#Bobby felt lonely without you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bippot · 2 years

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Summary: When his old college pal inherits her grandmother's lake house, Bob is the first to nominate himself to help out. It gives him something to do and a chance to feel young, something that he only feels when he's in the sky.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, House Cleaning, Astronomy, Face-Sitting, Light Dom/sub, Slow Build, Caretaking, Idiots in Love

Song Recommendation: Every Summertime by NIKI

Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd Masterlist - here

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So many people had told Bob since he was a kid that he had an 'old soul', whatever the fuck that meant. Was it because he was on the quieter side? Or was it because he was thoughtful and kept things to himself, which was a vast difference from those he surrounded himself with? Honestly, Bob had no idea.

Even when he was younger he never felt young. Sure, he played with toys and had an imaginary friend when he was five, but by the time he was ten, he was sitting at the adult table at dinner parties. He never got in trouble for sneaking out after curfew or getting drunk with his friends before he was of age.

His father once told him, "Bobby, you and me, I feel like we're the same age." Bob was eighteen at the time and just about to move away for college. It didn't make sense to him - he was a young, strapping lad, why didn't a sense of youth enter his life?

That may be why he chose such a dangerous career. Youth goes hand in hand with adrenaline, and what's more adrenaline inducing than firing an arsenal of weapons from the backseat of a jet? So, yeah, that's as close as he got.

Throughout the years, he'd come to some conclusions:

1) Hangman has definitely been lying about the majority of his sexual encounters. Rooster, on the other hand, was not.

2) Most people have that sense of teenage giddiness when they're first in love. Bob did once have a girlfriend in the tail end of high school and he did like her. But, looking back, he didn't love her. He just didn't want to be seventeen and without a girlfriend.

And 3) He was lonely. And ever since his mama died, he didn't really have anyone to talk to about it anymore. None of his coworkers or friends would want to know, and Bob knew for a fact that he didn't want to tell them.

So when his very good friend Y/N inherited her estranged grandmother's lake house, Bob volunteered to help her redecorate. It would give him something to do during his time off and would force him to interact with another person. There was no way he'd spend all his day drinking beer and reading Steven King in his underwear if Y/N needed help.

"Ah, home sweet home." Y/N unlocked the front door and swung it open, gesturing for Bob to go in before her with a playful bow. "After you, my good fellow."

"Why thank you, fairest maiden."

They entered, both surveying the house room by room to come up with a plan of what to do. Y/N had already begun making a mental list of all the things that needed to be replaced, and how much it was going to cost. Bob, however, was more focused on how picturesque the view of the lake was from her living room.

"Woah."

By the look of it Y/N was too preoccupied to notice so Bob stretched out and grasped onto her biceps, dragging her in front of where he was stood and tilting her chin in an effort to force her to take some time to bask in the sight of the water crashing over the rocks outside her window. She was so stunned that she could only stare silently at the slow current of the lake and didn't notice how Bob was gently rubbing his hands up and down her arms. It was an unconscious action, his focus entirely still on the beauty outside the window and not on the beauty in his arms.

"Now that would be a great painting," he finally said softly, breaking the silence of their quiet moment.

"I can't even think of art with all this house shit I've got to do."

"We've. We've got to do," he corrected gently. He released her arm and took a step back, giving himself space to continue taking stock of all the heavy and seriously outdated furniture they'd have to carry out of there. There was no doubting that the puke yellow coloured couch would be one of the first things to go.

Room by room, the pair checked out the house. Structurally, it looked sound to the untrained eye. Aesthetically, not so good. It was clear that the style hadn't been updated since the sixties. And, it seemed that Y/N's grandmother had been a fan of awfully gauche animal prints. "That was certainly a choice." She reached out to pick at part of the faded tiger print wallpaper in the master bedroom. "If there's a mirror on the ceiling, I'm going to freak. Bo, tell me there's not a mirror."

He glanced upwards.

"Nope. But, there is a huge spider."

Even the bathroom was less than fashionable and came with one of those awful furry toilet seat covers. Y/N almost gagged just looking at it. There was no chance that was staying. Not that he needed to say it out loud, but Bob declared, "This is going to be a lot of work," just to make it official. Y/N couldn't disagree if she wanted to, not only because it was Bob and it was hard to argue with that cute face, but because he was completely and utterly correct.

Day one was spent binning anything simple and useless - including the aforementioned toilet seat cover and the mass amount of letters that had accumulated by the front door - and brainstorming about what the hell the house should look like. As it turned out, it wasn't as easy as they'd originally thought.

A lot of their time involved scrolling through Pinterest. The moment one of them saw something that could work, they showed the other what they thought were acceptable colours or styles. Once they both agreed, it was saved.

"What time is it?"

Despite having their phone screens right in front of their faces, Bob glanced down at his watch. "Nine twenty-four."

And then he was unable to stop his stomach from rumbling. Shit. They'd skipped right past dinner and, as per usual, Bob whined for Chinese food. Y/N, as always, gave in. The main reason why was because there was no food in the house. It also possibly could be the fact that Bob would always order something different every time and forget that he's a complete baby when it comes to anything spicy. When he said the words 'szechuan chicken', she made sure to add a meal he'd like better and a bunch of drinks to a new order.

Yet, she didn't tell him. Where's the fun in that?

"Food arriving at twenty-two hundred hours, lieutenant. Permission to see if that old ass TV is still operational?" Y/N joked, referring to the chunky old school hunk of a thing on the coffee table.

"Permission granted."

He grinned, watching as she crouched behind the TV to get a better look, giving him the perfect opportunity to totally not check out her ass. Okay, maybe he did check it out once. Or twice. Or three times. Whatever, maybe it was more than three.

After pushing the plug in the socket once she'd finally found out where the hell it was, Y/N pressed the on button. Nope. She grabbed the remote and gave it a few pokes. Nothing either. It was a bust. "We've got a dud on our hands."

"I've got a couple of episodes of The Great British Bake Off download on my phone. We could always watch that?"

"That is the most on brand thing you've ever said."

Propping up his phone with as many cooking books he could find and one copy of 27 Dresses on the coffee table, Bob huddled closer to Y/N so they'd both be able to see the screen. Although he had a big and fancy phone (that had the text size absolutely huge so he'd be able to see whatever popped up on the screen without even needing his glasses on), the screen was not ideal. They had to sit quite closely together to make it work. Neither of them complained about that.

"Look, the height of luxury!"

"Shut it, Floyd."

On the dot, the food arrived and they were quick to dig in. And the drink order came minutes later. The second Bob brought his meal to his tongue, the heat had already begun to fill his mouth. This shit was spicy! "Holy Fu-ck. Ah! Ah! Hot. Very, very... ahhhj," he cried, his face already flushing.

He stuck his tongue out in a way that was very obviously trying to cool himself down and had Y/N giggling at him. That was when he put the chopsticks down and waved in an effort to force cold air to his mouth. It didn't help. Not one bit. Then came the tears streaming down his face. "It gets worse when I breathe! Should I stop breathing altogether?" Bob hiccuped, and she knew this was the time to offer him relief. Any more suffering would be cruel on her part.

"Milk?" she asked as she reached into the drinks bag and retrieved a bottle of milk. She handed it to Bob, who immediately opened it and downed half in one gulp, leaving the bottle resting against his lips while his head rested against the back of the sofa. He let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like one of relief.

"Oh my God." His eyes were wide, almost comically so. "I think my tongue passed out for a minute."

Y/N laughed and her hand shot to grab him a napkin. With a gentle smile, she dabbed away at the remaining moisture around his face. He continued to look at her, his face not changing as he kept staring at the soft way she handled him. The little smile never left her lips and he could swear that he swore that it grew bigger the longer he watched her, which caused his own smile to grow wider until they matched.

"You knew it was that spicy and let me eat it anyway?"

"Maybe..." He nudged her in the arm with his elbow. "Maybe I knew that Kenny is coming tomorrow to check out the electrics and he's a fan of spicy stuff."

With that, she brought out the chow mein she'd bought for this exact moment and placed it on his lap, smiling smugly as he ate it without batting an eye. And, most importantly, without acting like a little bitch about it. The pair continued the meal, occasionally talking about anything they could think of. Their banter flowed easily between them as it had since they met in college.

"All I'm saying is that I'd be great on this show."

"You? The same Robert Floyd that once put ramen in the microwave a) still in the plastic and b) for half an hour?"

"I was a boy back then, now I'm a man," he declared, pointing his chopsticks at her accusingly.

She poked him in the chest. "Just because you've got bigger muscles, doesn't make you a man," she teased, poking him again just because she could. One because it was annoying, and two because she could feel how firm his chest was under her finger.

Bob caught her hand before it jabbed him again. "Stop that," he ordered playfully, though there was no bite to his voice as the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in amusement. She tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his grip tightened around her wrist. "Say I'm a man and I'll let go."

"Never."

Casually, he swapped which hand was holding hers so he could continue eating whilst restraining her. He wasn't rough or nor was it particularly gentle either; he just wanted to keep that sweet little pout on her face as she had to use her non-dominant hand to use her chopsticks, which seemed to be an arduous task. He didn't seem to mind watching her struggle though. If anything, he was enjoying it. It was payback for not telling him that his food was going to be spicy. It's not as if it was affecting his chopstick movement at all and that's why he finished his food long before her.

"You could just give in, you know?" he mused out loud. "Tell me that I'm a man and I'll let you have your hand back. Easy peasy lemon squeezy."

"Are you suggesting I surrender?" She raised her eyebrows. "Do you want me to surrender, lieutenant?"

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that he couldn't ignore and suddenly he wondered if that's why he liked this girl so much. Maybe it was because of that playfulness she always displayed that always made him feel slightly like a dope. In fact, he really was beginning to wonder just how he felt about her.

And yet, there he was, sitting there with a silly grin on his face and feeling like an idiot as he watched Y/N's expression turn from playful to serious in a matter of seconds, the playfulness retreating and in its place being replaced by something more akin to determination as she tried to shove a bunch of noodles in her mouth.

"Here, let me." Before she could complain, Bob snatched the chopsticks from her hand and picked up her food for her, holding it in front of her lips until she opened her mouth to let him feed her. "You could just say those magic words?"

"Maybe I like being fed like I'm some lazy sultan and you're my obedient bitch boy."

He shook his head in amusement, accepting that statement as truth since she seemed to willingly allow him to continue without argument. He fed her another piece of food, and another, and another. They went back and forth like this until she was stuffed. "Thanks Bobby. I guess you, as a twenty-nine year old human male, could be classified as a man," Y/N finally admitted as she pulled the empty bowl away from him and set it aside on the coffee table, leaving his lap free for her head to rest against his thighs.

Bob looked down to the hair tickling his skin just under where his shorts ended and sighed happily at the feeling. At first, he rested his hand on her shoulder and gave a light squeeze, then slowly his thumb started tracing small circles on her skin, causing her to close her eyes, sigh contently, and snuggle closer to him. What was that feeling? Was it the giddiness he yearned for? Or was it just the excitement of hanging out with a friend? Whatever it was, it seemed almost too good to be true. As if he were dreaming. As if he should wake up and realise that this was all just some bizarre domestic fantasy that he had to wake up from and find himself alone in his bunk. Or maybe he was dying and this was his brain's final attempt at bringing him some happiness.

To test out if this was real or not, Bob gently took a strand or two of her hair and held it closer to examine the detail of his supposed dream. That was far too intricate for his imagination to come up with. He chuckled, a sound full of warmth that made Y/N open her eyes and look up at him, confused. "Are you checking me for split ends?" she asked, trying to read his features carefully.

"Something like that."

This wasn't a dream, he knew that now. Yet, it felt almost too good when he let his hand rake through her hair. It was silky smooth. Soft, warm. Y/N closed her eyes once again, enjoying the attention to which she had been subjected to. Her face heated up at his touch, but it wasn't an uncomfortable heat, quite the opposite. Rather, she found herself relaxing against him. His fingers continued their quest, gently brushing over every inch of her hair while he spoke to her, telling her about everything and nothing just like usual, but something changed within her and a smile graced her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

That day would become a cherished memory within his life. For it would forever change their friendship in a positive manner, before either of them knew it. And as they lay tangled, both sleeping soundly as if none of it mattered, Bob felt like a lovesick teenage boy for the first time in his life.

Day two of renovations was spent stuffing all the moving boxes in the spare room so there would be space to plan out the layouts of the more important sections of the house. The walls and gross faded cabinets would need to be painted, some furniture and curtains needed to be ordered, and, as their buddy Kenny said, "This will be a bitch to rewire, but I'll do it." Then he was handed Bob's szechuan chicken and exited the house happier than he arrived.

It seemed that redecorating a house was a lot of waiting patiently as Y/N's father had insisted that she get actual professionals to check out the structure before they wasted money on the wiring, which was a good idea considering the state of the place already. Once the roof and attic and foundations had been checked, it was more than a month in.

"Bobby, you don't have to wait around with me. Don't you want to sleep in the comfort of your own bed? You'll be bored out of your mind here."

Well, the truth of the matter was that Bob liked falling asleep on the couch with her every night. They often talked in hushed tones in the early hours of morning, talking at a normal volume was far too loud for their tired ears, and he would be a fool to give that up. "What am I going to do back in my apartment? That's right, mope about until my new mission, so I might as well just hang around here to annoy you."

Something in him forced his hands out to squish her against his chest and he wrapped one arm around her waist so he could pull her closer to him as she tried to wriggle out of his hold. "You're not going to get away from me that easily," he teased, pinching her side lightly to make her giggle. Obviously, there was no escaping. Not that she wanted to escape, anyways. Giving in quicker than she'd have liked to, Y/N relaxed into his embrace and leaned her head against his shoulder, taking in his scent, his warmth, and his company.

"All done, Miss L/N," the surveyor said, walking in on their moment. After giving him a friendly pat on the peck, Y/N stepped back from Bob to deal with whatever payment or paperwork she needed to do.

Once all the checking had finally been completed, they could get to the fun stuff - the decorating and furnishing - and they were eager to get to work.

"Hand me the screwdriver, darlin'."

"Say please."

He rolled his eyes, but did as she said with a sweet "Please. Pretty please" and was rewarded with the screwdriver being held out to him. He accepted it with thanks and proceeded to pop open the paint can. "Come on, I'm not doing this all by myself. Pick up that paintbrush."

"Give me a sec," she retorted, pulling the hair band off her wrist to tie up her hair.

It shouldn't have been so fascinating to Bob, watching with fascination as she gathered up her hair in her right fist and started tying it with her left, but it was. There was something entrancing about it. Something captivating. He wanted to keep looking at her, at her hands working so deftly against her scalp, the way her tongue peeked out and her brows creased in concentration. So focused. So determined.

"Ready?" She asked, snapping him out of his daydream as she looked up at him from below her lashes and smiled.

"Me? I've been waiting for you."

So they got on with the painting, the radio playing softly in the background as the rest of the world fell away and allowed the sounds of their brushes against the paint on the canvas to fill the air. Every now and then, they glanced at each other and grinned like idiots, their smiles so wide and happy that their faces hurt.

"Love this song!" Bob exclaimed, breaking the silence as he turned the music up louder and put his whole body to it. His movements were so goofy and so uncoordinated that it didn't take long for Y/N to start laughing at his silliness.

Normally, Bob would keep himself to s rhythmic head bop or casual shoulder wiggle when he was at the Hard Deck with his buddy's. But when it came to Y/N, he became a mess of crazy, stupid dance moves that he did for her, did only to make her laugh harder. His hips swayed side to side as he made a complete mess of the wall, flicking paint onto it with dramatic flourishes and sweeping his arms across to create wild shapes that resembled ink blots.

"You're just going to watch me, missy? Or are you going to join me?" he asked, holding his hand out, palm up for her to grab on to. When she did, he took the paintbrush from her hand and placed it with his on the tray by his foot, allowing all of their hands to be free and free to move as they pleased. Y/N grabbed onto his shoulder to steady herself against his swaying body and placed her hand over the top of his, their bodies pressed together tightly as they danced like they were in a sappy high school rom com. The Frankie Valli tune accompanying them was the icing on the cliche cake.

Bob laughed and began to hum along to the song, his voice low and quiet as he sang it. Their embrace started off as silly, awkward and even clumsy. But soon it evolved into something much more intimate and slow paced. Soon they were both dancing close enough together to feel the other's heartbeats and the heat radiating between them.

"You're so warm," Y/N stated, completely relaxed as she placed her cheek against his shoulder. "And soft." The words were spoken barely above a whisper, but they lingered in his ear, stirring something within his chest and making his breathing falter. He stopped swaying suddenly and stared straight ahead at the paint on the wall, not daring to turn and look at her, yet his grip tightened on her, though, as he pulled her tighter into his chest.

They continued to hold each other long past the ending of the song, for what seemed like an eternity. Just enjoying each other's presence without saying a word and not wanting to break the serene atmosphere surrounding them.

Eventually, he blurted out, "My next mission is in two weeks. I got the call yesterday."

"How long?"

"Five and a half months."

She didn't respond immediately, but reared back slowly to study him for any reaction. She could tell instantly that he was nervous, well, because he always was. His fingers were twitching where they rested on her waist. "You better come back to me in one piece." Her tone was gentle as she reached up to cradle his face in her palms, stroking his cheeks with her thumb gently. "One big, dorky, loveable piece. You hear?"

The seriousness in her voice made him pause and swallow hard as he struggled for the words. Words that would make her understand how much that meant to him and how badly he wanted to come home to her, but only managed to say, "I will... I promise," instead.

And, as a final bit of affection, she stood on her tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning back towards the paint to carry on with their task, leaving a dumbstruck Bob behind her. He took a second to compose himself before he picked up the paintbrush with a sigh, knowing for a fact he'd do everything in his power to make sure no slip ups happened during the mission.

However, some things cannot be controlled. A bird strike was never something Bob could've ever planned. Luckily, he and Phoenix survived, but neither of them got away without a litany of deep purple bruises that didn't fade before they were allowed to go back home. The second she saw Bob's car pull up on her drive in the later hours of the evening, she threw open the front door and exclaimed, "Get in here, you dork!"

He chuckled under his breath while making his way to her and wrapping her up in a tight hug which she returned instantly, almost squeezing the life out of him. His ejection bruises were still tender so he couldn't help but wince and she noticed. Of course she noticed.

"Jacket off."

When he hesitated, Y/N unzipped the front of his jacket and slid it down his arms until it hit the floor. They were over his arms and, judging how one peaked out from the neckline of his shirt, she assumed they were across his chest too. "Rest on the sofa while I run you a bath," she instructed, already pulling away from him and starting toward her bathroom. He followed after her, trying and failing to hide the pout forming on his lips.

"Y/N, I'm fine. I really am fine, okay?" Bob called to her, stopping her dead in her tracks. "It doesn't hurt anymore. You don't need to take care of me."

All she said was, "I want to take care of you," and, boy, did that make him feel like sobbing right then and there.

Giddiness. There it was. As clear as day. And if anything, it was stronger than ever. It was like someone had pumped helium into his veins and he felt lightheaded and giddy and so full and so… happy. He was grinning like an idiot and he knew it. "Yeah, uh yeah, some relaxing does sound really good right now," he replied, trying and failing to sound normal and cool.

"Bobby, sit down. Take off your shoes."

She was smiling, her dimples showing, and God, he loved those dimples so much. They always made him melt inside and think that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be all bad to spend every waking moment for the rest of his life with Y/N and have that smile directed at him.

"Yes ma'am." And with a mock salute, he kicked his shoes off and dropped onto the sofa. A new sofa that he'd never seen before. "Where's the gross couch?"

From inside the bathroom, Y/N snorted. "Sold it on Craigslist. Bought another one then found one of those stretchy cover things on Amazon because I only shop at the most indie and reputable companies on the globe," she joked as she leant down to turn the tap on.

"Ah, Bezos thanks you."

He stretched out his legs as best he could with aching muscles, a groan escaping as the tension drained from his body. He let his eyes wander around his surroundings, taking in all the furniture and paintings, the windowsills overflowing with random knick knacks Y/N had bought from thrift stores or stuff she'd hoarded over the years, and plants growing everywhere. "You've got this place looking nice. Very green and bright and all," he commented casually, looking all around. Hell, he'd lived in his apartment for years and it never looked this good. It was so different. So peaceful. So homey. He loved it.

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"You really like it?" Her voice sounded a little hesitant as she leaned against the doorway of her bathroom, waiting for his reply. But Bob was too busy admiring her home to notice she was standing there, completely beaming at how he looked in the lamplight.

Often when he left, she forgot how broad he was, how tall, how muscular, how handsome he was. Something about how gentle and soft spoken made her forget everything he could possibly be capable of being a sexy, nerdy, muscly man. Because he was all of those things - and more.

"I love it," he replied, nodding. "Makes me want to force you to let me move in."

"Well, I won't say no to that."

One second he looked up and she was by the door, the next she'd slipped inside to add a bath bomb and light some candles to guarantee he was going to he as zen as possible. And then a few moments after that, she emerged and dragged him by the hand towards the bathroom. "Use anything you want. Towels are here. And what would you prefer, a reheated stuffed pepper or something more of the delivered variety?"

"You don't-"

"Robert."

"Right. You want to." She raised her eyebrow, urging him to make his mind up. "The pepper please."

"I'm glad I'm finally getting through to you," she teased lightly, before leaving him to his bath. His eyes stayed glued to the door until she disappeared from sight, the sounds of he'd humming heard through the walls. He smiled and shook his head; it hadn't escaped his attention how comfortable and domestic the whole situation was between them.

This? This he was absolutely loving. It was crazy. Crazy ridiculous. He had thought people had lied about the whole butterflies in your tummy thing, but now he understood. Now, he knew exactly what it felt like. He could feel it whenever she looked at him, when her touch sent shivers running down his spine; he was hooked. Like a drug addict hooked on the sweet feeling of happiness that came with being close to her.

Wrapped in only a towel, Bob opened the door and padded barefoot out to join her in the kitchen, sitting up on the counter as she scrolled through Instagram and metaphorically had to pick her jaw off the floor when her eyes drifted up to catch sight of him. His hair was dripping droplets of water all over her hardwood floor, his body glistening in the light coming from the kitchen.

The sight almost took her breath away but she quickly snapped herself back into reality by the time he'd given her a sheepish smile. "Do you still have the extra clothes I left here?" He asked, pointing vaguely in the direction of where he'd stashed them last time he visited.

"If I lie and say no, will you walk around like this forever?" she blurted out without thinking, earning a scoff from him in response.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because you're hot, Bobby. Fuck, that -" She gestured in the general direction of his abs. "That is a romance novel worthy."

To say his cheeks were red was an understatement. He looked away from her, not wanting her to see the blush spreading all up to his ears, even though his chest told her how much that compliment had affected him. But then she laughed. It started small, like she wanted to suppress it but couldn't control herself, which only resulted in both of them letting free the giggles and laughter flowing throughout the kitchen.

At some point, he got closer and held onto the counter on either side of her, leaning down to rest his forehead against her shoulder as they tittered away together. Eventually, they pulled away from each other, breathing a bit heavy and trying to calm themselves.

"This might sound weird - and if it makes you uncomfortable, please say - can I touch your abs?" she suddenly asked, her gaze locked with his, her words almost shy and cautious. He nodded eagerly in response, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I've always wondered what abs feel like."

Without further ado, Y/N gently reached forward, her hands skimming along his stomach and languidly tracing the dips and valleys with her fingertips, eliciting a soft moan from his mouth. "Is this alright?" she whispered, looking at him, searching his expression for any kind of discomfort.

"It feels nice," he murmured with half lidded eyes and a soft smile gracing his lips. Her fingers continued their exploration, her touch gentle and unknowingly teasing as she was as delicate as possible due to his bruising. Bob closed his eyes, enjoying every single second and revelling in his current state of undress with Y/N. It wasn't often that he got to experience something as simple and innocent as her touching him in such a tender manner.

Her fingers trailed upwards towards his pecs, then over his shoulder so she could wrap her arms around them and give him a hug. As she slid off the counter, she confessed, "I missed you, Bobby," and rested her cheek against his warm skin, her nose brushing against the exposed flesh of his neck.

"We facetimed every day."

"Still missed you."

"I missed you more." He wrapped his strong arms around her waist, squeezing tightly.

A few minutes went by. Maybe longer. Or maybe shorter, depending on how you looked at it. Time meant nothing now. All that mattered was them, right here, right now. The warmth of Y/N pressed against him, the scent of her coconut shampoo in his hair, the feeling of her hand stroking up and down his back in slow, soothing motions. And he just let himself get lost in the giddiness. In that perfect moment, when all he could hear were her quiet mumblings and feel her soft skin, it felt like nothing else existed except for the two of them. Just them. Their little bubble, surrounded by the complete mess of her half renovated kitchen with its mismatched chairs and cabinets and appliances that didn't match at all.

Hugging a mostly naked Bob was not something Y/N expected to happen when she woke up that morning, but somehow here she was, holding him and resting against his bare chest whilst his hand was firmly resting on her hip. It felt natural and familiar. Not at all awkward or out of the blue like it probably should have.

"Sorry, I'll get your bag now." She reluctantly stepped away from him, her heart thudding loudly at the loss of contact. Still, she joked, "I'm surprised your towel hasn't fallen yet."

"I used one of those hair clip things to keep it in place."

"You're a genius. So smart." She winked at him while making her way towards her bedroom where his backpack sat on the corner of her room. In no time, she'd returned and held it out to him. "If you're looking for your hoodie, I may have worn it when it got particularly cold in the night and washed it. Now it smells like my detergent."

Now, Y/N did have hoodies of her own. Yet, something about men's clothing is way more comfortable. Well, that's the reason she claimed in her head. But in reality? She didn't lie when she admitted to missing Bob and his clothes smelt like he was still next to her.

"You wore my clothes?" He looked a little stunned, blinking slowly in disbelief and amusement as she nodded. He smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly before reaching out to take the bag from her grip and began searching through it.

Once he found the neatly folded hoodie in question, he held it out to her. "If you get cold tonight," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers. "Don't argue with me, just take it."

As soon as it was in her hands, he dipped back into the bathroom to dress. As he dressed, he found it difficult to contain his grin, especially when his thoughts kept forcing him to imagine her in his jumper, the sleeves slipping down over her fingers and the hood falling in front of her eyes because it was so big on her frame. Imagining was one thing, seeing her like that was another. When he returned to the kitchen, she had slipped it on and was in the process of reheating his food.

"Apparently Cassiopeia can be seen very clearly tonight, can we have a look?" She asked as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

Bob wanted to speak. He wanted to say, "Yeah, would love to. That sounds great, darlin'." But, he couldn't find the courage to. He was rendered speechless. Instead, he just gave her a nod as a reply, his mind buzzing with thoughts of her and the beautiful picture she presented before him. She looked absolutely stunning with his grey hoodie hanging loosely from her shoulders and her hair framing her face perfectly. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to not lean across the kitchen island and capture her lips in a kiss.

When she sat down next to him, a smile still lingering on his face, it was evident that she had caught his reaction. "Something on your mind?" She asked.

"No," he answered hastily, trying to shake off any remnants of her spell. She studied his face for a long moment, waiting until he met her stare. And when he finally did, she gave him a soft, comforting smile. "What the heck is Cassiopeia?"

"A constellation." She let out a chuckle. "I thought a man of the sky, such as yourself, would have known that."

"Robert Floyd, man of the sky. I like that," he teased with a slight chuckle, causing her to laugh again.

Then it was onto star gazing. Y/N found the Big Dipper then the North star then, bang, Cassiopeia the Queen. To aid Bob, she tilted his chin and pointed it out for him to see. "Right there. See that W shape?"

He watched intently, trying hard to focus despite his distracted mind. Then she said, "This one?" and pointed at the Big Dipper with a flourish.

"Not quite."

She gently placed her hand on his wrist to point it in the correct direction and he let her do it without complaint. His eyes remained focused on her hand on his wrist, the gentle pressure sending electricity up his arm and into his brain, making him lightheaded for a few moments. "See it now?" She was watching him carefully, her eyes sparkling with amusement as he moved his gaze back to the stars.

After he regained some of his composure, he replied softly, "Yeah." The stars were particularly clear that day. "What's the story behind it?"

"Do you want the long or short version?"

"Long version."

Chuckling, she began the tale. "Good ol' Cas was once the Queen of Ethiopia and she was a vain lady. The god Poseidon heard that she was running her mouth about her daughter, Andromeda - she's there -" She tilted his head again, just as she would after mentioning the name of each constellation that came up and traced the shape in the air to help him out. "The queen claimed that her daughter was more beautiful than the Nereids and Poseidon wasn't happy about that."

Nerding out was one of Bob's favourite things to do, especially when the other person was clearly very knowledgeable and passionate about the topic they were discussing - that's how he got along so well with Mickey and his Star Trek word vomit when they had to share a bunk. Y/N's voice grew even softer as she continued the tale, her eyes glistening brightly as she spoke.

"To punish her, Poseidon sent a monster called Cetus - he's over there just under Pisces - to destroy the kingdom of her husband, King Cepheus - and he's over here." She pointed to the splattering of stars right beside Cassiopeia. "They're right beside each other for eternity, which is sweet."

A breeze blew past and Bob had to admit, he was feeling a little chilly. So, due to the age-old comfort between them, he decided that pulling her closer to him 'for warmth and only for warmth' and sticking his hands in the hoodie pocket, was reasonable. It was. It was beyond reasonable.

"Want me to give your hoodie back?"

"No. Continue with the story."

Chuckling quietly under her breath, she leaned back into him and proceeded with her story. "In order to appease Poseidon, the King and Queen had to sacrifice Andromeda. They chained her to a rock and left her out for the monster to devour her."

"And I used to get annoyed at my mama for leaving my bedroom door open," Bob joked, earning a hearty laugh from her. It was weird, Bob never spoke of his mother much nowadays.

After she died, it seemed too much like opening a wound he wasn't sure if he could ever fully close again. This was progress.

"Luckily for Andromeda, the hero Perseus -"

"Where's he?"

"To the left of Andromeda."

This time she hadn't guided his gaze, so he did an exaggerated squint to imply that he needed some help. She obliged with an almost shy smile.

"Perseus rescued her before she could be stuffed down the monster's gullet with his fancy-schmancy sword. He'd just slain Medusa, you see, and happened to be riding by on his pegasus. Just one look, that's all it took, and he was in love." She giggled, her cheeks tinged a slight pink colour. "Their wedding wasn't the most traditional one out there as one of Andromeda's old suitors - who was her uncle - arrived and tried to start a fight, but Percy used Medusa's head to turn him to stone."

Bob couldn't help but ask, "Like in that Percy Jackson movie?"

"Where'd you think Rick Riordan got his stories from?"

He rested his chin atop her shoulder and grinned to himself. "How does it end?"

"Cassiopeia was punished. Poseidon chained her to her throne and cast her into the heavens, but to be cruel he positioned her upside-down down so she'd have to run the risk of falling out of the sky for as long as there is a sky."

"And Andromeda?"

"She lived happily ever after with her husband."

It was quiet for a while after she finished speaking, both of them staring into space, lost in their own worlds. Well, Y/N was busy looking at the stars. Bob kept his eyes trained on her, unable to stop himself from smiling at the way her hair swayed slightly whenever the wind blew, and her eyes shone with wonderment whenever she gazed up at them.

"Would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Hmm...?"

"A happily ever after," Bob clarified with a shrug, suddenly feeling rather stupid for saying it like that. In his mind, he was being so obvious. Still, he wasn't quite ready to admit how he felt yet; so, he went on, "With, uh, someone, anyone who'll have me."

Her attention immediately snapped from the sky and she turned to face him, her eyebrows rising at his choice of words. "Anyone? Bobby, a man like you should have standards. You don't just go around throwing your hat into the ring and hoping for the best, do you?" She teased.

Oh boy. That sounded like something his Mama would have said to him, though it didn't sound nearly as patronising coming from Y/N's mouth. Not to mention, that last part sounded a lot more sassy than what his Mama would have said. It was a dangerous game, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Oh, I stopped throwing my hat into the ring years ago."

"Your love life that bad?"

"All I do is work and hang out with you."

Oh.

Just then, another cold gust of wind hit them and she shivered, curling into his side to try and shield him from its icy touch. "Shit! You must be freezing! Let's go back inside," Y/N announced as she interlinked her fingers into his and pulled him inside before they caught pneumonia. "Sit! Sit! I'll go and get my blanket so we can regain our body heat. Can't have you catching something!"

Yeah, he could definitely imagine having a happily ever after with her. Hell, she already made it impossible for him to forget how he felt, how warm she always felt to him. But, he shook those thoughts from his head and allowed her to pull him towards the couch before she rushed up to her room, returning less than a minute later with her arms full of the thick fleece blanket she used to wrap up in during winter.

Snuggled together as soon as she sat down, she draped the blanket over them, keeping them both cocooned in its soft embrace. Y/N rested her head against Bob's chest, listening to his heart beat, his chest moving up and down slowly and rhythmically beneath her cheek. He smelled good, she realised, like freshly washed linen, soap, sandalwood and mint.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you feeling okay?"

Other than the bruises, nothing else was wrong.

"I'm fine. Why?"

"Your heart is beating really fast."

"Oh, that always happens when I'm around you."

Shit. Her eyes widened at the admission as she lifted her head slightly to look at his face. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted in embarrassment as he realised what he'd admitted, and he refused to meet her eyes. She could see the tip of his ears burning red and she chuckled, her smile growing bigger by the second as it finally dawned on her.

It was difficult to form coherent words when his brain was malfunctioning. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't find the right words, not when she looked at him like that so his hand came to cradle her cheek, tenderly brushing away some stray hairs that had fallen across her face. He brushed the strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on the skin there and he watched the way her features softened at his touch.

Slowly and so very carefully, as if scared that he might break, he leaned forward and captured her lips in his. The kiss was chaste, gentle and innocent, but it still had a certain electricity buzzing through their bodies that caused sparks to fly wherever their mouths touched. He moved his hand downwards to rest on the side of her neck, tilting her chin with his thumb to deepen the kiss.

When they separated, the kiss still lingering, they stared into each other's eyes for several moments in comfortable silence before bursting out laughing at the same time. Neither of them were exactly sure where the laughter started or ended, or even how they got there, but they couldn't care less either.

Now that it was out in the open, both of them felt relief rush through their veins. It felt like an enormous weight off their chests had been lifted. Not physically as Y/N was guided onto Bob's lap, her knees placed either side of his waist, and happily buried her face in the crook of his neck. His arms encircled her frame tightly, holding her impossibly closer to him. The butterflies in his stomach stirred once more, but this time they were different - it felt more... right somehow? As if he was meant to hold her. "We should do that more often," Bob suggested, his words a little muffled since his lips were pressed firmly against the top of her head.

Y/N gave a small hum in agreement, burying her nose further into the hollow between his collarbone and shoulder, savouring his unique scent, while running a finger along his arm absentmindedly. She could feel the tension in his muscles disappear instantly, replaced by a sort of content sigh.

"Darlin'?"

"Yes, Bobby?"

With her temple against his shoulder, she looked up at him questioningly, wondering what his next words would be about. Bob smiled down at her, gently tracing her jawline with his finger. His lips barely grazing hers as he pleaded, "One more kiss?" He paused. "Please?"

"Just one?"

"Well, I don't want to push my luck."

"You're such a dork."

She laughed quietly at his reply before closing the gap between them again, attempting to press her lips to his in a sweet quick peck. Bob had other ideas. With a firm grasp on her waist and the other tangled in the hair at the nape of her head, he dipped her down until her back hit the couch cushion. Before she knew it, he was on top of her, leaning in for a deeper kiss. They remained locked together for a few seconds until she broke apart, her lips hovering below his as she whispered softly, "I feel lightheaded."

"Good thing you're lying down," he joked, pulling her flush to him and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. After that, he continued peppering kisses along her jaw, trailing his kisses down until he reached the soft spot at the base of her throat. When he pulled away, Y/N let out a small whine. Bob smirked against the soft skin there before asking, "That enough?"

"More," Y/N pouted. A smirk crept upon his face and without missing a beat, he leant in again for another, then another, then another. He couldn't seem to help himself, the urge to be in close proximity with her overwhelming and leaving no room for thought. Plus, she wasn't complaining.

No matter how many times he kissed her, she never seemed to tire of it. Every time he was within inches of her, she seemed to unconsciously lean towards him. Whether it was subconscious or deliberate, she couldn't say, but she didn't particularly care. At all. In fact, she loved every moment of it. And, judging from the way her hands ran lazily along his back, she was loving it too.

"I don't want to stop but I am about to knock out," he mumbled in between kisses, trying to pull away from her as subtly as possible, though of course he didn't really succeed in doing anything. "Came straight here from the airport. Didn't sleep a wink on the flight."

His attempt at escape only lasted two seconds before he kissed her again. He was powerless to do anything but succumb to the temptation of her soft lips pressed against his, and as the taste of her lingered on his tongue, he became weak. If this was heaven then, Bob wouldn't mind dying. He wasn't religious anymore, but just knowing he was with her and that everything would be alright because of his decision, it was enough to make him believe in some sort of good out there.

"Can't stop: you're too pretty. Like a goddess in disguise. I'm sure you'd beat those.... those - dang, what were they called? Nerd-oids? Nerrr... Poseidon people."

"Nereids."

"You'd beat the Nereids in a pageant any day."

A giggle bubbled up from inside her chest. "I think you just doomed me to be chained to a rock and fed to a horrifying sea monster," she muttered, trying to contain her giggles.

Bob pulled back a fraction so he could stare her straight in the eyes, the corners of his mouth curled upwards as his eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'd save you in a heartbeat." He planted a few soft pecks all over her face, ending with placing a soft, yet lingering kiss on her lips. "But," he added, kissing the tip of her nose, "I'm not sure if a plane is as cool as a flying pony and my sword skills are limited to that time I dressed up as King Arthur in my fifth grade school play."

That was unexpected information. Yet, she knew he wasn't exaggerating about how tired he was because information about his life always fell from his lips whenever he was lacking sleep. His eyelids were drooping heavily, threatening to fall shut at any given second as he let out a big yawn.

"Let's go to bed, Perseus."

"Lead the way, Andromeda."

He allowed her to guide him upstairs, her hand tucked securely in his. They climbed the stairs in relative silence, the sounds of the distant waves and wind in the trees providing a soothing backdrop to their quiet night. By the time they reached the door, he yawned again and she laughed at his adorable antics.

Life was perfect as they continued to revel in the comfort of their new relationship. Well, except there was this one thing - they hadn't been intimate yet. It was two months in and nothing of that sort had happened. It's not as if Y/N had never tried to initiate sex, but Bob always changed the subject or stopped them before they'd even started.

Still, that didn't stop them from being a happy couple.

"Baby, are you ready yet?" His voice rang clear throughout the house as he checked his watch.

Their friend Kenny was having his birthday gathering at a fancy bar and Y/N had taken it as her opportunity to dress up really nice to persuade Bob to finally do something about the sexual tension between them.

"Two minutes."

"You said two minutes five minutes ago."

Y/N rolled her eyes and finished applying her lipstick and brushed her hair with her fingers before looking in the mirror. Yep, Bob was going to be drooling over her in 3...2...1... "Holy fuck!"

Her eyes went wide as she watched Bob's jaw drop at the sight of her. He stood frozen in place, staring at her as her heels clicked against each stair she walked down. His eyes trailed from her legs up her torso to her face. He shook his head slowly, unable to speak as he brought a hand up to brush back some of his hair back from his face. She didn't know whether to laugh, coo, or cry at the adorableness radiating from his face; he was swooning. "Do I look okay?" She asked, tugging at her dress nervously.

"Y/N..." He trailed off, his hands clutching at her hips tightly, as if afraid she would disappear. "You look absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous, actually," he corrected himself quickly and let out a low whistle as he gazed upon her, his eyes roaming across every inch of her body, taking in every feature.

The dress fit her perfectly, emphasising her curves perfectly and accentuating her natural figure. It was simple yet elegant, classy in that old fashioned, off the shoulder movie star way. She had styled her hair into a low bun, with long, flowing strands framing both sides of her face like an angelic halo. Her makeup was flawless and her jewellery sparkled brightly. She felt incredibly beautiful just standing there and completely captivating him.

Then, all of a sudden, she was yanked into a hungry smooch, causing her to squeak in surprise. His hands slipped around to rest on either side of her body, keeping her firmly trapped against him as he took advantage of her gasp. She placed a hand against his chest, trying to get some space between them, but he held fast, refusing to let her go.

"Bobby, we have to go."

"Two minutes."

More than two minutes passed by as he continued kissing her. She eventually had to push him a little to get a chance to disconnect herself from him. As soon as she did, however, Bob immediately grabbed hold of her waist once more and pulled her right back onto him. It was impossible to resist, but she had to.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

"You have lipstick all over your mouth," Y/N teased as she pulled out a tissue from her bag and wiped it away while Bob gave her a devilish grin. She chuckled, shaking her head, her eyes glancing back up at his briefly returning to the job at hand. "Seriously though. We should go. You know, for Kenny's party," she reminded him.

Bob groaned loudly like a grumpy teenage boy, his expression falling slightly. It was obvious that wasn't what he wanted anymore. She knew that he would be begging to leave early.

Kenny was surprised that Robert Floyd, the man that was an hour early to the first frat party he went to and waited on the porch until other people arrived to go inside, was late. Then he saw the tiny unwiped smudge of Y/N's lipstick in the corner of his lip and knew exactly why Bob had been twenty minutes late. "So, are you guys officially together now?" Kenny asked when Bob entered the room and sat down next to him. His friend nodded, letting out a dreamy sigh.

"Yeah, we are."

"Finally!" Kenny cheered, throwing an arm around Bob's shoulders, effectively knocking him off his chair as he laughed loudly. "And you, Missy: you look gorgeous tonight! So hot, I almost can't stand it!"

The birthday boy clearly had already started the fun before he even got to the bar. Kenny was nursing some exciting looking cocktail that had a sparkler and multiple mini umbrellas in it. "You wanna know what was the first thing he said when he saw you? Rob pointed, did that thing - you know, that innocent farm loverboy look - and whispered to me, and I quote, 'that is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen'," Kenny slurred slightly, laughing loudly as he mimicked Bob's tone of voice. "I thought he was pointing to the poster of Megan Fox that was right beside your head and agreed with him."

Looking up at him (admittedly, she didn't have to crane her neck as high as usual due to her heels), Y/N found the sight of Bob's blushing cheeks an amusing sight to behold. Bob coughed, attempting to recover, but any doubt that the story was the ramblings of a drunk man was squashed by his reaction. "Why'd you never let this story slip?"

"Didn't want you to think I only became your friend because I think you're pretty," Bob shrugged sheepishly. It always astounded her how his confidence was zapped out of him whenever he was in public.

Soon, Y/N was pulled away to talk to the girls who all wanted to know where the hell that dress came from, and Y/N was willing to fill them in. From across the bar, Bob was being teased by all his friends, which was usual.

"Look at you! You're totally whipped."

"You say that as if it's a new thing. He's had a crush on Y/N for years."

"Remember that time Y/N got super drunk and Rob carried her all the way to her dorm at three am."

"That's not even the whole story. They stopped off a McDonald's on the way and he bought her the twenty nuggets, but he ended up eating them all when he slept on her floor -"

"I slept next to her," Bob interjected, a hint of smugness in his voice. "She sobered up by the time we got into her room and didn't want to sleep alone."

Memories of their college days kept being brought up as the group chatted amongst themselves, making jokes and laughing along with each other. Eventually, the two groups merged into one large group who all made sure Bob was forced out onto the dance floor.

And as always, it took no time for Y/N to coax him into her arms to move to the music, swaying her hips to the beat that was more fast paced than the songs the couple were used to dancing to. He grinned, allowing himself to be dragged across the dance floor, enjoying every second that he spent with his girlfriend in his grip.

Though, the mix of how hot she looked and the way her body was moving against his, it was hard for Bob to pay attention to anyone else. Y/N's back was flush to his chest as she danced against him, occasionally tilting her head up to smile at him. Every touch, every kiss sent waves of euphoria through his body and he couldn't keep the dopey grin off his face as he gazed down at her.

Bob had dressed up too, but, at this point, his once perfect tie had been loosened and his collar unbuttoned. His clothes consisted of a button up shirt that had once been tucked into his pants, his sleeves pushed up as far as they could go, showing off his muscled forearms and biceps. A pair of dark wash jeans hugged his thighs snugly and his sneakers, which still fit perfectly, shone under the lights as he swayed side to side to the rhythm of the song.

"Bobby, baby, you look so sexy right now," Y/N giggled as she pressed her lips against his cheek, causing him to chuckle loudly and shake his head as his eyes fluttered closed and his lips twitched into a small smile.

"Can we leave now?"

"No! Not yet."

He whined childishly, pulling her closer towards him. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, burying his nose into her neck as he breathed in deeply, enjoying how intoxicating the scent of her perfume was.

"Shots! Guys I've got everyone a shot and you have to take it because it's my birthday," Kenny exclaimed, causing Y/N and Bob to silently agree to slip away for a second to ensure they didn't have to do it. Bob had never been a huge fan of booze and Y/N wanted to make sure she was completely sober when they got home.

They snuck into a quiet corner. Bob sat on a bar stool and tugged Y/N by the waist so he was eye level to her chest. "Please can we go?" He pouted, giving her the puppy dog eyes and the most pitiful look he could possibly manage to give.

Y/N chuckled quietly, shaking her head fondly at his cute behaviour. She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on his shoulders as she ran her fingers through his hair. "I know you're not a big fan of parties, why don't we stay for Kenny's horrible attempt at karaoke? Then, I promise, after that we can go. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

As they presumed, Kenny's singing was horrible. But they listened to it anyway, cheering him on from the crowd, clapping their hands enthusiastically and smiling widely at his terrible performance. When he finally left the stage, the pair said their farewells and headed home.

The drive home was relatively quiet in the beginning. Bob was trying to focus on the road and not how Y/N's dress had slid up her thigh just slightly. It was too much. His hand languidly roamed up her thigh, his thumb rubbing softly against her skin. "Can I tell you something? Please promise you won't freak out?"

"I promise, Bobby."

Here goes nothing. "I'm so hard right now. Like really hard."

"Why would I freak out about my boyfriend and his erection?" Y/N asked innocently with a grin, her eyebrow raising teasingly. To go even further, she slowly slid his hand against her underwear. "Why would I mind when I'm as wet as I am? Feel it?"

His breath hitched, causing his lips to part and his hand retreat back to the steering wheel while his brain short circuited. The heat between the both of them caused Bob to become dizzier by the minute. "Uh, yeah," he managed to stutter, barely able to get the words out and trying desperately to concentrate on the road ahead of him. "I- I can feel it."

"Don't you want to do something about how wet I am, baby?" Her voice was husky and thick with need as she reached over and ran her hand slowly up his thigh again. His throat felt drier than the Sahara desert.

"I do... Trust me, I really do. I don't want to disappoint you." Bob smiled sadly down at the steering wheel. As much as he wanted to spend the night making love to his girlfriend, he couldn't risk messing up and losing her interest. "An old girlfriend told me I'm not, uh, I'm not good at... that I got too deep in my head and neither of us could enjoy it... Y/N, I want you to enjoy it but I don't know how and-"

Shit. She'd intended to turn him on, not turn him into a nervous mess. Her hand came up to soothingly caress the nape of his neck, calming his frantic rambling. "Breathe for me, sweetheart. Take a few deep breaths," she whispered calmly, gently running her nails across the skin. She continued soothing the area until he stopped mumbling and breathing heavily. "It's okay, baby. We'll wait until we get home, talk about everything and, if you want, I can take the lead until you become comfortable. Does that sound like a good plan?"

Never in a million years did he expect to get so turned on, but here he was, shifting uncomfortably in his seat with his mouth wide open in surprise. "Yes! I mean, yeah...yeah, that sounds fine. Okay, yes. Yes please," he quickly responded, unable to stop the smile from creeping onto his face.

Y/N giggled before placing a small kiss on his cheek and settling back into her seat, staring outside the window as the car began its journey back home. Bob stayed silent throughout the ride, his mind running wild as thoughts raced around inside of it. This kind of excitement and passion felt almost foreign, yet at the same time very familiar. It had been there, lurking underneath the surface for months.

Once they parked up on her drive, Bob was quick out of his door to help her out of her side like a true gentleman should, earning an amused grin from her in return. He was quick to hang his jacket up and kick off his shoes as he looked up at her with eager eyes when they got inside. Without her even asking him to, he knelt before her and gently placed her foot on his thigh so he could undo the straps of her heels before sliding off them.

"You're so good to me, baby," she cooed as his gaze flickered back up to hers, a shy smile playing on his lips. Her fingers traced his jawline as she gestured for him to stand upright, and as soon as he pulled himself up from the floor, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Thank you for understanding." His cheeks were pink as he nuzzled his face against her shoulder, his heart pounding wildly within his chest. Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as his lips attached themselves to her skin.

After a moment, Bob pulled back slightly to press a long, lingering kiss against her soft lips, his eyes closing tightly as he relished the feeling. Once the kiss ended, he took one last lingering glance downwards before looking her straight in the eyes. "Do you..." Bob started hesitantly, biting down lightly on his lower lip. "Would you like to try tonight?"

"It has been forever since I've gotten laid so I'm going to say yes," she replied, her tone playful as she grabbed his tie and seductively pulled him up to her room, dragging him behind her excitedly.

For once, he might actually enjoy sex.

"Unzip me, baby," she ordered, her tone still somewhat soft. Bob obliged, unzipping her dress swiftly and slipping it off of her, leaving her standing only in panties, her skin glistening in the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through her blinds. "Like it? I picked this bra just for you."

A satisfied grin curled upon her lipstick lips as she watched Bob stare hungrily at her body, the lust burning in his gaze. She loved knowing that she drove him crazy, but seeing him like this made her heart flutter and her stomach tighten in anticipation. "Do you want to touch?" She inquired as she walked towards him slowly, trailing kisses along the sides of his neck and up towards his jaw. She found his hands and slid them up her sides until both were firmly groping at her breasts, kneading and massaging them as she let out moans of pleasure. "Bobby, take my bra off for me."

Instantly, he nodded, his pupils dilated and his breathing uneven as he undid the clasp of her bra, slowly letting the material slide down her body until it landed around her feet, exposing her beautiful bare breasts to him and allowing his lips to drop to one, taking a nipple between his teeth before tugging at it gently.

At first Y/N was lost in bliss, her hand on the back of his head to encourage him to continue with his ministrations. But then she became aware and tugged on his hair. His attention immediately snapped up towards her as he looked at her curiously. "Did I say you could do that?"

"Um, I didn't think-"

"You don't have to think." Her fingers deftly slipped beneath the front of his trousers and tugged at his belt, pulling it free and tossing it carelessly aside. She stared up at him with a devilish grin, her eyes twinkling as she unzipped his jeans and let them fall around his ankles. "Go sit down on the bed, sweetheart."

Bob complied without complaint, plopping down on her bed and waiting patiently for her to kneel between his legs. He watched entranced as she tenderly placed a kiss on each knee cap before leaning up to pull him down by his tie, connecting their lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth greedily and she allowed him access without hesitation, parting her lips ever so slightly as their tongues moved in perfect sync, creating a sensation unlike anything he had ever known before in her life.

Her hands slipped underneath his shirt, her fingers brushing the skin of his chest and abs in the way she knew he liked. Bob groaned as she trailed her fingernails down his abs, leaving hot, red marks in the process which caused his stomach to knot. "Can I touch you?" She asked hoarsely, kissing his cheek. "Would you like me to?"

"Yeah," he breathed out in response.

Y/N kissed up his neck and nibbled his earlobe affectionately as she slipped her hand into his underwear. He whimpered under his breath as she began stroking him, the warmth she left sending shivers racing down his spine and the feeling of ecstasy shooting through his entire system instantly. The sound of his moan only seemed to spur on Y/N as she began moving faster and faster, making him gasp in surprise and delight.

He felt as though he were flying and every nerve ending felt alive as all the pent up emotions of frustration and confusion and worry that had built up inside of him melted away leaving nothing more than pure euphoria. All of his nerves went lax and his brain blanked out of all thought, he didn't need to focus on anything other than getting what he wanted.

"Good boy, baby," Y/N praised him as she kept pumping him relentlessly. "Do you feel good?"

"Yes... yes... oh god yes..." He then proceeded to mutter incoherent words that were soon drowned by moans as she continued stroking him vigorously while his orgasm built up.

Y/N smirked wickedly as she continued to tease him mercilessly, bringing him to the brink then slowing down. He whined lowly, begging her to go faster, his hips bucking as his whole body shook with intense pleasure. "Please...please, please, please, please, please… I, I need it. Darlin, I - Fuck! Please, baby."

"You sound so sweet when you beg." She gave him a teasing kiss on the lips, pulling away as soon as he tried to deepen it. "Not going to let you come yet."

A giggle escaped her mouth at the face he made as edged him, watching with amusement how he shook and tried to catch his breath after the intense rush. She leaned over him and pressed a gentle kiss onto his cheek to quell any frustration he had, smiling when he returned the gesture eagerly. He needed that contact to ground him in reality; the fact that he wasn't dreaming or imagining things; this was real and happening right now.

That need is why he allowed himself to suggest, "Sit on my face?"

"Bobby, are you sure?" she murmured in response, her fingers grazing along his jaw as she spoke, her eyes never leaving his own, searching them for any signs of uncertainty.

"I'm positive, baby." His voice came out strained and breathless, his entire body aching for her touch. "Please. I need it."

The look of adoration in his eye melted her insides to mush, leaving her completely speechless. For a moment, she forgot everything as she simply sat there staring at his gorgeous blue eyes. Her thumb ran circles across his cheek, caressing him gently.

"One hundred percent sure?"

"Absolutely."

Who was she to deny him? Ensuring that she had his consent and permission, she proceeded by slowly undoing his shirt and tie. "Can't ruin your fancy clothes, can we?"

"I could always buy more."

With a chuckle at how desperate he sounded, she reached up and pushed his glasses off of his face, setting them on the nightstand next to the bed. His eyes followed her movements, drinking in her appearance appreciatively as she kissed down his chest, teasing at the muscles of his abdomen before trailing her lips up to his cheek. She paused to give him one last soft peck on his lips, telling him, "Lie with your head hanging off the side of the bed."

Quickly, he scrambled to do as such, lying flat on his back as she stood up from the bed and stepped out of her underwear. A blush spread across his face as he glanced upwards at her body. He couldn't help it as his eyes roved over her naked flesh in appreciation, marvelling at how perfect she was. She was an angel and he wished there was a way he could spend every single day of his life worshipping her body like he did now.

Before she hovered her pussy over his mouth, she reassured, "Tap my thigh if you are suffocating." He did the motion to prove that he understood. "Ready?"

"Born ready, darlin."

So, with deliberate slowness, she lowered herself onto his face, keeping her feet on the ground so she could easily remove herself if he needed to breathe. When he took hold of her thighs, however, she knew for a fact that he was thoroughly enjoying himself, a low hum emitting from his throat every few seconds as he licked at her pussy. He moved his tongue around leisurely, teasing it against the folds as he sucked hard on her clit which prompted her to whimper and grind against his face.

Pleasure overtook her senses and she didn't want them to stop. But they had to. Only for a little bit because he had been making her feel good but had yet to give himself two seconds to make sure if he was okay. "Let's, oh fuck, let's take a second to breathe, baby."

"No!" He said quickly, pushing her legs further apart with his free hand and forcing himself deeper into her pussy.

"Lieutenant Floyd, you're going to suffocate."

Hearing her say that forced him to follow orders. "Good boy. Breathe for me, my pretty boy," she cooed, her thumb brushing against his bottom lip as she gazed lovingly down at him. "Kiss?"

"Want one."

It was rather sweet when Y/N had to fully sit on his chest and lean down to give him a kiss. She giggled and rested her hands on his shoulders, keeping herself balanced on top of him as she planted tiny kisses all over his face. "Mmm..." He moaned happily as he closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh, relishing every second of being surrounded by her warm, sensual scent.

Robert Floyd was pussy drunk. And, he wanted to get wasted.

"My break is over."

"Oh, is it?" Y/N teased with a smirk. His eyes were glazed over with lust, his chin slick with drool and her, his hair a mess as brought her knee closer to his face so he could kiss it repeatedly. He looked as if he was in heaven between her legs and she just loved to see him so happy. He pouted, grabbing a handful of her ass to tug her forward until she was flush with his face again.

Then he got back to it and began sucking hungrily on her clit, causing her to squeal in delight. She arched her back as he worked her with abandon, her nails scraping lightly against the skin of his shoulder, eliciting a loud moan from his throat.

"God, you taste so good!" It was a little muffled, but she knew what he had said. She chuckled, placing her hand into his hair to run her fingers through it as her hips thrust up against his face. He groaned once again, his hands roaming all over her body in search of new sensations to stimulate her pleasure more.

As the time went on, Bob grew bolder, licking and sucking on her clit with more force and teasing her nipples between his fingers. Y/N moaned loudly, throwing her head back as he continued working his magic on her. "Bobby," she whispered urgently when she found herself close. She needed release; she needed it badly. "You're doing so, uh, so fucking well I can't-" Her orgasm hit her suddenly, taking her completely by surprise and causing her to scream out.

He continued to eat her out greedily, his fingers digging deeply into her flesh as she threw her head back in ecstasy. After her body stopped twitching and her cries subsided, he continued to suck and lick her juices off of her thighs as he listened to her panting breaths.

"Are you okay?"

"So okay," Y/N chuckled, trying her hardest to pull herself together. She gave him a playful smile before moving to sit on the bed beside him, resting her head on his broad shoulder. "Did you enjoy yourself, baby?"

The answer was obvious by the goofy grin on his face and the glint in his eyes. "Mhm. So much." He sat up to wrap his arms securely around her waist, pressing her against him possessively as he nuzzled his face against hers and inhaled her scent. "So so so much."

Y/N laughed softly, wrapping her arms around him too as she pulled him in for a tender kiss. "Good." She smiled against his lips. "Cause we're not done yet."

His grin widened even further at her words, knowing exactly where she was heading. "Do you want me or you to take the reins for the next bit?" she inquired seductively, arching her eyebrow in challenge. His grin disappeared as quickly as it had appeared as his cock hardened rapidly beneath his boxers, a growl slipping past his lips at the thought of how good he was going to feel and the sounds she'd make doing so.

No hesitation. "You."

"Head against the pillows then. Let your eyes close."

Not needing another instruction, he complied immediately. He could barely wait for her to remove his boxer briefs, his eyes fluttering shut and his breathing increasing slightly. The warmth of her hands on his erection made his eyes snap open to find her already positioned in front of him, holding his length tightly in her hand.

As soon as he felt the tip of her hot pink tongue running down his length, his knees turned to jelly, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and he released a deep groan of pleasure. "Oh God...you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'."

"Shh, relax. Relax and let yourself get taken care of."

"I won't last long. Just fuck me."

She couldn't help the giggle that slipped past her lips. "I will. Trust me, I'm just trying to rile you up before I ride your cock," she retorted teasingly before sinking her teeth lightly into his thigh, her lips lingering around the sensitive area to draw out a loud groan from him.

"I'm riled. I am thoroughly riled. I need you, please. Baby, please," he pleaded desperately, gripping her hair tightly as he brought their faces closer so that he could kiss her. She moaned in response as his tongue delved deep within her mouth and she felt herself being lifted into his waiting arms, his grip on her waist beginning a needy slew of grinds that were very persuasive.

Continuing her teasing would be cruel at this point, so Y/N gave in to the desire bubbling inside of her and his borderline pitiful whines. She slid the palm of her hands down his chest until they settled comfortably on his waist as she sat herself up. "Are you ready? Do you want me to make you feel good?"

She waited until he nodded to lower herself down on his cock, gasping at the stretch as she pushed down onto him slowly and watching him intently as he clenched his jaw tight. He was fighting to keep his eyes open to inspect every change on her face as she adjusted herself to the size of his dick.

"That's it! You're doing amazing," he encouraged breathlessly. Her head was tilted back, exposing her neck as she enjoyed the sensation of finally having his cock buried inside of her for the first time and it definitely was a task to take. "Just a little more. Good girl, don't stop now."

Letting out soft whimpers, Y/N finally took all of him into her body and started moving back and forth slowly, allowing his shaft to fill her up. Bob's fingers tangled themselves in the sheets as she did and he tried to fight back the urge to come already, but it was hard when he was feeling so damn good.

"I know you want to come, baby. Hold out just a little longer, " she coaxed, her tone gentle and low. As she increased the pace of her movement, she ran a finger down his abs, making him groan and buck up further into her. "Oh fuck, do that again."

So, as he did with all of her orders, he did as she said. With his grip tight enough to bruise her hips, he began fucking upwards into her pussy, driving her crazy as he'd managed to find a certain sensitive spot completely on accident. Every single thrust of his hips sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, each one sending a jolt of pure pleasure through her.

Judging by his whines, he was very close to the edge so she began to play with her clit to help her along, causing her to tighten her muscles around him and her to gasp loudly as her whole body shook violently. "Can I? Can I come now?" Bob gasped desperately, his cock throbbing in desperation and needing relief. "Oh fuck, you feel so good coming on my cock, so good that I'm going to, I'm going..."

"Let go, Bobby. You'll hurt yourself if you hold in any more. Come for me. Come for me baby, you know you want to. Yes, right there...come for me..." Y/N begged, loving the way his voice sounded and the sight of his handsome face contorted in ecstasy, sweat dripping down his brow, a vein pulsating in his neck as his eyes rolled back in his head, unable to control himself anymore.

In no time flat he came, releasing his load deep inside her with a broken cry of "I love you." Then he limply flopped back onto the mattress, still twitching inside her as his climax gradually faded away, leaving him exhausted and sweaty and sated. She giggled happily and crawled over top of him as his heart began to beat wildly in his chest, and she placed her warm lips against his neck before whispering sweet, sweet nothing in his ear.

"You did so well, baby boy. Look at you, you're all fucked out." She stroked his damp cheek gently before pulling away. He grabbed her arm before she could move towards the bathroom. "I was going to get a towel to clean us up."

"Let me."

Without wasting a single second that she would use to convince him to stay in bed, he climbed out and rushed into the bathroom. Yes, he really did profess his love while coming in her. No, that is not how he wanted it to happen. He wanted it to be romantic. He had it all planned out.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Can you forget what I said when I came?" He returned to her, staring at her as she focused on the ceiling and took some deep breaths only for her head to whip to him, a curious yet hurt expression on her face. "Because that was not planned."

They were silent as he ran a towel around her thighs, cleaning up any remnants of him from her skin and her from his. She didn't answer his question, choosing to remain quiet, her eyes fixated on the wall in front of her until he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning her face towards him so that she could meet his gaze directly.

"Would you like to hear my plan?" He brushed a lock of sweaty hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She swallowed thickly, her eyes never wavering from his as she gave a small nod.

Well, he might as well explain. Especially when she looked all pouty at the wrong assumption she'd made that he didn't love her.

"My big romantic gesture to tell you that I am hopelessly, so pitifully, so so deeply in love with you was supposed to be on your birthday. I had it all worked out. I'd have it all set up: the blanket so we could lie back and stargaze comfortably; the snacks because, well, snacks are great; and then I'd let you unwrap the telescope I got you."

He paused to chastise himself, "Which I could've not mentioned to keep it a surprise, but I've done it now and I'm going to get you something else as well to keep the mystery going."

"You don't need to get me anything else. The telescope is perfect as it is," she said softly, leaning forward to plant a small peck on his lips, her smile spreading as his hand reached up to cup the side of her face tenderly.

"Then we'd cuddle. We'd watch the stars. It would be so comfy and sweet and you'd have a pink nose because it's cold out. And the best part? Your cheeks." His thumbs started tracing small circles into her cheeks. "These cute things. They'd become the same colour as your nose when I finally said those three words that I've been trying to say for so long."

His words seemed almost too good to be true, yet they were one hundred percent pure truth.

"Now I've fucked it by moaning it when I shot my come in you." He paused, giving her a look full of apology before continuing, "I hope that's okay, but I couldn't help myself. It was simply too good and-"

Interrupting him, she pressed her lips to his before he even finished explaining himself. His body relaxed immediately in reaction to her touch, his lips relaxing into a gentle smile when she leant back for him to loom above her, trapping her underneath him.

"I love you too, Bobby," she whispered tenderly as she stared up at him, a blush forming across her cheeks, a bright smile adorning her face. "But we can do the cheesy mushy shit later because I'm sticky and would love round two in the shower."

Bob smiled back at her softly as he pulled back slightly and planted his forehead atop hers. He couldn't help but beam, "So you're saying that you love me and that I was good enough at sex that you want to go again?"

Y/N laughed quietly under her breath. "Maybe."

Bob was living in a constant state of giddiness and he was loving every second of it.

"I think I should take that as a yes then, huh?"

"I wouldn't mind taking the lead for a while," she teased, poking his stomach with her index finger playfully. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye and she knew exactly what he was about to say next without having to utter another word, knowing that he was up for the challenge.

"Want me to carry you to the bathroom?"

The answer was obvious.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x reader #bob fucks #bob floyd #top gun maverick #Youtube

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unrealisticlea · 1 month

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I never badmouthed season 6 while it was airing and I always went into episodes thinking “I’m gonna take what’s good and ignore everything else” and I always blogged what I liked and shut up about what I didn’t like (except the sperm donor storyline, I bitched about it all the time, fuck that shit) but now that I have nothing but praise for 911 season 7 I gotta get this off my chest: SEASON 6 WAS BAD!!! IT WAS SO BAD I DECIDED TO STOP WATCHING 911 AFTER THE GODDAMN AWFUL FINALE!!! The only good things were HenRen Begins, “Mom brought two kids into the marriage, you brought one”, Madney Proposal and 6x13!!! And THAT’s IT!!! I was bored out of my mind half of the time and appalled at the nonsense choices the other half!!! I fucking SKIPPED scenes!!! I’ll never forgive them for making me skip scenes IN MY FAVOURITE SHOW!!! Everything was immediately forgettable, I couldn’t tell you a single thing that changed the characters in a meaningful way!!! They fucking MURDERED Buck and did nothing with it!!! There was no Josh or Sue or Linda!!! dispatch was completely forgotten! The Jinx 2.0 episode was the episode where Eddie had the most screentime and nothing happened!!! They had a WHOLE EPISODE where Buck and Eddie were married and raising Chris together and 2 episodes later they had Bobby tell Eddie “you are a lonely single dad and I feel bad for you”!!! I hate that Chim lost the ring!!! I hated Danny’s father!!! I hated the Han and Buckley parents redemption arcs!!!! I hated Tia Pepa sending Eddie on dates!!! I hated that 6x11 had both Thunder by Imagine Dragons and Fix You by Coldplay!!! It was supposed to be most heart-wrenching episode and it felt like I was watching glee! And don’t get me started on whatever the fuck they were doing with Buck. Seriously, what the fuck were they doing with Buck??? They kept setting up life-changing experiences for him and they always went nowhere!He wanted to be enough to become Captain. He wanted to find happiness. And instead they took away his couch and gave him a dumb book about always saying yes, a bunch of cum jokes and old friends who really drove home the fact he’s only good for spare parts. They told us explicitly he was suicidal and they just made him chase and date a death doula about that!!! They put him through the worst things they could think of and he somehow ended up exactly where he started!!! The pacing was weird, they kept picking up storylines and then dropping them and then wrapping them like 3 episodes later in 5 minutes! The calls were absolutely forgettable! There was no big emergency! They kept pairing characters in weird ways and supposedly best friends went months without so much looking at each other! The finale was an high stakes emergency for like ten seconds! And the fact that it was supposed to be the last episode ever makes everything worse because it means that they wanted to end the entire show with everyone on its own, no firefam, just a bunch of republican nuclear families! How do you make the last episode ever of a 6 seasons tv show so boring that during the same week Lone Star murdered a beloved recurring character and my first thought was “well. At least something happened in this show!”.

that’s it. I’m done. I’ll never speak of this season again. Returning to normal posting about how I love everything and everyone.

#911 fox #season 6 review #definitely a skip in my rewatch #except 6x11 for Buck and Bobby #and 6x13 because of buddie and Buckley Diaz family

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hauntedwitch04 · 6 months

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Bdays cake

brother!Den Winchester x sister!reader

(Dean x Cas because Destiel is my ship and they deserve to be happy)

Words: about 2.0k words

Warnings: sad Dean (my love), John Winchester (in this account John Winchester is a worse enemy and more evil than Lucifer, at the end I kinda love my Luci :) ), lovely Cas, lovely moment between siblings

Author's note: Hi! Here another one shot fo the series for my birthday. Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm kinda freakin' out because i have my first exams of uni :). Hope you like it loves, with love your witch Becky

p.s I'm at season 6, so plese be kind with comment if i got somethign wrong :)

Requests are open I Ask

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Bday plan

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean loves cakes.

And this I think is a universally known truth.

And he's also a decent cook, if we have to be honest, but if we really have to find something that he can't cook, well that's cakes.

Today is your birthday, his beloved little sister, whom he still finds hard to believe has grown up enough to be 19 years old, yet just today he had gone to the supermarket to buy candles, since the nine had now been lost since you celebrated your nine years many years ago and the one they had used the year before for your 18th birthday had melted after Cas had used it as a Christmas candle, thinking it was a badly made candy cane. As a matter of fact, the cashier had smiled at him when she had seen his purchase, along with all the ingredients for the cake she is making, and had asked him how old you were and he in turn, trying to be cordial to the old lady had replied that you would be 19 the next day, today. The lady had smiled even more and told him something like, "It's bad to see one's children grow up so fast, I guess all you would want is for your little girl to still be little." Those words had upset Dean a bit because: first, he had not thought he looked so old that he could have a 19-year-old daughter (Cas, in fact, had spent hours trying to convince her beloved husband, who had been staring at himself in front of the mirror, that he didn't actually look that old and that the lady probably couldn't see that well); second, that indeed perhaps those words were true.

You were born out of a one-night stand, had with a woman in some state that he doesn't even remember, of his father; in fact all Dean remembers is that one day, when he was in his early twenties, his father had walked through the motel door with a bundle of blankets in his hand, and inside in that comfortable chest was you. His life had improved with a simple little human, in fact that day had changed his life, and for that it was the best day of his existence.

Sam had been leaving him for a while, and he had never felt so lonely as he did during those years, and then you had come along, and everything had improved so damn much. Sam had learned about you from a call at two o'clock in the morning from his brother as soon as you had arrived, and immediately asked him to come over to find out about the new addition to the family, and loving you immensely from the first time he had held you in his arms, and found out that Dean was already going crazy not wanting to miss a single thing with you and buying every baby thing he saw in the supermarkets.

For a long time he had been trying to keep you out of his life, leaving you with Bobby and a few other trusted people, but then he couldn't keep you away from himself anymore, coming to see you every chance he got even driving days at a time without stopping, because you were always his light, his tender little reason for living.

Over time you had grown and become a great hunter, having great teachers.

You have always been related to both of your brothers then, but with Dean there has always been a special relationship, you have always been accomplices, each other's halves, and because of that until he met Castiel, Dean was convinced that you were his soul mate.

And it hurts him to see you grow up, to see you become an adult, you his sweet, innocent little girl making drawings to hang on Bobby's fridge with you, your favorite big brother and a gutted monster on them. (Dean also will never confess it to you, because he is too used to not letting on how he feels, but he still has in a box in the back of his closet all the things you gave him when you were little, a box full of mementos, candy, labels and especially all those drawings, wanting to somehow trap little baby you).

But coming back to this moment, we left our Dean intending to read the recipe for your favorite cake, thinking it was very easy, much easier than the website would have you believe. So he takes the ingredients he had bought the day before and begins our great hero's adventure against the most treacherous monster of all: the bakery.

A few minutes pass and already the oldest Winchester finds himself covered in flour, butter and something he cannot recognize, and all having not even opened the flour yet, and for that he does not understand how it was possible.

Cas at the door lets out a small laugh as she looks at her busy husband, who upon hearing it looks up and gives him the middle finger.

"Are you still sure you want to do this? We all know you're not a bad cook, but when it comes to pies you're not exactly the best person for the job." Confesses the angel, approaching Dean, then trying to wipe his cheek before leaving him a kiss in the small area he had obtained.

"She deserves it. I-I have to make her a cake, I have to do something to show her that she is very important to me, she is my little girl, I love her." The man says, gradually shutting off his voice, hoping her husband would not hear the last words, still ashamed a little that he might look weak in her eyes, even though she had now seen him in all his lowest moments and had loved him even in those moments. Cas shakes her head, as we all are doing after all, and looks at the man she loves enough to deny her past and embrace a new present, dreaming of a wonderful future.

"And just tell her what you told me? Don't think I'm not happy that you want to bake her cake, I'm convinced it's a wonderful idea, but it would be even better perhaps if you bake the cake together. She loves to bake, especially cakes for you, why not do it together this time?" Proposes the shorter man of the two, looking into the eyes of Dean who was currently holding back tears, feeling for the umpteenth time as wrong, useless and incapable as when after a hunt gone wrong his father scolded him and beat him until he almost fell unconscious after yet another beer too many.

"Precisely because of that, I have to do it for her. I know perfectly well what it's like to have the need to make sure you do everything to make others feel good, without thinking of yourself, and I don't want her to feel that way too, that the cakes she bakes for me are a duty. I want to return the favor, and for once do it to her." Winchester counters, trying to hide his distress from the piercing blue eyes of the angel he loves so much.

"Then let me help you." Cas begs him, taking his still soiled hands, not caring that he too is now covered in flour, before wrapping leave them to wrap his arms around the waist of the man who had stolen his heart ever since he had seen him in Hell, causing him to plummet, literally dare I say it, from his home.

Dean doesn't find the strength to answer right away, but shakes his head vehemently, before saying in a low voice that he had to do it alone, that he couldn't be helped or the guilt would grip him for who knows how long. This time it is Cas's turn to shake his head, commenting as loudly as all the Winchesters he knows thus emphasizing that John is not for a dick's sake like his sons by reiterating once again the eternal hatred he feels for that existing being who had helped bring his favorite siblings into the world, highlighting how they were frighteningly the same: stubborn, proud, and stupidly and bravely the most selfless and good people he knows.

The sweet and affectionate scene between the two, to the detriment of us poor readers, is interrupted by a voice, yours, which you cannot help but comment on the angel's words.

"Well my dear, you have bound yourself to us with a bond worse than a pact with Crowley himself by marrying that old man." You laughingly comment, looking around the kitchen a bit as you wonder what happened: whether a bomb went off or your brother and his husband decided to have crazy sex while cooking themselves a romantic dinner.

"What happened here?" You ask, then rest your eyes on Dean's red ones, which had let go a few minutes ago in a silent cry on Cas's shoulder.

The angel mumbles an excuse and runs out of the kitchen, leaving you alone, and you immediately hug your brother, not knowing what else to do.

"Sorry, I don't know what else to say. Sorry for not being what you deserve, I wanted to make a cake to celebrate your birthday, but I couldn't even make a fucking easy cake. I am a terrible person, I failed, just like dad failed. I wanted to be better for you, I wanted you to have everything I didn't have, and I feel like shit because I couldn't do it." Dean confesses tearfully as he clutches your figure in your mighty arms, and you can't help but cry in turn and hold him even tighter to you, and sob against his chest.

"Don't even joke about it, you have always been, are and will always be great. You are the only reason I didn't run away from Dad, because I wanted you, and I love you so much, that I can't leave you even for a second because you are a fundamental part of my happiness." You answer, in a voice just loud enough for him to hear you. "I love you, because of what you do and what you are, not because of what you feel obligated to do."

"I love you too little one, much more than you know." He confesses in turn. You stay like this for a while in each other's arms, doing nothing and enjoying each other's presence, until you propose something.

"How about we go see a movie, maybe one of the cartoons we like so much, and then tomorrow, since it's my birthday, we'll all have a cake together, with even those two assholes behind the door who are trying to hide." You comment, seeing Sam and Cas come out of the corner where they were hiding.

They, a little guilty, apologize but you say it's nothing and together they all went to see a movie together, like the beautiful and happy, if a little unfortunate in some (many) cases.

Now the story does not end here, but how about giving these poor people some privacy, I think they have suffered enough already. I hope this little story, good continuation and good research to the next fanfiction to read, from your prophetess Chuck-no sorry Becky is all, with love, to our next fanfiction.

TAGLIST

@cheyennep3107 @mortica-raven13 @theviewfromtheotherside @supernatural-lvr @imnotcryingurcrying-blog

#hauntedwitch04's writing #dean winchester fanfic #dean x castiel #dean winchester x castiel #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #deanwinchesterxreader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #sister

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sebstan2020 · 4 months

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Not Leaving

Chapter 41

Parings: Steve Kemp x Noa

Summary: What if Noa hadn't managed to kill Steve and hadn't been able to get away, what would have happened.

Alternative ending to Fresh were Steve wins against the fight between Noa, Molly and Penny

Warnings: Dom/sub, Psychopath, Kidnapping, Cannibalism, Captive, Handcuffs, Medical torture, Light bondage, Blood, Controlling

Noa slept nervously that night, staring blankly in the darkness of the bedroom. She couldn’t move due to the dead weight of Steve's arm over her stomach, tightly holding her against his chest, his light breaths tickling the back of her neck, his snores keeping her up. Her mind was in a complete fuzz. She had managed to get out of taking her medication tonight, but the morning was still yet to come. Steve was so vigilant on her taking them, insistent every morning and up until today, she would have swallowed them without a second thought, clearly believing they were helping her and her memory, holding onto that little hope that her memory would suddenly come back.

But now, now she had no trust in them… or Steve. Why would he do that to her. Her own husband feeding her pills that clearly weren’t helping her memory but hindering it more. He was a doctor himself, surely, he would know those weren’t the right meds and he knew the side effects. Noa was in two minds. Should she bring it up to him. Half of her was screaming at her to call him out, to get the answers she really needed but her other half was telling her to wait. Something wasn’t right, Noa knew it. Whether it was her imagination, but things were starting to click together. The fall she had a couple of days ago, could that have been because of the meds. Steve was so adamant that she shouldn’t go to the bake sale and yet she just happened to feel faint that day and he come running to her rescue. It was almost as if Steve was trying to keep her from knowing her old life, keeping her from interacting with anyone.

Noa sighed shakily, trying to relax in her pillow and shut her eyes. She didn’t want to think like that, and she was praying this was all in her head and none of it was true. Over the last month or so, her head had been fucking with her and she wasn’t in the right mindset. It made her feel sick just thinking that her husband could do something like that.

The following morning, Noa woke groggy and tired. She didn’t catch much sleep what with her mind constantly ticking away and she tiredly shuffled into the kitchen, seeing Steve at the counter. He was dressed and ready for work as usual and he turned smiling gently, having just finished making her a tea.

“Morning” he said cheerfully and Noa smiled tiredly. Although it dropped when she saw the two pills by her side of the mug. Her new meds were in her bag still and she wondered how she was going to get out of taking them this morning. If the new pills recovered any of her memory, her theory would become true.

“Morning” she yawned, and Steve looked down with slight concern on his face, brows furrowed.

“Someone’s tired” he said, his hand coming around and rubbing her back soothingly.

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night” she shrugged, rubbing her tired eyes. The bags underneath was dark and heavy, and Steve handed her the cup of tea.

“Well, this should give you a pick-up” he smiled and Noa hummed, sipping the hot tea. It was delicious and couldn’t fault it, but she suddenly grew anxious as Steve moved the pills closer to her and she looked up at him briefly.

“I was thinking this weekend we could have a little date weekend, dinner, music, drinks. We used to do that a lot before everything, and I know I’ve been working so much but it would be nice to just relax and spend some time just us two” he said and Noa was surprised. Steve had been working a lot and she felt rather lonely lately.

“Yeah, that sounds amazing, maybe take Bobby out for a nice walk as well” she suggested, and Steve nodded excitedly.

“Alright, it’s a date” he chuckled and Noa giggled softly. Normally she’d be jumping with excitement, her cheeks heating up and cuddled to Steve but her never ending theories made her weary of him now. Steve grinned and turned, picking up her meds, holding them in his palm, practically feeding them to Noa. She took a deep breath trying her best not to sound shaky whilst doing so and plucked them from his palm. She smiled tightly before slipping them in, folding them under her tongue quickly and sipping her tea, pretending to swallow them.

“I got to go to work now, I’ll see you later” he whispered, leaning down, and kissing her deeply on the lips, his hand reaching behind her neck and caressing her. Noa smiled, holding the pills tightly under her tongue and managed to squeak out a bye.

“Love you” he called and Noa called out as he walked to the front door.

“Love you” it was slightly mumbled as she desperately held the pills in her mouth and as soon as the door slammed, she threw them out of her, coughing slightly at the strange aftertaste lingering in her mouth. She washed it down with her tea and took a heavy breath. She had never been this nervous and her hands were practically shaking. But she couldn’t go on living like this.

Noa fished out the new meds, popping open the cap. The capsules were a different colour to the ones she currently was taking, this time being blue and red, the others being blue and white. She popped two in her mouth as per the instructions and swallowed them, standing like a statue for a moment before she moved. The house was silent with an eeriness to it and Noa felt her heart pounding. The new meds wouldn’t work instantly but it was a start. She hid them in a place Steve wouldn’t look to, keeping the old ones in place until she thought of a way to make this easier for her.

Steve sang lowly to the music blaring in the operating room in his basement. He had just finished cutting off Kirsty’s breast, a perfect pair to ship off to a client willing to pay $60,000 for them. It sometimes baffled him how much clients would pay for the smallest amount of meat. She put up a mean fight, so Steve sedated her fully and she was lying on the table asleep, two large bandages over her chest. Sometimes it was much easier when they were asleep like this.

She wouldn’t wake for a couple hours still and while the amputated breasts sat in the metal containers next to him, Steve busied himself with Noa’s meds. Of course, his story about picking them up at work was a lie, well a half lie. He was a work but not the work Noa thought he was at. Being a doctor had its advantages and he was able to pick up any prescription he needed. Steve dispensed the meds into the small bottle, adding a fake label to it to make it look like he had picked them up from work, sealing it perfectly against the plastic. It was his main reason for declining Noa’s offer at getting them herself. He couldn’t have her wondering down to the pharmacy and being turned away for not having a prescription when in fact he was supplying them to her himself. All part of his plan to keep Noa the way he wanted.

Steve sung at the top of his lungs to the song pounding through the speakers, turning his attention to the breasts. He cleaned them, wrapped them, labelled them, and took them down to the store freezer, smoke from the coldness blowing out as he opened the door. He dumped them on one of the shelves next to a chest from a girl names Lily. Some of his victims he forgot about, some more memorable than others, one being of course Ann. She was still in here, her arms and legs tucked at the top of the freezer. Perhaps she’d be the next order. He didn’t know why he was keeping her; he’d rather forget about her if he could. At the time she was a good idea, but Noa came along, and he saw truly who she was.

As his eyes wandered around his work, his eyes settled on something. He shuffled over, picking up the body part wrapped in plastic. He didn’t need to look at the label to know whose ass this belonged to. Noa.

Her first and only body part taken from her. He never did sell it; he couldn’t part with it. He wanted it for himself. A chunk had been taken out from the time he tried it. It was possibly the best he ever had, and he wasn’t just saying that. so rich and plump and juicy. But would he be able to eat it now. Steve smiled, huffing softly before putting his piece of Noa back and exiting the freezer. He still had Kirsty left to deal with and then he’d be off home, back to his wife, his Noa.

Chapter 42

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

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boogiewrites · 1 year

Text

Seeing Stars Pt. 21

Part 1 if you missed it!

The aftermath of Star and Eddie's big fight spills over into the lives of those around them. It takes them a few tries before they're able to talk again, both feeling hurt and defensive. What will it take for Eddie's stubborn nature to be derailed? What will be the thing that makes Star realize she has to confront her fears to grow? Eddie finds out from the source what Star went through in her past relationship. Star is left with no more reasons to deny that she's in love with Eddie.

CW: Descriptions of events that happened in an abusive relationship given by the victim. Not graphic but I still wanted to mention it. The abuser uses hurtful language toward the victim. Use of gay slurs by the abuser. A short conversation on men and women and their differences, it's a bit black and white and outdated so I wanted to mention that as well, gender roles and that. More fighting and more hurt. But also a light at the end of the tunnel.

Star survived the long lonely night after her and Eddie’s fight. She drove to school, painfully aware of the fact that she was very alone. She had only taken her sunglasses off if commanded by teachers. She was hung over, she felt like hell down to her bones. New depths of feeling hurt and terrible had been discovered.

She was shaking, watching the clock tick to lunch. She was starving and somehow also nauseous. She didn’t know how to face him. Would he act like nothing happened? Would he tell her to fuck off? She had no idea. So she acted in the way he had called her, and she hid in the bathroom for lunch. She wasn’t proud. She’d try again tomorrow.

Feeling defeated already, the universe felt it suited to further punish Star for withholding her feelings. If she wouldn’t open up and be vulnerable on her own, it could always beat her into submission. So it started with her car. Except that’s exactly what it wouldn’t do. Start. She was on the side of the road out of town and banging her head against the steering wheel. Unlike the guys in her life, she didn’t know much about cars. When your older brother is a great mechanic you never have to learn anything. She let out a groan before popping the hood to make it feel like she was doing something. That way when Robbie inevitably asked her what happened she could say she looked and that it wasn’t on fire at least. She grabbed her bags, locked up the car, and started the walk home. The dark clouds were a middle finger from the universe as it started to rain.

“I would say it can’t get any worse but I know you��ll prove me wrong and hit me with lightning or something so okay I GET IT!” She shouted alone on the side of the road with her arms in the air in annoyance. Luckily it wasn’t too long of a walk.

Tomorrow came, and she’d found Eddie completely ignoring her in their classes like the day before. He made her wonder if she’d gone invisible. She didn’t know he could act like that. But then again, she hadn’t expected him to blow up like he had either. Even if she was starting to understand it. She felt really strange about it. As heartbroken and sad as she was, she felt oddly… calm. She didn’t know that it was acceptance creeping in. Deep down she agreed with everything he’d said. She just had to realize it for herself now.

Greeting her was a not-unusual collection of mail on her counter Robbie had politely sorted for her. She knew the news couldn’t be any worse than the one she’d already got about Bobby so she flicked through them without much thought until one from a Chicago address came into view. Holding it with unsure hands she realized it was from the art scholarship group.

“I don’t even have to open this with the week I’m having do I?” She said aloud.

Sure enough.

“We regret to inform you you were not selected to receive-“ she sighed and tossed it into the trash can not bothering to read the rest. “Fucking great. So I’m stuck here with a guy I love that hates me now and I can’t even escape after graduation to be some shitty artist. Great.” She kicked the cupboard and immediately regretted it. “I guess this summer I’ll be working doubles until I collapse to save up, huh?” She plopped into the bed, full of disappointment in herself.

The next day she made it halfway to the Hellfire table. Eddie still ignoring her, she thinks she would’ve preferred if he was been glaring at her. Indifference hurt more somehow. So she turned at the last minute and sat with Robin. She didn’t ask why. At least not at the table. She did demand answers when it was just her alone, so Star gave in and went to Family Video to spill the beans to both her and Steve. Both were disappointed in her. Both were surprised at Eddie.

After rehashing everything with the Family Video duo, she felt a new wave of gloom wash over her. The bad news of the scholarship and an out-of-service car was enough to push her into old habits. She fell back on the old coping mechanisms she’d taken comfort in before and found herself at The Hideout. She wasn’t proud of it.

Unlike his usual behavior, Eddie took to the confines of the dive too. He knew he could be left alone to brood and have a few drinks. Fulfill some aesthetic of a heartbroken man wallowing in his self-pity for a bit. But he’d been wrong. Now he was trapped, unable to leave the corner booth where he’d hidden away because Star was busy drowning her sorrows across the bar. He had his hood up, zip-up black hoodie, and thankfully no major identifying articles of clothing like his vest. Star had been quiet at first, sulking and somber, sipping away at hard liquor and making small talk with the bartender she liked. The longer the night went on, the louder she got. In 2 hours she was singing karaoke and although it wasn’t bad, the articulation of her words was certainly lacking. Sad song after sad song she went, being ignored by the few other bar customers. It wasn’t hard to tell the poor girl was going through something, so they let it be. She was finishing up a Queen song, trying to sing every part, which was physically impossible, but that certainly wasn’t stopping her from trying. To Eddie’s surprise he saw Steve enter the bar, a noticeable sigh, then a fond smile, a shake of his head as he watched her perform. He took in the space around him. A leftover paranoia from his trauma always compelled him to know where exits were, see who was in the room, and check for danger. He missed waltzing into a room without a care, thinking he was untouchable.

He met Eddie’s eyes, and despite his hair being pulled back into his hood to make himself less noticeable, Steve recognized him. At first surprise, a step back and glancing quickly around the room. His face then shifted and gave him a look that Eddie had seen him give the kids. It was full of irritation and disappointment. Eddie’s eyes widened as he saw he’d been discovered, quickly shaking his head no, pleading with Steve through his eyes to not draw attention to him. Steve picked up on the situation quickly, crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes, head still shaking back and forth as he ran his hand through his hair and left Eddie’s line of sight to retrieve Star.

He was being gentle despite how annoyed he was, Eddie could hear him politely telling Star it was time to go. He heard Star perk up at his voice, saw her melt, and hug him around the neck tightly.

“Oh, Stevie. M’so glad you’re here.” she cooed, kissing his face.

“Alright, there hun.” Steve pat her back and rubbed it as she nuzzled into his chest.

“God you smell so good.” she groaned. Eddie felt heat rise in his face.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, knowing any response from him wouldn’t truly be heard. “Let’s go home. C’mon. Get your coat.” he instructed the wobbly lady.

“We gonna go to your place?” she asked.

“Do you want to?”

“Whatever you wanna do Stevie, baby.” she pat his cheek and Eddie scowled. “Wherever you wanna take me I’ll go,” she said with a bright smile and a nod. She was fully giving in, throwing her misplaced affections at Steve. He was handsome and sweet, and she was craving intimacy something awful. Of course, Steve had no intention of letting her try anything. Eddie was his friend, and Star was drunk. That wouldn’t stop her from acting out though.

“Let’s get you back home then,” he said putting his arm around her shoulders and directing her out of the bar. He shot daggers at Eddie one last time, a look of, 'see what you’ve done'. But to his surprise, Eddie was shooting them right back at him this time. Steve scrunched his face in confusion, shaking his head and turning his attention back to Star who had slid her hand into Steve’s back pocket.

“You gonna stay with me? I don’t wanna be alone.” he heard her whine as they walked out the door. Eddie didn’t hear Steve’s reply but he could certainly hear the blood rushing in his ears with jealousy.

So the next day she sat with them at lunch. Eddie was surprised but from a lifetime of hiding his emotions he didn’t give away anything at first. She tried to talk to him, fleeting moments of eye contact as he’d lower them to the table and give her sharp, short answers. He could see her hair hadn’t been washed that morning or the night before, he saw the way it lay flatter in the back because she’d slept on her back. Or had she been on her back for other reasons? He took in every inch of skin he could, any mark of redness or bruise pulling his attention and fueling his delusion that she’d slept with Steve. There was a red splotch on her neck, it wasn’t like the ones he’d left on her before but his mind wasn’t listening to reason. He was fuming, grinding his teeth down to nothing. Star could feel the anger coming from him now, assuming it was from her. The conversation kept moving among the other people at the table.

“I don’t know, I’ll ask Steve after school, I couldn’t get ahold of him last night.” Eddie’s eyes shot to Dustin, snapping the pretzel he had in his fingers.

“He was with me,” Star said casually and Eddie wondered if she was crueler than he had ever imagined she could be.

“Oh, did he say anything about this weekend?”

“No, sorry. Not that I remember anyway. But we weren’t really talking about him taking you all to the movies so I doubt it.”

“What were you talking about then?” Eddie hide his emotion, looking down as he asked then a pointed swing up as he saw Star turn her head with hopeful eyes that were matched with his, black with anger.

“We-uh.” she stuttered at the surprise of the question, and more so the fact that he was speaking to her directly at all.

“Or were you two not doing much talking?” he accused and she tilted her head in confusion. Everyone felt the wave of anger now, looking at Eddie with the same expression.

“I don’t-? I was…” she huffed, her cheeks turning red. “I didn’t wanna talk about it but I was drunk and he took me home,” she confessed, looking down, her hands fidgeting. She was ashamed. She looked at him defensively, turning in on herself, feeling hurt from his stinging accusation. Dustin glared at Eddie.

“Dude,” Jeff said sympathetically to Star at Eddie’s tone.

“Why are you talking to her like that?”

“If you’re so sore-assed about it maybe you should’ve taken her home.” Gareth, a surprising voice of reason caught Eddie’s attention as they stared each other down. No one knew exactly what had happened, they only knew Eddie was being a dick this week.

“Thankfully Steve was there to take care of me last night,” she said looking down, gathering her things as Dustin reached to stop her but she shook her head. “You’d be surprised what a little support and kindness would make a girl wanna do.” She stared right into Eddie's eyes as she stood. She was seething with anger. She wanted him to hurt, wanted him to think his friends had scorned him by sleeping together. She walked away with her tray and Eddie was left to be gawked at.

So naturally, the next question Eddie asked Steve when he went to Family Video the next day was direct and full of venom.

“Are you fucking her?” He almost growled at an unsuspecting Steve in the empty store. His eyes blinked rapidly, his hands raising between him and the glaring man across the counter.

“Woah, Woah. What?” Steve sputtered out.

“Don’t play stupid, sweetheart. I know you well enough to know you aren't.”

“That’s the weirdest compliment I’ve ever gotten,” Steve said bewildered.

“Stop avoiding the question.”

“No!” Steve shouted, now moving into being offended. “What the hell, man? You think I’d sleep with Star? Now? You’re off your meds, man. Don’t be crazy.”

“I saw her all over you at the bar.”

“She was drunk. You saw her. You know how she gets. She’s very friendly.” his nose wrinkled at the underselling of Star’s physical affection needs when intoxicated.

“And she’s pissed at me. Plenty of reasons to try it with you. I know she wants to fuck you. It’s the perfect storm to fuck me over.”

“Calm down,” Steve said in a drawn-out deep voice, leaning on the counter. “We didn’t do anything like that. I took her home, and all she did was cry over you.” he shook his head, his hair bobbing at the force.

Eddie blinked and leaned back in response.

“You think I’d sleep with her knowing you loved her? Good to know you think so highly of me, shit.” he leaned back and crossed his arms.

“I-” Eddie shook his head and put his hands to his face. “I’m sorry, Steve. Fuck.” he groaned. “I accused her at lunch and she-”

“You didn’t.” Steve groaned, his chin leaning forward “You idiot! Why would you do that!” he shook his hands at the run-down looking man across the counter.

“I don’t know. I’m all messed up. I saw her all over you and I saw red, man. I’m sorry.”

“All she did was sling snot and blubber on about how much she loved you but she couldn’t say it because what if she fucked it all up? What if she’s a terrible person and you find out and leave her? And you go and accuse her of sleeping with me? No offense but- you know, NO, FULL offense that’s bullshit!” Steve was angry on his behalf as well as Star’s now.

“I see that now,” Eddie muttered and hit his head on the counter in front of him.

“Get your shit together man, Jesus.” Steve scowled. “Go talk to her. Apologize. Don't be a dick. She’d never do that to you. I can’t believe you��d think that. And about me! I thought we were friends!”

“We are! I’m sorry. Old habits die hard.”

“You’d gonna die alone with your old habits if you don’t stop being such a stubborn jackass.” Steve pointed out, leaning down to Eddie’s mushed face on the counter.

“I know I hurt her, I thought she was trying to hurt me. I know she used to-”

“Yeah. USED TO. She even said that. That before she would’ve tried. To distract herself for a minute with someone else. But she wouldn’t anymore because of you. That she didn’t want to take a step back or hurt you. She was already upset she got so drunk.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck… you.” Steve said with a joking tone but there was truth behind it.

“Yeah, fuck me.” Edie groaned and hit his head a few times on the counter.

“Stop that shit. Someone’s gonna come in and 5150 you.” he shoved Eddie’s shoulder and he stood up.

“The Van Halen album?” Eddie asked, a bit dazed.

“Did you hit your head that hard?”

“Sorry I-”

“The more you say that the less it means you know.” Steve glared.

“What?”

“Sorry doesn't mean shit if it doesn’t come with changed behavior.”

“You sound like her.”

“Good! Because she’s smart! She’s trying to get better despite you being a baby and saying you were done with her because she couldn’t say she loved you back.”

“Wouldn’t you wanna hear it?” Eddie hit his hands on the counter, the weight of them making a heavy sound.

“Of course! But when she tells you she can’t because she’s afraid she’ll fuck everything up and then YOU go and leave, proving her right…what does that accomplish? Nothing! You need to see how much she loves you. She needs to be brave enough to say it and not think everything is gonna go to hell when she does. You’re both wrong and you’re both right.”

“I have the right to want to hear it from her. I’m not wrong.”

“That isn’t wrong, no. It’s how you’re going about it.”

“I deserve to hear it. I said she has to say it for me to be able to keep doing whatever it is we’re doing. I’m not even asking her to be my girlfriend, I just want to hear her say it.” Steve sighed, seeing the circles under Eddie’s eyes and the hurt behind them. He was just as sensitive as anyone else. So much for the whole macho tough routine. “If I don’t stick to my guns, then nothing I say means anything.”

“Yeah, you’re stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn, I’m sticking to what I said.”

“Dude! That’s THE definition of stubborn.”

“Ugh!” Eddie threw his arms up. “It’s like everyone’s gone crazy this week.”

“If everyone around you is an asshole…. Chances are you’re the asshole.” Steve said with a lecturing face.

“I’m not the asshole here. Neither is she. I’m stating what I need from her. That’s it. That doesn’t make me the bad guy.”

“It doesn’t… not.” Steve bobbed his head side to side in thought. Eddie stared with a deadpan expression back at him. “Look, you’re asking her to do the one thing she can’t. That’s the issue. If you can't get past that then you need to tell her and drop it. End it. Completely.”

“But I love her, I don’t want to lose her.”

“You can’t have both.”

“Yes, I can. She’ll say it.”

“At least stop being an asshole to her in the meantime then? Just treat her like she’s your friend.”

“I can’t. If I’m around her I'll give in. I can’t act like she’s just my friend anymore I don’t know what that feels like. I’ve loved her for months now and I don’t know how to act.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“Now you’re being a dick.” he grumped at Steve.

“Yeah. That was me being a little bit of a dick.” Steve grinned. "Cut me some slack I’m stuck in the middle of you two. It’s not fun for you? Imagine how much it sucks for me to have to hear you both bitching and moaning?”

“Nothing about this is fun.”

“No shit,” Steve said sarcastically. “Love hurts, man. It sucks. It’s also the best thing that exists. It’s…” he sighed.

“Yeah. I know what you mean now.”

“First time, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie grumbled.

“I don’t have any happy metaphor for you man. My first love ended in flames. I won’t bullshit you.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Then don’t accuse me of sleeping with your…girlfriend…person situation.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, you should be.” Eddie sulked. “You’re a good guy.” Steve slapped his arm. “But even good guys can be assholes sometimes.”

“Not an asshole.”Eddie lilted, raising his head, his mood lighter but not chipper by any means.

“You’re not… not an asshole.” Steve clarified.

Thursday was awkward. Eddie felt like an idiot after what he’s said the day before. But Star braved his misplaced anger and sat with them anyway. If anything, she could use spite to be brave even if she was still hurt and sad. Eddie was apologetic with his eyes. They didn’t say much, but the intensity was certainly more tolerable. The group conversation flowed with no issue this time, Eddie answering like a sane person and Star doing the same. They exchanged a few words and kept it civil. She felt hopeful.

At the end of the day when Star shut her locker, she jumped at the appearance of Eddie after the door moving gave away his approach.

“Shit!” she squeaked and grabbed her bag. “You scared me,” she said, looking down immediately.

“I didn’t mean to,” he muttered, hands shoved into his pockets.

She stood with her face downward, fingers picking at the yarn in the strap of her bag, her eyes turned upward to meet his. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t know what to say.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday. At lunch.”

“Okay.” she nodded slowly, eyes wandering again.

“I saw you two in town that night and you looked… awfully cozy together.” he groaned out, eyes now losing their bravery as he too looked away.

“I was drunk. You know how I get,” she answered quietly, but the tone wasn’t lost on Eddie’s ears. I was drunk because of you, is what she’d wanted to add.

“Yeah.” he kicked at the linoleum floor with his sneaker.

“We didn’t do anything. Not that you’d have any right to be mad at us if we did." Eddie tilted his head and his nose twitched.

“I think I would have the right,” he muttered.

“You essentially told me to fuck off,” she stated plainly. “Or do you not remember storming out and saying you were done with my bullshit?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s burnt into my memory because I’ve been crying about it for days, I’m pretty fucking sure that’s what you said.” she hissed back.

“Then that’s not what I meant! Okay?” he said back with the same defensive attitude she had.

“Then what did you mean?” the snarky attitude she was giving him wasn’t helping their situation.

“I meant…” he lowered his voice. “That whenever you were ready to give me the validation I needed to hear that I’m here. I didn’t mean I’m done with you, like, totally. I..” he groaned and sighed. “I love you, I don’t want you being with anyone else,” he mumbled, eyes paranoid and seeing if anything else was around to hear. “I meant I was done with… that conversation. There was no point in fighting more about it. It wouldn’t have helped.” he added with his exhaustion showing through.

“And I still can’t give you that,” she said entirely annoyed with herself and the situation, but Eddie took it for her not caring. He felt like a dagger had been shoved in between his 4th and 5th rib. “I’m sorry,” she added quietly. “I’m… trying,” she whispered, less angry as she saw the hurt in his body language. “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never done this… felt this before. I’m not... equipped to deal with this level of shit.”

“So what we have is shit now?” he blurted out.

“No.” she whimpered, “You know that’s not what I meant.” she huffed and closed her eyes.

“That’s what you just said.” he bit back.

“Shit as in the overwhelming amount of emotions I’m having. Everything little fucking thing is triggering the hell out of me!” she admitted with a crack in her voice.

Eddie didn’t say anything, he sighed in response. They stood in painful silence for a moment.

“Well, I’m gonna go. This clearly isn’t going anywhere. I wanted to say sorry for accusing you of sleeping with Steve. And I did. What I said still stands. When you want to give this a real try, and man up to how you feel then come talk to me. Otherwise…we’re just going to argue.” he threw his hands up.

She didn’t respond as he turned and walked away. She felt the exhaustion hit her all over again. She missed him so much. She missed how he used to bring her comfort and not pain. She was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. Something had to give.

Star was dehydrated she’d cried so much. She thinks if she tried again dust might come out of her eyes. She was drained. So she did what she knew, and sat at her kitchenette, her cards in her hands.

“Alright. Hit me with it.” she sighed.

The Star reversed slapped onto the table.

Star let out the first laugh she’d had since the argument.

“Yeah.” she let out a deep breath. “Fuck me, right?” she snorted and chuckled, rubbing her face. “Okay… Two card pull here.“ She says aloud, another shuffle. “If I tell him I’m in love with him. If I let myself be vulnerable enough to very likely fucking up... What’s gonna happen?”

The Lovers.

Star rolls her eyes and pulls another card.

10 of cups.

“If I had a dollar every time I pulled that when I asked you about him.”

“Then maybe you should fucking listen, you dumb bitch.” She heard in her head and laughed again.

“It’s too good to be true though. But… every time.” she tapped the 10 of cups card. “Is he really it?” she whispered, holding up The Lovers card. “Did you really send me a soul mate?” her face was sad, tired at even the thought of the effort it’d take for her to digest such a weighted statement. “Okay, so if I don’t tell him? At this point... why pull these? You’re going to hand my ass to me.” she slapped down a card.

Two of swords.

“Yeah, no shit.” she cringed.

Five of cups.

“Ugh.” she leaned away from the table, concerned. “Fuck.” she frowned and looked around as if something was going to jump out at her. “Tell me how you really feel.” she slumped back in the booth. She lovingly put the cards that had just rode her hard and put her up wet into their velvet holder. She sat, elbows on the table, chin on her hands, looking out the window. She wasn’t being left with a choice. Not if she was going to grow and change. What Eddie had said had hurt. Deeply. She wasn’t denying that there was truth to it though. How long was she going to stay like this? She wasn’t happy. It wasn’t working. And according to the cards she’d handed a gift she was shunning. So of course her life was going to shit. She had to adjust. She’d extend the olive branch, she’d figure out how to tell him. Somehow.

So then came Friday. She wore her Hellfire shirt, the same as the rest of them and Eddie was visibly tense. More so than usual before a session. She could feel it coming off him from where he sat at the table adjacent to her. Lunch was civil enough again. She hoped he wasn’t as angry as he had been the previous afternoon. She stopped him, waiting him out to be the last two to leave the table.

“Eddie?” she asked, his back facing her as he was walking away. His eyes screwed shut at the way she said his name. Man, he missed that.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning, his shoulder shifting with anxiety.

“I just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to Hellfire tonight,” she said with a subtle smile.

“You are?” he met her eyes, surprised.

“Yeah. I was looking forward to it as a distraction at the least. I’m sure you’ve come up with something brutal. Plenty of… fuel for that sort of thing.” she laughed nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I’ve put a lot of time into it this week,” he confirmed with a small nod.

“I was looking forward to seeing you too.” she offered, losing her nerve halfway through the sentence and looking away.

“Yeah?” a hint of hope in his upturned voice.

“Yeah.” she nodded chewing her lips. “I mean, it’s weird not seeing you. Talking to you.” she quietly added.

“Yeah.” was all he was managing to say. “I’ll see you tonight then.” he nodded and turned away. It wasn’t the warmest of interactions but it helped fuel Star’s optimism.

So she showed up early to Hellfire. She hoped to extend that olive branch. To show him she was trying. She wanted so badly to move past whatever this was that they were stuck in. If could just get through to him she was certain things could get closer to normal.

“Hey,” she said with bright eyes and a hesitant smile as Eddie was putting out the grid and making his control center.

“H-hey,” he said looking around, then to his watch seeing she was early. He hadn’t expected her to be early or alone.

“I thought I’d come early to talk.” she hesitantly stepped farther into the room. “Is that okay?”

“I mean… you’re doing it so…” he shrugged, anxious about her appearance. He saw the dejected look on her face at his response.

“I was hoping I could maybe… extend an olive branch, you know? I hate this weird disconnect, this animosity between us. I know it’s not good for anything, especially the campaign.”

“Yeah I’d been thinking about that.” he stood still and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wanted to say that I get where you’re coming from, you know? I was hoping you had had time to think and see things from my point of view too. So maybe we could go back to talking to each other like…not like we used to but more like normal.”

“Star…” he sighed, and rest his hands on the table in front of him. “I said what I said. If you’re not ready, I can’t.” he saw the lump in her throat, and the shine in her eyes grow.

“I’m trying to meet you halfway. I’m trying. I want you to see that I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t doing, sweetheart.” he shook his head.

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, wiping away a tear before it fell. “Not like that.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” he said in an exhale.

“That’s good to know because it feels that way,” she admitted with a soft laugh, rolling her eyes and sniffling. “You have to try to do. And you being so cold and distant is making it harder. I can’t respond with love when I don’t feel it back.”

“You’ve been feeling it for months. It’s there. It’s just... I’m having a hard time too.” he admitted.

“Then we could make it easier on each other by trying to be normal again.” she offered with upturned hands.

“I can’t do that, Star.” he rubbed his face. “I’ll go back on what I said if I do.”

“And that’s SO terrible?” she snapped, covering her face after the outburst to hide the way it contorted with a building sob. “It’s so hard to see you and not be able to be myself,” she whispered, sniffling.

“Then maybe you should go?” he said calmly, his eyes sad as he looked up to find hers full of tears. “We’re both still emotional about this and I don’t want it to affect the session. It’s not fair to everyone else.”

“You don't want me in Hellfire?” her voice broke and her lip quivered.

“I mean you’re crying already and we’re not even fighting. It’s going to make you play poorly. It’ll distract me. Maybe sit this out until you figure your shit out?” he shrugged.

“Y-” she choked and stopped, looking away. “Fine.” she bit back, tears now proud on her cheeks. “I don’t see how I’m supposed to want to be with you when you’re picking this game over me.” she motioned to the table.

“Star, That’s not-”

“If you say that’s not what you mean one more time I’m going to fucking scream.” she hissed in a loud whisper. “Start saying what you mean instead of backtracking and maybe we could get somewhere!” she said fists balled and shaking.

“Maybe you should take your own advice,” he said back, his exterior so calm it made her infuriated. She said nothing, a huff, and a choked sound left her as she turned her heel and ran.

She sobbed in the girl's bathroom. She couldn’t control it. She’d run out of the theatre, and into the far wall of the bathroom where she slid down it into a lump on the floor.

Eddie hit the large wooden table so hard he worried he’d hurt his hands. He hadn’t meant to be so angry still. He was so cold. Too cold. She was trying but he couldn’t meet her in the middle. All he had was his word, and if he went back on what he said he’d do then his word would be nothing. He slammed himself into the throne, covering his face and groaning into his hands.

Dustin and his insatiable curiosity followed the sound of crying into the girl's bathroom. He hadn’t expected to find Star there, hiccuping as she was crying so hard. She met his eyes as he appeared, lip trembling before a cry broke from her throat, a wail that quietened only when she shoved her face into her sweater to dampen the sound.

“Holy shit, Star. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he ran, sliding on his knees on the tile floor toward her.

“No.” she sobbed.

“Do I need to call an ambulance? The police? I’ll go get Eddie.” he began to rise and her hand shot to jerk him back into the floor so fast he was startled.

“No.” she said, wiping her face and raising her head. “He’s why I’m crying.”

“What’d he do? I’ll kick his ass.” he meant it and it broke Star out of her self-hating cycle.

“It’s my fault too.” she shook her head.

“I’ve never seen you like this, man. This isn’t normal. This seems like his fault.” he put his hand on her arm.

“We had a fight.”

“Oh.” he grimaced.

“Yeah.” she let out a wild-sounding laugh. “He kicked me out of Hellfire,” she said, looking at him and trying to stop her sobbing.

“He fucking WHAT?” he shouted.

“I tried to make amends. But he didn’t wanna hear it. He told me if I wasn’t there to apologize and do what he said that I shouldn’t come back. That me being there was too much of a distraction for him.”

“Eddie said that? Shit.”

“I fucked up, Dustin.” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Nothing could warrant him kicking you out of Hellfire.”

“Maybe it does.” she shifted and leaned against the wall, her eyes far away and unfocused.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know if he’d want me to say.”

“C’mon. Let me help.” his eyes were so kind, and his hand was so warm and comforting as he rubbed her arm. Star took a deep breath.

“He told me he loved me. But I couldn’t say it back. Even though I do. With the parole thing and the abuse from before I just… I’m having a really hard time. He got mad and told me I was a coward. And he’s right.” her lashes fluttered and she sniffled, wiping her face. “He told me he was done. Until I was ready to say it back he didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“He’s being a fucking asshole,” Dustin stated plainly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“He’s right though. It happened over the weekend and I’ve been thinking a lot you know. And I thought that by coming here tonight I could start to make amends. But he…” her lip trembled and she whined, wiping her face again. “Don’t tell him any of that, please. I don’t want him more mad at me.” she grabbed Dustin's jacket and looked desperately into his eyes.

“I won't. I won’t. Don’t worry. I’m going to talk to him though.”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe I could do it you know. Stop listening to my ex’s voice in my head and maybe I could be with someone. Maybe I was worthy of it. But now he’s making me feel like I was right all along. That I’m not. Why can’t I just fucking say it back? It makes me feel like the world’s gonna end if I do. I hate it so much.” another sob grew.

“Star you’re a badass.” Dustin grabbed her face and shook it, her eyes went large from surprise. “You’re great. You’re a good person, you’re a great friend. I know you’d be a great girlfriend. You practically are Eddie’s girlfriend already. He’s just being a dick right now and I’m sorry. He’s a sensitive guy. I think he’s just acting out because he’s hurt too. But he needs to realize he’s not the boss. He can’t just demand things from you.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled from squished cheeks. “He was really mean tonight.” she whimpered.

“You should go home. I’ll talk to him. You shouldn’t have to be here while you’re this upset.”

“Okay,” she said meekly and it broke Dustin’s heart. She truly was defeated.

“Is there anything you want me to say to him? I can relay a message since he wasn’t willing to listen to you. I’ll make him fuckin’ listen.” he said angrily.

“Yeah I made him some things,” she muttered and dug through her bag. Dustin's shoulders slumped, seeing the formerly strong girl broken down to next to nothing in front of him. “I mean you can have it.” she handed a large cookie to Dustin, wrapped in plastic cling film. “It’s his favorite,” she whispered.

“It’s a D20.” Dustin grinned, hard icing tracing out numbers on its surface.

“I thought it was cute. He likes the hard icing.” she swallowed audibly. “I thought if I made him something he’d see I cared.” her bottom lip trembled.

“I’m so sorry he was such a dick.” Dustin looks at her with pity and she hated it but she needed it.

“I know.” she nodded, wiping her face and sitting up straight. “I also made him this but I wanted to give it to him myself. I don’t know if he’ll talk to me.” she shook her head and held out a cassette. “Don’t open it. There’s a letter inside for him. It’s… personal.”

“I won’t. Promise,” he says holding her hands as she extended it to him. “I’ll make him take it. And promise me he’ll read it. Okay? It’ll be okay.” he promised her with a nod and crooked smile.

“Thanks, Dustin. I don’t know that I deserve all this but thank you.”

“Don’t listen to him right now. He’s just hurt. He’s a stubborn dick when he’s got his feelings hurt.” Dustin rolled his eyes. “You go home and rest okay? I’ll handle this.”

“Thanks. You’re a really good guy. A really great friend. I mean it.”

“Shush, I know.” he grinned and stood, holding his hand out to help her up. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“What’s your fucking problem you absolute dick head?” Dustin strutted into the Hellfire Club chest first.

“Excuse you?” Eddie said with high brows.

“He kicked Star out of Hellfire.” he stood and declared it to the group, jerking his seat back and not taking his eyes off Eddie. He wanted him to be publicly shamed.

“You what?”

“What the fuck dude?”

“She was really good!” all came in a chorus of annoyed members.

“Shut up!” Eddie screeched and everyone leaned away, surprised. “That’s not what happened. You shouldn’t be throwing around accusations when you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie gritted through clenched teeth.

“I do know. I just talked to her. I found her crying in the bathroom because of you, you asshole.” Dustin was pissed, and Mike was side-eyeing him, impressed and also scared at what Eddie might do. “She came here trying to make amends.” he raised his voice at the glaring man opposite him at the other end of the table, now standing with his hands on the table. Dustin looked at the group. “They had a big fight over the weekend, that’s why she’s been so weird and Eddie’s been such a pain in the ass,” he announced to the other members, meeting their eyes as they nodded and groaned, now understanding. “She brought you this.” she tossed the cookie down the table and it slid to a stop in front of Eddie. “But you were too busy being mean for her to give it to you.” It split on impact, and he looked just as sorry as he felt at that moment. “It’s your favorite.” Dustin spits out.

“Did she tell you what happened?” he asked, now less boisterous. Eyes not leaving the rifted cookie.

“No. She said you fought. She wanted to respect your privacy even after you were a grade-A piece of shit to her tonight.” He crossed his arms. The exact comment hit Eddie like a knife. That’s what he’d called her ex. That’s what he said he wasn’t. Shit. “I’m here to play. But this isn’t over. I’m talking to you after this.” he pointed his finger angrily at Eddie.

“She would’ve been a distraction from the campaign.”

“C’mon.” Gareth, to everyone's surprise, groaned. “So you and your girlfriend had a fight. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it.” Gareth gave a much-needed pushback to Eddie’s stubborn stance. “She’s a member of this party. We get a say in who comes and goes. You’re the DM, you aren’t God.” he sassed back and Eddie blinked with a blank face. “I’m here to play too. But this is about D and D, not your feelings.”

“Okay then. She can come back next session.” Eddie raised his hands in defeat.

“If she’ll come back.” Jeff says with a more subtle lecturing look toward Eddie.

“If she doesn’t I’m gonna be so pissed at you, dude,” Gareth says with a shake of his head. “Her stats were just getting good,” he mumbled.

“Fine!” he slapped the table to break the subject. “Let’s get this fucking going.” he said loudly as he plopped back into his throne.

The session was fine, Eddie went a little too hard on them but no one fought him about it. They understood why.

Dustin sat in his chair with his arms crossed, waiting for everyone else to clear out.

“So?” he says with a sassy bob of his head. “Since when do you make girls cry, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to. Not really. I might’ve gone a little too hard on her.” he said, sitting on the tabletop beside the judging younger guy.

“A little? She was hiccuping on the bathroom floor from crying so hard. That’s not you being “a little too hard” on her.” Dustin scowled and use air quotes.

“I couldn’t have her here tonight. I wouldn’t be able to think straight. I’m a fucking mess about all this. Is that what you want to hear?”

“YES!” he screeched, his arms going up in the air. “Maybe if you’d brought this kind of honesty, to begin with we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” Eddie rolled his eyes and slumped, his hands on the edge of the table by his thighs. “Look, she gave me this,” he said pulling out a cassette and Eddie’s brow lowered in surprise and hesitation. “I told her I’d give it to you and I told her I’d make you promise to listen to it. She said there’s a letter in it.” he held it out and Eddie took it, looking it over. “She’s really sorry. I’ve never seen her like that, man she was fucked up over you. She really loves you, Eddie.” Eddies eyes snapped to Dustin's.

“She said that?” his voice gave away a certain desperation.

“Yes.” Dustin leaned forward and nodded.

“Then she should say it to me. Why is she saying it to you?” he deflected again, back to brooding.

“Well, she’s not in love with me so I don’t think those two things are comparable.” Dustin snarked.

“I just want her to tell me,” he whispered and Dustin softened his approach.

“She would if you’d give her the chance. She said some super depressing stuff about her ex. She’s still really messed up from that, you know.”

“And how long am I supposed to just wait and act like I’m not in pain every time I’m around her? Huh? It physically hurts to be around her I love her so much.” he gritted out, still looking angry despite the soft subject. “And I know she loves me. She did everything but say it when she was drunk. She even said she feels it but can’t say it. What the fuck does that even mean?” he groaned and hung his head.

“I think you’re being selfish,” Dustin said calmly.

“What the fuck, man? Are you hear to make me feel like shit or talk about this?”

“I’m not trying to, you feel guilty and you’re feeling that way all on your own.” he said with a confident turn up of his chin. Eddie turned away and glared at nothing in particular.

“What if I am? Don’t I have the right to? I’ve been the dirty little secret for most of my love life, do I not deserve to hear it if it’s true now? I feel like she’s being selfish by not saying it to me. Because she knows it’s true. She’s being a baby about it.”

“You’re in so deep you don’t even know it.” Dustin chuckled.

“What?”

“You’re in love bad. You’re getting possessive. That’s how being in love goes bad. You think you’re entitled to something from her. You know better.” Eddie glared, unhappy with the truth coming from the little shitty sage. “You’re acting just like one of these assholes that bully us.”

“That is NOT fucking fair.”

“I think if you were honest with yourself you’d agree.” Dustin stood, leaving Eddie to sulk. “Maybe do that meditation stuff she talks about. Really think about it. Listen to what she has to say.” he motioned toward the cassette. “Maybe what you want is right there.” he shrugged, grabbing his bag.

“Unless it’s a recording of her saying she loves me back it’s not.”

“Quit being such a stickler for rules. I can’t believe I’m saying that to you.” he rolled his eyes.

“I said what I needed. I’m sticking to my word!” he said with a pointed finger.

“Rules are made to be broken, man. What can I say? Think of it this way, would you withhold affection from an abused dog?”

“That’s a messed up comparison, Henderson,” he said feeling defensive of Star.

“No! Hear me out. A stray shows up and it’s scared right, it's clearly been abused by someone before. Do you get mad when the dog snaps or cries or runs away? No. You understand that it has to learn that YOU won’t hurt it. YOU have to be in control and not get mad and hit it when it snaps or growls. You have to be patient with it.” he chopped his hands at Eddie. “Star had a bad owner before. He taught her she was bad and wrong and to expect to be hit. And how are you fixing that point of view for her right now by doing this?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Is it not?” Dustin said with a low brow, his head tilted and a tone full of disappointment. “You show her you love her by loving her, dude. It’s that simple. You can't demand she all of the sudden open up after she’s been told that opening up is the worst thing that she could do. Do you get it? She’s scared. That’s why she was such a tough nut to crack when she first showed up. You see how much she’s changed. If you’d keep supporting her like you have, she’ll be able to change. Just like she has with other stuff.”

Eddie looked away, not knowing what to say because he knew the child genius was right.

“It’s Psych 101 man.” Dustin continued to rub salt into the wound with his words.

“Okay! Fine. I get it. Shit, man.”

“No shame in being wrong. You can apologize,” he said walking back towards the door. “I’m looking forward to telling you I told you so!” he called out as he walked out of the room.

Eddie snarled, his nose wrinkled as he glared at the cassette. He put it in his bag and went on to put away everything else before heading home.

The tape mocked him that next day. He went to band practice, ran errands, and ignored it. He was now mad at himself and not just her. He smoked himself stupid and fell asleep. If he’d had more money he would’ve added some drinking to the mix. He hadn’t felt so emotionally drained in years.

He woke up sweaty, Wayne was already asleep, back from work in the living room. The sounds of the first frogs he’d heard since summer ended were croaking in the puddles around the trailer park. He shut his window, taking his comforter with him across the room. He sat back down on his bed and his bag sat there looking back at him.

“Okay.” he sighed and stood, still dramatic even alone. “Let’s do this.”

He took his portable radio and sat with it on the bed, plugging his headphones into it. He opened the cassette with its pink broken heart on the front and a letter, folded up tumbled out. He saw the label on the cassette, C120, and became more interested. This was two full hours of music. She’d put work into this. What he didn’t know was that she’d been working on it for days, from the time she got home to her falling asleep listening to the radio for inspiration. She’d put her heart and soul into the flimsy plastic rectangle.

He snapped the tape in and unfolded the sheet of paper. One side was simply a tracklist. It was written out beautifully in ink, he’d always admired how pretty her handwriting was with its loops and leans. The other side was a simple message.

“We know I’m not good at saying these things. The songs can say it better than I ever could. Listen to the lyrics. Please. I hope they tell you all you need to know.”

Another chunky square had fallen out of the squeezed-in paper. He dug around it, unfolding the intricate bends. He saw a flash of orange. He pulled out the Get Out Of Jail Free Card he’d given her. He cracked a smile, feeling a hint of tears in his eyes. He’d practically forgotten. On the inside of the paper around it, concealing it until he took he time to open it was also simply stated.

“Forgive me.”

He sighed, looking at the card, he put it to his mouth, tapping it against his lips in thought. It even smelled like her. He wondered where she’d been keeping it all this time. He had to play by the rules of the card. He had to forgive her. She’d held onto his silly little gift and remembered it this whole time. He owed her for the sentimentality it showed in the gesture. She really did love him, didn’t she?

Eddie clicked the tape on, mouth dry and fingers fidgeting on the edges of the paper. Looking over the track list it was apparent that this mix was not for him. It wasn’t music catering to him, it wasn’t metal or thrash or a collection of songs he liked. It was all songs that were distinctly Star. He could feel her in the choices. First, a gut punch of nostalgia with Fleetwood Mac. He recalled her singing and dancing, how he’d spent so much time learning new songs just for her. And she was always appreciative of each one. Even if he didn’t quite get every chord just right. A throwback to an evening with Wayne with her favorite Dion song.Then Maggie May. She memorized every song and every emotion attached. He felt a little nauseous, she had remembered. She’d remembered that post-Valentine’s night this whole time. Moving out of nostalgia he listened to songs that spoke to him directly in the lyrics. Stumblin’ In, Right Down the Line, I Saw the Light. They all told him what he needed to hear. He sat there, unmoving for hours. He rewound and listened to some over, he read her letter again. He finally laid back, Otis Redding in his ears. He looked to the window and the sun was up, he didn’t even know for how long. He stared at the stain on his ceiling, hand to his chest, hearing Star tell him how much she truly did love him through someone else’s words.

“But it seemed so natural darling, that you and I are here. Just talking over cigarettes and drinking coffee. And oh, my whole heart cried out love at last I’ve found you. And honey won't you just let me build my whole life around you?” he let the tears fall. Finally. The warm brass sounds pulled them out of him. He wiped them away, but not denying their existence this time. He sat up, switching off the tape, his ears suddenly cold from being housed in his headphones for hours. He put the papers in his bedside table, somewhere to keep them safe and close to his other prized possessions. He snapped the tape back into the case and put it into his bag. He stretched and took a deep breath, shaking off the anger he’d felt before. He had to go to her. He‘d forgive her and he could take it slow. Music was a love language for Eddie. It was also Star’s. By showing him in a way he could hear and feel, she’d been able to get through to him. He could feel she did love him. There couldn’t be lyrics like that that resonated with her if she didn’t love him. For her, he would try to be patient. He would apologize. He’d probably have to beg and maybe deservedly so. For her, he’d do anything.

Eddie had jumped into the shower, leaving without a word to Wayne, speeding to Star’s house with the tape in the console. To his dismay, she wasn’t there. No one was. Everything was locked and shut. He took the key he had, and let himself in her trailer, there was an old suitcase out, and a letter on the countertop.

“Shit. That’s tomorrow,” he whispered. The parole hearing. “Fuck.” he shouted out in frustration. They’d left early. He’d missed her. Being back in her space made the last words he’d said there smack him in the face. He’d promised her he’d be there for her for that. He felt another wave of nausea. “Oh god I really am an asshole.” he whispered.

Wayne was awake when Eddie returned, another morning just like the last, sipping his coffee on the front porch. He was no stranger to Eddie driving like a maniac. But Eddie leaping from the van and stumbling up the stairs was new.

“You okay?”

“I'm going to Chicago.” he said before disappearing into the house.

“What in the Sam Hill?” Wayne muttered as he followed him inside. “Now?” he followed Eddie to his bedroom, dumping the school contents of his backpack onto the bed and shoving things he’d need for a long drive in. “I didn’t think ya’ll would head out until later, maybe leave before dawn tomorrow.”

“Yeah, neither did I. I’ve been so caught up in being mad at her that I forgot. I didn’t forget I just… I didn’t think about it.”

“So that’s why she’s not been here and you’ve been sulking.” he nodded and took a drink.

“Yeah. We had a big fight. And she wrote me a really sweet letter and apologized and I’m seeing that I’m the asshole in this situation.” he shook his head, scoffing at himself. “I didn’t get it until this morning and I went to her place to apologize and she’s gone. So… I’m going to Chicago.”

“Do you know where to go?”

“I know the name of the prison. I can figure it out.”

“I'll grab a map.” Wayne said, calm amongst Eddie’s chaos. Eddie soon bound into the living room with his bag on his shoulder. “Here.” he handed Eddie a folded-up map. “Just in case.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back sometime Monday afternoon I think. I’ll call if I need to.”

“Take this too,” he said with a fatherly tone, holding out a 50-dollar bill to him. Eddie stared at it for a moment.

“No way, that’s too much. I don’t need that.”

“Take it.” he shook it at him.

“No, that’s too much Wayne, I’ve got gas money, I’m fine.” he insisted. Wayne took it and shoved it into his boy’s pocket.

“You say thank you when people give you things, Eddie. I raised you better than that.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s better.” he grinned and fixed Eddie’s collar. “Mind your manners when you find her, alright?”

“I will.” he nodded. “I”m gonna fix this. I’m gonna come back with her. It’ll be okay. It’ll work. Like you said. Me and her we’re… we’re supposed to be together.”

“C’mere.” Wayne said bringing him in for a hug. Eddie felt small in his father figure’s arms. They didn’t NOT hug, but it wasn’t a daily occurrence by any means. Eddie hugged him back, slow on the draw. Wayne pat his back. “You’re a good man. You’ll figure it out. Plenty of time on the drive to figure out how to beg her forgiveness.” he grinned at him, pulled away, and slapped his shoulder supportively.

“Yeah. Lots of that.”

“You be careful.” he wagged a finger at him. “And remember what I taught you about women. Don't make me look bad.” his tone was serious but he said it with a smile.

“I won’t let you down.” a promise to his uncle and himself.

“You never do.”

Eddie drove with Star’s tape blasting, shaking the metal of the van for hours. He cried, screamed, and talked to himself. The long hours of the highway gave him plenty of time to playback everything everyone around him had been saying. He could eat the I told you so’s with a smile if it meant having her back and happy again. He hoped his ego hadn't done irreparable damage.

He drove for hours in the city, finding the prison then seeing the parking wasn’t 24 hours. So he went on another adventure to find overnight parking somewhere. He figured a parking garage with a security guard at the gate was the safest bet to not get carjacked. He took a short walk, some blocks to find a place to eat. He took it back to the van where he played her tape at a much lower volume in his portable stereo not wanting to drain the van battery too much. He ate what might’ve been the best pizza of his life and talked to himself for hours. He had a method to his madness. He practiced apologizing, going over what he might say when he saw her. He tried to cover every retort and response he could think of.

Star had one place in mind she wanted to go upon returning to Chicago. She was someone Star’s mom had liked. She was part of the reason her name was Star. Robbie waited outside, not willing to leave Star alone or get involved with any of her hippy-dippy shit. His words.

The place smelled like incense and years of cigarettes. It smelled like home to Star. Through beaded curtains and shimmery drapes, she walked down the floor of stairs and into the small business.

“Would it be to cliche to say I was expecting you?” An older woman with wise eyes and a welcoming demeanor sat at her small round table. The entire space was covered in jewel tones and occult paraphernalia. The neon sign with a palm and the word psychic across the top buzzed and gave a glow to the sacred space.

“Just a little.” Star smiled and was welcomed into the arms of the woman. She was someone she’d sought out during hard times for guidance, especially after her mom had passed. She was a big part of who Star was now.

“Are you okay? I thought you were running when you left? Oh, wait no don’t answer that. You know I like a challenge.” She said spiritedly with her long layers of skirts and shawls flowing with animated arms. “Is this business or pleasure?”

“Both as always.” Star sighed contently and sat in the worn thatch chair across from the whimsical woman.

“Do you want your cards?”

“No, I’ve been doing them a lot and they’ve been very rude.” Star chuckled.

“You’ve kept up your studies?” The woman perked up at the news.

“I’ve never been more into them.”

“But?”

“I still need guidance.”

“Are the cards not clear?”

“Too clear. I kinda wanted to see what my guides had to say. I’m not good at tuning into them and certainly not like you can.”

“They’re annoyed.” She laughed. “Proud and annoyed.”

“Can’t blame them. Things have been weird lately. I’ve been struggling.”

“They’ve been trying to take care of you.” She looked around the room at times and others shut her eyes. Star sat amidst a realm she couldn’t touch yet. “But you’re fighting it. They don’t like being ignored when they work so hard to reach out.”

“I should say it shouldn’t I?” A question vague enough for the woman to not know what she meant. But her guides did.

“A resounding yes.” She nodded. “I’m seeing… two things?” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she tried to see something more clearly. “Whatever these two things are they’re okay. Oh, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“Good news.”

“They’re showing me…” she held out her two hands as if she were weighing something. “A good thing and a bad thing. They’re not being very clear sorry.”

“Outcomes?”

“No.” She paused.

“Oh, men.” Star nodded. “A good man and a bad man.”

“They seem to be happy with that answer.” “One is being tossed over the shoulder and forgotten. The other..” she giggled. “The other they're acting like they’re kissing something in their hand.” Star laughed.

“Eddie.” She grinned.

��Oh, they like him.” The woman laughed. “Tell me more about this Eddie.” She leaned in like a gossip. “There’s a man in your life already? So soon.” She seemed happy but curious.

“I said the same. I thought he was too good to be true.”

“Smart girl.” She nodded her hand to her chin. “You can ask them about him. They’re open to it.” Star pondered for a moment.

“I know the cards have told me I should be with him. Soul connections and whatnot. We’ve channeled each other before. It’s very intense. Is that all true?”

“There’s a box with a bow. Like a Christmas present.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh! He’s a gift!” She laughed, amused.

“But am I the same for him? Or am I a lesson for him?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger but I’m being told to tell you to not be stupid.” Star snorted out a laugh.

“I’m trying.” She sighed. “So I should go against all my instincts and go balls deep, deep end of the pool with Eddie? Full in love and believing in soul mates and all that?” Star didn’t look convinced.

“Oh hello, darling.” The woman cooed. Star sensed she wasn’t talking to her. “Yes. Live the life I couldn’t.” The woman sighed. “She was always so sweet, wasn’t she? She loved you so much. Still sacrificing even now to give you good things.” Star softly smiled.

“I miss her.” Star pouted unintentionally.

“She knows.” a warm smile and nod from her mentor to ease her fear.

“I’ll do it for her, I’ll believe in fairy tales.” Star huffed out an uncomfortable laugh and wiped at her cheek.

“Believe in yourself.” The woman confidently said. “Open up your heart. That’s where your higher self is.”

“And becoming my highest self is the goal of this trip, this realm.”

“What scares you most shows you where you need to grow the most. You’re still cynical. For good reason, my dear but letting go of that and trusting the universe will care for you is the next step.”

“Hard to take the next step when you can’t see the stairs” Star sighed and stared at nothing.

“That’s why love is blind, sweetheart. You don’t have to see the stairs to know it’s there.”

Eddie set his watch for dawn, not knowing when to expect Star. So, he was going into the prison lot as the workers were. He parked out of the way, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Just being at a prison made him nervous. He thought the weird metal guy sitting in his van alone was suspicious enough, it’d be worse to stand at the gate and wait or be parked in the middle of everyone else and have them stare him down. Again, he waited hours.

9 am was the start of the parole hearings for the day. Like the prisoners, no one else knew when they would be called. So Eddie waited with burning eyes, watching the entry gate. Eventually, Robbie's truck pulled in. He saw him taking up a good portion of the cab and Star with her head against the window. Unlike the last time she had to speak in front of people she looked like herself today. He watched as they pulled in like him, a little out of the way. Eddie got out of the van. Taking a deep breath and then checking it to see just how bad it was. So a stick of gum was shoved into his mouth at the last second.

Star was feeling numb. Only because she was feeling so much she couldn’t compute it anymore. Robbie held her around her shoulders, half comforting and half making sure she didn’t run. She’d been so quiet the whole ride. The whole night in the hotel. She’d barely eaten and the one thing she missed the most about the city was the food.

Robbie saw Eddie before she did. Even his jaded heart lept a little at the site of the goofy guy. His hands were clenching and unclenching, slowly walking away from the entrance and toward them.

“Star?” Robbie said softly to not startle her.

“I’m fine.” She mumbled, still looking at the ground.

“Star.” he demanded again, this time in a deeper voice.

“What?” She said with a tired voice, looking up at Robbie.

“Look who showed up.” He had such a warm smile on his face Star was gobsmacked. Robbie didn’t smile like that. He nodded his head toward the already very apologetic-looking man tentatively approaching her, almost tripping over his feet as he dragged them.

Star turned with a low brow and her eyes landed locked with Eddie’s as if she’d been aiming for them. She stopped moving, involuntarily. Her face fell, mouth dropping open as he approached. She could swear there was a faint ringing in her ears from the shock. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt a wave of tingly ice move across her skin. Robbie stayed by her side as she shakily took steps forward. A sob erupted from her throat, but for the first time in a long time, it was accompanied by a smile. She took another step, another sob rocking her torso. She held her hands out with no shame in her desperation for Eddie who started jogging towards her, his frightened body language switching seamlessly to caregiver. She picked up her pace, leaving Robbie behind as her knees gave out on impact with Eddie’s chest. He lifted her into a hug, her feet leaving the ground and kicking up. She gripped him with white knuckles and sobbed loudly into his chest. He held her as tightly as he could and pressed his face to her hair. His tears fell then too, he didn’t sob like her but his cheeks were wet in the early light just the same. He held her, letting her sob. Ugly choked gut-wrenching sounds left her small body. It was a release she’d needed desperately.

“Man am I glad to see you.” Robbie said with a hand to Eddie’s arm.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He smiled back, only his wet lashes giving away he was crying too.

“I told you not to give up on this idiot.” Robbie grinned, rubbing Stars back.

She cried something unintelligible.

“You’re gonna have to use your words, kid. Breathe for a second. It’s fine. Your knight in shining armor is here.” There was no ill will towards Eddie for Robbie. He’d known from the moment Star cried about their fight that he’d come back. Eddie wasn’t a quitter. He knew the guy that much. Everyone has fights, and he knew Star was admittedly hard to love sometimes. But she had people around her that were the same way. When you found your people like that you didn’t give up on them. He knew Eddie was one of their people. First loves were intense and these young fools were no exemption to the rules of messing things up when emotions ran high. Robbie's years of experience told him that with time, the two bumbling goobers he had watched fall in love would be just fine.

“I’m here.” He spoke softly in her ear. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“M’Sorry.” She blubbered out as he smiled wide at her pitiful little red face. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped her cheeks then squeezed her snotty nose. She cracked a smile through her quiet tears and took the cloth to clean herself up.

“There she is.” He put his hands to her cheeks. “There’s my pretty girl.” He watched her face screw up into a comedically deep frown as he laughed and kissed her forehead.

“Y-yours?” She shakily breathed in.

“Yes. I’m sorry. Okay? We can talk about it later. Today's about you right?”

Y-yeah.” She nodded.

“Just know I’m here for you, okay? I’m sorry I made you doubt that.”

“Did you get my tape?” She asked with big bright glossy eyes.

“That’s what snapped me out of it. I'm sorry I doubted you. I was just so used to being a secret, a backup plan, a story to tell, you know? But I’m here now. I hope that counts for something.”

“It does.” She said finally losing her quivering voice. “I’ll fight you later, kay?” She gave him a soft smile and she saw a tear fall down his cheek as he beamed down at her, squishing her cheeks and kissing her pooched lips.

“You can hit me with your car if you want, I know you’re good at that.” He joked and got a laugh out of her.

“That would make me feel better.”

“Yeah? It’s a date then.” He kissed her forehead and squeezed her.

“No sex on the first date but murder is okay.” She said into his chest as she felt him warm and laughing around her.

“I missed you so fucking much.” He said pulling her away to kiss her cheek.

“I missed you more.” She admitted with a crooked smile, it and the statement made Eddie’s heart flutter for good reasons now.He kissed her briefly again.

“I’ve got you today alright? Whatever you need I’m your slave. Got it?” He smoothed her hair down and wiped some errant mascara off her cheek.

“Hold my hand and don’t let go until I say.” She stated as her first order. He stood next to her and laced their fingers together. He stood up straight and she mirrors him. He lifted her chin back up.

“Lead the way, boss.” He said with an approving nod, holding his free hand out for her to take the lead.

They sat on the uncomfortable wooden bench outside the room for hours. Star had her headphones on for a good part of it, Eddie sat next to her, only breaking their handhold to put his arm around her and take her hand with his other. She’d fallen asleep on him, he’d been stroking her hair and rubbing her back and she’d fallen into the missed lull of safety only he could bring her. Eddie looked down at her for the longest time, smiling and kissing her head.

The woman across from them watched them with an adoring smile.

“She have to speak against someone too?” She asked, giving the information that she too was there for the same reason.

“Yeah,” Eddie said softly, rubbing Star's arm.

“First time?”

“Yeah.” He nodded again.

“She’s lucky to have you “ she gave a sad smile.

“Nah.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I’m lucky she puts up with me.” He said wholeheartedly.

“You’re the boyfriend then?” The woman grinned. Eddie paused, his mouth open trying to figure out how to answer that.

“He is,” Robbie answered. “More like the husband.” He smirked from behind his magazine. The woman looked over at him in surprise as he joined the conversation. “I’m her older brother.” He added to give context. Eddie had blushed at Robbie's words. “I’m here for moral support since I dealt with her going through this the first time around with her piece of shit ex.”

“Ah yes. Same here. She reminded me of me my first time back here.” She gave Star a sad smile even though she couldn’t see it. “It won’t be so hard next time.” She said kindly, looking to Eddie. “It won’t be easy but there’s a fear that first time.” She shook her head. “You don’t get the same fear after that.” She sighed. “If she can get through putting him in there she can do anything. Remind her of that when she needs it.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said softly to not wake her. “I never know what to say because I can’t relate you know? It’s hard to understand sometimes.”

“Because you’re a man.” The woman chuckled. “No offense, but you can’t understand what it’s like dealing with a man like that unless you’re a woman. There are certain things you just can’t understand. It’s something that makes us different.” She shrugged. “The world is different for us. It’s harder in ways you don’t have to deal with. Just be there for her, listen to her. Believe her.”

“That’s what I plan on doing.” it was Eddie’s turn for a sad smile as he thought about how he’d failed her.

The woman let out a content sigh. A small sign of hope in the young couple.

She came and went before them, Star waking up as the doors opened and the next was called. She’d turned to read the list she’d written. She didn’t know if she’d stick to it, not knowing how she would react when she saw him. But she felt better to have it. There were only bullet points and words on the page, they didn’t make much sense to Eddie. It was funny, it was a list of reminders of the most heinous things he’d done to her. And he couldn’t understand a word of it. He would understand far more than he bargained for very soon.

The next steps ensued, the warning call of the name. Her standing by the door waiting to be let in. Her hand trembled in Eddie’s and he squeezed it tight.

“I’m gonna throw up.” She whispered.

“No, you’re not. You’ve got this.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You can. I know you can. You can do anything.” He meant every word and she felt it.

“You had to put that bastard in there last time,” Robbie said from her other side. “This time he’s already in. You’re just helping keep him there.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. The door started to open.

The funniest thought she had walking into the room to sit at one of three tables in a rather anti-climatic conference room, was that orange looked terrible on him. She wasn’t in any spot to chuckle about it, but seeing him and not feeling fear or conditioned attraction made her feel a huge wave of relief. Part of her was worried she’d fall under his spell as soon as she saw him again. But she stood a little straighter feeling the old her slipping away.

Eddie was flabbergasted at the guy. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been this. This guy was very possibly the best-looking guy he’d ever seen in real life. He had two realizations, one, he understood why a 16-year-old girl would fall for whatever he said, and two, he looked nothing like Eddie. They both had dark hair, that was it. This man had hair that hit about his ears, swooping back thick and shiny. His eyes were a soul-piercing blue and stood out like some lich king around his dark lashes and brown skin. He had a jaw that could cut glass and a strong nose that suited his intense appearance.

He didn’t look in the guys' direction much, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, Bobby's eyes were only set on Star.

They all three sat down at a table as his name and charges were read.

“We have Florence Reynolds. The plaintiff in the case that sentenced him to prison.”

Eddie’s brow lowered, confused, and looking at Star who didn’t flinch. He turned to look at Robbie and he nodded. Eddie hadn’t know Star's real name.

There were formalities. Name stating and the relationship to the prisoner. She was asked to stand and did so without stumbling or projectile vomiting across the room. She considered that a win.

“As she said I’m Florence, I go by Star.”

“I always like Flo better.” Bobby smirked.

“Please refrain until she’s done speaking.” The woman who was calling out the formalities said and gave Star the nod to continue.

“I’m Star.” She stated again just for the reason of making him hear it again. “I was the victim of Bobby, as I knew him. He was found to have a narcissistic personality disorder and one we now both share, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I’ve been in extensive therapy since leaving the violent and manipulative relationship I had with him. My therapist has given me many diagnoses that affect my life every day because of the mental, emotional, sexual, spiritual, and physical abuse I endured while with him. I was only 15 when we met for the first time. A minor and a child. He was over a decade my senior and I believe that speaks to how he chooses his victims. If you let him out he will do it again. I know this because after I left him he did the same thing to one of my peers. He told them I was trying to get back with him and she believed him. That’s how I got the scar on my head, from a brick the girl and her friends hit me with. After a fire was set to the outdoor area of the school where I was knocked unconscious, I got these.” She held up her arm. “I have these and had to go through painful surgeries and physical therapy on top of mental therapy because of this inmate in front of you. I hesitate to call him a man because I don’t believe he’s human after the things he did to me and my family.” She put the paper down and took a deep breath, Eddie put his foot next to hers, she could feel it. She put her hand on the table, fingertips brushing the surface and she felt Eddie’s with its signature cold rings slide into hers. “He will tell you whatever you want to hear to get his way. That's what he does. He can act however the situation calls for. He'll lie and pretend and he’s so good at it that you won’t know it. Which is what I know is happening here. I went from a young teen who wanted nothing more than to be loved and dance with her friends on the weekends. I turned into a shadow of myself, alone and isolated and turning to drugs to make it through the day. He made me need them by tearing me down piece by piece for years and then supplied me with the drugs. He assured that I wouldn’t go anywhere. Control and isolation were his end goals. He framed me for stealing from my brother who knew of the trouble I was in and had warned me from the start about Bobby. But I didn’t listen because Bobby told me everything I ever wanted to hear and made me dependent on him for everything. Before I was able to escape I would be locked in our apartment with no key and no phone. He took my money and at one point my shoes so I couldn’t leave. As I said he made it look like I stole from my brother, both money and material possessions that belong to our mother. Robbie believed him and gave up on me. He thought I was a lost cause. This is what Bobby wanted. I was truly alone. He proceeded to keep me in the apartment after getting me fired from my job. I escaped by smashing a window and leaving via a fire escape. I made my way to Robbie where I told him the truth and seeing the state I was in and that I was sober he believed me. Without him, I wouldn’t have escaped. He had to physically defend me and himself to retrieve a few prized possessions I had left from my apartment, that’s when the original assault charge started. With that, I told everything to the cops, and trauma dumping as they asked me what happened, they took me to the station and asked if I wanted to press charges to which I said yes. I hope you believe me and the court's decision that he isn’t fit for public life. I hope you don’t make the same mistake I did and believe his lies. I hope you don’t force more women to be victims like I was by letting him free.” She nodded and sat, looking at the surface of the table in front of her and breathing through her nose. She’d done it.

“The board will take a recess to make a decision.” Was announced. Bobby was staring, unwavering at Star.

“You’ve looked better, Flo Jo.” The man smirked, spread legs, and sat back in his chair. Star met his eyes, glaring. “Was I so bad I turned you into a dyke? Who is this?” He laughed nodding at Eddie.

“It is a priviledge you get to stay out here while they deliberate. That can be taken away just as quickly.” The woman snapped as the officer standing off the side took a step forward.

“We’re just talkin',” he said with a smug face. Eddie and Star's hands were both shaking now. “This your boyfriend? That’s cute.” He looked them over. “Did she tell you what she told the courts that I did to her?” He asked sucking his teeth. “I didn’t do it of course.” He raised a brow. “But if you’d heard the things she told them you wouldn’t be able to hold her hand right now I’ll tell you that. She’s a dirty… filthy little girl aren’t ya Flo?” He winked.

“Robert! Last chance.” The woman says having the officer approach him.

“Nothing she doesn’t know. Don’t worry. I’m good.” He said with his hands up in cuffs.

With a united front of indifference, they didn’t give him the reaction he was hoping for. Nothing upsets a narcissist more than seeing they don’t have control over you anymore.

“Thank you ma’am it’s fine,” Star said as calmly as a glass lake. “He's trying to get a rise out of me.” She rolled her eyes and blinked lazily.

“You too good now?” He laughed. “You ran away from your home just like you do your problems and you think you’re too good for me now? That it?” He kept it lined with a huff of laughter to not seem angry and stay in the room to try to mess with her. “I hope you’ve your fun with Mr. Trianon over there because once he finds out what you’ve done he’s gone, baby girl.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t know how she’s not the one locked up in here man. She's done some wiiiild stuff with me, my man. She’s a good time. Especially when you get a few drinks in her. I’ll give her that… but save ya some time and let me tell ya, that kitty cat ain’t worth it. If ya catch my drift.” He snickered and leaned into the table, despite being far away. They all three gave him a stone wall in response. They could see him get angrier, nostrils flaring. “You’re really gonna be with that pile of damaged goods?” He went for hurting them both again. “He must be as pathetic as you if he knows how messed up you are and he’s still with you.”

Star raised her hand to the woman who opened her mouth to stop him. “He’ll tire himself out eventually.” Another wave of reddened face from the handcuffed monster.

“You can’t talk to me like that alright? Just because I’m in here. You aren’t better than me now little Flo Jo. These?” He raised his hands in cuffs. “Don’t mean anything alright? They don’t make you right. They don’t make you okay now. Because I know you, Flo. I KNOW you.” He leaned in as far as he could and glared. “And you’re always gonna be that stupid little girl. The one with a sick mommy who can’t do anything right. You were born stupid that’s not your fault.” He lashed out. Star held a finger up as the woman caught on to what was happening. “Your mother was stupid for fuckin around with those queers and gettin' sick. She knew better, and so should you. But it never stopped ya. Your daddy was the only smart one because he got a jimmy free ride off ya mom and left!” He laughed again, deep and menacing, eyes growing slightly erratic.

“When you’ve said the same thing so many times it becomes boring.” Star responded, a perfectly timed yawn appearing afterward.

“There’s the mouth. There’s that smart mouth again, eh?” He nodded. “This guy isn’t hittin' you enough.” He growled. Star saw the door the deliberations were happening behind start to open and she smiled. “You’ve gotta keep this bitch in line. If not she’ll think she runs the place. She’s got a bad attitude and no respect, you need to remind her of what a little fuck up she is. How everything she’s touched has turned to shit. She’ll take your money, she’ll fuck your best friend then have the nerve to cry about it when you hit her for it. You gotta hold her down and-“

“I think we’ve heard enough to make our decision.” The man speaks as Bobby jumps and turns with wide eyes.

“You’re back just in time. She’s been out here trying to make me mad this whole time! It’s like I said before, check the papers, she’s a lying little snot. She’ll push you to the edge until you pop.” He rushed out to place the blame on anyone else.

“Ms. Reynolds thank you for your time we know this wasn’t easy. We appreciate your candid nature and you’ll be happy to hear we agree with you. The board will not be granted parole. The case will be revisited in 5 years' time.”

“FIVE YEARS? You fucking kidding me with shit?” He shouted as he was being stood up and moved away. “You did this to me Flo! Look what you turned me into! You’re taking a man’s life away here!”

Star stayed sat until he was gone, his voice fading behind a now closed door.

“Thank you.” She said with a nod and stood.

“I'm sorry for him speaking to you like miss. But I believe you knew how he’d respond and it seemed to work in your favor today. I'm glad.” The woman with a very sharp and cold suit said but he eyes were warm.

“Thank you, ma’am. The one good thing to come from all my therapy is I know what makes men like him tick now. It’s not hard to upset them.”

“Good luck. Enjoy the rest of your time in the city. ” She nodded and gathered her files. Onto the next one.

Not a word was spoken as they walked out of the prison. Eddie had so much information thrown at him so quickly he felt like the words were falling out of his ears.

The early afternoon sun hung high but not harshly over the drab grounds of the prison. Star stepped out feeling the familiar wind on her face and in her hair. It was at its longest she couldn’t ever recall it being, a grown-out choppiness with a few of her home-style cuts in the mix. Breaching the gate she walked calmly until she reached Robbie's truck where she slowed to a stop. The two men trailed behind her, letting her set the pace for the next move. Eddie moved beside her to observe but not disrupt. He couldn’t help but be compelled to treat her like she was fragile. She had every right to be. Plus, focusing on her needs let him ignore the avalanche of epiphanies and questions the last hour had brought down on him.

She closed her eyes and took in a chest-rising breath she felt into her toes. A single tear tan down her cheek to meet the corner of her mouth that curled into a smile. Her closed lips were tight before she turned them in to chew at them for a moment. Fluttering her eyes open she released her second audibly exhale. She turned, knowing she should address her support system. She didn’t meet their eyes, mouth opening to speak before she tilted her head, brows rising and falling as she tried to pick which words to come out of her mouth like a ball being plucked from a bingo cage. That’s how her brain felt anyway, rattled and spinning. She didn’t know how she felt, she knew it was good but, it didn’t feel real.

She decided to meet Eddie first, he knew she had on her thinking face. It always made his hands want to mush her cheeks with the way her lips pouted and her nose took on a bunny-like characterization. He mirrored her loss of words, both blinking as if they were trying to remember how to speak.

The silence stretched over a minute. After which Robbie decided to be the adult and guide them in a direction. Any direction.

“You two have a lot to talk about.” Both a factual statement and a jab at how they were looking at each other like fish out of water. He put a hand on both their backs, putting them both into the shade with his large silhouette. “I assume you’re gonna drive back with Eddie?” He asked with a gentle tone.

Star had been looking up at Robbie like she had when she was small and listening to his advice, eyes full of trust and awe. They quickly flicked to Eddie’s as he too looked away and to her.

“I’d like that.” He stuttered out, leaning forward a little nervously. “If you want to. That is.” He nodded and looked away leaning back again with his chin pressed into his neck. This decision came much faster and not to mention easier as she nodded before affirming with words to accompany it.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” She looked down with the same bashfulness and took his hand into hers.

“Are you gonna stay up here a while or get on back?”

“We’ve got school tomorrow we should just get back.”

“Eat first,” Robbie instructed.

“Oh right.” Star became aware of the painful empty feeling in her stomach. For once it was from a physical cause and not an emotional one. “That okay?” She asked Eddie.

“Whatever you want.” He nodded with high brows.

With that Robbie wrapped her up as she smiled into his shoulder.

“Proud of you kid. You should be too.” He kissed her cheek and she pouted, almost tearing up again. “Shush you know I love you don’t make me say it.” He grinned and shoved her shoulder to knock off her balance. With the order to drive safely and not be stupid, Eddie and Star found themselves side by side in his van again. It felt like months they’d been apart. Both scrambled to recall the last time they’d been in his van together.

“You need to talk about it?” He asked before turning on the van. Star shook her head and looked at him with a subtle smile.

“Not yet. I’m still processing it. It’s not hit me yet. Not really. It’s been a hell of a week, I don’t think my brain's caught up yet.” She huffed out a quiet laugh.

“It really has.” They both stared at nothing, eyes out toward the front of the van. “I’m sorry, you know. For… everything. For me and this today and just..” he sighed.

“It’s okay.” She put her hand on his arm. “We have all the time in the world to talk about it now don’t we?” She said with hopeful eyes. He put his hand to hers in his arm. He gave her a smile that showed his dimples and she softened even more. He took her hand into his and kissed it.

“Yeah, we do.” It was a tender moment they both needed. A moment of recognition and reprieve.

“But food first.” Star said seriously then she shifted into a light-hearted smile.

“Of yeah duh, obviously. Food first. Always.”

PART 22

If you enjoyed it, reblogs, likes and comments help IMMENSELY.

Here's the playlist for the mixtape mentioned in the chapter if you're interested.

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captain-hen · 1 year

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re. OG vs LS, i never got why lone star was praised for its diversity when the OG show also had a very diverse cast. the only two straight white men on the show are bobby and buck, and unlike owen strand, neither of them got an overwhelming amount of screentime. ngl i would even say that bobby gets less screentime and post s1 he was more of a supporting character than any of the POC on the show.

and i think hen especially is diversity done right. she's a black lesbian, and the show never shies away from the ways that her life has been affected by both of those identities, but it never feels like tokenism. she is skilled, she is competent, she has a wife and a family and friends that love her, she has her own character arcs, and best of all, she is allowed to be deeply flawed and make mistakes without being villainized, which is something that a lot of shows struggle with especially when it comes to minority characters.

i love chimney's growth throughout the seasons, and i also think that copaganda aside, the show did a great job with athena's family dynamics. athena and michael's s1 arc isn't something i've seen very often on TV, especially not with a black family, and i like that they got to explore this complex storyline. unlike w lone star where the diversity comes first and the identity comes second, these characters have always been their own people before they were lumped into a marginalized identity box, and that just isn't how it's done on LS.

^^^ all of this! one of 911's hallmarks is that they write characters making bad and fucked up decisions all the time, but they're never villainized for it, and the characters of color definitely aren't. maybe it's the bare minimum, but it's something you rarely see in an organic way on tv, so 🤷🏽‍♀️ the show has such amazing women at the forefront and shows their struggles in the workplace, with mental health, motherhood and racism (in case of hen and athena). despite this the show is frequently accused of being misogynistic because people gave more importance to white women who were side characters and were ultimately written off because they were never meant to be anything but temporary

while i have some criticisms about how chimney has been written since season 2, the show has undoubtedly done a really good job with his overall growth and equally so in developing his relationships with the firefam. i loved how s5 made it so clear what a hole his absence left in the 118, and that he really is the heart of the firehouse. as for the grant-nash family dynamic, they're one of the best things about the show and i've enjoyed them so much, especially in s3 and s4, and i'm sure it would still be as good if rockmund hadn't left. so, yeah, i mean, all this is just my opinion, but i think tumblr.com attaches way too much importance to some vague idea of ~~representation~~ without sticking around to see if these characters are actually being written well and aren't just used as tokens for the showrunners to pat themselves on the back and call it a day. which is really how LS felt like to me.

#neethu answers #anon #obligatory apology to my mutuals who love LS #anti lone star

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denimbex1986 · 25 days

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'When Steven Zaillian sat down to write his version of The Talented Mr. Ripley for Netflix, he produced what he describes as “a 500-page movie script.” Zaillian isn’t shy about writing scripts with a certain level of detail — clearly laying out character motivations and reactions, both physical and emotional. It’s a deep-dive approach that is part of what makes Ripley such an immersive watch. Long stretches of episodes are devoted to how exactly scammer Tom Ripley (Andrew Scott) wipes up a pool of blood, or how he negotiates a boat-sale scheme with an Italian counterpart, or how he alters his appearance to trick a detective into believing he’s a different person. The series’ moral ambiguity flourishes thanks to all that methodology, which is exactly the kind of thing Zaillian excels at writing (see the chess gameplay of his directorial debut, Searching for Bobby Fischer; the statistics-reliant maneuvering in Moneyball; or the calculated bribery in Schindler’s List).

If Zaillian hadn’t had the ability to make Ripley this long and sprawling, he wouldn’t have done it. “I felt that I could do things with the book that a movie can’t in two hours,” says Zaillian, whose 2016 TV debut, the HBO miniseries The Night Of, won five Emmys out of 13 nominations. The eight-episode Ripley — originally ordered by Showtime before ending up on Netflix — rejects the sunny luxury of previous depictions of the Italian coast (as seen in 1960’s Purple Noon and 1999’s The Talented Mr. Ripley). Its black-and-white cinematography is bold, angular, and unsettling (thanks to cinematographer Robert Elswit, who previously worked with Zaillian on The Night Of, alongside other returning collaborators like composer Jeff Russo and casting director Avy Kaufman), which ends up serving Scott’s version of the sinister orphan well. Unlike the rakish suave of Alain Delon or the corn-fed sincerity of Matt Damon, Scott’s Tom is more mean, even dispassionately alien, in how he disposes of Dickie and Freddie. In the series’ stark color scheme, the bloody damage Scott inflicts on these men and the lonely locations in which he abandons their bodies make both Ripley the character and this portrait of his ascension feel like Patricia Highsmith’s text filtered through a German Expressionist fever dream.

Much of Ripley’s distinctness comes from its mimicry of Zaillian’s own life (aside from the serial-killer thing). His transfixed reaction the first time he saw a piece of Caravaggio-style artwork became Tom’s, too. Kenneth Lonergan, a longtime friend of Zaillian’s, pops up in an unannounced role as Dickie’s self-made father, Herbert Greenleaf. Shadows and darkness are more intriguing to Zaillian than sunny beach weather, which rarely shows up in Ripley, though it defines the look of previous adaptations. But maybe only a director who would confess to hating blue skies is capable of appropriately forefronting the murk of Tom Ripley.

Ripley is shot in black-and-white. You’ve said you consider the book the “novelistic version of film noir.” Did classifying the story in that genre lead you to the color palette?

That’s part of it. The other part is because the story itself is a rather dark and sinister story. It’s not impossible, but it’s difficult, to shoot Italy in color without having it look like a postcard. We shot in the winter; the whole story takes place in the winter. I didn’t want blue skies; I wanted cloudy skies, rain and rain-glistening streets. I had that look in mind from the beginning.

There’s a moment when Marge is writing Dickie a letter and says the tomato plant he gave her is thriving, and the series cuts to a shot of the plant completely dead. I laughed. It’s Tom Ripley by way of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. There is something so unsettling about seeing Italy this way.

Cinematographer Robert Elswit tells this story that I forgot, which is — Robert knows how much I hate clear blue skies. But when we were shooting the scene on the beach when Tom meets Dickie and Marge, there was nothing we could do about it. It was sunny. I wanted to put the camera way up high and get a shot of them lying on this beach. As I was doing that and had Tom walk by, his shadow fell across them. And Robert said, “Well, that never would have happened with an overcast sky. There are some good things about a clear, sunny day.”

Were there any approaches you and Robert used to amp up the visual contrast of the show?

There was a standing rule that whenever we were shooting outdoors, we had the ability to wet down the streets, whether it was daytime or nighttime, because it instantly brings those film-noir images to mind. And because it’s beautiful; it’s a little better than a dry street.

I’m curious about the Caravaggio of it all, and how the Italian painter and his work entered into the adaptation.

The first time I went to Italy, I went to a small museum in Perugia, and I was looking at this painting that had drawn my attention. It didn’t look like any other painting in the place. There was no one in the room except a museum guard and me. After watching me stand longer before this painting than any others in the room, the guard came up behind me and said exactly what the priest says in the show — “La luce, sempre la luce”; “The light, always the light.” He was talking about the chiaroscuro of the painting. It was not a Caravaggio, but a painting by a peer or next-generation artist influenced by him — a Caravaggisti. So I started seeking out all the Caravaggios in Italy when I was there. When I was writing the script, I put that in, and it developed from there. It became a sort of motif. I felt that Tom was somebody who could appreciate art and would do something like that.

And at a certain point, I said, “Well, let’s show Caravaggio himself.” He murdered someone 350 years ago. You may think you’ve made a mistake when it says, “Roma, 1606,” but I thought people would keep up with it. We went to the paintings in the cities we were shooting in. In Naples, we went to Misericordia Church, which is where Seven Mercies is. In Rome, there’s a triptych of three paintings in San Luigi dei Francesi, which I’ve seen before. In terms of the ones that he would look at in books, those were the ones that he hadn’t seen in person that I thought he should see — some of the ones that I liked.

We start the series with Tom dragging Freddie’s body down the stairs and then we go into the details of his life in New York. Was establishing Tom as a killer always your beginning?

It wasn’t. In the scripts, it starts in New York City. During the editing, I had the idea to start there as a little prologue. That’s one of the things that happens when you have the time in post to think about things, rethink things. We had almost two years in post.

Something I like about that beginning is we see the cat Lucio for the first time. I remember thinking, This cat knows what’s going on.

The only witnesses to Tom are animals and portraits and things that can’t testify. A goat sees something. And the cat. The cat sees everything.

The Tom and Freddie dynamic feels shaped by a shared loathing that’s potentially mixed up in their sexualities. Freddie is played by Eliot Sumner, who is nonbinary but male-presenting and implied to be gay in the series. I’m curious about the intention behind Eliot’s casting, and if there was a layer to the performance that you wanted to reflect our questions about Tom’s sexuality.

Not really. Eliot was cast from an audition tape, one of 200 actors who came in for that part. Most of them played the part as a kind of version from the book, although some of them were playing it almost like a copy of Philip Seymour Hoffman. And Eliot did something completely different, which was sophisticated, quiet, British. And I thought, This is it. Why can’t this character be the most sophisticated person in the story? Which I feel Freddie is, and that makes him a bigger challenge and a bigger threat to Tom, if he’s not just some sort of loud, obnoxious American character.

The moment with the Ferragamo loafers, when Freddie realized Tom was wearing Dickie’s shoes, really threw me. As you said, this version of Freddie is quiet, but he’s taking inventory of everything.

Eliot said that and did it exactly that way in the audition — without looking, is what I mean. And I thought, That is so smart, to take in the shoes before. I won’t bother showing Freddie taking in or seeing the shoes, but he does. It was a joke on the set when I’d say, “Let’s get another shot of Freddie’s shoes. Let’s get another shot of Tom putting on his Ferragamos.” It’s the thing that starts the whole sequence between these two, is this lying. So there’s a lot of shots of the shoes.

This series has such a collection of wealth signifiers: the loafers, the Brooks Brothers robe, the gold cigarette case, the fridge, the Picasso. Were they scripted to that level of detail?

They were scripted — the pen, the Hermes Baby typewriter. The Picasso was chosen while we were filming, and we had to get it painted and the rights to use it from the estate. For me, these items are important, and they’re not important because they signify wealth to Tom. I don’t think Tom looks at them that way. I think the people that own them look at them that way, like a status symbol. But Tom just appreciates them for the beauty in them. He’s attracted to them because he likes to look at them — even the ashtray. He just likes to have nice things around him, beautiful things.

Andrew said that the series has a “very light message” that “everybody is deserving of beauty and arts in the world. It’s not for a certain section of the community. It’s not just for the rich … We have to understand that it’s about class and money and morality and fairness.” I’m curious if you agree with that — if you were aiming for someone to walk away from the series with, if not exactly an eat-the-rich ideology, more of a spread-the-wealth ideology. Did you create the series with a political angle as an intention?

I wasn’t really thinking about that. I did think that Tom appreciates these things in a way that the rich don’t. The rich feel entitled to them, and they don’t see the inherent beauty in them. And he comes from a place where he does.

I want to ask you about Dickie and Marge, who were more homophobic than I expected. Can you talk a bit about that characterization of them?

I never really thought of them as homophobic. For Dickie to say, “Marge thinks you’re queer,” I don’t think that’s homophobic. I think that’s just what she thinks. At one point she says, “I don’t know what to think of Tom’s sexuality. I don’t think he’s normal enough to have any sort of sex life,” so she doesn’t know what’s going on in that regard. I think Tom has never really loved anybody other than himself. But the closest he comes is Dickie — maybe he likes him, he might even love him. And I think Dickie finds something attractive about Tom as well.

Andrew has said he doesn’t see Tom as a villain. You’ve said that you don’t think about generating sympathy or empathy when you’re writing characters. But I thought the series was very pointed about keeping us in Tom’s perspective when he does things I perceived as humorously mean, like when Marge is getting back on the train and Tom very energetically says “bye” to her and then throws her scarf away. How much of that dark comedy was intentional? It’s all intentional, yes. I love the relationship between Tom and Marge. At one point I said to myself, I think they would actually be very good friends if they didn’t happen to be in love with the same person, because they’re very much alike. You see this relationship changing when Marge starts to see the advantage of Dickie being missing and her starting to get some attention for that. Tom doesn’t really appreciate it. The scenes with them in Venice together I just love.

I liked how much friction there is in their arguments. It felt like watching a duel, each of them trying to get the last word.

And it’s the thing that nobody else seems to notice with them. If there’s a scene between the three of them — Dickie, Tom, and Marge — you’ll notice Dickie’s always looking down or looking off when those looks happen between them.

Dickie’s death is a huge moment. It seems spontaneous, but it’s such an involved scene — Tom attacks Dickie and collects items from his body, then ends up in the water himself when he tries to dump Dickie’s body, and then weights the boat and sinks it. What went into that?

That particular sequence probably took a week to shoot. Did we talk about it? We didn’t really talk a lot about anything. If a question would come up, I’d try to answer it, but I felt like the actors knew who they were. The scripts I write aren’t shy about mentioning what a character is thinking or feeling. I don’t write camera angles, but I do write that. In that particular case, Andrew had an awful lot to do. That was just a matter of committing it to memory and then doing it, and making it feel as if he’s figuring it out as he goes along, which was very important to me both in the sequence with Dickie and then later with Freddie — to show that he is not a professional killer. He’s actually no better at it than we would be. How do I get this guy out of a boat? becomes a huge problem. We shot that in a tank. How do I get this guy downstairs? becomes a really elaborate problem. Those two long sequences were in the script — they were quite long in the script.

For the most part, the series does not use handheld. But there is a moment when Tom is dragging Freddie’s body out of the apartment that we see one handheld shot, right?

It’s sort of one setup. I did shoot it non-handheld, as wide, as well. I like setting the frame and having the action take place in the frame. But when Joshua Raymond Lee, who is one of the editors, used it, I said, “Oh, I don’t think I want to use it. It would be the only handheld shot in the whole series.” And he said, “Well, maybe that’s a good reason. I think it looks really good here.”

I liked it because it helped make that moment feel unplanned, like another instance of Tom trying to figure this all out. Beyond the camerawork, was there a specific scene or moment where Andrew surprised you with a contribution to this version of Tom? I’m thinking of his “I like girls” line, which Andrew delivers very flatly.

Everything in that scene is for that line. And when there is a line like that, where it is the whole point of the scene, I’ll keep doing it until I hear it. He had a lot of patience with me in that regard. And when I heard it, I said, “Okay, good, we’re done with this scene.”

I mean, everything surprised me. I was constantly surprised daily by the choices he would make. He’s also really good at the process of things. If he has to forge something, he’s going to forge it. If he’s going to have to write a letter, he’s going to write it. If he has to climb from the water into a boat, which is extremely hard — it seems like it’s easy; it’s not — he’s going to do it, and I’m going to keep filming it.

There are scenes in the series where we are supposed to doubt Tom’s sanity a little bit. I’m thinking about the Italian language tapes, where the dialogue he’s learning feels very particular to him: “How much money do you need?” Or when he sees Dickie’s ghost. Or when he imagines Bokeem Woodbine’s detective listing all of his crimes. What should we take away from those scenes?

It’s more about a glimpse into his mind. But not to say, “Oh, he’s crazy.” There were actually more of them in the scripts. But the ones we do see include when he’s writing a letter to his aunt Dottie. He imagines her at the dentist. He imagines the people he doesn’t like being in some uncomfortable situation.

And it was important to me that what he imagines is something that he’s actually seen. If he’s going to imagine a banker in a bank, it’s a bank that he’s been to; if he’s going to imagine a private detective accusing him of something, he imagines him in what he imagines a private-detective office should look like, which is something straight out of a movie that he’s seen. The locations of these — I don’t know if I would call them a fantasy — imaginings of people talking to him are intentional.

In the last episode of the season, we’re introduced to John Malkovich’s character, Reeves, who sees Tom for what he is, and Tom sees him for what he is. They describe themselves as “art dealers,” and Reeves is the closest thing Tom has to an ally. Did you write the role for Malkovich, who played Tom Ripley in 2002’s Ripley’s Game?

He doesn’t appear in the first book; he’s introduced in the second book, Ripley Under Ground. More than anything else, I thought it would be fun to see him in this one, and figured out a way he could actually serve some sort of plot function. It was as simple as writing to John and telling him, “It might be fun to do this, and I hope that if there ever is another one, if we do any more of these books, that you’d want to do that too.” And he said, “Yeah!”

Was Kenneth Lonergan cast as Herbert Greenleaf in a similar way? You and him working together again was a mini Gangs of New YorkZaillian, Lonergan, and Jay Cocks co-wrote the screenplay for Martin Scorsese’s 2002 film Gangs of New York reunion that I was very excited about.

Kenneth, I’ve known him for a number of years, and I’ve always liked his performances in his own movies. What I didn’t want was what I would call your standard blue-blood aristocratic rich guy. I wanted somebody who felt more like a working man who made his money. That would be more meaningful in terms of the story. It was just, “Hey Ken, maybe you want to do this.”

At the end of the season, after Tom has convinced everyone that Dickie died by suicide and he’s reading the letter he forged that he’s passing off as Dickie’s last words, Herbert looks so guilty when he hears who he thinks was Dickie describing his own paintings as “worthless.” But they are pretty terrible. How did they come into being?

We had an Italian artist in the art department, Valentina Troccoli. She did all the Dickie paintings. She also did the Caravaggios; there’s a scene where we’re in his atelier and we see a couple of his paintings in the process of being painted. She also did the Picasso. She’s really something. For the Dickie paintings, production designer David Gropman and I initially had this idea that we would put up easels and everyone in the art department would try to paint badly, and that it might be better if it wasn’t a professional artist trying to paint badly, but somebody who just painted badly. It turned out that the professional won the contest. She was able to do it in a way that didn’t look ridiculous but at the same time was not good.

Was there anything from the Ripley books that you wanted to adapt in this series but that you didn’t get to?

No. But if somebody wants to do it again, there’s no shortage of material. She wrote five books about Tom Ripley, so there’s a lot there. My favorite of those books is called Ripley’s Game. I just love that story.'

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badboypoirot · 1 year

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Rear View Mirror

> Book 3 Spoilers <

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Relationships: F!Bobby / M!Detective; Ava / M!Detective

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I guess? If the Comfort is a bad idea?

Word Count: 531

Rating: PG-13

Summary: When the Detective has his heart broken, he finds a distraction in a certain journalist.

Author’s Note: This takes place after Book 3 on the Ava and Bobby routes, so beware spoilers.

I love the idea of Bobby becoming a confidant — and something more — for the Detective even though it’s a terrible idea. This is how I imagine it starts.

Read on AO3

If you asked Detective Lucas Langford why he was making daily drives to the Facility to visit a certain journalist, he would answer earnestly.

Not too long ago he had been in her position: stuck in bed, reeling from the revelations of the supernatural and trying not to implode. Yes, he and Bobby hadn't been on the best of terms. But this he had experience in. He could help.

And this was all true.

But it wasn't entirely honest.

No, the real reason sat heavily on his heart. It was in the rear view mirror as he drove down the forested path away from the warehouse. It was the confusing mix of relief and disappointment when he would round the corner and a certain commanding agent wasn't there. It was Farah's gentle hand on his shoulder one night as he sobbed in his bedroom.

It was the emerald green eyes that he saw every time he closed his own.

It was the kiss that he constantly relived in his mind.

It was the supernova in his chest that exploded into a black hole when Ava finally said what he yearned to hear and how it could not be.

And that's how Lucas found himself in Facility every day, sitting beside Bobby Marks as she recovered.

First, it was just a distraction, a sorely needed escape. He didn't relish playing both counselor and orientation guide for his ex-girlfriend. But it was a good enough excuse and less pathetic than moping at the station. He could return to the warehouse hours later, confident that he wouldn't run into Ava.

Over the next days, their talks shifted. They had graduated from "Do vampires drink blood?" to Lucas's own work. And it was like the script had flipped: Bobby listened, patiently and without a hint of smugness, as Lucas recounted what an utter rollercoaster the past months had been. Despite spending hours with Unit Bravo and seeing a new side of Rebecca, he confessed one day, the role of Liaison had been incredibly lonely. It was then that Lucas felt a warm hand on his. He looked at Bobby, confused first at the motion and then at her intense gaze, as she said, "You don't have to feel alone anymore."

And for the first time in all the years they had known each other, he felt that he could truly see her.

Soon, his visits to the Facility weren't just escapes. During each drive, he reviewed their conversations from the day before, thought up new topics for them to talk about. Memories from their time together in college began to resurface -– not in the familiarly bitter way but fondly instead. Sometimes, alone in the car or in his room, he thought of her and simply smiled.

Finally, Bobby was released. Lucas drove her home, of course. The drive to Wayhaven, boring at best, felt like it took no time at all as conversation flowed easily between them, punctuated with laughter and the occasional teasing.

He pulled up to her apartment building and watched her walk away -– until she turned back and leaned towards him through the rolled down window.

"Would you want to come inside?"

#please join me in the Bobby obsession #first fic I’ve publicly posted in over a decade so please be gentle w me lmao #I might expand on this premise -- love the idea of Tina and Rebecca being like wtf are you doing #naturally got to write it from the UB perspective #the wayhaven chronicles #twc spoilers #twc book 3 #twc b3 spoilers #twc book 3 spoilers #twc #twc fanfic #bobby marks #twc bobby #poirot posits

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7grandmel · 3 months

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Todays rip: 14/02/2024

Goodbye To Love

Season 4 Episode 2 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume for Nintendo 3DS

Ripped by Sarvéproductions

youtube

Requested by crickqt! (Discord)

Believe it or not, being eternally single kind of means that you end up forgetting about Valentine's Day whenever it rolls around each year. I got a sudden shock in the SiIvaGunner Discord when someone pointed out I was about to miss one of the channel's longest-running jokes, done each February 14th since the start of the channel. Events come and go, Seasons pass, the channel grows, yet each Valentines Day, the SiIvaGunner character remains lonely. Each year, SiIvaGunner says Goodbye To Love.

Bobby Vinton's Mr. Lonely is the kind of song that's damn near perfect for use in shitposting. Its a well-remembered, classic song, yet also one that's very inherently memetic, still able to convey the crux of its point almost perfectly no matter how much you trim it, no matter what context its put in. It is, in no uncertain terms, a sad song about feeling lonely. Many funny memers of the ages, and the SiIvaGunner team itself, have thus been able to leverage this simple message to tell narratives of sorts: Each annual Valentine's Day, in making rips featuring Mr. Lonely, we're made aware in a pretty funny way that SiIvaGunner himself is single, lonely, and feels left out. This long-running joke that occurred without fail in Season 1, Season 2, Season 3 and Season 4 Episode 1, finally reached a sort of climax in its fifth go about it - during Season 4 Episode 2, Valentine's Day went from a subtle ongoing joke to a full-on event.

The channel's profile picture was changed to perhaps the funniest variant it would ever have, an edit of an infamous panel of Kaneki from Tokyo Ghoul, expressing a sense of despair and resignation, inner sorrow expressed in a decidedly "anime-cool" type of way. The theme of the rips uploaded on the day was put into focus more than ever - Mr. Lonely was *everywhere*, and rips such as the aptly-named please god let me meet her feature full-on narration leaning into the joke. Being alone in the world is of course not a joke in of itself - the event, beyond playing on the building running gag from prior seasons, is parodying and making fun of a very specific kind of "incel", "doomer", "simp" culture found on websites like 4chan and Reddit - you've no doubt seen them if you're deep enough in the trenches to be reading a SiIvaGunner blog. Its the perfect culmination to this running joke, something that felt equally expected yet surprising in their commitment to the bit - all topped off with the finale to the event, Goodbye To Love.

The SiIvaGunner team must surely know at this point the emotional response that we as fans get from the use of Goodbye to a World - one of the channel's most famous rips from Season 1 used it to such incredible effect, at such a volatile and influential part of the channel's life, that rips using Porter Robinson and Undertale music in conjunction have become a running series of rips in the years since. Even looking past the Season 6 finale's incredible Fusion Collab in tribute to the song and artist, Aphex, Hopes and Divinity+ and Battle Against a True Porter are just some of the many examples of these that I've covered here already. Each one has resonated with us viewers in one way or the other, all calling back to that one Season 1 rip. Goodbye To Love uses that emotional attachment, that anthem of unabashed love for this silly meme channel, and attaches it to the aforementioned long-running joke - mashing up Goodbye to a World with Mr. Lonely for the most befitting finale possible.

I've meant to talk about the purpose and intent of the Circus rips on SiIvaGunner for quite some time, and I'll be getting to that in just a few posts from now - but to keep it simple for this post, rips of Circus from Five Nights at Freddy's allow rippers to completely obfuscate what the joke of the rip is going to be even more than the traditional rips already do. We already came to expect the event was going to have a finale of some sort, but to sneak it into a seemingly unassuming Circus rip, one of literally dozens upon dozens more on the channel, just adds so much more inherently comedy to it all. The mashup's extra lengths to reiterate on its own joke - including the aforementioned monologue from please god let me meet her, adding occasional melody swaps to Sean Kingston's Beautiful Girls, changing the "Five Nights at Freddy's" title to say "Zero Nights at Freddy's" halfway through the rip, and so many more details just make it such a deceptively fun listen, when the mashup itself was already genuinely very funny.

And like, it may be because I'm forever on a Sean Kingston high - this is now the fifth rip I'm covering with the meme after Crazy Noisy Beautiful Girls, Beautiful! ~ Curveball of Sean Kingston, Take You To The Desert and Electromeme Adventures, but...it alone just adds so, so much charm to the mashup. If you've recently heard anything of Beautiful Girls outside of the context of SiIvaGunner, it's likely from someone making fun of the absurdity of its lyrics - it is, in literal terms, Sean Kingston singing about how seeing a beautiful woman makes him feel suicidal. That absurdity just makes it such a natural addition to this long-running joke - one that started two whole years before Mr. Lonely and Goodbye to a World first became mainstays on the channel.

I've talked quite a bit about the larger events on SiIvaGunner - in the past few days alone I talked about the King for Another Day Tournament of Season 4 Episode 1 twice over in Unhealed and NIGHTMARESCAPE 〜Unrestrained HyperCam 2〜 (Final Boss Phase 2). Yet these smaller, one-day event are so much fun entirely in their own right - they're able to be focused, perfectly paced, and generally not overstay their welcome, whilst delivering the punchline perfectly with explosively well-done finales. And to all the lonely souls out there this Valentine's Day, rest easy knowing that SiIvaGunner himself is staying just as lonely himself - and it's quite likely that Mr. Lonely is, once again, set to appear in just a few hours on the channel's rips, for yet another year of this dumb running joke.

#todays siivagunner #season 4 episode 2 #siivagunner #siiva #Sarvéproductions #rip visuals #valentines day #porter robinson #goodbye to a world #mr lonely #beautiful girls #sean kingston #circus rip

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sansxfuckyou · 5 months

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wrong place (wrong time)

Summary: wherein Quackity is there when Tilìn dies and he can't do anything about it, having Phil and Missa catch him in his fall doesn't help much

Warnings: Blood, break downs, major death, canon rewrite (as in, different people are there), bad ending, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: So, QSMP, I miss Tilìn, so I wrote a fic about her dying, to cope, kind of counter intuitive now that I'm thinking about it. @h3xt0r heybro, come check this shit out. anyways! hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checking out the Ao3 port.

Tilìn felt this sense of glee when Quackity got her, this belonging when he hoisted her up with shocking ease and held her tight like she'd been his daughter forever. Her brothers and sisters also got parents after watching their mother flee the nest, but they all got two.

And she only got one.

Her siblings teased her over it, Quackity always crouched down and gave her the most comforting smile he could muster before trying to cheer her up. He always managed to have her giggling at the end of one of his long pep talks. And sure, dinner felt lonely without a second parent but she didn't really think that mattered much.

"Papa?" She can feel her blood sink into the fabric of her clothing, bright blue like her hero's.

Not when he was always at her side and taking care of her. He did the job of both mother and father, he took care of her with ease. He was the best and she's sure of it! Even if Bobby and Dapper say otherwise.

"No. No. No. Baby, don't die. Tilìn, stay with me! Look at your papa, okay? Focus on me, it's gonna be okay- Bad! Bad?!" Hands press at the wound desperately to hold in the blood and he screams for the one healer he knows. The only one who sort of gets how the eggs even work medically wise, the one demon who could save her. And he didn't hear Quackity's screams.

She didn't blame him much for her first death, accidents happen, that's what she was taught. She said it was okay when she came back and Quackity sobbed on her shoulder and refused to let go for a long time. He didn't let go of her now, he held on so very closely no matter the hour because Tilìn is his daughter and he needs to protect her.

That's what a good dad does. He protects. He doesn't let harm come anywhere near his kid. And maybe he goes overboard with it, just a bit, but he can't bear to lose her again. Unlike the rest of them, he doesn't have someone to lean on if she does die. He's pretty sure he'll go out in the woods and starve to death if she dies, he'd have failed his one job. A pathetic self-exile would be a fitting punishment for letting his daughter die at age twelve.

Tilìn doesn't get how much she means to her dad, she doesn't really get that she'll be gone forever when she dies the next time. She just knows it wasn't fun, and she'll avoid not fun things like her life depends on it because she's a kid. That's what kids do, and Quackity's gonna try and let her be a kid even if he's afraid she'll die.

"Thanks for having us over, Phil," Quackity said quietly as his avian friend preened a spread of golden feathers.

"It's fine by me, the more the merrier," Phil answered with as he rearranged a whole sheaf of feathers left out of order for some reason. Quackity gives an abrupt chirp at the slight sting, "Say, when did you last preen yourself?"

No answer. Why should he respond? Phil already knows exactly what the answer is so why does he need to say it?

"Quackity," The blonde presses, running a hand along the arch of a wing.

"Before, before my daughter died," The words are brimming with shame, and he can't stop the disappointed sigh rolling through him.

"Mate… You gotta take better care of yourself," Phil said, voice soft as he moved to plucking broken feathers from Quackity's other wing.

Quackity shrugged, drawing wings higher reflexively, "No, I don't, I have to keep Tilìn safe. How would you feel if Tallulah died?"

Phil pauses, "That question is unfair."

"And unlike you, I don't have someone to console me if she does die! This single parenting shit is hard," Quackity snapped before dropping back onto the Elytrians lap and Phil refrains from saying something stupid.

"I can imagine,"

"Can I just- can you take care of Tilìn for me?"

"What?"

"Please, I know that you won't let anything so much as touch her. I need to know that she's safe, I can't do everything all at once; I just want her to not die. She's my daughter man, and I'm messing this up,"

Phil just doesn't answer, tactfully preening the inner side of Quackity's wings. Prodding feathers back into place as Quackity waited patiently for an answer he knew he wouldn't get. He rolls onto his side, curling into the avian and giving a heavy sigh as he wraps his wings around himself.

"I'm not taking care of your egg, Missa would kill me if I decided raising two kids would be a good idea," Phil said, carding through the feathers as he spoke.

Quackity gives an amused hum, "Yeah, he would."

"You can drop her off sometimes," Phil offered, "Just not, all day every day."

And then there's the sound of the door slamming open. Quackity snapped up, feathers flying about as Phil joined the estranged panic. They found Missa with Chayanne at his side and Tilìn in his arms, blood spilling down her shirt. Missa was heaving breaths, and Chayanne looked ruined, he was crying a little bit.

And then Quackity was storming over, flaring out his wings as he stole his daughter from Missa's arms and clutched her close. She was fading, she was fading fast and Quackity didn't know what to do.

"It was some assholes!" Chayanne practically screamed, "They ran as soon as it happened! I swear I'm gonna kill them!"

Missa placed a hand atop his sons head, and the angrily lashing of a leathery tail halted, "Más despacio, Chayanne."

He just huffed, he did quiet down as Quackity slowly unraveled.

He was dropping to the floor before he realized it, clutching onto the almost dead child because she was all he had. A hand, he didn't know who it belonged to, gently reached for Tilìn and he lashed out. He gripped tighter and blood gushed from the wound as his wings flared up in a weak attempt at a protective casing. There's weak coughing and he knows it's Tilìn, blood pools at the corner of her lips- she looks so much weaker than he thought she was.

"Calm down mate!"

"Let him breath, Phil!"

His hands wrap into Tilìns hair and her wings drop limp in his grasp, she's gone.

"Don't go," It's whispered, it's begging, he can't lose her. He presses a smattering of kisses to her forehead, "Wake up," He smudges aside the blood with his hand, "Please wake up, Tilìn."

Slowly, very, very slowly his wings drop down as the pulse stops entirely. He's holding onto a dead body now, this dead body isn't his daughter because his daughter isn't supposed to be a dead body. He let's go slowly and before Missa or Phil can stop Chayanne he's right beside Quackity, holding onto Tilìn and butting their heads together because she always responded to that. And when she doesn't, the finality of the matter sets in for Chayanne.

The body is set down gently on the carpeted floor, and Quackity edges way from it, so does Chayanne. Phil takes a seat beside Quackity, fanning out a wing for him to lean as he stared at the blood on his form. His daughter's blood, his amazing, young, happy daughter's blood and she lay dead not even two feet away from him.

"Where's Cucurucho?" Was all Quackity managed on a strained voice.

"Whatever you're planning, don't," Phil said sternly, watching as Chayanne clutched to Quackity's side. He pressed the top of his head against the avian despite the nubs of horns.

Missa sat down on the other side of Phil, "I didn't see them, Quackity," He stares at the wound on Tilìn, "It doesn't look like it was on purpose."

"It doesn't matter! Tilìn is dead and I have no one, Missa!" Quackity snapped, and that was the final straw before the tears started flowing. He was bawling in mere moments, body shaking as he stared, unable to say anything else aside from a few broken syllables. He leaned further into Phil and held onto the older avian who bracketed him in with a wing, keeping him secure like a weighted blanket.

Missa stayed quiet, unaware of what else he could say to try and comfort Quackity. He fell back on the classic fail safe, "We could have dinner tonight, so you don't have to worry about cooking, no?"

"I think that sounds great," Phil answered with because everyone knew Quackity wouldn't be able to do so in his current state, "Chayanne, can you and Missa go and start some soup for us?"

Chayanne nodded, a little bit more stiffly than usual. He stood up and brushed down his pants, "C'mon papá, let's go make some soup."

#qsmp #qsmp fanfiction #q quackity #qsmp tilín #q philza #q missa #q chayanne #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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walkedfire · 9 months

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“ i can take care of myself. ” superhero lets go

the bunker is quiet , nothing but the gentle hum of machines and electricity . he knows without a doubt that bobby had checked on them through the security cameras at one point . it should worry him , but its the only time buck doesn't mind someone watching him . he can't blame bobby , the bunker is the only save haven they have . the only place designed to keep them safe .

most of the lights are off , the sensors no longer detecting any movement . it feels a little lonely , without the buzzing of people . he rarely spends time below the firehouse without someone there . it seems to haunted . but his own apartment is even worse . at least in the bunker he can let of steam ; literally .

he hadn't expected to come back that night . he was ready to go back to that empty apartment and find joy in the tv or video game . anything to take his mind of the world outside . but then suddenly gen was there , buck had startled at seeing them there upon opening the door . he had wanted to say 'we have to stop meeting this way' but the words died on his tongue before he could form them .

as quickly as he could he had gathered them inside , ushering them both down to the underground compartments . he silently said an apology to hen for using her supplies , the medical bay was sorta her thing . it was even more quiet below . buck could feel the ghosts watching ; maybe he had finally gone insane .

" i remember you telling me to ask for help once," he cracked an easy smile though it didn't reach his eyes . it felt different now , both unmasked . buck wasn't sure who he was anymore . how to combine both evan buckley and the inferno into one . the team only ever the lovable goof , snippets of his life that he let slip . but it was a thing between them ; never make it too personal . it made it easier , if one of them didn't return . and it was bound to happen , the things they where doing weren't legal . they where chasing bad guys as much as the police where chasing them .

gen had only seen buck , and then the inferno . another mask to put on , another one to take off at the end of the day . he was tired . "why don't you let me take care of you for a while?" it was spoken softly , their hand clasped between his own as he tied off the bandage . he wasn't sure if it was needed , maybe it was him that needed to put it on her more than anything . it felt familiar all at once . like they had played this game before .

hands together , white bandages . for a moment buck thought he saw something else ; flashes of a memory . but he blinked and they where gone , forgotten to time .

#[ in character ] your boldness stands alone amongst the wreck #walkeddeath #[ superhero ] i burn so bright i fear i may become the sun

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timetide · 2 years

Text

Snitches & Stitches ϟ Bobbi & Sam

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @timetide & @samjacksonwc SUMMARY: Bobbi awkwardly bumps into Sam days after their “intensely spicy” night and learns from him about the sightings of the Lost Fleet, which Sam of course maintains are just rumors because ghosts aren’t real, right? Stay puft, man. WARNINGS: N/A

How long has it been? Bobbi dared not to think about it. In fact, she tried her best to forget about the memory of that night when she made the worst mistake of her life. Teagan had been gone, even thought dead, and the huxian felt alone, lonely, and abandoned. Who would have ever thought that dinner in a Thai restaurant would spur her to do the unthinkable and go home with a politician? Worse, the son of her worst enemy, the member of the town’s tourism board, the man who shared his name with a more famous and definitely more respected actor? Damn you, Sam Jackson.

Crap, crap, crap. Bobbi felt her insides melt, in a bad way, when she caught a glimpse of him at the food place she and John were delivering their fresh catch. She knew it was bound to happen one of these days, but she never thought it would be right then and there. After all, whenever she asked John about this route, as she had avoided going with him and Steve since that night in a pretty smart attempt to avoid Sam whom she knew was living downtown, he always mentioned that he never saw the politician around these parts. Was he lying? Or was this just a terribly coincidence? She shot John a glare but he just turned to her with a confused look on his face. Okay, he was probably not lying. What did I do to deserve this?

Sam was only in the area because of an old friend who wanted to talk to him about some weird shit at the docks. He wouldn’t have actually entertained the idea of paying them a visit if they hadn’t bribe him with breakfast. Sam don’t usually have breakfast, mostly because he believes it’s a waste of time when he has work and lunch would come in a few hours anyway, but this old friend, who was an actual old man, made the best tapsilog he’d ever had. To his surprise, he also found at his old friend’s carinderia the best lay he’d ever had. “Bobbi? Oh, my god, Bobbi! Hey! How are you doing? Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Oblivious to her desire not to talk to him, or maybe even acknowledge his existence, Sam approached the fisherfolk, and at the sight of John, who seemed familiar to him, tried to high five him but it was all awkward and John didn’t seem like he really wanted to be a part of any of this. It’s all right. No one in their right mind would ever want to be a part of this. “You guys also deliver seafood to this old man’s place?” Sam was both Captain Obvious AND Captain Oblivious. He turned to the old man who didn’t seem amused that Sam had left him at his table mid-story, glaring at him for the disrespect, only to receive a cheery wave from the tourism board member. “What a small world, innit?”

Why is he talking like a chimney sweep? That was the first question that came to Bobbi’s mind when she had a little bit of time to think. It wasn’t a lot of time, however, as Sam was persistent with inserting himself in her day. Even John seemed like he just wanted to just disappear right then and there, which he immediately verbalized before dipping out of there. “Looks like you and your friend need some catching up to do, B. Just text me when you’re ready. Gotta deliver the rest of these fish without delay.” He gave them both a little wave and almost ran the heck out of there without even letting her speak. I’m screwed. Poor choice of words.

Shaking her head in a useless attempt to brush the thought aside, she spun on her heels and turned to Sam, trying her best to put on a smile that seemed less annoyed and more normal. If that was even possible at this point in time. Bobbi gave him a little wave, just mimicking John’s gesture just a few seconds ago, unsure of what else to do or how to start conversing with Sam after everything that happened between them, the thing she’d rather have forgotten, even though it was her who wanted to act on her own curiosity back then.

“Heeeeey, Sam. Yeah, been a while. What are you doing here? This isn’t the…mayor’s office.” For the life of her, Bobbi couldn’t remember exactly what his line of work was, only that he was some politician of sort? Like his dead dad. Memories can be funny that way, especially if you try to delete them from your brain.

“Yes, it isn’t,” Sam gave her a look of confusion. Was it some sort of inside joke between them that he had failed to remember? Perhaps something from that night? Would it still be considered an inside joke if one of the insiders didn’t even remember it? Clearing his throat, Sam tried to play it cool. As cool as he thinks. On the contrary, it was pretty obvious to an outsider how lame he was, how this wasn’t something he was used to, not for the past few months anyway. Running into an ex felt weird, especially since Sam and Bobbi weren’t exes. “I was just talking to my old friend over there about some stuff that’s been happening all over town.”

Sam took a moment to point towards the old man that owned the place, but the latter had decided to ignore them, specifically him. Rudeness begets rudeness, after all, and Sam was more of an annoying acquaintance than an actual friend to him anyway. Heaving a sigh, Sam returned his gaze towards Bobbi, looking her over from head to toe, and obviously liking what he was seeing. It doesn’t really take that much for Sam to feel that way. A random leaf would be something he’d like to see depending on how bored he was. “Most of them were just rumors or hallucinations, though, nothing serious: People supposedly being much younger or older than they are, whole interiors turning into ye olden times, ghost ships in the horizon, white ladies, that sort of stuff.”

Sam chuckled at that, psh-ing at the thought that any of those things were real. Of course, some of them were real, he knew it himself. But admitting to that could put the town in jeopardy, and people couldn’t be trusted with the truth. Except maybe him and Bobbi, with the truth about what had happened between them. Ah, yes, true love. More like a mistake.

“What stuff?” The words slipped out of her mouth even before they could rein them in. For a moment, she almost forgot about the awkwardness in the air between them. They hadn’t kept in touch after that night, and Bobbi intentionally tried his best to avoid him. The town wasn’t that small for them both, but considering he was some sort of politician or something, the huxian fisherman just wanted to make sure she wouldn’t have anything to do with him until she herself was ready. Clearly, she failed.

But the thing about the town was, something strange had been happening, and Bobbi had herself gotten an inkling of these strange things even if she secluded herself on her boat, only ever socializing when she needed to fish and mostly with just her crew. And maybe some of the fun aunties at the docks. She squinted when Sam went on about time and aging and… “Ghost ships? What ghost ships?” Bobbi instinctively went closer to him, her eyes searching his for answers she needed, required, demanded. If this one night mistake was the solution to her lives-long problem, then awkwardness be damned. “Tell me everything about those ghost ships, Sam!”

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise and horror when Bobbi started getting all up in his grill. He fancied himself a champion of women’s rights, and this wasn’t even the first time someone of the opposite gender to his own started railing on him like he had owed them money, so the Tourism Board Member still did not appreciate getting attacked like that. Well, not attacked, more like called out or cornered or something along those lines, but he still did not appreciate it. She looks super pretty up close, though. I wonder what she does to her pores to get such smooth skin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he raised both his hands up, as if surrendering himself to her for whatever reason, after finally focusing on what was going on at the present. To be fair, Sam had seen for himself how Bobbi fights. That thing in that cave at the docks? It was messed up, way above his pay grade, and he just managed to luck out when he technically saved her butt, but Bobbi actually did all the fighting prior to his miraculous rescue. She basically went toe-to-toe with a wet zombie and lived. Sam would never want to start putting hands up against her. “Chill, Bobbi. Chill. It’s just rumors. Some old guy with cataracts said he saw some ghost ships at the beach or something. Nothing verified yet.”

And then a light bulb figuratively clicked above Sam’s head. “But, you know, if you want to check it out, I’ve got my car parked nearby. We can drive to the beach right now, if you want to?”

“What?” Bobbi glared at Sam in disbelief. Was he trying to get her on a date? Again? If she was in the mood, she would’ve just knocked him off his feet. But he had information she so desperately needed. Or maybe he was just the means to an end. Bobbi craned her head, looking past him to steal a glimpse of the old man from earlier. Was he the old guy with the cataracts who saw the Lost Fleet? Bobbi wanted to just push Sam aside and talk to the man directly but he was technically a customer of her crew, and she didn’t want to offend him to the point of endangering the boys’ livelihood. Maybe Sam did have his purpose after all. “You talking about that guy? Can’t you verify it with him now?”

Bobbi felt herself drowning in adrenaline. The thought that she could finally get her ship back was overtaking her so much, she wasn’t even thinking things through. For starters, even if the Lost Fleet was around, parading themselves in broad daylight apparently, she still had no way to beat them up or rescue her ship. She had learn a lot from Lil but had never tried to put that knowledge to practical use. This whole thing could be one giant explosion in her face. Calm down. Just…calm down. She heaved a sigh, bowing her head, before turning to Sam with pleading eyes. “Sam… I really need that info on those ghost ships. Really.”

“No, not that guy,” Sam took a step back from Bobbi and fixed his shirt, even though the woman didn’t do much to mess it up. Still, in his head, Bobbi put his hands on him, mostly his shirt, and that was no bueno. Sam even let out a little scoff to emphasize his displeasure at her actions, her attitude, at the moment. “It was someone else. Someone who just left.” Sam continued fixing himself, moving on from his shirt to his always messy hair. It made no difference, to be honest, but Sam didn’t realize that. “Look: I have no idea what’s up with you and these rumors of ghost ships, but if you really need the info, I could ask around?”

Sam watched her, mostly her reaction to his offer. He wasn’t one to abandon friends, especially in their hour of need. He considered Bobbi more than a friend, though a part of him hesitated to speak of it. Sam knew next to nothing about Bobbi, save for some unverified rumors of her being from a long line of women who all look somewhat the same. Hell, he wasn’t even sure that was a thing. Could be something racist. “Again, my car is just outside, Bobbi. I could take you to the old man.” But he didn’t even know where he lived. Classic Sam.

Bobbi heaved a sigh, trying to calm herself down. Despite every bone in her body reminding her that Sam wasn’t entirely the best source of information, considering his entire job was to cloud people’s information, especially the supernatural ones, but he was right about one thing: He could take him to the old man. “All right, Sam,” Bobbi began breathing slowly, pacing herself. All that adrenaline would be of little use in this encounter. She should probably reserve it for whatever comes next. “Take me to the old man.”

“But no funny business, all right?” Bobbi pointed a stern finger at Sam, her face turning into an intimidating scowl. Sam was all about that funny business, and she wasn’t in the mood for his shenanigans. All she wanted from him was verified information on the Lost Fleet. This could finally be her chance to regain her most prized treasure. She needed to exhaust all her options, even if it included being stuck in a car with an ill-advised one-night stand. I mean, he wasn’t that bad, but he’s still a Jackson. “Let’s go.”

“Funny business?” Sam could almost guffaw. Instead, he just flashed her a smile and went to the door to open it for her. “All my businesses are very serious, Bobbi.” When she passed through, leaving the premises, he’d turn to the old man who owned the place and winked at him, much to the latter’s annoyance, before following the woman out of there as well. Sam quickly walked past her, intercepting her before she could reach his car, so that he could also open the door for her. Like a gentleman. “My lady,” he even offered her a quick bow.

Once they were both in the car, Sam scrambled to put on some nice tunes but ended up switching from one radio station to another. And another. And another. He was trying his best to impress the lovely lady he had a thing with a few weeks ago and had never seen since, until today, oblivious to how messed up that is. He was too focused on having this chance, this moment, again with Bobbi that everything else was thrown out the window. “You ready? Sam and Bobbi driving through town!”

Bobbi was about to give Sam the benefit of the doubt, mostly because she was tired of fighting with him, but the whole my lady thing just made her roll her eyes even harder, deeper into the back of her skull. But she had no other choice: She had to get in his car and have him drive him to wherever the old man with the information was. She needed that information, and she needed it verified. Sam was simply a means to an end. Just like that night. She accidentally thought about all those nights ago, when they spent an intimate one together, and blushed, annoyed at the memory. “Yes, Sam! I’ve been ready! Drive! And please shut the hell up!”

Crossing her arms across her chest, she looked away from him, not wanting the politician to see her flushing cheeks. The last thing she needed was Sam egging her on. Bobbi didn’t hate what happened between them. In fact, she wanted it to happen, if not simply to test the waters, just satiating a curiosity about the man that had been nagging her since they crossed paths and saved the town together. Now that that was over, however, the aftermath seemed more trouble for her than it was worth. So she just sat there. Throughout the drive. As quietly as she could. Gods, I hate this.

“All right, all right, jeez,” Sam turned on the ignition and began to drive, already screwing up one of Bobbi’s requests. To be fair, though, Sam shutting the hell up would require more than just the magic word, which is please of course, even if you are a pretty attractive fisher woman who slept with him all those nights ago. Best sex ever. He had to do the exact opposite of shutting the hell up to rise the ranks in a stupid attempt to mock his late father’s political career. Besides, he did a lot of shutting the hell up at home, where he spent most nights alone and lonely. “Don’t get your panties tied up in a bunch.” He probably deserved to be alone and lonely.

Heaving a sigh, he tried to go on another radio station hunt again, but again, he failed. Sam stole a glimpse of Bobbi, which was obviously ill-advised, considering that he was driving, though to be fair, the road was mostly empty and no one was driving like they were in the Daytona 500. Or 900. Sam does not watch a lot of car races. To avoid the awkwardness in the silence that he was feeling, maybe even alone, he started to whistle a tune, accompanying the song on the radio. It didn’t take him long to start yapping again, though. “What’s up with you and these ghost ships, anyway?”

The urge to electrocute Sam was strong, but Bobbi managed to fight it off and rein her anger in, especially at that bit about the underwear. Whether intentional or not, the huxian didn’t really care, already believing that Sam was trying to embarrass her for what happened between them, for witnessing her in her most vulnerable, for having been intimate with the enemy’s son. Now that her curiosity was satiated, she had realized it had all been for nothing. Sam wasn’t special. He was just like all of them, including her: Lonely and alone.

“You really wanna know?” Bobbi tried to refocus herself on the distraction of a conversation. The fact that she had realized Sam was just as sad and pathetic as she was calmed her down a bit, even though she still technically had the upper hand of being immortal while he was just another puny human, insignificant and short-lived. She would outlive him and everything about him, everything that made him who he is, everything that she’d ever know of him. Wouldn’t matter even if she told him her secret then, especially since he’s already seen her bare. “Those ghost ships took something of mine, and I intend to get that back. Whatever the cost.” As she gritted her teeth when the last sentence crawled out of her mouth, Sam’s radio glitched, the huxian’s electricity interfering in its signal.

Ghost ships aren’t real, Bobbi. Sam wanted to keep to his script, but then he remembered the first time they met when Bobbi solo’d that one zombie that looked like he’d been underwater for far too long. Was that one of the crew of those ghost ships? Or was that just an unrelated coincidence, another monster from the sea that tried to invade the docks and was fended off by the captain? Unfortunately, Sam began to focus on the wrong thing. I slept with a badass. Now that’s amazing.

“All right then,” he heaved a sigh as he made a turn. And another. And another. It took them some time but they finally arrived at the park, where he last saw the old man. Parking his car near the bend, Sam turned to Bobbi with a more serious look on his face. “If you really need to do this, then I’m on your side. This is the last place I saw the old man. Not really sure where he lives, but this could be a good start. You’re up for a team-up?” He grinned as he offered her his hand to shake in agreement.

Bobbi just stared at Sam for a couple of minutes, not sure what to make of his allegiance. On one hand, it was always good to be on the same page with the person you were doing something with. On the other? It was Sam, the politician, who denied everything supernatural, even if they were already happening to him in plain sight of everyone. “Sam, don’t take this the wrong way,” she squinted at his outstretched hand but didn’t shake it. Instead, she went for the door with her hands while still looking him in the eye. “But I only need you to verify your info with the old man.”

Bobbi heaved a sigh as she turned around and left the car, shaking her head as she stood outside, hands on her hips. Despite not knowing the old man’s face or name or basically anything about them, she tried looking for anyone who could fit the bill, desperate to verify the information about the ghost ships. All she could do at the moment was wait for Sam, sadly, but in her head, she was already thinking of ways on how to approach the old man. She hoped he would give the information freely, not wanting to escalate the situation further, especially since she considered it unnecessary.

“Okay then,” Sam made a face to himself, feeling a little offended by her dismissal of his loyalty, though he tried his best to swallow any and all negative feelings brought about by that interaction. Maybe, he finally realized, this was why she had not returned any of his calls or messages. He was just a tool for her. Ouch. Heaving a sigh, Sam followed Bobbi out of his car and locked the vehicle to keep its insides safe from squirrels and thieves. He didn’t have anything valuable inside it, but what’s the harm in being safe. “He should be around here…somewhere.”

Sam led Bobbi to the specific area of the park where he had encountered the old man from before, as quietly as possible and without turning to her. He didn’t want her to blow up on him again, and more importantly, risk himself feeling terrible because of whatever she had to say to keep him at a distance. He thought they had a great time together all those nights ago, but maybe it was just him.

Fortunately for Sam, he didn’t have to dwell on those feelings for far too long as the same old man came to view, a little startled by the excited politician who skipped towards him. “There you are, Mister Drake! Remember me? Remember how you told me about those ghost ships? Can you tell me more about them?”

Bobbi intentionally ignored the awkward silence that shrouded the two of them as they made their way from Sam’s car to another place in the park. She kept her wits about her as she looked around, scowling while trying to find someone she didn’t even know. In her head, Bobbi would be able to find the old man as easily as she could a wealthy mark. She was a supernatural hunter, after all, even though that was mostly at sea and it felt like a different life altogether. Still, her determination could not be denied, even though her efforts were easily foiled by her lack of information.

Before she could take it out on Sam again, however, the politician came through. Bobbi’s face lit up when Sam took flight toward an old man, flocking to them like a seagull on a fish out of water. They exchanged pleasantries, which she viewed as a complete waste of time, considering they should have known each other already and she really was just there to verify the elderly’s information. Sam seemed insistent on wasting her time, and Bobbi did not appreciate that. Still, she waited patiently for them to wrap things up, as if she had a choice.

Every now and then, while Sam continued talking with the old man, he’d turn to Bobbi, which the old man easily picked up on. When Sam noticed this, however, he tried to stop the old man by placing a hand on his back and gently drawing his attention elsewhere, so they’d both end up with their backs to her. Sam thought this was a good thing, considering Bobbi might not have wanted the extra attention, especially because she seemed too focused on getting that information, more like verifying it really.

Once he got what he needed, however, Sam returned to Bobbi, walking toward her with a sigh after waving his goodbye at the old man. He couldn’t look her in the eye, still a little offended at what had earlier transpired between them. Sam was a good soldier, though. If anything, he tried to be as reliable as possible for the people he cared about, maybe even more than he did himself. “Okay, so the old man said that he saw the ships moving east at the beach. I think that would be around where we first met, right? That cave with the wet zombie?”

Bobbi squinted at Sam but immediately looked away, focusing her attention elsewhere, mostly on the ground, just so she wouldn’t be distracted by his current awkwardness. Was he talking about the Cave of Voices? Bobbi knew that was the case but doubted it for a moment, hoping to get something bigger, better, of a location than the same cave she’s seen so many times. Then again, what better place to hide stolen treasure than somewhere most people discard as nothing special. Or something dangerous.

“I see,” Bobbi heaved a sigh before starting to walk away from him, fumbling for her phone in her pocket. She was already dialing John’s number, so he could pick him up and they could deal with this on their own, or mostly she on her own, before she could thank and bid farewell to the politician who got her the verified information. Well, as verified of an information as she could get from Sam anyway. “Thanks, Sam. I’ll take it from here.”

If Sam’s heart had not been broken before, it was definitely broken now. While he had no delusions about being able to fight on Bobbi’s level, especially after he saw her fighting that wet zombie off way back when they first met in that cave, he still had hope that she would retain his services, rather his assistance, with whatever was going on with her. Sam had a gun and he learned new tricks while in South Korea helping Yoo-ara with that whole bulgasal thing. He could definitely help her. Worst case scenario? Bobbi could use his corpse as a shield.

“You sure?” Sam looked her in the eye this time but wearing those sad puppy dog eyes unintentionally. It was simply a reflection of what he was feeling right then and there, not an actual tactic to have her pity him and bring him on her team of Avengers or whatever. Then again, maybe it was a tactic by his subconscious. Hard to tell these days, what with his father’s ghost still haunting him and all the weirdness in town taken up to a nine. “I could still help.”

As Sam tried to continue getting Bobbi’s attention, she herself was struggling with contacting John. His line seemed to be very busy, which only served to frustrate her. Holding a hand up to keep Sam off her case, she continued to be met with failure after failure. It seemed that John wouldn’t be able to pick her up from that place, so when she caught another glimpse of Sam, she realized he still served a purpose to her. Unfortunately. “All right, Sam,” Bobbi heaved a sigh. “Can you drive me home then?”

Bobbi, however, did not consider anything else after that. Once she was back on her houseboat, she would then bid Sam farewell. He had been useful, sure, but she wasn’t quite sure he’d be useful enough to help her with what was to come next. He did save me from that wet zombie that one time. But would he be able to survive more of them without becoming just another additional thing for her to worry about? If I won’t bring my crew, the people I trust the most, then I can’t bring Sam, son of my worst enemy. It was what it was.

Sam lit up when Bobbi asked for his help. Here we go, he thought to himself, beaming with pride. Sir Sam the Brown Knight to the rescue! If he had said all that out loud, he would immediately realize how problematic that imagery was. Probably. But he didn’t, and instead, Sam played the gentleman, rushing to open the door of his car once again, so that Bobbi can enter and he can drive her back to her home, her houseboat, as per her request. If he was lucky, he’d probably get round two of that sultry night between the two of them. Hehehe.

Sam drove quickly, mostly because of that last thought. He was smitten by Bobbi, though that wasn’t much, considering Sam was lonely and alone, and he was easily smitten by anyone who’d give him the second of their day. Regardless of that creepy imagery, however, Sam would definitely give his life for her. That’s not saying he’s a good. That’s just saying he’s a dumb piece of shit. Love, or at least attraction, makes a lonely man do weird things. Once they were at her houseboat, he grinned from ear to ear, turning to her with that same grin, excited at what happens next. “Now what? Should we, uhm, warm ourselves first before we tackle whatever it is you want tackled?” Hehehe.

“Sam,” Bobbi spoke his name after he asked his stupid questions. The sigh that came out of her mouth was like cherry on top, except only because it provided the same punctuation a cherry would over every dessert it topped. Bobbi wasn’t feeling like having a dessert at the moment. She was barely feeling anything at all. Well, except for the impending doom that came at the realization that the Lost Fleet might be close by at the same time the town’s end also seemed imminent. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before quickly leaving his car, saying her goodbye through the window. “Thank you, but I need to face this thing alone. On my own.”

It was like talking to a little boy who mistook her for his mom. Or a teenage boy who mistook her for a romanticized version of herself. Whatever happened between them that one night before, it was special, even though Bobbi would never admit that. But it was nothing more than a memory now, an event in the past that they both needed to move past to survive what happens next. Bobbi still needed to deal with the Fleet. Maybe she can even get her ship back before everything went to shit. Maybe. “Take care of yourself. I mean that.”

And then she left him, walking back to her boat, her home, with warring thoughts of risking everything to get back her past or to leave before she could waste not just her future but her crew. What was a captain to do?

#wickedswriting #para #snitches and stitches #sam jackson

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