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[bradshawsbaby]

Sprinkles of Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: It's Bob's birthday and you want to do something special for him. The problem is that you've only been on two dates, and you can't get out of your head about making that first move.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to my #1 Guy, Lewis Pullman! I thought we all deserved some sweet Bob fluff to celebrate!

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, featuring the jitters and nervousness that comes with a new relationship.

You glanced at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, your fingers itching to reach for it where it sat taunting you on the counter near the cash register.

Biting down on your lower lip, you peeked surreptitiously over your shoulder before finally picking it up, your finger hovering hesitantly over the green messages icon.

“Are you finally going to text him or are you just going to keep staring longingly at your phone all day?”

Your cousin’s teasing voice startled you, pulling you out of your silent reverie as you fumbled the phone, nearly dropping it to the floor in your haste to get a grip on it and shove it inside your apron pocket.

Alexandria just laughed in response, her dark eyes sparkling as she slid a tray of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies onto one of the display case shelves. Normally, you would have complimented her on how amazing they smelled, but given the knowing smirk she was sending your way, you stuck your tongue out at her instead.

“Stick your tongue out at me all you want,” she told you, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “But I know you, and I know how badly you want to text him. So why don’t you just do it already and save yourself all the torment?”

“Lexie,” you groaned, your phone suddenly feeling like a rock inside your pocket. Why did your cousin have to know you like the back of her hand?

You were saved from having to elaborate, however, when one of the timers dinged in the kitchen, signaling that the newest batch of muffins you and Lex had put in a little while ago was finished. She shot a pointed look in your direction, making it clear the conversation wasn’t over, before turning on her heel and going to take the muffins out of the oven.

Since it was the usual mid-morning lull and the only customers currently inside the bakery were a college student working on her laptop near the window and two elderly ladies enjoying conversation over scones and tea, you figured you should be both a good cousin and a good employee and go help Lexie in the back.

Despite the fact that you had already been working at the bakery for a few months now—ever since you had moved to San Diego—you still couldn’t help but be blown away whenever it hit you that your cousin had really accomplished the dream she’d been chasing since you were little girls. For as long as you could remember, Alexandria had been wanting to open up her very own bakery, a cozy little spot where people could come to read, hang out, and relax, all while enjoying some homemade treats and delicious coffee. It seemed like just yesterday that the two of you were playing with her Easy-Bake Oven, and now here she was—living the dream as a successful small business owner. You couldn’t have been more proud of her. Or more grateful that she’d given you both a job and a place to live when you’d decided to follow in her footsteps and make the move out to California.

Lex was like the big sister you never had. She gave the best advice and she knew you inside and out. Which was normally a good thing, but judging by the way she was looking at you from under her dark lashes, you knew today was going to be one of those days where she insisted on pushing you out of your comfort zone.

You sighed in exasperation as you helped her set the freshly baked orange cranberry muffins—a favorite among her loyal customers—on the cooling rack. “I wish I hadn’t even mentioned it. It’s not that big of a deal,” you insisted, supremely conscious of the weight of your phone pressing against your thigh as you worked.

“If it’s not that big of a deal, then why do you seem to be making it one?” Lexie replied with that razor-sharp wit of hers, winking when you shot her a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I’m not!” you insisted, although you knew that was a complete and total lie. You were being ridiculous and you knew it, but every time you even thought about sending him a message, your heart started pounding inside your chest and your palms got all gross and clammy.

Lex crossed her arms over her chest, throwing an exasperated look heavenward. “Babe, you’ve already been on two dates with him and he wants to take you out on another. Do you seriously think you’re going to send him running for the hills if you send him a text wishing him a happy birthday?”

When you heard it out loud, it did sound pretty stupid. He was such a great guy, so sweet and attentive and caring, and he had done nothing to indicate that he was losing interest or that he would be freaked out by such a simple message. But still…

“I do want to text him,” you confessed, biting your lip as you carried the empty muffin tray over to the large sink where your cousin washed all her baking supplies.

“So what’s holding you back?” Lexie asked, her voice gentler this time as she leaned her hip against the counter, clearly trying to understand. She’d seen your heart get broken enough times to know that you were much more cautious now when it came to entrusting it to other people.

You sighed softly, fiddling with the strings on your pink-and-white striped apron as you tried to put your feelings into words. “It’s just—we’ve only been on two dates. I mean, they were really amazing dates, but still. Only two. And our birthdays only came up once in passing on our first date. He never mentioned it again, even when he called the other night to ask me if I’d like to go out this weekend. So on the one hand, I do want to text him to wish him a happy birthday, but on the other hand, what if it weirds him out that I remembered? What if he thinks I’m some kind of obsessive stalker and gets the ick and then ghosts me?”

“For wishing him a happy birthday?” your cousin questioned skeptically, her eyebrows rising until they were practically touching the edges of her blunt bangs.

“I’ve been ghosted before for less,” you muttered in embarrassment, knowing that your love life was a disaster compared to your cousin, who had been with her soon-to-be-husband since high school.

Lex softened immediately, stepping beside you and wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. “I know,” she murmured soothingly, rubbing your arm with a gentle hand. “But those guys were jerks who didn’t deserve you. From everything I know about this guy, he sounds so great. He seems like the kind of guy who would be happy that you remembered his birthday.”

Honestly, you couldn’t argue with her there.

Bob Floyd was unlike any man you’d ever met before. He was everything you’d ever hoped to find but had feared you never would, the kind of perfect that seemed too good to be true, the gentleman that you had thought existed only in fairytales.

It had been over a month now since he’d stepped off a storybook page and walked into your life.

You could still remember that afternoon so clearly. It was a Saturday, and the bakery had been surprisingly dead. Lexie had decided to run to the bank, leaving you in charge of things in her absence. You’d been rearranging some of the pastries in the display case when the bell over the front door chimed, signaling a customer.

Stepping up to the counter, the words of greeting died in your throat when one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen in your life approached, a shy smile stretching across his face.

“Hi,” he greeted you in a soft-spoken voice, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, and yet you’d never seen a guy look better.

“Hi,” you echoed, your eyes widening as you got lost in a gaze as blue as the cornflowers that grew in your grandparents’ backyard.

The two of you just stared at each other for a couple minutes, neither of you saying anything, even as the air between you seemed to spark and hum with electricity.

“Um, I was, uh, hoping that you still had some cupcakes left. I know it’s a little later in the day and my neighbor who recommended this place said that you should always get here early, but, um, I have a little barbeque that I’m going to and I wanted to bring some dessert. I’m hopeless at making anything myself,” he rambled, his eyes crinkling as he laughed somewhat nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was only when he cleared his throat awkwardly a moment later that you realized you hadn’t yet responded to him.

“Oh! Cupcakes!” you exclaimed, your voice coming out a little louder and squeakier than you had intended. “Of course!” Running your hands down the front of your apron, you shook your head slightly to try to knock some sense into it. You walked over to the display case, indicating that he should come take a look. “Normally we’d already be sold out of a lot of these, but it’s been quieter today than usual, so we still have plenty left. I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Seems like it,” he smiled, his blue eyes latching onto your face.

Something about the way he said it made your insides feel as gooey as the batter Lexie used to make her double chocolate fudge cake.

“How many cupcakes do you need?” you asked, working overtime to keep from getting flustered.

“I think two dozen should be fine,” he replied, his eyes roaming over the display case shelves. “Hmm, they all look so good, I wouldn’t know where to start. Do you have any recommendations?”

“The lemon zest cupcakes are really popular. So are the red velvet and the coconut cloud. Oh, and the German chocolate.” You laughed sheepishly. “Honestly, they’re all really good.”

He laughed in response, a small dimple appearing in his cheek that only further endeared him to you. “Which one is your favorite?” he asked, his voice so earnest it made your chest ache.

You didn’t even have to think about it. “The funfetti,” you told him, indicating the vanilla cupcakes baked with rainbow chips and topped with swirls of vanilla frosting and an extra dash of sprinkles.

“I’ll take a dozen funfetti cupcakes then. And you can surprise me with the other dozen,” he grinned, making you smile.

“I hope you and everyone at the barbeque enjoys,” you said after you finished ringing him up, sliding the two boxes of cupcakes towards him.

“I’m sure we will. This place comes highly recommended,” he replied with a smile. “Are you Lexie, the owner?”

“No, no, I’m her cousin,” you explained, introducing yourself by name.

“I’m Robert Floyd,” he said, holding out his hand to you. “But everyone calls me Bob.”

“Very nice to meet you, Bob,” you beamed, sliding your hand into his and shaking firmly. His hand was large and warm and calloused and it felt like yours had been made to fit inside it.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he murmured softly, holding onto your hand for another second or two before slowly releasing it. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m sure I’ll be back again soon.”

“We serve really good coffee,” you said suddenly, desperate to find a reason to get him to come back. “And we open really early. You know, if you want to get some on your way to work.”

Bob’s beautiful blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you.” He picked up his boxes of cupcakes and turned towards the door. Before he left, he shot you one last smile that melted your insides. “See you around.”

After that, Bob Floyd had found plenty of reasons to stop by the bakery. The following Monday, he’d stopped by in the morning to grab coffee for him and his friends on his way to work. That was when you’d learned that he was a naval aviator stationed at North Island.

“You were right about those funfetti cupcakes,” he told you, patting his stomach with a grin. “I think I ate about half the box before I thought to share them with anyone else.”

Your eyes crinkled and you felt your skin grow warm as you smiled in response. “Good, I’m so glad.”

You made sure to slip a cupcake in with all his coffee orders, a gesture which he didn’t fail to notice, judging from the extra large tip he left in the jar.

“See you soon,” he smiled, balancing all that coffee in his large hands as he backed out of the bakery.

From then on, he was there practically every day, stopping in for coffee or for some cupcakes after work. He often picked up things for other people—his friends or his neighbor who had recommended the bakery to him. But for himself, he always stuck with the funfetti cupcakes.

“I know I should branch out and try something new,” he told you one day through a mouthful of sprinkles. “But I can’t help it—these are just so good.”

It had taken nearly two weeks for Bob to work up the nerve to finally ask you if you might be interested in getting dinner with him sometime. You’d had to bite your tongue to keep from immediately screaming, “YES!” in his face,

The two of you spent your first date at a gorgeous little seafood restaurant right on the water, and then went for a long walk on the beach afterwards. It was truly the best date you’d ever been on. Bob was a perfect gentleman, attentively listening to everything you had to say and making you feel as though he actually cared about what was important to you. He’d even draped his jacket over your shoulders as you walked by the water, noticing the way you were shivering slightly in the dress you’d worn. You had been hoping he would kiss you at the end of the night, but like the gentleman that he was, he’d simply brushed your cheek with his lips, asking in a hushed voice if you’d like to see him again.

You wanted that very much.

On your second date, Bob took you mini golfing, something you’d told him that you hadn’t done since you were a little girl. You didn’t think you’d ever laughed so much as you did that night, no matter how terrible you turned out to be at miniature golf. Just like on your first date, Bob walked you to your door at the end of the night, his hand resting on the small of your back as you turned to look up at him, your eyes begging him to give you a proper kiss goodnight.

He had to duck his head slightly as he leaned in closer, a lock of his honey-colored hair draping across his forehead as his gaze latched onto yours, your breath mingling as the two of you inched closer and closer.

It was a soft kiss, sweet and chaste. His lips just barely brushed against yours, sending a shock of electric currents up and down your spine. When he pulled back, the both of you were flushed and stammering.

“C-can I call you tomorrow?” he asked, still so shy even after two dates.

“I hope you do,” you whispered with a smile, squeezing his hand before slipping through your front door.

Faithful to his word, Bob had called you the next day. The two of you were supposed to be going out again this weekend.

But that brought you back to your current dilemma—his birthday. You knew you were being stupid about this. Texting him for his birthday wasn’t tantamount to a marriage proposal. It wasn’t like you were trying to throw him a surprise party or invite yourself over for cake. It was a text message for crying out loud. And even though it had only come up once, he had told you when his birthday was. It wasn’t like you had gone to North Island and asked to see his personnel file.

The truth was, you were just terrified of screwing things up. You’d gone on plenty of dates with guys who had seemed really nice, who you had really thought were into you, only to be ghosted or flat-out rejected. Deep down inside, you knew that Bob was different from all those other guys, but still—the thought of sending him running made your stomach twist into knots.

“Babe, you know what I’m going to say,” Lexie murmured, your cousin’s voice pulling you out of all your convoluted thoughts. “If you never take a risk, then nothing’s ever going to change. I know you’re nervous, but just go for it. The worst that happens—seriously, the worst case scenario—is that he ghosts you. But you know what? If he does that, then he wasn’t worth your time anyway. And if he doesn’t? Well, maybe he’ll start to fall even harder for the gorgeous girl who remembered his birthday.” She grinned, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right?” you grinned ruefully, pulling back from your cousin’s embrace and fiddling nervously with the scrunchie on your wrist.

“It’s a gift,” she replied with a wink, turning to look over her shoulder when the bell over the front door chimed. “I’ve got it,” she told you, squeezing your arm before heading back out to the front.

That left you alone in the back kitchen, your phone burning a hole in your apron pocket and your heart hammering inside your chest.

“Okay, don’t be an idiot,” you murmured to yourself. As far as pep talks went, it was far from the most inspirational, but it did the job as you pulled your phone out. “It’s not too much too soon. It’s just a text,” you breathed out. “It’s just a text.”

Opening your messages, you found Bob’s name—he was right near the top after texting you just yesterday—and opened up your conversation thread, chewing on your bottom lip.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you tapped out a quick message that you hoped was short, sweet, and to the point and hit send.

Happy Birthday, Bob! I hope you have a wonderful day! 🥳🎉

You felt hot all over as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, your pulse stuttering in your veins as you wondered how long it would take him to see it. From what he had told you about his job, he often spent hours in the air each day, so chances were good he didn’t even have his phone on him right now.

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and determined not to think about it. A task that was much easier said than done. But as you walked back out into the main part of the bakery, you found that a small crowd had formed, so you jumped into assisting your cousin behind the counter.

“Well?” Lexie asked under her breath as you helped her fill a couple boxes with a dozen cinnamon chip muffins.

“I sent it,” you murmured in reply, purposely avoiding her direct gaze. “But I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

As much as you had tried not to, you’d been compulsively checking your phone every five minutes.

Lex shrugged and waved it off. “It’s still early yet,” she said confidently, carrying the boxes over to the patiently waiting customer.

You threw yourself into various tasks around the bakery, anything that would keep your mind off your phone. You restocked the shelves in the display cases, organized the money in the cash register, wiped down the counters in the kitchen, scrubbed the baking pans, frosted cupcakes, replaced the coffee beans, and waited on any customers who walked in.

A couple of times, your phone buzzed in your pocket and your heart jumped into your throat, only to sink down to your stomach when you pulled it out and found that it was just an email notification or a text from your mom.

The longer you went without hearing from Bob, the harder you had to work to convince yourself that he wasn’t ignoring you.

No. He wasn’t ignoring you. Bob wasn’t like that. You were sure of it.

It was a little after noon, just when you’d taken a cup of coffee into the back for a short break, when you felt your phone buzz again, vibrating against your thigh through your apron. Swallowing nervously, you put your coffee down and reached into your pocket, a small gasp escaping you when you saw Bob’s name on the screen.

You could scarcely unlock your phone fast enough, opening up the text thread to read his reply.

Wow, you remembered! That means so much to me. Thank you! ☺️ Sorry it took me a little while to respond—we were doing some test flights, but I’m on my lunch break now and I’ll be on the ground for the rest of the day. How are you?

It took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to scream and jump up and down like a little girl. It felt like a boulder had been lifted off your shoulders. You hadn’t freaked him out! He hadn’t ghosted you! It was just like Lexie said—he was happy that you remembered.

Grinning like a fool, you leaned against the counter and typed out a response, not caring that your coffee was getting cold.

I’m doing great! Glad to hear you got some flying in on your special day ✈️ Doing anything to celebrate?

It was only after you had sent the message that you began to fret that it sounded like you were being nosy about his plans, or worse, trying to insert yourself into them.

But then Bob responded a minute later and put your worries to rest.

Nothing too fancy. My friends ordered lunch and got me a cake. They sang “Happy Birthday,” too, even though I begged them not to lol. I usually keep it pretty lowkey on my birthday.

You smiled as you wrote back, Was it a funfetti cake?

His next response came in no time at all, and it made your stomach flutter to imagine that he was focusing entirely on you and your conversation during his lunch break.

If only! It was really good, but I don’t think anything compares to those funfetti cupcakes 😋

At that moment, Lex walked into the back, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the huge smile plastered on your face. It felt like it was going to get permanently stuck there.

“Well, well, well,” she grinned, sidling up next to you. “Should I take that glowing smile to mean you finally heard back from your lieutenant?”

You ducked your head shyly, your cheeks growing warm. “He isn’t my lieutenant,” you insisted.

“Mhm, sure,” your cousin grinned, laughing loudly when you nudged her in the side. “So it worked out after all? He didn’t say you were a freaky stalker? I shouldn’t be expecting the police to burst down the door any minute?”

“Okay, okay,” you groaned, realizing how ridiculous you’d been behaving that morning. “You were right. It all worked out. He was very touched that I remembered his birthday,” you murmured, sheepishly scuffing your sneaker against the floor.

“I’ve gotta say it—told you so,” Lex smirked victoriously, wrapping her arms around you and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, feigning annoyance even as you grinned and returned your cousin’s hug. “You know, Bob was actually just texting me that his friends at work got him a cake, but that it just doesn’t compare to your funfetti cupcakes,” you told her with a proud smile.

“What can I say? They are pretty damn delicious,” she winked, her chest puffing up with pride. A sudden thought struck her as she looked at you. “Hey, what time does Bob get off from work?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Usually around six or seven, I think,” you told her, your brow wrinkling in confusion. “Why?”

“Hmm, perfect,” Lexie mused, tapping her chin as she glanced over her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. Your older cousin was always plotting something.

“I mean that the bakery closes at five-thirty,” she said, as if you weren’t already well aware of that fact. When she realized that you weren’t exactly catching her drift, she went on, “Which means you could invite Bob over for a little after hours birthday treat if you’d like,” she grinned.

“Lex!” you gasped, scandalized.

Your cousin threw her head back laughing. “I didn’t mean that you should jump his bones in the middle of the bakery! I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t do that,” she chuckled teasingly. “I just meant you could surprise him with something sweet, on the house. Something we make here,” she added with a pointed look that made your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment.

“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding your head slowly. “Right. Of course.” You cleared your throat slightly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not! Anyone who makes my cousin this happy is welcome to free cupcakes anytime,” Lex said firmly, cupping your face in her hands and beaming at you.

“You’re the best,” you told her, throwing your arms around her and squeezing her in a tight hug. “I’ll text Bob now and see if he thinks he’ll be up for it.”

“If you’re the one asking, I’m sure he will be,” she winked, nudging you playfully before turning to go back to the front counter.

Once she was out of sight, you turned your attention back to your phone and bit your lip, trying to think of the best way to phrase what you wanted to ask him.

Speaking of funfetti cupcakes, any chance you’d want to swing by the bakery on your way home from work? We close at 5:30 today, but we make special after hours exceptions for our best customers 😉🧁

Was that stupid? That probably sounded stupid. Would he think that you were suggesting a quickie on the bakery floor the way you thought your cousin had been suggesting? Oh God, could you unsend that message before he got it?

I would love to! Is 6:45 too late?

This man didn’t cease to amaze you.

No, that’s perfect!

See you then ☺️

You tried your hardest to smother the smile that was threatening to completely overtake your face, but you couldn’t do it. This man gave you butterflies like you’d never experienced before in all your life, and the thought of getting to see him in just a few hours made you feel like you were going to burst from excitement and anticipation.

You didn’t even have to tell Lexie what Bob had said. The second she saw your face, she just smiled knowingly and told you, “I’ll be out of here by six.”

Time had never seemed to move so slowly as it did that day while you waited for closing time to finally come around. Lex observed your growing impatience with amusement, giving you as many odd jobs as she could to hopefully make the minutes go faster.

When the clock finally chimed five-thirty, you practically sprinted towards the door, locking it and flipping the closed sign around to ward off anyone who might have tried to stop by for a last minute treat.

“Good thing business is so good or I might get mad at you for scaring off customers,” Lexie teased.

True to her word, your cousin helped you clean up and then was heading out the door by six o’clock.

“Have so much fun,” she told you, blowing you a quick succession of air kisses. “And tell Bob happy birthday from me,” she added with a wink before slipping out the door.

With your cousin gone, that left you about forty-five minutes to finish getting ready before Bob arrived. You quickly set a playlist of classic 60s tunes to play softly through the speakers—you and Bob had discovered you had a similar taste in music about halfway through your first date—and then hurried into the bathroom to fix up your hair and apply a little bit of make-up. You usually didn’t bother with much when you were working, but you wanted to look nice for Bob.

Once you were done getting ready, you went into the back to get his little birthday treat set up—Lexie had made a fresh batch of funfetti cupcakes towards the end of the day just for the occasion. You had just finished placing one of the cupcakes on a small plate with a lace doily and inserting a candle into it when you heard a faint knock on the front door.

Your heart rate immediately began climbing as you ran your hands over the T-shirt and jeans you’d worn today, hoping you looked halfway presentable. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, you stepped out into the main part of the bakery and felt your legs instantly turn to Jell-O at the sight of Bob standing at the door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You’d only told him once in passing how much you loved them, and he had remembered.

Wow, that really did mean a lot.

“Hi,” you greeted him, standing in the open doorway and beaming up at him.

“Hi,” he echoed, that little dimple making an appearance as he smiled down at you. After a beat, he seemed to suddenly remember that he was holding the flowers in his hand. “Oh, these are for you,” he said, holding them out shyly.

“They’re beautiful, Bob,” you breathed out softly, accepting them with a smile and pressing them to your nose. “My favorite. You remembered.”

“Just like you remembered my birthday,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but which you knew you felt just as much as he did.

The two of you stood there like that for a few moments, just gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling dreamily. Then you came to your senses.

“Come in, come in,” you told him, stepping out of the doorway so that he could enter and then closing the door behind him. “Gosh, these really are such beautiful flowers. That was so sweet of you. You didn’t have to get me anything. It is your birthday, after all,” you said, guiding him to a table in the center of the room.

“I wanted to,” Bob replied, taking a seat. He was still in his flight suit and he looked so handsome. “I’m happy that they made you smile.”

“It’s hard not to smile when I’m around you,” you told him, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could think twice about them. Your cheeks grew warm when you realized how vulnerable they were, and you buried your face in the bouquet once more.

Bob’s cheeks had grown rosy as well, and you noticed that his leg was bouncing nervously underneath the table. “I feel the same way,” he murmured softly.

You could have thrown your arms around him and kissed him right then and there, but then you recalled the actual reason why you had invited him over.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said suddenly, smiling brightly as you laid the bouquet of flowers down on the counter. “Wait right here and close your eyes,” you told him, waiting until he had done so before hurrying into the back and lighting the candle you’d tucked into his cupcake.

When you stepped back into the main room on quiet feet, you found that Bob was still patiently sitting with his eyes closed. Your heart swelled with deep affection—and was it possible something even deeper? You had never met anyone like him and you were certain you never would again.

It was at that moment that you realized “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes was currently playing through the speakers, as apropos a sign as you could imagine.

You cleared your throat slightly as you approached the table, the candle sparkling in front of your face as you brought it closer to the birthday boy.

“I know you said you weren’t a big fan of being serenaded with ‘Happy Birthday,’ so I’ll spare you my vocals,” you teased, setting the plate down in front of him. “But Happy Birthday, Bob.”

Opening his eyes, Bob glanced from your face down to the cupcake and then back up to you again. He seemed at a loss for words, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“This is—this—thank you,” Bob finally said, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

You smiled, sitting down beside him and gently resting your hand over his. “Blow out your candle before it melts into your cupcake,” you giggled.

He grinned at the sound of your laughter, leaning in closer to blow out the single candle, though he kept his eyes fixed on you the whole time.

“Lexie baked them fresh this afternoon. There’s a whole bunch more in the back that I’m going to be sending you home with,” you told him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his face lit up.

“What did I do to deserve all this? This is the best birthday present ever,” Bob chuckled, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing lightly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, glancing down at the table shyly. “The truth is, I was a little nervous to text you earlier.”

Bob looked surprised at your admission. “Why?” he asked, astonished.

You bit your lip and hesitated, but then decided to be honest. Like Lexie said, if you never took a risk, then you never got to see anything change. “I know this is going to sound so stupid, but I was worried you would think it was too much if I texted you for your birthday.”

“Too much?” he repeated, his brow crinkling in obvious confusion.

“You know, just because you had only mentioned your birthday once. I thought maybe I would seem too desperate or clingy or something if I reached out. I thought it would freak you out,” you confessed. “I know that sounds pretty dumb when I say it out loud.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Bob assured you, shaking his head slowly. “I know what you mean. To be honest, I think I’ve had that problem myself. Y’know, coming off too eager and scaring girls away,” he admitted, blushing as he ducked his head.

“Oh, Bob,” you murmured in understanding, lacing your fingers through his. With all the other things you two had in common, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a crappy dating history was something else you shared. “You could never scare me off,” you promised him.

Lifting his head, he smiled at you and reached out slowly, his fingertips stirring a few wisps of your hair as he brushed your cheek lightly. “And you could never freak me out. It meant so much to me that you remembered my birthday. It made my whole day, in fact. Even more than the funfetti cupcakes,” he said, his eyes crinkling. He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, then added softly, “I remember everything about you.”

“You do?” you whispered, feeling a sudden surge of emotion well up in your throat.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your favorite movies, the fact that you like tomatoes but hate ketchup, the way you throw your head back when you laugh really loudly. Your favorite flowers. I remember it all.”

“Bob,” you breathed out, the tears brimming in your eyes as your gaze dropped from his eyes down to his mouth.

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but soon enough, Bob was holding you in his arms, your lips pressed together in a kiss that was much less chaste than your first one, but just as sweet. Your arms snaked around his neck, one hand burying itself in his soft hair, the other resting on the nape of his neck. He let out a soft groan in response, one of his large hands resting on your hip and the other splaying across your back, holding you close.

It was a kiss that was so much like Bob himself—gentle, kind, tender, sweet, affectionate, attentive. He didn’t demand more than you were willing to give, he didn’t try to take anything from you. He just wanted to make you feel how much he cared about you, wanted to make you feel special and cherished. And he did. You hoped more than anything that you were doing the same for him.

Because the truth was that you were already falling for Bob Floyd, and falling hard.

When the two of you finally pulled back—a mutually hesitant parting borne solely of the need for oxygen—you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as Bob rested his forehead against yours.

“Okay, maybe that was the best birthday present ever,” he chuckled quietly, his lips brushing against your temple.

“I think so, too, and it’s not even my birthday,” you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder. “Are you going to have your cupcake?” you asked, glancing down at where it sat on the plate, still untouched.

“Mhm,” Bob nodded, wrapping an arm around you and brushing his fingers up and down your arm. “But there actually is something I’d like to ask you first,” he said, suddenly sounding nervous.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly looked so flustered.

“Of course. What is it?” you questioned, resting a hand on his arm.

“Well, all of this has been amazing,” he began, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. You had noticed they had a tendency to slide down when he was particularly nervous. “But there actually is one more thing that I’d really like for my birthday this year.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “What is it?”

Bob swallowed deeply and then looked directly into your eyes. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your lips parted as a little gasp of delighted surprise escaped you. It may have been Bob’s birthday, but it felt like you were the one being showered with gifts today.

“Oh, Bob, yes! Yes!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Yes?” Bob repeated between kisses, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes,” you told him seriously, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed out, the term of endearment falling easily off his tongue in that adorable midwestern accent of his. He pulled you into his arms once more and kissed you soundly.

You giggled softly as you reached for the funfetti cupcake and removed the candle, holding it up for him to take a bite. “Happy Birthday, Bob.”

[seat-safety-switch]

Nobody likes to shovel snow. That's why we invented cheap, rusty plow trucks. A truck is strong, so it can push a whole bunch of snow at one time, and old trucks are cheap, so nobody cries if they get rusted to bits. Wait, I'll cry about that.

An old truck is like an old, trusted friend: they were with you during the hard moments in your life. Picking up that arcade cabinet you found on the side of the road. Yanking your mom's old azalea bush out of her front yard. Barrelling down a rural road with your loyal dog on the bench seat beside you. Cutting the lights so the revenuers don't see you hiding in those trees, and they pass harmlessly until you can make good your escape, knowing they'll be stuck for hours in that valley maze and you can thermite a few more bulldozers before they figure out where you went. So it's sad whenever a truck is finally disposed of, and becomes condemned to its last useful task: shovelling snow.

Here at Switch Plow Truck Rescue, we don't think it has to be like that. Our team of experienced automotive restorers will immediately drive the truck to California, where it will quintuple in value despite not having been repaired in any real way. The improvement in resale price, however, of being "a California truck" will attract some sucker who is totally willing to spend six times as much money restoring it to stock. The truck survives its ordeal in the salt hell of winterland, we get a stack of money, as-seen-on-teevee custom car paint shops receive important work like "figure out what part of this used to be the floor," and everyone wins.

Sure, there's some risks, like any investment. We are legally required to tell you about them now. A lot of these trucks are so far gone that they blow away in the wind as soon as we get them on the trailer. Sometimes we can't even find them where they're parked: the act of brushing the accumulated snow off the body destroys the truck as well. And we've had to accept as little as triple value when an unusually savvy prospective buyer correctly guesses that a truck that lived in San Diego should still have all of its doors.

There's a lot of flaws in the model, if I'm honest, but would you rather go out there and shovel your driveway by hand, like a caveman, or would you like to commit mild interstate financial fraud through misrepresentation of goods? I thought so.

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 7

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, mentions of death, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This one’s kind of quick but it is what it is

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

When you wake up on Wednesday, the shame and anxiety that clawed your heart to sleep last night have melted into simmering anger that licks into white-hot fury as the day goes on. Last night when you’d left the bar, you’d felt so stupid. Stupid for believing that Javy respected you enough to be loyal to your agreement even if he didn’t have to be loyal to you. That’s the thing, the women didn’t bother you. You’d known what you were getting into the second Javy shoved his tongue down your throat the day you met. That and when you’d made it clear that you had no intention of warming his bed, you’d acknowledged that someone else probably would be. You’d just hoped he would respect you enough to have a little discretion. Zam was right, the bar was full of people with phones, cameras, and social media that would have eaten photos of Javy and those girls right up.

This time when you pull into the parking garage at Hard Deck Arena, your hands don’t shake as you hold back the urge to slam your car door as your flats slap against the concrete floors and the sound echoes through the space. You wrench the door to the arena open and trust your feet as they guide you to the door marked with the pink plaque. You knock on the door and thankfully a voice from inside calls out for you to enter. You barely wait for the door to shut before the words are out of your mouth. “I want out.” Zam looks up from her computer, pink lips parting slightly in surprise, though whether that’s due to your unexpected visit or what you’ve just said, you’re unsure. When she doesn’t answer, you enunciate the words again. “I. Want. Out. I’m done with the contract.” That seems to burst whatever bubble she’s trapped in.

“Roadie…” She says and you shake your head.

“No Zam, I’m done. I mean it.” Her lips purse into a thin line and she nods slowly. “Is there something I need to sign or anything? I can’t exactly afford a lawyer right now but I can try and figure out something if I have to.” You’re running out of steam now that Zam’s confirmed that you can get out of the contract. Relief washes cool through your veins, soothing the anger that’s been powering you all day.

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s not like you’re on our payroll or anything. The contract was more of a formality for the legal team in case things went sideways for any particular reason. “Consider it done unless you want to rip the physical copy up for closure.”

You’re surprised when you nod. “Yeah, I think I would actually,” she smiles faintly at that as she nods and gets up to root around in a file cabinet. She pulls a familiar sheet of paper out of a pink manila folder before she hands it over to you. You take a long look at the contract, unable to stop your eyes from wandering to the bottom of the page and tracing your and Javy’s signatures. This is for the best. You grip the top of the paper and rip. The sound seems to echo in the quiet of the room. That is, until the door swings open without warning and Javy walks into Zam’s office unannounced.

“Zam have you heard from-“ he blinks, surprised, as he takes in the sight of you, blinking back at him wide-eyed. “…Roadie.” You’ve moved to tear the contract smaller and you break the silence with the sound before you’re attempting to make it past Javy to the door of Zam’s office. Javy sticks an arm out to grab the door that’s still in the process of swinging closed behind him, effectively barring your path. “Hey Roadie, I’ve been trying to reach you all day.” You blocked his number last night once you got home. Originally you’d planned for it to be temporary while you gathered your thoughts. Now you doubt it’s a decision that will ever be undone.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes and school your features, pressing the torn pieces of the contract into his chest which he has the sense to grab with his free hand while you duck under his arm, making your escape. You don’t look back as you call out to him. “Goodbye, Javy.”

***

Javy leans on the doorbell with a force that he should be concerned about, but he can’t find himself to care. The sound of a chorus of barks makes him slump with relief until the door swings open and it’s not who he’s looking for. Bugs is standing in the doorway, arms crossed across her chest as Pudding and Taz squirm from where they're sitting behind her legs, no doubt commanded to remain there by their mother. Her brow is furrowed and she’s glaring at him. While Javy’s been on the other side of Zam’s wrath, he’s had yet to cross his best friend’s girlfriend and somehow her wrath is scarier than his PR rep’s. He swallows, hard.

“Bugs,” he acknowledges and her brow furrows deeper but she doesn’t say a word. “Listen, is Jake here?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck, the tension making him uncomfortable. She hums in a way that gives him nothing before stepping back from the doorway and jerking her chin towards the living room, a silent invitation for him to come in.

He steps into the house and Bugs directs the dogs to move for him before she leads them off to where he assumes she’s planning to keep them while he and Jake talk. Javy’s surprised to find the living room is empty when he gets there, however, and just as he’s about to turn around and search for either of the house’s inhabitants, Bug’s voice startles him. “Sit down, Javy.” The firmness of her tone doesn’t leave room for argument so he sits down on the couch, awkwardly. She stands across from him. “Javy, four months ago you were asking me not to hurt Jake and now I feel like we’ve reversed roles here.” Her anger melts and Javy gets a look at the tired woman behind her anger. “What you did was cruel, Javy. I don’t know why you did it, and maybe I don’t deserve to know, but she does, Javy. She deserves closure even if she can’t have your respect.”

The sound of the front door breaks the silence followed by the sound of Jake’s voice. “Bunny, I’m home, are you here?”

“In the living room, babe, we’ve got company.”

Jake appears in the living room a few moments later, hair pushed back and damp with sweat. He looks like he’s just gotten back from a run. “Javy,” he says and Javy nods to acknowledge his best friend. Jake looks between Javy and Bugs before he tilts his head towards the back door. “Come for a walk with me?” He asks and Javy nods again, wordlessly before he stands and leads the way to the back door.

Jake doesn’t say anything until they’ve made it halfway down the beach behind the house. “So, Javy what are you doing here?” He asks like he doesn’t already know.

“Look, man, I…” Javy trails off, letting his eyes follow the water as it laps up against their bare feet. “I fucked up. I know that.” Jake shakes his head.

“You didn’t just fuck up, Javy,” Jake says, and Javy flinches at the bitterness in Jake’s voice. “You made a promise to Roadie. You signed a damn contract, and then not only did you embarrass her, but you did it at an event YOU invited her to. What the actual FUCK, man? What did that sweet girl ever do to deserve that?” He shakes his head. “Hell, Javy I signed off on this, I let this happen, and you went and did something not only extremely rude but it was cruel. And I know no matter what happened between the two of you, she didn’t deserve that, Javy. Not from anyone, and certainly not from you.”

“I know I just…”

“You just WHAT, Javy?!” Jake snaps finally and Javy looks up, surprised. Jake’s genuinely upset with him. “I’ve kept my mouth shut for years man, because no matter what you were doing at least it was mutually understood between you and whatever girl you were fooling around with that it wasn’t serious. No one was getting hurt so I kept my damn mouth shut and let it happen. I thought one day you’d wake up from whatever daydream it is you’re stuck in and decide to grow up even if you didn’t want to settle down because I respect that if that’s not something you want. And then Roadie got involved and I thought maybe it was the start of something new and maybe she’d be the catalyst that got you to change and not only did you not change but someone actually got hurt this time, Javy.”

“Don’t pretend that you understand,” Javy grits out, fists tightening next to him.

“Understand what, Javy? What is there to understand? I’ve been begging you to explain it for years and you refuse to-”

“Because you wouldn’t get it!” Javy snaps, turning on Jake. “And don’t you dare pretend to understand because you don’t!”

“Why, why wouldn’t I-”

“BECAUSE YOU LEFT!” Javy snaps and Jake has the good sense to look surprised. “You left Arizona and you never once thought about how that affected everyone else, about how that affected me!” His chest is heaving as the anvil that’s been sitting on it for years lifts. “And I didn’t hate you for it, I really tried not to. You had a chance to be close to home and you took it and I couldn’t be mad, I really couldn’t. You were amazing and you were destined for greatness and maybe it was childish of me, but I always thought we’d be great together.” He shakes his head, trying to ignore the sting of tears threatening to push their way to the surface. “And then, after I’d finally made peace with it, you got hurt, left Dallas, and came to San Diego, knowing I would be there, and you didn’t even bother to give me a heads up. You were my brother, Jake, I always considered you one. But somewhere along the way, you reminded me that I’m not, not really.”

Jake has the good sense to look embarrassed. “Okay, Javy, I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize me going to Dallas meant so much to you. And I know I’ve already apologized for what happened when I came here and I know I can’t do anything to make up for what I did, but I’m going to work every single day to try and make up for that.” He shakes his head. “But why does Roadie have to pay for my mistakes?” He asks and Javy feels his chest squeeze uncomfortably.

“I never knew my dad,” Javy whispers and he hates how quiet his voice sounds. “You know that.” He swallows, hard. “And my uncle passed when we were in college. The two most important men in my life were gone before I even turned 20. And then you left too. Everyone was leaving and I didn’t know how to cope with it. I didn’t want to be alone. I hated the way it made me feel and I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. I didn’t want to be alone, but I also didn’t ever want to be the reason someone felt the way I did.” He shrugs, lightly. “So I made sure that couldn’t happen.”

“By keeping things casual.” Jake finishes and Javy nods. “The problem is, someone actually got hurt this time.” Javy sighs deeply.

“Yeah, someone actually got hurt this time.”

“If you don’t want to hurt anyone, why did you do it?” Jake asks, but all the malicious ferocity from earlier has left his voice.

Javy shakes his head. “It was supposed to be fake, you know? It wasn’t supposed to be real, but damn it, it started feeling real. Or at least as real as I can remember anything feeling. I didn’t think, I invited her to karaoke without really thinking about it, and then the moment I had a moment to actually think about it, I panicked. Then those girls were there and it was just so easy to slip into old patterns so I did it without thinking.” He takes a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” He hates how weak his voice sounds. “And I don’t know how to make it right.”

“Do you want to?” Jake asks, finally looking at Javy and Javy forces himself to meet the other man’s eyes.

“More than anything.” He pauses for a long moment. “She told Zam she wanted out of the contract. She ripped it up and threw it in my face.”

Jake lets out a chuckle, “good for her.” Javy finds himself matching the smile.

“Honestly, yeah,” he lets his mind drift for a second before his smile widens. “You know, she threw Josie Fitch’s expensive-ass shoes off the edge of the freeway?” Jake barks out a laugh and Javy chuckles in response.

“Did she really?” Javy nods.

“I think that’s the moment I fell in love with her,” Jake’s mouth drops open slightly before he attempts to school his features but Javy catches it. “If you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll use your spare key and murder you in the dead of night.” Jake mimes zipping his lips before throwing the invisible key into the ocean.

“So what are you going to do to get her back?” Jake asks and Javy smiles to himself.

“I think I have a plan.”

***

It’s been two weeks since you ended the contract. Two weeks since you’ve been to Hard Deck Arena, and two weeks since you last saw Javy. For the most part, your life has gone back to the way it was. Well, except that everyone still thinks you’re dating Javy, not that you’ve done anything to correct them. In your defense, the conversations have never been directed to you so much as at you as you walk into the teachers’ lounge too quickly for the conversation to die before your arrival, or some people simply feeling shameless enough to quiet their voices in your presence.

Today, however, you don’t have time to worry about the whispers as you struggle to accommodate the horde of adults crowding into your classroom that’s never felt small until this exact moment. You try to push down the feeling of embarrassment that’s been plaguing you all morning. In your rush this morning, you’d opted for a cheerful top and jeans for comfort and ease but now, surrounded by suits and smart-looking dresses that make your classroom smell faintly of starch, you feel severely under-dressed. Both students and parents alike are buzzing with excitement as you try and finalize a lineup that allows for the busier parents to get back to their jobs as soon as possible when a knock at your door makes you look up.

Your heart stops in surprise as you see the faces on the other side of the glass. You wave the unexpected visitors in before you can stop yourself and suddenly your room is even more full as two hockey players make their way into the room. Javy gives you a rueful smile while Jake is full-on grinning as he waves at the kids who are gaping at the players. Jake’s simply dressed in his jersey over jeans but Javy’s fully suited up except for his skates that he’s holding in one hand while the other is carrying an equipment bag.

“Mr. Machado!” One of the kids calls out and you push past a group of parents currently snapping photos of the players.

“Jake, Javy,” you shake your head as you try to wrap your head around the situation. “What are you doing here?”

Javy shrugs. “You asked if I would come to Career Day. I know you the deal is over but since I got dinner and lunch, I thought I owed you at least this. And if not for you, then for the kids.” He adds on quickly and you nod before you can stop yourself. Just because you’ve gotten a little braver in the last month doesn’t mean you’re ready to have a fight with your ex-fake-boyfriend in front of your entire class and their parents.

“Okay, okay. Um, just have a seat over there,” you motion over to where the other parents are gathered. “Oh!” You remember as they’re walking past you. Both boys turn to you. “Are you good with going last or do you need to get back to work?” Your brain is screaming at the idea of having to reorder the schedule, especially when a mom in a pantsuit who’s scheduled to go first is currently glaring daggers at the back of your head for the holdup. Jake shakes his head.

“We’ll go whenever you’re ready for us.” You give him an appreciative look and mouth a thank you at them as you head back to the front of the room.

***

An hour later, the last busy parent has just escaped your classroom after waving hurriedly back at their kid and you let your shoulders slump slightly in relief. Of course, there are a few parents remaining that have taken the day off to be here and they’re chatting amongst themselves. You motion over to Jake and Javy who’ve honestly been holding the attention of your class the entire time. As much as the other parents had tried to sway them, their tiny minds were in awe of the bright jerseys and Javy’s equipment.

The boys make their way to the front of the classroom and the class cheers. “Hey guys, it’s nice to see you all again!” Javy greets them and a chorus rises across the classroom.

“Hi, Mr. Machado!” Jake mimes grabbing his chest in response and they all giggle as he introduces himself and enjoys his own hello. You watch on fondly as the boys explain what they do for a living, Jake using Javy as a mannequin to explain the different parts of hockey gear.

Then they move on to the bag Javy brought and then the boys are handing around hockey pucks, one for each one of your students. They’re emblazoned with the Dogfighters’ logo and you watch as your students turn them over in their tiny hands, eyes wide in awe. Your heart aches at the kindness and thoughtfulness of the gift. These kids will remember this moment forever. Javy and Jake are holding up hockey sticks and showing off how to hit a puck with the stick.

Once the demonstration is over, Javy and Jake patiently field questions from the kids and while Jake’s explaining why they can’t wear their skates in the classroom, Javy turns to look at you and you feel your face heat as you’re caught staring. You give him a tiny wave and the corner of his mouth quirks upward and he gives you a tiny wave back. He turns back in time to answer a question from another one of your students.

By the time the bell rings for lunch, your students are still on a roll peppering the boys with questions and you have to corral them into a line and out the door. When you get back from dropping them off, you thank the parents that are left and see them out before you turn to your surprise visitors, crossing your arms across your chest as you regard them warily, the unease creeping into your mind now that you’re alone with them. “Thanks for having us today, Roadie!” Jake says goodnaturedly, as he collects the equipment they brought with them. He turns to Javy, “You should get changed.” Javy nods and gives you a nod before he heads towards the door.

“Oh! If you want, the staff bathrooms are a lot more private. Here I’ll get you my key-” You reach for your neck, rummaging through the keys on your lanyard as a knock sounds and you turn to see Josie leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey boys, I thought I heard familiar voices in here.” She says as she takes in Jake and Javy. You continue to fumble with your keys as speak up. “They came by for career day.”

“Did they now?” Josie says, a thoughtful look in her eye as she regards you a little too cooly and you abandon your key struggle.

“Actually, I should probably walk you down there myself.” You gesture for Javy to follow you, and you try to ignore the knowing look that Josie gives you as you pass her and she steps into your classroom. Once you’re out of earshot you turn to Javy to kill the silence of the hallway. “Thanks for coming today, I can tell it meant a lot to the kids. They’re going to remember today for the rest of their lives, and the pucks were such thoughtful gifts.”

“We actually wanted to bring shirts, but I wasn’t sure what everyone’s sizes were and Josie could only really just get us a head count.” Your heart squeezes slightly at the thought that Javy had reached out to Josie to ask for her help. “I was thinking, and Jake said we could talk to the front office about it, but maybe we could arrange for the kids to come to the arena for a field trip? They could hit some pucks and maybe watch practice? It could be fun.” Your heart squeezes tighter.

“I think they’d like that a lot. I can talk to our front office too and see what I can do on my end.” You say, giving him a tight smile as you reach the staff bathroom. You unlock the door and hold it open for him and you have a sudden thought. “Are you going to need any help with… any of it?” Javy chuckles and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, Meep, I do this every day, I’ve got it, but thanks for asking.” You take your lanyard off and hand it to him, trying to ignore the fact that he’s still using that name.

“Here, so you don’t have to worry about rushing because I’m waiting. Just lock up when you’re done.” You show him which key as you place the lanyard in his outstretched hand.

“Hey, Meep?” He calls out as you turn to go and you look back at him. “Do you always worry about other people like that?” You tilt your head to the side slightly, surprised by his question.

“Yes, why?”

“It’s nothing,” he says and then he pauses before he speaks up again as you’re about to walk away again. “Isn’t it hard? Worrying about everyone all the time?” You feel your cheeks heat as you shrug in a way that probably looks more like a grimace.

“I’m used to it.” You say simply before you walk back to your classroom.

A/N: I know that this one leaves off on a bit of a cliff hanger but it was a lot to try to jam into one chapter.

[milk-crafting]

Watching tumblr kill the quality on this even when it's not great in the first place is insane to me, but here we are

This is Rosin, a Lamia neonate who was embraced when she ran off to the woods (in Sequoia/King's Canyon National park because that's my fave hehe) in 1990. She was running away from a shitty relationship, planning on not coming back if you catch my drift, and was jump-scared by her sire-to-be. She fell down a cliff, hence all the scars, and her sire (who was an Autarkis and had planned on embracing her much more 'gently' than that) ran to the bottom to embrace her before she could bleed out.

Her sire, Beryl, lived in the national park with a Harbinger named Alessandro, staying in a couple different caves and old, long-abandoned cabins where the both of them could work on Allessandro's research away from the Camarilla and its political machinations.

Rosin would set out on her own after 20 years, and would join the Camarilla to find a sense of stability. She'd become a bodyguard for hire, a pit fighter, and an occult scholar. She's trained in Camarilla dueling, and uses a hunting knife that was a gift from her sire.

She's loyal to the Family first and the Camarilla second, and finds herself in San Diego currently, but she's bound to set off and travel somewhere else if the city doesn't have the purpose she's looking for in her unlife.

[yumr11]

Borussia Dortmund v San Diego Loyal SC - Pre-Season Friendly

[t8chno]

INCOMING  TEXT:    omg  hv  u  met JASMINE MSWELI of  the  RODANI PROWLERS  yet  ?  they’re  one  of  the  crew’s  import models  n  actually  go  by  DAIQUIRI.  the  twenty two  y/o  is  typically  seen  hanging  arnd 12welve.  allegedly  they’re  frm  san diego n  hv  been  w/  the  crew  for  1 YEAR.  wtvr.  just  watch  out  for  them,  k  ?  ttyl  !

STATISTICS

✱ … the basics.

full name : jasmine msweli nickname : daiquiri crew : rodani prowlers position : import model birthday : march 7 1984 age : twenty-two gender : cis woman pronouns : she/her orientation : bisexual

✱ … the appearance.

faceclaim : tyla seethal hair color : dark brown eye color : brown height : 5'7 piercings : nose stud, belly button ring tattoos : here , here & a small strawberry daiquiri on her wrist

✱ … the personality.

positive traits : intuitive, loyal, adaptable negative traits : secretive, envious, spiteful big three : pisces sun, taurus moon, libra rising

BACKGROUND

coming soon . . .

HCS

ringtone is : who's that girl? - eve

big flirt !!!! loves to tease and make people blushh

wears juicy girl by juicy couture

writes xo at the end of every conversation

spams you with nudge on msn if you're online and not answering her fast enough

12welve is like her home away from home, you would think she worked there

myspace profile song : more than a woman - aaliyah

carries her whole life in her juicy purse, if you need anything, she most likely has it in there

is not afraid of confrontation, if you come for her or any of rodani she will have smthn to say about it more tbd...

CHARACTER INSPO

jwoww : jersey shore - haley dunphy : modern family - jennifer check : jennifer's body - maddy perez : euphoria - selina kyle : the batman - maxine minx : x - tatum riley : scream - lola bunny : space jam - cece parekh : new girl - felicia hardy : marvel comics

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fandom Observation Funny tags: One Piece Warlord Crews & Other Antagonist

Due to character limits the funny tags post has had to be broken up into multiple parts

This post contains the tags for the other Warlord Crews and some miscellaneous antagonists that didn't fit neatly into any other category, like Caesar Clown and Arlong

Donquixote Pirates

Doflamingo: "Dofy's got some wierd (potentially fun) energy but he would NOT treat you well he'd be awful", "The psychopathic pimp on a shoestring budget. Seriously dude, San Diego Zoo called and they want their flamingos back. That coat is so last season.", "fashion travesty", "Doflamingo dresses like an eye test and will probably steal your credit card by the end of the night not because he needs the money. because he finds it hilarious", "Mingo is just a spoiled frat fuckboy who's too full of himself to be interested in anyone/anything else", "a balding white man", "evil florida man my beloved they dont understand you", "Budget Pimp who robbed San Diego of their world famous Flamingo flock"  “I am fucking wheezing, poor Doffy, good thing we're there to make him feel (laughing on the floor) king of the bedroom again🤣🤣🤣🤣” “Doffy has an unresolved Oedipus Complex... how obvious can you get? His mother died and he killed his father for failing to protect his family. Of course he wants an older lady who will take care of him but also tell him he's being a little attention-seeking brat.  take care” “You cannot tell me Doflamingo doesn't have mommy (affection/obsession) and daddy (loathing/hatred) issues.” “Fuckin Doffy 😍😍😍🤤🤤🤤” “Doffy would cry seeing how far ahead of him rosie is. Full on midlife crisis”

Trebol: “who the FUCK voted for trebol i just wanna talk for a minute”

Rosinante: "my insane clumsy tall dilf", "wife material", "he has cringefail dad swag", "rosi is everything to me actually. I would climb that tall clumsy king like a tree", "the klutzy mime", "he has that pathetic depressed clown vibe thats irresistible", "He's the epiome of strong but silent, he's the asshole with a heart of gold, he has everything", rosinante is hot tho and his clumsiness somehow enhances it", "I've said it before and I'll say it again I WOULD climb that clumsy king like a tall tree want to kiss him until his silly jester makeup is all over me too",“CORA MY LOSER MALEWIFE WIN” “Cora got a silly boi/man rizz, he is no one's turnoff it's all on 😁” “CORA YOU SAD CLOWN WIN” “ROSI I BELIEVE YOU CAN WIN THIS ONE#PLEASE MY LOSER WIFE HAS TO WIN” “cora is unironically so hot cora is the classy cunt server to doffys bad bitch cunt server he honestly eats that black coat and pink shirt combo he somehow makes that hat look good” “I mean Cora’s on fire far more often than” "I am loyal to the guy who actively sets himself on fire", Plus an entire mini fanfic someone wrote in a reblog of one of the polls about him link here

Thriller Bark Pirates

Perona: “my beautiful goth queen needs to prevail” “Weirdo goth girl Perona the map”

Other antagonists

Arlong: "Y'all are too afraid to recognize the truth too afraid of his drip, his swagger, his saw nose, to admit that he's hot also live action arlong?!?!the only sexy fishmen," "arlong looks like a toxic florida frat bro," "I legitimately think there's something wrong with me sometimes due to how bad I want arlong the rancid personality enhances the appeal", "yall are p****" arlong is sexy put some respect on his name look at those lips the laugh the hair!" “I said what I said he’s like wine better when he’s older” “everyone on this site is a COWARD monsterfuckers when the Arlong stans come out”

Alvida: “Live action Alvida would make me question my sexuality, if I didn't already know i'm bi.”

Caesar Clown: “He gives me insane gender envy” “The horns The eyes The hair That pale creamy skin with barely defaults and mark for a man of his age Skinny as i like Love his make up His laugh is so funny Fuck his devil fruit is so cool and so useful ( even in the bedroom) I want to cheer up that pathetic whimpering mess and hear him rambling about the most awful things in life He is smart and passionate So yeah, pretty much the ideal wife to me. Wdym Drug test on children and chemical warfare? Meeeeeeh i've done worse, i buy my clothes on Shein (jk)” “Half the reblog tags being fellow Caesar Clown truthers. There aren’t many of us, but we won’t shut up” “caesar solidarity give our piss baby a chance#<3” “voting for Caesar even though he is objectively not the hottest give him a chance” “HOW IS CAESAR SO FAR BEHIND ON THIS i don’t care what he did to those children he’s hot” “thank god caeser is annihilating that asshole FUCK HIM UP CLOWN BOY” “at least Caesar Clown is kind of serving cunt” “I can somehow overlook the horrible things Ceasar has done when placed next to the worst father in history” “CAESAR MY BELOVED BABYGIRL pepper sprays judge choke bitch thank fuck caesar is winning he'd be so pleased with himself and rub it in judge's face” “bad parenting is never hot but warcrimes sometimes can be caesar gets my vote”

[lara635kookie]

Red Crackle Week Day 5: Domestic Life (Headcanons)

• They do travel a lot

• But I imagine they would live in San Diego

• In a cozy apartment

• Gray cooks

• No questions asked

• Usually just dinner

• Because the other meals they don't normally are on their home

• Carmen can do the basics

• But she might cause a disaster on the kitchen

• So Gray handles it

• Just like he is the one that usually drives the car

• And Carmen drives the motorcycle

• In comparison, Carmen likes her things organized

• And Gray, he is a little more chaotic

• So they divide according to their strengths

• Sometimes they help the other

• But the only chore they actively do together is grocery shopping

• Which might take a while

• Because they can't exactly draw too much attention

• And maybe some little discussions here and there about what they really need to buy or not

• They order things on weekends, tho

• Gray would try to impress Carmen with his mexican and argentinean food

• Some recipes were more successful than others

• So always that it is a latam food

• They cook it together

• Doing latino food together is like their little tradition

• To just have a good quality time with each other

• So even though they can't do it as frequently as they would like

• They still enjoy it

• Usually on fridays, end of the month

• Idk why tbh, but Gray just passes me some huge dog person vibes

• Like, he doesn't hate cats

• But in comparison, I just feel he would like dogs more (maybe because he is a golden retrivier lmao)

• So they would have a little small/medium sized dog

• According to the rules of the building

• Who is probably full of middle-aged people that they barely interact with

• And they are good neighbors

• And their dog is a good pet

• It would probably be a very loving and loyal, trained male dog

• That they disagreed a lot on what to name it

• But to be cute, I think they would settle for "Wolf", or something similar

[aff1uent]

                 blasting   𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒂   𝒃𝒚   𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒆   through   their   airpods   is   𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐬   𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐧   .   oh   ,   you   don’t   know   them   ?   they’re   the   𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚   -   𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕   year   old   𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥   who   just   went   viral   for   𝒉𝒊𝒔   𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚   𝒕𝒐   𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏   ‘   𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔   ��𝒐𝒖𝒓   𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆   𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓   𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏   ?   ’   𝒂𝒕   𝒉𝒊𝒔   𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚’𝒔   𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚   𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕   .   yup   ,   the   one   that   drives   a   𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒊 𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒑𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒓   .   i   hear   they’re   pretty   𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔   ,   but   others   have   claimed   that   they’re   quite   𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥   .   that   makes   sense   ,   considering   they’re   often   labeled   as   𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇   𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓   .

───    visage    ⋆    interactions    ⋆    pinterest    .

⊹   𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻   .

        ·   full   name   ⸝⸝   lucas   eugene   carlsen   .         ·   nicknames   ⸝⸝   luke   .         ·   date   of   birth   ⸝⸝   june   28th   ,   1996   .         ·   age   ⸝⸝   twenty   -   eight   .         ·   place   of   birth   ⸝⸝   oslo   ,   norway   .         ·   gender   ⸝⸝   cis   man   .         ·   pronouns   ⸝⸝   he   /   him   .         ·   orientation   ⸝⸝   heterosexual   and   heteromantic   .         ·   nationality   ⸝⸝   norweigan   .         ·   ethnicity   ⸝⸝   he   is   just   a   white   man   .         ·   education   ⸝⸝   bachelor's   degree   in   marine   biology   from   uc   san   diego   .         ·   occupation   ⸝⸝   crown   prince   of   norway   and   marine   biologist   ,   frequently   going   viral   on   tiktok   for   educating   the   public   about   sea   animals   and   whatnot   .         ·   lingo   ⸝⸝   english   ,   norweigan   ,   french   ,   italian   ,   spanish   ,   japanese   ,   american   sign   language   .

⊹   𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂   .

        ·   father   ⸝⸝   king   lucas   iii   ,   seventy   ,   the   king   of   norway   .   they   have   a   boring   relationship   ,   his   dad   doesn't   know   how   to   socialize   .         ·   mother   ⸝⸝   queen   annette   ,   sixty   -   three   ,   the   queen   of   norway   as   the   wife   of   king   lucas   iii   ,   and   wedding   planner   .   overprotective   and   sometimes   cunning   .   lucas   loves   her   ,   but   loves   to   ignore   her   just   a   tad   bit   more   .         ·   siblings   ⸝⸝   three   older   sisters   ,   princesses   amelia   ,   freya   and   irene   .   amelia   ,   forty   -   two   ,   is   a   teacher   that   travels   abroad   and   is   the   heir   apparent   to   the   norweigan   throne   .   freya   ,   thirty   -   eight   ,   is   a   bridal   dress   designer   .   irene   ,   twenty   -   nine   ,   has   aspirations   to   marry   a   nfl   player   .         ·   children   ⸝⸝   none   .         ·   pets   ⸝⸝   a   cane   corso   named   obi   (   short   for   obi   -   wan   ,   of   course   !   )   ,   a   bloodhound   named   chewie   ,   and   two   ranchus   named   ed   and   dexter   .

⊹   𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝚃𝚈   .

        ·   zodiac   ⸝⸝   cancer   .         ·   alignment   ⸝⸝   true   neutral   .         ·   mbti   type   ⸝⸝   infp   .         ·   positive   traits   ⸝⸝   ingenious   ,   loyal   ,   caring   ,   sympathetic   .         ·   negative   traits   ⸝⸝   sardonic   ,   clumsy   ,   heedless   ,   deceptive   .         ·   tropes   ⸝⸝   digging   yourself   deeper   ,   book   smart   ,   deadpan   snarker   ,   the   dutiful   son   ,   lovable   nerd   ,   the   stoner   .         ·   hobbies   ⸝⸝   surfing   ,   swimming   ,   sailing   ,   anything   that   has   to   do   with   the   ocean   tbh   ,   reading   ,   star   wars   ,   marijuana   ,   snowboarding   ,   astronomy   ,   bartending   even   though   he’s   bad   at   it   ,   learning   new   languages   ,   campking   ,   biking   .         ·   character   inspiration   ⸝⸝   eric   forman   (   that   '70s   show   )   ,   prince   eric   (   the   little   mermaid   .   )

⊹   𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳   .

        ·   tldr   ,   he’s   an   ordinary   guy   who   happens   to   have   the   title   of   a   prince   .   he’s   not   very   flashy   with   the   luxuries   that   come   with   it   ,   and   he’s   a   huge   nerd   .   he   loves   comics   ,   star   wars   ,   wildlife   ,   the   ocean   ,   anything   to   do   with   nature   really   ,   and   he’s   more   interested   in   that   than   royalty   .   besides   ,   he’s   not   close   to   being   a   heir   to   the   throne   (   which   he’s   grateful   for   )   so   there’s   less   worries   on   his   plate   .   he   can   be   socially   awkward   like   his   dad   ,   but   he   can   be   a   charmer   with   the   ladies   ;   he’s   an   awful   romantic   ,   and   falls   pretty   easily   .   the   media   sees   this   as   him   being   a   manwhore   ,   but   he   just   likes   to   give   everyone   a   chance   …   he   has   bounced   back   and   forth   between   the   states   and   norway   ever   since   he   was   seventeen   for   school   ,   california   being   the   main   location   so   he’s   pretty   familiar   with   it   .   he   officially   moved   to   san   diego   for   college   ,   went   back   home   for   a   bit   then   returned   to   live   in   beverly   park   when   he   was   twenty   -   five   .   he   enjoys   the   ocean   life   more   in   the   los   angeles   area   ,   and   also   he   just   wants   to   step   away   from   the   royal   spotlight   .   though   usually   to   himself   ,   he’s   a   pretty   friendly   guy   .   doesn’t   like   to   pick   a   fight   physically   and   would   rather   bicker   through   sarcasm   .   he   smokes   weed   a   lot   ,   it’s   become   apart   of   his   daily   routine   ,   but   it’s   never   done   when   there’s   cameras   around   or   else   he’d   die   .   besides   that   ,   he’s   not   really   into   partying   ;   he   spends   a   lot   of   his   time   sailing   or   working   with   sea   life   ,   he’s   pretty   boring   .

⊹   𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈   .

        ·   he   is   probably   the   sweetest   guy   you’ll   know   .   his   heart   and   intentions   are   pure   ,   unless   if   you’re   just   a   real   jackass   .   he’s   not   afraid   to   call   people   out   ,   and   is   pretty   blunt   about   it   .   also   insanely   sarcastic   ,   and   believes   that   most   things   are   a   conspiracy   .

[handsblccdy]

CAMERON MILLER   :   is  the  twenty-seven  year  old  survivor  that  joined  the  crescent  apartments safezone  six months ago.  when  the  infected  swarmed  the  streets  the  first  night,  cammy  managed to survive  on their own because of how  quick-witted  +  resourceful  they  were.  however,  when they joined up with the group,  it  became  clear  just  how  blunt  +  mistrustful  they  are too.  now, they've  established  themselves  as  a  scavenger  within  the  group,  thriving  at  the  job  because  of  their  being good at finding things and her bow and arrow. 

full name: cameron marie miller nickname(s): cam, cammy pet name(s): cameleon (brother only) gender: female age: 27 sexual orientation: homosexual, homoromantic birthplace: san francisco, california occupation: scavenger

-         cameron was on a trip in san diego with her family when the outbreak happened, but the infection took her mother early on and she was forced to kill her father a few weeks later when he agreed to trade her and her younger brother to bandits to keep their supplies. from then on, it was just the two of them as they attempted to trek back home on foot after her brother lost the car keys. it had taken many weeks, but they finally managed to make it to san francisco in one piece. until they were separated by a horde of infected only a few days after arriving. it’s been a month since then, but cameron hasn’t stopped looking for her brother and returned to crescent apartment because it was her home before the outbreak. she's owned the apartment for six months but technically has only been home for a month.

-         despite living in crescent where she can have a permanent place to lay her head and food that’s within reach, cameron learned on the journey home that she prefers being on the outside and searching for whatever she needs to survive. she loves to challenge herself when she’s out there to push past her limits to prevent her from getting soft. she often leaves because of this and to continue searching for signs of her brother, which can keep her away from the community for days on end. however, she usually tries to return with places to scavenge or supplies to make up for her time away.

-         she doesn’t mind being around the infected and fears them much less than most humans. however, cameron’s aware that they’re extremely dangerous and does her best to avoid them as much as she can when she’s on the outside. she just feels that they’re truer to their nature and more predictable than humans are. since all they can do is kill her, she feels that’s a kinder fate than what she knows other humans do to each other.

-         cameron’s very independent and doesn’t like asking other people for help often. while she’ll do it if she absolutely must since she knows not everything can be done by herself, most times she prefers to deal with whatever problem she has on her own unless she absolutely trusts someone. however, she doesn’t let this get in the way when it comes to her job. she’s more than capable of working together with others if she needs too, whether on a supply run or helping around the apartment building.

-         she’s never seen without her dog, danger. he’s a large german shepard that she adopted a couple years ago, and he has been her loyal companion since then. with him being all she has left, cameron is very protective of him and only trusts those who have earned hers with him. these feelings are mutual for danger. he’s become far more aggressive towards strangers and won’t hesitate to attack if cameron is threatened. however, he’s very friendly, gentle, and lovable to familiar faces and those who cameron trusts. he also accompanies her on the outside, assisting her in finding her brother, killing infected, or finding new items on supply runs.

-         she tends to be blunt and finds sugarcoating the truth to be disrespectful as well as insulting. cameron prefers to be brutally honest with others and hopes they do the same since she believes honesty is the best policy. unfortunately, she doesn’t realize her words hurt sometimes because she’s still learning to readjust to socializing after all the trauma she’s suffered. most times she’ll have no problem apologizing if it’s brought to her attention that she’s hurt someone unless she feels they deserved it.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

her younger brother

people patient enough to get closer to her

someone(s) who earned her trust already

an eventual adopted family

[sportsguysfeet]

San Diego Loyal

[macravishedbymactavish]

Ghosts Characters (Logan)

Just me back with the writing tips & my views on the Ghosts characters.

| Blog HQ | Keegan | Merrick | Rorke |

Warning: Major campaign spoilers. Read at your own discretion

Logan Walker

Loyal to a fault. Resilient. Underestimated.

One could argue that Logan is both the easiest, and the toughest character to write for. He's an open ended sentence that includes a small amount of detail -- but that means everyone has a different view on who he is.

Spoiler: Logan is you; you are Logan.

The details we are given about him through his family, team and what we see campaign wise show that he's incredibly loyal, resilient and underestimated at first glance.

His loyalty shows through the strongest in the same way that Merrick's does - on the train with Hesh. While Logan is probably happy to see Rorke pay for all he's taken from them, he follows Hesh into battle without a second thought.

Then there is the story Elias tells in his Rorke File; the time he took his boys out to the beach and turned around to see only see 2 sets of footsteps including his own behind him. Because Logan was literally following in Hesh's footsteps.

The first time we meet Logan he's on patrol duty with Hesh and Riley. Then most of the following missions he's with his brother, or eventually Keegan. Or the end of Sin City when he's running through a firefight unarmed so he can carry Riley with them to safety.

Once Logan gets to know someone well enough, he's going to be one of the best friends, teammates and allies you could ask for. He's the type who's one phone call away.

Which, Logan reminds me a bit of Keegan in a sense. While Logan doesn't say anything in the campaign (ah yes, the era of silent playable protagonists), he gives me the same "quiet until we know one another. Then I won't shut up" vibes.

Logan is also very, very young. Like early 20s. So he's a young San Diego kid -- while canon to campaign his teenage years were in the midst of the ODIN fallout and war….him, Hesh and any other friend his age probably got into their fair share of trouble. 

His age (and lack of experience) also means he's underestimated initially. Keegan has a couple quotes that seem to explain this pretty well. Between "looks like Elias' training is paying off" to the iconic "damn kid, who taught you how to do that?" 

He's also proven to he resilient throughout the campaign.

From getting attacked by a wolf early on, to stabbed and caught in the fire burning down your base.

To continuing the fight directly after watching your father die in front of you. Logan has seen more than his fair share of tragedy and injury but continues fighting.

It's never been outright confirmed, but the ending of the game did hint toward Logan being captured and tortured in the same way that Rorke was.

Mentally, physically and emotionally they'll be aiming to break him and condition him into the Ghost Killer.

[heyimdove]

TW: climate change, wildfires, hurricanes, woe.

Sorry, I know you follow me for Good Omens stuff, but I’m freaking out.

San Diego doesn’t get hurricanes, but one, (a category 4???) is coming for us.

I’m a born and raised San Diegan and I can’t believe I’m typing this at all. But here we are, facing Hurricane Hilary and collectively holding our breath, wondering if we’ll be okay. Wondering what we’ll look like in a few hours.

I’m a worrier. I worry. I worry for our loud wonderful parrots who wake me up every day, and for our marine wildlife who I love with all my heart. I fear for our homeless community, who have already dealt with enough this year just existing, and who are too often children. I worry for the people who believe they’ll be okay, will make a bad decision or two, and prove themselves wrong.

It all makes me think of 2003.

For a week that October, it felt like the world was ending. The Cedar Fire, which was the biggest fire in California history (might still be) burned for a week. I was little.

We had never had snow days (the only snow we get out here comes in cone form), but suddenly white ash was falling like snow and school was canceled. This was the first revelation to me that we were really In It.

I remember sitting at the sliding glass door with my big sister, small feet pressed against the glass, as we watched the sky turn black from smoke and ash. I remember how you could only tell it was daytime because you could still see the sun behind the smoke. It was this ominous, dull red orb, like a dying ember, like Sauron’s eye, like God had abandoned us but stuck around to watch til the credits rolled. Even inside, we held wet washcloths over our noses and mouths so we wouldn’t inhale the ash that snuck into the house through cracks we didn’t know we had.

I remember my dad, crying and clutching the phone, as he begged my grandma to follow evacuation orders to leave their house. Grandpa didn’t want to go, so he stood on the roof with a garden hose, watching a wall of fire two blocks away as it ate trees and homes. He stood up there, spraying the roof like it would make any difference, while Grandma broke down and screamed for him to escape while they still could. Dad kept saying “leave him, Mom, leave him!”

I’ll be honest: that fucked me up.

Scripps Ranch, their part of town, has eucalyptus trees. They’re oily. They blow up when they catch fire. He only agreed to leave when he watched one explode a few houses away. My loyal, loving grandma didn’t leave him behind.

That taught me something strange about love that I haven’t been able to untangle since. I love my grandfather, but I never have forgiven him for what he put her through that day. What he prioritized under the black skies and white ash and red sun when people were dying. I wonder if he thinks he won, that he beat the fire, because their house didn’t burn in the end. I wonder if he thinks of himself as David and the fire Goliath, not realizing that his David was so small, Goliath hadn’t ever known he existed.

I hope so much that we don’t get more Davids this time around.

That people don’t hear about 19ft waves and grab their boards. Don’t drive their cars through the same place it always floods in Mission Valley, the same place people always end up drowning. Don’t try to save a house and lose a life instead.

That fire season was our worst, but fire response has improved so much since. Everyone said it was so bad because we hadn’t been prepared; now we do backburns, controlled burns, we’re better about campfire education. We’re safer now. We listen to evacuation orders. We have bug out bags and back up plans and binders where we keep our important documents. Aside from the occasional low-grade panic when I smell fire in the air that may be a barbecue, may not, I’m not really even afraid of wildfires now, only sad for the places impacted by them, like Hawaii and Canada. I find myself wondering what their sun looks like.

When I think back, I also remember how everyone came together to help. Firefighters from across the country and around the world came to help fight. Came to help us. It chokes me up as I write- especially when I think about the active fire maps and remember we only have so many firefighters.

I hope we don’t need backup this time. But I’m scared anyway.

Because we don’t have hurricane practice. This is new. The rain this year was new. The October-June winter was new. I’m scared this is is like 2003 and we’ve got a massive deadly natural event and no idea how to fight it. We didn’t build for this.

I hope this is just a dramatic response to what winds up being nothing. I was in Ireland during Hurricane Ophelia, and that was a bit of wild weather, but most people shrugged it off. I’m crossing fingers and everything else I can for an Ophelia situation.

To any San Diegans reading: don’t shoot the Hurricane.

But if it’s worse, then I just want to say I love my city. I love the way we held each other up in 2003 and 2007 and 2020-22. I hope we never have to again, but I’m grateful I have all of you if we do.

I just sandbagged around the house, covered the windows with blankets, filled the freezer with ice. Everything’s charging, my flashlights have batteries, and my bathtub is clean and full of water. I’m not religious, but I still said a little prayer for the fish in my pond and brought in the patio umbrella. I couldn’t catch the black cat that hangs out in my yard so I said a little prayer for her, too.

I hope I reblog this on Monday to tell you I’m a silly and melodramatic idiot, but today I’m scared. Climate change is real and something must be done. I’m sick of fires and floods and this self-fulfilling prophecy that the end is nigh.

We still have options. We have addresses (figuratively speaking). We know how to build the guillotines (figuratively speaking). We outnumber those who would have our streets flood and our homes burn for personal profit- and we can permanently separate them from it (figuratively speaking). And I am tired of speaking in codes about who our enemies are now that the planet is fighting back. I’m sick of having to say I’m figuratively speaking.