#I came back from a hike with my friend and I’m covered in like 12 mosquito bites UGHHHGGHH

[puppyeared]

Doodles I really like

[greymoonfeelings]

Merry Christmas, Ya filthy animal!

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1

pairing: Stephen Holder x Fem! Reader

word count: 1k

summary: Holder forgets it’s Christmas day until someone reminds him, luckily he’s got an understanding girlfriend.

warnings: smoking and food mention

note: First post of this collection! I don’t love it, but it turned out kinda cute. Not very edited so beware. I was going to post them consecutively but now I’ve decided to post them as they’re finished.

~~~

Holder’s head slumps against his desk as he sighs for the 3rd time in the past minute. He’d spent the past two days working on a case with no reprieve and now his brain felt like mush.

He pulls a carton of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, picks a random one, and puts it between his lips before lighting it. He relaxes back in his chair as he exhales a puff of smoke.

“Holder, for the hundredth time, you can’t smoke in here!” A booming voice shouts from the doorway.

Holder casually spins around in his chair to face his lieutenant. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke right into his boss’s face, just to annoy him.

“What the hell are you still doing here anyway? It’s 1 am on Christmas day, don’t you have someone waiting at home for you?”

The mention of Christmas causes an alarm inside Holder’s head to sound.

“Shit, I forgot that was today. My girl’s gonna be pissed.” Holder rushes to put out his cigarette in his ashtray before standing up.

“Get outta here now and maybe she won’t tear you a new one.”

“Thanks, Lieu.” Holder claps his boss on the back as he rushes out of the precinct.

The roads are clear considering the fact that it’s early morning on Christmas day. Luckily for Holder, this means he makes it back to your shared apartment in no time.

He quickly pulls into his spot in the parking lot, barely taking the keys out of the ignition before slamming the door and sprinting towards the building. He jogs inside, opting for the stairs instead of the elevator to avoid wasting time.

When he finally reaches your apartment, he’s out of breath. He shoves his key in the door, twists the handle, and flings the door open and closed like a madman.

Holder stands there huffing, looking around at all the festive changes you’d made to the place since the last time he’d been home.

You’d put up a small white tree in the corner of the living room, decorated with red lights, an assortment of colored ornaments, and a large star topper.

Finally, he spots you in the kitchen hunched over the open oven. He can see that you’ve set the small dining table up as if it were from a fancy restaurant, complete with your proclaimed “good dishes” and some nicely lit candles.

“Hey, Stephen.” You turn to face him with a sweet smile and a tone to match it. “You’re home earlier than I thought. The lasagna won’t be ready for another 30 minutes.”

“You ain’t mad that I’m late?” Stephen eyes you suspiciously as he walks further into the apartment.

“You’ve been at work a lot lately for your new case. I figured you’d forget about something as little as Christmas.” You take off your oven mitts and toss them on the counter.

“Sorry, I’m the world’s trashiest boyfriend.” Holder apologizes as he kicks off his snow-covered boots.

“Seriously, babe, it’s fine.” You reassure him as he approaches you.

“For real? You’re not even a tiny bit mad?” He looks at you, still doubtful.

“If anything I’m mad you’re earlier than I planned for. I didn’t even have time to change into my new dress.”

“I could go back in the hallway.” Holder hikes his thumb over his shoulder, motioning to the door. “Do this whole thing all over again.”

“Just sit on the couch, watch some tv and pretend I had the dress on when you came in.”

You usher hum towards the couch before scurrying down the hallway towards your bedroom to get ready. Once inside, you grab your new outfit from the closet.

You went shopping with your friends while your boyfriend was working so you could surprise him on Christmas. Your figure looked great in the red dress your friends had picked out for you and you knew he’d love it.

You fix your hair and put in your pearl earrings before walking back to the living room where Stephen waited.

“If the parents don’t believe in Santa, who do they think leaves the goddamn presents? They never explain that shit.” You hear him talk to himself.

“Why do you watch those movies when you know the plot holes piss you off?” You laugh at your dramatic boyfriend.

“‘Cause Home Alone wasn’t on yet.” Holder finally turns his head to look at you rather than the tv.

When he sees you standing there in the new dress his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“Damn shorty, you lookin fine as hell.”

“Fine as hell? That’s all I get.” You joke, walking closer to him.

“C’mon girl, you know I think you’re the most gorgeous woman to have ever graced this grey earth.” Holder motions for you to take a seat on his lap.

You sit on one of his knees, leaning into his touch as he wraps an arm around your waist and you wrap yours around his neck.

“So you like the dress?” You beam.

“I’d like it better if it was in a pile on the floor.”

“Stephen!” You playfully slap his chest.

“Can you blame me? You look like a goddess in that thing. I feel like an idiot over here lookin like street trash.”

“Hey, I happen to like the way you dress. It’s dorky and you look cute.”

“Dorky?” Your boyfriend looks up at you pretending to be hurt.

“Yeah, you got your baggy jeans and your big hoodies that go down to my knees. If I thought you looked like street trash, I wouldn’t have dated you this long.”

“Oh thanks, baby.” He rolls his eyes.

“You know I’m kidding, I love you no matter what you’re wearing. You could wear a potato sack and I would still be stupid in love with you.”

“The kind of stupid who makes lasagna at 2 am because her boyfriend can’t remember holidays?”

“The kind of stupid who makes lasagna at 2 am because she knows how dedicated her boyfriend is to his job and that he’s helping people so yeah he forgets about some things.”

“Wow, you really are in love with me huh?” Your boyfriend smirks up at you.

“Absolutely whipped.” You lean down to kiss his lips right as the timer goes off for the dinner.

[athenasbloodyspear]

Don’t Make Me Beg Now Baby

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

Hello fellow Greta Van Freaks. This is my very first Greta fic! I hope you enjoy.

MASTERLIST

Note: This fic contains mature themes, discussions of past non-con (no members of GVF involved) and drug use. Minors DNI. 18+ only and please take care of yourselves. (See Ao3 for full tag list)

You can also read this fic on Ao3 if you prefer!

Jake Kiszka x Original Female Character

Picture this: The boys are in Northern Michigan to write the new album and they meet a wild young woman who works at a local record store who has a rough history with rock bands.

She doesn’t want to fall into the same traps she fell into before. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

The rest of them just want them to figure their shit out.

Note: While this fic is based on the members of Greta Van Fleet, I obviously do not know them personally (lol) and nearly 99% of this is a fever dream I decided to write down. Some tid bits are based on things said in interviews/photos/songs but please do not come for my neck if you dislike my portrayals as this is a STORY that I have entirely made up.

This will be a slow burn, overly dramatic, cliché fest of me missing my Mitten State and wishing more than anything I could move back home. Their music makes me homesick and for that I’ll never forgive them. ;)

Chapter Under the Cut

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

The tiny bell on the door to “The Edge” clanked as Jake pushed his way in, followed by Josh, Sam and Danny. The afternoon sun streamed through the slats in the windows at a harsh angle, illuminating the swirling dust. The boys all immediately took a deep breath. They all loved the smell of this place. A mix of dusty old vinyl's, incense and weed. 

The Edge was the shop owned by an old friend, Levi, who had been a longtime family friend of the Kiszka’s. The boys had made the near three hour drive to the shop whenever they had a spare weekend in their younger years. They bought Levi out of his guitar strings and drumsticks and always looked through the boxes of vinyl's hoping to find treasures. Levi sold an eclectic mix of music equipment, records, books, home goods and comically horrific coffee. 

The Edge is where they had each bought their very first instruments, had their first beers and even smoked their first joint. It was a special place for them. 

The old wood floors creaked with every step, the wood walls were covered with old articles from Rolling Stone, photos Levi had taken and autographs from the artists who had cycled through the place over the years. There were stacks upon stacks of vinyl's. Shelves of old autobiographies and music theory books. There were speakers stacked from floor to ceiling, and the whole right side of the store was jam packed with basses and guitars. The back corner had a few keyboards and a drum set, but plenty of catalogues to pick even more instruments from. There were cases of drumsticks and guitar picks and strings. The middle of the store had tables full of incense, candles and interesting home goods. There were tables where local artists sold jewelry, art pieces and furniture. It was full to the brim, most shelves rising way up to the ceiling. Most needed a ladder to reach the top. The basement had a sound studio with even more equipment set up to be used to record, or to test out. 

Levi had inherited the place from his father, who had built up quite a legendary roster of friends over his years. The shop was just off Front Street on the main drag of Traverse City. Levi’s father had made a name for himself as a great host to bands looking to escape to northern Michigan to hole up in cabins and write albums. Levi continued the tradition and took it a step further by buying the space next door and turning it into a club with live music on the weekends. 

If you were lucky, you could catch some super huge bands playing for only about 100 people in the dark side room of The Edge. 

“You bastards finally made it!” Levi called out as he came sauntering out of the back room. Levi looked the exact same as the last time the boys had seen him. Tanned skin from his days paddle boarding and hiking along the Lake Michigan shore, sandy blonde hair that was brighter in the summer, perpetual 5-o-clock shadow because he just couldn’t be bothered to shave, shell necklace around his neck, light wash jeans low on his hips with the same old cowboy boots he’d been wearing since the boys were 12. 

“Is that grey hair I see Levi?” Josh leaned forward with an exaggerated squint. Levi laughed, snagging Josh’s head to give him a noogie. 

“I may be older than you punks by a few years, but I’m not greying yet.” Levi released Josh from his headlock and gave him a shove. 

“I’d say 37 is more than a few years older than us, grandpa.” Sam snarked. 

“You’re makin me regret extending my hospitality, kid.” 

Jake felt himself relax fully for the first time in a really long time. It was just like old times. Exactly what the boys needed. 

“Welcome back dudes. I’m surprised I’m still cool enough for you Rockstar types.” Levi crossed his legs and leaned back against the front counter. 

“We’ll never be too cool for The Edge. This place will always be way cooler than we could ever be.” Danny piped up, walking forward to wrap Levi in a hug. 

“It’s been too long man.” Levi commented as he smacked Danny on the back. 

“We know.” Sam said “Way too fuckin long.” He hugged Levi next. Josh and Jake followed up with hugs next. The room was heavy with a tinge of melancholy. Old friends who had missed each other finally reunited. 

“Well, have you guys been to the house yet?” Levi stepped around the counter and started pouring four cups of the famous nasty coffee. 

“Yeah we dropped our bags off before we headed into town.” Danny spoke up. 

“Isn’t it sweet?” Levi asked enthusiastically. 

“It’s wicked man. Thanks so much for getting that set up for us.” Josh grinned as he snagged a cup off the counter. 

The house was a mid century modern cabin right on the east bay shore. It came equipped with a huge garage studio, front deck and a dock out into the bay. Levi had bought the house in foreclosure and along with help from a bunch of locals (in exchange for beer of course) they turned the house into a perfect getaway for any artists looking to come take a break up north. The place had five bedrooms and three bathrooms with a giant living room with overstuffed couches and velvet chairs. The walls were covered in art and the shelves were full to bursting with plants. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and textures,  with mix matched rugs and lamps. It was Levi’s pride and joy. 

“I’m so glad you guys like it.” Levi smiled even bigger as he passed coffees to the rest of the boys. “Once you’re a little more settled, feel free to send me a list of equipment you want me to set up downstairs and you can start coming in whenever to work. But also, I think you should probably take a week or two off first. You all look about two seconds away from collapsing.” 

“Yeah we’re pretty fuckin beat dude. But we’ll send you a list ASAP.” Jake said, taking a burning sip of the coffee. It singed his nerve endings and he couldn’t have been happier about it. 

Levi opened his mouth to speak again, when a voice filtered through the window to the loft above the store. 

“Yo Levi!” the person shouted “Can you please get off your fuckin ass and pick music to play? I know Wednesdays are your day to pick but if you take forever I’m just gonna put on whatever I want and you can suck it.”

All four boys' heads snapped up to the window to the loft, but whoever was up there couldn’t be seen. All they could see was that the loft had clearly gotten a makeover. What used to be an upper level where Levi stored surplus supplies now looked like it had a plush velvet couch, lava lamps and plants in it. 

“Alright alright! I’ll get on it.” Levi called back up, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he walked toward the central sound system behind the counter to scroll through Spotify playlists. 

“Who the fuck is that and what have you done to the loft?” Josh asked, hopping up to sit on the counter. 

“That would be the very best thing that’s ever fallen into my lap. A.k.a my new store and venue manager Maven. She moved back to the area after living in Hollywood for a few years managing bands and she completely changed my life. We finally have consistent stock, a longstanding line up at the club and I have had the time to start photography again. Truly a godsend, if not occasionally a pain in my ass. She turned the loft into a breakroom of sorts.  There’s a couch and table up there now. She practically lives up there sometimes.” 

“Damn she must be some woman if she finally got you to get your shit together with that club.” Sammy piped up. 

“She’s hellfire, I’ll tell yah that.” Levi chuckled, finally hitting play on a playlist. The first bars of Surfin USA by the Beach Boys came on the surround system and matching groans came out of Jake downstairs and Maven upstairs. 

“Not this shit again!” Maven yells. Jake chuckled to himself. Hellfire indeed. 

“It’s my day to pick so suck it!” Levi called back before faux stage whispering to the boys “I mostly just play this to piss her off.”

Levi clapped his hands together once “Well boys, It’s close enough to five o'clock and I owe you a beer. Let’s head over to Little Fleet for some grub and beers and we can catch up.” 

Josh grimaced as he sucked down the last bit of his coffee before lobbing the empty cup into the trash at the end of the counter. “You still make shit coffee Levi.” 

“It’s the one thing I wouldn’t let Maven fix.” Levi said with a grin as all five men exited out the back door. 

                                                           ~0~

The boys took a week to relax, as per Levi’s request. They spent the days hiking the shore, kayaking and drinking beer around the fire. It had been way too long since they’d done this. The release of The Battle at Garden’s Gate had been exhilarating and the fans' response had been everything they’d hoped for. People seemed to love the album and they were all so proud. But with press interviews and touring, they hadn’t gotten more than a day or two to relax at a time. And they certainly hadn’t gotten a chance to get back to their favorite old haunts in years. 

They stopped by the store almost every morning for a cup of coffee strong enough to jumpstart their hearts. Sometimes Levi joined them on their escapades, and sometimes he stayed behind to help out at the store. The boys spent a few afternoons sifting through albums and strumming on some of Levi’s vintage guitars. 

Mostly they caught up on each other's lives. The boys recounted their more personal lives that happened outside the coverage of the album and Levi talked about the past few years of his life in Traverse City. Levi told them all about Maven and how she was practically his little sister. They laughed. They drank. They had a blast. 

The boys noticed Levi was a little on edge occasionally, typically when they heard someone shuffling upstairs or equipment moving around in the backroom of the shop. They assumed it was Maven but weren’t sure, since they had yet to see her in the flesh. A week from their arrival they were all sitting in lawn chairs in the alley behind the store, smoking cigs and drinking their coffee when Sam finally asked. 

“So, why haven’t we met your precious Maven yet? Hiding her from us or something?” 

Levi shifted a bit in his chair. “Um..” he coughed out a laugh. “I am actually. Yes. But it’s the other way around, I’m hiding you from her.” 

“Afraid she’ll fan-girl or something?” Josh commented as he ashed his cigarette.  

“In… a sense.” Levi coughed. “But in quite the opposite way you’re imagining.” 

“She’s a fan then?” Sammy piped up.

“She loves your music. A lot.” Levi sniffed and coughed again. “It’s a real safe haven for her. When she’s having a bad day I catch her upstairs laying on the floor smoking a J with sound cancelling headphones blasting your albums as loud as she can.” 

“Exactly how it’s meant to be enjoyed. With a joint in hand.” Jake chimes in.  

“Yeah..” Levi toes the asphalt a bit with his boots, but doesn’t continue.

“Soooo” Sammy drawls “Why can’t we meet her? We’re no stranger to super fans. I’m sure she’s cool.” 

“Um, well. It’s a bit complicated.” Levi heaves a sigh before flicking his cigarette butt into the coffee canister at the center of their little circle. “I suppose I can trust you guys. You’re friends. Do you remember the huge lawsuit that the band Undercover Heart went through last year? The one about the um” He coughs again, “Rape of one of their staff members by the lead singer Ryan?” 

“Yes. That shit was horrific man.” Danny spoke up. “I read all the details I could. They kept the poor girl's identity private but goddamn I felt so bad for her. She was a badass for filing that suit though.” 

“Yeah. She was.” Levi breathed. “So, this is strictly off record and if you repeat this to anyone I will skin you all alive, famous rock stars be damned.” 

“Jesus Levi.” Jake said. 

“It was her.” Levi choked out. “Maven. That’s why she ran back from Hollywood and ended up here. That dude messed her up and she just… she struggles with meeting famous bands now. You know how many people cycle through this joint writing stuff. She just… has a really fuckin hard time with it sometimes. Particularly bands she likes. I think it’s because once you meet someone, and in her case, discover how much of a monster they can be, their music isn’t… safe anymore.” 

“Fuck.” Jake said, flicking his cigarette into the canister. 

“Well I feel terrible for joking about her being a fangirl.” Josh mutters. 

“She just genuinely loves you guys a lot. I never really told her I was an old friend because I didn’t want her to be worried about y’all stopping by. I just know that if she knows you’re here she’ll take off and avoid coming by the shop as much as she can and not only do I need her here, but I think she needs the safety of the shop too. I didn’t want to wreck it.” Levi sighs again. “I know she’ll find out you’re here eventually, it’s inevitable. I just was a coward and didn’t want to break the news to her.” 

“She was a pretty well known band manager wasn’t she?” Danny asks. “She like… completely made Undercover Heart what it was. Before they hired her they were slated to be a one hit wonder but she hauled them into relevancy basically by her will alone.” 

“Yeah. She basically built that man's career for him. She gave him everything, and he took everything from her. If I ever see the man I’m liable to get my ass thrown in prison.” Levi mutters.

“I’ll help.” Danny says immediately. 

All five sit in silence for a few minutes, smoking the last of their cigarettes. When they’d all finished, they stood and stretched to head back inside the shop. 

“So yeah. Anyway, If you see her that’s fine, just… well now you have context for… her.” Levi says as he yanks open the door. 

A few steps into the back hallway, Levi suddenly halts, causing all four boys to nearly bash into each other. The front door to the shop had crashed open and there were footsteps stomping across the store toward the front desk. 

“Listen Levi,” Maven’s tense voice carried down the back hall. “I know Wednesdays are usually your day for music but I’m having an absolute shit fucking day so I’m playing Greta all day and there’s absolutely nothing you can fucking do about it, kapeesh?” 

The very opening chords of Edge of Darkness scratch through the speakers after she finishes her sentence and the boys all exchange a slightly amused look, grins spread on all of their faces. 

“Kapeesh.” Levi calls out to her. He spins and silently nods to the boys to head toward the back door. The boys attempt to be as quiet as they can as they creep toward the door. 

“Also, Levi?” Maven calls again. Everyone halts in their tracks. “You said there was a band coming in soon. Are they here yet? Do you need me to set up the backroom?” 

“Uh, yeah they’re here.” Levi squeaks. All five men share nervous looks. “They’re uh… up at the house.” He cringes at his lie. “I’m getting an equipment list from them today and then you can get started. 

“Cool cool.” Maven calls back. “Do you think I’ll like their stuff?” 

“Uh. Yeah.” Levi grins then. “I think you will.” 

“Wicked.” Maven calls back. 

All five men repress giggles as they skedaddle out the back door and into the alley. 

                                                        ~0~

The next morning the boys wake up to a group text from Levi. 

COME BY THE SHOP ASAP. COME IN BACK DOOR. HEAD DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE BOOTH. BE AS QUIET AS YOU CAN. 

A weird request, but they did as they were told. They all piled into the SUV they had rented and headed to the shop. Danny peeled open the back door as quietly as he could, and Sammy opened the door to the stairs. They tiptoed down and through the door at the end of the stairs that opened into the booth of a sound studio. Levi sat in front of all the mixing boards with a cup of coffee to his lips. He glanced over at them and softly said “coffees on the table.” 

“Why the weird text?” Jake asked. 

“Because of that.” Levi responded softly, pointing through the dark glass into the soundstage. 

The sound stage was littered with mismatched rugs, and a few milk crates that doubled as tables. There was a gorgeous seafoam green drum set toward the back wall and stands full of various guitars and basses. Along the left wall was a piano and a Mellotron set up exactly to the specifications Sam sent over. However, with all these beautiful instruments to look at that would normally catch their eye, it was the woman sitting on stool in the center, cradling a dark purple Fender guitar that made Jake stop in his tracks. 

Maven, Jake had to guess that’s who it was, was wearing checkered distressed pants, with a ripped up old band t-shirt cropped at her ribs, revealing a sliver of the rounded part of her stomach. Over top she was wearing an orange leopard print cardigan that ran down to her thighs. Around her neck was a series of long necklaces, and her wrists were adorned with interlacing leather bands. 

She was plucking out a melody with her eyes closed, rocking back and forth on the stool. Jake had seen countless numbers of people playing the guitar before. On the road, in the studio, studying old masters on YouTube. There was nothing overly special about the way she was sitting or playing, but he felt a little bit like he couldn’t breathe. 

“She never fuckin plays anymore man.” Levi whispered. “It felt like magic hearing music coming out of the basement this morning. I just felt like you should see it.” 

The melody she was playing was sad. Haunting is a better way to put it, and Jake couldn’t look away. Not even when Sammy placed a cup of burning hot coffee into his hands. She was moving her head along with her playing, the strands of her dark messy hair shaking back and forth. The group watched in silence as she played out the riff a few times, Levi cranked the volume of the mics in the space and they could hear her humming softly. 

“She has a strong presence.” Josh murmured. 

Maven suddenly stopped. Everyone froze as she heaved a sigh and stood from the stool to put the guitar back on it’s rack. 

“You in there Levi?” Maven said then. The boys still didn’t move a muscle. Jake’s head was spinning, having finally seen the face that went with the voice he’d heard in the loft for a week. She was beautiful. He couldn’t even really put his finger on why, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even seeing her through the thick dark glass of the studio. 

Levi hit the button to the mic in the booth and responded “Yah.” He paused before adding. “Sounded good.” 

Maven snorted in a self-deprecating way and said “Thanks.” 

Levi hit the mic button again and said “You should play more.”

“Don’t push it Levi.” Maven snapped back. Levi released the button to his mic and let out a heavy sigh. “Can you check some levels on the lines for me? I think I have everything pretty good but I want to make sure before they get here today.” 

“Sure.” Levi replied. 

Maven pulled the amp cord out of the Fender she had been playing on and plugged it into another guitar, one more similar to the guitars that Jake regularly used while they wrote. 

“Are we looking for a punk or a rock-y sound?” Maven asked. 

“Um.” Levi hesitated. “Rock. Their sound is like…” He tossed a small smile over his shoulder at the boys. “Like Greta’s actually.” 

“Dope. I hope they’re not just copying the boys. They’ve got a mellotron in here and everything.” The boys smiled. She pounded out a few chords on the guitar. “Good?” 

Levi looked over at Jake for confirmation. Jake, who still had not taken his eyes off Maven, nodded. 

“Yeah, that should be good for raw sound. They can play with stuff too. They’re a pretty well educated bunch.” Levi called back.

“Thank god.” Maven snorted. “Not like that indie punk bunch you booked last month who needed me to do fucking all their sound mixing for them.” 

“Maven, I don’t think they kept asking you down here because they need help with their sound.” 

Maven just rolled her eyes at that.  

They repeated the process with each instrument, Levi silently asking for confirmation from the respective Greta member until they were sure the sound lines were all functioning properly. 

“Great work kid.” Levi called into the studio. 

“Ew don’t call me kid. I’m a 27 year old woman.” Maven called back. 

Levi chuckled. “You’re a kid to me.” 

“Whatever.” Maven muttered. “I’m gonna go take a walk along the beach. Smoke a little. Text me if they need me.” 

“Will do.” Levi called back. The boys all tensed, looking for places to hide, or to run up the stairs and back into the alley. Luckily, Maven took the back door out of the studio and up another hallway instead.

“Well boys, it’s all you.” Levi said. “Text if you need anything.” 

Sam piped up and said “Yeah actually, can you pick my brother’s jaw up off the floor?” 

“Jake see pretty lady play guitar and Jake brain break.” Josh teased. 

“You guys suck.” Jake grumbled. 

Levi cackled. “I thought you’d like her.”  

                                                        ~0~

Maven walked along the coast of the bay and absentmindedly smoked a joint. It was an overcast and drizzly day which meant there was no one around, which she preferred anyway. She was feeling on edge. The drizzle was very slowly building a small sheen of water on her arms and hair, but she didn’t mind. The cool water and gentle breeze combination was perfect. 

Maven sat her butt down in the sand and stared out at the waves. She normally wore headphones on her walks, her world was a near constant stream of music, but she had opted for silence today. 

Levi was being weird. He was edgy around her all week, sending her out every morning for tasks and disappearing without saying where he was going around 4:30 every day. She had come to the conclusion that whatever band was in town this week was a pretty big name. Or big enough that he was nervous about her being around them. She sighed. She hated when he tiptoed around her. Maven didn’t blame him. When she first started working at the shop she had had a couple pretty bad PTSD episodes that had scared the shit out of him. She owed him everything for staying with her, talking her down and making sure she was fed and had water when she got into one of her states. 

Levi was her best friend, to put it mildly. He cared for her, kept her safe and in return she busted her ass at his store making sure they had the best products, the best shows and that their artist getaway was something that people would go back and tell their friends about. She loved Levi like an older brother, and he cared for her like his little sister. She would forever be grateful to whatever power in the universe made her stumble into The Edge two years ago. 

She had been high out of her mind, as she had been most days after she came running back to Michigan with her tail between  her legs, and Levi had been struggling with an amp in the shop. She had walked in, spotted his struggle and didn’t even say a word to him, just walked over and fixed the wiring so that it was functional again. Levi had looked up from where he sat on the floor and said “You don’t happen to need a job do you?” 

The rest was essentially history. It only took two months of seeing him every single day, and him not letting her sour moods go by unnoticed, for her to spill her guts over some bourbon one night. About Ryan and Undercover Heart and how badly the whole situation fucked her up. How after she’d recorded her testimony she’d boarded the next flight to Grand Rapids and hightailed it up north. She came crash landing into Traverse City because she’d always loved it as a kid, and figured it would be a great place to start over. The small town she’d grown up in had too many people who knew her. 

He was extra careful with bands for a while. Never letting her be alone in a room with too many male band members, and carefully vetting everyone who came through. Eventually she told him off about treating her like a porcelain doll and he backed down a bit, giving her free reign over lots of the equipment set ups and giving her plenty of hours in the shop by herself. She was happy to do so, so Levi could focus on fixing up the artist house and starting his photography again. 

But he was still very gentle with her sometimes, and she’d always love him for it even when it pissed her the fuck off. 

Once she’d smoked the joint down to the roach, she tucked the end into her pocket. It was sacrilegious to litter near the lake. It was too precious to be fucked with. She meandered back toward the shop. Her plan was to grab her bag and head back to let her Pitbull, Stacy, out for a walk and pee. The girl had been cooped up all morning and Maven felt bad. 

She threw her whole body against the front door, as the latch often stuck, and the loud sound of the chimes clanged in the empty space. She rolled her eyes. Of course Levi left the shop unattended and unlocked. It was Traverse City, no one was gonna rob them, but what if someone wanted to buy something? 

She was humming softly to herself as she made her way around the edge of the counter and plopped down on the stool by the register. She whipped out her phone to ask Levi where he was. She had the message halfway typed when the door behind her, the one that led to the staff restroom, popped open. 

“You know, crime is especially low in this town but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t come in here and try to steal your precious coffee maker.” She tossed over her shoulder. 

“Oh.” Was all that came back. It was decidedly not Levi’s voice. Maven spun back quickly. 

“Sorry I…” But that’s as far as she got. She was suddenly face to face with Jake Kizska and all thoughts quickly left her brain. 

They both stared at each other for a long moment. Maven couldn’t quite figure out why he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He also almost looked afraid for some reason that Maven couldn’t figure out.

He was dressed in an outfit she’d seen him wear plenty of times. A black button up, half unbuttoned, loose fitting light wash jeans and a pair of well worn boots. His wrists were full of bracelets and his hair was longer than the last time she’d seen footage of their concerts, well past his collarbones at this point. 

“Hi.” Jake finally broke the silence. “I’m Jake.” He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“I know.” Maven replied, and then coughed. Why did you say that you freak? 

Suddenly the front door bell chimed again, and Maven whipped her head to see Levi coming in the front door. She stood abruptly from her stool, skirted around Jake’s outstretched hand, and out from behind the counter. She scooped up her leather satchel on her way. 

She headed straight at Levi. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an apologetic Jake looking forlorn and lowering his hand back to his side. 

“Oh hey Maven-” 

“Hey dumbass, don’t leave the store unattended again. I’m going home to check on Stacy. Probably won’t be back for the rest of the day.” Maven spit as she stormed past him toward the front door. 

“Maven wait-” 

But she was already outside, the hinges bringing the heavy wood crashing back into the frame. The chime of the bells rang through the space. 

“Sorry.” Jake muttered. 

“Not your fault. I knew she’d find out eventually. Right now she’s probably just pissed I didn’t tell her. Which she has every right to be.” Levi sighed. 

After a few more beats of silence Jake spoke again. “Who’s Stacy?” 

Levi huffed a laugh. “That would be her Pitbull.” 

“Oh.” Jake said again. He felt crazy because his brain couldn’t come up with anything else to say. She was prettier up close. She smelled like the Lake and weed and sandalwood. He really wished she’d taken his hand. He shook his head trying to find his brain in it somewhere. 

The other three boys came clambering up the stairs and into the store. They all looked between Levi, who was still standing in the middle of the shop, and Jake behind the counter. 

“Are you two playing freeze tag or something?” Sam quipped. 

“Jake met Maven.” Levi responded. The boys' heads whipped toward Jake. 

“And… I’m guessing it… went well?” Danny questioned.

Levi finally walked back toward the counter. “She left for the day. This is on me. I should have told her y’all were here.” He snagged his keys from below the counter and walked toward the front door to lock up. “I’m closing early, boys. Let’s go get a beer.” 

“Kowabunga baby.” Josh said with a grin.  

                                                     ~0~

Maven sat curled up on her velvet couch, Stacy was her little spoon. There was incense burning, a bottle of wine open on the side table and a lit joint in the ashtray. She had changed into a giant t-shirt and boxer shorts. The soft sounds of John Denver playing off her record player. 

However, none of these things were easing her mind. 

She was pissed, mostly. At herself. At Levi. She was pissed he didn’t tell her they were coming. She was pissed that he felt he couldn’t tell her. She was pissed that she had acted like a freak in front of Jake. 

The anxiety was an endless pit in her stomach. She couldn’t go back there tomorrow. She couldn’t see any of those people. Not when she felt like this. 

She whipped out her phone and quickly shot a message to Levi, before chugging her whole glass of red wine and snagging the joint out of the ashtray. 

                                                        ~0~

Levi’s phone dinged on the table where all of the guys sat drinking beers and chatting. Levi glanced at it and quickly picked it up when he saw her name. 

“It’s Maven.” He said. 

“What did she say?” Jake asked, sitting up a bit in his chair. 

“Fuck.” Levi said, tossing his phone on the table, still unlocked. 

All four boys leaned in to read the screen. 

CASHING IN ALL MY VACATION DAYS. I’LL BE OUT FOR TWO WEEKS. 

“Fuck indeed.” Josh said, pounding back the rest of his beer.

[jungwonenthusiast]

AHHH omg these prompts are really good, I sent in a request for Jungwoo literally one minute ago, but Yuta is testing me🙏 May I possibly request Yuta saying 12 + 1 + 16?😭 I'm imaging a whole video call situation going on, leading up to mutual masturbation🤤 Please feel free to choose only the Jungwoo request or only this one! I'll be perfectly content with any, thank you to the moon and back🥺✨

hi!! tysm for ur request! sorry that this ended up being so long lol but i hope u enjoy it <3

You haven’t seen Yuta in what feels like years but it’s only been two months. You were doing okay for the first few weeks but lately anytime you see a picture of him or hear his voice you start to feel tingly all over. There've been so many instances of you laying in bed late at night, contemplating calling him and telling him how needy you’ve been but you always get too embarrassed to try. But tonight was the last straw. The music video for “gimme gimme” just came out and you’re laying under your duvet watching it. You smile, feeling so proud of your friends and loving how gorgeous they all looked in the video. But of course, Yuta catches your eye. His hair is dark, dark blue and hanging over his forehead. He looks fucking incredible in that white button down and harness. You rewind all of his scenes at least three time, feeling only a little but embarrassed every time you do. After fangirling a bit on how handsome your boyfriend is, you text all of the members to congratulate them. Then you call Yuta, you figure it’d be a bit rude to just text him. Plus it wouldn't hurt to see his pretty face while you're at it.

“Hi my love,” he greets you warmly and you smile. He’s sitting at his desk. His voice is a little gravelly and his hair is floppy, had woken up a little bit ago?

“Hi, the video was incredible.” you say, sitting up in your bed.

“I know right,” he says and you chuckle. “what have you been up to?”

“Missing you,” you sigh.

“I know darling,” he says, he looks so good right now. “I’ll see you soon though, only two more weeks.”

“I don’t think I can last.” you pout.

“I promise you can.” he assures you.

“I miss you,” you start and once you do, you can’t stop. “I miss you voice and your kisses and your hugs and your everything.”

“I wish I could crawl through my phone to be with you.” he says and you smile.

“We’re so corny,” you scrunch your nose and he laughs.

“We are.” he sighs and stretches, dropping his neck back, revealing smooth skin and his adam’s apple. A small moan comes out of his mouth and you blush, squeezing your thighs against each other.

“Are you alone?” you ask him quietly.

“Yeah,” he cocks and eyebrow. “why?”

“Nothing.” you try to cover for yourself but he sees right through you.

“No why?” he crosses his arms.

“Nothing,” you look away, how does he still manage to make you nervous over the phone. “I was just curious.”

“You know you’re a bad liar y/n.” he says. “Did you have a secret to tell me or something?”

The way he’s testing you is getting you hot. “No.”

“Oh come on,” he smiles. “you don’t ever have to hide anything from me, you know that right?”

“Yeah,” you admit, squeezing at your covers.

“Now what is it that you need?” he asks.

“You.” you say bluntly.

"Well, here I am." he says, playing dumb.

You know what you need to say, you're just embarrassed.

You swallow your pride. "I miss you. I need you to help me cum."

"There you go," he says. "did you call me just to get off on my voice?"

You cover your face with your hands, blushing. "Maybe."

"Naughty," he tsks. "Show me how much you miss me angel."

You look up at him with a questioning look on your face. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he taunts you and you can already feel how wet you’re getting. “put me out of my misery and spread those legs for me.”

You comply, eager for relief. You’re only wearing underwear beneath your hoodie, so it doesn’t take much effort to reveal yourself.

“Fuck.” he says under his breath. “You’re so wet. All from thinking about me?”

You nod pathetically, squirming under his piercing stare.

“What have you been thinking about sweetheart?” he says while unbuckling his belt. The sight makes your mouth water. “Tell me all about your fantasies.”

You know it’s better just to answer than to get all shy again. “I think about you touching me, fingering me...” your voice falls short.

“Mhm? What else?” he says. You can see his arm moving.

“Tasting me, fucking me,” your thighs start to shut at the thought of all of this.

“Keep your legs spread.” he says sternly and you listen.

You keep gripping at your hips, trying to resist touching yourself until he says so.

“Do you want to touch yourself?” he asks and you nod eagerly. He smiles. “Go ahead doll, show me how you like it.”

Your fingers trail down to your dripping pussy, collecting the slick on your fingers before rubbing your clit. A moan of relief escapes your mouth.

“Fuck,” he curses. “that pussy looks so good.”

“Can I go faster?” you ask him and he nods. You pick up the pace. Your sounds are starting to get loud.

“You sound so pretty darling,” Yuta says, infatuated with you. “Finger yourself for me.”

You push one finger in and give yourself a few pumps before adding another.

“Atta girl.” he says. “Imagine those fingers are mine, fucking you just right, hitting that spot.”

You whimper and roll your hips against your hand.

“Do that again.” he says, his eyes dark and full of lust.

You roll your hips again and your fingers brush against your gspot.

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Yuta leans back in his chair, displaying himself stroking his cock nice and slow.

You whimper at the sight.

He smirks. “Do you miss how hard I fuck you? How deep I fuck that pretty pussy?”

You nod, your eyes rolling back from imagining his every word.

“Get your vibrator out.” he orders and you listen, pulling the toy out from your nightstand. “Put in on low and just run it down your body,” he says “down your stomach, down your thighs, around your pussy.”

You writhe on your bed, not able to handle the teasing.

“Where do you want it angel?” he asks. His shirt is hiked up now and you can see his slim torso.

“On my clit.” you say. You want it so bad it almost hurts.

“Go ahead.” he says and you finally put it where you need it most. You let out a sultry whine. “That feels good doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you look at him through your lashes.

“Turn it higher,” he says and you click to toy into the next level. “don’t stop finger fucking yourself.”

Everything feels so good it nearly brings tears to your eyes. Your fingers going in and out of your pussy, the vibrator on your clit.

“I’m close Yuta.” you manage to say.

He’s pushed back his hair now and his head is occasionally falling back in pleasure. The view feels so crude but so good.

“I bet you are,” he says. “cum for me then.”

Your fingers start to pump faster, curling just the perfect amount.

“Come on,” he says. “I know you can do it. Be a good girl for me.”

His words send you over the edge. You let out a long whine in complete ecstasy, your pussy pulsing from all of the pleasure.

“Fuck,” he growls, his eyes focused on your gorgeous figure. “That’s my girl.” he says.

You finally come down from your high, breathing heavily.

“That felt good huh?” he says while taking his cum stained shirt off.

“Yeah,” you say. “I need you to come back.”

“I know,” he nods. “I’ll make all of the wait worth it.”

[wh6res]

hey love! im so happy requests are finally opened! i really love your writing and when i saw requests were opened, my heart jumped hehe, but may I please request aggressive 11, and 14 with xiaojun? thank you so much!!🥺❤️❤️

frat boys | xiaojun

synopsis. you never should've came to yangyang's party.

warnings. dubcon, betrayal

note. thank you my dear for loving my writing uwu

you’ve never been to a frat party. it was never your thing and no matter how tempting your bestfriend makes it sound, you swore to yourself to never indulge in such matters. but for someone so smart, it was rather stupid of you to think you’ll never attend a frat party when, first and foremost, your own bestfriend’s a member of a frat.

and unfortunately for you, he just had to celebrate his 22nd in his fraternity’s house. you felt annoyed that yangyang forego the usual arrangements where it’ll just be him, you, cupcakes, and beer when the clock strikes 12 o’clock. but it all changed this year when he said—”you don’t even need to give me a gift, sunshine! just… please attend the party? think of it as your gift to me? don’t worry i’ll be looking out for you and you can leave as soon as you feel uncomfy!”

you don’t expect him to stand by his word because this is yangyang we’re talking about. he’s a lightweight and you know he’d be shitfaced drunk halfway through the party because that’s just how he is. yangyang is the star of the night, the birthday boy, of course he’ll drink whatever alcohol his friends offer him. 

it’s been hours already since you’d last seen the boy, right after he put a show of chugging down one whole bottle of gin on top of a table and lucas having to catch yangyang’s swaying body toppling over the surface so he won’t wake up with a fractured arm the next day. 

2am. you’ll go home at 2am. 

so you simply wait another hour by the kitchen (its more quiet there) playing mario kart on your phone while chugging down some orange juice you found in the fridge. hopefully the host doesn’t mind, after all, you highly doubt they’d care for a bottle of orange juice when they have a plethora of alcoholic drinks sitting in ice coolers. 

“really? you’re drinking that in a frat party?”

the voice makes you look up just as you threw your head back to finish the remaining of the juice inside the plastic bottle. you raise an eyebrow when you see one of yangyang’s… frat mate? bestfriend? peer? you don’t know. but one thing’s for sure, he’s definitely a part of the friend group your bestfriend’s in—meaning, he’s a frat boy. 

and there’s only one frat boy you don’t hate and that’s yangyang—then again, it can be debatable sometimes. 

“so?” you reply sharply, not bothering to hide your annoyance of your peace being interrupted. you hear him stalking closer to you before placing something on the counter, next to your thighs. in the corner of your eyes, you see it's a drink—beer, most probably. 

you sneer, not bothering to look at him. “ah, no thank you. i don’t drink alcohol, especially not from strangers.”

“xiaojun, third year, majoring in film making, and thinks you’re kinda cute. there, i don’t think i’m a stranger anymore?”

you can practically hear the grin in his voice, as if his quirky little antics is going to take its effect on you like all the other girls he probably had tried it with. unfortunately for him, you’re far from easy and it’s 2am already. wordlessly, without another glance towards his direction, you tried walking out of the kitchen, wanting to see yangyang one last time before bolting out the door. 

keyword: tried. 

“so, where are you going?” xiaojun pesters. shadowing your footsteps as you aimlessly walk around the house, looking for the birthday boy. for such an ungodly hour, the party seems to be going on full swing and it probably won’t simmer down until after a couple more hours. 

perfect. you arrived unnoticed, and you will leave unnoticed. 

“oh!” you forget xiaojun is still towing behind you. “are you looking for yangyang? i know where he is!”

you force out a laugh, spinning around to face him. “i know what you’re doing. you’re trying to get me alone, aren’t you? do i fucking look easy to you?”

he seems genuinely surprised of your outburst. “woah, chill. he’s upstairs, babe. last door on the left side. we all know that boy’s a lightweight, so xuxi and the rest of the guys have dropped him there to sober him up.”

“i’m not buying it.”

“fine!” he throws his arm up in mock surrender. “i won’t follow you upstairs if that calms your nerves. your welcome, see you around—or whatever…”

you can’t help but scoff at his attitude. you never asked him to follow you around nor did you even ask for his help in finding liu yangyang but before you can say anything else, xiaojun has already stormed away, disappearing into the throng of people in the living room turned dance floor. you huffed, hiking your bag strap higher up your shoulders before marching up the stairs. 

it’s a lot quieter here compared to the party going on downstairs. the music significantly gets muted the further down you walk in the hallway, towards yangyang’s room. keeping in mind what xiaojun said about how they like throwing their friend in here to sober him up, you decided to skip knocking, barging into the room with a grin on your face. 

“hey, lightweight! i’m going… home?”

the room’s empty.

“i can’t believe you actually fell for it.”

you hardly had any time to turn around when you felt his hands pushing you further into the room, a resounding click of the lock can be heard as you try to pick yourself up from the cold tiled floor but it was no use when you felt a heel of a boot against your lower back, forcing you back to the ground. tears starts pricking your eyes but you try everything in your power to not let them fall. no. he can’t have that satisfaction. 

“it was really stupid of you, not gonna lie. but who cares, i get the girl i’ve been eyeing!”

you grunt aloud in frustration as you try squirming out of from under him but the pain of his boot’s heel digging into your flesh made you unconsciously cry out. why is this happening? why did it even have to happen to you?

in a span of seconds he had lifted you off the floor and has unceremoniously tossed you on the mattress, the blankets ruffling underneath your body. you tried crawling off but he was quick, wrapping a firm hand around your ankle before pulling you back to where he wanted you to be. 

“please!” you can’t believe you had resulted to begging but everything is bound to get blurry when the reality of the situation starts setting in and the fear overrules any type of dignity. “if you—if you let me go now, i won’t tell anybody not even yangyang, i swear! just—please—”

“oh, didn’t you know?” xiaojun just finds this way too fun. “yangyang made you come tonight, didn’t he? practically forced you to even when he knew you didn’t like parties?”

as he spoke, you tried sneakily wriggling out from under him until you stop dead in your tracks when his hands dart forward to wrap around your neck. xiaojun sighs as if he’s bored. but when you dare look straight at him, the excited glint in his eyes are unmistakable. 

when he leans down to whisper in your ear…

“i was the one who told yangyang to invite you.”

and then you screamed, trying to push him away with vigor because no your best friend would never sell you out like that. “you’re lying!” you sob. “yangyang would… he’d never do that to me! you’re lying!”

xiaojun rolls his eyes as he ducks down to attack your neck. the first you feel are his soft lips against the skin of your neck, then his hot tongue licking a stripe from your collarbone to the back of your ear before digging his teeth into your skin. you grunt aloud in pain. 

he clicks his tongue, glaring down at your messed up state. “if you’d stop making so much noise, i might not have to be so rough.”

you don’t know why, but his words make you cry harder, it’s as if he’s implying that all this shit you’re going through because of him is your own fault. and by the time he’s done marking your neck, you realize in horror—when xiaojun said ‘rough’ he had truly meant rough. 

a lone tear escapes your eye as you pull your shirt up higher to cover your neck, ignoring the feeling of his ministrations and feather-like touches against the insides of your thigh. but when he sees what you’re doing, xiaojun starts digging his nails into your flesh as a warning. 

“don’t cover my bite marks. if you do, i might have to add something more obvious.”

[stitch-n-time]

Can you explain how the US housing laws work? You have me interested

Short answer: they don’t.

Longer answer (because I have to work tonight and truly don’t have like 8 hours to write the thesis, because you bet your ass I could):

There is actually an internal structure that the low income housing system has been built around that makes it nearly impossible to navigate, difficult to get into, and specifically works against the people that it was supposedly built to help.

I’m actually not quite sure where to start with this, so it’s going to be all over the place and bouncing back and forth, but that’s also kind of on brand for the low income housing system.

The system as we know it is very much a post WWII thing, so the info here will be from after that point. A lot of this will be in kind of broad, sweeping terms. But since the US is like 60 different states in a trenchcoat trying to sneak into an R-rated movie, very little of it actually covers the entirety of the country. There are also state and city levels of bullshit that people have to wade through. Most people don’t make it.

I’m going to use my own experiences as an example. But know that my experiences are NOT typical. When I started down this rabbit hole, I was a 30-ish year old white woman, a part time student, presented as a professional female on a daily basis, had a fairly stable income from a job I had held for years, and a vehicle (though making payments). All of this put together meant I had it pretty easy.

Some of that caused problems, though. The vehicle was a problem. It was a newer model gently used vehicle. According to the dealership, the previous owner had traded it in because it was a manual transmission and they wanted an automatic. When I bought it, it had less than 60k miles on it and was in excellent condition. In the eyes of the people who approve the paperwork and rubber stamp applicants for low income housing, I could get rid of that vehicle, and the moneys spent on the payments and insurance could go toward housing. Which would be reasonable, except most of the US doesn’t have public transportation at all. What public transport does exist is sketchy, rarely runs on schedule, and often does not go into residential areas. I COULD have gotten rid of the car, but that would have meant a 2 mile hike to the nearest bus station, 4 hours on a bus to get to class and 5 hours on the return trip twice a week, then a 2 mile hike home OR a 2 mile hike to the nearest bus station, 4.5 hours on a bus, another 2 mile hike to get to work, and the same on the return. At that point, I would have been spending more time on the bus than either at work or school, and might as well just live on the damned thing, since all I would have time to do at home is shower and MAYBE eat a sandwich?

But that’s also typical. Part of the laws as they are written specifically state that a person or household can not own physical properties that are over a certain value, because those properties could be sold in order to elevate the person/family’s lifestyle. That also makes household absolutely reliant on public transportation, which is simply not available in many poor areas.

Which goes into redlining, and systemic racism, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

The fact that I was a student also worked against me. If a person can afford to go to school, they can afford housing. So why would you want/need help from the government? I’m just thankful that I was a part time student when the need for low income housing arose… If you’re a full time student, you are automatically denied on any application for low income housing. There are different legal designations for “low income housing” and “student housing”. They can not exist in the same housing complex for legal reasons. So if I had been taking one more class that semester, I would have been denied, and would have been homeless.

That in itself doesn’t sound terrible. And there’s reasons for the legal differences. But think about it… What if I had been in the last semester of school and something had happened? What about the people who are both enrolled in school and are working, trying to make ends meet, trying to be able to do something better, and either their lease is up or they get evicted or… I don’t know… their house burns down or a tornado hits or suddenly medical bills? If a person fills out that paperwork while still a student, even if they say “I’m graduating next month and want to move in the month after that” they still count as a full time student and would get denied. Which means leaving school and being spit out into the post graduate world probably without a job, while being denied help with keeping a roof over their head, when it’s absolutely necessary to have a physical address while searching for a job.

Which goes into the anti-homeless way of thinking, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

I’m going to lump the “fairly stable income from a job I had held for years” and “presented as a professional female on a daily basis” into one, because they are directly related. I had worked my way through a trade school, and had been working in the medical field for nearly 4 years. The practice was open 4 days a week. I was there 2 days, the male counterpoint was there the other 2 days. If a client preferred one of us over the other, either they scheduled appropriately, or the doctor asked us to come in for that client’s appointment time. Because a large portion of the clientele were middle aged and older, as well as conservative, the dress code reflected accordingly. Since I actually REALLY liked the job, and the doctor and his family were pretty awesome people, I dressed and styled accordingly, on a daily basis. But because the number of hours on the clock varied with the number of clients scheduled for therapy appointments, there were times when those paychecks got mighty thin. There were absolutely trends of busy seasons and light seasons. Sometimes during that light season there were days when I would go to work for a couple of hours, go home until about 3PM, then go back for 2 or 3 hours. It was hard to pin that down.

Having to explain that I could not pinpoint an amount of annual income with any accuracy while filling out the application worked against me. And just about anybody who works in retail, food service, etc. - all the jobs that people with low incomes tend to have – will tell you that they suffer the same thing. Go  into work, put in a couple of hours, and have the manager come tell you to go home because it’s not busy enough to justify having people on the clock. But without having an accurate estimation of annual income (that could be verified by their calling your employer) means that the application is denied. The general consensus is that if you can’t pinpoint your annual income, then you’re lieing on the application, which means you’re untrustworthy, and therefore don’t deserve to get the help you need to keep a roof over your head.

That conservative professional look helped me here, though. I went into the office dressed well, in khakis and a nice blouse, to fill out the application and speak to the people. While I was there, another lady came in to fill out an application. This is somebody who I happened to know personally. She was also a professional, who was arguably in a slightly better place than I was because her income did not fluctuate (though it was low, as she was recovering from a divorce and most of the family income had come from her ex husband), but she was “dressed down” in shorts and a t shirt. We made the same arguments. I ended up in an apartment, and she did not.

Honestly, I was actually lucky to get into an apartment. A lot of people don’t realize it, but even with things being classified as low income housing, it takes a LOT of money to get into places. Just like every other rental in the US, before you move in, you have to pay the first month’s rent. And a deposit. And if you have pets, another deposit. And the cost of having the electricity and water turned on. And depending on the specific details of the contract you have to sign, possibly trash pickup. And if you want internet, either you pay for that and get a modem through the ISP, or you pay extra on signing the lease. And if you want to do your laundry in your home (if there’s even a hookup), there’s an extra rental fee for a washer and dryer, unless you bring your own.

I got lucky. When I applied and was approved, this particular housing development was running a “special” - if you sign a lease, you get one month rent free to use within 12 months of signing. I had to use it immediately. With all the extra fees and everything else, I could either pay for the rent OR the deposit, but not both – so I paid the deposit and laughingly told them I’d like to use that free month on the first month, immediately, right now, please and thank you, now where’s my key? They almost turned me away at that point.

I honestly believe that if it hadn’t been for my professional clothing and the fact that I could point to a couple of scabs on my face, that I would have been denied at that point. (The scabs were from a dog. I had been renting a room from a “friend” who is no longer a friend. Her dog bit my face, and instead of punishing the dog, she decided I needed to move out that weekend. Note: this is literally the ONLY time I’ve had a dog bite me, despite having been around them most of my life, and this particular dog had snapped at multiple people before.)

Which goes into classism, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

Now the thing that has been on my last nerve for a few years now is a good one. The laws state that if your household changes in any way, you have to fill out the application again. Doesn’t matter if you literally got approved the day before: you fill it out again. Because there have been household changes. It doesn’t sound terrible at all, but I know somebody who got evicted from low income housing and ended up homeless because his wife left. Suddenly the household size was smaller, but had the same income, and it was over the limit for the household size. Sorry not sorry you have to go. I know somebody who was evicted for “falsified paperwork” because she had a baby and was in the hospital for 2 weeks, so didn’t get the paperwork in on time. They ended up in a homeless shelter (in this city, homeless shelters are more expensive than a lot of low income housing). Now she’s in debt that she’ll probably never get out of, due to that.

What’s more is that the eligibility requirements to be able to pass those income thresholds change constantly. Out of curiosity, I tracked the changes over the course of a year. Just checking on the first of the month. In a single year, the income requirements changed 10 times. It’s not easy to keep track of, and there’s not much reason to track it unless it’s literally part of your job, in order to keep in compliance with the laws.

My own personal gripe is much less severe than that. I can’t get married. Technically, my fiance can’t live with me. On paper, he lives with his parents, miles away. But he spends most of his time in my apartment, which is under my name only, because I’m disabled (but ineligible for disability) and need his help. We’ve been together for a decade. We’ve been engaged for over 5 years. But if we get married, then the household changes, and we have to fill out the paperwork and get approved again. The thing is: if we put together our incomes into one “household” income, we would never be eligible for low income housing. Which means we would have to move out.

Moving out comes with it’s own difficulties. Because of the paperwork you have to sign to lease low income housing – and depending on where you are because 60 states in a trenchcoat – there are hoops to jump through. The lease in this particular development,  you get a choice. If you break the lease you either a) pay the full amount of rent on the apartment through the end of the lease term or b) pay two months’ rent on the apartment after termination of the lease. So not only would we have to find other housing that we could afford (with all of the move in fees, deposits, transfer of service fees for utilities, bla bla bla), we would also have to pay 2 months’ rent on top of everything else. Which means either borrowing literally thousands of dollars from an individual – banks won’t do loans for this – or having to decide which bills get paid and which don’t while surviving off of ramen noodles for months at a time. Which… uh… would not work well with the man-thing’s diabetes.

Which all goes into respectability politics, and deciding whether or not poor people deserve to have stability and emotional fulfillment, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

Now this may sound like a whole lot of personal whining. And it kind of is. But I can’t speak for anybody else. This is my personal interactions with these people and with the laws behind their behavior. But it’s the laws themselves that are written to be exclusive of the people that need help the most.

Homeless people can not apply, because they don’t have a current address.

Unemployed people can not apply, because they don’t have an income.

Full time students can not apply, because of the legal definitions of the different types of housing.

People with “disposable” property (such as cars) are often denied because they could turn those assets into monies.

People who rely on that “disposable” property for work are unable to take advantage of low income housing due to the above.

People of color who have been relegated to specific neighborhoods where public transportation is not available due to the redlining of the last century are unable to take advantage of low income housing due to the above.

People who do not have thousands of dollars readily available are denied because they can not pay both the deposit and rent.

People who face employment discrimination (even though it’s illegal) are denied because they can not provide proof of steady income.

People who have bounced from employer to employer are often denied for the same reason.

People who have successfully gained low income housing are often unable to change anything about their household.

People who have successfully gained low income housing are often unable to get out of it if their situation improves.

All of it is written into the laws surrounding the housing itself.

So…. Yeah. It doesn’t work. But if you want me to actually get into the nitty gritty, I can start actually researching. But somebody’s gotta pay me for it.

[scienceoftheidiot]

In my move, I’m also moving all my drabbles, prompt answers and short stories with my OCs. Here’s an old one.

In case you don’t want to click on the link, the short story itself is right here under the cut.

No prompt for this one, just shameful fluff. TW for implied sex (not described) though this is not the subject of the story. (PS : no, it's not superpowers, tattoos, especially fresh ones, raise the skin slightly. While I don't have tattoos myself I had friends help me for this lol)(I also was inspired by a friend's tattoo - I don't know the story behind it and I won't ask her, but it was too on point for me not to use that in a story)

“I love you.”

As per usual, Diane didn’t answer Desden’s whisper. She hugged him tighter, as tight as she could, nestling her whole body against his under the covers, each centimeter of her bare skin huddled against his. But she stayed silent.

He sighed, but smiled, and gave her her hug back, his hands lazily trailing along her back, following her spine. His fingers met the usual raised area on her shoulder, and stayed there.

A bird. Wings open. That’s what she’d told him it was. He kept trying to visualize it, but failed. The details were too small, too many.

He’d thought of a scar the first time he felt this, and didn’t linger on it, nor did he ask about it. He was not the kind to pry – he had his own visible scar people kept questioning him about, and he knew how it felt. He’d even almost given in to his sister’s concern and dyed the thick white lock of hair at the back of his head back to brown. But he had decided not to in the end. He couldn’t see it, so it didn’t bother him, and dying it would be only so it didn’t bother others.

He was done with trying to fit in. He never really had, anyway. People were bothered, and then what?

After a while he had grown bolder with her, and, little by little, noticing she didn’t react ostensibly when he touched it, he had explored her shoulder more.

In the end, Diane was the one who had talked about it, spontaneously.

“You can feel my tattoo?!” There’d been a frown in Diane’s voice. She was lying on him, for their usual lazy morning cuddles. Desden had left himself get lost in following the outline of that weird skin change on her shoulder, almost falling back to sleep.

He’d been surprised, almost startled ; the idea had not even crossed his mind. He was dumb. It woke him up completely.

“Uh. A tattoo. Of course.” “And what did you think it was?” This time she was half laughing. Desden could have been upset by her tone, but by then he knew her well enough already to know she wasn’t mocking him.

“I… I thought it was a scar. Didn’t want to pry.”

She’d moved, kind of squirmed, still on top of him. She was trying to find the right words. After a while, she’d sighed.

“Desden, I can see your whole body. I know it by heart now. I know exactly where each and every one of your moles and small scars are. By the way. Your shins are covered in bruises. Constantly. I can see it even through your manly-man leg hair, you know.”

“There is a perfectly logical and obvious explanation to this, it’s the Fight C-”

She brought him back to the conversation by poking him in the cheek. “What I mean is, I have the advantage here. I can pry without you even knowing it. So it’s only fair that you’d be allowed to ask about anything. Don’t you think?”

Desden had turned his head and sighed with a sheepish smile.

“Yeah. So. What is it?”

“You can feel it, but you can’t tell?”

Desden had shaken his head. “It’s probably too detailed. And I wasn’t especially looking for a recognizable shape.”

“It’s a bird.” She wouldn’t elaborate.

“And then? What kind? What shape?”

“Now you’re getting curious.” She’d chuckled as his fingers went back to the tattoo. Both hands. “You’re choking me, there.”

“Sorry.” The second hand had quickly gone back to her other shoulder.

“It’s a small bird. Some kind of sparrow. Only black ink, so it doesn’t matter which, really. Wings stretched. Like it’s flying away.” “Mh.” Desden had tried to concentrate as much as he could, but he could only vaguely make out a relatively straight line, that he thought was some part of a wing. “I’ll trust your word on it.”

“How come you can read Braille and not feel that? It’s way bigger than any line I saw you read.”

“Human fingers can differentiate between pressure points separated by 2 millimeters.” He shrugged, rocking them both. “Not less. Your tattoo isn’t made to be touched, and it must be too finely drawn…”

“Thank you, Wikipedia.”

He’d pushed her off him in an annoyed groan, before rolling over her and kissing her.

They were in the same situation now. The bird under his fingers had not taken much more of a shape in his mind, but he liked the idea. Sometimes it felt like she was the bird. Ready to fly away any time. The tattoo reminded him of that – the bittersweet feeling that, yes, she might disappear one day, but at the least she had chosen to stay with him at the time.

That she might not reply to his declarations of love verbally, but the fact she stayed by him meant just as much.

At least that was what he tried to tell himself.

Later.

They had not seen each other in weeks.

Diane had left for a hike – that was the perfect time of year, no tourists and good weather – and when she’d come back, drained, sunburned, and happy, Desden had been in a rush at work and so stressed he’d avoided her.

That was in fact perfect, in Diane’s point of view. Three weeks exactly. Perfect.

She still whined a little, for form. She knew him – if she understood right away and just left him alone, even if that was what he actually wanted and needed, he would feel she was drifting away from him. Even if nothing was less true.

When they eventually met again, Desden had come pick her up at the bookshop. They were supposed to go get dinner somewhere. In reality, they barely managed to take the time to run to Desden’s flat before crashing against each other, kissing as if they had not seen each other in years rather than barely a month, hands everywhere.

No, not really everywhere. Diane made sure to divert his hands from a small spot on her arm.

Not yet. She did however let him expertly undress her and guide them both, still kissing, to the bedroom.

After, in the halflight of the evening, their legs tangled in the sheets, Desden stretched his arm lazily towards the bedside table, grabbing his watch. He felt the hands, wincing.

“So much for the table I had booked.”

But he put the watch back on the table with a half smile. That didn’t seem to bother him much. His smiles were always communicative – Diane couldn’t help reply with one.

“You should have told me.”

“I was… focused on something else.” He turned and hugged her, nuzzling her neck. It tickled. She laughed sharply. Maybe a little too sharply for acute ears.

“What’s wrong? You’re more… tense than usual. You were, too, when we… ”

“I, uh…” Now? Wasn’t it a little too early still?

Desden tilted his head to the side with a quizzical expression on his face. Knowing that he should not speak or she wouldn’t. She just couldn’t continue talking if someone cut her. Also he probably knew that face made her melt, and spill whatever he wanted her to say. She had no idea how he had noticed that, but he had.

She took a deep breath.

“I have something to show you.”

“Oh. Uh, okay, show me?” He started to get up, but she pushed him back to sit on the bed next to her. She sat more upright, too.

“It’s here.”

She took his hand and placed it on her arm. Desden’s quizzical look came back to his face, with a frown.

“What is – oh.”

It was as if he was the one melting this time. His shoulders flopped and he let out a short breath as he let his hand follow the short line, once, then twice, the frown on his face changing into something harder to interpret. But it was easy to interpret him biting his lips and blinking furiously.

“I just -”

He didn’t let her speak more, dragging her into a hug and kissing her just as fiercely, if not more, as he had done after not seeing her in weeks.

He broke the kiss, both hands on her face, foreheads touching.

“You’re. The worst. But goddamit, I do, too. You know that.”

“I know. I wanted to show you.”

Still forehead against forehead, he shook his head in a sigh, but there was the brightest of smiles on his lips.

He only moved one hand, and caught her arm, to feel the small dots again – that must have hurt, right? There were slightly bigger than they could have been, but it was okay. He could still perfectly spell out.

i love you

Taglist : @heirsoflilith @hughstheforcelou @shutterbug-12 @foxesandmagic @omg-okimhere

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes: Chapter 14

Previous Chapters:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

word count: 3443

______________________________________________

Dove wasn’t sure how long she’d slept for, but the sun was already shining and the RV was moving when she opened her eyes. Bleary eyed and still feeling tired, she rolled over onto her back as Carol shook her awake. “Mornin, sleepyhead,” Carol smiled a little as she brushed Dove’s hair back off her face.

Dove sighed as she rose into a sitting position. “How long was I out for?”

“A decent time,” Carol sighed as she sat next to her sister. “They wanted to wake you up when we were setting things out for Sophia, but I told them that you needed your rest.”

Dove scoffed and ran a hand through her hair before she pulled a hairtie from her wrist. “You’re one to talk about needing sleep,” Dove mumbled as she held the hairtie between her teeth. She was pulling her hair back as she listened to her sister.

“Shush. Daryl held true to his word. Made a nice big sign on the back window of a car and all that. Said someone should try to circle back at least once a day until she comes back,” Carol sounded confident in the efforts of the redneck and Dove couldn’t help but agree with her.

A few moments later, they came to a stop as people came filing out of a big farmhouse. Dove followed close behind Carol as she descended the steps. The members of the household stood back and Dove couldn’t help but observe them once she heard that Carl was alright. The older man, Hershel, stood close to a small blonde girl and a boy who had to be her boyfriend by the way she clung to his arm. The woman from the woods who had spirited Lori away to be with her son, an older blonde woman, and a tall young man with curly black hair all stood on the steps of the house.

Dove’s attention shifted to Shane as Rick spoke. “We would’ve lost Carl if not for him.” Dove paused for a moment before she followed Carol over and embraced Lori right along with her. The last thing she expected was to be pulled into another funeral, but that was what life had in store for them it seemed.

The dark haired man cleared his throat before he looked at the man who owned the house. “Hershel? Now that this is all handled…think we can do that thing for Otis now?” His words were careful and Dove saw the older blonde start to tear up. She could only guess who Otis was.

Hershel was a well spoken man and gave a nice service, even if Dove wasn’t so sure what she believed in anymore. Dove’s attention shifted to Shane again as Hershel attempted to direct him to speak. “I’m not very good at it, sorry.” Shane twitched slightly and Dove moved her hand up to clutch her necklace. Something about the way he was acting was just…off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it felt wrong.

“You were the last one with him,” Patricia began to cry again. “You shared his final moments. Please.” She began to plead and Dove stared at her feet. “I need to know his death had meaning.”

Shane stepped forward to speak and the whole group seemed to go silent. “We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limpin, it was bad. Ankle all swollen up. ‘We’ve gotta save the boy.’ See that’s what he said. He gave me his backpack, shoved me ahead. He said he would take the rear and cover me.” Dove’s gaze shifted around the group. 

The dark haired young man from before clenched his jaw as he stared across the group at Shane. Carol reached out and Dove reached back and instinctively gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “And when I looked back…”Shane stopped and walked forward. “If not for Otis, I never would’ve made it out alive. That goes for Carl too.” Dove’s eyes locked with Dale across the group as the man with the curly hair shook his head and began to stomp back to the house. Dale didn’t look like he bought it either. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all.

~

“Hey,” Dove turned slightly at the unrecognizable voice, only to see the young man from before. She raised an eyebrow as he approached; he looked less miserable than before but she couldn’t blame him. “Sorry if I spooked ya, Hershel just told me I should come get ya. They’re talkin about goin to look for that little girl.”

“Sophia,” Dove stated as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Right, sorry…you’re her aunt, I think the sheriff said,” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“’S right. Name’s Dove…Sawyer,” she held her hand out and the young man shook it, maybe too enthusiastically.

“Julian. Julian Montgomery. Now you’re just gonna wanna head up to that silver car right up there. Maggie’s bringing a map for ya’ll to look at.” He pointed towards the small group gathered right in the spot he’d said.

“Thanks. Think you can help my friend Glenn over there put up his tent? He acts like he’s good at it but he really sucks,” Dove mumbled as she patted the younger man’s arm in thanks before she began to speed walk off.

“Sure thing,” she heard the man reply from behind her.

As she approached, she heard Hershel almost scold Rick. “Not you, not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn’t be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out. And Shane, push that ankle now, you’ll be laid up for a month.”

Dove slid into the space between Andrea and who must have been Maggie and spoke up, “I’ll take Rick’s spot.”

Rick shook his head, “No I don’t think that’s a good idea. You should stay here with Carol and…”

“And what? Mope around and wish that I was out there able to do something? Besides, Sophia might not respond well to everyone. She doesn’t,” she trailed off and took a deep breath, “she doesn’t trust a lot of people. Odds of her coming out of wherever she is if she hears my voice are a lot higher than some strangers. No offense.”

There was a pause before Shane sighed, removed his baseball hat, and ran a hand over his now bald head. “Bird’s got a point.”

Daryl let out an annoyed grunt as he reached out for the map. “Look’s like it’s just me, then.”

Rick sighed and pinched his nose, “Daryl…”

“I work better alone,” Daryl said as he surveyed the map.

“Well that’s too damn bad, Dixon.” Dove felt her anger at the man flare up again. “Because like I said. It doesn’t seem like alone is gonna bring Sophia out of hiding anytime soon.”

The tension in the air was thick before Daryl spoke again as he pushed the map back over towards her. Dove caught Andrea’s eye and raised an eyebrow at her. The older woman just shrugged her shoulders. “We head back to the creek then. Work our way from there.”

Shane was going to go back to the road and Dove felt a little bit better about everything before Shane spoke again. “We can’t have our people out there with just knives.”

“We don’t just have knives. Daryl’s got his crossbow, I’ve got my crowbar. We’re fine,” Dove planted her hands on the hood of the car.

“Not saying you won’t be fine today, but what about tomorrow. Everyone needs gun training. We’ve been promising them,” Shane said. Dove rolled her eyes and patted the hood of the car.

“Alright well, you let me know when we’re heading out,” she pointed across the hood at Daryl before she turned on her heel and caught sight of Carol. She caught up with her as she started to set up camp. “I just wanted to let you know…I’m goin with Daryl to look for Soph.” She looked down at her feet as she heard Carol stop moving.

Carol sighed. “Alright. Just…please be careful. I don’t need to lose you too,” Carol looked up at her younger sister from her spot on the ground.

Dove chuckled and gave Carol’s shoulder a playful shove. “I think the only thing I have to worry about it Daryl leavin my ass out in the woods if he decides I’m too annoying.” She caught a glimpse of the man as he walked towards the house, so she leaned closer to her sister, a devious sparkle in her eye, “Or he pisses me off and I give him an old ‘one-two’ with old trusty here,” she waved her crowbar close to Carol.

Carol rolled her eyes and slapped the weapon away from her, “Just behave yourself and be careful, please.”

“Yes, mom,” Dove called over her shoulder as she turned and walked off.

Julian stopped what he was doing as he saw Maggie approach. He raised a hand in greeting, “Hey, Mags! You meet Glenn yet?” He called and a glare from Glenn went unnoticed as the brunette woman shook her head.

“No, but I was lookin for him.” Maggie turned her attention to Glenn. “I hear you’re fast on your feet and know how to get in and out.” Julian let out a quiet snort of laughter as Maggie continued. “Got a pharmacy run. You in?”

Glenn didn’t seem to know what to say and, thankfully, Dale interrupted. Julian tried to bite back another laugh once Maggie walked off to saddle up a horse for the new guy. Glenn glanced between the three men around him, “Horse?”

Julian couldn’t hold it in anymore and laughed, “Ever ridden one before man?” Glenn shook his head as a look of concern washed over his face. “Don’t worry, dude. It’s just like riding a bike. Except the bike is alive and can buck you off if you…”

“Julian.” A loud voice from the house interrupted his as the small blonde stepped out onto the porch and waved him towards her.

“Ah, nevermind. Let me know if you guys need anymore help later,” he nodded at the members of the new group. “Good luck, Glenn.” Once the young man was far enough away, Dale spoke up.

“What a strange boy,” Dale shook his head.

T-Dog rolled his eyes, “Man almost threw up when he saw my arm last night. Don’t think they’ve seen other people in months. Just let it go, man.”

~

Dove wasn’t surprised that she almost missed Daryl leaving and it was only by the good grace of Rick Grimes that she was able to catch him before he left without her. “It puts you off the hook. You don’t owe us anything,” Rick called over to him as Dove stopped behind the man with the crossbow.

Daryl paused a moment, “My other plans fell through. C’mon,” he walked past her with an angry look on his face.

“What was that all about,” Dove took long strides to keep up with the older man.

“Nothin, don’t worry about it. Now be quiet. I need to be able to hear out here,” Daryl grunted as he walked into the tree line.

Dove sighed as she stepped into the trees behind him. “Sorry, guess I’m a bit of a nervous talker,” she whispered.

“Haven’t noticed,” Daryl hissed back.

Dove chewed on the inside of her cheek to stay quiet as best she could. She wasn’t necessarily in the mood to be on Daryl’s bad side today. So, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and wrapped her thin fingers around the pendant that the same angry person had given to her last night.

“You alright back there,” Daryl turned his head.

Dove’s eyes snapped open and she felt heat rush to her cheeks. With a shake of her head, she let go of her necklace and moved to catch up to him. “Sorry, didn’t realize that I’d fallen behind.”

“You best keep up. Don’t need your sister on my ass for losin you while we’re out here lookin for Sophia,” he looked her up and down as she stepped up alongside him.

Dove scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Shit.”

“What?”

“You fucking sound like Carol,” she rolled her eyes and motioned for him to get moving again.

Daryl huffed as he started moving through the trees again. It didn’t take too long for them to reach a clearing. Dove, however, was surprised as she stepped out into the bright sunshine. She stared ahead and her heart leapt as she caught sight of a house. “You think she could be in there,” she turned her head to look at Daryl.

“Don’t know, could be. Let’s go,” he spoke quietly before he motioned for her to follow him. “Keep that thing close,” he pointed to the crowbar in her hand.

Dove nodded as she tightened her grip on the weapon as they approached the home. Dove felt her pulse quicken as they walked through each room. She wanted to call out for Sophia but she knew that wasn’t the best idea. A walker could hear them, then they would all be up shit creek. It was as Daryl picked up a can of tuna that she heard it. Something moved in the closet. She stared at it as the man slowly rose into a standing position and began to move towards the sound. All the horror movies she’d ever seen told her it was an awful idea, but Daryl pulled the little door open before she could protest.

A sharp exhale left her as she felt her sense of hope deflate like a balloon. There was nothing in the cupboard except for blankets and a pillow. She stepped up next to him and stared down at the small pile on the ground for a few moments. A hand on her arm snapped her out of it and she turned her head slowly to see Daryl put his hand back on his crossbow. “C’mon. Maybe she’s outside,” he was already out the door, calling for her before she even had a chance to move.

Dove’s feet carried her quickly as she ran out the door and towards the opposite end of the clearing from Daryl. She yelled for Sophia over and over again for what felt like hours but was really only minutes. Her hazel eyes started to fill with tears as she turned around and spotted Daryl. He had a white flower in his hand. What the fuck.

Daryl must have great hearing, she thought as he turned around once she started to approach. “Can you hold this,” he held the flower out to her. Her eyes widened as she stared at his hand before her gaze shifted back to his face. “It’s for your sister. A Cherokee rose,” he explained. Dove stared blankly. “You know, right?”

Dove raised an eyebrow, “The…state flower of Georgia?”

Daryl rolled his eyes and shoved the flower into her grasp, “Can’t believe you don’t know the story.”

Dove sighed as she began to follow Daryl back to their new camp. “I…I think I wanna hear the story,” she looked down at the flower in her hand as Daryl peeked over his shoulder at her. “I mean, if you’re alright with talkin in the woods and all that.”

Daryl paused for a moment, just long enough for Dove to keep up and match his stride. “Just an old wives tale, I think. Heard it from school…my mom, don’t really remember. Just remember the story.”

Dove chuckled and nudged Daryl’s arm with her elbow as they walked, “I don’t mind old wives tales. Just as good as any other story. I wanna hear it. If you got this,” she held the flower up, “for my sister because of a story or whatever, it must be a good one. You don’t seem like a man who does or says much if it doesn’t have a purpose.”

Daryl squinted at her for a moment before he turned his attention forward with a nod of his head. “Alright. But I’ll tell ya when we get back. Don’t wanna repeat myself.” Dove rolled her eyes and kept her mouth shut the rest of the walk back. He was doing a lot for her family, that was the least she could do for him.

Dove let out a low whistle as she looked around the clean RV. “I cleaned it up. Wanted it to look nice for her,” Carol spoke from the small table. A smile crossed Dove’s face as Daryl reached back and took the flower from her. She was careful as she slipped past him and took a seat across from her sister.

“For a second, I thought I was in the wrong place,” Daryl replied. Dove reached across the table and gave Carol’s hand a squeeze.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Care,” Dove patted Carol’s hand once more before she folded her hands on the table in front of her. Her eyes settled on the Cherokee rose that was now placed on the counter.

“A flower,” Carol asked.

“It’s a Cherokee rose,” Daryl motioned towards the flower. Dove raised an eyebrow at the older man expectantly. He had told her that there was a story, she didn’t want to have to ask. He sighed and stepped closer to the table. “The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the trail of tears, the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much ‘cause they were losing their little ones along the way.” Dove caught herself starting to chew on her thumb nail as she listened to Daryl talk. A glance over at her sister showed that she was just as caught up in the story. “Ya know, exposure and disease…starvation. A lot of them just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer; asked for a sign to uplift the mothers’ spirits, give them strength and hope.” Carol’s gaze settled on the flower on the counter, but Dove’s focus didn’t shift from the man as he spoke.

Dove was good at picking up lies. She had to be in her old life before everything ended. She could pick up the slightest tell in most people after knowing them for a little while. But Daryl didn’t seem like a liar or insincere. She felt tears start to form in her eyes and she raised a hand to wipe them away as he continued. “The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers’ tears fell. I’m not fool enough to think there’s any flowers blooming for my brother. But, I believe this one bloomed for your little girl.”

Dove let out a quiet laugh along with her sister as a smile finally showed on Carol’s face for the first time in days. Once Daryl had left, Dove took a deep breath and spoke. “Damn that was quite a story,” she chuckled as she wiped tears from her cheeks.

Carol nodded her head, “Did you know about that?”

Dove shook her head, “Nope. Daryl’s the one who picked the flower for you and everything. I didn’t even know what he was talkin about when he mentioned it in the woods…I get it now, though.” Dove smiled at her sister. “Unless it was just an excuse for Daryl to bring you a flower because he’s got a crush on you,” Dove wiggled her eyebrows as she ducked to avoid a swat from Carol.

The short-haired woman shook her head as she let out a laugh, “You cut that out!”

“Oh come on, he’s not that bad,” Dove laughed as she tossed a crumb of food towards her sister.

Carol raised an eyebrow at her, “You been spending some time with him the past few days. Are you…what do ya call it? Projecting?” A sly look was on Carol’s face as she went back to her knitting.

Dove let out a loud, incredulous laugh as she shook her head, “See now that? That’s taking it way too far!”

It was strange, but it was the most at peace that Dove had probably felt since Sophia had gone missing. Still, she couldn’t help but feel just a little guilty for it. “You were right, back on the road.”

“Huh,” Dove tilted her head.

“If anyone’s gonna find Sophia, it’s probably a tracker,” Carol nodded her head.

Dove stood up and walked around the table before she settled back down and leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. “I hope you’re right.”

___

@crossbowking​ @momc95​ @chaotic-gary-king-stan​​

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Six

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Content warning: Mention of overdose and past death of a close friend. It’s not too detailed, but I wanted to give people a heads up just in case.

________

May. 12. 2020 

Henry: I have a proposition for you

Me: That makes me slightly nervous

Me: What is it?

Henry: Would you like to go on a hike?

Henry: We can keep our distance and I've heard it's harder to spread/catch if you're outside

Henry: I completely understand if you're not comfortable though

I thought about it for a moment. As long as there wasn't too many people out on the trails then it should be pretty low risk as long as we kept our distance and I hadn't been out of the house at all since taking the cake over to Henry's house for his birthday. So, after my brief deliberation, I accepted his invitation.

Henry: Great, meet me at my house in twenty?

Me: Sounds good!

I quickly dragged myself off the couch, threw all the necessities into a bum bag, grabbed a sweater from my closet and shouted goodbye to my family with a brief explanation of where I was headed. They shouted a few questions back, but I rushed out the door without giving them a chance to get too nosy.

Me: On my way!

I sent to Henry when I was about halfway there before adding another message

Me: All masked up and ready to go

Me:

 As I turned onto Henry's street, he was standing outside his house, looking down at his phone as Kal sniffed the sidewalk around him.

"I like your sweater," Henry smirked as I got within a reasonable distance.

"Thanks," I smiled. "I thought it might scare any bears we might run into. You know, they might get confused and think I'm one of them."

Henry laughed and shook his head.

"There's no bears in Jersey that aren't locked up in a zoo," He informed me. "There's absolutely no dangerous wildlife around here."

"That's reassuring," I smirked. "But it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Fair enough," Henry chuckled before pausing. "Would you feel more comfortable if I wore a mask as well?"

I appreciated his offer, but shrugged.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," I assured him. "I know you've been staying pretty isolated and I'll probably take it off once we're off the main roads, but it just gives me peace of mind if we run into anyone along the way."

"Alright," He smiled. "Shall we head off then?"

I nodded and we started off down the street, Henry whistling for Kal to follow. He did so obediently, nudging his nose against my hand before walking a few paces ahead of us.

"I'm glad Kal gets to come," I commented. "But aren't you worried he might dart off after any little critter he sees?"

"Not really," Henry shrugged, respectfully staying on the edge of the road, just off the sidewalk as I walked along the opposite side. "I've got him quite well-trained. He might get distracted, but as soon as I call him he'll come back."

"What a good boy!"

Kal's tail wagged at that, but he was too busy sniffing around some bushes to pay much attention to us.

"He is," Henry nodded. "He's been an amazing asset. He comes with me every where I go and I can't imagine getting through this whole acting experience without him."

"That's really sweet," I smiled. "I always wanted a dog, but it's such a big commitment. I wouldn't want to get one and then be too busy to give it the kind of life it deserves."

"It is a massive commitment," He agreed. "I'm very lucky that I'm able to bring Kal on almost all of my travels and that when I'm on set there's always someone happy to keep him company."

"Well who wouldn't want to keep him company? He's gorgeous."

I held back a remark about dogs looking like their owners as Henry grinned proudly and we fell into a comfortable silence.

****

It was only about a ten minute walk before we turned off the main road and onto a more secluded path. The sun was starting to get stronger as it was almost mid-afternoon so I slipped my mask down to my neck so that I wouldn't get too hot, but could cover up quickly if we passed anyone on the trails. Somewhere along the way we'd fallen into asking each other random questions and, while most of it was silly, some of it was proving to be rather informative.

"That's so boring," I wrinkled my nose when he told me that his favourite fruit was an apple. "Considering how much of a world traveller you are I would have expected something much more exotic."

Henry chuckled at that as he did every time I criticized one of his answers.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe a papaya or a dragon fruit," I theorized. "Anything more exciting than a boring old apple."

"I don't think I've even tried either of those," He admitted. "Now, speaking of travelling, what's one place that you've not been to, but would love visit one day?"

I thought about it for a moment before answering.

"There's quite a few really, I haven't travelled nearly as much as I would have liked," I confessed. "But if I had to choose somewhere to go first, I think I'd choose Canada. Australia is a close second, but I'm terrified of spiders and I hear there's a lot there. So Canada, the part where the mountains and lakes are."

"My brother lives there," Henry's face lit up. "My younger brother, Charlie. He lives in Calgary which, from my understanding, is quite close to the mountains and lakes."

"That's so cool," I smiled, my words dripping with envy. "Have you been to visit him?"

"No," He sighed. "Usually he's the one to come here. He was back briefly before the lockdown actually, but he left to be with his family just before I came back to Jersey so we didn't see each other."

He looked sad as he spoke and I felt a pang of sympathy in my chest.

"That must be hard," I said softly. "Especially not knowing when international travel will be back up and running."

"It's tough," He nodded. "I'm used to only seeing him once or twice a year, but it's definitely worse not knowing how long it will be until we can all be together again. He's safe though and so is his family and that's what matters the most these days, isn't it?"

I nodded in agreement before a smile slid onto my face.

"And now, you can tell your brother that you'll be visiting as soon as you're allowed to because I fully intend to take advantage of this connection and make you take me there."

"Make me?" Henry laughed. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"I can be very persuasive," I smirked with a suggestive lift of an eyebrow before turning my attention back to the path before he could react. "So, if you weren't an actor, what would be doing?"

"I'd probably be in the military," He answered without having to think about it too much. "A couple of my brothers are and I'm quite disciplined so it seems like a good fit."

"More dangerous though..."

"Well, I do my own stunts so sometimes acting gets dangerous," Henry pointed out. "I did spend a lot of time hanging out of a helicopter for Mission Impossible."

"Yeah, but there's a whole team of people responsible for making sure that you don't die, right?"

"Of course and the stunt teams are amazing," He smirked. "But that doesn't mean there isn't any risk, accidents do happen."

I grimaced slightly, knowing that he was probably right.

"You should switch to baking," I suggested. "Definitely a lot safer."

Henry laughed, shaking his head.

"Alright, well, my next question is: have you ever had any bad baking mishaps?" He asked. "It might not compare to action stunts, but I'd imagine there's the potential for some nasty injuries."

"There is, but luckily I've always been pretty careful. A few minor burns and the odd slice of a knife, but nothing too serious. I have seen some pretty nasty stuff over the years though. Like once..." I paused for a second. "Wait, do you want to hear this? It's pretty bad."

"Yeah, go on," Henry nodded. "I think I can handle it."

"Okay, so, one of the bakeries I worked in for a while made a lot of things like doughnuts and churros so we had a deep fryer." My skin started to crawl just thinking of the memory and from the look on Henry's face he seemed to regret agreeing to hear about it, but I continued. "One day, my co-worker was cleaning the counter next to it, scrubbing really hard on a super sticky spot and her hand slipped and shot right into the boiling hot oil.”

"Oh my god," Henry squeezed his eyes shut, his fist clenching as if he was experiencing the pain himself. "That's horrible. Were you there? Was she okay?"

"I was," I nodded. "It was like it happened in slow motion and she didn't even scream, I guess from the shock, but I was hysterical. I kept expecting her skin to just slide off any minute like you see in the movies, but thank goodness it wasn't quite that bad."

"I think I'm going to have nightmares just hearing that story," Henry cringed. "Has it scared you off ever going near a deep fryer again?"

"I haven't had to use them much since that job actually, but it definitely made me very cautious," I admitted with a wrinkle of my nose. "What about you? Any nasty injuries on set?"

"No, I've been lucky as well. The stunt teams are all very good at their jobs so other than a few near misses with a sword here and there, I've never been in any real danger."

"Do you actually use real swords?"

"For the most part," Henry nodded. "For the Blaviken fight scene in the Witcher we used swords that were cut in half and then CGI edited in afterwards because we did it all in one take and there were a lot of moving parts that made it more dangerous."

"You filmed it all in one take?"

We were on a fairly steep incline and I was feeling the effect. My words struggled to come out as I fought to catch my breath and I was happy to give Henry some more time to talk before I had to answer any more questions.

"We did," He smiled proudly. "For the flow of the scene, it just made the most sense, but it was difficult. The cameramen couldn't see where they were going at all, they just had to use their memory with someone guiding them from behind so everyone had to hit all the marks just right to make sure there were no collisions. And with it all being one take, if anyone made a mistake or the timing was off at all then we had to stop the whole thing and start from the beginning."

"Wow, that's...impressive."

Henry caught my slight gasp for breath and looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you need to rest for a moment?"

I nodded and we both stopped walking as I pulled my inhaler out of my bum bag. I took a quick puff followed by a few slow breaths until I had managed to steady my breathing.

"Sorry about that. My asthma has been playing up the last few days and that hill just took it out of me..."

I felt silly getting winded while he was so unfazed, but he waved me off.

"Don't apologize," He insisted. "We can take a break whenever you need. There's been a lot of hills and I didn't even think about your asthma so I'm sorry for that."

"No need to be sorry. I haven't left the house at all since I brought your cake over last week so it's good for me to exercise," I assured him as I started walking again, much to Kal's delight as he charged off ahead of us again. "Anyway, back to your sword fight. That must have taken so much practice!"

"It definitely did," Henry nodded. "Hours and hours of it. It's like training for a big dance number really, everyone has to hit their marks exactly right, but we pulled it off first try."

I couldn't help, but smile at the pride in his voice.

"That's amazing. It must have felt incredible when you finished and knew you'd nailed it."

"Absolutely," He grinned. "So, if your asthma gets in the way of certain exercises, how do you stay so in shape?"

I felt my cheeks heat up at the subtle compliment, but he was looking ahead and keeping an eye on Kal so luckily he didn't notice.

"I do yoga," I told him. "Not the most exciting, but it is a lot harder than it looks. I thought it would be easy, but the day after my first class I could barely move at all."

"I've heard that a lot about yoga," He chuckled. "Even from big body builder guys at the gym, they try yoga thinking they'll smash the class, but they end up coming out just as sweaty as when they lift weights."

I'd had to defend my love of yoga to many people over the years. As Henry pointed out, my options for keeping fit were quite hampered by my weak lungs so I didn't have loads of choices, but I did end up really enjoying yoga and seeing plenty of physical benefits from the classes. It was annoying to have to constantly insist that it was in fact a workout worth doing so it was refreshing that someone with Henry's gym experience understood right away.

"It's pretty tough," I smiled. "Even though I'm sure you'd find it easy. I imagine with those muscles you could probably lift a car over your head without any struggle."

Henry laughed at that, shaking his head.

"Not quite a car," Henry smirked. "But speaking of strength, are you a good climber?"

I raised an eyebrow at that question as I noticed him looking off to the side of the trail at a small rock wall that was about Henry's height.

"Why? What have you got planned?"

"There's an excellent view if we take a brief detour," He explained. "But you'd have to climb that little cliff."

I looked at it a bit more intently than I had before and it seemed easy enough. It wasn't all that high and the edge was rough enough that it wouldn't be too hard to get a grip on.

"I think I can do it," I shrugged. "But what about Kal?"

"I'll lift him up. He's much lighter than a car."

He shot me a wink and I actually, literally giggled like some kind of flirtatious fangirl. It slipped out before I could stop it and, despite Henry either not noticing my embarrassing behaviour or just politely ignoring it, my cheeks went bright red again.

He led the way over to the wall and whistled for Kal who bounded over happily. The big dog didn't even flinch when Henry scooped him up and plopped him down on the top of the little cliff and he sat down obediently when he was commanded to 'stay'.

"You go up first and I'll spot you," Henry instructed.

I nodded and went up to the wall. It was pretty easy to find a good spot to hold so I grabbed on and hoisted myself up. It wasn't that far to go so I only needed to get my feet a little bit higher before I could push up and get my hands on the ground at the top. I could feel the warmth of Henry's body hovering behind me and perhaps it was the distraction of realizing how close he was or just that my running shoes didn't have the right grip for this kind of activity, but as I got my hands on the top of the cliff, my foot slipped off the wall before I could push myself up properly. I didn't fall very far though as Henry's hand was right there, ready to catch me as it collided with my bum.

Both of us froze for a moment. The warmth of his hand felt like it was burning a hole through the yoga pants I was wearing and my brain instantly felt the need to focus on the fact that his massive hand covered almost the entirety of the cheek it was currently cupping. As the shock of the contact wore off, I quickly found my footing again and dragged myself up so I was sitting on the edge at the top.

"Two metres apart, Mr. Cavill!"

He was standing there with his hand still out where it had been, looking just as surprised as I was, but as I scolded him his shock quickly morphed into a smirk.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," He assured me as he grabbed onto the wall and pulled himself up with an ease that made my attempt look quite sad. "But I must say, that yoga is definitely working for you."

My jaw dropped at his comment, but after a moment I couldn't help but grin. Even if I didn't have muscles like Henry, I did put a lot of effort into my body and my bum had come a long way from the flat board that it used to be and I was proud of it.

"Thank you," I said as I pulled myself up to my feet. "But please, keep your hands off of my bum...At least while we're out in public."

Now it was Henry's turn to be shocked by my comment and my turn to smirk as I turned and headed off towards the little path we were next to with Henry and Kal hot on my heels.

****

The path we ended up on was another steep hill which Henry profusely apologized for once he realized, but I assured him I was fine. It was a beautiful trail and it wasn't long until we ended up in the clearing that he was steering us towards. As promised, the view was amazing and absolutely worth the trek.

"Wow," I gasped quietly, looking out over the ocean. "This is incredible."

"It's one of my favourite places on this whole island," Henry admitted. "I don't think many people know about it as it's not a main viewpoint, but Charlie and I used to run wild all over this place and we stumbled across it when I was only about twelve."

"What a great find," I complimented him, still in awe. "It's beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Of course," He smiled. "You're practically a local now so you need to know all the best spots."

I laughed weakly at his description of me as a local even though it was probably true. I’d been here for months and wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

"Well, I can't think of anywhere that would beat this. Can we stay for a while?"

"Sure," He shrugged. "I don't have anywhere to be."

I smiled and went to the edge before sitting down and letting my legs dangle over. It wasn't a straight drop down, there was a big ledge sticking out only a few feet down so it was safe, but gave me a sense of freedom as I looked out at the wide open space in front of me. Henry whistled for Kal and gave him some water from his bottle before joining me, but keeping a respectful distance.

"So," Henry broke our comfortable silence a few minutes into our pit stop. "After all those questions, I realized I've never asked you what your bakery was called."

I felt my stomach drop at that question. He probably thought it was a pretty easy one, but my hands went all tingly and clammy and I was almost positive all the colour had drained from my face. I stayed silent for a moment as I thought it over. I could have lied and told him anything, really. He'd never know. But deep down I knew it wasn't a subject that I could avoid forever so I took a deep breath and answered.

"Lola's."

As I predicted, he gave me a confused look and pressed for answers.

"Lola's? Is that your middle name or something?"

Again, I was tempted to lie and pretended he'd guessed right, but if I wanted to continue our friendship, I had to be honest.

"No, it was the name of my best friend." My voice was quiet, but it didn't crack or waiver so that was an improvement. "She died last year."

I saw Henry turn to look at me out of the corner of my eye, clearly at a loss for words, but I kept my gaze off on the horizon.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," He said after a moment of quiet. "How did she die? If you don't mind me asking."

I didn't mind, but it was hard to talk about. I'd gone the route of burying my emotions rather than dealing with them when she passed so it was usually a topic I just steered clear of completely.

"She overdosed," I told him, still not looking over at him in an attempt to hide the tears that were brimming in my eyes. "She was always into partying, much more than I was, but she never really did drugs until she started dating this new guy. Suddenly she was talking about all the things she was trying and a few weeks later she was dead. Apparently he was a dealer and he'd tried cutting his supply with something dodgy so he could make more profit."

"That's horrible..." Henry's voice was soft and cautious and it made my eyes fill even more. "I'm so sorry, Brooke."

"Thanks," I choked out. "Sorry, this is super heavy. I don't mean to dump it all on you."

I wiped my eyes and tried to sort myself out a bit, but he shook his head.

"I'm happy to listen," He insisted. "How long were you friends?"

"Since we were three," I smiled. "We met in nursery school and were instant friends. Her name was Laura, but I called her Lola from the day that we met, I thought it suited her better."

"Wow, that's a long time."

"It was," I nodded. "She was like a sister to me. Cassie and I are really close, but Lola and I just clicked instantly. No one understood me like she did and she absolutely always had my back. She was the one who gave me the idea to open my own bakery. She'd been saying it for years so when she died, I knew I had to give it shot. You know, to honour her. It made closing down so much harder because I feel like I've let her down."

"I would be willing to bet a lot of money that that isn't the case at all," Henry smiled reassuringly. "I bet she's watching over you, proud that you gave it a good shot and completely relieved that you did what was best for your health."

I teared up again as he spoke, knowing deep down that he was right. Lola wouldn't be disappointed that I failed for reasons that were out of my control and if she was alive she would have dragged me to Jersey herself if it was the safest place for me to be. I hadn't voiced my guilt to anyone else though so no one had the chance to tell me I was being silly and hearing it made at least a tiny bit of my regret melt away.

"You're probably right," I agreed, wiping my eyes again as a few tears slipped down my cheeks. "Sorry, it's just hard to talk about and it's her birthday in a couple of weeks so it's even more of a sensitive subject."

"No need to be sorry," He assured me again. "It sounds like it's still quite fresh, but whenever you want to talk about it I'm more than happy to listen."

I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, biting hard to try to fight back the floods of tears I could feel rising. It was very touching how kind he was being when plenty of people would have run for the hills as soon as they realized what a nerve they'd struck with such a simple question. I glanced over at him, trying to find the strength to thank him without a sob bursting free, when he tentatively held out his hand, placing it palm up in the dirt between us. A few more tears escaped at the gesture, but a smile slid onto my face as well as I reached out and placed my hand in his.

We stayed like that for a long time. Hand in hand, but almost two metres apart as we looked out over the ocean with Kal settled in the dirt between us. It was refreshing and calming as was almost every moment that Henry and I had shared. Eventually, we realized that it was getting quite late and we should head back before we ended up walking back in the dark, but the comfort I'd felt in that time with him lingered even as we headed home.

The somewhat somber mood that had fallen on us was soon forgotten and the laughter and fun returned as we continued asking questions and talked about everything from what we do if we could be invisible for a day to how much we both wanted a family and children of our own.

We ended up down by the beach just as the sun was setting and paused by the pier to watch it. It was a pretty breath taking sight and by the time I got home I was feeling giddy from the magical day that I'd had. Henry was shaping up to be pretty much everything I hadn't realized that I'd wanted. I'd been so busy in the last year, grieving the loss of my friend and then trying to start and run a business that dating hadn't even been on my mind, but now, after sharing so many heartwarming moments with someone who made me feel as warm inside as he did, it was something I couldn't help, but think about a lot.

I was in the middle of filling Cassie in on my day's adventures as I rather inelegantly shovelled some food into my mouth when my phone beeped on the table. I saw Henry's name pop up on the screen and my heart melted at what I saw when I opened the message.

Henry: 

Henry: I took this picture earlier and I can't get over how beautiful it is...

Henry: And by 'it' I mean you, the sunset pales in comparison

[detectivecarlosreyes]

Academy Together, Friends Forever 10/10

Also on Ao3

(Beginning) (Prev Chapter)

Exhausted, Buck falls back against his pillows and rolls over to check the time on his phone to see how long he had to wait before it was acceptable to be awake. 12:47am. Damn, he’d only been asleep for what? Some 3 hours? It felt like he’d be sleeping for much longer than that.

Settling back onto his back, Buck shuts his eyes with a heavy sigh knowing that It’ll be unlikely for him to sleep, especially not after a nightmare like that. Sometimes if he’s lucky, he’s able to get a few hours of shut-eye if the nightmare is just a memory on repeat, but the ones that send him reeling and in desperate need to call Eddie, well he can expect the rest of his night to be a sleepless one.

He couldn’t have been lying there for more than 20 minutes when he hears the door creak open with TK whispering, “Buck, you still awake?”

Instead of answering or opening his eyes, he pats the untouched side of the bed, beckoning TK to join him. There’s a pause before he hears the soft padding of footsteps on the carpet and then he feels the bed dip underneath TK’s weight.

They lie there quietly, listening to each other breathe until Buck can’t take the silence anymore and turns his head to look at TK curiously.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

TK blushed at the question. “Uh, I just got in from dinner actually,” He shakes his head, “but that’s not why I’m here. Are you okay?”

Buck rolls over onto his side and props up on his elbow, looking down at TK. “Am I okay? I feel like I should be asking you that.”

TK turns his head to the side to look back at him. “Buck, I heard you and dad. You just had a freaking nightmare, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

Buck gives him a look. “I mean, I’m not the one who woke up two days ago from a coma after being shot, nor does my dad have cancer.”

Buck knew he was deflecting the question because he didn’t have an answer for TK, and clearly TK had no response either judging by how quiet he became after that. With nothing left to say, he flops back onto his back and wedges a hand under his head. And they lie there like that, for some time after that, neither really knowing what to say until TK’s softly speaks up again.

“It’s not weird to be afraid to go back to work, right? I mean I got shot, if that can happen on the job, what else is could happen?"

“I know exactly what you mean,” he replies, matching TK’s quiet tone. “And no, I don’t think it’s weird at all, but then again I’m probably not the best person to talk to about this considering my track record...”

TK reaches down and takes hold of his wrist. “Buck, out of anyone, you’re probably the best person to talk about this because you know what it’s like. Would you tell me what it was like for you?”

Buck sighs deeply. “I’m not going to pretend it was easy because it wasn’t, even with how much as I wanted to be back at work. When I first got back, getting into the truck was the worst part for a long time, I had this constant feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach that something bad was going to happen. I’m still waiting for that feeling to go away.” He says the last part under his breath, but TK still heard him.

He continues on, “And, well, you know about the nightmares; actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if that feeling contributes to them honestly.” He sighs again, “Tonight’s wasn’t the first nightmare I’ve had relating to what happened, but it certainly was one of the worst. That’s not to say any of this will be the same for you though, I had a lot of other things happen before I was actually back at work which I’m sure made things worse.”

There was a long, drawn-out pause before TK finally says somewhat jokingly, “Ah, that explains why you look like crap.” Unsure of what else to say, choosing instead to lighten the mood; and Buck can’t help but roll his eyes in amusement and throws a pillow at him in response.

“But seriously though, dad was worried that you weren’t sleeping, I’m guessing that’s why?”

“Yeah,” Buck says softly.

Then with an air of levity, he speaks up again with a light chuckle, “Between you, me and Chim, we should start a little support group for firefighters who’ve had near-death experiences.”

“Chim?”

He’s one of the guys I work with; the man has been stabbed and he’s survived a piece of rebar in his head.”  

TK looks at him in surprise, “Wow, okay, wasn’t expecting that.” His voice takes on a considering tone. “Maybe we should.”

Buck hums in response, feeling the pull of sleep tugging at his consciousness and feeling surprisingly comfortable and more relaxed than he’s ever felt so soon after a nightmare. Even if he doesn’t sleep, it still usually it takes him a couple of hours for his body and mind to settle after an intense dream, but this time, after talking with Owen and having TK lying next to him, it didn’t seem quite so bad.

He feels TK shift on the bed and releases his wrist as he fights to keep his eyes open. But before TK could move far, Buck reaches out and takes hold of his wrist stalling him in his movements.

“Would you stay?”

The request was a familiar one, except this time their roles were reversed, which is why TK doesn’t hesitate, he just pulls the covers back and settles into the bed, shuffling in close. Comforted by TK’s presence, Buck finally lets his eyes fall shut.

He feels TK gently brush away a curl from his forehead as he whispers, “You can sleep now Buck.”

And he does.

** ** **

Buck flew out later that morning feeling more rested for the first time since he’d come to Austin. Owen luckily had the morning off before work and insisted that he and TK would drive him to the airport to see him off.

Their farewell was a quick affair with Owen stopping in the departures zone, leaving the car idling and giving him an awkwardly positioned hug over the console between them and making him promise to keep in touch.

TK, on the other hand, got out of the car with him and pulled him in for a hug and whispers familiar words in his ear, “Remember great love involves great risk, maybe you should heed your own advice.”

Buck looks at him in surprise but nods nonetheless before TK climbs back into the car and raises his hand in a wave as they pull away. Hiking his bag up on his shoulder Buck heads to the terminal, with TK’s words still lingering in his thoughts.

The flight went by quickly and Buck landed back in LA just after lunchtime. Distracted by his stomach grumbling as he scrolls through his phone to pull up a rideshare app, he almost misses his name being called out.

“Buck!”

Startled, Buck slows his steps as he looks around, searching for where the voice came from until his eyes eventually land on Eddie. The man smiling in front of him was wearing his LAFD shirt, fresh off a shift no doubt, and holding up a brown paper bag that Buck is certain was containing some form of bakery goods.

“What are you doing here?” He asks as he approaches Eddie, surprised to see him, having forgotten that Eddie had said he would see him tomorrow in their call last night.

“Well you told me the other day when you were getting in, so I figured I’d pick you up, so you wouldn’t have to pay the absurd costs of an Uber to get to your place.” Eddie lightly shakes the paper bag, “and I figured you’d be hungry. Your favourite, the double choc chip muffins from that vegan bakery you like.”

“Eddie I- thank you.” He ends up saying gratefully, at a loss for words.

If Buck wasn’t already feeling that he might be in love with Eddie, he certainly was now. He probably would have denied such claims up until this moment, with this simple gesture sending him jumping off into the deep end. No one has ever done something like this for him just because they wanted to.

As they walk to Eddie’s truck in the parking lot, Buck makes the conscious decision to walk close enough that their arms brushed almost constantly. With this close proximity, he tentatively knocks his hand against Eddie’s and waits to see if Eddie pulls away, putting some distance between them. He doesn’t.

Encouraged by the lack of a negative response, Buck knocks his hand once again against Eddie’s before gently taking his hand in his own and laces their fingers together. Trying not to make a big deal out of it, he doesn’t look directly at Eddie, allowing him to accept or reject the action without it being a thing.

He sees out of the corner of his eye Eddie looking down at their joined hands before he looks away and brings Buck’s hand up to his mouth and presses a tender kiss to the back of his hand, making it clear to Buck that the feeling was mutual.

He must have let out an audible sigh of relief as they arrive at the truck, because Eddie turns to him, claiming all of his attention with a soft smile.

“I wondered when you were finally going to make a move.”

“Well I guess this was a long time coming, wasn’t it? And all it took to send me over the edge was for you to bring me muffins at the airport.” Buck says, grinning back at Eddie.

Eddie lightly presses the bag of muffins into Buck’s chest and gives his hand a little squeeze before letting go to move to the driver’s side of the truck. Buck smiles to himself before getting in, thinking that yeah, maybe the Dalai Lama was onto something.

** ** **

No matter how good his day could be, Buck can never predict what his night would bring. Tonight, it ended up being another nearly sleepless night and although it was nowhere near as bad as his last night in Austin, it still left him exhausted all the same.

When he pulls into work that morning, the parking spaces were only half full, with both Eddie and Bobby having arrived before him. And just like every other day that he’s had a nightmare beforehand, Buck throws on what he hopes is a cheerful expression and walks between the trucks like he hasn’t a care in the world.

Eddie was still in the locker room tying his shoes when he arrived and as he looks up to return his greeting, Eddie’s smile quickly turned into a small frown.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Buck asks, wiping away at non-existent crumbs that he thought might have been stuck around his lips from his quick breakfast.

Buck could see the concern brewing in Eddie’s eyes, “You had another nightmare last night, didn’t you?”

Not wanting to lie to Eddie Buck sighs and nods, letting his mask fall away, what was the point in hiding it if Eddie knew the truth anyway.  At his answer, Eddie gets up off of the bench seat and steps in close to Buck.

“I’m worried about you Buck, I thought they had gone away months ago but then you called me the other night and…” Eddie trails off, truly looking at Buck with fresh eyes and lets out a barely audible gasp, “They never stopped, did they?” Buck presses his lips together and reluctantly nods again.

“Buck, I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before.”

Buck shakes his head at Eddie, “It’s not your fault, Eddie. I tried to keep it all to myself,” He takes in a deep breath, “but I’ve realised, with some help, that I should actually talk to someone about it properly.”

“Good,” Eddie breathes out, “I’m glad.”

They stand there practically chest to chest until Eddie’s eyes widen slightly, having just noticed their close proximity, causing Buck to suppress a chuckle. They had agreed to keep whatever their relationship was under wraps until they were ready, meaning that included keeping things professional at work which of course they would do regardless of their relationship status.

Buck turns away with a smirk and quickly changes into his uniform before going to seek out Bobby, who he of course finds in the kitchen.

“Buck! Good to see you back! I take it everything is okay now?”

“Yeah but honestly, I don’t know if the trip ended up being more beneficial for them or for me. There was a lot we apparently hadn’t talked about. Actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Bobby pauses minutely before continuing with making them each a mug of coffee, “Oh?”

“I- uh, I was wondering if you could me give Frank’s number again, I can’t remember where I put the last card you gave me.”

Bobby slides Buck’s mug to him and takes a sip of his own. “Of course. Is this something I need to know about?”

Buck scratches behind his ear, “I- yes- no- probably? I’ve been having nightmares for a while now,” he admits with a grimace, might as well get it all out there, “since the ladder truck really.”

Bobby’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at that answer and he sets down his mug carefully. “I had no idea.”

Buck shrugs. “I hid it well. Not your fault.”

“Well, I’m glad you came to me. Come on, let's go to my office and I’ll get you one of his cards.”

Bobby gives him a look as he rifles through his desk drawers, “Actually, I thought this was going to be about a curious report I got from Captain Strand detailing an off duty 118 firefighter, who happened to do a rescue without any gear and got himself injured enough to warrant a trip to the hospital. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

Buck surges forward, “Bobby, I swear it’s not as bad as it sounds, I just got caught on some glass and had to get some stitches. I wouldn’t be here if it was a problem.”

Bobby gives him an assessing look as he hands him Frank’s card. “I trust you, Buck. But if I have to, I will put you on light duty just until the cuts have healed enough.” He ends up saying softly.

Nodding Buck takes the card, accepting the conditions without protest while feeling lighter with the knowledge that Bobby finally knows everything and trusts him enough to allow him to keep working.

** ** **

~ Epilogue ~

It was a few days later and Buck was just leaving his first appointment with Frank, feeling as though things might actually turn out alright when his phone rings. Surprised to see TK’s caller ID so soon, he quickly accepts the call.

“Hey TK, how’s it going? I heard you had an insane solar storm yesterday.” He says as he pushes his way through the building’s front door. His eyes seek out Eddie who had promised him to drive him to his appointment in moral support in case it didn't go well.

“Yeah Buck, I’m good. That’s actually why I’m calling.”

Seeing Eddie leaning against the side of his truck as he walks up, Buck gives him a smile before pointing to the phone and mouthing “TK” to him. “Oh yeah?”

“You were right. There was this accident and I let my instincts take over and I just reacted, helping this lady trapped in an overturned bus during the storm. Firefighting is what I want to be doing.”

“I’m happy you’ve figured it out, I knew you would.”

“And Carlos and I are finally boyfriends too, I wanted to thank you for giving me that little push.”

Buck chuckles, “That’s so great to hear!” He looks at Eddie who was watching him fondly with his warm brown eyes, “And you know what, I should be thanking you too for throwing my advice back in my face.”

“So, you finally took the risk with Eddie, huh?”

He smiles to himself and scuffs his shoe on the asphalt, “Yeah, and it was the best choice I could’ve made.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Buck. Things seem to be looking up for us.”

“Looks like it.” Buck looks down at his watch. “Hey listen, I’ve got to go, but talk soon yeah? And tell Owen I said hi.”

“Yeah, of course. Talk soon Buck.”

Buck finally hangs up the phone and gives his full attention to Eddie who had been waiting patiently for him to finish the call. He leans down and softly presses a kiss to his lips.

“Hey,” he says with a smile.

“Hey yourself,” replies Eddie, “How’d it go?” he asks as they get into the truck.

“It went surprisingly well, I think. There’s a lot of stuff for us to unpack, but I know it’ll be worth it in the long run.”

“That’s good to hear. Now, what’s say you to coming with me to pick Chris up from school?”

“I’d love to, as long as we stop to get ice cream after.” Eddie gives him a look, “What? It’s an ice cream sort of day.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at him with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now how could I say no to that.”  

Buck watches Eddie contentedly as he drives. Yeah, things were looking up alright, and he can’t wait to see where they go from here.

~ Fin ~

Tags💖: @bisexualbuck @judsonryder @buckleyevan @seaofashes @justsmilestuffhappens @benjisvictor @diazbuckleysworld @diazsbuckley @confessions-of-a-shipperholic @spell-of-the-rain @novemberhush @black-forest-girl @bluebelle88 @adamngoodbuck @overtimeme @captain--sif @rachbabe007

[virtueangel]

limitless.

chapter seven.

wc: 2,313. original publish date: october 12, 2020. 

Four-thirty-five looks like every other freeway exit in all of America. JFK pushes firmly down on the brake as the car rolls up to the white line of the intersection. There is a green sign next to the road, and oddly enough, Marshtown is marked in metallic white lettering at the bottom. Printed next to the town name is a right-turn arrow, and even smaller next to that is the number five.

"Five miles," John F. Kennedy says, grinning.

Vincent can't help smiling either. He can still feel JFK's arms wrapped around his torso and the way his chin rested on the taller boy's shoulder. "We're getting close."

"Think it'll be worth it?" John asks, glancing at his passenger.

Van Gogh shrugs. "I sure hope so."

"We've spent all this time romanticising it..." Kennedy starts.

Both boys turn to each other, giddy smiles still plastered across their faces. "Wanna do it some more?" They say in unison, breaking out into boyish giggles afterward.

"God..." Vincent mutters.

"Hm?" John hums as the light turns green. He accelerates.

"I feel like we're little kids again," he says in a sad voice, but the smile is still taught across his lips and Kennedy doesn't know which look to meet his gaze with.

"We were pretty fucking awesome as kids," he tries.

This earns him a grin from Van Gogh. Score. "Yeah. I was cool back then."

John knocks his best friend's arm playfully. "You're still cool, Minivan."

Van Gogh covers his eyes with his hand, mock repulsion surfing the waves of his voice. "God, don't remind me of that nickname!"

"Hey! I might've meant to antagonise you back then, but I promise you: I've changed."

Vincent shakes his head, but he can't help smiling. His cheeks are starting to ache, but his happiness is genuine. "Oh, I know you have. That little five-year-old didn't know how to -- how do you put it? -- 'bang the sweeties'."

Kennedy laughs. "Oh, believe me -- he did."

The car goes silent as the sky fills with fog. It's thick and grey and the windows of the shiny red convertible are already starting to precipitate. Vincent zips his letterman jacket all the way up and tucks his chin into the collar, the cold already starting to set in. Even John has to admit that his knuckles clamp up and go a little white against the steering wheel.

"We must be getting close," Vincent says. The sky hadn't been blue for the earlier part of their drive by any means, but even the clouds that hung in the sky let the faintest bit of sunlight filter through. Now there is a dense blanket of moisture blocking the rays from view.

John goes quiet, suddenly wishing they'd planned the trip. He worries that he'll get in another fight with Van Gogh over where to sleep or how they'll keep themselves entertained in this town that they know next to nothing about. They aren't even sure if it has a marsh or not. But most of all, he fears that Vincent will get cold in the fog or the air will be too wet for him to draw. Part of the reason Kennedy had even vouched for this trip was so that the boy would have a lot of inspiration to paint or sketch or read or write, because above all, John loves his best friend's poetry. But he doesn't know how to tell the boy any of that.

Van Gogh looks across the car as Kennedy starts to drive more defensively, and his brow furrows; not in disgust, but in worry. He notices the boy's white knuckles and the way he grips the steering wheel like he's trying to strangle it. He reaches out and places a hand on his best friend's forearm, rubbing him through the sleeve of his jacket slowly and comfortingly.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

John swallows. "Sorry. Nothing, sorry. Don't worry. I'm okay."

Van Gogh's worried gaze lingers. "Are you sure?"

Kennedy gives his best friend a smile and a nod, but the motion is only half convincing. Vincent sighs and turns away anyway, not sure if he's allowed to push.

A couple seconds of silence pass before Kennedy requests timidly, "Can you, uh, keep doing that? With your hand, on my arm? It feels kinda nice." He laughs at himself sheepishly.

Van Gogh smiles to himself and obliges, happy to keep touching the boy. Er, uh, that came out wrong! He thinks. I'm just doing a good thing for him. Just trying to calm him down. He banishes the first thought, convincing himself that this is an uncomplicated act of kindness that he's doing for his best friend. He'd do anything for Kennedy, right?

Vincent stops rubbing the boy's arm and squeezes instead. With a gasp, he points out the windshield. "John, look!"

In front of them is the Marshtown sign, a yellowish-beige rectangle with dark green trim and text. It's an ugly sign, Van Gogh has to admit; especially from an artist's perspective. It's dilapidated and sinking into the ground, parts of some of the letters missing and splintering. The population number has been knocked off but the word "population" itself is still intact. There is no "welcome" or cheesy slogan. The boys can barely see the road beyond the sign, because the fog seems to have thickened since entering the town.

"Vincent, it's-"

Both boys stare into the fog, jaws dropped and pupils dilated. They are at a loss for words and almost a loss for breath. The road turns into a bridge, and on either side is a marsh, wet and gooey with coarse grass shooting out of it in various locations. The cement is covered in puddles and John slows down the car to ten miles per hour, squinting to see through the fog.

Beyond the marsh is a town. Not much of one, but it's there nonetheless. Every building and house is falling apart -- some are burned down to the foundation, others are missing doors and windows and from what Van Gogh can see, some of them are without floors as well. There is a dense ring of pine trees around the houses and they seem to stretch forever, but then again, John and Vincent have limited vision due to the intrusive fog. Each house looks different, and not just the way they're destroyed; the floor plans are unique, with different finishes and dimensions.

To their left is a general store. It's more intact than most of the houses, but its door is hanging off the hinges and there's a gaping hole in the middle of the wooden stoop. There's a sign on the door, flipped to the "open" side. Van Gogh wonders if some teenager had come by to flip it in their day of mischief or if there's someone in this ghost town to manage the shop.

With all of its lichened and weathered wood, Marshtown looks like a summer camp location. Neither John nor Vincent had spent their summers shipped off into the arms of overenthusiastic counsellors to go swimming and hiking, but they've seen enough cliché coming-of-age movies to know what a good old fashioned American summer camp experience should look like.

"I love it," Van Gogh blurts, eyes fixed out the window.

Kennedy grins. "It's incredible."

Vincent turns away from the limited outside view to look at his best friend's side profile. "I want to live here."

John's smile widens. "Okay."

"No, I mean it."

"I know you do," he meets Vincent's glare. "I do too."

Both boys seem to realise at the same time that Van Gogh is still gripping the taller boy's arm, and he lowers his hand sheepishly without a word.

"Do you think anyone still lives here?"

JFK squints at the houses, looking for cars or intact doors. "No," he concludes.

Van Gogh smiles to himself. "So we've got the whole place to ourselves, huh?"

Kennedy's stomach somersaults and his breath catches in his throat, his jaw suddenly going slack. "It would appear so," he swallows.

Vincent doesn't seem to register the boy's off-kilter tone. "Ooh, you know what?"

"Hm?"

"We should locate the creepiest house and stay in it."

Kennedy chuckles. "Vincent, some of the houses don't even have roofs."

"Perfect for stargazing."

JFK laughs even harder. "We can barely see six feet ahead of us!"

"So we'll pretend. Make up our own constellations."

Kennedy and Van Gogh make eye contact, and the shorter boy's deep brown gaze burrows itself into JFK's soul. He feels it snaking around his heart and making its home in his stomach. His cheeks seem to smile themselves.

"Okay. I'll play along."

Van Gogh leans back in his seat, satisfied. His hands shake, and he can't tell if it's due to nervousness or excitement. They are, after all, the same emotion -- the only difference is how they're interpreted by the subconscious.

"Try that one," he says after a couple minutes, pointing to a two-story Spanish style house finished in yellow stucco. It stands out from all the other developments, and not just because of the material it's made out of. It's almost perfectly intact, complete with a bay window and a second-floor balcony. It has a few imperfections, probably due to lack of maintenance. There are deep cracks carved into the outer walls and the paint on the door is chipping. Some of the upstairs windows have shatters blossoming in them, fanning out across the glass like spiderwebs. Van Gogh knows this is the right place to stay.

Kennedy redirects the car off the road and into the driveway of the house. The lawn is splotchy and has more mud and puddles than grass. The plants that actually grow there are clearly invasive: coarse wheat-like sprouts and greying succulents. The succulents are definitely artificial -- Van Gogh knows nothing of the sort could prosper on marshland.

"Why this one?" Kennedy asks, just for the sake of conversation. He parks the car in the driveway and slides the keys out of the ignition. He unbuckles his seatbelt, but makes no move to exit the car. He sits back in his seat, moving his feet away from the pedals and turning his knees toward Van Gogh. The shorter boy unbuckles his seatbelt and turns his own knees toward the driver, his letterman jacket still zipped snugly up to his neck.

"Because it looks special."

"You can do better than that."

Vincent sighs and looks away from Kennedy, thinking about his answer and choosing words from his lexicon wisely. "It looks like a home and not just a house."

"But you don't know anything about it," JFK challenges, and he wonders if he's crossed the line into the asshole realm.

Van Gogh smiles, thankfully amused by the comment instead of annoyed. "Let me tell you something, John: when you're an artist, you start to look at everything like a piece of art. It kind of sucks sometimes. I can't read books without thinking about the edits I'd give to the author. It ruins the fun a little bit."

JFK reaches out, not quite sure what he's intending to do with his outstretched arm. He lays a palm on Vincent's shoulder awkwardly, guessing he's in too deep to retreat his arm without any contact at all. "But I like the way your artist brain works," he says, and it feels like an admission instead of a conversation volley.

Vincent smiles down at his lap, flattered. When he looks back up at Kennedy, he can see that his best friend's cheeks are pink. "I want to know this house's story," he adds.

Kennedy smiles affectionately, staring down at the boy with soft eyes. "So what are you waiting for?"

Vincent opens his car door, and immediately the thick fog wets his tongue. He opens his mouth, half expecting a snowflake to dance down from the sky and land in his mouth. But while it's dark and gloomy here in Marshtown, it isn't April winter like it is in Exclamation!. For a fraction of a second, he misses the city's name on his mind. He shoves the thought away, hoping it will dissolve on its own.

JFK and Van Gogh walk up the driveway to the house side by side. They climb the three brick steps to the porch in unison, John slowing down for Vincent the way he always does. He sneaks a glance at his best friend, still staring at him with the same cloudy eyes.

"Oh, shit, moment of truth," Van Gogh says, taking the door handle in his hand. He looks back at his best friend, who is standing with his hands shoved into the pockets of his khakis.

"What do we do if it's locked?" Kennedy asks, which he knows is a stupid question.

Vincent shrugs, but there's no disappointment or angst frozen behind his features. "We'll find out." He squeezes down on the handle and the mechanism clicks. He slowly pushes the door open, suddenly worried there will be someone inside.

The first room in the house is the kitchen, a beige tiled floor meeting his shoes as Vincent steps inside. To his pleasant surprise, there's no grime crusted into the tiling, no spider nests burrowed into the corners of the room. Grey, foggy light spills in from the bay window, washing the room a drowsy white. Everything seems to shine, even in the permanent dreariness of Marshtown.

"You were right, Vincent," Kennedy says, and he doesn't need  to see the rest of the house to know it's true.

Vincent turns around to face the boy, a genuine smile sitting lazily across his lips. "Haven't you learned not to doubt me?"

John steps forward and wraps his best friend in a hug, resting his chin on Vincent's head without a second thought. "I'm still learning, Minivan."

Into his chest, Van Gogh mumbles, "I hate it when you call me that."

[bensonalick]

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[megbox]

2020 Year in Review

Previous Posts: (2019) (2018) (2017) (2016) (2015) (2014) (2013) (2012) (2011) 

2020 is a weird year because as the world goes through something collectively extremely traumatic and that is radically changing the structure of our lives, our workplaces, the way we connect socially, our mental health… our response to disease…. SO MUCH ABOUT THE WORLD…. And yet the day-to-day of living in a pandemic is so… mundane. I am privileged enough to have that opinion. I have stayed securely employed and it is privilege for my main reaction to something as intense as this pandemic to be boredom. But really, 2020 was a year of absences. It was a year spent largely alone, in my own company. It was a year that forced me to rest. It was a year that made me feel so terribly lonely but also forced me to get acquainted with myself and enjoy my own company in a new way. And it was a year of running. 

I would also like to thank Connor for making this post happen by reminding me to do it and not to break tradition. 

January & February 

I am combining these months because they were not altogether all that memorable. My resolutions, as I noted on Twitter on January 2, were to 1) Keep running and 2) Learn how to make fresh pasta dough. I can safely say – mission accomplished on both fronts. 

On January 14, I had the privilege of presenting a suicide intervention lecture to students at the medical school where my brother goes. By that time, I’d done a million of these presentations so nerves aren’t really a factor (imagine that! Me, no longer remotely afraid of public speaking…), but this one meant a little extra to me. My brother is so highly accomplished, and I am so proud of him, and I enjoyed having an opportunity to show him what I do and make him proud of me. I wore my favourite dress and did my hair all nice and he described it later as “exceptional.” It was a really, really good feeling. The first weekend of February, Ali and I had planned to go to Jasper. We wanted to go for a hike or two, and get super stoned and go to the planetarium. A huge blizzard hit Alberta just before we were supposed to leave, so we ended up having a staycation here in Calgary. We rented a hotel room, went swimming, drank wine, went to Japanese Village, had drinks in the lounge and then later to a punk rock band roulette night at the Palomino and finally crawled into our giant hotel bed and fell asleep to Remember the Titans… of all movies. It was the kind of night where you simultaneously feel 18 and 35 years old. 

March 

March was when the pandemic really started to become real. I don’t know exactly why, but I did not take the threat of coronavirus very seriously until the last minute. My coworkers would whisper about it in the hallways and I just rolled my eyes. But then, people started deciding they would work from home, the number of us in the office dwindled. The vibe was bad. Nobody could really focus. They held meetings at 8am and 4pm every day just for COVID-19 updates and we all waited with bated breath for them to finally tell us to go home and not come back. I really feel like I didn’t acknowledge the true implications of this virus until we got the official work from home order, and I had to tell my boss, my laptop at home is too old to run this software, I need a work tablet. My first official work from home day was March 23, 2020. I don’t remember much about that time except that the general sense of panic and anxiety made my job a lot busier, and it is hard to do a job like mine from home because it is hard to counsel or reassure clients through anxieties that are hitting you just as hard. I coped with wine, a lot of running, and listening to Ben Gibbard’s afternoon live streams where he would play acoustic versions of Death Cab songs and other covers. He played New Slang by the Shins one night and I burst into tears. I also coped with teaching myself how to make fresh pasta dough, and enjoying what was, at that point in the pandemic, the novelty and fun of Zoom. 

April 

In the absence of being able to have a party for my birthday, I decided to be obnoxious and do a “challenge” on my Instagram story. I asked my friends to record a distance run and/or walked and send it to me as a birthday present. My actual birthday ended up being a cold and windy and pretty miserable day. I ran 12km myself, came back home and watched both Magic Mike and Magic Mike XXL, and then went to my parents’ to celebrate both Scott and I’s birthdays with our family. My friends dropped off presents to my door and drove past my house and honked and I felt very loved and appreciated. I drank a lot of Prosecco with my brother and we listened to Kacey Musgraves. 

It was also in April that I become “acquainted” with my neighborhood running nemesis. I put acquainted in apostrophes because I have never actually spoken to him. On one fateful run in April, I happened to catch up to him on my regular route. This was at the height of the COVID fear and so, while I would usually just pass someone on the sidewalk, I went out into the street. He saw me out of the corner of his eye and SPED UP. WHICH IS SUCH BAD RUNNER ETIQUETTE LIKE DUDE I’M IN THE ROAD LET ME PASS YOU. And then we ended up in this like, all-out 100m-finals-at-the-motherfucking-Olympics sprint challenge when all I was trying to do was go for a leisurely training run. And then I finally passed him, turned a corner and had to like collapse on to my hands and knees to catch my breath. Since then, I see this man running all the time. Sometimes while I am also running, sometimes from my car when I am driving through my neighborhood. He’s like… 16. And we are very competitive with one another. I hope to one day actually say hello to him. I both hate that guy and have to thank him for the motivation. 

I ran my first half marathon on April 13, 2020. I was very hungover because I had stayed up quite late with someone on Zoom the night before on a virtual “first date” that had gone much better than anticipated. I don’t know why but I woke up the next morning in such a good mood that I decided I would go for a long, slow run. I got to 18km and figured, what’s 3.1 more? And so, I did it. The first thing I did upon finishing was call my mom. The second thing I did was contemplate calling an Uber to drive me the 2km left to my house. The other notable thing in April is that Maddy moved back from Australia, begrudgingly and a LOT earlier than planned, because of COVID. 

May

May was kind of a blur. It was the first month of the Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee, which I signed up for while coming off of the high of actually running a half marathon all by myself. The GVRAT was fucking awesome. It was created by Lazarus Lake, of Barkley Marathons fame. The ask is to run 1022.68km between May 1 and August 31, an average of about 8.3km per day. Well, you could run, walk, or hike. This is the actual distance it would take you to cover the state of Tennessee. Myself and about 20,000 other weirdos from around the world signed up for this challenge. I figured I would never get a chance to run in a Lazarus Lake race for real, and being home all the time opened up a lot more opportunity for training. It was one of the very best things I did for myself in 2020. So May involved a lot of running, because I was fresh and naïve and fully intended to be ahead of the curve. I was running about 10-12 per day, sometimes more, and not taking any rest days. 

In between these runs, I spent a lot of time going on long, ambling quarantine walks with Maddy. We would either go for a long walk or she would come over and we would get absolutely hammered in my backyard playing beer pong just to pass the time. We would send snapchats to our exes and make TikToks like 18 year olds. I know we never really said it out loud but having eachother during this time made these months bearable. We were lamenting the loss of a summer, and Maddy’s time in Australia, and all of the expectations we had for ourselves. We were watching our friends in relationships move in together or get closer due to the quarantine. We needed companionship, and stupid things to laugh about, and love, and distraction. And I can genuinely say I would not have gotten through this quarantine period if it weren’t for the nights I spent shooting Pink Whitney and dancing to Party in the USA in my living room with her. 

May 13th was my one year anniversary of working at the university. It felt good to have accomplished so many things in that time, and have moved up already in my job, and to have a full-time, permanent contract.

And May 16th was when I ran my second half-marathon as part of a virtual challenge put on by a friend of a friend. My parents came and sat in lawn chairs in the park while I did loops. They cheered me on and filled my water bottle for me when I ran out. They’re my number one supporters and I love having a family that does that kind of shit for me in the face of something arbitrary like a virtual half marathon challenge. I knocked 7 minutes (!) off my original time. Amazing what not being hungover can do for your fitness levels. 

June 

I don’t remember many important things about June, other than Maddy moving to Banff. It was depressing but I was also happy for her and happy to have an excuse to go out there and visit. I went the very first weekend after she moved. Halfway through June I seriously contemplated quitting the GVRAT. My shins were bruised, I was dreading every single run, and I could not fathom doing it for 2.5 more months. I was dragging behind in the standings and losing my motivation. 

I spent a lot of time with friends reading in parks. Sometimes, often, with wine. I met a stranger in Canmore Park and ended up kissing him. He was lovely. 

Ali and I had one really good day in June where we went to the Farmer’s Market and then came back to her place and watched Ru Paul’s drag race for like eight straight hours. It was one of those days where we hadn’t seen each other in so long and you just feel totally high off of friendship and absolutely everything is funny and you just can’t stop laughing. I vividly remember it as one of the best days of the year. 

July

Again, July kind of passed in a blur. I did a lot of hiking, and a lot of running… keeping up with the GVRAT. I hiked Picklejar Lakes, Castle Mountain, Little Beehive Lookout. 

I went to Banff for a weekend to hang out with Maddy. We had a predictably wild weekend with her roommates and friends. We had dinner at Chili’s (hell yeah) and then went to High Rollers for beers and bowling. The “thing to do” at that point for all of these Banff people was to meet at the “rec grounds” aka public firepits and drink. The police would generally leave you alone so long as you weren’t being rowdy. I sat next to an Australian named Josh at a picnic table and later took him back to my hotel room and he gave me the world’s most unbelievable obvious hickey. Maddy and I sweat out the tequila shots the next day with a long ass hike, and then had a nap before her brother came and took us climbing at the Sunshine slabs – an activity I was not very good at but I wanted to be good at. It was the kind of weekend where you feel like, okay, I definitely indulged my wild side. And you drive home just like totally exhausted but smiling. I sent Maddy’s brother a voice note on my way into town thanking him for taking us climbing and saying it was nice to see him.

August

Okay – August was actually really eventful. Like most of the year’s events happened in August, honestly. A lot of running and hiking. I did Ha Ling Peak for the first time, and we did a 30km hike to Aylmer Pass one day that was a fricken GRIND. I spent the long weekend in Saskatchewan. We went to a cidery, and I ran laps around my Dodo’s acreage, and then we got to visit Wakaw Lake and reunite with our old next-door neighbours. We took the boat out and went tubing and lit fireworks and had an amazing dinner and honestly it was like reliving my childhood in the best, best, best way. I fell asleep on the car ride home. 

I went camping with Ali in Sylvan Lake. We got ice cream and cooked fish tacos over the campfire. She told me that Cody had a date planned for the day they took possession of their house, that she wondered if he might ask her to marry him but didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it didn’t happen and ruin what otherwise was supposed to be a celebratory day. Spoiler – he did ask her to marry him  I was running when she called me. I was listening to Epsilon by Kygo, and now when I hear that song I always think of them. I stopped my watch and just openly bawled on the street out of happiness for them. 

Steven successfully defended his master’s thesis. We went camping in Waterton to celebrate with Matt, Kennedy, Regan, Scott, and Rie. They brought cake. We did a sunrise hike. I slept in the back of my Ford Escape. 

On August 27, Ollie passed away. It was both expected and unexpected. He had been having some issues with seizures. The vet didn’t think it was anything to be too concerned about, he was old and it wasn’t uncommon for them to happen. It happened suddenly. I had a terrible sleep that night, and woke up in a cold sweat somewhere between 3 and 4 am. In the morning, my mom called me and told me the news. He had a giant seizure in the night and was crying and yelping. They woke up and took him to the emergency vet, they made the executive call to put him down to prevent any further suffering. He died right around the time I woke up in the middle of the night. I like to think that was his way of saying goodbye, maybe. I cried all day. Well, let’s be honest, I cried all week. I burst into tears at the mere thought of him. He was such a good and lovely dog. He was so loved by us. He had a good life. It is always sad when we lose pets so early. They bring so much joy to our lives, and still when I go to my parents’ place the first thing I want to do is call for him or pet him. I hope he is running around in whatever the pet afterlife is. I miss him. 

And on August 31, I ran my last kilometre of the GVRAT. I finished with 733.78 run, 83.18 hiked, and 205.09 walked. 

September

September was a nice break from running. I got to start coming to campus one day a week, on Thursdays, which was good for my mental health and work productivity. I got to spend September long in Vernon with Maeghan and Madison at Michael’s family’s cabin. They took us boating and made us meals and didn’t judge us for drinking margaritas with Michael’s sister literally all day. It was the best. It was the epitome of every summer weekend you dream about. I was so happy I got to go. 

I met a boy in September. It’s always September, isn’t it? It feels weird to write about him. Like, that makes him significant. But. He is significant. And I met him in September. And it was unexpected. Last minute. And essentially not a day has gone by since that day in September that I have not thought about him.

I also joined a Calgary Sport and Social Club team with my friends for softball and it started in September. We played two games and then I tore my hamstring running from second to third base. I tore… my hamstring…. Running like 30 metres…. After a summer of literally running 10+ km every day. I… it was the worst day ever. Softball itself was amazing and so fun even though I really do suck at the sport but highly recommend Rec League C-level beer league softball with all of your best friends. There’s just no way that isn’t fun. 

October 

A lot of pouting about my hamstring, I went to two physio sessions and then decided to just start running again. I’m bad. I’m a bad example. Don’t do what I do… but also…. It worked. 

I went to Victoria to visit Sydney over the Thanksgiving weekend. We went to a Thanskgiving potluck party at my old coworker’s place. It was a nice experience to be the new people at a party, to have a room full of new people to meet and who ask you questions about your life. We got really drunk and they tried setting Sydney up with one of their roommate’s brothers, and gave us lipstick to try, and poured us tequila shots. We had such an amazing meal. It was honestly so fun. We laughed in the cab the whole way back about how we were going to need to debrief that evening HARD the next morning. We watched a lot of All Gas No Brakes, and went for dinner and brunch and I limped up Mount Doug with my hamstring. It was a very very chill weekend, like we spent a lot of time just lounging at Sydney’s apartment and doing nothing. Because that is the kind of friends we are. It was so relaxing and lovely. I was sad to leave. 

Karla, my roommate, left for New York at the end of October. Her aunt was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and she and her mom made the executive move to go there to basically be with her for the end of her life. She wasn’t going to be back until December. I was happy, because it’s nice to have a place to myself, but also sad because Karla is lovely and I knew it was going to be a stressful situation for her. 

November / December

I am combining these two months because they have also been largely uneventful. In fact… I don’t know if I could really tell you anything significant that happened. We’ve been in a lockdown. I’ve spent my time playing piano, watching Netflix, listening to podcasts, basically doing all of the things I usually do when I’m bored. Lots of Among Us. Lots of outdoor things… skating… more running. We’ve been in a lockdown since early December. Time has dragged on since then. I spent Christmas with my parents. Scott and Rie stayed isolated, because Scott is in and out of the hospital for school. My mom and I watched shitty Christmas Hallmark movies and made fun of the guys who star in them. We drank a LOT on Christmas Eve and both spent Christmas with a wicked hangover. My dad and I ate edibles and I was launched into the stratosphere. I spent New Year’s Eve with Boy from September. We played beer pong, and card games, and he tried to use a coat hangover to pick the lock on the mysterious room that my landlord keeps locked. We spent most of the night kissing, honestly. I was happy to spend the last moments of the year with him.

2021: 

Honestly... at this point... who really knows? 

[hopecountysfavhoe]

‘Cold’ Chapter Four

Word Count: 2,577

TW: Arguing, light whump, blood, course language, 

    They hiked in silence, neither one of them wanting to argue. The Deputy didn't say anything but she could lay on the floor in the middle of the cabin (or really just anywhere) and sleep for the next 12 hours. Her legs were shaking from the exertion and her hands were basically only being held up by her fingers being hooked in her pack's straps. Jacob could tell she was tired but he was expecting that. He would slow down for her as they walked, pretending that he was listening for something in the wind.

    The Deputy never caught onto what he was doing but she was glad that he wasn't going at full speed. She figured it was because his shoulder was hurting him. He'd covered it up with his torn winter jacket, shoving the outside flap of material inside the hole to try and seal some heat in.

    When they got to the steep hill the Deputy remembered why she'd tried to take the river. It really was a steep hill. Her breath was ragged but she pressed on, using her hands and arms as supports in the snow to pull herself up. Jacob helped by grabbing a fistful of her jacket and pulling her along with him until they reached the top.

    The Deputy accepted his help, not gladly but she was relieved that he was there. The sky was darkening and the fast wind turned into thick, slow falling snow. Massive snowflakes dotted the Deputy's vision obscuring her view of the glowing cabin lights. It was getting dark, which meant that the trail leading to the cabin was getting even harder to see. Jacob walked closer to the Deputy, looking over his shoulder to make sure she was right behind him and not going the wrong way.

    The cold was seeping through their gloves, prickling the tips of their fingers as they tried to keep their hands warm. "Look Deputy, the cabin is just right there." Jacob said and the Deputy didn't respond. She only nodded her head and kept walking.

    The last little hill before they snuck down into the small dip the house was built in seemed like the hardest one yet. The fresh snow was stacking up on top of the old snow, meaning that it was getting deeper, and when fresh snow stacks on top of old snow it gets heavier and harder to walk through. Jacob plowed ahead, his trail proved a lot easier for the Deputy to walk through seeing as most of the snow was knocked down, but she tried to make her own trail up the hill to get more traction in the snow.

    The hill couldn't have been more that 15 feet but it felt like Everest. Every time the deputy broke through the snow she got a little closer, but it took so much effort it zapped the small reserve tank of energy she'd been dipping into all day. At the peak of the hill, Jacob grabbed her under her arm, pulling her over the top of the hill. She mumbled a thank you but couldn't say much else. Jacob didn't let go of her arm until they reached the door of the cabin.

    Jacob opening the door and stepping through into the warmth of the tiny cabin was the most amazing thing the Deputy had ever felt. She stumbled over her clunky boots and peeled off her hat. Taking off her pack, jacket, and boots was like dropping a 50 pound weight off the Deputy's shoulders, it was a glorious feeling. They both got undressed down to their base layers and hung their guns on the wall, dragging their snow clothes over to the fire. The Deputy sat on the couch, her body knew that it wasn't going to be moving again soon and it was pleased. Jacob added a couple pieces of wood on to the fire and sunk into his chair.

    Jacob grabbed the medikit off the coffee table and took out some of the sterilizer he used on the Deputy's wound. He poured some onto a towel and cleaned his torn shoulder, wincing at the sharp pain.

    "Thanks for finding me. If you hadn't been there then..." The Deputy trailed off and looked over at Jacob as he dabbed the towel across his shoulder, it quickly turned red with blood. "Let me help." She said and leaned forward.

    "You can't even stand." He reminded her and the Deputy made a face.

    "Then come over here, it's the least I can do, I mean you did take on a pack of wolves for me." The Deputy motioned for Jacob to sit next to her on the couch. Jacob pondered it for a moment before deciding he had nothing to lose. He lifted himself out of the chair and picked up the medikit. He sat down on the couch, turning his back to her.

    "You're going to have to take off the shirt." The Deputy said.

    "No."

    "Then be prepared for me to accidentally stitch the fabric into your skin." The Deputy said and Jacob let out a sigh.

    "Fine." He grumbled, peeling the shirt off and raising it over his head. He held the shirt in his hands, the Deputy could feel how uncomfortable he was. The amount of scars he had shocked her. His entire back was littered with burns and healed bullet wounds. It looked like a battlefield. The Deputy realized she was staring and got a fresh towel with sterilizer.

    "You have a lot of scars." She blurted out while pressing the towel into Jacob's shoulder. There was no way to avoid touching his bare skin, not if she wanted to fix him.

    "Yeah." Jacob grumbled.

    "But you don't have any sin tattoos."

    "I don't let John anywhere near me with that fucking thing." He said, not really enjoying making this conversation. He'd already seen her tattoo, the large 'Wrath' stamped right on her chest.

    "So...he didn't force you to atone?" The Deputy asked in almost a meek voice.

    Jacob paused, glancing at his shoulder. "John may have some pull with Joseph, but I'm stronger than he is in a fight." He put simply, trying to avoid looking at the Deputy.

    "Can I have the needle and thread?" She asked, holding her hand over his shoulder. Jacob handed her the spool of thread and the needle, closing the medikit. "This is going to hurt." The Deputy warned and Jacob just breathed.

    "It's fine, don't try to be gentle." He grit his teeth and waited. The Deputy poked the thread through the needle and pushed the torn skin together with her hand. Carefully she began stitching, trying to make it look neat. It was difficult to push into Jacob's muscular shoulder but the Deputy managed.

    As she stitched, they both became silent. But Jacob broke the silence. "Why did you try to leave?" He asked her, firmly holding onto the medikit.

    "I told you, I thought I could make it."

    "You were exhausted, you could barely stand up to put wood on the fire, why would you think you could make it?" Jacob asked, the irritation in his voice becoming more prevalent as he spoke.

    The Deputy paused before continuing to stitch. "I don't know."

    "Yes you do."

    "I guess, I was scared." She said, finishing the last sitch. She cut the thread and handed him back the needle and thread. "Ointment and bandages." She asked and Jacob handed them to her.

    "What were you scared of?" He asked her. She didn't say anything because she didn't know how to respond. Cold and distant and just lie? Could she tell him the truth? She wasn't sure, and while she was busy not being sure Jacob came to the answer himself. "Were you scared of me?" He used a gentler tone, turning his head so that he could see the Deputy.

    "Maybe, I'm not really sure." The Deputy tiptoed around the real answer. Which is that she was a little scared of him. Every time she or somebody else has made him angry they usually wind up dead. So far she's been able to escape him and his anger but now she was stuck with him, alone. The Deputy didn't say anything, she only rubbed the ointment on his stitches and placed a bandage over it.

    "Do you have any Ace bandages? I don't think this bandage will be enough." The Deputy asked, studying his shoulder. Jacob stood up, walking around the couch and over to the cabinets. He pulled out a thick round of long bandages and brought them back to the couch.

    Jacob was wary of sitting down but the Deputy gave him a look that forced him too. The Deputy took the Ace bandage and wrapped his arm, being careful not to make it too tight. "There you go." She said and cut the end of the bandage with scissors.

    Jacob got off the couch, grabbing the used towels and bandage roll to bring to the cabinet. The Deputy put the supplies back in the medikit and closed it on the coffee table. She looked back out at the window, wondering if her friends would be worried about her. She was sure they were at least concerned, but part of her hoped that they wouldn't come looking for her. She had no idea how to explain this situation to them.

    Jacob appeared again, now wearing a different shirt and pants. The Deputy was already dozing off, her arms folded over her chest with her head leaning back into the couch.

    "Deputy." Jacob said her name and the Deputy jolted awake.

    "I'm up." She said, clearly not 'up'.

    "You need to eat, it'll help you get your energy back." He said and fetched another two cans of soup.

    He handed her an open can and a spoon. "I've got to ask, is this all you eat?" The Deputy asked, poking the soup with the spoon.

    "This is my emergency food. And yes, I do eat it a lot."

    "But do you enjoy it?"

    "Food is food, this can will give me the same protein anything else will." Jacob shrugged and looked back to his own can.

    The Deputy was quiet. She knew that if she pushed too hard then Jacob would most likely get upset again. But she was dying with curiosity. "Do you ever heat it up?" Jacob let out a huff and got up, taking the can from her hands. The Deputy protested until she saw what he was doing. He set the can on the rock of the fireplace, almost all the way in the fire.

    "It'll be warm in a few minutes." He stated and sat back down in his chair.

    "Oh uh, thanks." The Deputy was a little taken aback, and she didn't know how to respond. They sat in silence, Jacob eating while the Deputy watched the fire, waiting for some nice warm soup.

    "So...do you come up here often?" The Deputy asked, uncomfortable with the prolonged silence.

    "As often as I can. I haven't in a while though with you bombing all my wolf calls." He got in a dig but the Deputy let it roll off.

    "I was just wondering why you don't have a bed, I mean most old cabins have a bed." She said, getting nosy.

    Jacob motioned to the couch. "That's a bed."

    "What do you mean?"

    "It's a fold out couch, which means that it turns into a bed."

    "Then why did you sleep on that chair all of last night?" The Deputy asked, Jacob gave her an expression that said she was clearly stupid.

    "You're on the couch, I'm fine in the chair." He went back to his soup and the Deputy shook her head.

    "Tonight we're turning it into a bed." She stated and Jacob let out a stressed noise.

    "Not happening."

    "Jacob, you shouldn't have to sleep on a chair in your own cabin. We don't have to face each other, we can face the wall." The Deputy wore him down, although she really didn't know why. After all of those nights rotting in his cages maybe a couple nights on a stiff chair was what he needed.

    "You're really not going to let this go are you?" He asked, making eye contact with her as she nodded. He got out of his chair and walked back over to the fire, grabbing her soup out of the ashes. With a quick brush of his fingers the ash clinging to the can fell back into the fire. He brought the can over to the Deputy, holding it out for her to take.

    "I'll fold it out after you finish eating." He finally agreed and the Deputy accepted the soup gladly.

     "Thank you." She said and adjusted her fingers on the hot can. The metal was hot on her fingers, causing a slight burning sensation every time she squeezed it too hard. The soup was much better warm. So much better.

    When they both finished the soup, Jacob got the wobbly Deputy to stand up while he folded the couch out. Resting was dangerous as the Deputy was quick to discover, because it made her feel stronger than she actually was. But even standing for the quick five minutes it took for Jacob to move the coffee table out of the way and slide the couch back was a harsh reminder that she wasn't very recovered yet.

    Jacob moved the couch cushions and folded the couch outward. The sheets and thin cover were still on the bed, almost perfectly made. He walked over to the cabinet by the dresser and pulled out two floppy pillows. He motioned to the bed with a nod, telling the Deputy she could sit down.

    "It's a little dusty but it should get the job done." He said and set the blankets at the end of the bed.

    "Well I've slept on worse." The Deputy said, it's possible there was a small dig in their somewhere.

    When she sat on the bed it creaked loudly and dipped under her weight. She got in on the right side of the bed, prying up the tightly made sheets with her slightly jittery hands. She laid her blanket over top of her, now she'd be plenty warm all night long. Jacob got in on the left side of the bed, slipping off his boots before pulling the covers over him. He gave the sheets a quick kick upwards, freeing them from the folded corner so that they didn't press against his feet.

    "Let's go to bed now," Jacob said, "and actually go to sleep. This ain't a sleepover so no talking." He looked over at the Deputy who nodded and rolled away from him. He laid his arms on his stomach and closed his eyes. He wasn't quick to fall asleep though, he waited until the Deputy's breathing evened out and fell asleep.

    He rubbed a hand over his face, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. That Deputy was infuriating, with the soup and with the bed, but he guessed she was right. The soup is better warmed and the bed was much more comfortable than the chair but still the suggestions came from her, so it was infuriating. Eventually Jacob fell asleep, still in the same position as when he laid down.

[malgal7777]

Hiking with Tracy 2021:  Put it on the board...YES!

I did it!!!!   Woo-Hoo!  I walked 100 miles - almost in the whole month of April.  Since the last weekend of April was a bit of a snow bust, I had to finish my 100 miles this past weekend 5/1-5/2!  And what a way to finish...

I was feeling defeated last week when I wasn’t able to complete the 100 miles up in Tahoe.  I ended up being 17 miles short!  Can you believe that?  17 miles!! And I have a friend, let’s just call him “Barry” who was going to give me the whole $1000 if I was able to do it.  So I really felt down knowing I had blown it.  Blown all that training and blown it for the Ride4Reason fundraiser.  But “Barry” said hey, finish it up this weekend and you’re still in the running.  So I went back to the drawing board to find another route that would push me over the finish line.  But it was Bob who suggested I hike San Francisco.  AND, if I hiked SF, he would be encouraged to join me.  Bob’s a city slicker.  If he goes too far from being able to purchase a newspaper out of a metal box, he gets hives.  So, we mapped out a 10-12 mile route (I had to go easy on the guy) starting from the Ferry Building and walking the circumference of the SF peninsula to Ocean Beach.  It was FAN-TAS-TIC!  WOW.  Just WOW. 

We started at Justin Herman Plaza and since it was May Day we were hoping to find a rally or march happening.  And in perfect SF fashion, we were not disappointed!  Sure enough a large rally was gearing up to head down Market.  I’m going to assume the march was for workers rights, but it was actually unclear to us what their message was.  Not a good sign for a march/rally!

This first stretch of The Embarcadero was a bit sad.  Covid and the lockdowns have definitely taken their toll.  I know it was early and a weekend, but a lot of these businesses are still shuttered and closed.  And there’s a couple of homeless encampments taking over the street car kiosks.  The homeless.  Sooner or later I have to go there.  I can spout my love for California all I want, but it’s California’s biggest shame.  It’s no longer a skeleton in the closet, it’s all out in the open for all to see.  And I have no answer for it.  It’s always been here, since I’ve been here.  And it definitely has gotten A LOT worse within the past 10 years.  And it’s not just one issue, it’s the perfect storm of multiple issues coming together:  not enough affordable housing;  not enough livable wages; mental instability; drug addiction; nomad living lifestyle - yes that’s a thing.  I don’t think California is doing nothing.  There’s just too many people.  And you can’t just throw them in jail or put them onto a bus to make someone else’s problem - like other regional areas have done, there has to be some compassion and humanity.  But these encampments are not humane.  They are breeding grounds for disease and despair.  What does that say about you as you walk on by?  Trying to ignore the garbage and filth these people are living amongst.  But I have no answer.  I don’t even know where to begin to help these people.  So for the time being, I’m going to continue to stick my head in the sand and hope that California will rise to the challenge and find some solution, sooner rather than later. 

The Embarcadero curves around and leads you to the touristy part of the city...Fisherman’s Wharf.  I personally hate this part of town.  It’s just too much:  too many people; too many lame chain restaurants;  too many cheesy chotchkie stores.  My parents on the other hand love it.  When they come to town all they want to do is come to Pier 39 and Alcatraz.  My dad would live on Alcatraz if he could.  One of these days I just may lock him in one of the cells.  Today though, things were different.  I loved seeing that Alcatraz tours are once again up & running.  AND not a lot of people yet...wink wink wink...for those of you who've tried to go but weren’t able to get a reservation.  It was early, so the area was just coming alive. The street vendors setting up their wares or street performers getting into character. Then there’s the abundance of colors of all the flashy stores and restaurants.  The sounds of the sea lions barking at the tourists watching them.  The marina with the famous “Rocket Boat!”  I was digging it.  Fisherman’s Wharf also has some great views of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge.  It wasn’t so horrible.  Bob showed me Scoma’s restaurant, a tiny seafood restaurant that’s been here for years and is supposed to be pretty darn good.  There’s even a chapel for the local fishermen.  Then of course there’s Musee Mecanique.  A museum of antique slot machines, animations, coin operated pianos and the like.  It’s pretty cool and I believe most of the games are still functioning, so you can play.  Unfortunately it is also closed because of the pandemic.  You can donate to help keep it open though.  Just go to https://museemecanique.com.  

Then we hit Aquatic Park. An interesting cove at the West end of Fisherman’s Wharf.  This is where crazy people swim in the freezing waters of the bay, most without wet suits.  On this cold, windy morning we found a group of children being taught how to acclimate their bodies to the water so they can grow up to be crazy people.  Horrible way to spend a Saturday if you ask me!  

We continued to go around Aquatic Park and up and around to Fort Mason. There’s a great trail that we’ve never taken that gives you an even better view of the GG bridge and Fort Mason below.  And once you get on the other side, you’re in local land of OZ!  Where the curtain is pulled back and the locals are enjoying the real SF.  Now for those tourists who spend their whole time at Fisherman’s Wharf and The Embarcadero, more power to you.  Just don’t say you’ve been to San Francisco.  Because you haven’t.  Once you get over the hump, one of my favorite scenes of SF...the buildings.  Squat, square homes of multiple pastel colors rolling like waves along the hills of San Francisco.  In other areas of the city, the hills are rolling with colorful victorians.  The colors are what I love best about San Francisco.  

It was here that I realized I was hiking with Cher.  We had to make yet another stop so Bob could make a wardrobe change.  It’s also kind of a production with him narrating what he’s doing.  I got to hear all about the ins and outs of why he rolls his flannel rather than fold.  Why he’ll wait to take off the thermal leggings.   Where to put his first UO sticker. Yada, Yada, Yada.  Good thing he’s pretty cute.  As he was changing, we noticed a statue of an older man in a suit but no plaque telling visitors who he is.  I thought he looked like Rodney Dangerfield.  But why would anyone put up a statue of Rodney Dangerfield in SF?  That would be the ultimate “no respect” though, a statue but no plaque.  Ends up it’s a guy named Phil Burton.  He was a US Congressman from California who is responsible for 87,000 acres of the SF Bay Area being designated as a National Park. I was basically ending my hike in a National Park thanks to this man.  He deserves a plaque god damnit!

So once you pass Fort Mason, you are now in the Marina district.  It’s where Cal Berkeley students go after they graduate. They mutate here on the hollowed grounds of Crissy Field.  Like yuppy gremlins. Working out or drinking Philz Coffee.  The homes along Crissy Field are gorgeous. Huge picture windows with a front row seat to the Golden Gate Bridge.  Each one is architecturally different and once again, the colors!  Beautiful. The only downside was the wind.  It was pretty darn windy along this stretch.  But Bob had his windbreaker and I had my knit cap.  I can endure the wind if I have my ears covered. 

It’s a long stretch from Crissy Field to the Presidio.  The old barracks of the Presidio on one side and the entrance of the Bay on the other.  The GG Bridge is the main attraction here.  It’s majestic. Great time to get over there.  Parking was plenty and not a bad way to have a picnic. There’s a climbing gym, a trampoline park and under the bridge is Fort Point.  I have been here before, took my parents.  I was able to slyly divert their attention from the bells and whistles of Fisherman’s Wharf with the chance to view history!  They are suckers for historical buildings.  And Fort Point is a National Historical Site.  It was built during the Civil War in 1861.  It’s been awhile so I don’t remember too many of the details, but definitely worth a visit.  

Now we began our assent to the Jewel of this hike...The Golden Gate Bridge.  It’s a National Icon and San Francisco’s mascot.  As you climb the hill and get closer to the bridge there are a bunch of tunnels and “hide outs” along the way.  Remnants of the military presence that once dominated San Francisco.  But the absolutely coolest thing about this hike was I had NO IDEA you can actually walk underneath the bridge itself...like right below the huge steel red frame!!  It’s literally a wind tunnel, so hold onto your hat!  But super duper cool!!  If you have any engineers or construction people in your circle, this would be a great spot to bring them.  

As you continue around the bend, you come to Baker’s Beach.  Not sure if it’s still a nude beach, but it used to be.  The unfortunate thing about nude beaches is the people who SHOULDN’T be nude are the first ones to get into their birthday suit. But that’s my problem, not theirs!  Some nice trails along this stretch, but nothing too exciting to report.

We soon came upon the neighborhood Sea Cliff.  Now this is where the really rich people live.  Like Robin Williams had a home here;  Nancy Pelosi I think lives here.  Mansions with a view of the Pacific.  Bob & I had to walk through right?  I am happy to report the other half live very well.  I stopped to smell the roses (literally) but I noticed that all the gardens actually smelled horrible.  The fertilizer was strong here.  Bob & I laughed that that was how they kept the riff-raff away, by surrounding their homes with a shit moat.  Worked for us!  We high tailed it out of there.  

Now we came to our last stretch...Land’s End.  A labyrinth of trails along the coastal edge.  We needed to stop for another wardrobe change.  This time his leggings were going back on.  Which meant he needed to get down to his underwear.  Let’s just say a whole group of people got a little more than they were expecting that day!

Finally we made it to Sutro Baths and the Cliff House!  Fantastic!  Unfortunately the Cliff House closed due to the pandemic and is not reopening.  I cannot imagine this space will be closed for long.  Fingers crossed.  We decided to head down to Ocean Beach and end our hike by having lunch at the Park Chalet.  We were both famished and Bob was getting cranky.  Needed to feed him STAT.  I have more to report here but Bob might get mad at me, so if you see him again, just ask him about our new friend Franklin!  

BTW, Sunday I did my final 4-5 miles back at my MacArthur Trail.  I brought Stella this time and she loved it.  It was as fabulous as ever!

I’m still going to hike y’all and write about it.  So check in to see where I go next.  I enjoyed writing my thoughts and feelings down.  Even if nobody reads it, it’s my journal to this wonderful life I’ve been blessed with.  Why not tell the world!

Thank You to all who have donated to the Ride4Reason fundraiser and have endured reading these ramblings.  But, That’s All Folks!  (for now).  xoxox

[cosmonaughtt]

hitch-hiker (steven universe future/dannny phantom crossover)

ao3

Danny's lost, thanks to the help of another ghost patrol gone wrong. Luckily he finds a kind driver who's willing to take him to the next town. But is this driver just as "normal" as he is?

Hitchhiking was NOT the way that Danny wanted to get back to Amity Park, but he was left with it as his only option, because;

1. He was exhausted. His powers could still work, sure, but he didn’t want to risk trying to fly back home, transforming back mid-flight and taking a tumble to the earth, and

2. He didn’t know where he was and what direction he had to go to in order to find his way home.

Danny tried to pull out his phone and check its signal; no luck. It wasn’t a dead-zone, but his phone was dead. Hah. Funny.

What did he have on hand? Well, he always had the thermos on hand, in his other form. He had his phone and a wallet. And that’s it.

Just his luck. 

He sent a few texts out to the ghost hunting group chat. They wouldn’t send until he had some kind of connection again, probably, but it eased his heart to 

And. And, to top it all off for his current situation, he hadn’t even found the damn ghost he’d been fighting originally! Stupid Skulker. The wild chase (of which Danny was, unfortunately, hunted again) took him back through the Ghost Zone and out through a random door. 

Which led him to this current moment. Standing on the side of the road trying to catch a lucky ride to the next town to figure out how long it’ll take to fly home.

The road was pretty empty. It was inching closer to midnight by then, and he was probably going to have to transform to try and get at least to the next town where he can break into a motel and catch up on a little bit of sleep before trying to get home.

Damn his luck. 

Danny glanced at his phone again. Now it was midnight. Hopefully, his messages would send in soon, but he was going to give it until… 12:20 until he gave in and flew. Try and recover some energy so he wouldn’t suddenly decide night-time sky diving sounds a lot of fun in the middle of nowhere. 

12:01.

12:02. 

12:04.

12:10.

The sound of a car’s engine brought Danny up from the crude drawing he was doing in the dirt by his feet. He stood, and glanced down the road. A single car, brights on, was making its leisurely way down the road.

Danny stuck his hand out and waved. Please, please, please…

To his luck (thankfully), the car slowed down as it neared him. It was a compact Dondai of sorts, but Danny never paid much attention to the different kinds of cars. He had to think of more important things, like the different kinds of ghosts. 

The passenger side window rolled down to reveal the driver.

Who looked not much older than him.

“Hey, are you okay?” The kid asked, quirking an eyebrow. He looked really young, but maybe it was bad genetics. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m good. Could I get a ride, though?”

The boy didn’t look immediately distrustful of Danny, at least. He even smiled and nodded. “Sure! Hop on in!”

The passenger side unlocked with a click-- it was one of the older cars, where you had to manually roll down the windows and had a cassette deck, but other than that you couldn’t tell. It was really nice inside, and Danny jumped into the plush seat and smiled at the driver.

“I’m Steven, your humble new chauffeur.” He introduced, with a cheeky wink. 

“Thanks. I’m Danny.”

“It’s good to meet you. Where are you heading to?”

“I just need to get to the next town. Do you know how far that is?”

Steven thought for a moment, before leaning over to Danny’s side and pulling out a map. Really off-road, but then again, Danny didn’t have any service, so the odds that Steven had some were slim as well. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in the car to read the map, but it only took him a minute to figure it all out. “An hour or so, I’d say. If I’m doing the math right.”

“I’ve got a C minus in math, I doubt I’d be much help,” Danny said. “Is that on your way? If it isn’t, I can try and--”

“No, it’s fine!” Steven interjected. “I’ll probably gas up there, and probably rent out a room to sleep.” He laughed nervously. “All buckled up?”

Danny nodded.

And off they went.

…

….

…… It was weird.

It only took a few minutes of being in this stranger’s car to realize how weird this situation was.

He was in the car with a boy, probably barely a year older than him. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of the night. It was not some horror movie concept (and frankly, Danny hadn’t been scared by one of those in months after all the shit he’s been through), but it was just. Really, really, really weird. 

Steven hadn’t asked why Danny was out in the middle of nowhere. He hadn’t asked Danny’s full name, he had provided his own and hadn’t hounded Danny with any questions. He also didn’t explain much about why he was out in the middle of nowhere, either, just driving in the middle of the night.

Maybe not all things needed answers. 

“Do you mind music?”

Danny shook his head. He’d be listening to his own music, had he not broken his earbuds in the latest fight with Technus. He was going to get more tomorrow, since it was officially a weekend and he and his friends could go to the mall and he could buy them, hopefully without any fights along the way. 

“Sadie Killer and the Suspects cool?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Sam had gone through a brief time of being obsessed with that band, and when she showed Danny the music he had to admit, it wasn’t that bad. 

Steven reached into the compartment by his arm and pulled out an old cassette, switching the one that had previously been in it with the new one with seasoned ease. 

Disobedient. Hm.

Again, another pause of silence. 

“So… You’re not going to ask me why I was out in the woods? In the middle of the night? Alone?”

Damn it, Danny is so awkward. But he can’t help but be confused by the stranger who took him in without questions.

Steven shrugged. “I mean, yeah, it’s kinda weird, but I’ve seen weirder.”

Oh. Now that piqued Danny’s curiosity. 

“So you pick up hitch-hikers often?”

“Eh, you’re only my third,” Steven replied. “The first was a guy who needed a ride to the hospital, I couldn’t just say no, you know? And then there was the woman who broke down on the side of the road, on the way to the car dealership. Talk about bad luck…”

“And you weren’t… afraid that they’d like, kill you or anything?”

“I can protect myself.” Danny tried to ignore the slight flinch that Steven had, but it was noticeable.

They settled into another beat of silence. Another song-- G-G-G-Ghost. Oddly fitting for Danny’s situation.

He didn’t even turn the question around and ask why Danny was in the middle of nowhere. He just… took it, as is. Might as well throw Danny’s cover story of getting lost when he got up in the middle of the night to pee while camping out the window, because Steven didn’t seem phased by anything at all.

Heh. Phased.

The thought of Steven being the maniac serial killer came, but Danny shot it down. The other teen-- he had to be a teen, or at least in his 20s, with a super bad case of Baby Face-- gave off some kind of vibe that he wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

But he could. It was extremely powerful; but not threatening. More like royalty, if anything. 

It was strange. Danny never got it confirmed as an official “ghost power”, but being able to just sense people’s vibes were definitely not a human thing. 

Then again, what was a human thing? It’s been almost two years since The Accident. 

Tucker called it being able to vibe-check people. Steven’s vibes were powerful, but not malevolent. 

“So… Steven, where are you going?”

“Eh. I don’t really know.” He gave off a smile, but it was different than his tone. “I’m trying to go on a journey of self-discovery right now? Just going where-ever the road takes me.”

“Really? Don’t you go to school or anything?”

“Eh-- uh, kinda. I’ve taken up a few online classes I can get with free wi-fi and stuff, you know?”

“How old are you?” 

“Almost seventeen.”

Alright. Danny knew some kids in Amity Park who dropped out of Caspar High. Some of them took up jobs at the Nasty Burger, others in various gas stations, and grocery stores throughout the city. So Steven must’ve been a well-off kid to just drop out, take online classes, and travel the country.

Danny was kind of jealous. Being able to just drop everything and go somewhere else, and make a new identity for yourself?

But he’d be leaving Amity Park defenseless. No, bad idea.

Danny checked his phone again for the time-- ah, finally. Connection again.

big titty goth gf: danny? helloooo?

t.f. as in the fuck: you’d think he’d be back by now.

big titty goth gf: yeah, well, he isn’t if u hadn’t noticed

t.f. as in the fuck: ………. Yeah

t.f. as in the fuck: usually he’d be out of the ghost zone by now if skulker’s got him going. think something happened?

big titty goth gf: i hope not or else jazz is gonna start yelling at us for letting him go into the gz alone

big titty goth gf: danny tuck and i are headin back to my house let us know when you’re ok?

Oh, his messages are finally going through. That’s good.

sad ghost club president: hey SHIT guys uh i got out of the ghost zone but uh. Don’t know where i am and don’t know where skulker went i’m gonna try and find a way back home. can either of u cover for me while i’m gone? Idk when you’ll get this massage

sad ghost club president: *message fuck tonight sucks

It wasn’t long until someone responded. They were teens, they were up late on a weekend night. No rules.

big titty goth gf: oh thank GOD its been like two hours 

t.f. as in the fuck: good to hear you’re ok! sam and i got ya covered. But where are you?

sad ghost club president: tuck i just said i didn’t know. but a kind samaritan stopped and i’m on route to the closet down 

t.f. as in the fuck: you’re HITCH-HIKING?

sad ghost club president: well it’s either that or having a fun trip skydiving tonight, so yeah

big titty goth gf: just be safe danny, don’t fall into a horror movie

sad ghost club president: remember i’m scarier than anything they can throw at me owo

sad ghost club president: plus this guy doesn’t look like he’d hurt a fly

sad ghost club president: or, well, he could if the fly hurt him first. Vibe Check is going off yall

big titty goth gf: i still cant believe u refer to that as ur Vibe Check

t.f. as in the fuck: sam its a good name

big titty goth gf: I Beg To Differ

t.f. as in the fuck: anyway if his vibe check is clear then you’re probably ok danny

sad ghost club president: yeah but its still super weird. he hasn’t asked why i was in the middle of the woods or anything, he didn’t ask me any questions about whio i am?? he’s also like. jazz’s age at MOST. just driving nowhere in the middle of the night because apparently he’s on some sort of journey of self-discovery

big tittyy goth gf: yeah thats weird but also danny?

sad ghost club president: yeah sam?

big titty goth gf: stop being paranoid

big titty goth gf: also ur cover story is being at my place with tucker for a movie night like we originally planned until He came around.

t.f. as in the fuck: fuck skulker

sad ghost club president: skulker does not have rights

He could chill now, that he knew that Sam and Tucker have his back (like always, they always have his back) and a cover story already set up. His parents didn’t question his whereabouts usually on Friday nights, because he usually spent them with his friends and they were usually too buried in research to notice him not there.

Sad, but true.

Steven changed out the cassette tape for another, continuing the quiet drive down the road.

This is okay. They were probably only half an hour away now. Once they got to the city, Danny could look it up on his GPS app and see how long it’d take to fly back home. He couldn’t have ended up too far away from home, but with the Ghost Zone, he had doubts sometimes.

Of course just as everything seemed to be okay, everything had to go downhill immediately.

It started with his ghost sense going off. Steven was preoccupied with looking at the road, listening to the music playing through the speakers. Luckily. 

Danny glanced out the window.

Skulker’s face materialized through nothing and threw his robotic body at the car.

It was a shake, but the sudden force against the poor car sent it sliding across the road. Steven grasped the wheel hard and hit the brakes, and Danny braced himself and held onto whatever he could.

Luckily it was midnight in the middle of nowhere, no one else was on the road.

“You okay, Danny?” Steven asked, looking around with frantic eyes.

“I’m-- yeah, I’m good.” Danny took a deep breath. He glanced out the window again. Skulker was still around, no doubt about it, and Danny’s ghost sense went off again. He’s close.

“What was--” 

Danny didn’t want Steven to have to deal with ghosts, on top of his existential cross-country trip to find himself. For all Danny knew, the kid didn’t even believe in ghosts! He unbuckled his seatbelt and threw open the door.

“Thanks for the ride, goodbye!”

He didn’t want to deal with Skulker, once Steven was out of the way he’d go ghost and try and fly to the town nearby and figure out where he was, then let Skulker hunt him all the way back to Amity Park. All in a night’s work.

“Wait, Danny--?”

He ducked into the brush by the side of the road, trying to lure Skulker away from Steven. He didn’t want more normal people to get involved in his problems.

But apparently the other kid didn’t take goodbye! very well, Danny turned his head around and saw Steven following him carefully into the woods by the side of the road.

Before he could tell Steven to turn around and go, Skulker appeared. Of course. Steven was immediately drawn to the sight of the sudden floating, glowing robot in mid-air, of course, but it didn’t go the other way. 

“You’re too out-of-range to have your friends help you with that stupid tablet now, whelp.” Skulker had somehow got re-synced to one of Tucker’s tablets, and it was good while it lasted, but it seemed Danny was out of time. And even if they were still synced up, they were too far away from Amity Park for it to connect.

Damn it. Just his luck.

“Let’s make this quick, shall we?” Skulker added before Danny could interject with a witty remark. He raised one of his DALV-made ecto-guns and it shot.

Go intangible, his instincts said.

FUCK, his brain said, helpfully.

He closed his eyes and braced for whatever was coming-- intangibility, pain, whatever. Hopefully, Steven got the idea to run--

No pain came. He wasn’t intangible.

Danny opened one eye.

And then the other. 

Steven was standing between him and Skulker, and a weird… It wasn’t ecto-energy, but it was some kind of pink energy, forming a barrier, taking the hit from the ecto-gun too easily.

What.

The fuck.

Steven turned around to Danny, eyes wide. “Danny, are you okay?”

“Uh-- the-- what.” Skulker looked as annoyed as he usually did, if not more, and tried to phase through the pink barrier. “Are you-- what-- uh. I think my brain has officially had it. Yeah, you know, this might as well happen.”

Steven cringed. “Oh, the shield. It’s a, uh… Long story.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Danny replied. He looked back at Skulker. He didn’t want to transform right in front of Steven, but the barrier probably wouldn’t hold forever, or Skulker would just go over it or under it eventually. 

Steven could clearly protect himself. This is what he meant, it seemed.

“Well. I didn’t freak out on you. So don’t freak out on me now, okay?” Danny looked to Steve, who nodded.

“No freaking out, got it!”

Danny allowed the familiar rings to transform him. Why he was trusting this random kid with the biggest secret he had (well, one of the biggest secrets, technically), Danny didn’t know.

But the kid obviously wasn’t normal himself, as evidenced by the glowing pink barrier between him and the ghost.

And to his word, Steven did not freak out. His eyes did glimmer and he did look at Danny with an odd sort of familiarity to it, a sort of kin-ship of weird teenagers with weird powers. Apparently.

Skulker broke through the barrier. He looked down at Steven, then to Danny. “Looks like I’ve got two pelts to add to my collection.”

“Ew, gross?” Steven replied, looking a bit sick to his stomach. 

“Yeah, you get used to it after a while.” Danny shrugged, before turning to Skulker again. “How many times do I have to tell you, Skulker, that you’re never gonna get your hands on my beautiful hair?”

Danny charged ectoblasts into his hands. Steven allowed more of that weird-pink energy form around his fists, like boxing gloves. Ah, not just a one-trick show pony. 

“I’ve got your back, Danny.”

And for once, Danny didn’t feel alone in his ghost-fighting.

----

Skulker was taken down easily with two people fighting instead of one, especially with barriers that could take hits from both ecto-gun blasts and normal ecto-energy blasts pretty well. It was probably not even five minutes until the pesky hunter was sucked up into the thermos and stashed back in the safe space along Phantom’s handy belt.

Steven didn’t even look fatigued. It looked like he had more energy than he had started with originally-- probably the adrenaline high that came with every ghost hunt. 

“Alright. I was trying to not be too nosy, but what was that?” 

“A ghost.”

“A… a ghost?!”

“Yup. Not the whole horror-movie, boo and spook ya kind of ghosts.” Danny said, floating down to where Steven stood. “You’re taking this well.”

“You’re taking this well.” Steven wasn’t even bruised and he’d been thrown into a tree during their fight. He wasn’t even bleeding, but one of his fists was still covered with the magic-bubble glove. He flexed and it popped, fading away.

“Well, at this point, anything might as well happen.” Danny landed, allowing him to transform back. “You can’t tell anyone about this, alright?”

The sudden harsh tone in Danny’s voice startled Steven, and he straightened up. “Scout’s honor! Even though I was never a scout.” Steven shrugged. “And, well, I never kept my gem powers a secret, so I don’t care if you tell anyone or not, I guess?”

“Gem powers?” It was the word that Skulker had thrown out during their fight, but Danny was just trying to take him down quickly so he could get home quickly so he could take a nice, long nap. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m half-gem.” To prove, Steven lifted his shirt and showed that, in the placement of his navel was a bright pink gemstone. “Half-gem, half-human.”

Wow.

The only experiences Danny had ever had with other hybrids like him-- halfas-- were Dani and Vlad. Dani (or, Ellie, as she said last in one of her letters) was his clone, for starters, who was taking soul-searching to a whole new global level. Vlad was an egotistical maniac who wanted to kill his dad so he could date his mom.

“I’m… I’m half-human, too. Except, half-ghost instead.” He could feel a few tears welling up, but he pushed them aside. “Normally I’d say you’re going to have to wait a little longer to unlock my tragic backstory, but after tonight I’d say we both have stories to tell.” 

Steven smiled. “I still owe you a ride to the next town, don’t I?”