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#sure like ''yeah why not draw them sitting across from each other talking and it's chill'' may as well make that piece...manifesting lol
sevi-rous · 1 year
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AN ARTIST FOR AN ARTIST 📜
xavier thorpe.
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word count : 1.196
genre : fluff, schoolmates to lovers (?), mutual pining
warnings : bad grammar i think, a few errors [ please ignore ! ]
being raised in a family of artistic vampires was an emotional roller coaster. there was your mother, who had a ridiculous fondness for landscape painting. your father, who enjoyed abstract paintings and portrait drawings. your brother, who was a fan of realism. and, of course, you, who was a mixture of them all.
you were walking around campus, looking for anything interesting to draw or paint. you came to a halt near the archery field and noticed xavier thorpe sitting down with his bow beside him. you turned around and sat down on the nearest chair.
you began drawing him because you found his appearance intriguing. his face shape was... pretty. of course, in your own opinion. your gaze alternates between him and your sketchbook. your fingertips were filthy from smudging the pencil. you were finished in a matter of minutes. you sighed and stood up to return to your dorm.
"oh, who's that?" inquired your roommate, yoko. you flinched and instinctively shut your sketchbook. "uh, no one. it's my oc. original character, i mean..." you said as you sat up in bed. "are you sure? that looks exactly like xavier thorpe. since when was he your 'original character?'" she asks, chuckling.
you sighed and leaned back in your bed. turning to the side "oooh, do you like him? i can set you up with him," she whistles as she walks to her side of the room. "and how will you do that? you're not even close, yoko. i think you don't even talk together," you say, sitting up again, arms crossed across your chest.
"oh shush, [name]. we're not close, but we have this secret society. i hope you understand," she said as she opened her notebook. she takes out a pen and starts writing. she then folds it into an airplane and launches it at you.
you caught the plane and unfolded the paper. It was written there,
"xavier thorpe's phone number — xxx-xxxx-xxx
thank me later, ♡"
you give her a blank look before taking your phone and leaving the room. "stay safe, my lovely [name!]," she exclaims before laughing.
you put your hood on when you noticed it was raining outside. you walked through the halls, holding the paper that yoko had given you as well as your phone. you went around in circles, debating whether or not to text him. a notification appeared as you were about to enter his phone number.
from unknown:
hey, i saw you staring. do we have a problem?
to unknown:
uh
who even r u
fom unknown:
dang you already forgot? seems like you were having a good time staring at me earlier
lol kidding
it's xavier
to unknown:
oh
sorry i stared, didn't know u saw me
from unknown:
how couldn't i? you have a very powerful aura
to unknown:
i do?
from unknown:
yeah
what do you say about meeting up rn? i'm bored
to unknown:
um sure i guess
i have nothing to do anyways
from unknown:
i know
unknown started sharing their location with you.
you ran back to your dorm room, your fingers running through your hair. you rushed through the door, grabbing your sketchbook in haste. "woah, easy [name], are you okay?" yoko asks, but you've already left. "my roomie has a crush. i can't wait to tease her about this," she sighs and laughs.
when you see him waiting for you, you hide in a corner. he was sketching something in his own sketchbook. he had airpods in both of his ears. you can tell he's lost in the music because he kept bopping his head to the beat. it's nice to see him at ease.
you approach him slowly, but he is too preoccupied with drawing. you sit next to him, peering at what he's drawing. he flinched seeing you next to him, then hugged his sketchbook as if it were going to vanish. you both look at each other in shock, but when you see his face, you start laughing.
"why are you laughing?" he inquired, removing one of his airpods and placing it in its case. he flipped the sketchbook over and placed it beside him so you couldn't see it. "your face is hilarious," you continued to laugh.
"is that supposed to be a compliment or not?" you ask, making him scoff. "we only met today, and you're already making fun of me," he said, putting his hand on his chest and acting hurt. you laughed at his antics and looked through his sketchbook. "what did you draw earlier?"
"uh, random stuff. do you want to see my ability?" he asks, his gaze drawn to yours. "sure, bet it's cool."
"oh, it is," he laughs as he takes up his sketchbook. he turns to a page where he drew a spider. he holds his hands above the drawing, and you can see the spider slowly emerge from it. "woah, that's cool. is it real?" you exclaim, your eyes wide with admiration and curiosity. "no, squish it."
you let the spider crawl onto your hands then you squish the spider. the spider vanishes into dust. xavier can't seem to take his gaze away from you as your mouth forms a 'o.'
"say... why were you staring at me earlier? at the archery field?" he asks abruptly, jolting you awake from your daydream. "oh that. um," you fiddle with your fingers, debating whether or not to show him what you drew.
you sighed, lost. you reached for your sketchbook, which was resting on your thighs, and turned to the last page. you look away from him as you hand him your book.
he silently scans the page. you were clearly thinking a lot. 'was he mad that I drew him without his permission?' 'does the drawing look bad? "Am I bad at portrai—'
when he handed you back your book, you snapped out of your thoughts. when you looked at him, he was looking straight ahead. he appeared to have a lot on his mind.
"is it bad?" you wonder nervously. you were on the verge of fleeing, too embarrassed to listen to what he had to say. he gives you a quick glance before returning his attention to the scenery in front of him.
you were about to turn away when you noticed a small smile on his face. "no one's ever drawn me. i figured no one would draw me because I'm the artist. but you did. it's nice seeing my face on your sketchbook. it's nice. really nice," he rambles, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
"actually, i've been drawing you as well. i saw you once at Weathervane and you looked... cool. i don't usually leave nevermore, but i came to stop by weathervane every single day just to see you. oh god, that... sounds creepy, sorry," he laughs nervously, avoiding your gaze.
"no, it's fine. you're cool. this is all... so cool," you say, smiling up at the ceiling. "thank you," he mumbles.
"hm? for what?"
"for drawing me."
"And thank you," you say with a smile.
he looks at you, puzzled.
"for drawing me as well."
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© sevi-rous (0i8ma). do not plagiarize, copy, repost, or translate my work. reblogs are appreciated.
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lucky-bucky-boy · 4 months
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omg local baker who Mike has baking abbys bday cake but he has a crush on her ????
Oh my God this is so cute to me. I wanna run a coffee shop/mini bakery and this is just perfect and beautiful omg
I'm writing this with the idea that fnaf happened but didn't *happen* like no one died lmao
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~~
Mike wasn't sure what to expect. At all.
It had been an incredibly tough year, each day somehow becoming more rough than the previous. From mom passing, to job hopping, to Aunt Jane trying to get the courts even more involved. Despite all that, he did his damndest to not let it affect Abby.
He knew in some aspects it was inevitable. A young child losing a parent was never easy; she heard his grumbling and arguments with Aunt Jane, the comments about not being able to pay Max, found papers he should have hidden a little better
But birthdays and holidays were sacred. That he made sure of.
So, against his pride and better judgement, he had asked Aunt Jane for a little help throwing Abby a birthday party. She was more than happy to, surprisingly, with the agreement they come up for Thanksgiving this year. And begrudgingly, he agreed.
That's how he ended up at the doorstep of a brick townhouse closer to the city, a paper in his hand with an address scrawled in his Aunt's too neat handwriting. She'd given him a list of stores and things and places and people to get everything from in order to throw a "proper birthday party."
He did a double take on the numbers and street address, making sure they matched and still slightly confused as to why he was at a person's house and not a store. With a shrug and a tired sigh, he knocked on the door, the scurrying of animals evident inside almost immediately followed by a "shush" as he heard another door shut before the one in front of him went to open.
He didn't know what to expect, and sure as hell didn't expect to have a girl a little younger than him open the door, an apron on and covered in flour. She looked almost frazzled for a moment before shutting the door behind her, eyes moving from the curious furry creatures to the man now in front of her.
"Hi, sorry," she sounded almost as tired and exasperated as he did, "been a busy day, and my lovely little fur-babies have been noisy."
She wiped her hands on her apron, "I - I don't think we've met before." Her eyebrows were scrunched, confusion etching into her features.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. I'm Mike. My uh- my Aunt Jane suggested you to me. Told me you make the best cakes and cupcakes and gave me your address to place an order."
He could see the cogs working in her brain as she tried to pin poin who he was talking about, "Oh! That's right, she gave me a call the other day to make sure I'd have the time. You need the order for next Saturday, right?"
He nodded, "Yeah, next Saturday at noon."
"Perfect, yes. Come in, we'll fill out the forms and get everything set. My pets are actually in the front room so you don't have to worry about them."
A cup of coffee, a curious conversation, and too many forms later, Mike felt like he was in a dream. The girl sitting across the table from him was captivating, a sense of excitement and passion he longed to have and admired. There was a sweetness to her, something he was sure he'd be able to taste in more ways than just her baking skills.
"Okay," her voice cut through his thoughts, "So, we're doing 24 cupcakes, half chocolate and half vanilla, then a 9 inch rounch cake with mint chocolate. And it's rainbow, fairy, unicorn, princess themed. Does that all sound right?"
He chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, sorry I couldn't give you more specifics. She's sort of all over the place and it's a surprise party."
"Oh no, don't worry. I'm going to have fun with this. Does she like glitter?"
He nodded again before taking a quick sip of his coffee. "Yeah, yeah. She loves glitter. Her favorite thing to do is draw as well."
"Perfect. Well, Mike, you're definitely more pleasant than your Aunt," she laughed softly, standing up and placing the form in a little file holder, "But don't tell her I said that. I'll send her the bill tomorrow. I hope Abby loves the cake."
Mike stood up, a tinge of disappointment that their interaction was coming to an end so soon. "I'm sure she will. She loves sweet." He sat his coffee cup in the sink. "So uh, when should I pick up the cake?"
"Oh! Don't worry about it. Jane invited me to the party so I'll just bring it all with me, I could use the networking with other parents so it works out."
His eyes widen some, lips twitching up into a small smile. "Okay, cool. I'll uh, I'll see you next week." He hesitated for a moment before grabbing a rogue napkin and the pen he was using to fill out the forms, quickly scribbling something onto it.
"Here," he handed her the napkin, "My number in case uh, in case you wanna talk more." He paused for a moment, watching her eyes scan the numbers, "For the uh. The cake. The party."
She giggled softly, looking at him as his features began to blush. "Yeah. For the cake and the party."
He chuckled anxiously, "Thanks again. I'll see you later." Mike let himself out before he could make himself even more embarrassed, standing on the porch for a moment after he closed the door behind him, unaware that the sweet baker was inside quietly squealing over the poorly written number.
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manda-panda-monium · 2 months
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Only in My Dreams
A Steddie Soulmates AU
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Chapter 1
“As you follow the slimy little creature, you notice it has no eyes, but it knows exactly where you are behind it.  It could easily be leading you to a trap.  Or it could be leading you to glory!  What say you, weary travelers?”  Eddie’s vibrato rings in the nearly empty theater as he leads his party deeper into this story.  
Jeff and Gareth look at each other then look over to Frank.  Finally Gareth says, “I want to do a perception check on this little dude.”
Eddie’s mouth tightens in a slim smirk.  “Roll for it, Garrick the Gracious.” 
He holds his breath, hoping Gareth rolls mid numbers so he can hint but keep it more mysterious.  His brain is whirring, thinking of how he will play it off if Gareth gets higher than 16. 
“Shit, 4.” 
Eddie feels some tension leave him.  “You do not get much from this creature.  It is not attacking, seems friendly enough but weary of you all. It definitely does not seem of this world, so you all still feel unease.  But you know if you do not follow, you will never get this chance again either.” 
Eddie watches them as they argue back and forth on whether to trust the slimy lizard-like bastard or not. He steeples his hands and smiles in amusement.  “Tarry not, adventurers,the creature is fast and darting quickly down the path and away from sight.  Do you follow?”
Sinking in his chair, Gareth crosses his arms, “Yeah, what the hell.  Let’s follow this little guy.”
“Excellent.”  Eddie cannot stop his grin because he knows the chaos that lies ahead in this story. He rubs his palms together as he leans back on his throne. 
Jeff groans.  “I think we made the wrong decision. Look how happy he is.”
“As you keep along the path, the road gets increasingly dark and cold. You travel for what feels like miles. The sky goes from bright to blackest night before suddenly there is a red haze in the world.  It’s cold.  You can see your breath as you continue your journey, and each of you feels the shadow of eyes on you somehow. Lightning strikes!” Eddie slaps his hand on the table, causing all the others to jump. “And in the flash you see a man-like figure dash across the way. Only, it is much too tall and lanky to be a man”
He sits forward in his throne, fingers finding his chin as he hits them with the final surprise of the night.  “Ahead of you there stands a creature at least seven feet tall.  Its skin is gray brown and looks wet and slimy.  In place of a face is a grotesque maw surrounded by fleshy petals covered in fangs.  It chitters in excitement because its little friend just ushered in its next meal.”  Eddie closes his notebook after marking their place. “And that is where we end for tonight, fellas.  We are cutting it close and need to get out before the keeper of keys sees us here past seven.”  
There is a collective groan at this.  The guys hate cliffhangers.  
They all collect their things and as they leave, Jeff asks, “Where do you come up with this stuff, man?  These things are not in any of the monster manuals I have.” 
Eddie laughs.  “These all came from here.”  He taps his temple.  
Eddie keeps it quiet that he dreams about this stuff.  He often wakes up, heart racing, and then draws what he sees and often starts making stories in the middle of the night.  People get a little weird when dreams come into conversation.  
He does wonder sometimes why he stopped having the normal dreams that one would expect and started having these weird vivid nightmarish visions.  While Gareth would come in telling them he had a dream of dress shopping for prom, and Jeff would counter with a tennis match on a warm summer day, Eddie kept his dreams to himself.  
When your dreams are often the key to finding your soulmate, you don’t want people knowing you dream of monsters and other worlds that are creepy dead versions of your own.  Maybe that is what happens if your soulmate passes.  He wasn’t sure.  No one really talks about that. 
But he does wonder. 
He waves at the guys, all getting in their rides, and he hops in his van and  heads to his favorite place to smoke and unwind. 
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Steve is pressed against the wall as Trisha presses her lips to his.  Steve loves to make out, to fuck, to cuddle.  But he knows this blond is not his soul mate so he is only half invested in getting into her panties.  His dreams are seen through brunette curls, and he imagines what she must be like.  
Does she have soft lips like Trisha here?  Is she down to fuck on the first date?  Is she more coy or will she also rake red nails down Steve's back as she presses closer and closer?
He had thought Nancy could have been that person.  But she obviously wasn’t.  She had always known that, too and told him as much when she said it was all bullshit. He was bullshit.
But Steve had moved on.  No sense in holding on to what isn’t meant to be anyway. 
And Trisha isn’t meant to be either.  He knows this.  She probably knows it, too. But they are young and horny and both of them are attractive.  
And Steve needs to forget. To let go of the memories that run his mind all the time, and get some release.  He needs this.  Tonight, he needs Trisha. 
She moans into him when she brushes against his cock already straining in his Levi’s.  “Feels big.”  She says breathily.  
Steve smirks.  It’s always the same.  “What matters is I know how to use it, babe.  Let me show you.”  He lets King Steve step in and take the reins just for the night.  Just so he can forget.  He falls into old habits from before, when he didn’t have to worry about monsters other than his own father and his impending future.  
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“How was the date?”  Robin asks, as if bored, as if she already knows what he is going to say.  And maybe she does. She is shelving some returns and turns to look at Steve as he answers
“It was ok.”
“Not the one.”  She doesn’t ask, she just knows. 
“Not the one.”  Steve confirms.”But she was nice, and we had a good time.”
“Eww.” Robin shudders. 
“What?!  I didn’t say anything.”
“I know what you meant, Dingus.  And I can see your hickey.” She tugs his collar open to assess it more.  “Was she a suckerfish?”
Steve laughs, head thrown back. “God, Robin.  I love you.  If we don’t find our soulmates by thirty let's get married and live a long happy celebate life together.”
“That is the best proposal I have ever gotten.”  Robin sounds truly touched.  “But for both our sakes, I hope we both find the one.” She ruffles his hair, and he ducks away. “You’re on rewind duty today.”  She sing-songs at the end. 
“Great, just great.”He groans as he walks towards the rewinder.  Steve hates rewind duty.  His mind could too easily wander.  
“I’ll put on the Breakfast Club if you want.”  Robin says. 
Steve just gives a curt nod.  Again she knows.  Robin always knows. 
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Eddie wakes up sweating.  He looks down to his palms expecting to see splinters from a rough bat, nails protruding from it.  It was heavy and deadly.  He could almost feel the weight of the swing from the vivid dream.  
He had seen broad hands with short clipped nails holding the thing.  So his soulmate was still there.  It had been a long time since he had seen any signs of him in his dreams. He pulls his curls up into the scrunchie Ronnie had given him years ago to get it up off his neck and face.  He grabs a pack of smokes and heads to the couch on the porch.  
Fuck. 
He looks over to the trailer across the way. A mom and her daughter had moved in not too long ago and Eddie is certain he has seen this kid somewhere before.  Was she in high school?  She could be a freshman. He slumps into the worn old couch and lights up.  
Three AM on Monday, and he knows he isn’t getting any more sleep tonight.  The fear flowing from the dream was still coursing through him.  He wants to run and get that energy out of him.  He wants to fight and show he could be there for his soulmate somehow.  He wants to cry that this is a memory for his soulmate.  
Wherever he is, Eddie needs to get him out.  If there was some way to transmit certain memories, to know he could manipulate the system and get him a message.  What would he say to him?  Hey, it’s me, your soulmate.  Can you tell me where you are and how to get you out?  I would like to meet you and keep you alive. 
He shakes his head.  He wonders what dreams his soulmate has.  What of his memories does his soulmate see?  
God, hopefully none of school.  That would be embarrassing.  
He tosses his spent cigarette into the nearly naked shrubs and heads back inside.  He has new plot lines to write.  He imagines which of his party he wants to put into the heroic spotlight of wielder of the bat.  Well, probably a mace.  
It might give Gareth a boost of confidence if he lands a few winning blows.  He could manipulate it to make sure the weapon lands in his hands this week.  
He sketches the dog sized creatures he had seen.  They were kind of middle sized of the other creatures but had some similar features.  The maw and petal-like faces were key indicators they were a subspecies of them at least.  
He sketches and writes plotlines based on rolls  and outcomes until his alarm rings to wake him for school.  He then stretches and gets some clothes so he can shower and get ready for the day.  
It was going to be a long day. 
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Steve loves dreaming his soulmate dreams. First, it means he doesn’t have nightmares of upside down proportions.  Second, it means he gets a glimpse into what he will have one day.  He's waking up from one of those dreams now.  There was a set of wonderfully graceful hands on a guitar.  It was acoustic and the notes were not perfect. The sounds of someone learning their craft flowed into the dream.  
His soulmate is a musician.  The music was moving, soulful even in its clumsiness. 
This was not the first of musical dreams.  Steve knew it was important to his soulmate.  He spends his free time listening to different songs, looking for the song she was practicing.  He knows he will find it one day.  He won’t forget it. 
He is almost late to get Robin for school after getting wrapped up in going through his mom’s records.  The song sounded so familiar, he’s sure it's in the collection.  He grabs a couple of cassettes on the way out and runs to the car.  
Shoving in the first cassette, he pulls into the road and heads to Robin’s.  He’ll drop her off, go for a run, then get ready to open shop at family video.  
The song that starts isn't the right one so he fast forwards for a moment.  When he hits play the drums on the steering wheel to the next song.  Not the winner, but a good one, he sings along.  
He feels free in his car.  Especially when he's alone.  That's rare these days.  Either Robin or Dustin or any of the others are filling his seats with noise and body heat.  
Some days it feels like it's suffocating.  Some days he wants nothing more than to drive alone, windows down, loud pounding music blasting.  
Some days he wants to keep driving until Hawkins is a distant memory he can eventually forget.  
He sighs.  That's never going to happen.  He'd never leave Robin.  He can't leave until he knows the kids are safe.  
He slams his palms on the wheel and then turns onto Robin's Street.  He takes a few deep breaths and slaps a smile on before Robin comes galloping clumsily towards the car. 
“Dingus! Good morning.”  
“Robbie.  You look stunning today.” 
Robin swats at him before lowering the mirror to apply the makeup her parents didn't know about.  Eye liner and mascara expertly applied while Steve drives slowly so as to not make her poke an eye out and to give her time to finish. 
She has on a soft baby blue sweater with cargo pants and doc martens. Her hair is wavy, bangs starting to be a bit too long.  She sweeps them to the side over and over as she chatters about the plans for the day. 
Steve replies when needed. He tells her again to just ask Vicki out.  She waves it off again.  It's an everyday thing for them these days. 
“Anyway, I'll see you  after school. Love you, Steve.”  She kisses his cheek and hops out to race to her day as he returns the love.  
Steve zones out on his way home.  He turns the music up and just lets the road lead him.  He lets out a breath when he parks and gets out to start his run.  
Walkman in hand, he continues listening for the song.  It was starting to get fuzzy and he didn't want to lose it.  The music is a good tempo for his run.  
He lets the music take him.  
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After School, Steve is there to pick her up.  They have a shift together.  Closing. Yay. Steve smiles as Robin tells him about her day.  About her encounter with vickie. 
“I just don’t know.”  Robin says, scrunching her face.
“Do you think she’s it?”  Steve asked. 
“I don’t know.”  Robin shakes her head. 
“Well even more reason to give it a try.”  Steve is sure that this is it for Robin.   She gets so flustered talking about her.  
“She’s not even gay, Steve.”
“How do you know?  Is she wearing an “I’m Straight” shirt?”  
“You know it's not that easy.”  She looks down into her lap, slowly putting her mascara into her backpack.  “It’s scary.”  it comes out quiet. 
“I have a good feeling about her, Robin.”  Steve quiets down too.  He is being totally sincere, and he wants Robin to be happy. 
They ride the rest of the way to the store in silence.  
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Eddie has been prepping for this next leg of the campaign.  He cracks his knuckles as everyone enters for the quest. “Ah, I hope all is well with you all. Hope you're well rested for quick thinking as we pick up from last week's adventure.” He starts.  
Everyone sets up quickly, ready to take down their foe.  
“When we last left off, you had been led to what appears could be your demise.  A long, angry, petal faced creature is chittering and growling at you.  Its drool is hot and acidic, you must avoid it as you ready yourselves for battle.  As you approach the creature, it is bouncing on the balls of its feet, ready to lunge in an instant.  Roll initiative.”  Eddie says, easing them back into the world. 
The battle is on.  Turn after turn of a mix of high rolls and low, Gareth and Jeff are low on hit points, leaving Frank to make a decision.  Eddie is holding in his laugh.  They just need one more hit.  If Frank gets a 17 or more, they will take him down.  Then Eddie has a planned rest before he begins their trek to find their way out.  
Frank has a look of concentration on his face as he says, “I am going to do it.  Let’s go for the kill.” 
Jeff and Gareth look stressed but hopeful that they will win with this. 
Frank  rolls.  
18.
“That’s a hit!”  Eddie whoops.  “You watch the flower-faced monster as it screams and turns to ash.  Travelers, you have time for a hard earned rest. So, for the night, you find shelter and make plans of how to return home when you are well rested.”
The guys start plotting what their moves will be when the rest is over.  Eddie’s mind wanders to his last dream.  Sometimes he wishes he could talk to someone about his soulmate.  He just knows his friends would be horrified by the memories he sees.  Plus, he would have to admit his soulmate was a man.  He knows he is.  The thick fingers and short brown hair that falls into view sometimes.  And he is not really out to his friends.  Though he thinks Jeff knows.  Jeff has hinted that he would be cool.  
But Eddie is scared.  That if he admits it, it becomes real, and then they could decide it's too much.  He is too much.  
“Ed?”  Gareth says like he has said his name a few times. 
“Oh shit, sorry.  Zoned out.” he shakes his curls around a bit then gets back into character.
Eddie leads them to victory over a few more small creatures, setting up the big battle for next week.  He is only half into it as his brain spins.  He needs to get out and just let his mind go, but he can’t do that here.  Not in front of them.  And he needs a joint.  
“Ok, ok.  You all have done great.  Next week, you will see if you make it home and collect your bounty.”  Eddie gives them a smile. It feels fake, it hurts his cheeks.  
They all leave, chattering all the while.  And Eddie cannot get out of there soon enough.  
He stops himself from squealing tires, peeling out and heads towards the lake.  He parks where he knows just a little ways down is Skull Rock.  He pulls a joint out and lights up as he sits on top of the rock.  He just watches the sky as the deep blue turns to black and the stars shine brighter.  
“Fuck,”  He blows out his last puff and flicks the nub into the forest somewhere. 
He hears a crunch of feet on leaves, and he goes still.  He doesn't want trouble.  And he definitely does not want to have to deal with a horny couple boning.  He leans back on his elbows, trying to stay unseen.  
He hears grumbling.  Definitely male.  Then he hears WHACK! And he has to see what is happening.  
“FUCK!” The figure yells and then another WHACK!  
 Eddie crawls close to the edge. And he sees something that makes his heart and stomach both drop.  It's the bat.  THE bat.  The nails bent and sharp, stick into the bark of the tree as the guy just keeps beating at the thing.  
Eddie’s eyes have long since adjusted to the dim light and he can make out a figure he recognizes.   The recognizable swoop of hair and the thick shoulders of non other than Steve Fucking Harrington.  
Nope.  
No. 
This is not happening.  
This is not right. 
His stomach turns.  This is a cruel fucking sick joke.  His soulmate cannot be Harrington.  He must have taken the bat, or found it.   Or anything but it being true.  
If Eddie could see his hands.  He would know. He’d recognize the hands he had seen in so many dreams.  The hands he hopes one day will run over his body, the hands he wants to hold as they walk together.  The ones he imagines are warm and soft and dry when they reach for him.  
He flops back onto the rock.  If king Steve, womanizer extraordinaire is really his soulmate?  Well, he can kiss those dreams goodbye.  
Eddie doesn’t realize that he was crying about it.  But after Harrington skinned half the tree, he headed back to his car and left, Eddie’s cheeks were sticky and stiff with the salty remains of dry tears. His heart ached in his chest and he knew. 
He knew it was true.  
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Hi! I am back. While my other stories live in writer's block purgatory, please accept this as a placeholder in my normal writing spots for now. :) its been a rough couple of months for me but I am hoping this is my grand return!
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yangtaros · 11 months
Text
husband to be… he just doesn’t know it yet
very sweet fluff between mark lee and a female reader
warning: kissing and very bold flirting
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glances were stolen from across the classroom when mark saw you walk in.
“you’re one minute from being late” he tells you.
“are you counting down the minutes until you see me?” you ask him, you grow nervous as you sit down in the chair next to him. he doesn’t respond. “did you understand the homework?”
you nodded, “yes i finally got it”
“great. i’m glad my tips worked. and your natural talent of course” you giggled and glanced at him for a second.
you guys have been doing this for months. talking only during class. you like mark. he’s so cute and kind and nice and you can barely look at him when he’s next to you because you’re so in love. yes in love. he’s your future husband you’re sure of it. if only you could look at him.
mark is biting his pen, he does that when he is nervous. he’s around you so his pen has bite marks. he likes this class.
you like this class.
“i like your shirt” mark whisperes lightly pulling the sleeve.
“thanks” you pull his sleeve. why did you pull his sleeve?
“i like yours too”
“yes my basic shirt is amazing right” he was so nervous but responded as if he wasn’t. this entire class is an hour of puppy love between you two. and you enjoy it.
“you make it not basic”
“you just wanted to pull my sleeve” he pulls your sleeve again, accidentally hitting your knee when he pulls back.
“and you just wanted to touch my knee”
you both sit in the back, not that interested in science. more interested in each other. you still can barely look at him.
“if i wanted to i would’ve just touched your knee” he touches your knee. then he pokes your side.
“stop i’m ticklish”
“i’m just saying i can touch you whenever”
you laughed
“wait that sounded” he was cut off by you poking him in the side.
he catches your wrist gently in attempt to tickle him
“no fair” you say.
mark adjusts his hand to keep your arm in his hold, “don’t trick me and try it again”
you gave him a ‘maybe’ face
“that’s why i’m keeping your arm”
he was telling the truth. he kept your arm in his lap for the rest of class. even drawing on it with his fingers lightly
“thanks for the massage” you said while packing up your belongings
“it wasn’t for you it was for me”
“i don’t know what you mean by that but if that means you’ll do it again next class then okay”
“you know it doesn’t just have to be in class”
you searched for a response, “mhm great yeah”
on the way out you both stayed together instead of parting.
“it could be in my dorm as you explain to me the lesson because i was focusing more on my arm” you worked up the courage to say all that but could barely look at him.
“i’m not doing anything, lead the way”
once you got to your dorm you thanked God you cleaned up the day before
“mi casa su casa”
mark laughed
“do you want anything to drink?”
“water is fine”
“okay you can set your stuff on the couch”
your maybe future husband was in your dorm on your couch. now you have to look at him.
“here’s your water”
“thanks. now do you even know the name of todays lesson”
“ just remember you tickling me”
mark fought the urge to poke your sides again, “okay let’s start from the beginning”
“wait aren’t i supposed to be getting another arm massage”
mark laughed and reached for your arm. now you both were closer on the couch. he started drawing on your arm again, “this is so calming” you say.
mark boldly traced up your arm all the way up to your shoulder and down to your fingers. “i gotta let you try”, you say to mark while gently grabbing his arms and tracing them lightly
“yeah it does feel good”
“see”
you brought your fingers up to his neck, your nervousness gone
“y/n, the neck is sensitive”
“is it?” you giggled.
you didn’t grab mark to come closer to you, he came closer on his own.
“yeah it is”, his breath wavered.
you wrap both hands around the back of his neck and meet him at eye level
mark chuckles, “what are we doing”
“i don’t know” you draw circles around his jawline, then leaned over to leave a soft kiss in the same spot
“oh so this is why you invited me over” he moved his head back to give you more space
your kisses trailed down to his neck
“we can go over the lesson later” mark said while melting into the neck kisses you were giving him.
the neck kisses didn’t last long as mark now realized he could take the lead. he slightly pushed you back against the couch before gripping your waist. he captured your lips in his and didn’t hold back. it’s like he’d been waiting for the moment to kiss you. his teeth grazed your bottom lip as he pulled you even closer.
you pull back to look at him. you can look at him now
“i knew you wanted to touch my knee”
mark chuckes, “maybe i did”
soon your getting pulled back into his lips. his hands roam everywhere, he decides to roam under your shirt, pulling you as close to him as he can. while taking a breath to switch angles he mumbles, “you’re so pretty”
“thank you-” he kissed you again
your husband to be.
request here
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l1tw1ck · 2 years
Text
Heizou and the Dad He'd Like to Fuck
Your neighbor Heizou decides to pay you a visit
FTM!Heizou x Top!Male Reader
Warnings: Non-Con Somnophilia, Oral, Creampie, Age Gap (Reader Age Unspecified), Daddy Kink
Words: 1,323
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"Oh, Heizou? What brings you here?" You open the door to your neighbor. He was wearing a very cute outfit, a loose white tank top and brown booty shorts. If you looked at him from the side, you could see a part of his tits. He apparently wasn't the type to wear bras.
"I know you're alone during the day so I wanted to give you some company! I made you something...it's my own special recipe," Heizou smiles and shows you the dish he made. "I call it The Only Truth."
"It looks great, I appreciate that you're thinking of me Heizou. Come in." You step out of the doorway, allowing Heizou to come in. You lead him to the table and go into the kitchen to look for the right utensils to eat it.
"How have you been?" You ask, sitting across from Heizou.
"I've been great! I'm actually the top of my class." Heizou grins smugly.
"Congrats!" You clap. "I can't wait til my kids get to college." You sigh happily.
"Thanks, I wonder what major they'll choose." Heizou smiles at your expression.
"This is amazing, Heizou! You're a great cook!" You praise him. "That's a good skill to have y'know? Especially when you get married, you gotta pull your weight."
"Y- yeah. Thank you.." Heizou blushes.
"I'm not the greatest cook myself, my husband is the one who cooks here. I make up for it with my job though." You laugh. You didn't work everyday but you got paid very well.
Heizou smiles.
The two of you continue talking and end up watching TV on the couch. You got yourself a few cans of beer, it was very early for you to be drinking but you were feeling stressed.
"(Name), is everything okay?" Heizou asks.
"Yeah....no..." You shook your head.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't wanna bother you with it. You're only 19, you don't wanna hear an old man like me vent."
"I do, just tell me." Heizou insists.
"Alright..." You sigh.
"Me and my husband haven't been getting along lately. We're really only together for the kids. I want a divorce but it would hurt our kids. My husband sleeps in the guest room now." You take a big sip of your drink. "I know it's bad to stay together with the kids but the both of us have traits our kids can't live without. He cooks and I work. His job doesn't pay enough to properly support the kids."
"I see.." Heizou hides a smile. "If you were to get a divorce, would you have full custody?"
"I'd want to but they'd have to eat my shitty cooking everyday." You laugh.
"I could cook for them."
"You're a college student, you should focus on that instead. Not somebody else's kids."
"If I lived here though...I live alone so it'd be nice to be around a family."
"Why would you want to?"
"Because I like you." Heizou leans towards you.
You look at him in shock. I mean, sure you had a few passing sinful thoughts about Heizou but you never wanted to indulge in them. The age gap kept you away.
"Heizou-"
"I know we haven't known each other long but I really do like you." Heizou goes in to kiss you, locking your lips together.
And maybe it was because you were feeling upset and had 2 cans of beer, but you found yourself kissing him back.
Heizou moves his hand past your thigh, palming your crotch.
"Mm- Hey-" You put your hand on his wrist.
Heizou frowns. "Why?"
"Kissing is where I draw the line, okay? You're just too young." You move his hand away.
"I'm an adult! I live alone, how am I too young?" Heizou huffs.
"Maybe in a few years but I just can't date a 19 year old. It's not right."
"How? I don't understand...This is perfectly legal!"
"It's not right to me, I'm sorry. I think you should go home." You stand up.
Heizou sighs and reluctantly leaves the house, not without secretly swiping the extra key though.
──────────────────
*Both of you are whispering i just dont wanna italicize all of it sorry*
Heizou sneaks into your house late at night, knowing you'd be there asleep. He knows all too well how illegal his entire plan is but he doesn't care. It's not like he's going to murder you.
He creeps into your room and quietly makes his way onto your bed. He thanks the Archons for your bad marriage.
He pulls down your pants and underwear, freeing your soft dick. He spits on his hand and jerks you off to full size, he was practically drooling at the sight.
He licks the tip of your dick, taking in the taste and smell of your pre cum, before he sucks you off.
You weren't too heavy of a sleeper so you eventually woke up to Heizou's head bobbing up and down on your dick.
"What the-" Your words are cut off by a low moan forcing its way out of your mouth.
Heizou reluctantly removes his mouth from your dick and looks up at you. "You're awake.."
Yeah, and incredibly horny. You had an erection that needed to be taken care of and you were so damn worked up and tired you decided to use Heizou to do it.
You pulled Heizou up and pinned him down on the bed. You took his shorts off with ease. The dim light that shone from the curtains revealed Heizou's ecstatic expression.
"Yes!" Heizou pulls his shirt off then his underwear. He was dripping wet, he even had slick on the inner part of his thighs.
"You're a whore, you know that?" You line your dick up to his hole.
"I'm a whore!" Heizou nods. "Please fuck this slutty little whore daddy!"
You were glad your kids never called you that.
"Don't you dare complain, got it?" You started to ease yourself into him.
"Mm- yes daddy~" Heizou nods, biting his lip to hold back his moans.
"Fuck- you're tight." You groan, stopping and giving Heizou time to adjust.
"Move, please."
"'S gonna hurt."
"Please daddy." Heizou pouts. "I won't complain at all."
"Fuck. Fine." You grip onto his waist, thrusting into him like there's no tomorrow. Heizou covers his mouth, his small tits moving along with your thrusts. You regretted rejecting him earlier.
"Mmph~!"
You hated that you couldn't hear his moans but there was no way in hell you were going to stop and change locations.
"You're doing so good." You groan. "Just like that, taking me so well."
Heizou bites his hand, holding back a loud moan.
"You're so much fucking better than my husband." You praise Heizou. "He rarely had sex with me. You're so perfect compared to him..."
He bites harder, he's so happy but he has to be quiet.
"I could make you into my wife. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Your hand trails up to Heizou's chest, your thumb circling his nipple.
Heizou nods his head rapidly.
"I'd fuck you all the damn time." You lean into his ear. "You'd be my little bitch."
"D- da~ daddy~" Heizou manages to speak quietly. "Cu- cu-" He covers his mouth again as he feels his orgasm quickly approaching.
"Slut." That one word is enough to have Heizou's back arching as he has the most intense orgasm he's ever had. He squirts all over the two of you.
"Fuck-" You feel your own orgasm coming after witnessing that. "I'm close."
Heizou wraps his legs around you, making sure you don't go anywhere.
"You want me to- fuck-" You couldn't hold it in anymore, you shoot your load into him.
"Mm~" Heizou removes his hands and grins.
You pull out and flip Heizou over, lifting his ass up and watching as your cum drips down onto your bed. You'll clean the sheets in the morning.
"Daddy?" Heizou looks back at you, confused.
"What? You thought that was it?" You smirk. "I'm gonna pound you til the sun comes up."
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ikn0wtheend · 11 months
Text
thoroughfare - modern!ellie x reader
summary: you knew ellie once and a road trip back home together complicates things more than it should. 
pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
word count: ~4.5k
c/w: angst, fluff, mutual pining, language, implied sex, hopeful ending? loser lesbians as always.
a/n: um I do not know where this came from seeing as this is quite the diversion from ‘the record’ but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I was just listening to ethel cain’s ‘thoroughfare’ (as a girlie does) and I blacked out and apparently wrote 4k words of whatever this is. spoiler alert: they don’t even make it back home, they drive for like 5 hours. as always let me know what you think and if you’d like me to make this a series (I'm currently on the fence about it). <3
main masterlist & thoroughfare [2]
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It was hot. The kind of hot that doesn’t give you a reprieve no matter how many layers you take off or how hard you fan yourself with your hand. It was sticky and miserable. You want to claw at your skin. 
Sitting on the sidewalk you waited for Dina to arrive, you hadn’t really gotten the full details from her. All she had said was “meet outside your apartment” giving you a specific day at a specific time. But you couldn’t complain, you were the one that had called her in distress, forgetting about timezones when she answered the phone half-awake.
Someone eclipses the sun from their spot next to you. You turn with your hand above your brow to get a better look at them and when you do your face automatically scrunches up. 
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“Why the fuck are you sitting on the sidewalk?” 
You stand up, brushing your pants off. “Oh fuck you, Ellie.” 
“No fuck you.” She retorts.
You were going to punch her. Right here. Right on this very sidewalk. You were going to draw your fist back and punch the freckles on her left cheek off of her face. You clench your fists. “I’m not gonna stand here and argue with you.” 
“You started it.” 
“You’re really gonna play the blame game?”
“Who the fuck calls it a ‘blame game’?”
“Literally everybody you fuckwad.”
“So we’re calling each other names now?” She places both hands on her hips. “You’re such an asshole.”
“I see you’ve lost your touch.” You mirrored her stance. “Asshole isn’t very creative.”
“Neither is fuckwad, you fuckwad.”
You throw your hands up. “Jesus Christ, you’re impossible.”
“No you’re imposs-”
Your phone rang interrupting Ellie from finishing, what you were sure was a very clever rebuttal, Dina’s name flashing on the screen. You quickly turn your back to Ellie and answer.
“Hey-”
Dina cuts you off. “Has she shown up yet?”
“Who?” 
“Ellie.” 
You sucked in a breath and pinch between your eyes. “Dina, please don’t tell me my ride across the country is Ellie.” You chanced a look at the girl in question, painfully aware of the way she raised her eyebrows to remind you she could still hear you. 
“Um yeah? You said you need a ride and that it was urgent and Ellie was closest.” Dina stated simply. As though she didn’t know that this was bound to create a mess, one you might not recover from. 
“Okay maybe I exaggerated when I said ‘urgent’, I would’ve happily of waited for you or Jesse.” The words rush out of you, eager to get her to understand and to undo this mess. 
“You were literally in tears when you called and like I said Ellie was closest. You’ll be fine.” She said flippantly. As though she wasn’t a first-hand witness to the shit-storm that had happened two years ago. 
“I don’t think we share the same definition of ‘fine’, Dina.” Her name comes out with a bite. 
You hear a long sigh. “Look just trust me on this. And hey maybe this will be good for the both of you, you’ll finally be able to talk about it.” 
“Did it even occur to you that I left because I didn’t want to talk about it?” 
“Fair point.” She concedes. “But listen I can’t come get you until next week, and that's being generous, so just suck it up and come home. I miss you.”
Fuck, you thought. You couldn’t stay here, not for another week, and hearing Dina say she missed you made you press the heel of you palm into your chest to try and calm the ache. It wasn’t the first time she had told you she missed you since you left, you heard it everytime you called. Sometimes when the time stretched thin between the two of you she would send you a text reminding you she was thinking of you. That she hadn’t forgotten. 
“Okay.” 
“Yeah?” You can hear the concern in her voice now. 
“Yeah. Thank you.” You clear your throat. “I miss you too.” You really did.
She throws out a number of goodbyes and ‘I love you’s’, words you return, before she hangs up. You take a deep breath before turning to look at Ellie again who was standing there with your bags in her arms. She looked silly, you thought. Adorable. You scowl.
“I can carry my own things you know?” 
“Just get your arse across the road and into the car.”
“Sir yes sir.” 
You think you hear a huff of laughter escape her, you think the heat is making you imagine things.
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You’re avoiding looking at Ellie, instead you’re focused on the stretch of road laid out in front of you. The two of you had been stuck at a stand-still for the last couple of hours, neither wanting to be the one to break the silence. Maybe it had less to do with not wanting to and more to do with not knowing what to say. 
You knew her once, could tell anyone that would listen how loud she liked her music, the way she took her tea. You knew which side of the bed she preferred despite her protests that it was childish to have a favourite - it was the left. 
You knew her. You knew her. You knew her. 
You’re not sure if you still do. Her hair is different and her shoes look new - you don’t recognise the brand of air freshener hanging from the mirror. This time when you feel an ache in your chest it feels like something akin to grief. But she still looks like your life two years ago and the thought that you might not look the same makes you slump in your chair. 
It’s another silent hour before you make your first stop at the gas station, even so Ellie still gets out of the car without saying a word. You watch her for a second, eyeing the way she leaned back against the car with her arms crossed over her chest, before unbuckling your seatbelt and heading inside to grab some snacks. 
You take your time browsing down the aisles, glad for the chance to stretch your legs for a bit. There was something about gas stations that made you nostalgic, something about you and Ellie at a gas station that made you nostalgic even though she was outside pumping the gas. There were too many times to count when the two of you would make your way to the closest one at all hours of the night to stockpile on chips and candy for movie nights. You would walk through every single aisle and she would follow, not once complaining over the fact that you got the same things everytime and they were two aisles over. She would hold out a hand to carry the food and you would pay, swatting at her whenever she tried to sneak her card to the cashier who looked far too tired to even act amused. Ellie would say ‘thank you’ and you would tell her that it was on her next time although you both knew that was a lie. 
So you allow your mind to wander and your feet to carry you aimlessly. You rely on muscle memory to take you where you need to go because all these gas stations are built the same. You pay and try to leave the memories at the automatic doors.
Ellie is still standing outside the car when you exit with a full bag, arms still crossed. You call her name and chuck a chocolate bar at her a bit more aggressively than you originally planned, because it hits her square in the chest and falls to the ground with a sad splat. Ellie looks at you irritated. 
“What the fuck?” 
You wince, shoulders up by your ears. “Sorry.” You say sheepishly. 
She rolls her eyes as she bends down to grab the bar off of the ground, you see the moment her harden gaze softens and as quick as it was there it was gone again. She rises slowly, flipping the bar around in her hands. 
“I hope they’re still your favourite.” You wring your hands together.
She nods. “Get in the car, we gotta go.” Before you can respond she turns her back to you and retreats to the car. 
You puff out your cheeks before blowing the air out and make your way back to the passenger side, dumping your bag of snacks onto the floor in front of you. You buckle your seatbelt and lift your head to see Ellie already looking at you, she raises an eyebrow in lieu of asking if you’re ready. You nod.
The two of you drive in silence for roughly another 30 minutes before the urge to speak hits you. The last time you were in this car, you and Ellie talked until you couldn’t breathe, saying whatever was on your mind and taking breaks to sing whatever song was playing. You fear that if you don’t say something now you might choke. 
“Do you remember the time Dina was learning to drive and she hit the curb so hard she started crying?” You don’t know why this is the thing your brain conjured up, maybe the combination of recycled air and the smell of Ellie’s cologne was getting to you. 
Ellie snorts in surprise and looks between you and road. “How could I forget. We had to drive home with a flat tire.”
You’re laughing now, “And you had to bribe her back into the car with the promise of burgers.” You throw your head back. 
Ellie’s laughing now too, a far away look on her face. “Yeah I did, didn’t I? Jesus Christ I thought she was gonna stand in the middle of the street all night and someone was gonna run her over, honestly I wouldn’t of blamed them.” One of her hands was off the wheel and gesturing wildly. “I don’t even know why she was standing on the road, the car was halfway up the sidewalk she should’ve stood there.”
Your laughter tapers off but a wistful smile remains on your face, you see Ellie look at you funny out of the corner of your eye. “What?” You ask softly, your eyes now on her profile. Pretty, you think.
“Nothing. Your laugh sounds the same.”
You struggle to maintain your composure. “Is that a bad thing?”
She shakes her head. “No. Just makes me remember.”
You don’t ask what exactly it was she remembers, because you think that it doesn’t really matter. She remembers your laugh and that's enough for you. It has to be, because you know you weren’t in the position to ask for more. 
 Ellie hesitantly calls out your name this time. 
“Yeah?”
“Why did you leave?”
The question was sobering, you were expecting it the moment you saw her yet it still made you flinch. “I couldn’t stay.” You say. 
You don’t elaborate.
She furrows her brow and you have the urge to smooth it out gently with your thumb and apologise for being the reason that its there. “Why didn’t you come back?” She tries again, voice strained like it hurt her to ask. Maybe it did.
You give her a smile. “I am now aren’t I?” 
“I don’t know, are you?”
Your smile falters. 
“Fuck you.” You snap, smile fully gone and replaced with something harsh. You quickly try and backtrack. “I’m sorry-”
“No it’s okay.” You both know it’s not okay. “I shouldn’t of asked.”
“Ellie-”
“Do you want to listen to something?” She interjects as she reaches over you to open the glovebox and pull out a stack of CD’s with one hand, you remember buying her some of them, she plops them down in your lap. “Take your pick. That Fleetwood Mac one is in there somewhere if that’s still your thing.” It was still your thing. 
You grab something different instead, something that you couldn’t immediately attach a memory to and put it in the slot and press play. 
You had swapped out the CD playing twice before you finally gathered the courage to speak to Ellie again, still embarrassed you had thrown your words at her face. 
“How have you been?” You wince at your own words.
She turns to look at you incredulously. “Is that really what you’re going with?” 
You huff even though you knew that it was a dumb question. “Fine. Why did you say yes to driving me home?” 
“Dina forced me.” She was quick with her response.
You let the words sink in before asking another question. “You still could’ve said no.” The Ellie you knew was much more stubborn than Dina, could often outlast any insisting from her.
You watch as she shuffles in her seat and sighs. “Yeah I could’ve but then she would’ve annoyed me about it for forever, so it was easier to just say yes right off the bat.”
Silence fills the air once more as you think about it. Something wasn’t right and perhaps the stifling air in the car was making you agitated or perhaps Ellie wasn’t telling you the truth. The sky was so blue out here, you think.
“Not everything has to mean something.” She blurts out in irritation.
You turn your head to find her already looking at you. “What?”
“I can tell you’re sitting there trying to pick apart what I just said.” She bites at you like you did her, eyes darting between you and the road rapidly as her knuckles grow white from where she clenches the steering wheel. “You do it so fucking much that you forget to fucking listen. Not everyone is trying to speak to you in fucking riddles you know? Maybe, just maybe, when someone tells you their favourite colour’s blue they just really fucking love the colour blue. It has nothing to do with the ocean or the sky, it’s just something that is.”
There was a version of you that she knew and probably was expecting, the same version of you that had snapped at her earlier. That was a small lapse, one apparently Ellie managed to bring out of you. But that part of you that resides somewhere in your chest wanted to yell at her, deny everything she had just said and say something back that would hurt her - hurt you too when you see the look on her face. But nowadays you’re mostly just tired. Besides, she wasn’t exactly wrong.
You click your tongue and hold her stare when she looks back at you. “You done?”
Her chest heaves. “Yes.”
“Good.” You look away. “Focus on the road.”
You hum along to the song playing over the sound of her deep breathing as she tries to calm herself down. When some time passes you open up a bag of what used to be her favourite chips, you were unsure if she still liked them, but you still offer them to her first. You hold the bag steady when she huffs and sticks a hand into the bag to grab some. You’re still mad at her and you’re sure that she’s still mad at you, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care when she continues to crunch on the chips like her life depended on them. It was all so familiar.
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Your anger had settled into quiet exhaustion when Ellie pulls into a 24-hour diner. It was iffy-looking but there was something oddly charming about it. You follow her inside and take note of the outdated furniture and the weird smell permeating throughout the room, you like it, you think. 
Ellie slides into a booth and sitting across from her you see her under the fluorescent lights. She looked more gaunt here, eye bags prominent. You still thought she looked good. You pretend to look at the menu when its placed in front of you by a young teenage girl, knowing what you’ll get but wanting to look busy. The waitress, Betty her name tag says, comes by with a pot of coffee in her hand, she fills up your mug first and goes to fill up Ellie’s when you quickly cover the cup with your hand. Betty’s look of initial confusion is replaced with a big grin. 
“So, what can I get ya?” Her voice is chipper. 
You open your mouth the speak but Ellie beats you to the punch.
“She’ll get the pancakes, extra strawberries, and I’ll just get some bacon and eggs please.” Her eyes widen. “Sorry-”
“-No, it’s okay.”
“I must be tired from driving. I wasn’t really thinking-”
“-No really it’s okay.”
The sound of both your voices overlap as Ellie tries to apologise and as you try to tell her that it’s okay. It’s okay that she still knows you. You see Betty out of the corner of your eye watching in amusement, but to be fair the diner was empty so this was probably the most entertainment the place had been in awhile. 
“Is that all?” Betty asks, grin still taking over her face. 
“She’ll get a diet coke.” You say nodding your head in Ellie’s direction. She looks away with rosy cheeks.
“Y’all are cute. I’ll be right back.” You watch as Betty practically skips away. This diner was oddly charming indeed. 
You’re fiddling with the handle of your coffee cup when Ellie’s drink is deposited in front of her. There was an outrageous curly straw swirling from the tall glass and the sheer disbelief on Ellie’s face made you want to laugh. You lift your mug to hide your face behind it. It was decided then that you and Betty would make great friends.
“You think this is funny don’t you?” The defeat in Ellie’s face is endearing. 
You take a loud sip of your coffee, eyes meeting hers over your cup. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
She sighs. 
“It’s a straw Ellie.” You say, unable to hide the teasing in your tone. “If you don’t want to drink from it just drink straight from the glass.”
Ellie looks you dead in the eyes when she takes her first sip and you try to look anywhere but her mouth around that damn straw. She sucks the drink up and you watch the liquid travel around in its various loop-de-loops, Ellie releases the straw between her lips with an exaggerated lip smack. “Refreshing.”
You snort. “You’re making me jealous.”
She takes the opportunity. “Of the straw?” A single eyebrow lifts in question. 
“No you bitch.” You feel yourself begin to fluster. “I obviously meant of you. Because you got a cool straw and I got this chipped mug. I mean look at it-” you gesture wildly towards it, “-its bright pink and has like a million swirly things.” Swirly things? Really? Maybe Betty is better off remaining your waitress and not your best friend. It wouldn’t be too big of a loss, you didn’t know her that well anyway.
Ellie was laughing, very clearly proud of herself. “I’m just fucking with you.” She says. “You know that right?”
Right.
You avoid her eyes that were looking for yours, cheeks still warm. “Of course, no harm done.”
“Good.”
There’s a stretch of silence before you hesitantly break it. “Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
You pointedly make eye contact with her hoping that she sees if for what it is, an apology or an admission, either way you hoped she saw it. “I meant it when I said I couldn’t of stayed. Back in the car.” You hold up a hand to stop her from interrupting. “I know you’re gonna ask me why, but I don’t know if I can you reason.” 
She reaches across the table to grab your hand that had abandoned your mug. She looked feral in a way, eyes wild. “Try.” She begs. “Please.”
You nod and try to clear the lump forming in your throat. “I think I always wanted to leave, think you knew that too, but I wasn’t gonna leave without you and you weren’t gonna stay without me.” Ellie nods and you continue. “And I would’ve been happy, more than happy to continuing the life that I was living with you. You were my best friend. But do you remember when we got into the argument? The one right before I left?”
You watch as Ellie looks down at your intertwined hands and gulps. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”
“Yeah I remember it too.” You give her hand a squeeze. “I called you every name in the book and you told me that it was suffocating being my friend.” 
She grips you tighter as though she was scared you’ll pull away. “I didn’t mean it-”
“I know.” At the time you wished you had read between the lines to find the something in her words, in the same way she had berated you over in the car. Because she did mean it when she said it and you had felt the same way back but hadn’t put it into words. The two of you were suffocated by the love you had for each other that was disguised as being merely platonic. “But Ellie, I left because I was suffocating me too.” 
It seemed as though Betty had impeccable timing because there she was happy as a clam with your two plates of food. You look at Ellie looking at your hands still holding each other and you think Betty was either your saviour or your worst enemy. 
“Here you two go!” You and Ellie break apart. “And here’s your extra strawberries.” Betty gives you a wink and skips back to wherever she appeared from. 
Ellie looks between you and the food. You give her a smile. “Eat. I’ll still be here to talk about it later.” The words you said sounded awfully like a promise.
Betty comes back to grab your empty plates, coffee in hand as she pours you another. “Can I get you another diet coke?” She tempts.
“No I’m okay. Thank you.” Ellie says.
“No problem, holler if you need anything.” There she goes again.
Ellie calls your name this time, you leave your mug untouched. “What did you mean when you said that you were suffocating yourself too?”
“Everytime I looked at you I felt like I was dying.” It wasn’t a full answer, but you weren’t ready to give so much of yourself away. You feel the same way you did two years ago before you left. “Do you understand?” Please understand, you think.
She looks at you with something in her stare that feels holy, like a revelation. “Yeah I think I do.” 
The period of time between you meeting Ellie and now is often remembered in differing stages of hurt. The hurt in your hands when you clenched your fists too tightly that time in class when you saw her staring at a girl you couldn’t even name. The hurt on your hip when the two of you got matching tattoos. The hurt in your heart when you went away and stayed away. 
The waiting hurt and so did the leaving.
And the realisation that it didn’t need to hurt, especially for as long as you did, left you feeling unsettled. The hurt was familiar, almost as familiar as Ellie, and you didn’t know if you could leave it behind too. Didn’t know if you would survive it. But surviving wasn’t living and this hurt could feel different. Because maybe, finally, all this love will have a place to go. 
You stand up to go pay and Ellie doesn’t try to stop you like she used to. You leave Betty a big tip and she gives you a cheesy grin in return with her thanks. Ellie is waiting by the front door with her shoulders slumped and hands fiddling when you turn around. You walk towards her. 
“Let’s stop somewhere for the night, yeah?”
“Yeah-” her voice cracks and she clears her throat, “-yeah sounds good.”
When you arrive to the closest motel it wasn’t nearly half as charming as the diner you had just eaten in. There was also no Betty to greet you at the front desk, instead a ragged man who was staring a bit too hard at you told you there was only one room left available. He looked far too happy when he sensed your discomfort. 
Ellie places a foot right in front of where you’re standing and steps forward, obstructing your view. “We’ll take it.” She pays this time.
The man throws the keys on top of the counter and grumbles to himself. Ellie places a hand on the small of your back when you turn to walk away and you subconsciously lean into it before you feel her nudge you along. The two of you made the walk to your room in silence but you can still feel the heat from her hand radiating up your spine. You shiver.
Ellie taps your hip, a gesture you remember, to get you to move aside. She swings both bags she was carrying on her shoulder higher so she can open the door and you’re immediately met with the sight of a bed, there was other furniture in the room but the bed really stood out. 
There was one bed. 
It’s okay, you thought. You had shared a bed with Ellie multiple times, you practically lived at her house that one summer and all the summers following. 
“Are you coming?”
You don’t trust your words so you nod and step inside. You didn’t realise closing the door would make the room seem infinitely smaller otherwise you might’ve left it open and just dealt with whatever the consequences were. Because there was still only one bed inside of a really small room. You try and play it cool. 
“You’re taking the left.” Smooth.
Ellie agrees easily. “Fine by me.”
You watch as she throws the bags onto the bed and begin rooting through hers, pulling out an old t-shirt that you recognised and a pair of sweatpants. She makes her way to the bathroom without once looking at you. You huff and grab your pyjamas too, changing into them hurriedly and lying down on the right side.
Ellie turns off the light and joins you in bed, the two of you staring at the ceiling. You hear her breathing and it sounds like your childhood. It sounds like your future too, the one you dream but never talk about. 
You both lay there under the covers on your backs and you think about how close she is to you. You didn’t know how to tell her you missed her, there simply weren’t enough words in the English language to express it, so you remained quiet. You think a lifetime has past when she decides to speak. In a way it had because you feel a new you being created in this dirty motel room. 
“I hate you for leaving.” Without me. You hear the unspoken words this time.
“I know.” 
“I hate you.” She states, stance firm.
“No you don’t.”
“No I don’t.”
You don’t know who reaches for who first, all you know is that you turn over and there she was, consuming your senses in a way only she knows how. You think about her lips on yours and the way her tongue traces your bottom lip. You think about her hands gripping your waist tight and the way she sighs into your mouth, you think that you want her to do it again. You think that everything about this road trip was doomed from the start. You think that it’s a problem for tomorrow’s version of you to deal with. 
You stop thinking when she pulls you on top of her and tugs at your shirt. You sigh into her mouth this time. 
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ghoststyles · 8 months
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Fairway to Heaven - Part 7
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You might wanna queue up Phoebe Bridgers for this one?
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It’s been five whole weeks since Harry received Camille’s package. The brown box sits in the back of Harry’s office closet, burning a hole in the floor. He left all of the contents alone, except Oliver’s birth photo and a drawing, which are now in a picture frame on his desk.
The drawing, made of crayon and construction paper, is of a cat (or so he thinks) next to the Eiffel tower. In large, messy letters reads ‘Pierre’. When he zones out during his meetings, he looks at it, wondering if Camille has made any promises to Oliver about meeting Harry.
It’s not that he’s avoiding going to Paris. He’d leave tomorrow if it were up to him. Reopening this chapter of his life means a lifestyle change, not just for himself, but for Briar. She’s 24. No one should be thrown into a life where they’re suddenly a step-mom. She can’t even rent a car alone in America, for God’s sake.
They’ve danced around the topic; neither of them really knowing what to do. Briar tries to keep busy by working at the club and spending time at her campus’s library. Harry can’t help but feel her pulling away. He prays this uncertainty from her is in his head as he feels his 30 year old self-destruction return.
The door to his son is wide open. He wishes someone would just fucking shove him through.
~
Briar is staring staring off into space at Cafe Benito, waiting for Madison to arrive. She taps her foot nervously, making direct eye contact with everyone who enters. She feels sneaky and that Harry could walk in at any minute.
The short brunette enters the cafe moments later, directly locking eyes with Briar at the corner table.
“Hi, Briar! So nice to finally meet you in person,” she smiles warmly, sitting down in the seat across from her. Briar pushes an iced latte toward her, to which she smiles gratefully. “Your message was a little cryptic. What’s up? And why did you want to meet in person?”
Briar takes a deep breath as she stares at Harry’s assistant, a woman she’s talked with numerous times over the phone, but has never met.
“Without getting into too much detail, Harry is dealing with a personal issue, and I think he might need a little help. I wanted to get in touch with you, since you know his schedule and travel preferences.”
“Oh, sure, sure. What’s going on?”
“He needs to go to Paris for a bit. I’m not thinking too long. Maybe a month or so,” Briar sighs, looking off to the side. “But I know he’s so busy with work, it’s super hard.”
“Well, he and Niall just hired a new associate, so I feel like it wouldn’t be too hard. A lot of people take leaves of absences,” Madison smiles softly. “I’d say it’s been about 8 years since Harry took one. Not sure why. I had just started there as a temp.”
Briar has a hunch as to why he took time off. Nonetheless, she doesn’t dwell on it.
“Yeah, a leave of absence. I just don’t think he’ll do it on his own. Which is why I need your help. I’d like to arrange for him to travel there, maybe in two weeks. Does he fly commercial or take the jet?”
“Commercial for long-haul flights. He gets less freaked out over the ocean in the bigger planes,” she laughs. “I can book something using my company card and get reimbursed for it so he doesn’t suspect anything.”
“That sounds good. I say just pick a date, and I’ll make it work. Do you think you can slowly start clearing his calendar? Maybe decline recurring meetings one at a time. I’ll talk to Niall to make sure this is alright.”
The women discuss packing for him in secret, and ways to cover their tracks. As heart wrenching as this whole situation is, a rush of adrenaline hits Briar. She takes a sharp breath when Madison speaks up.
“Are you going to be joining him? I can make sure to get you the seats that lie down next to each other.”
Briar bites her lip as she feels her eyes droop sadly.
“No, this is just something he needs to take care of. I think it’ll bring on some personal growth.”
Madison nods, “Okay, no problem. Can I be honest with you?”
Briar sits up, nodding.
“Harry has been a new person since he met you. It’s like night and day. Before, he was a little scatterbrained. I think you bring a little stability to his life that he was missing.”
Briar’s heart could jump out of her chest. She quietly thanks Madison, scared of crying in the cafe.
“I could feel him slipping back into his old ways these past few weeks, so whatever he needs to go do, I hope it brings him back,” she places her hand lightly on Briar’s shoulder before standing up.
Briar hopes it brings him back, too.
~
A few days later, Briar heads to Harry’s house with Gus in what feels like the first time in forever. She feels like a stranger. They’ve texted here and there, but Briar is purposefully making herself busy and unavailable.
Maureen is out watering her plants along their shared fence when Briar drives up. Gus trots over to sniff her through the fence before promptly lifting his leg, nearly peeing on her. Maureen shrieks, dropping the hose and walking back to her house.
Briar laughs to herself before calling Gus back over. Gus barges into Harry’s house through his garage door like he owns the place. Briar follows him in, only to stop dead in her tracks at the site of his kitchen.
Harry is singing Elton John at the top of his lungs, placing cookies on a cooling rack. His oven is on and the counters are littered with bowls, plates and dry ingredients. She watches as he circles his hips, mixing the batter as he moves along.
“And I think it’s gonna be a long, long ti--,” Gus finally approaches Harry, to which he jumps when he feels his fur swipe his leg. “Birdie! What’re you doing here?”
She smiles, walking over to him to wrap her arms around his core. She slips her hands in the waistband of his sweatpants, making his gasp at how cold her hands are.
“Just miss ya, is all,” she smiles, closing her eyes. “What’s all this for?”
“I listened to a podcast and they mentioned doing something from your childhood that made you happy. So, I decided to make some cookies. Boxed recipe, of course,” he laughs, pointing to the slightly burnt desserts.
“That sounds like fun,” she scrunches her eyebrows, wondering what she’d pick. “I’d do a lemonade stand, I think.”
“Now we’re talking. Want to be my business partner?” Harry places the bowl down before lifting Briar onto the countertop. “I’ve missed you, baby. I’m so sorry I’ve been so in my head lately.”
Briar shrugs, not sure what to say. They kiss passionately for a few minutes, before Gus starts barking. They break the kiss, only to see Gus giving them the side eye near his food bowl.
“I fed you at home, hungry, hungry hippo!”
“Just give him some. He looks skinny,” Harry purses his lips as he walks to the pantry. He scoops a generous amount of food into the bowl, making Briar roll her eyes. The vet would say otherwise.
Her phone buzzes, signaling Madison sent Harry’s Paris itinerary. She quickly clears the notification, taking note of the departure date. Harry leaves in 8 days. Her stomach turns in anguish.
Harry guides Briar to his couch, bringing her to lay her legs across his lap. He’s staring dreamily into her eyes, but she can’t feel more disconnected to him. She knows how bad this situation is hurting him, and she doesn’t want him to move on without addressing these feelings.
Harry starts to dance his hands up her side, a clear pathway to getting in her pants. Her resolve remains strong.
“Let’s just talk, Harry,” she grabs his hand and puts it in his lap. “I feel like we haven’t been doing a lot of that lately.”
Harry nods, defeated, “I know. It’s just a weird situation that I don’t know how to navigate.”
“I agree, but that’s why we have to do it together,” she says, twisting the ring on his pointer finger. “How’s work? What’s been going on?”
“We just hired a new associate, so that should take some things off my plate. My calendar is surprisingly lighter. This might be a shift in the right direction. Or, Niall is silently pushing me out,” he chuckles.
Briar bites her lip. She has an animated face, and she doesn’t want her expression to give her secret away. Harry continues talking, so she assumes she’s in the clear.
Her conversation with Niall went well; he rolled his eyes at the idea of taking on more work, but he understands this is something Harry needs to do. His job is to play dumb at work and make Harry believe he is attending all of the same meetings. Madison even went as far as to make fake calendar invites.
“How’s your mom settling into California?” Harry asks after a beat of silence. Briar has to stop herself from groaning.
Weeks before, she drug her brothers to their childhood home to clear out junk. It was a cathartic experience; she hadn’t been there in years, but it felt like she never left. Her bedroom was the exact same; purple walls with zebra print accents. She found her pile of Littlest Pet Shop pets and Polly Pockets. It was like she was 5 again, sitting on the floor with her Dad, giving names to each pet and telling him their intricate backstories; lots of infidelity and long lost twins.
Even her oldest brother, Welles, and his new fiancee, Imani, came. He started off cold, but warmed up as they reminisced on their early days. Cormac sat quietly, unable to join in since he was just a baby at the time.
“I think she’s alright. The house is beautiful. Have you ever been to Montecito?”
Harry looks down, before nodding, “Yeah, that’s where Camille and I lived for a bit.”
“Oh. I see,” Briar says quietly.
“You should go out and see her. It really is one of the most beautiful places,” Harry says, rubbing her leg.
“Yeah, maybe,” she yawns. The pair chit chat for a bit longer, putting Briar’s mind at ease a little.
“Can you stay for a few days?” Harry asks, staring right into her eyes. “I-I can’t help but feel like I’m fucking everything up.”
This wakes Briar right up.
“H, no. I think I’ve just been trying to keep myself busy since the only thing that needs to happen now is,” Briar trails off. “You need to go to Paris.”
Harry closes his eyes. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I’m just scared.”
Briar sits up, adjusting herself into a kneeled position. She grabs his hand, looking down.
“I know you are,” she inhales. “So, I made arrangements for you to go. You leave in 8 days.”
Briar feels like a ton of bricks land on her. She’s terrified to meet his eyes.
“W-what?”
Harry is stunned, feeling like all the air in his lungs left at once.
“I talked to Madison and Niall. Everything is set. You’re going to stay there for a month.”
He closes his eyes, processing what she’s saying. What about work? What about the two of them?
“I didn’t go as far as contacting Camille, so you’ll have to do that. But, I’m sure she can fit in some visits. Maybe at a park, to start,” Briar rambles. “You’ll probably have a lot of downtime.”
“A-are you not coming with me?” Harry asks, dumbfounded. His hands are trembling, waiting for her answer.
She shifts, not meeting his eyes, “No. Just you.”
Panic bubbles uncomfortably in his chest, “Birdie, please, I,” he trails off. “I can’t do that. No. No.”
“You can, and you’re going to. This is such a big moment for you, but I think you need to do it on your own,” Briar chokes out. Tears started to roll down her rosy cheeks. “You can call me any time. I’m sorry I had to do this so sneakily.”
He pulls her into his chest as he starts to cry. His heart is breaking knowing they’ll be separated for a month.
“Thank you,” he croaks. “You don’t understand how much this means to me. But I’m so gutted you aren’t coming.”
She sniffles, wiping her nose on his shirt. His chest bobbles up and down as the quiet cries take over him. She can’t help but feel like this is the end.
~
Harry sent Camille an email of his itinerary a few days prior to his departure. He profusely apologized for the last minute plans, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s eager, almost. But, maybe Harry is reading too far into her tone.
The family has a few activities throughout the month, but they can easily work around Harry’s time with Oliver. She even invited him to one of his football games.
Briar is sat on Harry’s bed as he looks through his suitcase one last time. He mentally checks off his toiletries, socks and underwear, not really paying any mind to his outfits.
He’s still in disbelief he’ll be on a leave of absence from work. It took a lot of convincing from Niall, but finally Harry gave in as Niall swooped him into a big hug. Harry made a list of books in his phone that he’d like to read, and museums he’d like to visit, since he hadn’t been to Paris in years. Hell, he’s barely had any free time at all.
“Are you gonna stay here while I’m gone?”
Briar’s head snaps up to look at Harry. She bites her lip, unsure how to answer.
“I think I’ll just stay at my apartment, if that’s okay,” she says quietly. Suddenly picking at her cuticles is more interesting than looking at Harry.
Harry’s heart sinks, but he understands. She didn’t ask to be part of this.
“I just don’t want to feel like the girl you have waiting for you at home.”
Harry shudders, but nods, “I get it. I want you to be comfortable. I drug you into this.”
“No, I offered to help. So I am. It’ll be okay. I just have to keep myself busy.”
Harry moves the suitcase from the bench at the foot of the bed to the floor. He looks at his folded clothes sadly and swallows thickly. He crawls to meet her on the bed, pulling her into the small spoon position. Harry starts to kiss the back of her neck, sucking a little longer as he moves under her jaw.
“Are you gonna send me lots of nudies?”
Briar inhales deeply, not missing a beat before replying, “No, you can watch porn.”
Harry gasps, “Briar Barlowe, I do NOT watch porn!”
“Mhm, sure,” she smiles to herself, still facing the other direction. “What do you even watch anyway?”
Harry thinks for a minute, wanting to have this conversation delicately, “I just try to support women in their pursuit to find lucrative job opportunities. Also known as fucking the housekeeper.”
“You are so full of shit,” she laughs.
“I like watching people fuck in the woods. And maybe almost get caught.”
Briar’s eyes scrunch closed as she giggles. That checks out, based on the number of times they’ve hooked up on the 14th hole.
“What do YOU watch, missy?”
Briar smiles, “hmmm. A lot of it we already do. But my new favorite is ‘free use’”
Harry’s stomach clenches, “That’s hot as fuck baby. You want me to just take you whenever I want? Wanna wear nothing but one of my shirts around the house?”
He continues kissing her neck as she moans out, “Yeah, daddy.”
“Wanna go downstairs and pretend to read your book? And I’ll be right there?”
Her heart races with excitement. This is just the distraction she needs. She peels herself away from him, but not before grabbing his crotch.
“Oi! Easy, Birdie.”
She scurries off to Harry’s sofa, peeling her panties and bra off as she goes. It’ll be like a scavenger hunt. She grabs a book from the shelf and positions herself on her stomach, knees bent and ankles crossed behind her in the air. The exposure feels cool against her wet cunt.
She flips to a random page, a smutty one of course. The character is pinned down, her partner kissing down her body with an ice cube in his mouth. She shivers, imagining Harry’s tongue swirling around her nipple with ice between his teeth.
She hears Harry coming down the steps. The trick to free use porn is to not say a word at first. Briar continues reading until she feels Harry come up behind her, his large hand grabbing her butt cheek and massaging it. She flips the pages, furrowing her brows and using her pointer finger to keep her spot exaggeratedly.
Harry pulls his cock out from his gym shorts and briefs before lining himself up and pressing into her. He keeps his thrusts short and shallow, not wanting to give her too much of a reaction.
Tiny gasps escape her throat, but she tries to keep her composure. For added fun, Briar starts to read her book out loud. Harry’s stomach clenches at the detail, wanting to do everything to his girl.
“‘Wrap your legs around me and tell me how much you like it, Nate says’,” Briar sighs out, slowly flipping the page. Harry has to bite his knuckle as not to cry out.
“I love reading, I wish my daddy read my naughty books with me,” Briar sighs, holding back a moan. “Oh my gosh, daddy? Is that you?”
She turns her head, a devious glint in her eyes.
“Ughn, keep reading your book, baby. Wanna hear your words.”
“‘Can you be a good girl and be quiet?’ Nate says, and I can finally start to feel his fingers under my skirt,” Briar reads out loud, her pussy clenching Harry’s cock deliciously.
Harry locks his jaw, smacking the book out of her hands. She gasps as he flips her over and starts to pound into her. He presses his hand into her bare chest for leverage. She throws her head back, a strangled cry falling from her lips.
“Love fucking you all the time, baby. Don’t know how I’m gonna live without this fucking pussy for a month,” Harry grits out.
In all their fun, it distracted Briar from the magnitude of their situation. Her mood shifts, and it’s like her cunt dried up immediately. Her heart is pumping from anxiety and not excitement. She cries out, her muted orgasm washing over her. She might as well have faked it.  
“Fffuck yes, baby. Gonna come now,” Harry grasps her cheeks with one hand, making her lips puff out like a fish. “Can you say, ‘I love you, Daddy’?”
“I wov you daddy,” she blubbers out, his hand making it difficult to enunciate.
Harry buries into her before dropping his body weight onto her and sticking his face in her neck as he pours into her, “Love you so much.”
She stares at the ceiling over his shoulder. Love fucking hurts sometimes.
~
On the day of Harry’s flight, he and Briar spend the whole day together. They got breakfast and took Gus for a walk around the public garden. Their pinkies are locked as they stroll past the once flowery oasis, spying piles of leaves on the ground.
“What’re you thinking about right now?” Briar asks.
“I’m not as nervous as I thought I’d be. I think I’m thinking of logistics. Like, if it goes well, what do we do? Do I fly to France a few times a year? I don’t think she’d let him come stay with me right away. Someone would have to fly back and forth with him,” Harry trails off, his pinkie cutting off the circulation of Briar’s.
“Well, there’s time to figure that out. It doesn’t have to be determined over night,” Briar says, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her heart has felt heavy all day. She tries not to let her feelings show on her face, because she knows Harry would back out. He has to do this.
“And I want to make sure you know where you fit in all of this. I know you haven’t said it, but I know your brain pretty well at this point,” Harry says, placing his thumb on her cheek as he turns to face her. “We’re partners. A team. I know you’re thinking you’re a burden. And you’re not; I value your input so much. Just need you to be patient with me.”
She nods silently, placing her head on his chest. Gus starts to pull on his leash toward a goose, so it stops her from crying.
“Augustus Theodore Barlowe-Styles!” Harry yells.
Briar looks at him wildly, “Um, when did that happen?”
Harry shrugs, “If you need me to sign a fake paper, I will. But I am his dad.”
Briar bites her lip, looking the other direction so Harry can’t see the pain on her face.
They continue on, returning to the car about an hour later. Harry has a parking ticket, to which he grumbles to himself. Briar laughs, snapping a photo of him holding the bright orange paper.
They return home to put Gus away and wait for the driver. Harry arranged for a driver to pick them up so they can say their goodbyes the whole drive. When the black Escalade pulls into the driveway, silent tears start to blur her vision. The man grabs Harry’s luggage and opens the door for Briar to get in.
They sit so close together, not even a sheet of paper can fit between them. He grasps her hand for dear life, not willing to let go first. The drive to the airport is excruciating, so Harry just peppers kisses in Briar’s hair, taking in long whiffs of her scent.
“I can’t thank you enough, Birdie,” Harry starts. “A month will go by in no time.”
Briar breathes in deeply, a lump forming in her throat, “Just a month.”
“Just a month.”
They sit in silence, basking in the physical feeling of one another. Harry leans down to kiss her as they pull into the terminal. It deepens, Harry gently swiping his tongue through her lips. The car comes to a stop, so Briar breaks apart. Harry feels a pang in his heart.
Briar starts to cry, a tiny sniffle escaping her. She can’t bring herself to look at him.
“I don’t want to go yet, but I have to, baby.”
She nods, squeezing her eyes shut. Her grip on his t-shirt is so tight, her hands are shaking.
“I love you, Birdie, so much. Just bear with me, please. Whatever you’re feeling…Call me. Text me. We’re in this together.”
Harry grips her thigh before opening the car door. She shuffles out after him, the bright lights of the terminal blinding her. The driver is taking Harry’s luggage from the trunk, so the two of them stand at the hood of the car in a tight embrace.
Briar’s tears are dampening Harry’s favorite Kendrick Lamar ‘DAMN.’ hoodie. He looks so soft and comfy. His hair is freshly washed, the smell of the citrus shampoo taking over their embrace.
The AirFrance attendants take his luggage away, so he only has to worry about his trusty suede duffel bag. He places one last long kiss on Briar’s forehead and pulls away. Their hands are interlocked, but don’t separate until the last second.
Harry grabs his duffel bag before sadly following the attendant inside. Briar stands still, watching him through the glass windows until he’s at the escalator. Harry presses a kiss to the pads of his three fingers before turning his hand to face her. She reaches up, pretending to grab the stray kiss, tears still falling rapidly.
“Whenever you’re ready miss,” the driver’s soft voice breaks her train of thought. She looks over at him in acknowledgement.
When she looks back to the escalator, he’s gone. Briar sobbed the whole ride home.
~
“I can’t be a step-mom, Caroline. I’m fucking 24 years old!” Briar grasps at her hair as she’s sat at brunch. She didn’t sleep for a single minute after dropping Harry off. She paced her apartment, ready to send the most Earth-shattering text to Harry.
He couldn’t have been sweeter to her. He paid for in-flight wifi so he could text her throughout. He watched movies he thought she’d like, and rated his meals. He was a fan of the yogurt parfait but not the chicken milanese. He let her know there was a woman with a young baby sat next to him, so he offered to hold the baby while she used the restroom. Briar’s heart hurt at the last part.
“Well, maybe you don’t have to be all that involved, anyway. The kid lives in France, for Christ’s sake. You could be like Luke and Lorelai in Gilmore Girls.”
Briar stares at her, bewildered, “They broke up because of the secret kid, Caro.”
“You’re right! But they found each other in the end.”
She rolls her eyes at her friend’s inability to read the room. She’s too absorbed in her new bartender boyfriend to care about anyone else now.
Briar hasn’t heard from Harry in a few hours, but she assumes it’s because of the time difference. The waiter appears, asking if the girls would like more mimosas.
“Keep them coming, please,” Caroline smiles. He nods before disappearing into the back. She looks back at Briar. “Can’t you just hold on for two weeks? That way, he’ll have a better idea of how he can manage it all, and then you can decide.”
She’s right. Briar hasn’t even given it a fighting chance; she’s just always trusted her gut and it’s always worked out. The complexity of the situation scares her.
“You’re right. I don’t even know if they’ve met yet. I’ll relax a little, I guess. How’s Max?”
Caroline nods, giving Briar a side hug, “We’re good. Taking it slow. He got out of a long relationship not long ago, too. I’m really happy, Bri.”
Briar smiles, “I’m so glad. You deserve it. I’ll try to cross paths with him a little more at Wynnewood. Does this mean you’re moving back here any time soon?”
Caroline laughs, breaking the yolk on her eggs Benedict, “Probably. I’m already sick of my parents’ house. It’s weird not knowing anyone in your town as an adult.”
Briar looks down at her phone when she feels it start to vibrate.
🦊: Are you busy?
She puts her phone in her purse so she can focus on her friend. She’ll call him later.
“I get that. Have you met anyone at the gym or anything? Maybe you can start teaching spin again,” Briar suggests. Caroline juts her lip out.
“Maybe. It’s a commitment, though.”
“Might be good for you. Think about it.”
The girls wrap up, and part ways. If there’s one thing the two of them go hard or go home for, it’s brunch. Briar decides to grab an Uber since she had a few mimosas.
The driver arrives, but he furrows his brow when she gets in.
“For Harry?”
Fuck. She’s using his account, not hers. She nods, not really wanting to disclose that it’s her boyfriend’s account. Her phone vibrates again.
🦊: Where are you going? Call me if you’re heading home.
“Fuck,” she curses under her breath. Leaning her head against the window, she lets the glass cool her now warm forehead. Harry gets pinged when his credit card is charged.
She dials his contact, about to give up until he answers on the third ring.
“Hi, Birdie. What’re you up to?”
She can’t quite read his tone.
“Hi. Not much, just got done grabbing brunch with Caroline,” she looks out the window. “H-how’s it going over there?”
“Everything here is good. I landed in the morning, obviously, checked into my hotel, and then I met up with Camille and Oliver at a park close by. It was surreal, honestly,” Harry says, putting his free hand on top of his head. “It went really well. Better than I could’ve imagined.”
Briar smiles, finally feeling genuine about this whole situation. She could cry knowing that little boy will finally get to know his father. And she knows he’ll never skip out on him from this point on.
“I’m so glad, H. Really. I bet you’ll have so much fun the rest of the time you’re there. Will you be able to have him by yourself, do you think? Or does Camille want to be there for the first couple visits?”
“I think I will, eventually, yeah. She just wants to make sure he’s comfortable, y’know? But, from what I can tell, he’s already perfectly comfortable.”
“That’s great. Maybe there’s an activity you can do together,” Briar says, but pauses. “Honestly I’m not sure how French children spend their time. Eating cheese?”
Harry laughs, pacing his hotel room. He hasn’t been this anxious with Briar on the phone since their first call.
“From what I can tell, it’s a lot of play dates. The thing is, kids are allowed to just ‘be’ here. I feel like American kids have to be occupied at all times. It was cool to see his imagination play out. Even though we only had a football with us. He got really creative with it.”
“Anyway, I miss ya, Birdie. How’s Caroline? Is she still with Max?”
“Miss you too, so much. Gus does too. I don’t take him for runs like you do. And Caro is good. Still with Max,” she says as she fumbles out of the Uber.
“Thank you!” She says to the driver.
“You home already?”
“Yeah, walking up to the door. Sorry I accidentally used your account,” Briar says sheepishly.
“Don’t apologize, my love. Charge whatever you need to on my card.”
“Thanks. I’m gonna take Gus for a walk. I love you. I’m glad you had a good day. Remember to send pictures,” she smiles leaning on her door frame.
“Love you, Birdie. Have a good night.”
“Bye. Sleep well,” she says quietly.
She starts to cry again, maybe from the alcohol. She’s happy for him. Really. But she can’t help but feel this gnawing in her soul.
~
“Olivier! Viens ici s'il te plait,” Camille calls out.
Harry is rusty at French, not needing to use it in years. Nonetheless, his boy drops the toy in his hand and enters the kitchen.
For their visit today, they’re at Camille and Theo’s countryside home. Theo took their daughter for a walk to give them space. Harry didn’t request for Theo to make himself scarce, but he appreciates the gesture.
“Harry va t'emmener chercher une crêpe. Est-ce que ça sonne bien?”
The little boy nods. Harry is translating in his head. He only recognizes is his name and une crêpe.
Even though Camille is hesitant, the crêperie is around the corner in the small town. They’d be gone for half an hour max.
“Does that sound good, mate? What flavor are you going to get?”
Oliver looks puzzled, and stares at his mom. She nods her head, “Anglais, Olivier.”
“Oweo,” he says quietly. Harry learned Oliver has a small speech impediment they’re working through. He’s made great strides throughout the school year.
“I might get that, too. Ready to go?”
The boy nods, and they both stand to head to the front door. Camille waves them off from the window.
Harry feels like a deer in headlights. Should he hold his hand?
Oliver starts to walk on the gravel road, to which Harry switches positions with him so he’s in harms way if a car were to swerve at them.
Alright, he thinks. That was fatherly.
Oliver reaches his small hand to grab Harry’s, and he feels his heart lurch in his chest. It’s so small, Oliver holds onto his pinky. He smiles, thinking of Briar.
They walk a bit longer, Harry listening to Oliver ramble on about 100 topics. He smiles and nods largely, encouraging him to keep talking. The crêperie comes into view, so they enter the shop to meet a cheery older woman.
“Olivier! Bonjour mon coeur!”
Oliver hides behind Harry’s leg and peeps out, "Bonjour mademoiselle Celine.”
“Good morning. We’d love to have two Oreo crêpes, please. I’ll also take a cappuccino.”
“Of course, sir. Tout pour mon client préféré,” she giggles, looking at the boy. Judging by their mischievous smiles, he can tell Oliver is a regular here.
“Merci.”
They sit at a small table outside on the packed patio. Oliver sits on Harry’s lap, since there is only one chair. Oliver points out birds and starts to recite the alphabet backwards for Harry.
“Parles-tu français?” the woman next to them asks.
“Not much, honestly,” Harry laughs.
“Is this your son?”
“Oh, he’s n—,” Harry stops himself. “Yes. Yes, this is my son, Oliver.”
His heart is beating out of his chest. He’s so used to not claiming his niece when he takes her out.
“Beautiful. You look like twins,” she smiles before going back to reading her book.
“Merci,” Harry smiles.
The waiter brings their crepes and Harry’s drink. He pulls his phone out for a quick selfie of the two of them, Oreo crumbs messy around their mouths. He sends it to Briar, knowing it’s the middle of the night.
“Who is that girwl?” Oliver asks, spying Harry’s screen saver. His little accent makes Harry smile.
“That’s my girlfriend, Briar. Maybe one day you’ll get to meet her. Do you want to see her silly puppy, Gus?”
“Yeah!”
Harry shows Oliver tons of videos he’s taken of Gus and photos of himself and Briar. They enjoy their time looking at pictures and singing some of the songs he’s learned at school. The two walk home together, hand in hand.
Harry doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
~
It’s noon before Briar finally wakes up on her day off. Gus is well past his puppy years, so he’ll sleep as long as she’ll let him. She leashes him up, opting to not bring her phone and take in the sunshine.
She misses being able to let him out back at Harry’s, but she deals with it. They walk and Gus sniffs around for about an hour before they make their way home. She pulls her phone on the charger to find a few texts from Harry.
🦊: Awake yet, lazy bones?
🦊:  Went for crêpes. Just the two of us.
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🦊: I already feel so comfortable hanging with him, Bird. I wish you were here 🖤
There are several hours in between texts, so she doesn’t rush to reply.
🐥: Two cute guys! I’m so happy for you. Wish I was there too.
She lies.
Gus lays down, so Briar immediately heads outside with her headphones. She hasn’t taken a run in weeks, but she wants her heart to hammer in her chest from exercise, not anxiety. She’s never told Harry she runs, in fear of him dragging her for long distances. She prefers to run to a coffee shop and then walk back.
Main street comes into view once she finds a good rhythm. She’s listening to Clouds by One Direction, so her pace is quick. She passes Lululemon moms with their babies in strollers and designer dogs in tow, giving tight lip smiles.
Her favorite cafe is on her right, so she stops to stretch and even out her breathing before going in. The guy at the counter welcomes her asking what she’d like to drink.
“Can I have an iced green tea with just a pump of sweetener and a lemon?”
“Sure, coming right up,” he winks.
She sits at the counter to get off her feet.
“This might be weird, but I think you’re in one of my business classes.”
Briar cocks her head to look at him. They all have to have profile photos since it’s online. She finally recognizes him. Spencer.
“Oh, yes! Spencer, right? I’m Briar,” she reaches out to shake his hand gently.
“Yep, good memory. Are you almost done with your paper?”
Briar smiles, “Nope, haven’t even started outlining.”
“Okay, good. At least we’re on the same wavelength.”
He hands her the drink and waves her off when she tries to give him her card, “No worries, it’s on me. Let me know if you want to meet up and study some time.”
He walks swiftly into the back. He wrote his number on the cardboard sleeve surrounding the drink. Nervousness bubbles in her stomach.
🦊: Heading back to the hotel. Let me know if you’re free.
She reads Harry’s text. Re-reads it. Re-reads it again. Then she shoves her phone in her sports bra before sprinting out of the cafe.
Her music resumes at full volume, this time, Kiss You comes on. She smiles trying not to sing out loud for everyone to hear.
She makes it home in record time, running straight to the bathroom to shower. She continues playing her music, only to be interrupted by a call. She squints from across the bathroom to see the familiar fox emoji on the screen. She waits for it to go to voicemail before belting out the lyrics to Steal My Girl. Briar isn’t sure why she’s avoiding him. It’s only been 3 days. They have a long time to go.
She finishes her shower, taking the time to moisturize and do her skincare routine. Once she’s in her robe, she settles in her bed to call Harry back.
“‘Lo?”
“Hi,” She says quietly. “Did I just wake you up?”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. I think I fell asleep at 4pm,” he chuckles. “How is your day?”
“Good, I slept in and then went for a run, actually.”
“A run? How come you’ve never gone on one with me?” Harry is sort of offended.
Briar laughs, a genuine one, “‘Cause I was scared you’d make me run for miles. I like to run and get coffee or tea and then walk back.”
Harry hums, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. He’s not sure what else to say to her.
“Can we FaceTime? Wanna see your pretty face,” Harry says.
“Mhm,” Briar switches to FaceTime in one swift motion.
“Hi, pretty,” Harry says, his eyes lighting up.
“Hi, handsome. Looks like you already need a haircut,” she laughs.
“I know, I totally spaced getting one before I left. Although, I didn’t know I was leaving.”
Briar is quiet before asking, “How was your day with Oliver? That’s great you got some time alone with him.”
Harry beams as he tells her all the things Oliver has shown and talked to him about. He told her how natural everything feels, even so soon after officially meeting him.
“So, did Camille explain to him who you are?” Briar asks delicately.
“Yeah, but he hasn’t called me Dad or anything, yet. Papa, in French, I guess. She gave him all of my cards every year. She’s shown him pictures,” Harry yawns. “But I don’t think she ever told him the history, of course. Always said ‘maybe one day. Ultimately, Theo is raising him. That’s a bond I won’t try to interfere with. I trust him.”
“That’s good. I know I keep saying it, but I’m so happy for you,” Briar smiles softly.
“Thanks, Bird. You look awfully comfy,” Harry smirks. “Whatcha got under that robe, lovie?”
“C’mon, not now, H,” Briar blows him off.
A confused look flashes over his face, but it quickly fades.
“What? Why not?”
“I just — You’re there to see your son. I just feel weird calling and doing all this,” Briar admits.
“But it’s okay to call me while I’m on a work trip and get me riled up?” His head cocks to the side, eyebrows furrowed.
“T-that’s different.”
“How?” His nostrils flare out. “It’s not like I have Oliver here with me.”
“I don’t know, it just is. Don’t be like this, please,” she pleads.
“Okay…?” he draws out. Suddenly, her flaky behavior is not in his head. “Um, I guess I’ll let you go then. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They both hang up with newly formed pits in their stomachs.
~
Harry woke up bright and early on day 11, getting ready to watch Oliver’s football game. They spent the last few days apart so he could visit his grandparents in the south of France.
Harry spent each day the same way; eating at a cafe, reading the newspaper, taking his French Duolingo lesson, and then hitting a museum or a park before ordering room service. Sometimes a call with Briar fits in there.
Harry smiles at the thought of his mum and sister meeting him. Gemma’s daughter, Hattie, is only a year older than Oliver. He can picture them running around in the backyard on a summer day, jumping in and out of the pool, ice lollies staining their faces.
He’s getting ahead of himself. He visibly shakes his head back and forth to focus.
Grabbing it off the side table, he looks at his phone. It’s 1AM at home, so he wonders if Briar is still awake.
🦊: Hi, Birdie. Still awake?
Briar is 5 episodes deep into Jersey Shore when her phone vibrates. Gus stirs, wondering why she’s disturbing him. Doing the math in her head, she realizes it’s 7AM in Paris.
🐥: Morning 🤍 I’m just watching TV
He doesn’t bother replying, and opts to call.
“Hi,” she says quietly, grabbing the remote to pause the TV. The tension over the last few days have been rough, and Briar knows it’s her fault. Her cold feet about going all in with Harry has consumed her. She’s been dodging his calls, calling back hours after he tries to initiate contact.
“What’re you doing up so late, baby girl?”
His gruff morning voice gives her chills. She misses his soft speaking voice gently rousing her from sleep in the mornings.
“Watching classic American television,” she laughs softly. “What’re you doing up so early?”
“I was invited to watch Oliver’s football games today. Camille’s parents will be there too, so it’ll be nice to see them.”
Briar grimaces to herself. Will it? Those people left him high and dry as much as Camille did.
“That’s nice. Were you close with them?”
“Yeah, her dad and I bonded over vintage cars and watches. And her mum is very sweet.”
Briar hums. After a while, Harry speaks up.
“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right, Birdie?”
She freezes. He’s onto her.
“Yes,” she starts off slow and questioning. “Why do you say that?”
“Not sure. It might be me. Just feeling like we’re a bit off.”
“I’m not a long distance person. You know that,” she lies. Again.
“I know that. This isn’t a long distance relationship, though,” Harry replies.
Briar opts for silence. Again.
“I need words, baby. This is never going to work if you’re not honest with me.”
She closes her eyes, “I just don’t think it’s going to work at all, Harry.”
There it is. The breaking point. The atomic bomb. The earthquake that destroys 100 cities.
Harry covers his eyes with his hand. He’s so shaky he can barely stand. A highlight reel of their time together flashes through his mind. The high highs and their few and far between lows. He’s never in his life felt so tied to another human being before. Not even his son, whom he’s just getting to know.
“You don’t mean that,” Harry presses. His heart is racing so fast it’s all he can hear.
“I don’t fucking know, Harry,” a cry explodes out of her chest. “This feels like too much, too soon.”
Harry clenches his teeth and balls his fists, “No. No, Briar. This isn’t how this is going to go.”
“Why do you get to dictate everything? This is a big fucking deal, Harry. I can’t see where I fit into this, so I’m taking myself out of it.”
“No! Baby, please. Please just wait until I’m back. There’s gonna be a plan, and I’m sorry I don’t have that for you right now. I’m so fucking sorry. Don’t do this to me. Please,” his voice breaks, exaggerated wheezing leaving his chest.
Briar holds the phone away from her ear, unable to listen to the begging. She’d cave immediately.
“I’ll fly you out. Right fucking now. Drive to the hangar and get on the fucking plane,” he seethes. 
She shakes her head, even though he can’t see her. 
“Get on the fucking plane, Briar,” the anguish in his voice shatters her heart into a million pieces. 
“I-I’m sorry,” Briar clicks off hastily. She feels like the most heartless person in the world. Violent sobs take over as she leans down to rub her face in Gus’s fur.
“Fuck, fuck, ffuck, fuck, fuck!” Harry yells. He starts to punch into the pillow on the bed, slamming his fist over and over again.
With shaky hands, he texts Camille that something came up and he’ll see them tomorrow instead. Harry crumples to the floor, feeling like he could vomit. His phone buzzes, hoping--praying-- it’s Briar. 
Harry, that’s not how this is going to work. You’re either in, or you’re out.
C
“Fuck!”
_________________________________________________
Alexa, play ‘I Know the End’ by Phoebe Bridgers. IM SORRY IM SOFIFJRIJFJRG SEND ME A MESSAGE OR A BOTTLE OF TEQUILA
@daphnesutton @pandeebearstyles @anxiouswaterss @gem1712 @stylesfever @awesomenavy @crazygirlinthisworld @butdaddyilovehim-hs @luxiorchive @alchemxx @narry-heart​
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fritz-federleicht · 10 months
Note
Kurt Cobain with a soulmate au with the writing on the arm thing? like he would write random lyrics on his arm not thinking about it and the reader would be confused because none of it makes sense but then it clicks like oh this guy is a musician and why does it sound like nirvana music? or maybe the reader is an artist and would draw flowers or something on their arm and Kurt would think it’s super cute? I know I'm rambling but I had this idea and I wasn’t sure how to write it XD
Dumb/ Kurt Cobain x reader
Notes: Thank you for the idea
Words: 956
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You're in a small record store that is also a cafe. You stand in front of a huge shelf and browse through it, looking for new records. Soft music plays in the background to which you hum.
The bell above the door rings as it opens. You look up briefly. A lanky man with blond hair enters the store and sits down at one of the three tables in the corner. He orders a coffee from Max, the store owner and barista.
You concentrate again on the shelf in front of you.
A short time later, you stand at the counter. "Hey Max, can I have a latte? You know where to find me?"
"Hi Y/N, of course." Already he turns around and does his job.
You walk over to the tables. No one is sitting there except the blond man. He stares at his exposed arm. When he notices that someone is approaching him, he lifts his gaze.
His face is somehow familiar. You have probably seen him here before.
You sit down at the table next to him, put the records you found in front of you and look at the covers.
"Here Y/N, your latte."
"Thanks Max." You grin at him. He goes back behind the counter.
You immediately take a sip. You can't help but look to the blond.
He is writing intently on his arm. Since you sit relatively close to him you can read what he writes.
'Skin the sun, fall asleep
Wish away, the soul is cheap'
You frown. What does that mean? You look into his eyes, into those ocean blue eyes. Then you remember who he is. Kurt Cobain, the lead singer of Nirvana!
You don't want to disturb him, he deserves some peace. But you're also interested in what the lyrics mean.
"Hey sorry to bother you. I saw you writing something on your arm. What does it mean?"
"Oh, that." He points to his arm. "I don't know. It just popped into my head." He looked at you, thinking. "Do we know each other?"
You laugh. "I thought so too but no. I'm just in the store more often. We've probably seen each other here but never talked."
"Now that you mention it. You're always standing in front of all those records aren't you?"
"Yes, always looking for bargains. Mind if I join you? Only if you want to, of course." You ask shyly.
"Yeah sure. Have a seat." You settle down across from him.
"So what are you going to do with the text?" You point to his arm.
"You know I'm a singer. Do you know Nirvana?" He looks at you questioningly.
You grin. "Do I know Nirvana? Absolutely! I love them." You say. Who doesn't know Nirvana? Then you go on. "I know who you are, too. I just didn't want to be rude earlier and bother you with any questions about the band. You probably hear them way too much."
He takes a sip of his coffee and leans back in his chair, smiling. "Well, tell me your name first."
"Y/N."
Kurt straightens back up and extends his lanky hand to you. "Nice to meet you Y/N."
You take his hand. "Nice to meet you too Kurt."
"So, Y/N, I'm writing a new song." He stares thoughtfully at his arm. "But maybe I'll scrap this lyrics."
"Why? They're good. I don't understand anything, but they're really good."
He laughs. "Let's see." His blue eyes look back into yours. "You know I love writing my songs here."
"Isn't it a little risky? I mean it's a record store. Shouldn't there be Nirvana fans hanging out here all the time?"
"On the contrary. The store is so unknown that almost no one ever enters. That's why it's so quiet here." He brushes a strand of hair out of his face.
You look at him challengingly. "What if I tell everyone you've been hanging around?"
He laughs, "I don't think you would."
"Why?"
"Fans would come here looking for me. They'll see I'm not here and buy all your records instead."
You clutch your chest in mock concern. "You're right. I'd better not do that then."
"That's what I thought. Besides, I wouldn't set foot in this store, and we'd never see each other again." He waits for your reaction.
You look at him with your mouth open. "What?"
He repeats himself. "We would never see each other again."
You hold your cup. "I get that... But you want to see me again?"
He smiles. "I don't know. I like you."
You stare at him.
"Okay Y/N. I've got to go now. Give me your hand."
You obey and hold your hand in front of him.
He starts writing numbers on it. "Call me. Then we can have a date."
Kurt finishes his coffee and puts the empty cup on the table.
"I'll hear from you?"
You nod. "I'll call you."
You say goodbye to each other. Kurt joins Max at the counter and pays. He then leaves the record store. The bell rings.
You take a big sip from your cup. Kurt Cobain just gave you his number. The famous Kurt Cobain!
You call him the same day. You hit it off right away. Quickly you get together and are the new dream couple among celebrities. Nirvana fans love you, they see how happy you make Kurt.
He left the lyrics he had written on his arm in the song Dumb and didn't take it out. The song means a lot to you, because it reminds you of your first meeting in the record store.
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quietlyimplode · 4 months
Text
Clintasha Advent (3)
Prompt: Maybe like a mixture of making own holiday traditions and no where to go, with Clint/Nat or Maria/Nat (your choice !!).
For/Prompter: @emmeywemmy (sorry couldn’t decide on which pairing so it became all of them.. <3)
Warnings: childhood stories but nothing graphic
Word count: 770
A/N: I may not continue posting daily, but will do as many as I can <3
——
“Never have I ever,” Maria starts, bouncing the ball over to Clint.
“No,” he vetos, “with the two of you playing, I’ll lose, get drunk and then who knows what you’ll go.”
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Natasha supplies, Clint bouncing the ball over to her.
“Boring,” Maria tells her.
“Hangman?”
The ball moves from Maria to Clint again, as Clint and Natasha share a look.
“No hangman, no tic tac toe,” he says, saying what Natasha is thinking.
“I’m out of ideas,” he groans, throwing the ball.
“Stories?” Natasha asks, bouncing the ball across.
“I don’t know how to play that,” Maria tells her, even though it’s met with a laugh from the red head.
Clint passes the ball.
“No,” Natasha says, “like we just tell some stories.”
Maria sits up intrigued.
Natasha never wants to tell stories about herself.
“Like two truths and a lie?” Clint clarifies.
Natasha shrugs.
“Sure we can play like that.”
The church bell rings, and Clint stops talking, wishing they weren’t hiding out in the middle of a church on one of its busiest days of the year.
The ball moves from Natasha to Maria and they wait for it to finish it’s song.
“Okay, two truths an a lie, do you want to go first?”
Natasha throws the ball back at him; hard, reversing the chain.
“Ow-hey, what? You came up with the game,” he defends.
“You go first,” she says with a huff.
“Okay fine,” he twirls the ball in his hand.
“I can draw, I have a middle name, I’m allergic to legumes,” he says, throwing the ball to Maria.
“Legumes?”
“You can’t draw?”
The refutes come together and he shrugs.
“Chose one.”
Maria and Natasha look at each other, unspoken in their communication.
“Drawing,” they say simultaneously.
Clint shakes his head.
“Legumes.”
Natasha frowns.
The ball back to Maria gives her the next turn.
“I can’t feel a portion of my leg, my mother named me after her, I visit a cemetery every Christmas.”
Clint and Natasha stare.
The game feeling oddly personal now.
“Sorry,” Maria apologises, feeling like she’s stepped over a line.
“No,” Clint refutes.
“Your mother?” Natasha tries, to which Clint nods in agreement.
Maria nods.
“Yeah, too easy.”
“Who do you visit?” Natasha asks.
It’s usually Clint whose the one to ask personal questions, but the untold story draws Natasha in.
“My brother,” Maria sighs, “he was a force. The one who’d make family gatherings worth it. KIA. I’ll visit when we get home. He won’t mind a couple of days being late,” she finishes.
The matter of family and siblings sends both Natasha and Clint quiet.
“I learnt English in Ohio, I’m immune to a black widow bite, I once licked a frog to seduce a mark.”
The last one throws Clint hard.
“Just when I think I know all the things about you,” he laughs.
Natasha is far too quick.
“Barton, you’ll never know everything about me,” she blinks slowly.
“Stop flirting,” Maria laughs, catching the ball Matasha throws.
Clint likes his tongue out.
“Clearly, it’s the black widow bite,” Maria guesses.
Natasha shakes her head.
“Nope, they named us after black widows, it was one of the things they made us immune to,” she nods.
“The frog then?” Clint guesses.
“Nope,” Natasha shakes her her.
“Ohio?” they both guess, simultaneously.
Natasha nods.
“I learnt on Russia, on American cartoons.”
Pieces fall into place for Clint.
“Oh that’s why you don’t like Disney Classics.”
Natasha nods.
Clint feels sadness roll over him that his favourite classics are tainted, and likely he’ll never get to share them with his best friend.
The ball passes to Maria.
“My go again?”
Clint nods.
“We should just make a run for it,” she tells the other two.
“You’re turn,” Natasha says insistently, clearly having fun.
“It’s the 23rd of December, how about, next year we do more?” She avoids.
She’s lucky really, the mark enters the church and Maria turns into the militaristic personality that Natasha doesn’t love.
The parabolic mic is directioned to the meeting and Natasha watches the recording commitment.
Clint already in position to shoot, his finger on the trigger as they all listen to the rhetoric and hate speech.
Maria’s voice is low.
“Next year,” she whispers.
“We’ll play again next year.”
1/ Clint/Nat/Laura + traditions
2/ clintasha + temporary blindness
36 notes · View notes
novasintheroom · 20 days
Text
102. Hands
♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader
♡ Word count - 1k
♡ Warnings - none
Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3
Part 1 ---- Part 2 ---- Part 3 (you are here!) ---- Part 4
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Don and Mac mutter to themselves across the fire. Their eyes are glazed with booze, gold and murky in the light. They’ll be out soon.
Good. You’ve had about enough of them today. Some bodyguards you are, getting drunk on the job. You shuffle your papers in your bag, carefully tucking the most vital into a hidden pocket of your overalls while they aren’t looking. They’ve been eyeing your stuff more and more each day. You suspect they’d either been hired by a rival or got it into their thick heads to make off with your findings for themselves. They’ll probably try to take the cartography drawings – and your equipment – soon. Time to switch gears and figure out a way of escape. You sigh and palm at your eyes.
It’s the way these things go. Hard to find good help these days.
Well, almost.
You look off and see the dark, purpled coat of your third bodyguard in the near distance. Vash had placed himself near the cliff’s edge, sitting and staring into nothing for the past half hour or so – messing with that pretty blue hand of his. You can vaguely hear the clinking of metal on metal, and you stand and move before you can talk yourself out of it.
The dark rocks crunch under your boots. You pick your way over the landscape. Vash doesn’t seem to notice you, but that doesn’t mean anything. He has a way of knowing things.
“Aren’t you cold?” You say in greeting. Vash’s shoulders bunch and he turns with surprise. You suspect it’s a show; he must have heard you coming long before now. Still, you stand beside him and wave. “Sorry, I should have been louder.”
He sighs and lets out a chuckle. “No, I was in my own world. Glad you pulled me out of it.” He blinks and says, “And no, I’m not too cold. Got the coat, remember?” He pulls at the red thing as a show.
“Hm, hard to forget it.” You smile when he bashfully laughs and rubs his neck. He’s cute.
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
You feel bolder than usual tonight. Maybe it’s the knowing you’ll have to leave soon that lets you sit beside him instead of shying away. Vash watches you curiously. You give him a nervous smile and ask, “What are you working on? I can hear it from the fire.”
His own smile comes easy. He holds out his tech arm, grabbing at the wrist with his flesh one and rotating it. “Just calibrating the arm. It was a little out of sync earlier in that gun fight.” He sees the way your eyes shine at the old tech. Throwing caution away, he asks quietly, “Do you want to look at it?” His smile grows at your eager nod, moving his hand closer for you to grasp.
You take his hand gently. It’s cool to the touch. You aren’t sure why you expected it to be warm. You flip his hand over in your own, looking at all the grooves, the intricacies holding the joints and “bones” together. “This is…incredible,” you breathe. True old tech. The likes of which you haven’t seen since…Your fingers trail up to tap at each of his own tips. It follows all correct anatomy designs. There’s no give to the metal like there would be to skin. You thumb over his palm. His fingers curl slightly at the sensation. “Is…can you feel that?”
Vash nods. “Not as much as my other hand, but I can feel the pressure.” He watches your hand brush his, eyes soft. “Can feel it too when a wire gets pinched.”
You see them when he says it – nearly-microscopic lines running through the opaque metal. Those must be the wires, the “nerves.” What a fascinating piece of technology. “How do you do the upkeep for this?” You don’t even want to guess the fortune it takes to do so.
He shifts then and smiles vaguely. “Ah, I know a guy. Really good with tech like this.”
“Who? I thought I knew everyone who deals with old tech. I’m sure I would have heard about their work if they were making this!”
“Aw c’mon, you can’t know everyone. World’s a big place! Besides, I’m not in the business of telling secrets. Thought that was more your field.”
You hum. Despite his claim, you do know everyone – even the shady ones. He’s dodging, but you suppose that’s fine. I’ve only known you for two weeks, you remind yourself, and release his hand. Vash takes it back. The look on his face is gentle. He is gentle. Not often you find someone like him.
You feel your cheeks flush and look away, grateful for the dark. Darn you and your flash crushes. “Well, thank you for letting me look at it. It’s beautiful.” Your courage shrinking, you stand and dust off your pants. “I’m going to bed. Are you taking first watch?”
He nods. “I don’t think the other two can really…” he trails off and gives a sardonic smile at Don and Mac. They’ve both passed out, snoring loudly into their chests.
See, he was paying attention. You smile and wave. “Let me know when it’s my turn.”
A trailing ‘goodnight’ follows your heels. You head back to your sleeping bag, careful to check inside for any worms that may have decided to make their home there tonight. Finding none, you crawl in and face toward the fire, away from Vash.
What you don’t see is Vash rubbing his hands together and lacing fingers through fingers.
Your own hands rub together. The feeling of Vash’s metal hand will chase you into your dreams for nights to come.
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ninemelodies · 5 months
Text
portraits in the attic
Donna is in the console room, tucked under the center console and reading a magazine, when a headline about summer swimwear reminds her of a question she meant to ask the Doctor. The alien in question is tinkering away somewhere underneath the grating. Every now and then, she hears the whir of the sonic, followed by some sort of muttered exclamation. The TARDIS won’t translate, so Donna figures it’s either Gallifreyan or he’s cursing up a storm. It might be both. 
She puts down her magazine and shifts closer to the hole in the grating he had disappeared down. “Doctor?” 
The sonic whirs again, briefly, and then she hears him yell back, “Yes, Donna?” 
He sounds muffled and distant, like he’s further away than should be physically possible. But then again, Donna considers, she’s in a spaceship that’s bigger on the inside. And anyway, what’s a little spatial nonsense between friends? It’s certainly not the weirdest thing she’s seen while traveling with the Doctor. When she doesn’t respond immediately, he starts back up with the sonic, so Donna raises her voice to be heard. “Why is there a swimming pool in the library?” 
Abruptly, the sonic cuts off, and Donna hears the tail end of a huffled laugh. His shoes squeak on the metal as he walks and then he appears at the bottom of the hole, looking up. He climbs halfway up a ladder she hadn’t noticed, until he can comfortably rest his arms on the grated floor. “Where else would the pool be?” 
“In its own room?” Donna asks. “The humidity isn’t good for paper, you know.”
The Doctor waves his hand nonchalantly. “The TARDIS makes sure nothing happens to the books. Besides, all of the books are cataloged and archived in a database, so even if something did happen to the books or the library, they wouldn’t be lost. But if you’re really worried, the humidity is contained and regulated by a thermo-” 
Donna cuts him off. “Yeah, yeah, Spaceman. The TARDIS keeps them safe, that’s all you had to say. You don’t have to go all techno on me. You know I can hardly understand you when you start babbling.” The Doctor’s face flickers with something like disapproval, but before he can speak whatever thought just skittered across his mind, Donna asks, “Was it always in the library?” 
“No,” the Doctor admits. “It used to have its own room, but I had to jettison it.” 
“You can just get rid of rooms?” 
“In a pinch, I can eject or destroy pieces of the tardis for a power boost,” the Doctor confirms. “Destroying them allows for more of the TARDIS’s power to be directed elsewhere. Ejecting rooms…” the Doctor tilts his head as he considers how best to explain exactly how launching rooms from the TARDIS is an advantage. “Weeeell,” he drawls, “Since we’re talking about a swimming pool anyway. You know how swimmers will push off from the wall to get a boost?” When Donna nods, he continues. “It works very similar to that. It's Newton's third law at work, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Simply put, the room goes one way, and the TARDIS goes the other." He puts the sides of his hands together with his index fingers extended and then mimes them pushing off each other into opposite directions. “Very handy if you need a boost without attracting attention from scanners. I try not to do it very often because, somehow, I always end up needing the room I got rid of immediately after.” 
“Okay…” Donna shifts and draws her legs underneath her so that she is sitting cross-legged. The shift in her position has her leaning forward a bit, closer to the Doctor. “That part makes sense, but wouldn’t it have been better to launch the pool with the rest of the room? Otherwise the TARDIS would’ve had to launch the room and move the pool at the same time, right?” 
The Doctor gives her one of his half smiles. It tells her that she’s right, but the way his eyes are focused on something just past her shoulder also tells her that he’s miles away, thinking about something else. 
“Oi,” Donna calls. When she doesn’t get a response, she leans forward and gently flicks his forehead. “Hello? Earth to Martian.” 
That gets his attention. The Doctor’s eyes snap to her face, and Donna is not surprised at the depth of sadness in them. Most of the time, The Doctor looks more like an excited child than he has any right to, but sometimes, like now, when he starts thinking about the past, Donna can see each and everyone of his 900 plus years layered in his eyes. The sadness drags him down and down, until even Donna feels like she could drown in it. He grabs her wrist while she is distracted and pulls her hand away from his face.  
“On Messaline, I told you that I had been a father before.” He lets go of her wrist and she tucks both hands in between her legs. “I was more than that, I was a grandfather, at one point. My granddaughter, her name was Susan. She was my first companion.” The Doctor swallows thickly and looks away from Donna's face. “I taught her how to swim in that pool. She loved that pool. Out of every room in the TARDIS, that was the one she chose for herself.” The Doctor stops, takes a deep shuddering breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Didn’t feel right to just get rid of it.”
Donna watches him carefully, watches as his face smooths out and tears collect in his bottom lashes, so close to spilling over. He looks away and wipes his eyes and Donna pretends not to notice. “Do you do that for all your companions?” When he looks at her, brows furrowed, she expands. “Do you always remember stuff about them like that? Their favorite rooms and stuff?” 
And though the Doctor no longer has tears on his face, the sadness in his eyes and in the lines of his face lingers. “Oh, yes.” He whispers. His smile is so soft and tender. It's heartbreaking to see. “Every single one of them. I know you humans have this idea that you’re not important, that you’re such a small part of the universe and of my life that you’re nothing more than a blip or a speck, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I carry each of them with me, all the time, in here.” The Doctor taps his temple with his index finger, before moving his hand down to rest over one of his hearts. “And in here. Every one of them has been more important than they realized.”
“Did you love them?” It might be an odd question, but Donna knows that the Doctor loved Rose, and even Martha, in his own way. 
The Doctor tucks his hand into the crook of his elbow and rests his arm on the grating. He leans his head into the palm of his other hand and stares at Donna. “Yes,” he confirms. “All of them. I didn't love all of them the same, of course, but I did, yes.” 
When she had asked about the pool, Donna wasn’t expecting it to lead to this. She wasn’t sure why the Doctor was being so willing to answer her questions right now, or why he was revealing so much about his past. Normally, the Doctor kept his most painful memories close to his chest, locked tight and sealed until they absolutely couldn’t be contained anymore. He revealed more in moments of duress and strife than at any other time, yet, here he was, answering Donna truthfully and honestly. 
Maybe he had listened when she told him that he talked too much but said too little. 
The openness in his eyes was beginning to make her uncomfortable, and she wasn’t sure she would like the answers she would get if she continued down this line of questioning. She decided to give him, and herself, a way out. “So what does that make me then? The big, useless, ginger house cat?” 
The Doctor shakes his head and sighs. “I keep telling you you’re special, one day you’re going to believe me.” 
“In your dreams, Spaceman.” 
Before the Doctor can reply, the TARDIS gives a sickening lurch. Donna's hand shoots out to grasp the edge of the console to keep herself from falling forward. The Doctor is not so lucky. He jerks back, slamming his spine into the far edge of the hole he was standing in. He lets out a pained groan and leans forward to rest his forehead against the floor. 
Once the TARDIS settles, Donna hesitantly releases her death grip on the console. “Doctor? You ok?” 
He gives a brief thumbs up before he lifts his head from the floor. “I think that’s my cue to go finish those repairs. She's a little upset that I've left one of the stabilizers unplugged this long.” 
And now that he’s mentioned it, Donna can feel a vague sense of irritation sitting just on the edge of her mind. When she turns her attention to it, the feeling fades into something soft and warm. “She's only upset with you,” She snorts. “She adores me.” 
The Doctor rolls his eyes. “She's my ship, you can’t gang up on me like this!” He protests. 
“Maybe if you didn’t hit her with a mallet!” Donna shoots back. 
“Maybe if she’d behave I -” The TARDIS zaps him in retaliation. The Doctor jerks his hand away from the grating with a yelp and shakes out the remaining tingles. “Alright! I’m going!” He backs down the ladder with a sour look on his face. Just before he disappears from view completely, he looks back up at Donna. “You know that -” He cuts off abruptly, shakes his head and keeps climbing down. He opens his mouth, like he is going to say something, before he shakes his head and keeps climbing down. 
Donna watches him walk into the depths of the TARDIS again and figures that’s the end of the conversation, for now, until the Doctor has finished whatever tinkering he was doing. She retrieves her magazine that she abandoned, tucks herself back under the console and lets the humming of the TARDIS and the Doctor’s unintelligible muttering wash over her. 
It was a funny old world on the TARDIS, she mused. The Doctor hadn’t been lying, but there wasn’t another place she’d rather be.
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bees-shitposting · 1 year
Text
Bees Short Story
“Do you believe in fate?” She asks with a smile she hides behind her cup of tea
“Why do you ask” Yang responds
“No reason.”
They didn’t happen quickly. She never really thought anything of their relationship. How they always fell together just seemed like another part of life.
Every minute together added to their lifetimes of being. She didn’t question how she felt about Yang because how she felt about Yang didn’t feel new.
It felt natural. It felt ancient. It felt like they’d already been this way for a life time, maybe even more.
So she fell into step next to her going to classes, she laughed at her jokes when everyone else rolled their eyes. Their souls fit together, she felt like she could put Yang on like a well worn jacket, she was so familiar. so comforting. It was in her nature to stand next to her.
They never really talked about it, how their gravity shifted when the other walked in the room, how they could always find the other- as if they had another sense meant entirely for knowing where they were.
Blake never gave how she felt a second thought. That is until The Fall.
It wasn’t until she was away from Yang that she realized that being with her was just as easy as breathing, and being without her… well it felt like drowning.
She couldn’t quite come to terms with it. How her world felt different, how her gravity changed and just pushed her into herself.
She could’ve never known she’d lived without Yang before all of this.
Yang felt it too. She felt the shift when she woke up. She didn’t really believe in fate anymore. Why would it design to make her feel like this?
If Blake’s gravity changed to push her into herself, yangs designed to tear her apart. To leave her ripped open and raw, vulnerable to anything and everything.
It’s a wonder that she relearns how to exist. How to stand without being pulled along by an invisible golden thread drawing her who knows where.
And it’s a wonder when that thread starts to tug at her again too.
It’s in the oddest moments, after she met back with Weiss. When she walked into haven with Ruby.
Through the fight her gravity changes. Until she sees her.
Neither of them say it when they come together again. It’s easier to ignore when they’re doing something. But their gravity is back.
They fall into stride, they have all their senses back. As much as it hurts, as the raw edges that had torn apart wear back together - it feels like breathing again.
And when they see Adam again. When time and space and fate all crash together and force them into this ugly, cruel scenario. It doesn’t feel like they’re falling apart.
It feels like they’re crashing together.
Crashing together how the tide crashes into rocks, how the sky meets the sea and the sun scatters its light across the water. Crashing together as if there’s no other way they could be, not for long anyways.
And then it’s calm.
The tide settles and rests on the rocks and the sun sinks beneath the waves and peace overcomes them.
Their lifetimes together leaked into every day, to every glance, every touch. Every quiet moment was filled with understanding.
Their rotation was fixed, their orbit was locked. And just as surely as the tides rose and fell they ebbed and flowed with each other. Every minute together adding to their lifetimes of being.
They don’t question their relationship, their relationship is as natural as breathing. But they can’t help but to think, should they?
It isn’t until Yang falls that Blake realizes it was too late to think, past time to ask.
It isn’t until Blake sees her again that her eyes light up and she realizes that she still can.
And it isn’t until they’re on a bridge over clouds, that they finally give into their gravity and fall together.
After they get back, when they finally have a moment to breathe, they sit over a cup of tea.
“Do you believe in fate?” Blake asks
“Yeah, I think I do”
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Note
Hi!! I absolutely love your maze runner stuff!! I was was wondering about how the glazers would react to a trans guy coming up from the box? Maybe he’s a bit on the quieter side (until you get to know him and then he’s just as mischievous as the rest of them) and enjoys art? Anyways sorry if this was vague or anything I didn’t see and requesting rules on your page! But yeah, love your work and I hope you have a great day!!
Hi! Thanks so much for requesting this one I had so much fun writing all my wholesome maze boys ❤❤❤ Hope you enjoyed :)
Yellow painted skies
Platonic gladers x trans masc!reader
Notes: I DIDN'T REALISE UNTIL I WROTE MOST OF A FIC THAT THIS WAS PROBABLY MEANT TO BE HEADCANON-FORMATTED. I rewrote it but I couldn't help but keep in the Minho scene so that's why that's there
Warnings: language (glader slang + normal swearing)
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Newt
Your first friend, of course
Newt's the best guy and is so, so caring on your first day, and you quickly find comfort in him
He immediately supports you when you're struggling with some things on your first night
When you're grabbing clothes for a shower, he offers you a bunch of different shirts, including a really big, loose one if you want it, to make sure you're as comfortable as possible
If you've got a period, Newt's your go to guy. At first, you're anxious to ask about anything, but Newt's pretty intuitive and understands what you're looking for
He prepares strips of linen and clean fabrics since they don't have access to proper sanitary products
Plus, he's got all his subtle ways of making you more comfortable without bringing unwanted attention - he might pass you a hot water bottle before bed, or give you less demanding work while you're in the worst of it
---
Newt is kind to every new person that joins, and everybody loves him, but eventually most Greenies will find their own close friend circles within their jobs.
You're one of the first newbies in a while to actually stick with Newt
You're one of the few people that doesn't get on Newt's nerves every so often, and he's always relieved to see you after a long day
He'll sit down and cross his ankles over your legs when he's had a hard time, and you'll just talk and unwind
When neither of you can sleep, you'll find each other and just have profound, deep late night talks, which started right from your first day
---
Newt loves your art and finds it relaxing to just watch you draw, or paint
The two of you (and sometimes Minho and Frypan) can sit for hours in peaceful silence, just you sitting up with a sketchbook and the other guys sprawled out on the grass
He's picked up some art tips from you too, but he doesn't really paint to make art of any ground-breaking quality; he usually just splashes colours across a page for fun and to calm his mind, which- is so valid, of course
Minho
Minho didn't like you immediately, and he'd be honest about that too - you were a little too quiet for him
But one moment changed that for him (cue cutscene)
"This is the Map," says Minho, gesturing at the covered table. He's been giving you the Runners intro crash course, which is the first job the Gladers explain since most new guys aren't gonna be chosen for it. "You'll see it if you become a Runner." You nod again, as you've been doing a lot for the past few minutes. "Don't talk much, do you?" comments Minho, arms crossing over his chest as he looks at you appraisingly. "Minho," warns Newt. You blink at him, not really sure how to respond to that. "I-" "It's okay," interrupts Minho. "Just something to work on. Cause listen, Newt here can coddle you and the rest of the greenbeans all he wants, but the hard truth is that this ain't a place for some shank who isn't gonna speak up. We're a team, in the Glade. Everyone's part of the family. I just wanna clear this up now, let you know that if you don't open your mouth and use your voice, you're gonna have problems." "God- every shuckin' month," groans Newt, massaging his temples. "Now it's fine if you're just quiet," continues Minho, "But I just think it's best to know that you'll have a much better time here if you talk to people." Newt sighs. "Look, Minho's right, but you can take your time, okay? Settle in at your own rate." "Alright now, Greenie. Anything to say about the Runner's intro so far? Or just anything to say at all?" Fuck, okay. This is the start. Just say something funny, aim for levity. "Those drawings are shit," you say flatly, gesturing to the pencil sketches of the Maze you'd seen on the way in. Newt chokes. Minho blinks, before he bursts out in cackles. Oh, well that wasn't too hard. "You should really work on how the shadows turn out instead of just colouring it black," you continue, since insults are apparently the way to go. Minho starts wheezing, and you look to Newt expecting to see some amusement on his face, but he just looks shocked. "Those- those are my drawings," he manages to say. Your eyes widen, and your stomach drops. "Oh. Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I thought- oh my god." Minho's crying laughing by now, bending over and clutching his stomach. You jolt slightly as his hand lands on your shoulder. "Nevermind," he gasps out between snorts. "Forget what I said, you're gonna be fine here." You stare at Newt, mortified, but he just shakes his head, an amused expression forming on his face. "They are pretty shit, aren't they? It's alright, maybe you can replace them for us." Newt slings an arm around your shoulder as he leads you out of the hut. "C'mon, gardening intro's next. Minho, don't piss yourself," he adds, looking down with mock-disdain at his friend.
So... yeah. You guys pretty much just became friends after that
Except- okay, with Newt, you'd definitely developed a soft spot for him, and he seems to like you too, despite the way you insulted him pretty much to his face on your second day.
But with Minho, you've gotten the opposite of a soft spot for him
The two of you mainly thrive on mutual bitchiness, resulting in a friendship mainly consisting of eyerolls and snarky remarks
It works though, and you sit with him at every meal, always facing each other and playing some foot-kicking-game under the table, always with a straight face
He'll wait for you when his evening runs finish before dinner, and you'll wake up early to have breakfast with him and the Runners
He doesn't touch art himself, but he likes to sit with you and annoy you while you're meant to be having some peaceful time
To set the scene, it's usually Newt lying on his stomach watching as you sit in front your canvas (multiple pieces of paper stuck to a piece of wood), mixing paints, with Minho sitting beside you and making little comments
"Paint it yellow."
"That's the sky."
"It's sunny."
"The sky is still blue."
Idk I just think he'd make silly little comments for absolutely no reason
Also, you end up painting the sky yellow, and it fucking looks better
Frypan
After hearing from Newt that you liked art, Frypan started looking for materials for you, cause he always goes out of his way to make the Greenies as comfortable as possible
In his free time, he went out to crush up little plants and pigment rocks to experiment with mixing them with water and make paints and watercolours
Most people had decided that you seemed to just want to keep to yourself, including Frypan, but he saw you getting close and joking around with Newt and Minho, and knew that you would open up if only people gave you the chance
So he kept it slow, grinning at you when you go up for meals, until you started always smiling back at him, and you started hanging out on a regular basis
He's genuinely astounded by every piece of art you show him, whether it's a simple sketch of a random flower or a sunrise painting you'd spent days on (It's always "Shuck, Y/n. This is amazing!")
Gally
Gally is besties with Frypan (I will fight you on this)
So that's how you met him
He'd always be cool with you, just "sup, Greenie" every time you were both with Frypan at the same time
But then you started to build your own relationship with him too
You became friends when you started sketching architecture-y things for him, and he'd annotate little instructions on the drawings to hand out to the other builders
He's always just quietly impressed by your sketches, nodding and "thanks Greenie"
You actually become known as the 'art guy' around the Glade
The Medjacks will call you in to make pencil sketches of the plants and herbs for their little medicine book
You've always got Frypan's paint stained on your fingers, but it's a look
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Thanks for reading <3
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alittlextrathatway · 3 months
Note
Line: "You gave me roses and I left them there to die." Location: firehouse
Another entry for the Hockey AU.
You can find the additional parts here and here.
***
After coffee that night, they start texting again. It’s a slow re-entry into knowing each other again, but it’s a start.
On one of his days off, he and Severide are invited to the firehouse for dinner. Sylvie says their garage sale committee has a proposal for them. Severide chuckles as his fiancé, Stella Kidd, sends him the exact same text.
“They’re gonna ask us to sign autographs in order to draw a crowd,” Kelly stated, smirking knowingly. “Watch. We’ll have a solid home cooked dinner and then Mouch and Herrmann are gonna try to swindle us into showing up.”
Mouch and Herrmann. Damn. Those are names he hasn’t heard in a while. “Maybe we should. The money from the garage sale helps struggling first responders and their families. Why not?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Severide replies with a sigh.
Matt grins and slaps his back as he finishes changing out for practice. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And it’s the right thing to do.”
Severide’s guess is spot on. After dinner, they’re presented with all the reasons they should show up and sign autographs at Firehouse 51’s annual garage sale. They save everyone time and agree before Herrmann and Mouch are done trying to sell them on the idea.
Afterward, Severide wanders off to find Stella, leaving Matt on his own. He hasn’t seen Sylvie’s face in a few days and he misses being near her so without much thought he finds himself searching the firehouse for her.
He finds her sitting on her bunk, reading a book. The ambo was out when he arrived and all through dinner. He isn’t even sure she knew he was there.
He leans against the half wall adjacent to her cot and clears his throat. “Reading anything good?”
Her head snaps up and her eyes immediately finding his. “Oh, wow. Talk about a blast from the past. Seeing you in the firehouse takes me back.”
“Me too,” he says, smiling through a twinge of regret in his gut. “It’s been too long. I shouldn’t have been away so long.”
She swallows thickly, glancing away from him to hide the sadness he knows he’ll see in her face. “No, you shouldn’t have. But you’re back now and we can’t change the past — no matter how much we may want to.” Scooting back in her cot, she pats the foot of the bed. “Have a seat.”
He doesn’t give her a chance to rethink the offer and sits immediately. “The last time I was here we were celebrating Thanksgiving while you were on shift.”
She smiles slowly as she recalls the day. “That was fun. You and Severide and Cindy Herrmann cooked the food while we went on calls. You looked adorable in an apron being bossed around by a badass midwestern mom.”
“Cindy’s sweet but she scares me a little bit. She has that disappointed mom look down. That’s a very sharp weapon when she wants it to be.”
“Accurate,” Sylvie agrees with a soft chuckle. “And that hasn’t changed a bit.”
“And then apart from that, I think the last time I even saw this place was…” Oh god, why did he bring this up? “Over FaceTime on your birthday after I first moved to Vegas.”
A mere four months before they broke up.
“Right, you sent me roses.”
He has to work hard to withhold a wince. In truth, he didn’t send those. His assistant did. He got caught up in his practice schedule and team events and completely forgot. At the last minute, he asked his assistant to send Sylvie flowers to the firehouse, not thinking to specify her favorite flower — gerbera daisies. So, his assistant sent a very generic bouquet of red roses. Which she received while they were on FaceTime together. Her face told him she saw straight through the gesture. She knew he had phoned it in.
“Yeah, I did,” he confirms with a forced smile.
“Full disclosure,” she says, guilt briefly flashing across her face. “I didn’t take them home. I left them on the coffee table in the common room. I think I even forgot to water them. They didn’t last long.”
Is it ironic that a symbol of how he neglected her ended up being neglected too?
He scoffs and shakes his head, at his past self and not at her. Never at her. “I don’t blame you. I didn’t exactly give you my best effort that day.”
“No, you didn’t. But I never told you it hurt me. I could have,” she says, gnawing on the inside of her lip. “But I didn’t want to rock the boat. I thought if I did I’d lose you faster.”
“I’m the one that lost you, Sylvie. You never lost me. Make no mistake about that,” he assures her. Hell, to this very day, he’s still hers.
“Never?” She asks with a brow lifted in his direction. He thinks he can see a flirtatious glint in her blue eyes but it’s tempered by her downturned mouth. It makes her incredibly hard to read.
“Never,” he repeats.
“If you could do that day over again,” she begins, a melancholy grin tugging at one corner of her mouth. “What would you do different?”
“Order gerbera daisies to be sent to the firehouse and then arrange to fly back here to see you on my days off. We should have celebrated your birthday together, even if it was belated.”
Her breath catches in her throat as she listens and then a slow satisfied smile spreads over her lips — replacing the melancholy completely. “Good answer.”
“Speaking of do-overs,” he says, inhaling and exhaling slowly while he gathers his courage. “Maybe I could take you out and we could have a little more than a coffee?”
“Is that you’re way of asking me for a date?”
He chuckles at her wry smile as she calls him out. “Yes, it is.”
“In that case,” she begins, rolling her lips and setting aside her book. “I’d love to. How about tomorrow night?”
“Impatient, huh?” He teases.
She laughs and smacks his arm. “Shut up. You know you are too. I’m a fantastic date.”
He grabs her hand as she tries to pull it away and holds it in both of his, beaming brightly at her. “You’re the best date. And tomorrow night would be perfect.”
After years of believing she’d always be the one that got away, he can wait one more day. But after that, he’s never letting her get away again.
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WELL HELLO, SWEETHEART
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy!Henderson!reader
Summary: what if Eddie took a liking in a different Henderson even before Dustin came?
Warnings: none
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Eddie watched as the elder Henderson walked past their table, Books tightly in her grasp as she hurried to her own table and friends. He had being eyeing her for years now, but she payed no attention, not once had she ever talked or wasted her time with the freak of Hawkins High.
But Dustin adored Eddie, he would come out of his way to help the older boy and give him ideas for campaigns and songs even if he knew Eddie made them great anyway.
Eddie locked his eyes on her back as she sat down, making everyone on her table look up and smile at her, she didn’t have much friends. Only 3, one of them being Robin Buckley but that didn’t matter, it's not like he was Mr popular at school, but it still put a smile on his face to see her have close friends that she could trust, even if he wasn't one of them.
"Hey, Henderson?" Eddie asked his younger friend. Making the boy look up immediately.
"Yes, Eddie"
"Do you tell your sister about me? Or us ever?" Eddie asked him
"Well um. Not much but I've told her you're the DM of the club and some other stuff I guess" the curly headed boy shrugged
"So nothing about me?" Eddie glared. Not in a mean way but to look more serious than usual.
"Well yeah, I figured she would already know you since you're in the same year and all" Dustin said.
"You would think. But, no" Eddie laughed sarcastically while standing up and walking slowly over to the boy.
"After everything I've done for you guys, the endless campaigns, the taking you under my wing, would you find it in your hearts to...repay my somehow?" Eddie somewhat suggested.
"I mean yeah, sure. What is it?" The Wheeler boy smiled politely
"Put a good word in from me to her, would you?" Eddie replied, picking the boys up by the shoulders
"To who? Y/n?" Dustin stuttered at Eddie's sudden movements.
"Yeah. And while you're at it, go find Lucas, we cant let him be taken to the dark side. Yeah? Ok, go" Eddie demanded, pushing the boys away from him.
~
"Hey Y/n" your younger brother, Dustin greets as you dig through your locker, trying to find your sketch book. You look back and see him and Mike looking a bit distressed as they smile at you awkwardly
"Hi? What do you want?" you smile tightly, exaggerating the 'hi'
"Did you know Eddie gets great grades. He's super smart" Mike moves his hands as he speaks.
"Then how come he's repeated senior year twice" you say, puzzled and confused
"He repeated?" The raven head laughs, acting clueless to his friends failure in education
"Ok seriously, what do you guys what, I don’t have time for this" you shut your locker as you found your sketch book and turn to face them fully.
"Nothing. We just wanted to tell you how great he is. He's amazing, i- we think you'd love him" Dustin nods vigorously
"Sure, Dusty. I'm happy that you found a great friend but he cant be that amazing" you roll your eyes.
Truth is, you found yourself looking at The Munson Boy a lot, whether it was in the hall, Across the cafeteria or in class. You couldn't help it. You found yourself thinking about him before going to bed and it weirded you out to say the least. The first and last time you talked to him is when he bumped into you in the hallway while you we're a sophomore and he was a junior. You wouldn't actually classify it as talking cause all you said to each other was muffled 'sorry's' but you still counted it, yet you don't get why you care if it was talking or not. You knew a lot more than your brother and friends thought you knew about Eddie.
it wasn't your fault you asked the teacher to make you switch seats to sit next to him, was it? It wasn’t your fault you look at his doodles he draws on his desks. It wasn’t you fault for looking for him at pep rallies, you knew he wouldn't be there, but it was worth trying. It wasn’t your fault you couldn't keep your eyes off him when near him. It wasn’t your fault.
"Come on. I bet you have a lot in common!" Dustin pleads for God knows what.
"No. We really don't" you lied
As much as you would like to admit. You liked all the metal bands he did: Metallica, Dio, Wasp, Mötley Crüe.
You liked playing DnD. You played a lot in middle school. Got to level 29 but suddenly stopped playing as the satanic panic flew over. You didn’t want to be known as a freak. You were actually the boys Dungeon master for some time, so you had a lot of experience with the game.
“you don’t even know him yet, you don’t know that” Dustin complains like a child
“why do you care so much if I like him or not, Dusty. I don’t like him so just leave it alone” you say defensively and walk away from the boys.
from a distance you could hear Dustin scowl at Mike for making the mistake of telling you Eddie had good grades and acting like an idiot when you said he had repeated twice. 
You enter your class for the last period and sit down at your desk at the very back where the seat next to you, where Eddie was supposed to be, stayed unoccupied. You sigh and lay your head down on the desk, already bored out of your mind and just tired.
Everyone piles in the classroom and takes their seats with their friends and you stare at the door, not exactly sure what your waiting for, because he barely comes to class anyway but you still wait, just in case.
But he doesn't. Twelve minutes into the lesson and his seat still stays empty.
You start to fall asleep in your chair as a sudden open of the door interrupts the lesson.
"Well, nice of you to join us, Mister Munson" Miss O'donnell says annoyed.
"Yeah, yeah" Eddie mutters under his breath as he passes you to get to his seat.
You look down and your desk with your sketch book open on the only empty page left. The pen in your hand connects with your page and starts doodling random things here and there and soon enough you have a full page of hearts, stars, flowers and bees. A weird combination of drawings on one page but that didn't bother the person watching you.
Eddie found it cute how your tongue peaked out when you were so concentrated on your doodles and when he realised you sighed in a wasted last page of what used to be real sketches of people, animals and things, to now be your subconscious hearts and stars.
He watched you as you shut your book and look up at the boring lecture and finally pay attention.
He didnt want to stop looking at you and after the freshmen told him they had not only failed but made themselves look like idiots, he gave that idea up and wanted to give a good impression himself, if they couldn't do, he should do it.
Eddie stretches his arm out to lay in front of you. Making his sleeve go up more to leave you with a perfect size canvas of his arm to draw on. You look down at his gesture and then back at him, to be met with the side of his face as he looks at the front of the room. Trying to hide how nervous he would be.
"Go ahead, draw" he whispers, still looking ahead but moving his hand toward you more.
You smile sheepishly at him and pick your pen up again and draw on him, trying to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt him in the slightest.
You have no idea what it was supposed to be while drawing it but when you look up to see if he's ok you see him already looking down at you, giving you a slight smile, you look back down at his arm in embarrassment and continue drawing lines and curves, shading some in and leaving some blank, to give some depth just to make it look half way decent.
~
The end of the day bell rings and you get up, packing your things and rushed out of there, not waiting for him to say it's bad or he doesn't like it.
You open your locker and put your stuff in for tomorrow, you drop your pen on the floor and bend down to get it and when you get back up your met with him in front of you.
"Well hello, Sweetheart" he beams at you
"Oh- Hi" you look away and place your pen away, Shutting the door of your locker.
"The drawing looks really cool. You're really good" he compliments
"Oh uh, thanks" you begin to walk away, not slow but enough so he can walk with you. You look down at his on show arm to see the dragon on his arm.
"So um. Dustin told me you play. You should join us sometime, it would be fun" he suggested
"I haven't actually played in a while" you laugh awkwardly
"That's fine. No one would mind, he just told me you were really good so I wanted to put you to the test" he shrugs
"I'll think about it" you say quietly
"You don't have to if you don't want to, I mean I get it, you wouldn't want to get called a freak like me and all, I just thought it would be fun to have you there" he shook his head in embarrassment and looks down his feet
"No it's not that, I just- I dont think you're a freak" you mess up your train of thought and stutter
"You don't?" He looks up, a bit shocked
"No, I don't really get why they even call you that to be honest" you murmur but he still manages to hear you. Making him smile in content
"Well thank you, that um, that means a lot coming from you" he smirks, opening the door to his van.
"You have a way to get home?" He asks hopefully
"Yep" I nod
"Ok. I'll see you later then" he starts the engine and winds the window down.
"I'll play" I tell him making him look at me while slowly back out of his spot
"Yeah?"
"Yeah" I smile
"Well our new campaign starts tomorrow so, you could come then if you want" he suggests
"Yeah sure" I agree
"Great. I'll see you then" he says and heads off
As I walk back over to my car I see Dustin already waiting for me on the passenger side
"I knew you liked him" he smirks
"Who said I liked him?" I unlocked the car and waited for him to get in before starting it.
"Come on. The way you were looking at him! You totally like him" he crosses his arms
"Do not!" I yell loudly before driving out of the car park
"Yes you do" he smiles
"Fine! I do, ok, there" I sigh in frustration
"He likes you too" he giggles like a kid
_______
This is so bad omg😀🤣.
Hope you enjoyedddddd
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tti episode 12
“Last time, on Total Takes Island: Chef had the campers partake in his specialized boot camp, resulting in another round of heinous injuries. Julia gave Michael the cold shoulder to warm up to Scruffy, and Courtney attempted to regain Bonnie’s trust after Caesar’s elimination the week before. Ultimately, Michael won for the Anons and the Fujoshis sent Ass packing- finally! Will any of Courtney’s team survive to see the merge? Will Max finally snap? Find out now, on Total! Takes! Island!”
Scruffy sits in a sunny patch of flowers somewhere on the furthest point of the island, far enough from the cabins to not have to worry about being disturbed. They leaf through their notepad, where various notes and half-scribbled drawings are put to paper, and then translate those notes to a leatherbound journal in their lap. 
The sound of an explosion, and then of Chris’ booming laughter over the intercom system momentarily causes them to pause their transcription and take some more notes on a fresh page of the pad. 
The journal is carefully handwritten in amazing penmanship, done in a black ink that glistens in the sunlight. Illustrations accompany a few of the sections, mostly of the anomaly Scruffy has been observing on the island- two-headed chipmunks, sentient venus flytraps, seemingly massive squid tentacles off in the distant reaches of the lake in the early hours of the morning. It perplexes them, half because there’s not nearly enough evidence of something serious to talk about it, half because they haven’t seen a single sign of radioactive material or robotic creatures scurrying around. 
Scruffy sighs, closing the notebook and placing it in a small, shallow grave under a large rock. 
---
SCRUFFY: “I feel like I’ve been giving off a kind of secretive vibe lately, and that’s why I have all these other players on my back now. I’m not really hiding anything- I just don’t really need to share.”
---
Julia waves, sitting on one side of a very tired looking Michael at the end of the Anon’s table. Scruffy walks over, giving Scary a nervous smile as they glide past her, and then sits beside Julia. 
“Where’ve you been, Scruff?”
“Just taking some more notes, putting things on paper,” Scruffy shrugs, emphasizing the word notes so she’s sure they aren’t hiding anything. Julia doesn’t seem to care. 
“Oh, silly me. Have you met Mikey yet?” she says, gesturing to the green-haired girl beside her. Michael frowns at her friend, and then stares with a slight contempt at Scruffy. 
They look away. “Yeah, we’re acquainted,”
“Good, can’t have my two bestest friends in the whole world feeling left out, huh?” Julia beams, pulling them both in for a hug. She smirks at Max a little from across the table. He rolls his eyes. 
---
MAX: “Whatever. I don’t need Julia, I don’t need Scruffy, and I definitely don’t need Michael. There are plenty of good players left! I mean, there’s… there’s… um…”
---
Austin sits across from the trio, Kelly nowhere in sight.
"Where's your owner at?" Julia teases.
He answers without missing a beat. "Tanning,"
---
JULIA: "It's not that I see either one of those clowns as a threat, but I'm not letting anyone fly under the radar. Not on my watch. Plus... he just annoys the crap out of me."
---
The sound of a plane buzzes over the mess hall, causing everyone to duck and cover their ears. 
Austin is the first out the door, followed by Kelly and the rest of the teams, who watch as Chris lands a large mustard-yellow (and barely stable) plane on the grass outside the mess hall. 
He hops out, tossing his helmet away and pulling out a megaphone. “Welcome, campers, to your very own- extreme! Sports! Challenge!”
Courtney gives Bonnie and McLovin an extremely nervous frown. 
“Today, your teams will be competing in a 3-part action-packed death-defying triathlon of lethal awesomeness! Your first challenge is extreme sofa skydiving!” He shouts into the megaphone, despite not being far from the campers. “One player from each team will skydive from this plane and land on a sofa bed waiting below- at least, you’ll hope they do!”
Chef slides the side door of the plane open and tosses two dilapidated parachute packs out, landing at the feet of either team. 
“And our lucky divers will be… Scary and Bonnie!” 
Scary giggles, grabbing the pack and putting it on before running off into the woods. Chris blinks.
“She’ll be back,” Scruffy says plainly. 
Courtney lifts the Fujoshis pack and helps Bonnie put it on. “You can do this! Remember, surviving is our teams only goal right now,”
“R-right,” Bonnie murmurs, shaky hands attempting to buckle the straps of the chute. 
“Before we get started, let’s talk about challenge number two- two victims- I mean, players- will be moose rodeo riding! In our original season, we had the loser launched into a pile of smelly socks, but we ran out. So, instead, we filled a moat around the pen with all the chewed gum Chef’s been collecting from the mess hall!” Chris chuckles, gesturing to a moose in a fenced in area, a large pit full of chewed gum surrounding it. The players wince. “And our competitors will be… Kelly and McLovin!”
Kelly smiles confidently while a look of fear crosses McLovin’s face. 
“And of course, for our final part: X-Treme Seadoo Water Skiing! Contestants will water ski this race course and grab as many flags as they can while an opposing team member drives the seadoo!” 
“Um…” Julia looks around the designated racing area. “Where’s the water?”
Scruffy leans to whisper in her ear. “There is none,”
“Well said, Scruff,” Chris grins. “It’s basically impossible. Austin and Courtney, you’re up for this one. Oh, and Fujoshis- try not to get too hurt. You guys are more of a group project than a team now... And for the winners, you’ll be rewarded with a tricked-out mobile shower!” 
Chris gestures to a small, shiny trailer at the peak of a hill. Just about every contestant oohs and ahs at it, while some jaws drop. 
---
BONNIE: “Okay, even I’ll say it: I would die for that shower. I would kill for that shower. Any bathroom without a million dead flies in the toilet is like a luxury spa to me!”
---
Austin and Kelly sit in the confessional together. 
AUSTIN: “Right groovy, baby, I haven’t had a proper conditioning since I got here, yeah?”
KELLY: “Oh my gosh, tell me about it! My skin is so dead from all the hard water.”
AUSTIN: “I feel like an ally-gator skin purse, baby,”
---
Bonnie steps onto the plane as Scary follows, chewing a mouthful of gum they scooped from the moose moat. 
“Um… where’d you get the- actually, don’t answer that,” Bonnie says. 
The plane lifts off, and Bonnie’s knees shake as they see the ground disappearing. Scary chews faster. 
“Here comes the landing!” Chris shouts, opening the sliding door. The air whips around them, and before he can even tell them to go, Scary jumps out, blowing a massive bubble with their gum and floating off into the distance. 
Chris and Bonnie stare. “How is that even possible?” they shout. 
Chris shrugs. “I dunno, but you’re up next!”
He shoves them outside and they scream in pure terror, initially covering their eyes before remembering their pack and pulling the cords. The parachute pops out and Bonnie floats to the ground, landing on their feet right on the pull-out sofa. 
Courtney and McLovin cheer while the nearby Anons look around for where Scary went. 
“One point for the Fujos,” Chef says, half-heartedly waving a pink flag. Bonnie grins, throwing off the parachute. “That wasn’t so bad,”
---
“Your only goal is to stay on this angry, probably hungry moose for as long as possible,” Chris smiles, setting a ladder by the fence of the pen. “Whoever doesn’t die first wins!”
“Oh, whatever,” Julia says, turning to Kelly. “You better not lose this for us, your highness.”
Kelly shoves her out of the way and climbs up the ladder with ease, straddling the moose and holding on tight. They grin as Chef blares an air horn and the moose begins bucking, throwing them around with ease. 
“If they survive this, someone here owes me money,” Max sighs, hands on his hips. 
Michael rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the team spirit,”
The two glare at each other while Julia leans on Scruffy’s shoulder, watching the rodeo and ignoring her former friend’s plight. 
Kelly’s highly manicured nails have a sharp grip on the antlers of the beast and the entire crowd watches in relative suspense as the time on Chris’ stopwatch slowly runs out. 
Kelly hops off, landing on the ground in a somersault and popping back to their feet flawlessly. "Gymnastics fusion class!"
“A point for the Anons! Can the Fujoshis score on top of that?” Chris grins, looking to McLovin, who seems to shrink 2 feet in height. 
Chef walks over, hoisting up the thin guy and tossing him atop the still-raging beast. He screams in terror as it throws him around, and McLovin manages to hold on for a measly six seconds before it launches him into the gum-pit. Chef fishes him out, sticky and covered in wads of pink and blue. 
He groans in pain. Courtney and Bonnie both slightly wince. Michael rolls her eyes. 
“We have a tie!” Chris grins. “Whoever wins the Water Ski contest wins today’s challenge- and whoever doesn’t gets to send a sore loser home!”
Julia turns to Austin, who’s busy buttoning a Hawaiian shirt over the speedo he apparently owns. “You better not screw this up,”
“Relax, baby, I’ve got this. I’m winning that spa for me and my girl,”
“It’s for the team, doofus,” Julia snaps, then looks down at his shirt. “And why are you wearing that thing anyway?”
“Safety,” 
“Why do I even bother?” She sighs, walking away and dragging Scruffy behind her.
"He was wearing it during the cliff diving challenge, too," they murmur, using their free hand to check the early pages of their notes. "Huh."
“You sure you got this, Courtney?” McLovin asks, picking gum off of his shirt. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”
“Someone’s gotta do it,” they sigh, looking at the rest of the team- Bonnie still looks like they went through the spin cycle on a dryer and McLovin can barely stand. They set a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”
Michael watches the display from a few feet away with a frown. Max- standing a bit further from her than his other teammates- takes note of her expression. "What's your problem?"
"None of your business," she snaps back, and then walks around the entire team to stand next to Julia and Scruffy on the other side.
Courtney hops onto the driver’s side of the vehicle, Austin flexing and posing until he grabs onto the handles. They rev up the jet and start off at the maximum speed, throwing Austin around like a ragdoll. He somehow manages to stay upright, cruising along on the pair of sandals he’s wearing without a care in the world. 
Courtney looks behind them every few seconds and growls as he picks up yet another flag. 
He laughs. “Yeah, baby, yeah!”
A button pops off his shirt and a flash of fear crosses his face. He looks down nervously. 
Julia crosses her arms with a wide grin.
---
Julia smiles, holding up a pair of scissors.
---
A few more buttons pop off. 
“Oh, no, baby… that’s not good,”
Scruffy turns to Julia and sees her smiling. “What did you do?”
 The remaining buttons pop off and his shirt flies open, revealing a shockingly perfectly sculpted hairy chest underneath. Julia’s jaw drops. The rest of the contests stop what they’re doing and stare in absolute awe.
Courtney turns back to see what everyone’s looking at and becomes so distracted the vehicle crashes straight into a rock on the course, sending Austin flying across the entire area, over the cabins, all the way out to the campfire area and directly into the stone wall behind it. 
---
AUSTIN: "I'm aware of the effect I have on birds. and blokes. everyone, really, I'm shagadelic baby yeah!"
---
The contestants, Chris, and Chef run over to see his crushed, flattened pancake-like body slide down the side of the cliff face and onto the dirt while he groans weakly. 
“Well… um, I guess we have our winners, then,” Chris says. “Fujoshis, you’ve somehow survived another day!”
Bonnie and McLovin cheer, and Courtney (still a bit dazed from the crash) walks over and grins. 
“Anons, I’ll see you tonight,” 
---
Bonnie steps out of the luxury shower, wearing a fuzzy lavender robe and sighing happily. Courtney follows, peeling cucumbers off their eyes and stretching. “Well… that challenge was something,” 
“Something, yeah. Man, Caesar would’ve loved that!” Bonnie smiles. “I hope he’s doing okay.”
“Anyone off this island should be alright. I think we’re doing okay ourselves, though,” they chuckle, walking beside their friend to the cabins in a comfortable silence. 
Courtney sighs for a moment. “But… there’s still something on my mind,”
“Hm?”
“You know when Michael was in the cabin with us, and she warned us about MC? What do you think she meant?”
Bonnie thinks for a moment. “Well, it definitely couldn’t have been anything too serious, right? Look at the guy, he’s like a puppy,”
“I know, it’s just… I keep going over why she would say something like that. Is she trying to throw us off?”
“I don’t know, Courtney. Let’s just try to focus on staying in the game for now,”
---
“Anons, looks like one of you is finally going home!” Chris chuckles, the marshmallow platter in his hands. “In case you’ve forgotten, these are marshmallows- symbols of hope and safety. If you don’t get one, you have to walk the dock of shame, board the boat of losers, and never return. Ever! Ready?
First one goes to… Scruffy
Max,
Scary,
Kelly,
Michael!
Staci.”
The respective players catch their treats as Chris tosses them. Austin looks nervous from within the full-body cast he’d been set in. 
“Austin- you crashed hard. And Julia, you accidentally sabotaged your team out of petty spite. And yet…” he throws her a mallow. “You still have working legs, dude. Chef?”
Chef walks over, picking up Austin’s stiff body and carrying him to the docks. Kelly follows. 
“I’ll win for us, no matter what!” Kelly whispers. Austin says something back, but the cast covers his mouth and garbles his words. 
They manage to give him one last kiss over the bandages before the boat speeds off. 
---
Michael looks through the cabin window as Scruffy and Julia walk by, laughing. Both team buildings have been left completely abandoned as everyone flits about with their friends, enjoying the warm night- except for Michael.
Courtney and Bonnie are painting each other’s nails at a picnic table across the grassy knoll, Kelly is making macramé with Staci in the crafts tent, and Scary has been nowhere to be found for hours. 
She sighs, standing away from the window just in time to hear a knock at the door. Michael raises an eyebrow, and then cautiously approaches to open it. McLovin is standing outside on the porch, hands behind his back and a slightly apologetic look on his face. 
“Great. What?” she asks, crossing her arms. 
He points up to his head, where still several wads of gum are stuck. 
“Seriously?”
“Courtney and Bonnie are busy,” he insists. “And I don’t know who else…”
Michael thinks for a moment, sighs, and then holds the door open a little wider for him to come inside. He takes a seat on the floor after she moves the rug, and she pulls a pair of scissors out of one of the nightstand drawers, walking over to kneel above him. 
Michael delicately cuts away the gum, dropping it on the floor behind her until most of it is gone, save for a few sensitive spots she wouldn’t try for. McLovin’s hair is now patchy and choppy, but still there. 
He stands up, mutters a quick thank you, and hurries to the door. 
“Don’t think this changes anything,” Michael says, picking up the gum and dumping it in the room’s garbage bin. “I still hate you.”
McLovin frowns. “Likewise,” and then he leaves, slamming the screen door behind him. 
Max watches as McLovin hurries out of the girl's side of the cabins with a perplexed expression. He'd been sitting on the porch steps by himself for almost an hour now and couldn't remember any of his teammates going inside.
He thinks to himself for a moment before standing and ducking over to the window, peering inside to see a slightly-dejected looking Michael pull the rug back to its place and sit on the bed with a sigh.
Somewhere off in the distance, Julia and Staci scream in argument over the last communal bathroom stall with a working lock. Michael's head turns in that direction and Max ducks away, hoping she hadn't seen him. He dashes off with a confused look on his face.
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