice you make anyway. He never imagined it'd turn out he was right both times

(page 280)

At cruising altitude, he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring next to the old house key. They clink together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side

(page 291)

I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire

(page 300)

"You and me and history, remember? I'm never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you. So, I promise you, one day we'll be able to just be"

(page 312)

on the map of you, my fingers can always find the green hills, wales. cool waters and a shore of white chalk. the ancient part of you carved out of stone in a prayerful circle, sacrosanct. your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing

(page 320)

He takes a breath. "But the thing is, jumping off cliffs is kinda my thing. That's the choice. I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose"

(page 344)

He called Henry the North Star once. That wasn't bright enough

(page 399)

He would have taken Henry's face in both hands and kissed him hard and deep and on purpose and said, "Take anything you want and know you deserve to have it"

(page 407)

Henry's smiling so wide and bright that Alex thinks his heart's going to break trying to hold the size of this entire moment, the completeness of it, a thousand years of history swelling inside his rib cage

(page 414)

[starryeyedmunson]

Ok what if Eddie planned this big Valentine’s Day surprise for his best friend because he couldn’t hide his feelings anymore buttt and the end of the night there was more than rose petals on the floor

valentine's day - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x female reader

summary: eddie needs to tell you he likes you, so he plans out a valentine's day surprise.

warnings: smut (not really), oral (f receiving), fingering, fluff i guess

author's note: cutie request i got! i hate valentine's day <3 enjoy

word count: 2.9k

“No.”

“Oh come on, Eddie she’ll love it! All she does is watch romcoms and fantasize about Tom Cruise, she’s gonna freak out,” Robin said, and Nancy nodded in agreement. Eddie looked to Steve, who was busy doing his job for once.

Eddie had been crushing on you for a while. You were one of Steve’s failed relationships, but you had ended up becoming good friends. Steve introduced you to Eddie, and he was doomed from that moment on. He didn’t tell anyone about it at first until he got Robin high and she blurted out that everyone already knew. Now, they wouldn’t stop pestering Eddie to tell you how he felt.

“I mean I personally wouldn’t do it,” Steve said, and Eddie gestured to him while looking at Robin and Nancy.

“Oh yeah? How’s that working out for you, eternal bachelor?” Robin snapped, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m not doing this, she doesn’t even acknowledge me when I’m in the same place as her” Eddie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That is not true, she totally acknowledges you,” Nancy said.

“Really? Then why does she go mute whenever I go near her?” Eddie snapped. It wasn’t exactly a lie, you did barely talk when he would try and start a conversation. He had no idea what he was doing wrong, and he eventually gave up on trying to you about a week ago.

“She’s just shy!” Robin offered, but Steve let out a snort which turned into a cough once he saw Nancy and Robin’s death stares.

“Sorry,” Steve said, but Eddie wasn’t buying it.

“No, why did you laugh, Harrington?”

“It’s just that she’s not shy. Like, at all. Everyone knows-” Steve was cut off by Nancy throwing a movie at his head.

“See? I told you, she hates me,” Eddie said, making an ‘x’ with his arms.

“No, she’s only shy when she’s nervous. And people only get nervous when they like someone. Probably why she was a social butterfly with you, Stevie,” Robin said, glaring at Steve. He took one of the movies off the shelf and threw it at her, missing and hitting the register.

“Can we stop focusing on this dodgeball game and fucking help me? Please?” Eddie yelled.

“We told you what to do,” Nancy said. “It’s up to you, though.”

“I can’t just put on a massive show and tell her something she definitely is not going to say back,” Eddie said, talking with his hands.

“Fine, then never tell her you like her and keep swimming in this endless pool of self pity.” Robin said flatly.

“Jesus, that was harsh.”

“Reality’s harsh, Munson. So what’s it gonna be, you keep being a little bitch or you finally do something about this crush you’ve had on her?” Robin retorted. Eddie was staring into space as he thought it over, and suddenly he looked back up at Robin.

“If this fails, you’re dead, Buckley, and you’re not safe either, Wheeler.”

-

You had been with Nancy all day; she was taking you on random errands, picking up Mike and his friends from random places, you guys even made a cake for some reason. It was starting to get weird when you told her you had to be home for dinner, even though that was a lie.

“Well, you could have dinner here!” she quipped, and your eyebrows raised.

“Okay, what’s going on?” you said, putting your cake-covered fork in the sink.

“What do you mean?” Nancy said, fear in her eyes. You gave her a sharp expression.

“You’re not a good liar, Nance,” you said, poking her.

“I’m not lying,” she said, dragging out the last syllable. You bowed your head a little, looking up at her through your lashes with your accusatory eyes.

“Alright, then take me home,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Are you su-”

“Wheeler.”

“Okay, fine.” You two got into the car, buckling your seatbelts and setting off for your house.

“You know, today’s my favorite and least favorite holiday,” you stated simply, looking out the window.

“Why least favorite?” Nancy asked with her eyes still on the road.

“It sucks, ya know? Not having someone to celebrate Valentine’s Day with. Sure, you have your friends and family, and that’s love, I’m not saying that it isn't. But being with someone, dating someone is a whole different kind of love. I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’d be nice to be able to, to feel comfortable expressing that to someone, for someone to express that to you,” you sighed. Nancy looked over at you, but you didn’t notice with your gaze fixated on the trees you passed.

You were telling her the truth; it would be nice to express that kind of love to someone. What you weren’t telling her was that you had that someone in mind already. You thought about the boy you had met a while back, funny enough through someone who had already tried to hook up with you. You thought about his dark, wavy, long hair; his boyish smile whenever you walked into a room, his laugh when he was wrestling with Dustin. You never made a move to show your feelings, you were always too shy around him. You thought that avoiding any interaction would give people zero opportunities to assume anything, and you didn’t want anyone to know you had the biggest crush on the person who never liked anybody.

“Why didn’t you say that it’d be nice to love someone?”

“Huh?” you asked, looking over at Nancy as she pulled you from your thoughts.

“You said you would want to express that to someone, is there a certain person you have in mind?” she asked, and you tensed up a little.

“No, I don’t know why I said that,” you said quickly, looking back out the window to avoid any eye contact. After averting your gaze, you failed to see Nancy smile, her eyes filled with hopefulness. 

Soon enough you were home, relieved at the sight of your front door. You got out of the car, turning around and slowly walking towards your house. You turned back towards the car, but Nancy had already sped off. You sighed, making it to the door and inside your house.

Something felt off. You weren’t entirely sure what it was, but you knew something was severely out of place. It almost felt like someone else was home, and when you heard something fall from down the hall, you almost screamed. Your hand slapped over your mouth, fight or flight taking over your nervous system. You took slow, silent steps further into the house, quietly grabbing the vase of flowers that was on your dining room table. You knew the sound had come from your room, and you approached the door, ready to attack the intruder.

Your door was slightly ajar, but you couldn’t see who was in the room. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You opened them when you kicked the door in, basically pitching the vase at the figure in front of you.

Luckily Eddie was already facing the door due to him hearing you walk through the front door and waiting for you to make it into your room. He was met with a vase of flowers hurtling towards his head, and he ducked just in time for it to hit the wall behind him.

During this you had hid your face from view, but when you heard Eddie’s voice you peeked your eye through the space in between your fingers.

“Jesus H. CHRIST!” he yelled, his eyes wide.

“EDDIE? What the f- How did you even get in here? I could have-” you started, but the sentence was left unfinished as your eyes fell to the rose petal-covered floor. The red flowers were littered everywhere, leaving barely any of the carpet to show. There was a box of chocolates on the floor near Eddie’s feet, him having dropped them in your ambush. You looked up towards your bed, a bouquet of your favorite flowers laying on the comforter. Your brows furrowed then raised, looking up slowly at the blush-stained boy. He wasn’t looking at you, and you had to cough for him to finally make eye contact. His foot was tapping on the carpet, slightly crinkling the flowers under it.

“This is not my fault,” he said abruptly. You let one of your brows fall, and Eddie put his hands out palms-down. “Wait- it is, it is my fault. I mean it wasn’t my idea, but I did, ya know, set the thing up. The whole flower thing took, like, ten years. I also hoped that this is the right flower because Robin screws up everything-”

“Munson.”

“I just really like you and I had to tell you not because Robin threatened to do it first but because I really wanted to. I had been thinking about it forever, so here you go, I guess,” he said way too quickly. Your face eased, and you looked around the floor again. A silence fell over the room, and Eddie started scratching the back of his neck. “Can you say something, please?” he said in a little voice. Your eyes found him again, and a slight smile appeared on your face.

“You like me?” you said, and Eddie looked around.

“I mean, I am standing in the middle of your room with a box of candy and enough flowers to fill a small village, so I’d say so,” he said, laughing at the end. The nervous look was still in his eyes, and you let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank God,” you said, and it was his turn to raise his eyebrows. “It’s so hard trying to ignore you, I just get so afraid to talk to people I like, I feel like I’m going to screw it up or something,” you said, and a smile grew on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, I couldn’t even tell,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. You smiled back at him, but then took the box of chocolates from his hand.

“I love the fact that you did this, I really do, but you’re going to hate me when I tell you I don’t like chocolate,” you said, squinting one of your eyes and looking at his hurt expression.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “This might be a deal breaker for me.”

“No!” you exclaimed, and he shook his head and opened the box of chocolates, popping one into his mouth.

“No, I think it is, darling,” he said, closing his eyes and humming as he chewed on the candy. You made a face of disgust, and when Eddie opened his eyes he grinned down at you while still chewing. You rolled your eyes, taking the box from him and setting it on your bedside table. You turned back towards him to see him licking his chocolate covered fingers, and you laughed as you walked over to him.

He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands moving to hold your waist. You both smiled at each other until Eddie started to look around the room. You tried to catch his eye, but he finally looked down and stayed there. You started playing with the roots of his hair, tugging lightly to try and lift his head up.

“Are you gonna kiss me or what, Munson?” you egged on, and he looked up at you through his eyelashes.

“Am I allowed to?” he asked with a small smile.

“It depends, do you still taste like chocolate?” you asked, and he smiled.

“That’s for you to decide, darling,” he said, and you two leaned in, mouths connecting at a perfect pressure. He kissed you gently, almost as if he didn’t want to go too far too fast. His arms enclosed you more, bringing you closer to him. After a couple seconds you pulled away, licking your lips.

“You do still taste like chocolate,” you said. “We might have to postpone this little make-out sesh.” He rolled his eyes and pulled you back in, and you smiled into his kisses. He moved his arms up from your waist so he could cup your face, and you tightened your arms around him. Your fingers were now really tugging his hair with each kiss getting deeper than the last. Your lips were colliding with more force than they had before, and you didn’t even know you had this kind of neediness in you. Everything was moving perfectly, your lips at the same pace, your hair pulling at just the right hardness and time, his hands moving back down your body to the back of your legs where he tapped lightly. You took the signal and jumped up, after which he carried you to the bed. Once you reached the edge, he slowly laid you both down, his frame hovering over yours.

You could feel the pool of arousal beginning to form in your underwear, and you hooked your leg around Eddie’s lower abdomen to bring his hips closer to yours. He knew what you were doing, and before you knew it he was grinding his bulge against your clothed pussy. You let out a moan, but it was muffled by Eddie’s mouth on yours. Your hand moved down, tracing his torso before landing on the waistband of his jeans. You fumbled with the button, but he put his hand over yours to stop you.

“Even though I’ve been thinking about this for the longest time, I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said, his thumb rubbing circles over your hand.

“What about me undoing your pants makes you think I don't want to be undoing them?” you said, pulling your head back and making a face.

“Yeah, that doesn’t make a lot of sense now that I think about it,” he said. “But I just wanted to make sure.”

“Well that’s very kind of you, Eddie. But I’m just gonna pick up where I left off, if that’s okay with you,” you said. He smiled down at you.

“That’s perfectly fine,” he said, and you resumed undoing the button of his jeans. He helped you take the jeans off of himself, casting them aside to the petals on the ground.  and moving back over you. This time he stopped at your waist, lifting your shirt up slightly and pressing kisses to your hip bones. You let out a content sigh, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin fulfilling every dream you’d been having about this moment. His fingers tucked into your skirt waistband, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs and throwing it on the flower-covered floor. He buried his face in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs and moving too slowly up to your heat. Your hands moved to his hair, tugging lightly as he made his way up, finally pulling at it as he kissed your folds lightly. He ran his tongue up the crevice, parting your folds and brushing over your clit. You moaned a bit louder this time, his hands and arms hooking under your legs to give him better access. He was lapping at your clit now, his tongue flicking roughly in the perfect way and sending jolts up your body with each contact. He moved one of his arms back from around your legs, his hand coming in contact with your now-soaking pussy. He circled your entrance a few times, teasing you until he finally pushed a finger inside. You were trying to move, but he was holding you down and forcing you to stay still. His finger pumped slowly in and out, and he added a second to fill you up even more. His tongue was relentless now, completely wrecking your clit, and that coupled up his fingers fucking you was sending your nerves into overdrive. Your legs began to shake, and Eddie had to tighten his grip on you to keep his groove. Your head laid back on the pillow with your back arched up, moans elicited from your throat as you were unable to keep quiet. You felt a pressure building up in your stomach, the feeling like going up to the drop of the roller coaster.

“Eds,” you panted. “Gonna, p-please.” Words were barely being strung together, and when you looked down at Eddie’s eyes on you, the drop hit. You couldn’t stop the orgasm that had been impending for so long, and soon enough you were a shaking, screaming mess for the dark haired boy in between your legs. Eddie never ceased, his tongue hurriedly lapping up your juices as you rode out your high. There was finally a calmness spread over you, your breath heavy as Eddie pressed a final kiss to your swollen clit. He moved to rest on his elbows, looking at you with his chin glistening. He grinned, and you gave him a tired smile to which he chuckled.

“You definitely taste better than the chocolate, darling,” he said, and you rolled your eyes and tried to kick him. You extended your hands out and clasped your fingers, signaling for him to come closer to you. He got up and hovered over you, giving you a quick kiss before moving to your side. He held you close to him as your breathing finally steadied, kissing a path across your forehead. You snuggled your head into his chest, your breathing finally in sync and fell asleep, your Valentine’s Day utterly made.