#but my coworker who had to be there at 5 FUCKING 30 to open at 6am sent us a pic of a line outside that was so long

[bioshocked-astroghost]

I hate you Black Friday. I hate you overcrowded areas. I hate you extreme sales that last for one day. I hate you corporate who rakes in the money while the employees still get paid the exact same amount as any other day. I hate you customers who destroy stores just to get a few items. I hate you customers who forget how to treat someone like a fucking human being just because they’re a Black Friday retail worker. I hate you shitty backed up three hour wait time traffic. I hate you people who become so selfish and vile just because it’s Black Friday. I FUCKING HATE YOU BLACK FRIDAY

[wellthatschaotic]

neurotypicals are so frustrating,, i keep forgetting that "can you do x" means "go do x"

[bitbugbites-re]

𝙳𝙰𝙼𝚂𝙴𝙻 // 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔬𝔰 𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔦𝔯𝔞 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

As summer comes to an end, you’re desperate to get some pool time in while you still can. However, since it’s now October, you’re pretty much out of luck. Luckily for you, there’s an indoor pool at the Y. Not to mention, it comes along with a cute pool boy!

a03 link

word count: ~8.6k

gender: fem! reader

cw: NSFW, FLUFF // drowning // ktober

a/n: literally supposed to be reading the bible for class rn but god be damned, this lady knows how to write erotic fiction !!!

p.s. -- if you're only interested in the smut, you can scroll down until you reach the thin black bar lololol

You’re not crazy. You just want to swim.

Frowning, you stared down your phone as you read the most recent messages from your friends. They were replying to the flurry of texts you had just sent.

The first response read: “Girl. Lol.”

The next was: “You didn’t think about this in September???”

And the last response wasn’t even a response. It was a TikTok link leading to a video about things to do while in Vegas. You didn’t even live in Vegas. You’re on the East Coast.

You sighed, placing the phone down for a second before popping a Keurig cup into the proper machine, waiting for it to finish warming the water. When the buttons lit up, you pressed 12oz and leaned over the counter, one of your hands resting on your cheek. With your free hand, you picked your phone back up and re-read your initial texts as you listened to the liquid pour a straight line into your mug.

“u guys”

“I wanted to go swimming at least once this summer but I forgot”

“do u think there are any pools still open??? I don’t even care if its cold im desperate”

Yeah, so maybe you are a little crazy after all. It was October, and there was no way that even one pool would be open. You felt a little defeated, your desperation morphing into disappointment. Suddenly, the whirring of the Keurig slowed before spitting out the last bits of bitterly strong tea, a burning droplet jumping out and landing on your hand. You wondered if that was the Keurig’s way of calling you crazy as well.

Shaking your hand before wiping it with the opposite sleeve of your shirt, you stood up straight and leaned your back against the counter. With your phone in hand, you tapped out a string of shushing emojis in the group chat. Fuck it. You’re crazy and you’re proud.

You then pressed the video on, “Fun Things To Do In Vegas” which was accompanied by three exclamation points and a couple of emojis with their tongues out. The emojis implication almost made you a little scared of what “things” were going to be listed in the TikTok.

Before you could actually watch the video, though, a notification from your group chat popped up. It was from the friend who sent the Vegas video – they likely just now actually read the chat.

“Claire: Wait, what about the YMCA near your house? Doesn’t it have an indoor pool? Probably not the same kind of swimming that u were thinking of, but it’d be swimming lol.”

Oh shit. That’s a good idea. – Is what you both thought and simultaneously typed in response. Not missing a beat, you opened the search engine app on your phone and looked up the YMCA closest to you. Just under the images (which mostly consisted of it’s pool, oddly enough), you noticed that it was open from 5 A.M. to 9 P.M. 

It was only 6:30 P.M. right now. Meaning, it was still open.

You switched back to the group chat’s tab and typed away.

“guess who’s going to the pool tonight”

“(it’s me)”

“anyone wanna come with?”

Surprisingly, the responses flooded in pretty quickly. They said:

“Claire: I wish, but I’ve got a class in an hour. I knew it was a bad decision to pick a class at 7 at night smh. Can’t ever meet up with u guys on weekends anymore :/”

“Ada: Can’t. Lots of work. Maybe next time.”

“Jill: Sorry, I’m at work right now. Had to pick up my coworker’s shift again. How about on the weekend?”

You groaned out a whine, throwing a mini-tantrum. You didn’t really want to go alone, because what fun would that be? Nonetheless, you didn’t want to wait for the weekend either. It was rare you guys ever actually had the same schedule, so you were sure the plans would just end up getting canceled or be pushed back even further. You’d just have to go alone. 

You typed out a message informing your friends of your plan before placing the phone down with a heavy hand. Dragging your way down the narrow hall to your room, you plopped yourself down on your knees, opening up the dresser drawer that stored your bathing suits. You had an idea of which one you were going to wear, as it was a black one-piece with a deep-wired V down the front – It was appealing in the way that it wasn’t too revealing, but not unattractively modest either. Perfect for a venue that was family-friendly and not as free as the beach.

After a couple of minutes of rummaging, you slumped down to a hunch and huffed. You couldn’t seem to find the swimsuit. Not even after pulling out each bathing suit one by one. You searched, and searched, and searched, but it was nowhere to be found. 

You caved to your frustration and picked out a bikini instead. You didn’t have any other swimsuits, so it was either a simplistic bikini or nothing. And after all that hullabaloo in the group chat, you were not choosing nothing.

Changing quickly, you then grabbed your things and headed for the car. It was now already after 6:45 P.M., and you were running out of time before the Y would close.

Soon enough, you were turning your car wheel to pull into the YMCA’s parking lot. You found a spot fairly fast and quickly put the car in park, removing your keys from the hole with a twist and pull of the wrist. As the car’s engine whirred, shutting off, you observed the parking lot. You noticed there weren’t too many cars. Hopefully, most of the people would be in the gym or another section of the Y and not the pool, you thought to yourself.

Stepping out of your car, you held onto the handle as you got dusted in the face by the wind, your hair flinging all over the place. The wind was pretty bad, but the chill alone was enough for you to huddle your arms over your body before running into the building. You were starting to regret coming to the pool so late in the day, especially in October, nonetheless. At least the air smelled nice, though; there must’ve been a place nearby having a bonfire, as there was a heavy waft of burning wood.

You pulled the heavy glass door open, practically swinging it with all your might, and walked in heaving. Maybe you should be going to the gym instead of the pool – how could you be out of breath from only a short jog across the parking lot?

No matter, you walked up to the counter and paid for a day pass. You got to go in free since you’re a first-time visitor, although you felt a little guilty considering it was going to be wasted on a less than two-hour excursion. It was probably fine though – you don’t think you’d need to go to the Y again after this, anyway.

Walking through the building, you admired the decorative furniture and monotone walls contrasted with bright accent walls and signs. It had a clean, modern look and you were pretty impressed by how well-kept it was; it must’ve been hard for the janitors who worked there considering it was a pretty big community establishment. You appreciated how spotless they were able to keep it with this knowledge in mind.

Soon, you found your way to the pool after getting lost and asking a very tired-looking staff member. You almost felt bad interrupting them – their dark undereye mixed with the lighting made them look as if they were ready to be taken out back and put down. Not that you blame them – they must’ve been here for a while now. You were sure you’d look like that too if you had to work until nine at night.

As you pushed the door to the pool open, you were immediately exposed to the hot, humid air. Typical of a pool. You had to admit, though, it felt pretty good as compared to the cold breeze outside. Besides, you probably wouldn’t feel this type of heat again unless you decided to put your heater on full blast in winter. Although that would turn your room into what was practically an oven and not a fun chlorine-smelling paradise – so maybe it wasn’t the same after all.

You observed the area, your eyes immediately landing on the few kids splashing around in the middle of the pool. Great. In situations like these, you tend to sit on the side of the stairs to the pool – but that spot seemed to be occupied by a group of older men and women, so you crossed that option off. You didn’t feel like getting dragged into a conversation about retirement homes, or grandchildren, or…stuff. You weren’t really sure what the elderly chatted about.

Admitting defeat, you decided to just go sit on one of the pool chairs instead. You figured you’d just wait it out, betting that both the kids and the elderly wouldn’t stay for much longer. It was almost pitch-black outside, and seeing both children and old people at night was practically like spotting a leprechaun next to a pot of gold, you thought.

As soon as you sat and plopped your stuff down in the middle-most chair, you took in a breath and looked around. And that’s when you saw him.

You swore your heart stopped beating for a second. He was gorgeous. 

Most of the men you came across on a day-to-day basis looked downright horrendous, dressed in sweats and backward caps with dumb labels like “GymRat,” so to see a fit man with a haircut that suited his looks and facial scruff that looked like it was actively trimmed was like seeing that your younger sibling didn’t pick all of the marshmallows out of your favorite cereal and eat them. A blessing, that’s what this is, you thought.

You figured he was the lifeguard, as he was sitting in the lifeguard’s chair, leaning back with one leg dangling and the other using his heel to support his placement on the seat. He had one arm lazing on the armrest, while the other held his tilted head in place as he watched the kids dash up waves of water at one another. Every once in a while, his lips would curve into an amused smile, and he’d shake his black curls out of his face, eyes not straying from the children at play. Cute, you thought.

Watching him for a while longer, you noticed three things about him:

His eyes stayed trained on the kids in the pool, not the elderly. Every once in a while, if they made a sudden movement, he’d sit up, as if he were ready to leap from the tall chair at a moment's notice.

He seemed to be pretty proud of his body, or at least his looks. His posture was confident in nature and he never covered up any part of his body with his arms. 

He had a charismatic personality, or at the very least, was on good terms with the janitors. Every time they passed by, he’d quickly turn his head, see who it was, and make a comment of some sort. He always had a grin on his face as he did, and never showed a bit of discourtesy nor dislike, even if the janitor didn’t return the energy.

Of course, those weren’t the only things you noticed about him. You also noticed he had a great body. Did you mention he had a great body? He had a great body.

He didn’t even need to be shirtless for you to tell. His arms and thighs were fat with muscle, his calves fit for a marathon runner, and his chest with mounds big enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew how to flex them one at a time, as a kind of party trick.

You also could tell that he was a pretty hairy guy, not that you were complaining. You liked that in a man. You wondered what it would feel like to run your hands down his arm as his legs brushed up against the skin of–

And then he looked in your direction. He saw you. As you were at your apex of wanting to eat him alive.

Your face burned with embarrassment as his eyes met yours, and before you made a fool out of yourself, you looked away. Grabbing your phone which now felt sticky from the humidity, you pulled up the group chat, pretending to be busy. 

“guys”

“there’s a rly cute lifeguard here and he caught me staring”

“im so embarrassed”

You stared at the screen for a while, waiting for your friends to respond, but none came.

Damn. Why is it that whenever you need a distraction, no one is active?

It didn’t take long after for you to give up, slinking your phone back down. You picked up a book instead, sneakily glancing up at the lifeguard once more to see if he was still looking your way. He wasn’t. His eyes were trained back on the kids, which surprisingly, made you feel a little disappointed.

You read for a while until eventually, you received a notification. 

“Ada: Lol. You have a crush?”

“Ada: You should go up to him.”

The longer you considered Ada’s suggestion, the more your heart raced. You seriously considered it for a moment, but abruptly shut it down after thinking about how weird it actually might be.

“I can’t do that”

“I don’t even know what I’d say”

Ada replied almost immediately.

“Ada: Then make him want to go up to you.”

It wasn’t bad advice. You thought about it for a bit, staring at the paved concrete below your pool chair. An ant scurried on by, passing your left foot, and once it was out of sight, you snapped out of your daze and returned your head to a forward position.

Once you did, you noticed the lifeguard’s gaze on you. He was looking at you first this time.

As soon as your eyes met, he flung his head to the side, pretending to rub his neck. It was pretty awkward to watch, as his hands moved aimlessly and unpurposeful, as there was really no physical reason for him to need to touch his neck. It was easy to tell that he was only doing it to play off the fact that he was caught staring, too.

His attraction – or at the very least, interest, was mutual, then. You felt a fire of confidence rising in your chest, and you now knew how you’d get him to come up to you first.

You stood up from your chair, keeping him in your peripheral view, pretending to dust yourself off before seeing his head move back in your direction. Good, he was watching you again.

Very slowly, you began to remove the regular clothes that rested atop your bikini. Once fully stripped to your swimsuit, you made sure to fold your clothes neatly. After each article was folded, you would bend over, your behind facing his direction, placing it flatly onto the pool chair. Each time you did this, you couldn’t tell if he was looking, but you were sure that he wouldn’t have been able to resist at minimum, a glance.

Once done, you began to walk towards the water. You felt a little conscious in your stride, your step heavy, but also determined to play it cool. When approaching the stairs of the pool, you grabbed onto the accompanying handlebar, creating a divide in the water as you were further submerged. You passed the elderly group, and once they thought you were out of earshot, one exclaimed, “I wish I still had a young body like that.” The others chuckled, agreeing with the notion. You blushed and continued your journey to an empty spot in the pool.

Wading through the water, you then came up near the area where the kids were playing. You went to the side opposite the lifeguard’s chair and leaned against the wall. It was a little noisy – no, very noisy being near the kids. On top of that, you were occasionally hit with splatters of water every time they tried to mimic professional swimmers, but at least your plan was working. You think. 

You weren’t really sure because you were too scared to look back up at the lifeguard. But that’s OK. All girlbosses have their weak moments.

While lost in thought trying to figure out your next step on alluring the lifeguard (as, for some reason, he wasn’t already proposing marriage and offering a bride-dowry to your parents consisting of 400 sheep, 200 goats, fifty pieces of silver, a years’ worth of unleavened bread, and seven years’ labor), you noticed two children playing roughly, one a bone-thin blonde, and the other a brunette missing one of his front teeth. 

The blonde child was in a small floaty, laughing as his friend tried to swim under the tube and get inside of it with him. Every time he dived under the water, the boy would swerve his donut-shaped float, swimming a few inches away, laughing. This went on for a while, until eventually, the blonde boy switched his tactic and began pushing his friend’s head away from his float while under the water.

You grew concerned as you watched, knowing they were starting to get a little too carried away, and you looked around for their parents. You then spotted a couple of adults on the pool chairs near the towel rack, busy conversing about something you couldn’t hear. You weren’t sure what to do and turned your head back to the kids, and then there was a stifled thump.

Your heart started to race as the blonde boy started to look worried, noticing his friend wasn’t coming up out of the water. You noticed what was happening when the child leaned over his tube, holding his reddened elbow, freezing in place.

The toothless boy was knocked out.

The child with scrawny arms somehow managed to deal a blow hard enough for his friend to lose consciousness. He whipped his head around to get the lifeguard’s attention, desperately screaming, “Help! Help!” 

The lifeguard was already halfway down the chair even before the boy started yelling. It seemed like his gaze had been so focused on the children earlier because he knew something like this was bound to happen.

The child was now sobbing, looking around for his parents, of which the whole group was now running over to see what the commotion was about.

You saw the kid whose body started to sink downwards, your heartbeat stammering in your chest.

You had to do something.

Launching yourself forward, you began to swim to the child nearby. As you did, you heard the lifeguard jump in the pool, a loud splash of water mixing in with the cries of the children’s parents. 

You made it to the boy under the water first, diving straight down. Once you got a hold of him, you yanked his arm up, pulled him to your body, and positioned his behind on your arm, so that his head would immediately be above the water. 

Both of you came up, and you gasped for air, blinking rapidly so that you could see. The lifeguard was right next to you, hurriedly taking the boy from your arms, rushing him toward the edge of the pool, and plopping him down on the concrete. You followed over, as did pretty much everyone at the pool, watching the lifeguard push desperately at his chest.

After a short while, which actually felt like forever, the boy gasped, throwing up the water that was in his lungs. The lifeguard helped the boy sit up a little, rubbing his back as he continued his violent coughs and sobs. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I got’cha, bud.”

Once the brunette had finally gotten a hold of himself, he ran to his parents, who held him and began petting his head. The other parents, who seemed to all be friends, began thanking the lifeguard profusely on both the boy's and his parent’s behalf.

The lifeguard was crouched, slightly hunched over, breathing heavily, simply shaking his head to assure them it was okay. “Just doin’ my job,” he smiled despite the apparent stress on his face, “Actually, you should be thanking the kind lady over there.” 

His gaze moved from the worry-stricken parents to you. “She’s the one who saved his life.” 

You blushed, your eyes moving from him, then to the parents, not sure what to say. You didn’t think you did that much. 

The parents came up to you and began thanking you as well, telling you how brave it was of you to dive in after the boy. You were only able to stammer out a couple of “it’s no problem’s” and “thank you’s” in return.

Soon, almost everyone left the pool, deciding they had witnessed enough of the pool for the night. Even the group of elderly packed their things and headed towards the changing room. 

You too had figured it was probably time to go, forgetting your entire plan of romancing the man who had just previously given you all the credit when he was the one to bring the boy back from unconsciousness.

However, as you turned and began walking back to your stuff, the lifeguard ran up to your side, trying to get your attention. “Hey, hey.” 

You turned to face him, stopping in place. “Um–yes?” you said, a little taken aback at his greeting, not expecting him to have started a conversation.

“Ah–oh,” he said, tripping on his words. “I just wanted to thank you, for saving the kid.”

You smiled at his words. “Sure,” you said. You then tilted your head, quirking a brow. “I didn’t really do much, though. You did more than me, so–”

He quickly cut you off, a tint of excitement in his voice. “No, no! If you hadn’t gotten him out, he would’ve been under even longer. Every second matters–you saved his life. I only got the water ‘outta his airway.”

You blushed a little at his enthusiasm for your act of heroism. “Well, uh, thank you–”

“You were so cool,” he said, and you swore you felt your heart explode.“Thanks,” you mumbled out, and soon enough, silence grew between the two of you. You were trying to figure out what to say back.

“Well, I should–” the lifeguard started to say, turning his body to leave. You scrambled for a response back, not wanting him to go.

“You were cool, too.” You said, your voice sounding a little wobbly. You felt your face start to grow red, your blood rising in degrees with every millisecond that passed.

The lifeguard seemed shy now, too, raising an arm behind his head, rubbing at his neck like he did earlier. “Oh–really?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathed out.

There was silence once more before the lifeguard laughed a little and held out his hand to you. “I’m Carlos. It’s nice to meet ‘ya, Phelps.”

You took his hand, shaking it gently. He had a good handshake, and his hand felt huge in your own. “Phelps?” you said, not really understanding why he was referring to you as that.

“You know, Michael Phelps? The swimmer guy? Because you dove in to get the kid?”

You let out a long “ooooooh” as soon as you recognized what he was talking about, and laughed in response. “Pretty rude to call a lady Michael Phelps, dont’cha think?”

He laughed back before running his hand through his hair – which, miraculously, was able to stay dry since you were the one to reach the kid underwater. “Sorry, pretty lady. What should I call you then?”

You blushed a little upon hearing him call you “pretty lady,” a cheeky grin growing on your face. “You can call me Y/N. Or pretty lady, too. I don’t mind either.”

He laughed, shaking his head in an amused manner. He placed his hands on his hips, and tilted his head back a little, grinning. “Okay, pretty lady. How old are you? You in college?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah. What about you?”

“Yep. I’m a senior. You?”

You replied, and from there, your conversation began to take off. You talked about things as small as favorite colors, to medium things like what your majors were, to big things like how many dogs were too many dogs for a person to have. You both seemed to click really well, and you had to admit, you had never met someone as easy to talk to before Carlos.

As you both started passionately debating on whether or not the pool slide was white or beige, an announcement sounded over the speakers.

“Attention guests, the YMCA will be closing in five minutes. Please make sure to gather all your things and head to the exit. Those who are still in the building after closing will be escorted outside by staff. Thank you for choosing the YMCA, and we hope to see you again soon!”

You and Carlos looked at one another, not sure what to say. 

You realized then, that all this time, you’d been keeping Carlos from leaving when he probably could’ve packed up early for the night. Embarrassed, you jumped up from where you both had been sitting. At some point during your conversation (before its interruption), you both had sat at the edge of the pool, your legs resting in the water.

“Shit, I’m sorry for keeping you–” you said. “I’ll go get my things so you can leave–I’m so sorry–”

As you turned in a hurry to go get your stuff, you felt Carlos’ hand rest on your shoulder, stopping you. “Hey, hey–you’re fine, you’re fine.”

You jumped a little at the contact, your face turning red, and once you turned to face Carlos, you noticed he had realized what he had done.

You were wearing a swimsuit. You had on practically next to nothing. And he, a stranger, was touching you.

He pulled his hand back, going to rub his neck, but pausing as he began to raise it. It seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself now. “Uh–”

“Sorry, shit–I didn’t mean to–uh,” he stumbled. “Was that weird?”

You took in a deep breath and averted your gaze. “No. No, you’re fine.”

“Are–are you sure?” he pushed.

“Yes, yes, you’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“Well, I’m worrying. You can tell me if–”

You sighed and looked him in his eyes. “It’s fine. I liked it.”

Upon hearing the words come out of your mouth, you froze. Your frustration with his reluctance to accept your assurance must have gotten to you, as you didn’t mean to say the last part. 

“You liked it?” he said. He seemed a little surprised, with a mix of something else. You weren’t quite sure what.

“Um. Yeah–yeah.” you asserted. And then there was silence again.

Unable to take the awkward tension, you cracked a joke. “I’m flattered by your desperation to keep me from leaving. Very, uh–flattering touch.”

Turns out you weren’t very good at jokes.

Nonetheless, he seemed to like it. He chuckled a little, which made your heartbeat increase in pace. He seemed to have good humor even in cringy situations. You liked that.

“Well, I’m glad you’re flattered, at least. I’d do it again if I needed to.” He smiled.

You blushed, and that’s when your mouth started to move on its own. “Then do it.”

“What?” he said, a little surprised.

“I’m on my way to leave. The building closes in…” You checked the clock on the wall. “...a minute or less. If you don’t want me to leave, then touch me again.” You looked up at him expectantly.

He paused for a minute and it was clear he was debating on what to do. You waited, watching him shift in place – going to rub his neck again, as he had been doing whenever he was nervous.

Suddenly, it was 9 P.M. and the announcement over the loudspeaker played, declaring it was closing time and all the guests who hadn’t left yet needed to begin their way on exiting the building. Your heart dropped a little, taking his lack of response before the loudspeaker’s interjection as a “no.”

You smiled weakly, taking the hint. You turned to grab your things off the pool chair and spoke. “Well, it was nice to–”

In a heartbeat, he grabbed your shoulder with a sense of determination, spinning you towards him. He placed one hand on your hip, pulling you in, before kissing you with wild passion.

You felt the roughness of his stubble first and then the softness of his lips. Slowly, you closed your eyes, kissing him back. 

He was a fast kisser, constantly changing the way he sucked at your lips, alternating between tilting his head to the side so that he could press his mouth into yours, and tilting his head downwards so that he could pull your mouth while you struggled to stay connected. He was constantly desperate for more access as if he wanted to make sure you felt him all over your lips, not one spot untouched.

Your hands rested on his soaking wet shirt that clung to his skin from when he had jumped into the pool to save the kid. It felt a little cold, but you got used to it as your kiss continued.

The only thing the two of you could hear was each other’s heavy breathing, along with the smack of your lips as they collided. That was, until, the sound of the pool door opened.

Both you and Carlos separated immediately, your lips feeling cold at the sudden touch of air, missing the warmth of Carlos’ own warm lips. You did, however, still feel the tingle left from his feverish push-and-pull play.

With about a two-foot distance now between the two of you, you both looked over to see what the noise was exactly.

In walked an older woman, one you would’ve guessed was in her early 60’s. Her hair was completely gray, resting in a shaggy bun with little hairs falling out. She looked rough – and ready to go home for the night.

“H–hey, Mary. You almost done for the night?”

She eyed him suspiciously before replying. “Wouldn’t that be a damn miracle.” 

She continued to go about her business, and you felt awkward watching their conversation. 

Suddenly, Carlos’ head shot towards you and then back towards Mary. “Oh, uh, I was just about to escort this…young, damsel-in-distress out of the building. She didn’t know where the exit was, you see.”

You shot him a dirty look as if saying, “I know where the exit is.”

Mary didn’t seem to care. She simply took the mop out of the water in the cleaning cart and plopped it on the floor. It made an uncomfortably loud squelch sound in an otherwise silent room. “Mmm.”

Carlos grabbed your things for you, and put an arm around your shoulder. “Well, I’ve gotta maintain my status as a gentleman, so…we’ll be on our way! See ‘ya later, Mary!”

It sounded like she mumbled out an “I hope not,” but you weren’t too sure.

The two of you walked quickly to the door, and once it shut behind you, Carlos let go of your arm. 

“Well, that was, uh–something?” He smiled, still holding onto your clothes and other items.

“Yeah,” you said, before looking up at him with an amused smile. “Damsel-in-distress, huh?”

He laughed and shuffled on his feet. “What, you the type that doesn’t like to be saved?”

You smirked. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. You wanna find out?”

He grinned as he looked at you, raising a brow in an amused fashion. “Only because you make it sound so alluring.”

After hearing his reply, you closed in on his body, wrapping your arms around his neck. You stood on your tippy-toes, whispering in his ear as your cheek brushed against his lengthy hair and scratchy stubble. “I’ll show you every part of me that you want, but you need to take me somewhere private first.”

You pulled back, and you saw that he was grinning. It was evident in his eyes alone that he was excited, although, there was a mix of something else, too. The other kind of excitement, perhaps – it was a very lustful look.

He held out his hand, and as you took it, he led you down the hall. You both laughed a little at the situation, adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was cold in the building, probably mostly because you still only had on a bikini, but you weren’t too focused on it. The warmth of Carlos’ hand and the anticipation for what you both were about to do were the main things on your mind right now.

Soon enough, Carlos pulls you into a room, and you look around, observing it. It was a locker room, although you hadn’t noticed whether it was for men, women, or unisex. You figured it didn’t matter all that much, though – it’s not likely that anyone would walk in.

Carlos twirled you around, pulling you into his chest again. He looked down at you, smiling before leaning down and kissing you. 

This time, his kiss was soft and exploratory. He took his time, not making any wild moves, although still leading the pace like he did the first time he kissed you. Maybe you were a damsel-in-distress after all – it was starting to seem like you were swept up in his game with no escape.

After a while, he broke away from the kiss, looking at you with gentle eyes. 

“I don’t have a key to lock the door. Someone could walk in. Is that okay?”

You laughed a little, smiling. “Let them walk in.”

He chuckled back, speaking in a soft voice as he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You’re a bold girl, huh?”

Before you could respond, his lips were back on yours. His hands moved down your back before interlacing his fingers, keeping you pressed to him.

The kiss you shared was slow again at first, but it didn’t take long for it to pick up again. At the apex of your kiss, Carlos pulled his lips away, moving them to the corner of your mouth, to your cheek, and finally to your neck. It tickled at first due to his facial hair, and you let out a small laugh, but eventually, it started to feel really good.

He found all of the sweet spots on your neck, sucking and licking, desperate to hear the pleased moans that escaped you every time he touched you the way you liked. Once he seemed to want more, he began to travel further down your body. You smiled when he ventured over your breasts, gasped when he reached your stomach, and paused when he kissed your pelvic area.

Petting his hair, you spoke. “Carlos?”

“Hmm?” He mumbled, looking up at you. He was waiting for you to give the go-ahead.

You felt a little nervous asking, but you knew it was important. “Have you been tested recently?”

He paused, thinking. “I haven’t been sexually active for a while, so I haven’t gone to get a test any time recent. The last time I did, though, there were no concerns.” He then picked up your leg, throwing it over his broad shoulder. He placed a kiss on your inner thigh. “Is that okay?”

You nodded your head and returned to running your fingers through his curls. He smiled up at you and started kissing through the bottom piece of your swimsuit again.

Once he figured he had done enough teasing, he removed your leg off his shoulder, slipping the bottoms down. You stepped out of it, and he picked your leg up again, placing it in its former position on his shoulder. 

“You’ve got a pretty pussy.” he said nonchalantly, placing a kiss on where the slit started. 

You laughed a little, pulling his head back to look up at you. He let you do it. “And you’ve got a pretty face to look at while you eat my pretty pussy.”

He let out a small exhale of a laugh, and you felt his breath brush up against your clit. Your grip on his head shivered, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Soon enough, he was licking and kissing your soft spot. He took his time, remaining very gentle and attentive. No tremble, no shake, no quiver went unnoticed while he worked. 

As you started to get closer to orgasm, you pulled him by his hair, tilting his head up at you. His eyes were half-lidded, staring up at you, his lapping at your folds unwavering. 

You rubbed yourself a little more forcibly into him, grinding against his face. He seemed to like it, as he placed a hand on your hip, bringing you down even harder onto him every time you pushed up against him. 

You felt yourself getting close, and the moans you had been stifling were getting hard to hold in. “Fucking god, Carlos, I’m close.” you murmured.

Carlos didn’t respond, nor speed up, he simply shut his eyes and kept the pace he had been going at. You stared down at his eyelashes, admiring how long they were as you came.

Your body shook a little, and once the high was over, you were panting, relying on Carlos to hold you up. He slowly pulled away, placing your leg back down, running his hands up your body as he stood up with you. 

He held you for a moment, placing your head against his chest, and rubbing your back as you calmed down. 

Once your breathing was steady, you pulled away from him, grabbing him by the shirt. His eyes widened, and he gave you an amused look.

You clung to him for a moment, before running your hands down his body as you got onto your knees in front of him. 

Panicked, he took your hands off him and held them gently. “Hey, hey– you don’t have to–”

You looked up at him, still panting a little. “I’m paying you back.”

He shook his head, and then let go of one of your hands to caress your face. “Nah. Not this time. You can pay me back another time. After all, if I let you pay me back now, you might just run away and I won’t get to see you again.” 

He smiled down at you as he said it, and you blushed a little when you realized he said not this time. That meant that there would be other times.

He then helped you up to your feet and kissed you again. It was a gentle kiss, but after your last orgasm, you were feeling needy for something faster.

You took the lead from him, kissing him as aggressively as you could to show that you were ready for him to be a little more rough with you. He seemed to get the hint but pulled away from the kiss. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he said, seeming a little downcast at the thought.

You smiled at him, your arms now around his neck. “I do.”

He perked up a little and smirked at you. “You’re a little too prepared for a damsel-in-distress, aren’t you?”

You laughed and replied as you went to get the condom from your purse. “I’d say I’m just the right amount of prepared.”

As you walked back over to him with the condom, he pulled you in and started kissing your neck once more. He moved from up, down, up, down, then up again before whispering in your ear. “Think you’re prepared enough to put it on me?”

You laughed at his smooth words, and you whispered back. “What, you don’t know how to put one on yourself?”

He chuckled, and pulled away, taking the condom as you handed it to him. He tore it open using his teeth, staring down at you as he did it. Once it was open, you made a smart remark. “You know you’re not supposed to use your teeth to get it out, right?”

He chuckled, placing the wrapper and condom in his palm. He made a closed fist and went to remove his clothes. You admired his body as he did – and in regards to your earlier comment about him being a hairy man, you were right. He had just the right amount of chest hair, as well as a happy trail stemming from his trimmed pubic area. “Guess you were right – I don’t know how to put one on, after all.”

You laughed, watching him slide the thin condom onto his shaft. He was pretty big – you were a little worried about being able to fit all of him in. 

Once he was certain the condom was on well, he looked over at you before picking you up in a rush. You giggled, wrapping your legs around his hips and burying your head in his neck. After a couple of seconds, you felt the cold wall against your back, and arched into him a little, trying to escape from the freezing touch.

He made a hmm noise that sounded amused at your squirming and then began pecking little kisses on your neck. You slowly eased back against the wall, getting used to the cold.

Once you did, Carlos began to press his body into you. You could tell Carlos enjoyed getting as much skin-on-skin as he could when intimate because he was always somehow buried in your touch. 

His hips ground his cock into your stomach, humping you slowly as he continued to suck your neck. You were starting to get a little impatient now, wanting him inside you already, and so the next time he ground into you, you ground back.

He didn’t seem to be expecting it, as he let out a throaty, closed-mouth moan. He got the hint, though, as he pulled back a little, and propped himself at your entrance. 

Slowly, he lowered you down onto his cock. He inserted the head first, watching your expression to see if it was okay. You winced a little, and he noticed.

Whispering, he tried to encourage you while he eased into you. “You’re doing good, Y/N. Most damsels-in-distress would’ve given up by now.”

You laughed, feeling him sink into you more. He smiled, watching your face as you adjusted. “Want me to make some noise for you?” he said, lowering his voice.

You nodded your head, interested in what noises he was going to make. 

He placed his head on your shoulder, beginning to make subtle grunts and moans the more his cock delved into you.

You started to get a little more wet from hearing his voice, turned on by the presumable pleasure he was feeling as he moved in deeper and deeper. Eventually, he was fully in, and you were more than ready to get started.

You tapped his shoulder, insinuating that you were good to go. He picked his head up from your collarbone, then pressed his forehead against yours as he began to pull out, then push back in.

Both of you gasped silently, gripping one another as a way to express how good it felt. He continued to move, alternating the way he did it, going from rolling his hips in a continuous rhythm to jerkily bucking into you. Carlos was proving to be a spontaneous lover, and you had to admit, you enjoyed being kept on your toes.

Eventually, things started to pick up, and Carlos was now thrusting into you with a feverish desire. You moaned into his mouth as he kissed you, hearing his heavy breathing every time he pulled away for air. You knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he came, and so you decided that you would start making your way to orgasm as well.

One of your arms reached down to your clit, and you began to rub yourself while Carlos buried himself in you. He pulled away from the kiss with a pop, which actually wasn’t as audible, since it was drowned out by the sound of both of your breathing, moaning, and collision of skin. 

He buried his head into your neck, a slur of whines, grunts, and moans escaping his lips.

You listened to his voice, closing your eyes, and focusing on reaching your climax. It didn’t take long after he caught on that you were right there, and whispered in your ear, “Do it. Cum on me. Cum on my cock.”

As you came down from your high, you trembled in Carlos’ arms. You noticed he was starting to become shaky himself, and you were a little worried as you felt his hands wobble underneath your bottom. It was likely that his arms were getting tired from holding you up for a prolonged amount of time.

You pulled his head in close, whispering in his ear. As you did, you heard his breath hitch, panting as if he were desperate for air. “Carlos,” you said, “Let me help you cum. What do you need?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a moan came out at first. “My back���scratch up my back.”

You listened to what he asked, digging your nails into his skin, softly at first, and then a little more rough once you felt him shiver. He seemed to like it a lot.

He continued, which surprised you a little. You thought he would’ve stopped at his one request, but he didn’t. He must’ve been a needy man. “Kiss my neck,” he huffed, “please, Y/N.”

You followed what he asked, kissing on his neck as you clawed up the muscles on his back. It didn’t take much longer after that, and soon enough his entire body was trembling. He thrust a couple more times into you, grunting as he did, and you felt his cock jerk as he spilled his warm seed into the condom. 

As soon as he came, his hands lost most of their grip on holding you, and you unwrapped your legs around his waist, jumping down. You felt him press into you, heaving as if he weren’t getting any air. You smiled and decided to comfort him as he did for you earlier after eating you out.

Pulling him into an embrace, you felt his head rest against the wall, trying to reach your shoulder, but failing as he was too tall. You chuckled and began to rub his back, talking to him in an endearing tone. “You good, Carlos?”

“Yeah–yeah, I’m good.” he huffed, and soon after his response, he pulled back, standing straight as he looked down at you.

“So, was it good? For you, I mean.” He said, running a hand through his hair. 

You laughed, reaching up to caress his cheek. He leaned into your touch. “It was really good. The best I’ve ever had, I’d say.”

He smiled, taking your hand from his cheek and kissing it, “It was good for me, too. Turns out I really like saving damsels-in-distress. Who knew, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. The two of you then continued your back-and-forth witty remarks, while agreeing on going to wash yourselves off quickly in the showers that were a part of the locker room you just had sex in. As you both bathed in separate stalls, you continued to talk, practically yelling over the bustling of the shower head as the water fell.You hoped no one was nearby outside, because it was likely they would have heard you.

Once finished, the two of you got dressed and grabbed your stuff. Luckily enough, the locker room that you went into was the men’s, so Carlos was able to grab his things from the locker he usually uses when on lifeguard duty.

The two of you then walked out of the building together, acting like a newlywed couple. You teased one another, laughing and joking around as you had the entire night.

Once outside, feeling the chill on your skin, you both paused, not sure where to go from there. You both didn’t really want to go your separate ways.

You desperately wanted to ask for his number, but you weren’t sure how to do so in a witty and playful way. You didn’t want to ask outright, because for some reason, even after all you just did, you worried it would come off as desperate. Even though you were desperate.

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off by Carlos. “Hey, so, if it’s alright with you–you wouldn’t mind me asking for your number, would you?”

You giggled, happy that he was thinking of the same thing. “No, I wouldn’t mind at all. I was just thinking of asking the same thing.”

Carlos smiled, and the two of you quickly exchanged numbers. “Make sure to give me a cutesy name and contact photo.” He said playfully grinning at you.

And that gave you an idea. “Hey, why don’t we take a picture right now? That way we both get to have a cute contact photo.”

He smiled, ruffling your hair, and then let you hold your phone up, ready to take the picture. 

“Cheese!” you exclaimed, and he laughed as you pressed the camera button. 

After taking the photo, you sent it to him straight away. The two of you then realized it was getting late, and you couldn’t drag your time on with one another any longer. You said your goodbyes, and both went in different directions to get into your cars.

As soon as you got into your car, you started it and began to think about your night. Your cheeks blushed, and you immediately grabbed your phone. You had to tell your friends what happened.

Unsurprisingly, they all freaked out on you, exclaiming how they were wondering where you went. You laughed a little, typing out a quick summary. After hitting send, one of your friends began to ask strange questions.

“Jill: Wait, what does he look like?”

Puzzled, you typed out a relatively simple description. After a couple of minutes, your friend responded.

“Jill: Wtf I think I know him”

“Jill: He’s in my science class???”

“Jill: Dude sucks at science lmao”

You were a little taken aback by the revelation of Jill knowing Carlos, although you were a little more shocked at him sucking at science. He seemed like a science-y kinda guy.

As you continued to chat with your friends, you got a notification from Carlos. Your heartbeat quickened, and you wondered what he had to say so soon.

Upon opening the notification, you saw that what he had sent was a screenshot of your contact name and profile picture in his phone – it was the selfie the two of you took, along with the name “Damsel.”

You reply with your own screenshot, which also used the selfie the two of you took, while his name was set to “Phelps.” It didn’t take long for him to reply,

“Phelps: Hey, hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to call a gentleman Phelps?”

You laughed out loud, and could already tell you’d be spending the rest of your night talking with Carlos.

Oh well. The night was still young.

For the official and original Kinktober 23 prompts, check here. Credits to @kinktober2023 for the ideas!

[fuck-customers]

Not exactly a fuck customers but more like ‘what the fuck, why are people like this’.

I work at a small library in my little town. Small as in, there are only five people who work here total. So you can probably guess, our building is much smaller than most libraries. We do have an auditorium though, one that takes up like 30% of the building. It can be rented and is used for library programs, but when it’s not being used, the lights are turned off and the two entrances have signs that say that ‘for library use only’ or some such thing, meaning, if there’s nobody in there and the doors are closed, lights are off, it’s off limits to patrons. Makes sense, right?

So the other day, I go in for my afternoon shift as usual. It’s after the holiday so there are a lot of returns. My supervisor goes to grab an extra cart so we can divide up the returns, otherwise I’d never get it done all by myself by we closed. She has to go into the auditorium to get the extra cart, which is locked from the side with the actual library but the other door, which is right by our side exist, must have been open. Anyway, she goes in and while I’m digging through books waiting for her, I hear some sort of conversation/noise but don’t think much of it. About this time I notice a patron come and set up with his laptop at one of work tables and put on his headphones. Our other coworker is on his dinner break and again, I don’t think much of any of this.

Anyway, it gets to be around an hour/half an hour ish before we start closing duties and it’s been slow except for a few people coming and going. During this time we sometimes bullshit while we wait for the clock to run down.

My supervisor notes that the man that was sitting at the work table has finally left and then glances at the security monitor, noting the car that was parked next to mine in the employee parking area of our back lot is now gone.

Come to find out, not only was said guy here right at opening, parked halfway into the employee parking area when that’s a total of like three spots (he’s also not someone she recognized when she’s been there 5+ years), apparently this guy was just chilling in the dark fucking auditorium all day? On his laptop, working away? When we’d been open since 10:30 am and he left at like 7pm? Thats what all the noise I had heard earlier was about. She opened the door to the auditorium to get the extra cart we needed, and just causally found this fucker sitting there, doing his thing? She literally had to say to tell him he was welcome to work online just not in here cause that’s not an area open to the public? I think he apologized but still??? He wouldn’t have even been able to access the wifi without the password. But he was just sitting in there the whole goddamn day. Without anyone knowing. And then it gets dark and he doesn’t even have any of the lights on. There’s signs on both doors about this at eye level? Hun, we couldn’t locked you in and never even known it. The side door is locked 15 mins before close and the other doors can’t be opened from the inside.

I love this job, but some of these people I wanna put under a microscope and study for science.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[dramatic-crying]

good old days // ryan dunn x reader

Writing prompt: "She runs into her high school crush and reminisces about the time that they had a really cute moment"

Summary: While working the closing shift at your job, you run into someone you haven't seen in years.

Work count: ~1.5k

Warnings: MAJOR FLUFF, swearing, cute shit

"Will that be all, sir?" You ask, making drinks for the man currently sitting across the bar counter from you.

"Yeah, whatever. Just put it on my tab, will ya, sweetheart?" He remarks, giving you a wink before walking to his friends halfway across the bar.

"You got it, dick," you say under your breath.

"Hey, Y/N!" You hear to your right. You immediately turn to see your manager walking towards you, your heart instantly dropping when you realize that she might have heard what you just said. However, despite your fears, she smiles at you warmly and says, "You wanna take your 30 minute break now before we get super busy?"

"Yes, please," you exaggerate, smiling at her as you rush towards the back. All you grab is a pack of cigarettes and the small dinner of some fries and chicken strips your coworker had cooked for you at the beginning of your shift. You check the clock, just to check how much of your never-ending shift has passed. 9:17, perfect.

"See ya in half an hour!" You shout to your coworkers before walking out the front door and heading to one of the tables placed in front of the bar. You sit down and quickly dig into your meal, feeling like you haven't eaten in days (when, in reality, it's been about 5 hours).

About eating all the lukewarm french-fries you had, you pause to have a cigarette before having the rest of your food. "Hey, dude! Mind sharing one?" You hear from right behind you. As you glance towards where the voice came from, you find a relatively tall, smiling man with a buzz cut.

You barely mutter out an answer before you see a strong hand land on the shoulder of the first man. As the first man moves out of the way, you see a vaguely familiar face behind him. He's blonde, has enormous blue eyes, and a shit-eating grin on his face, and you could swear you've seen him somewhere before. "Will you stop messing with people while we get food for five goddamn seconds?" He playfully complains, shoving his friend away from you. The blonde then looks to you, while saying, "I'm so sorry about him, he doesn't really know boundaries..." By the end of this man's sentence, his voice has almost completely trailed off and his friend heads back into the restaurant. He just... stares into your eyes for what feels like an eternity. He shakes his head a moment later, breaking eye contact. "I should go," he mumbles, beginning to leave.

"Wait!" You shout, expressing the only words you could muster in this entire situation. You turn around in your chair to be able to fully see the mystery man. You chuckle slightly as you realize you have this random man's entire attention. "You just look really familiar," you chuckle as you sweep your hair out of your face. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound weird at all."

He lets out a little giggle and moves the sunglasses he was wearing to sit on top of his head. "I was actually gonna say the same thing about you," he admits, taking a few steps closer. You gesture to the other end of the table you're sitting at.

"Wanna join me?" You suggest, taking another pull of your cigarette. He looks unsure for a few seconds, then begins to move over to the table, taking the seat that you offered. He suddenly holds his hand out to you and says, "I'm Ryan, by the way."

You take his hand and respond, "I'm Y/N." After this action, the man, who you now know as Ryan, smiles twice as big as he did before. "Did you happen to go to Westchester High?"

Ryan's eyes widen with realization as his mouth drops open. "Oh my god, of fucking course! I totally should've recognized you, you were in my P.E. class, right?" Your face begins to feel warm as blush rushed to your cheeks, but you still answer his question.

"I think so, yeah. The teacher, Mr. Wilson, was always a fuckin' bitch to you," you exclaim while chuckling. Ryan covers his face in embarrassment.

"Well, can't say I didn't deserve it since I ditched his class most of the time."

"So, what have you been doing since high school?" You inquire, hoping to continue this conversation with a long-lost acquaintance.

He clears his throat, and you shift in your seat in anticipation of his answer. "Well, I actually started filming movies with my friends, and we just started filming a T.V. show with some other really cool guys."

You can feel your eyes widen in surprise; it's not every day that someone you used to know happens to be famous. "Holy shit, good for you!"

He shakes his head while laughing small bit. "Yeah, well, it can get pretty hectic every once in a while." You scoff in response and say, "Don't tell me that you're complaining about being famous."

He shrugs his shoulders with a neutral look on his face. "What can I say, I'm not much of an extrovert."

You nod your head and say, "Yeah, I guess that's fair."

"What about you?" He questions. "What have you been up to?"

Just before you were about to answer, your manager comes out of the bar and begins to yell to you. "Y/N, what are you doing?? It's been 45 minutes!"

You whip back around to Ryan with a terrified look on your face. You were about to apologize, but the blonde man stopped you. "It's okay," he declares, smiling at you. "We can reminisce in the good old days later, maybe after you get off of work?"

Instantly, you nod in response. "Absolutely, um... I get off at 1."

"Oof, long night," he responds.

"I know," you say, giggling.

"Well, whatever. It's worth it," Ryan admits, his puppy-dog eyes staring straight into your soul.

You bite your lip. "Okay, see ya later." And, with that, you go back into the restaurant.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was finally time for you to go home, and you couldn't wait. You rushed out of the bar as fast as you could, ensuring you had all your belongings with you, so you didn't have to return until your next shift.

As you step outside, you feel the slight trickle of light rain. "Great," you sigh, soon realizing you were going to have to walk home in the pouring rain. You hear someone greet you out of nowhere and you shriek slightly in surprise. However, not surprisingly, you soon see Ryan doubled over, laughing his ass off. What a dick. "Jesus, what the fuck were you doing in the shadows?? You're gonna give someone a fuckin' heart attack one day," you exclaim, holding your hand over your heart.

"Oh my god, you should've seen your face!" Ryan cries, still hysterically laughing. "You jumped like three feet into the air!"

"Shut up," you groan, walking over and shoving him slightly. He finally begins to calm down, but it's extremely easy to tell his eyes were tearing up with how hard he was laughing. "What are you even doing here still?"

"Well, I mean, you said we could talk after you get off of work, so I just thought I would... wait for you," he says.

You raise your eyebrows, and he seems to catch onto the reason why.

"Okay, so that sounded a lot less creepy in my head. But do you think I could at least walk you home?"

You take a few seconds to think, but it really isn't even a question for you. "Sure, why not?"

He grins in response and holds out his hand for you to take. You roll your eyes but take his hand anyway.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It only took about 15 minutes to walk back to your apartment, but the entire time you two were laughing like idiots while reminiscing about the stupid shit you did in high school.

"Right, right, and then Raab ended up getting expelled because of it!" Ryan yells.

"For smearing shit all over the school's lockers?" You cry in disgust.

Ryan hums in response and giggles once again. Once you two had properly calmed down, you point out that you both had arrived at your apartment. It almost looks as though Ryan is upset as he walks you up to your apartment building's front door. You both stop in front of the building, and he gently takes your hands in his.

"I know this is gonna sound weird, and possibly creepy, but you are really, really pretty. Beautiful, even." He remarks, biting his lip as though he's pondering what to say next.

"Yes?" You question, urging him to speak what's on his mind.

"Can I... kiss you?" He sheepishly looks up at you through his eyelashes.

You scoff and say, "Is that even a question?" You then cautiously grab his chin and bring him in for a passionate kiss. After almost 10 seconds, you both pull back for air. He rests his forehead on yours.

"Wow," he says in awe.

You slowly pull back his face to find that his cheeks are slightly dusted pick. "Do you wanna know something?" You whisper. He just nods his head in response. "I've been waiting for you to do that since high school."

[glacierbash]

Y'know, any time I start to talk about this game, I feel obligated to lead with the funniest fact I have: I absolutely hated Final Fantasy, for myriad reasons both personal and amusing. I hated, for example, the way Elezen were shaped. I hated that Lalafell looked so young. I hated that everybody acted like it was so great, and by sheer contrarian nature I decided I would simply never play this game. And for quite some time, that worked! I'd bombard my partner with whatever media algorithms recommended me involving FFXIV, just to make fun of it. I detested this MMO, without having ever tried it. And yet, deep down, I knew I wanted a community. I wanted to be around people, even if through an online medium. When I worked at the library, my coworker set up a WoW private server that I spent some time fucking around in, but deep down I wanted people. Try as I might, I couldn't deny some part of me wanted to see what the game was all about.

So, I tried it. I spent 30 minutes exactly between opening the character creator to first posting a name that, genuinely, would define more than 2 years of my life: Iverelle Vauvenelle.

I spend about 2 days playing the game, one being chased around by strangers who my partner swore were good people, and one just questing on my own--and it was fine. I got to MSQ level 24, quite literally one quest away from being able to travel to other city states, and I stopped. I played my fair share, I played 5 hours, and I decided the game wasn't for me. I put it down for several months, when I was approached by somebody who I am no longer friends with. He said I should play the game again, keep going just long enough to travel to Gridania, so that I could see one of his alts--and maybe, we could play together! I didn't want to upset him, so I said "fine," and gave it another try.

By the end of the week, I was finishing up ARR, and moving into post patch, and something just... Changed for me. I'm not sure what it was, honestly. It's not like the game magically changed for me then, or if Iverelle had become perhaps my most meaningful character ever, but something shifted, and I found myself enjoying the game. It didn't even make sense to me then when I bought a subscription to the game, but I knew that something here was special. I just... Had to.

Post patch took me about a month, with multiple days spent stressing out over queuing into Good King Mogglemog out of fear and anxiety, because the trial was labeled as hard and my disorder was, frankly, at its worst. But, I managed to do so anyways. The victory was meaningless for most people, but for me? It was beyond words, just how important it was that I did content with other people, especially considering I went through all of ARR solo.

I made it to the end of ARR, to the infamous cutscene, when I realized I was sick with covid. In VC with two of my friends, I said the infamous line: "I think I have a fever." What a way to enter Heavensward, huh? I think it is in no small part due to Covid that Heavensward ended up being my favorite expansion of all time, and why Ysayle Dangoulain ended up being my favorite character of all time. Sickness and quarantine gave me all the time in the world, and being far too sick to be anxious, I sped through the story. One week later, I was done with Heavensward.

And of course, by now, I am finished with Endwalker and awaiting Dawntrail. For 2 years of my life now, I have been playing this game nigh daily. I stay up late playing it, I finish my daily responsibilities as soon as possible to play it, and I find myself enjoying it. I never thought that would happen, truth be told. More importantly than enjoying the game itself, though, is the friends I met.

I have lived a very isolated life. Partially due to my anxiety making me extremely averse to interacting with people, and partially due to how I've been raised, I struggle a lot with people. Autism, anxiety, and having not been properly socialized made me terrible. I longed for new friends, but I hated the effort that went into it. Imagine my surprise when one day, I found myself driving out to meet people who I play this game with, to spend time with them? When I found myself wanting to meet them?

And yet, here I was. I was driving out to meet these people who I play this game with--and more importantly, they wanted to meet me. Even as I think back on that day, I start to tear up. It was one of the most important days of my life. Were it not for this game, for playing it daily, for being dragged into a Free Company and for sitting in calls with people because of this game, I would not have known these people. They are some of the most important people in my life.

I think of the late nights playing Mahjong, or doing PVP, or treasure maps, or just sitting around talking. I think of those nights and then having to wake up early for work, waking up exhausted but so happy. I think of staying up until damn near 5 in the morning talking about whatever it is that comes to mind. I think about stupid inside jokes, and shared experiences, and the stories that I'll tell for years to come.

It's just a game. Final Fantasy XIV is, at the end of the day, just a game--and yet, that game has served as a way for me to grow as a person in ways I've never thought possible. My anxiety has not magically been cured, mind; but, when I'm able to talk to strangers and my heartrate doesn't skyrocket, when I'm able to do things in this game that once terrified me, when I'm able to exist comfortably not just in this game but in the outside world, I realize that it's done more for me than I'll ever be able to say. Yes, it is just a game, but people play a game due to a shared interest, no? And through that shared interest, friendships can blossom. To say that I love my friends, the people I met ultimately because of this game, would be an understatement, and I fear I do not make that clear enough.

Stupid as it is to say, Final Fantasy XIV has changed my life, for the better. Dawntrail is coming in just a few short hours, and though I am a whirlwind of emotions, the predominant one is excitement. I was there for the end of an era, and now I am here for the start of a new one.

So thank you. If you read all the way through this, thank you. If you skimmed just to the end, thank you. Thank you to my friends, especially. I would not be here as I am now were it not for you all.

Here's to a new adventure, friends :^] (Second screenshot featuring: @gailiag, the best viera on hydaelyn)

[marnz]

just trying to figure out work thoughts

right now at work we're in an interesting period where we finally have the funding and availability and candidates to hire a bunch of new people, but they are overwhelmingly inexperienced and require a lot of training. our training methods suck, to put it bluntly. all reference manuals are anywhere from 5-15 years out of date, information is scattered across 7 onenotes and several different websites, and some of the supervisors (people who train) are not good at training! for various reasons! i have been working on trying to come up with an alternate training method, and i've been interviewing my coworkers on their thoughts and opinions, their ideas, their experience. but i'm not super happy about where we are right now because our work is changing, and we aren't prepared for it due to staffing issues. this is where it actively becomes my problem. and i do train people whenever they ask because we have so many people here for months who don't know basic aspects of the work, due to the fucked up training methods. also some people i train prefer me training them to their supervisors, and like...i'm all for helping out coworkers, i am always happy to train and teach and share knowledge, but i'm not getting paid for this. why am i doing this supervisor's job? etc.

a temporary supervisor position has opened up and i am interested in it. not only would it be a raise, but it would let me implement my training plan! i could help fix this problem we have! training methods and making sure people are well trained is important to me not just for workload reasons but because my prior experience and training was Hellish and i was miserable, and it's important to me that people at this job get the experience and training they need in a supportive and healthy work environment. teachers matter.

however two things about the temp super position give me pause.

workload - they won't shift my current workload around, it will just be added on, so I will take on a ton of extra responsibilities and actually do more than the average super because we are so staffing constrained. i worry about this, i already have a heavy workload and on top of that i am a union officer, which requires a lot of work.

role - my main role in my office right now is that i'm the guy that's like "why? and what about x issue? and what is management's plan to address y? and in light of this situation, what steps are we taking to fix z? what if we did this instead? how can we work together to make this not suck quite as much? and how did this come to pass?" which i always assumed made me extremely annoying but it does mean i have a lot of background knowledge as to how my job works, and funding, and bargaining, and HR, and everything. i always look for the full picture. i want to assemble the mosaic. that's my passion. my boss told me that he values this about me and we will meet so he can answer my questions and we can brainstorm. he'll do this with anyone--that's what makes this place great--but most people do not take this opportunity. whatever. anyway i worry that this is a necessary role that will be diminished if i become part of management.

I never really saw this as a necessary role so much as me being me I guess. I always have a thousand questions. My favorite word is "why?" And I have had my coworkers thank me for saying some of the stuff I say, for pushing back. But I didn't see it as a necessary role until someone who has been here for 30 years asked to take me out to lunch to pick my brain. Which made me realize that 1) i know so many people who have been incredibly generous with their time and energy to me, explaining how stuff works, and i need to pass this on 2) this is important and necessary. It let me stop feeling guilty about always pushing, I guess.

also I don't want to be part of management in a punitive way, especially since I am also a steward. but the pay increase would be nice, and I wonder if I would be a more effective advocate in management meetings. to say 'hey actually no, or that's a bad idea, or here's a common sense suggestion we haven't taken for 20 years for some reason.' this position is pretty low on the management track, to the point that i would still be in the union (most of the time supervisors cannot be in a union with those they supervise).

right now...my work has this culture of micro managing. there are several obvious issues with training, and who does what, and succession. my boss really wants to fix this but it's slow going. we're in an exciting time as the work changes and our roles change. we get to improve training and specialize. even before this position opened up my boss told me he wanted to help me work on standardizing and improving training across the org, and said he thinks it will probably complement my union work. so idk, it's obviously not the end of the world if i don't get this temporary position. i just worry that if i do get it, i will regret it.

anyway. thoughts/suggestions welcome. thank u.

[strayfoxxchan]

Pairing: Bang Chan (Chris) x f!reader (Y/N)

Genre: Fluff, Soulmate AU

Content Warning: Mentions of Nicotine Use, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption

A/N: Hi Stayblr! This is my first post here and is likely to be a multi-chapter endeavor (I have 5 chapters written, yikes). It’s a collaboration between myself (the writer) and my husband and sister (who had all the ideas). Sorry in advance, this series is going to be long!

Chapter 1

Seoul was something else, another world entirely separate from the country she called home. The towering city skyline mingling with winding streets and hilly suburbs was like a maze to explore. The people, the food, the culture…  Maybe it would be good for her to get out of her comfort zone. So when the company she was working for had an opening to transfer to Korea, she jumped headfirst into it without looking back. 

It certainly wasn’t glamorous at first. The sum total of all the Korean she knew was learned from watching K-dramas and listening to K-pop. Moving into a corporate-owned apartment was harder than Y/N would have expected, as she attempted to explain to the movers in broken Korean that her apartment was on the 12th floor. Learning her bus route was an unmitigated disaster for a time. Speaking to her colleagues resulted in some pretty hilarious misunderstandings. But the longer she was there, the easier it became. 

Y/N still had hard nights. She didn’t leave home for more than groceries, work, and a cigarette down in the courtyard. It was a monotonous life, to be sure. She was a bit shy, and most of her coworkers were much younger than her. She was pushing 30 and had a hard time making friends with all these kids who had grown up in such a different environment than she had. But, she enjoyed her job, and her apartment was certainly nicer than the one back home, so Y/N couldn’t complain too much. 

–

Y/N tended to keep a fairly tight schedule: 

7:00 Wake up. Shower. Makeup. 8:00 Bagel. Smoke. Bus. 9:00 Work. 6:00 Bus. Smoke. 7:00 Dinner. Netflix. 9:00 Draw. Relax. 10:00 Wind down. Get ready for bed. 11:00 Stare at the ceiling until sleep eventually comes to visit. 

During her morning smoke break, her carefully crafted schedule slowly began to unravel. As she rushed downstairs, bagel and cigarette in hand, she was met with a not altogether unfamiliar sight, but an unwelcome one: rain. Of course, it had to rain. Of course, she had forgotten her umbrella upstairs. Of course, it was a day that she had a presentation. 

“Fuck you, you fucking fuck,” Y/N mumbles to herself, maybe a little louder than intended. Normally, Y/N would love a rainy day. It didn’t rain much where she grew up, and she had always loved the way the rain seemed to wash away the dirt and grime of life in a city. Steeling herself for a bad hair day and a soggy cigarette, she takes a step out from under the shelter of the building.

Mysteriously, she doesn’t get wet. The rain seems to part around her.

“우산을 잊으셨나요?” A chuckle rings out behind Y/N, and she spins to meet her savior. As soon as Y/N makes eye contact, she spins directly back around, shutting her eyes tightly and willing herself to wake up from this bizarre and life-like dream. 

“Oh, fuck??” It takes every ounce of dexterity in her body not to drop her bagel on the ground.

“Y-you… okay?” The warm voice speaks up again.

“Yeah, yeah, just… trying to figure out why Christopher Bahng is standing behind me with an umbrella.”

“Ah… 네…” Chris giggles, a tinge of awkward nervousness sneaking into his voice. “Sorry, Yeah… I just… I see you out here often and I am convinced you don’t know how to check the weather. I don’t think I have ever seen you with an umbrella.”

Y/N turns on her heel to look him in the eye again, forgetting he was a little closer than she remembered. “You… see me often? Are you stalking me?” She is mostly joking. But how would THE Bang Chan see her here often when she had never once seen him?

Seeming to read her thoughts, Chris replies quickly. “I live here, too. My bedroom is right next to the window,” he motions up at the building. “I see you take your smoke break every morning,” he pauses for a moment. “You know that’s not–”

“Not good for you, I know, I know. Bad habits. Old dog. Y/N,” she introduces herself, putting her bagel in her mouth and holding her now-free hand toward him.

“Chris, Christopher, Bang, Bang Chan, Chan, Channie, but you already knew that apparently,” he takes her hand and shakes it. “Sorry if I spooked you.” He scratches his head.

“No, no, that’s alright. I just wasn’t expecting my b– I just wasn’t expecting you to show up here,” she says after pulling the bagel back out of her mouth. He didn’t need to know he was her bias.

“Come on, let’s get you your smoke break,” Chris ushers her to her usual spot in the courtyard, careful to keep the umbrella over them both as she lights up. 

For a while, they sit in awkward silence before she finally musters up the courage to say anything. “For the record, no, I don’t check the weather. What’s life without a little surprise?”

“I would guess that I’ve given you the biggest surprise of your life this morning,” that smile could have parted the rain clouds easily.

“Who doesn’t want to start their morning with a mild heart attack,” Y/N laughs. “Thank you for,” she waves her hand at the umbrella, “this.”

Chris smiles shyly, a light flush rising on his cheeks. Y/N might have mistaken the flush for the cool air wrapping them tightly. “Nah, it’s nothing. I’ve maybe been waiting for an excuse to talk to you.” The cigarette falls out of her hand as she coughs and splutters. Chris jumps up, patting her back. “Y/N?? Are you okay? Breath,” he strokes her hair as she struggles momentarily.

“An excuse to talk to ME?” Y/N says between choking fits. 

“Despite how it might seem, it wasn’t my intention to almost kill you twice in one day,” Chris laughs as she dramatically clutches at her chest. He sits a bit closer to Y/N now that the coughing has calmed down, rubbing her back with one hand while continuing to shield her from the rain. Y/N stiffens a bit before calming into his hand. This whole moment feels surreal. “But yeah, just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean a random girl smoking at exactly 8 am every single day under my window wouldn’t pique my interest, even just a little. It’s Y/N’s turn to blush. 

The bus pulls up across the courtyard and Y/N suddenly remembers she is not, in fact, on a date with her bias, and does have a very important presentation to get to. Chris glances past her and hands her the umbrella. “You can give it back later. Have a good day doing… whatever it is you do, mystery girl.” He gets up, pats her head, and dashes to the entryway of the building, shielding his head from the rain. 

–

Chris heads back up to the dorm, his heart racing. He couldn’t quite tell if it was from the sprint through the rain or the adrenaline rush of having spoken to Y/N after all this time. He was tired. He had been in the studio until almost 4 am this morning and had only gotten a few hours of sleep before waking for the day’s schedule. Honestly, it had been pure luck that they met (and pure luck that he’d had his umbrella). He hadn’t planned on… well, ever meeting her. He didn’t have much time for flirting between hours spent working on music and seemingly endless schedules and fleeting visits and dinners with friends. Had he not run out of the dorm for a quick breakfast, he might not have come across her in the courtyard.

She was prettier in person. The details of her face were usually lost to the distance from his 10th-floor bedroom window. Up close, her skin was soft, her eyes big and round. She didn’t bother with clean, fresh idol makeup, the dark shadow around her eyes somehow made their unique color all that more striking. Her business suit had been black (probably his favorite color) and the shirt peeking out from the lines of her suit collar had been a lovely shade of burgundy. She felt like autumn. The pencil skirt and sheer black tights served to lengthen her frame, though she was quite short. And those heels…

Chris shakes his head, trying to dust away the wandering thoughts. He had too much to do today to be distracted. He needed a clear mind to get through today’s interviews and performances. He put her from his mind, though the feeling of her hair on his fingertips lingered.

–

The presentation went off without a hitch, albeit a bit slower than Y/N had practiced. She hadn’t prepared with the intention of having a wandering mind from the events of the morning. The rest of the day is just as agonizingly slow. Y/N and her colleagues have worked out a silly system: they speak to her in English, and she speaks to them in Korean. They correct each other when the need arises and it seems to be working out better than expected. Communication is becoming easier every day. But today, Y/N seems to continue to forget everything she had learned up until this point. The whole day has felt like one of those dreams where each time you take a step, you seem to never move forward. 

Why would Bang Chan ever want to talk to someone as boring (and old and normal) as her? He seems to be surrounded by beautiful, talented idols, and one would think that he could have his pick of the bunch– she’s nothing special. She doesn’t have money, fame, or any special talent to speak of. And when it comes to Korean beauty standards or even western beauty standards… Well, she doesn’t have that either. She is exceedingly normal. Y/N decides not to dwell on it. She would drive herself crazy thinking of all the how’s and what’s and why’s. 

As the day comes to a close, Y/N gathers her things and says her goodbyes. She pulls out the umbrella and makes her way to the bus. The bus glides along the streets of the glittering rain-soaked city. Thoughts of Christopher’s smiling, dimpled face and big warm hands on her upper back keep her mind in a slightly confused daze. And finally, she is home. 

Y/N disembarks the bus and makes her way back to her spot in the courtyard on autopilot, pulling her pack of cigarettes from her purse.

“Hi,” the voice breaking the misty quiet nearly causes her to jump out of her skin. 

“Chris,” she clutches her chest in a mirror of her earlier start. “You’ll bring me to an early grave, sir.” He beams in a self-satisfied way. 

“I am here to reclaim my umbrella,” he pats the spot next to him, “and to ask how your day was?” His heart picks up pace, only just enough to be noticeable.

Y/N smirks at him, taking her place on the damp concrete and relinquishing ownership of the umbrella. The two sit and talk for what feels like hours, about everything and nothing. She explains to Chris the nuances of being a graphic designer in a country whose language doesn’t quite come naturally to her, and he could talk forever about the kids and his music. They spend just as much time laughing as they do chatting. 

[sneakyspades]

ok yknow what im just gonna straight up vent about work rn bc i ran out of tags on the other post

its become such a fucking shitshow down there jesus christ i cannot fucking stand it anymore. communication doesnt exist, i dont even remember the last time back of house had a fucking meeting. the owner pushed for us to stay open during a blizzard where it was a wind chill of -40. i mean holy fuck, the city said dont travel unless its an emergency

i had issues on sunday that i wasnt sure about, but our chef was out of town doing a show with his band, and our sous chef was sitting at the bar in the restaurant a good 5 or 6 beers deep by the time i ran into this problem. i asked the other supervisor (who agrees with me that this is a shitshow) and he wasnt sure either so we straight up guessed

i only make 15 an hour despite having been there for a whole fucking year, because i only get supervisor pay when im clocked in as supervisor. which is a measly 8 of my 40 hours. but god forbid i dont act like a supervisor for all 40 hours

insurance is unsustainably expensive there. my coworker who makes 13.50 an hour takes home *more than i do per paycheck* at this point. and he works 32 hours! i havent taken home more than 750 a pay check since getting insurance! i used to be grossing 1000! IM LITERALLY PAYING 175 DOLLARS EVERY PAY CHECK! AND THATS ABOUT TO GO UP TO ALMOST 180 WHEN I TURN 27! im not making any fucking money! im not getting any savings!

not to mention they fucked up my insurance not that long ago! i was told at the doctors office and the pharmacy that i had zero coverage! but they were still taking money from my fucking paycheck for it! like holy fuck i shouldve talked to goddamn lawyer about that instead of giving them the benefit of the doubt!

i was 110% fine with making 15 an hour and doing nothing but pizzas. because the trade off was that i could cut out early, i could trade shifts, if i got sick it wasnt fucking everyone else over. but now i cant do any of that. i have to close on saturdays, dont get home and in bed until 1:30 some nights, and then have to get up and go do a 10 hour shift every sunday. every weekend! every fucking weekend! and im the only one that does that anymore! im not the only one doing a double on sunday, but im the only one who has to close the night before. and because im just exhausted by the end of a sunday, my mondays are practically wasted because im catching up on sleep!

i like. cant fucking do this anymore. i cant think of any reason why im still there. i could go worl at fucking sams club in the bakery, start at the same wage (if not more), have *less* responsibilities, be doing something i want to do, and they close at 8 every day. i dont think theyre even open on sundays!

why am i still working there? its not sustainable for me anymore. my body is fucked. its falling apart ahead of schedule. i cant even open my door in the morning because of carpal tunnel. im 26 and when i crouch down i cant always get back up. the other night my ankle just started popping every time i turned around. what am i doing? what am i doing. i dont know.

i dont even have energy left over to draw. or make stained glass. or even do a discord call. the last time i had an actual date with my partner was, what, like 4 fucking months ago? i dont have any energy left over. im using it all for a place that i dont enjoy working at anymore, and i know i wont get better hours. our sous chef has been here since the place opened and he only has night shifts. the only day he doesnt is sunday. which is 8am to 3pm.

our new hire has sunday-monday off. why cant i have that? i want a weekend day off. its not gonna happen in this industry. its not gonna happen in this kitchen. i cant do this for the next however many years,

[chilope]

I posted 4,979 times in 2022

That's 2,463 more posts than 2021!

555 posts created (11%)

4,424 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@triviallytrue

@sapphicdisclosures

@dingdongyouarewrong

@heat--end

@existentialvibeology

I tagged 1,400 of my posts in 2022

#yeah - 24 posts

#me - 22 posts

#neyenz - 13 posts

#:( - 11 posts

#:) - 10 posts

#sigh - 9 posts

#literally - 7 posts

#lol. lmao. - 6 posts

#god - 6 posts

#hmm - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#'no i can kiss girls because im so comfortable with my heterosexuality! thats why i joke about being in love with women! im just so straight

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

when i first started following yorick i thought "its a little uncomfortable to insist that a man who identifies as straight is actually gay just because hes on tumblr" but i get it now

42 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#4

yo whats yudkowskys deal tho

86 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

#3

she e on my e til i cummings

109 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

#2

a series of events

my experiment relies on the use of liquid nitrogen

we ran out of liquid nitrogen last week

we were supposed to get more delivered this morning

one of the delivery trucks left with all of the specialized tank dollies and would not be able to return until the end of the day

our delivery gets delayed until tomorrow

in order to not waste an entire day we decide to borrow some from an affiliated lab

on the way there it starts raining

we aquire the liquid nitrogen, stored in our small transport dewar

transport dewar is not pressurized, meaning the nitrogen gases off as it sits

nitrogen has no smell and is lethal if too much is inhaled so we store it in the trunk

we make it 95% of the way back to the lab before taking a turn a little too hard, causing the dewar to tip over and begin draining hard enough that we can hear it in the cabin

beloved coworker pulls over immediately so i can jump out and put it upright before we lose all of it or the trunk of her car freezes

she happened to have accidentally pulled into the entrance to the fire station

i jump out at max speed to minimize chances of getting hit by a fire truck

we are parked inside of a 2 inch deep puddle

i am wearing toms

i open the trunk

it is filled with nitrogen gas and extremely cold

the dewar fell onto the handle, meaning i had to grab the tank in order to right it

it is so cold i burn myself

we make it back to the lab without further incident

my shoes are soaking wet, but my boss always has 18 pairs of rubber sandals in his office so i figure ill just put on his sandals and put my shoes in the oven to dry

he took all of his sandals home on friday for some fucking reason

fuck it, ill just go barefoot and sit in the break room

put my shoes in the oven

wait 30 minutes

retrieve shoes

they are still soaking wet and now the oven smells like feet

154 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

she was a boy, he was a girl, can i make it any more obvious?

214 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

I was on my phone and suddenly got a call at 4:30am (I'm an insomniac so I don't really sleep). But I was thinking, who the shit calls at that time unless it's life or death? But also, I didn't recognize the number, and figured maybe it was spam.

Lo and behold, they left a voicemail. I listened. And... it was corporate people saying they needed a person of my position to go to the store and fix something. At 4:30 in the fucking morning.

Thing is, about a month ago I'd accidentally locked my keys in the back store, at the time they closed. I realized it 5 minutes after, and called the head of that department asking if she could come open it for me and I could grab my keys. She was almost 2 hours away, so she couldn't do that reasonably. She said she'd call the other department workers, though, and get back to me. When she did call back, everyone was home and said they didn't want to come back, that a 10 or 20 minute drive back to the store would be too much. 6+ people. All saying no. To a short drive. To help a coworker.

Meanwhile, I myself live 20 minutes from the job, and the number of times I've had to come back at midnight or later to fix something for somebody because nobody else would do it, is absolutely insane. And there I was, with nobody willing to return the favor. I had to leave my keys and car overnight, and a coworker's partner drove me home. I came back the next day with my mother to get my car and keys.

And I said to myself as I drove home that day, the next time corporate calls for someone to come back to the store at any time to fix something, someone else can do it. Not me. Nobody came to my rescue the single time I needed it after working there several years. I always came to their rescue, though. It was time I returned the favor.

And today, at 4:30am, I couldn't be happier in my life that I ignored a call. Who the hell wants to drive out at this time to the edge of one of the country's top 10 worst and most violent cities, anyway, all alone, when it's pitch black out???

I loaded up some old stories I'd written on my phone, and began reading until my eyes got tired. And now, it's time to sleep, knowing I did the right thing, and returned the favor.

[winderlylandchime]

Hello, i am coming to you with simply just updates that are just about the idiot..i mean my brother. I have two messages that i just have to send you. He had a doctor check up on Monday and then afterwards PT and yesterday he had his therapy session. And i have been dying to let you all know how it went! Starting off: we got to his check up and he got into the office and decided to try and hide his cast in his hoodie. Mind you it was his doctor’s coworker that gave him the cast so it’s in his file. Anyway his doctor walks in and goes ‘(his name), no need to hide it. We had a meeting this morning and we spent at least 30 minutes talking about you.’ And my brother is looking at him completely speechless and the doctor goes ‘and only 10 of those minutes were dedicated to the actual reason for this check up.’ You guys, my brother was flabbergasted. He was dead silent for like 5 minutes and then while checking his scars or whatever the doctor out of nowhere goes ‘….queer eye? Really?’ And THE NURSE LAUGHED BUT COVERED IT UP AS A COUGH. And my brother looked at them and goes ‘i thought we were friends and yes, I may have some regrets’

2nd story: after that he had PT and he BEGGED me to stay with him because he was scared of his doctor finding out about the broken wrist. He obviously decided to once again try and hide it. And his PT doctor walks up to him (remember Brian?) and before my brother even goes into that room he stops and goes ‘first things first Bri, who have you been talking to lately?’ The answer was no one but my brother was still suspicious. And the first thing he did was, he gave him an exercise where he would throw a ball to him and he had to catch it with both of his hands and my brother just stood there and goes ‘why don’t we do some leg work today’ and the guy goes *long silence* ‘cause….you didnt have leg surgery?’ And my brother goes ‘its just, i might not be able to do *waves his left arm to the ball* that’ and the doctor goes ‘okay whats up? Youre acting weirder than usual’ and this dumbass goes ‘don’t freak out but *pulls his cast out of the pocket of his hoodie* surprise’ and Brian the doctor goes ‘excuse my language and unprofessionalism but what the fuck did you do now?’ And then he told him the whole story and the guys only reaction was putting his head in his hands and going ‘what am i gonna do with you?’

3rd story from yesterday is short for obvious reasons but it made my mom laugh: my brother asked me if i could help him set up for his therapy session (aka he needed me to bring him water/pills/etc and open up his pills for him, which btw earlier that day he struggled for 5 minutes trying to open it and then went to my neighbor for help and she wasn’t home either so he went down to two other houses to know on the door to help him open his pill bottle) and I’m helping him out and in that time his therapist shows up on zoom. And my brother explains he needs some help so if he can just give us a second so i can leave. And then while I was helping him he goes ‘(his therapists name) guess what? Wait no, don’t guess, let me just show you’ *shows him his cast* ‘ta-daaaa’ and his therapist went ‘(his name), what the fuck?’

So all three doctors had similar reactions and they all made me laugh. I feel like they’re all fed up with him, counting down the days to any type of a break they can get from him.

Thank you for this update dear sweet anon. I cannot get over his doctors’ reactions to his broken wrist. They are so over him and his antics.

We had a meeting this morning and we spent at least 30 minutes talking about you.’ And my brother is looking at him completely speechless and the doctor goes ‘and only 10 of those minutes were dedicated to the actual reason for this check up.

Okay but have none of the doctors checked out QAF? If I had a client this obsessed, I may be curious enough to check it out!

The nurse cough-laughing is hilarious!

[wtd28]

a thought occurred to me the other day. i would like to recount it to maintain the memory.

when my grandmother passed at the stunning age of 95, it both did and did not catch me by surprise. my dad, her son and youngest, and my mom, being the POAs and the only ones to give a shit outside of her church group and one of my aunts - my dad's sister - for several years prior, saw it coming. at 5:14am on a thursday my dad called me, and being that i am an insomniac, i answered. he said, "i guess you know why i'm calling."

"yeah. what's the next step?"

"we will let you know later today."

i went to work and did my thing. i didn't feel much outside of a vague sense of sorrow that she passed, but she had been in bad shape anyway so it was to be expected. all my coworkers were very kind and offered sympathy, which i felt i did not deserve because i felt no grief, just a sense of duty. they all asked if i needed to leave early, to which i declined and said there was no need because the overlap of my days off worked out just fine. later that day, i bought a handle of gin for when i was in the hotel room and drove the four hours there. memama, which is how we called her, desired a funeral where we all wore a champagne pink, rosé wine, blush colored piece at the event because it was her favorite color. the last time i saw her at the old folks' home she was still wearing pink. i own exactly one thing in pink so i wore it and my parents definitely appreciated it. we ordered pizza the night before.

day of. good aunt and uncle and my family hung out in memama's house. it was built by hand by my granddad in the early 60s. it still has that style to this day. an electric piano with nicotine yellow stained keys and a dusty 8-track stereo sat adjacent to a low television with carpeting on the speakers. as a kid, i would watch tv on it and watch the static lift the hair on my arms whenever i would touch the screen. if it worked and didn't weigh a metric ton i would have asked to keep it. instead, i got her collection of 8-tracks and cassettes.

the funeral was held in the same church where my parents got married over 30 years ago. from her house, it is down a steep hill, up another steep hill, toward the end of the address where a piss yellow painted brick mechanic / oil shop sits on the right and a log and tarp store of secondhand items lies to the left. go straight on past shoebox stucco houses older than me and no larger than an apartment living room bracket the road on both sides until you reach the church. it's typical baptist fare - brick build, rectangular with a small outcropping and a basketball court that my dad went and played on to mitigate his horrible cloying grief after his own dad died not a month before he and my mom got married, and that's where my memama had her final service in this life.

it is cosmically funny that the only people to sob and sniffle were the ones who barely gave a shit while she was alive, if not made her life harder. she was very kind and naive, and people around her took advantage of that like razor-teethed river fish against the pond cleaner.

it was closed casket, thank goodness. the spray of flowers were majority sent by my dad's work associates. there were at least twelve, and ten, maybe eleven, were sent by them, all in various shades of pink, purple, and yellow, with fresh and lively green stems and leaves. they stood in stark contrast to the almost burnt colored oak of all the bland furnishings and pews.

i have a shit extended family, but i will give one of my stupid cousins credit. one of my aunts, for some ungodly reason, lifted the casket open to peer at her mother in death, probably for sympathy points. she is... a character. well, she did that and turned to my cousin, her daughter, and said, "she looks so peaceful now," and my cousin guffawed and went, "mom, she looks like a corpse." which was true. i think her final weight at the end was in the eighty pound range. what fucking else is a wasted away elderly dead woman supposed to look like?

my dad and i did not cry, my sister and mother got sniffles and wept. people who did not matter or have any say about anything or have any attachment to us were sobbing like they had any leverage for anything. fuck em. holed up in the rusting sky blue trailer on the hill where i remember playing with a raccoon named rusty when i was a kid. they mean jack shit to me.

pre-service, i took a bible and read translation notes. the cousin who made a comment on my grandma's corpse nudged me and said it looked like i was studying. in a way, i was. i was studiously avoiding eye contact by skimming the segments in the old testament. jeremiah. matthew. segments of kindness toward your fellow man, followed up in quick succession by how your fellow man will be put upon the holy block and judged. i hate all religion, but i am simultaneously soothed by it because i know even back when people walked barefoot in the deserts and mountains, kindness still existed.

noon: service starts. my mom scolds me with her teeth showing to put the bible away, and that i can't draw during service. i wasn't planning on drawing, but because i had a pen in hand, that is the assumption. whatever, what fucking ever.

for two hours the service proceeds. the pastor has to be younger than i am. he recounts visiting my grandma during her final week, where she says for him to read a bible verse about kindness towards one another, about care and love, and being surrounded by people. my dad helped facilitate this. he knows the pastor well. people are crying around me. i stare at my left foot, crossed over the ankle with the right, clad in old tights, one flat shoe dangling. i don't cry.

the piano player fucking sucks, or maybe the piano itself sucks, because i hate the music. electric organ bullshit. i don't cry for the entire service. people send me condolences and ask for hugs. i don't know you fucking people, but i hug them and thank them anyway. i'm sweating in this knit pink sweater, black pencil skirt and wool tights. the spray of flowers atop my grandmother's glittering blush pink casket, like it'll explode to life in a shower of sparkles, sits between us all. i hate everyone here, even though i don't know the half of them.

the meeting after is so much more fucking bearable. everyone peeled out as best as they could. it was weird hugging my sobbing extended family members while i basically gave a "yeah yeah" and tried not to shoo them off. do not touch me. the saving grace of it all was hanging out alongside my dad and his friend since elementary school. it is entirely possible to laugh after a funeral. watching my dad and his friend try desperately not to curse inside a church sanctuary as they recounted boyhood stories made me have to choke back laughter behind my plastic cup of water. i really am his kid. nobody else was smiling. but i understand him and his friend. many things are beyond our control. so we must appreciate the experiences we have been given.

we shake hands with the pastor. the service was lovely, it really was, so i thank him with a double-clasped handshake. we pile into the truck, me being the shortest having to jump up and use the side rails.

my sister and i barter with my parents to go to a bar to cap it off. we eat pizza and mozzarella sticks. my dad and i enjoy the ambience of ozzy and metallica. my sister and i sleep in silence and wake up at 6am to go back home. we stop at a bp station for gas and coffee and then by the local liquor store.

she goes home. i go home. life has continued. my dad, upon going down the hill from the cove after the funeral, he commented, "i'm glad i'll never be obligated to go back to this fucking place again."

[khrissanchez98]

"Curiosity is dangerous ."(unfinished story)

It's 7:30 am .I enter the local coffee shop located on a busy street in downtown Des Moines iowa.The sun is coming up and people are on their regular commute to work.Rushing at a pace I refuse to move at nowadays.As far as I'm concerned,I'm just an out of work writer who chose passion over an unsatisfying 9 to 5 ,still not sure if this was the best idea but it suits me for now. As of recent I had just left my wife after finding out she was having an affair with one of her coworkers. Can't remember why the fuck I ever got married.Anyways.It is what it is.Then I'm also dealing with my consistent contemplation on whether or not I even want to continue to live past my late thirties and my unhealthy obsession with death,but I guess I'll discuss that later.

All I know is,today was gonna be different then the rest.

I get my coffee and prepare to pay for it with the little money I have left from working the last odd job I found .Gotta make money somehow for the time being.The baby faced coffee shop employee is too happy for me this morning ,and more than willing to spark up a conversation.And I haven't even had my coffee yet.Kill me now.

"How are you doing today sir,the weather's beautiful today wouldn't you say?"he says With a big bright cheerful smile on his face. His name tag displays that his name is Eric.Of course his names Eric.

I stop for a minute and contemplate what I should say.Then I set both my hands on the counter ,with the little patience I have in me,and look up at him.

"Look um Eric,I can tell your just trying to be nice and I can tell your young and probably still a virgin,so I'm gonna cut you some slack,but I'm gonna be rather blunt with you,maybey save you some trouble in the future.First I can't tell you how my days going yet,and you want to know why? ,it literally just started about an hour ago and not to mention I haven't even had my first coffee yet or my first cigarette,meaning it's too damn early to tell,okay.Second,I just found out about a week ago that my wife,my angel my everything, as you would put it ,is enthusiastically opening her legs for one of her co-workers when I'm not around.So I'm still working on managing the homicidal rage from that little situation.Last but not least,when I come to this place to get my coffee this early ,I'm not here to have meaningless interactions,I'm here to sit in silence,do some writing and drink my coffee.So I hope that answers your question son"

I laid down the money,grabbed my coffee and began to walk away.I could hear Eric behind me. "uhh well I hope you have a good day sir,didn't mean to bother you"

Okay maybey that was unnecessary but I wasnt in the mood and hadn't been in the mood for days now.Look,I'm not a complete asshole,but times have been tough lately and all I'm doing Is surviving in every way.I figure being honest and blunt will keep interactions simple and short which is exactly what I need right now.Sue me.

Just like I told the over cheerful coffee shop employee, Eric,I wasn't sure how my day was going or how it was even gonna go .Not yet atleast.My days were uneventful predictable and regular for the most part and rather boring I might add and I was completely fine with this.I lived a life of chaos for some time,and while I found excitement in it,it was leading me down dark roads and sticky situations .I had to find a path that was more ,how I would say ,regular and boring I suppose.But soon enough I was gonna get a better idea on how my day was gonna go and things weren't gonna be so boring or predictable after all.

That's when she walked in.At first I was preoccupied writing in my notebook.Working on a story.There was a bell on the door.I heard it ring as the door opened.I looked up and saw her from about ten feet away while I was sitting at my table.She was on the thinner side, had short straight black hair,a white tank top,black shades,and blue slim jeans,and she was carrying a black leather purse and she was light skinned,or In other words,white.Yes the first thing I thought was she's absolutely attractive.Made me wonder why I settled for my wife in the first place when there's broads out here looking like this.Anyways that was it,I admired her for a moment and put my head back down and continued my writing.I was deep in concentration when I heard a voice very close to me.

"Hi,do you mind if I sit with you?"

The voice was soft and sweet,I looked up and it was her,the lady I had been admiring from afar.Now all I could think was,why would this beautiful woman ,want to sit with me.Now I'm not saying I'm an ugly bastard,but I guess to put it this way I felt like she was out of my league to begin with.But of course maybey she just wanted some friendly company.Nothing more . Now as far as I go,I'm on the bigger side,not fat but not thin neither.Short blonde hair that sticks up and leans to the side,and im wearing a black t-shirt with blue jeans that got holes in them.All in all I look like your average Joe.Either way,there was never a time when I couldn't use the company of a beautiful woman,I didn't hesitate, but I kept my regular attitude.I may have found her attractive but I never lose my cool regardless of the situation.Something you learn from experience.

"Go for it" I said.

She pulled a chair out from the table and took a seat, she set her purse down on her lap.She had her cup of coffee,she took a sip and sat it down on the table,she looked around in a seemingly nervous manner and then looked back in my direction.I thought nothing of it.Im an overanalytical person anyways,so I figured that's just what my mind was doing ,overanalyzing.

Now,I'm a man of few words,rather ironic considering I passionately use them in my writings everyday but anyway you get what I mean I suppose.Ive always been comfortable with silence.I think the older you are the less you feel you have to fill the silence with meaningless conversation and small talk.So needless to say I kept quiet and continued to write and drink my coffee as she sat across from me.Then she spoke.

"It's nice to meet you,my names Jessica,I noticed you sitting over here writing and I thought that was interesting and plus as of recent I'm kind of a loner and figured you looked like you could be some good company,just in case you were wondering why I wanted to sit with you."

I looked up and replied

"Names Don ,Don Shapiro .Yeah actually I was kind of curious as to why you decided to come sit with me.But all in all,I'm not complaining,and uh yeah as far as the writing goes I've been writing for a while now.It just keeps my mind busy and distracted and it's something I love to do ya know.God knows if I don't keep my mind distracted it does more flips than a gymnast.Ill be blunt with you Jessica,upstairs,it can be a mad house ,but I manage it rather well I suppose."

Another thing about me,I dont beat around the bush as far as being honest on the reality that not only I,but many people live in.Difference between me and others is,I speak on things that other people chose not to speak on.Rather it be dark or shocking didn't matter to me much .I was numb to it.And I do this as if it's not something that is offensive or shocking in the least bit,and this is how it is with my humor also.Which tends to throw people off gaurd.One of my flaws as far as interacting with people goes,but it's who I am.

She replies

"Oh no I completely understand,and Don if I can be blunt with you,if you ask me, she paused and leaned in a little ,"were all a little mad aren't we now?" she smiled as she said this.She leaned back in her seat with a smile on her face still."Anyways what exactly are you writing,if you don't mind me asking"

"Well ,I'm writing a story about a troubled young man who loses his mind and murders his father ,stabs him to death and then eventually gets shot down by police and it gets even more odd from there on out but yeah,that's the current project I'm focusing on right now ." "Not to mention. this story is not very far from what actually took place with this young man,loosely based on true events. "See Jessica my theory is,there's a very dark side to people,even your regular average Joe,sometimes I don't think you ever know when your looking into the eyes of somebody ready to commit a brutal act of violence ,we all have it in us,all it takes is the right set of circumstances, events and a few other ingredients and boom ,you got yourself a homicidal maniac."

I fully expected her to wonder if there was something dearly wrong with me. But her response took me by surprise which doesn't happen often,but left me wondering.Who is this woman?

"Yeah ,I think your absolutely right Don, she took a sip of her coffee sat it down and looked around and looked back at me"for example I have a loaded pistol in my purse right now and due to a certain string of events and circumstances I'm more than likely gonna blow my husband's brains out today and flee the country" she smiled again and this time I was also smiling as we both looked each other in the eyes for a few seconds .I thought "she's definitely joking " After a few seconds of us looking each other in the eyes and smiling she let out a little laugh and said

"Of course I'm just fucking with you" "Oh God I got you didn't I,really made you wonder huh." "You know if I had said that to anybody else they would have looked at me like I was insain" "I promise I'm not,my sense of humor is just off the wall sometimes"

I replied ,now entirely interested

"You know you would think I'd be shocked but in all reality I have a tendancy to say things that are rather off the wall too.And to be honest with you I knew you were just fucking with me,but I can't lie ,you had me pretty intrigued " I laughed a little

"Anyways,I'm glad there's someone in this world with a similar sense of humor to mine,anyways Jessica,welcome to the circus"

She laughed

"you know don,your pretty alright,listen I live in an apartment complex just a couple blocks down from here and well if I'm gonna be honest, I'm more than likely gonna be doing a little day drinking today,don't judge me "she smiled " and I was thinking ,maybey you'd like to join me?"

I thought about it.I used to be quite the alcoholic and I was big into parties in my younger years.Though I hadn't had a drink in a while and those days seemed long behind me ,I was interested,interested I suppose mainly because with the recent things I had been goin through with my wife and then trying to be successful as a writer and feeling like I've failed entirely ,as of recent my attitude had become more of a "fuck it I'm in" kind of deal,even if the idea wasn't the best one.That was one of my main issues In life.I was quick to make bad decisions thinking "I'll be fine,I'll just have some fun and be on my way" and that's what I said to myself right before I did any drug or drink any alcohol or did anything risky and here I was absolutely prepared to do it again.Plus it's hard for me to say no to a beautiful woman and at this point she had me intrigued.If anything ,maybey this will make for a good story.

"I mean,yeah I'll join.But um ,you mentioned a husband,are you actually married?,I only ask because the last thing I need right now is to come to your apartment and have your husband come home and find us spending time together and have an absolute mental breakdown ,ya get what I'm saying"

She said

"Yes actually I am married but we're kind of going through some things right now and we're taking a break from each other ,don't worry he doesn't live with me right now.And what about you ?Are you married or anything like that?"

I replied

"Well that's actually a funny story to get into,yes I was married ,key word "was".But I came to find out she had been sleeping with one of her co-workers.So I left her .This bitch ,I stopped myself and shook my head ……i mean ,this woman was important to me but now turns out what i thought was real was merely closer to a game being played . Look I dont hate anybody and I adore woman but I definitely do not have the most fond and polite feelings torward this woman right now and it is what it is.So excuse my french.That being said, I could use a drink."

she said

"Good cause I'm not drinking alone"."Sorry to hear what your going through,and that's why we're both gonna get tipsy and forget our problems for the day" she smiled

I smiled and closed my notebook took a sip of my coffee and said "So,when do we get started?"

In the back of my mind I knew this wasnt the smartest idea.If there's anything I learned about alcohol is,it never ends quite as good as I'd like it too.But I thought,what the hell,plus there's just something about her that keeps me interested.Wouldnt be the first time I made a decision that might not be the best to make.Gotta live a little right? Right?

We gathered our things and left the coffee shop and made our way torward her apartment.In reality to the rest of the world she might seem a little off or odd ,but considering the world I came from she seemed absolutey normal to me.Either way there was not many things to make me lose my levelheadedness or my cool.Like I said,it's something that comes with experience.

To be continued.

[messrmoonyy]

Would it be possible for a Steven grant x reader where you are stood up for a date the same night steven missed his date with Dylan? Maybe you start talking to each other and it’s like a date? It’s fine if not. Have a nice day!

The vegan in the steak house

Steven grant x reader

A/N- hellooo! Thank you for the request. Sorry this took forever. I did unintentionally alter the day in which this takes place. In the show it’s a Sunday and he’s supposed to have met Dylan on the Friday. My brain just held on to Friday and when I finshed if mentioned Friday far too many times to bother to change it so. It’s Friday. Anyways. Enjoy.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 5.2k

Masterlist- request open!

Reblogs and comments are always welcome and appreciated!

Friday nights were one of the busiest of the week. All of the 9-5 office job types, that London seemed to be overflowing with, heading out to relax at the end of their work weeks. You'd always thought that kind of job must be boring as all hell, sitting at a computer all day typing away nonsense emails about god knows what. Though on Fridays you did sometimes wish that was your job.

Rushing around like a headless chicken delivering hot plates of food, standing burning your fingertips off as the customers fannied around about who ordered what, complaining their steak was too cold. Or too hot. Or too small. Or ' not how I usually have it! '. Or when you asked who ordered the side of sweet potato fries and being told ' oh they're Adams!' Like you knew who the fuck Adam was.

You'd kill for a cushy office job on Friday nights.

But thankfully the night was nearly over. You could clock off at 10:30, one of your coworkers wanting the overtime of doing the clean down and close up at the end of the night. Usually you'd have taken it, the extra money was always needed, but you were far too tired today.

You just wanted to drag yourself home, maybe snatch some leftovers from the chef and lock yourself in your tiny little flat until your shift tomorrow. But it's barely 9:30. So it would have to wait just a little longer.

The restaurant was beginning to clear out as close drew nearer, your section empty as you cashed out the last table. There was a couple of tables occupied in your coworkers sections and a table outside. But you guessed you were hopefully done for the night now.

You wiped down the table and debated on asking to leave early seeing as your section was empty, before heading over to the entry desk just to double check no one had a late reservation. That was all you needed. Or the Karen's that liked to appear two minutes before close and demand a table for 12 all wanting steaks.

" table 4 still out there? " you listened in on the conversation as you joined two of your coworkers at the entry desk, making yourself look busy by putting away some menus.

" mhm. He's been there hours now. Kinda sad. Defo been stood up poor guy " she said with a frown.

“ well honestly I’m not surprised. He didn’t even have a reservation. What would he have done if we’d have been full? That’s no good on a date is it “

“ but look at his little flowers! He’s a cutie!”

“ a cutie that’s been stood up “

" what's that? " you asked, curiosity getting the better of you instantly. Your coworker, Amy, turned to you with a sympathetic smile on her face.

" guy out there table 4. Think his date stood him up... thought he'd have gotten the picture by now though. Kinda sad to still wait. She's clearly not coming is she " your eyes followed to where she had nodded. By the window there was a man sat alone at his table. A slightly sad looking bouquet of flowers on top of a chocolate box in front of him.

You'd seen your fair share of poor men and women stood up by dates to recognise one. Sometimes it was quite entertaining to listen in on first dates, cringe at the awkward ones and feel a slight longing at the good ones. You hadn't had a date in... well. You didn't even want to think about how long it had been. Though the poor ditched dates were always heartbreaking to see.

" one of us should go talk to him. Kitchens shutting soon. If he wants food-"

" I'm not doing it " the other waiter said before Amy could even finish her sentence.

" we'll I'm not! Poor little guy. I'm no good with the heartbroken ones. Remember when that one woman started sobbing when I told her the guy had called and cancelled the reservation without telling her? God I’m no good at it " they both glanced at you then. You had a reputation for being so unbelievably nice it was inhuman. Of course they wanted you to go talk to him " y/n? What do you say? Go see if he's alright? You're good with the mopey ones " you glanced back out the window at the man before sighing.

" fine. But but then I'm going home. My sections done "

" superstar! " Amy said and squeezed you in a hug " you got this. I'd probably just make him cry or something "

You grabbed a spray and cloth to clean the tables out there seeing as you were heading out there anyway. And headed for the door to the tables out front, hovering on the doorstep outside when you got a better look at him. He actually looked kind of optimistic still. Like the one he was meant to meet would still arrive. Some poor excuse for being hours late. He looked the type to probably forgive them for it too. It made your heart ache.

You liked to think you were good at reading people. The restaurant offered ample people watching opportunities after all. You could spot the snooty customers a mile off, the kind ones, the couples going through a rough patch, the awkward dates, the good ones. All before anyone ever opened their mouth.

And that hopeful puppy dog expression on the man's face was answer enough for you to decide he was too sweet to be being stood up so brutally.

His leg was bouncing under the table, fingers fiddling restlessly. He was a bundle of nerves clearly. Yet still he had waited for his date to turn up. Your skin prickled with upset. It always hurt seeing people stood up. You’d been stood up a fair few times yourself and it never got any better. Humans wanted to be loved, went on dates to attempt finding love. Only to be left alone. It hurt. It would always hurt.

Maybe that’s why he was still there though. In denial. Desperate to have some chance at love that he was clinging on to a tiny chance his date may appear.

You usually just went home and drowned your sorrows in cheap wine and a Chinese takeaway. To each their own.

You made your way over to the man and put on a smile.

" good evening " you greeted softly " are you still expecting one more? " it felt quite cruel to ask even though you knew the answer already. But you had to be sure. And you couldn't make it obvious you'd all just been watching him and talking about him. He wasn't having a great day as it was. No need to make it any bloody worse.

He looked up from where he'd been staring out to the street, looking for his date no doubt, and your heart practically melted. He looked like a kicked puppy. Big brown eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and dwindling hope that he tried to hide with a small smile, probably starting to feel somewhat embarrassed.

" yeah... not looking too good is it? " he said with a small chuckle but there didn't seem to be much humour in it. Pity flooded your chest and you tried to think of something helpful to say to him.

" maybe give them a call? You know what the traffics like in London" it was a pretty shit suggestion when you thought about it. Yes London traffic was notoriously shocking. But not really at night. Brixton was lively at night but it would be no excuse as to why his date was hours late. Still, he smiled at you all the same and gave a nod.

" yeah... yeah traffic " you excused yourself to clear up the table behind him as he picked up his phone and called whoever it was that had left him sat alone. You tried not to listen in as you sprayed the table and wiped it down. But it was impossible. You were too curious.

" what? What do you mean? It's steak. It's steak time " he said in a joyful voice into the phone. You closed your eyes for a moment, your heart aching for him. His optimism. He hadn’t even said hello so clearly the other person hadn’t either. You wondered what their excuse would be. To be honest you were surprised they’d even answered the phone. Most didn’t " thought we said Wednesday? Wednesday. Today " your brow furrowed. Wednesday? It was very clearly Friday. God if it was Wednesday again you'd slam your head on the table " come on. I think Wednesday still comes after Tuesday doesn't it " was he genuinely convinced it was a Wednesday? No wonder he'd missed his date. No wonder they hadn't arrived.

He brought the phone down from his ear slowly, staring at it for a moment.

" scuse me? Excuse me " he turned to you and you put down the cleaning cloth and headed over. He looked distressed, brow furrowed and eyes slightly wild.

" can I help? "

" what day is it today? " he was. He was convinced it was Wednesday. Was he okay? How had he gotten the day so wrong.

" it's... Friday " you said slowly, almost waiting for him to laugh and say the entire thing was a big prank. You were on one of those 'what would you do' hidden camera shows. But no. No camera jumped out to surprise you. His face just fell, wide eyes going glassy as they appeared to fill with tears.

" Friday " he whispered to himself, looking down at the table and away from you. You didn’t quite know what to say as you stood there slightly awkwardly. He was shaking his head in disbelief, muttering quietly to himself.

You spotted Amy inside tapping her wrist as if to indicate the time and you sighed, closing your eyes again hating that he was clearly upset. Yet you still had to do your job.

" the... the kitchens closing in a few minutes... would you like to order anything or.. " He looked up at you with those puppy dog eyes of his, still glassy with tears that he was clearly fighting to keep in. He seemed to take a second to realise what you'd asked him, before slowly nodding

" yeah I will... I will have a steak " you pulled your pad and pen from your apron, clicking the pen. You watched as he sat up more, still not looking at you but that confusion morphing into a solemn look as he looked out towards the street.

" okay that’s fine... And what cut would you like? " you weren't being as formal as you usually would have been. Talking to him like an Injured animal you weren't a hundred percent sure on how to approach.

" the best bit. I'll have. I'll have the best bit. That's the bit that I want " had he ever ordered a steak before? Or was his upset clouding his thoughts? Either way you just wanted to drop your pad and pen and give the poor guy a hug. He looked like he needed it.

" centre cuts filet? " you asked waiting for him to confirm but he simply sniffled and you realised he really was crying now " how would you like it cooked? " you needed to get away from him before you risked it all and pulled him into your arms.

" very good very good yeah " he'd dropped his gaze to his lap again and you had to walk away before you really did hug him. He clearly needed a moment on his own, needed to gather his thoughts that were clearly so very scattered.

You headed back inside and gave his order to the chefs.

" so? What's happened with him? " Amy popped into the kitchen practically bouncing to get some gossip.

" he. He thought it was Wednesday " you said it as if you didn't quite believe it yourself, because honestly? You didn't. Amy frowned and raised her eyebrows.

" think he's not the full ticket? Bit. You know? " she twirled her finger in a circle next to her head, insinuating he was loopy.

" how should I know? I didn't ask his full life story " you actually felt a little bristled that she'd suggest it. The man out there seemed too sweet, too flustered. Not loopy. Just... confused? Maybe? Either way you didn't think he was crazy.

" how do you think it's a Wednesday. It's Friday. It's like, the best day of the week! Wednesday is like. So shit. Why Wednesday " she popped her head out into the restaurant as your other coworker called for her before sighing and heading back out.

It was odd. Of course it was. Of all the excuses and the reasons people had stood up dates. Getting the day wrong by 2 days had never popped up before. He seemed flustered, confused. 1000% convinced that it was in fact Wednesday. Maybe he'd had a bump on the head. Maybe he was just one of those uni students who crammed revision for hours on hours, simply not leaving his home for so long he really did get the days wrong. You guessed there was many explanations. But you weren't going to accept Amy's suggestion of loopy.

You decided to make true on your statement to leave early and headed for the cloakroom to grab your bag and jacket. Ready to go home and binge watch some shitty tv show until you fell asleep, let the poor man sat at table 4 fade into the mass of hundreds of others you'd seen stood up.

" orders up! " you heard the chef call as you headed back through the kitchen again " oh. For you " he handed you a to go box filled with food. You didn't even need to ask. They knew you too well. You smiled and took the box with a thanks, giving the chef a half hug as you balanced your belongings and your food.

Amy appeared back in the kitchen to take the mans steak out but you stopped her.

" I'll take it on my way out it's fine " you said and draped your jacket over the arm that held your bag and balancing your own food too. You didn't like the idea of Amy giving him the food. She wouldnt be as gentle as you had, didn't know how to handle upset people in the slightest " seriously. I've got it. It's okay " you said before she could even attempt to protest, then taking the man's plate in your other hand.

You headed back out to him, in some mild hope he might have cheered up a little bit. You didn't like seeing people upset. Especially people who seemed as sweet as the man sat at table 4.

" centre cut filet, well done " you said softly as you placed it at the table, but even with your gentle approach he startled slightly as you spoke.

" oh. Oh. Right. Thank you " he eyed your jacket and bag, then his eyes flitted to where your coworkers were beginning to clean up inside " should i get this to go? You're closing " he nodded towards where the final customers were leaving, the waiters inside already beginning the close down.

" no you're alright. I sometimes sit out here and eat after my shift, they clean it last. You've got time " you said with a warm smile. He seemed to be thinking of something, his mouth opening slightly like he was going to speak but was still trying to figure out the words. So you waited. Slightly awkwardly but still. He probably needed a talk after the night he'd had.

" do you.. do. Wanna sit with me? " he asked slightly sheepishly, his eyes flickering down to the to go box of your own food in your hand " i mean. You don't have to like if you wanna go home or something- gods sorry that's so weird innit? Sorry- " you couldn't help the smile spreading on your face as he rambled, sitting down opposite him and effectively stopping him in his tracks.

" thanks " you said and opened up the box containing a baked potato and varying other bits the chef had thrown in " would've been cold by the time I was home anyway. Not the same when you microwave stuff is it? " he was looking at you in a mild awe that you had actually sat down with him, but you tried your best to put him at ease.

" i- yeah. Yeah not the same " now you could get a proper look at him you realised he was actually pretty cute. Definitely your type. All fluffy curls and bronzed skin. Dark bags under his eyes but he somehow made them work. Big brown eyes that caught you in your examination of his face. But you simply held his gaze for a second before he looked away. Almost trying to tell him ' yes. I am looking at you. Your date isn't here but that's okay. There's plenty more fish in the sea that'll look at you and see how pretty you are'

Because. Well. He was pretty. Quite possibly the prettiest face you'd come across in London. And those eyes... it was shocking to think he'd still need to be dating. Surely he'd have been snapped up ages ago. You'd come to discover that all the guys that you find even remotely attractive always ended up being taken already.

Or just complete dickheads.

He was hunched in on himself a little. Almost like he was concerned he was taking up too much space, like he wanted to feel and look as small as he could. Like he wanted to fly under everyone's radar, to appear invisible. Unnoticed. A silent nobody.

Maybe that was why he was single. He was shy. Nervous. And couldn't remember his days of the week

You took a bite of your food and watched as he pushed his steak dejectedly with his fork, his nose crinkling slightly.

" not how you like it? You did say very good I just assumed well done... "

" no no. It's just. Well... m' actually vegan " he said with a slightly awkward scratch to his head and you couldn't help the laugh that left you.

" a vegan in a steak house. That's a new one " his shoulders relaxed a little as you laughed, almost as if he was just waiting for you to make fun of him. And relieved when you didn't. Frankly he seemed to relax a little everytime you spoke " Whyd you get a steak then? We have salads, potatoes. Steaks not exactly vegan is it " he shrugged and cut a small chunk of the meat, examining it on his fork for a moment.

" fancied a change? "

“ I don’t think I could ever be vegan. Chicken McNuggets are my go to hangover food “ you said with a grin that made him divert his eyes from the meat and to you. He was smiling too. And it was beautiful.

“ maybe this steak will convert me back “

“ you never know unless you try “ you said, still smiling as you took another bite of your food.

“ right. I should broaden my horizons, yeah? “ he seemed a little hesitant as he put it in his mouth, seemingly thinking extremely hard as he chewed before giving another shrug. He was trying hard not to scrunch his face in disgust as he broke what was probably a long running stint at living vegan.

" well? " you asked, already knowing the answer but humouring him.

" yeah not bad " his terrible lie had you laughing again, shaking your head slightly as you tucked in to your own food. He was unbelievably cute. You felt his eyes on you as you laughed. He seemed to like it. You got the idea he didn't often make people laugh.

" I'm sorry about your date " you said after a minute or so of silence as you both ate, Steven avoiding his steak and picking at the side salad and basket of chips instead " totally their loss. You seem nice " his cheeks flushed at that, not sure whether it was from embarrassment or the compliment. Maybe both. You got the idea he didn't receive many compliments either.

" my fault. Messed up the day. Wednesday. Brain like a sieve " he mumbled and tapped his forehead with the handle of his fork lightly " forget my head if it wasn't screwed on " now he did look embarrassed, the kicked puppy look gracing his face again as he looked down at his plate.

" me too. Should see my phone. Take a picture of my front door everyday to remind myself i actually locked it. Or my hair straighteners to remind myself I unplugged them. Always forget and then panic I’ve burnt my building down " he looked up again at your attempt to console him, those puppy eyes making you want to melt into a puddle in your seat.

" s'alright I guess. Never been very good at like dating and that " he mumbled with a shrug and pushed the steak with his fork, his nose scrunched up in mild disgust " don't even remember asking her out " you raised an eyebrow at that and took another bite of your baked potato.

He forgets the day. And then forgets even asking her out. A mild concern was starting to mount now. How was one man so confused.

" are you sure you were actually meant to be on a date? " it was a bit of joke but he seemed to take it seriously, his eyes widening and he scrambled to unlock his phone.

" yeah yeah look see. See that? Dylan " he shoved the phone towards you with a contact named ' Dylan ' on the screen " never even spoken to her before but I have her number? Bit weird innit? " he'd never spoken to her. Yet he had her number. He'd seemingly missed a date by two whole days. He was an odd one that was for sure. But he was cute. So maybe you could look past it " I messed this one up didn't I? Bloody useless I am "

" her loss " you said warmly and reached across to give his hand a light squeeze. His cheeks flushed slightly again and you wanted to just jump over the table and squeeze him. Show the clearly lonely, affection starved man that there were people who cared.

" got to talk to you though didn't I? Maybe all worked out quite well in the end " it was probably the most confident thing he'd said all night and it made your heart flutter " might be a bit awkward though with Dylan. Work with her so... "

" where do you work? " you asked, part generally interested and part trying to change the topic of Dylan. You were beginning to like his smile, you didn't want the kicked puppy face back again.

" i work at the National Gallery, y'know in Trafalgar Square? " he has perked up in a instant at the mention of work, clearly very much enjoying his job.

" oh cool, you're a tour guide? " he deflated again just as quickly and you wracked your brains for what you possibly could have said wrong.

" er no. Gift shop. I'm a gift shop-ist " he perked up slightly again " I'll be a tour guide one day though. Know more than all the current ones put together " a smile spread across your face for the millionth time that evening as he spoke " applications open up again in a couple months. Gonna apply again I think. I get to talk to people in the shop, give em little titbits of knowledge you know when they buy something? But I'd love to actually be a guide you know? "

He seemed to be bursting to use the knowledge that was so clearly going to waste in a gift shop, even there in his chair he looked like he wanted to explode and tell you something interesting.

" maybe you could give me a tour " you suggested " if you're not too tired after your gift shop-ist duties of course. Only ever been to the gallery once, school trip when I was 12 " he was looking at you like you'd just told him he'd won the lottery. Dylan was a fool for not meeting up with him, though you guessed it was good in a way. If she had met him then maybe you never would have.

" y- yeah! Yeah I'd love that " he was practically bouncing in his seat, all that knowledge ready to explode right at the table. You wouldn't even need a tour at this rate. You'd know the name of every single Greek, Egyptian and Roman to ever live before you even made it home.

" great. Let me... give you my number " you said and rummaged around in your handbag for your phone, plucking it out and unlocking it before showing him your contact information. He scrambled for his own phone and copied the number in " I don't work on Sundays or Tuesdays. So if you're up for a one to one tour those are the best days for me, If they're any good for you as well "

Your phone pinged as a text came through so that you had his number too

Unknown

Helllooo. It’s Steven :) ( with a v )

Your cheeks were starting to ache from how much he had made you smile. In fact it simply made you smile more just seeing that Steven was no longer sporting that puppy face.

Dylan long forgotten. Thankfully.

" Sundays and Tuesdays. Got it. Right. Wicked " he was beaming at you, the nerves he'd had all night still very much there. But maybe a little less so now " I think Sundays best? Donna doesn't work Sundays "

" Donna? " you questioned, finishing the last of your food and leaving it neatly for Amy when she came to clean up outside.

" my boss... think about locking her on one the sarcophaguses at least three times a day " he said with a small chuckle, picking up your empty box and cutlery and stacking them onto his own plate. It was a practical wet dream for a waitress to see, a customer that kept themselves near and made the waitress' job easier " always calls me stevie , always yelling at me cause im a bit late sometimes. Bloody annoying "

" don't like stevie? " Stevie actually sounded quite cute if you were honest.

" not when she says it " the slight avoidance of your eyes and the flush in his cheeks, almost told you he may have hated it from Donna. But he'd quite liked it from you.

" we'll do a Sunday then. No Donna " he smiled and nodded, eyes looking over you and cheeks flushing again.

Had you just planned a date? Was that even allowed? For you to go on dates with customers?

That was an issue for future you thought. Right now you were quite content to have someone who was a customer twice your age- or even more sometimes- eyeing you up. And to have someone who was actually decent on the eye. And nice. A shy little gift shop-ist who got his days mixed up and hated his boss.

" y/n? We really need to clear up out here now " you turned you head as Amy stood by the door. You two had been out there longer than you'd expected and it wasn't fair to keep the others any later.

" yeah sorry. We're off now give us like. 2 minutes? " she nodded and headed back inside to grab her cleaning stuff, as you put your phone away and stood up. Steven followed suit and looked down slightly dejectedly at the flowers that were still on the table.

" you can have these " he said softly and passed them over " to say thank you. For being so nice I mean " it was your turn to blush now, a small heat creeping over your cheeks as you accepted the slightly squashed flowers.

" thank you Steven "

" you live near here? Or you getting the tube or? " he asked, fiddling slightly with his hands.

" tube " you nodded.

" can I. Can I walk you there? Bit late innit? Dodgy people around " your heart fluttered at the never ending kindness pouring out of this man.

" I'd like that "

You walked side by side in a comfortable silence as tiredness seemed to creep up on the both of you. You couldn't help but steal a few glances at him as you walked. He seemed even more handsome out of the artificial restaurant lights. The moonlight falling on him perfectly.

Dylan's loss.

You did for a brief moment think about all the questions you'd be asked at work tomorrow. You'd practically had a date with him and you'd only gone to deliver him his food. You knew Amy and the others would have been having a field day watching you, gossiping and spying on you. But that didn't matter right now. Because you'd met quite possibly the loveliest man in London.

“ do you live close? “ you asked as you the tube station came into sight.

“ yeah not far. Like 10 minutes walk. Gonna take you long to get home? “ he asked, hands in his pockets as he glanced at you.

“ no. Streatham “ he nodded and you looked over at him again. You did have the slightest of concern with yourself at how easily you’d let a stranger walk you from work. He could’ve been a serial killer for all knew. But in your defence. He’d been lovely all evening. He was evening walking on the side of the path closest to the road.

Once you reached the tube station you came to a halt and for the first time that evening it was ever so slightly awkward. Neither of you seemingly knowing what to say to the other.

" thank you " you broke the silence " for walking me here. And the flowers. And well, for a lovely dinner. Beats my original plans of eating alone on my sofa " you smiled and he gave a small shrug.

" thank you for saving my evening " he was fiddling with his hands nervously and you had the urge to reach out and hold them.

" text me okay? Still want my tour "

" of course! Of course. Maybe we could do this...Sunday? " you nodded and there was a small silence again. He seemed slightly tentative in asking. Perhaps questioning if you had been genuine. Or worried that you'd maybe meant next week and Not two days away.

But if you were truly honest you'd see him again tomorrow. You'd only spent a short while in his presence and yet you already liked his company.

" that'd be perfect. I'm not doing anything " he seemed relieved at your answer, goofy grin on his face and his shoulders relaxing. Eyes practically glistening with happiness " well. I'll see you Sunday then? "

" yeah absolutely. I'll text you yeah? " you hesitated for a slight moment then leant forward and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. You knew his cheeks would be on fire before you even looked at him again and not to cause him any embarrassment, you turned and headed into the station. Already looking forward Sunday.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Coach Harrington. Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader (feat. Max Mayfield) *FLUFF*

(Not my pictures. My edit)

Summary: (Inspired by the Young Sheldon episode where Missy tries Out for a baseball team) Max tries out for the high school baseball team but comes across an obstacle.

TW: Sexism. Some cussing.

Word count: 1.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, you. Want a snack?” She sits next to Max on the couch, putting the plate of cookies between them on the couch.

Max takes one, biting into it, smiling because it was still warm. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“If it’s about math, you’re on your own, my friend.” She jokes at Max.

“No, we both know you can’t be trusted with math. This might sound stupid, but at school there was this flyer about tryouts for the baseball team, like baseball not just softball. And I think I want to try out.”

She raises her eyebrows at Max. “Really? I didn’t take you as a wanting to play sports kind of person. I thought you were more of a skateboard type.”

“Yeah, I know. But, little known fact about me, when I was 6 until I was 10 I was in softball in California. I was the pitcher, and I was kinda badass.” Max smirks.

“Then you should totally do it! There’s nothing stopping you from trying out.”

“They’re Saturday morning at 9:30 and I was going to ask if you could take me?”

“Of course! I have work at 10 so I can drop you off on my way. And I’ll be off early that night so then we can go get something to celebrate after you make the team.”

Max smiles and nods her head. “Thanks. And I do have just… one more question… can you help me with my history homework?”

She sighs dramatically. “Damn, I just graduated from school and I still have to do homework.”

***

“Hey, one of your kids is here to see you. The red head.” Her coworker passes by her with a tray of food. “She looks kinda sad, asked for you. She’s at table 7.” She scurries away toward her table.

She looks out to the dining room and sees Max slumped in the booth she’s sitting in, stirring the straw around the cup in front of her. “Okay, thanks.” She makes her way over to Max’s table, sliding in the other side opposite Max. “Hey, what happened? I can see it in your face that things didn’t go your way.”

“No… they didn’t even let me try out.” Max scowls. “And you want to know what really sucks? I know the coach that was there for the tryouts, and he still didn’t let me tryout!.” She rolls her blue eyes, shaking her head in defeat.

“Who was the coach?”

“Steve Harrington.”

It was no secret that Steve had “adopted” all of the kids that were around Dustin Henderson, and that included Max, even though, technically, Max was her “child” first.

“What the fuck? Seriously? Did he say why he wouldn’t let you try out?”

“Apparently because I’m a girl and baseball is too rough for me.” Max says with fire in her tone. “But that’s such bull shit because softball is just as rough as regular baseball! So I don’t see why he was being such a dick and didn’t let me at least try.”

“Give me 5 minutes and we’re going to go.” She slides out of the booth, starting to walk away.

“Wait! Where are we going to go?” Max gets up, following after her.

“Do you wanna be part of the team?”

Max nods her head. “Yeah, but Steve-,”

“Yeah but Steve, nothing. He’s at least going to see what you can do, he’s not going to be an old fashioned, sexist ass hole to you.”

Max looked at her friend with wide eyes, never seeing her this worked up over anything.

“5 minutes. Go wait in the car.” She hands Max her keys, storming off to go find her manager to tell her she was leaving for a little while.  

***

“His car is over there.” Max points to the BMW she remembers seeing, and parking next to when they were in school together.

Steve had the trunk open, putting some stuff in the back while she pulled up behind him and shut the car off.

“Let me do the talking.” She says to Max before getting out of the car, slamming it shut. “Hey, Harrington!” She calls out, throwing her hands up in the air.

Steve turns around quickly, processing what was happening, along with who was yelling at him. “Hey, long time no see.” He starts, a smile on his face until he sees Max get out of the car. “Ah, shit.”

“Yeah, ah shit. What is this about telling Max she can’t even try out for the baseball team because she’s a girl?”

Steve sighs. “I’m just looking out for her.”

“Bull. Shit.” She fires back at him. “You and I both know that Max is tough, and if she wants to try out for the team, you owe it to her, not only as a coach, but her friend, to let her try out. You don’t have to put her on the team, but you do have to let her try out.”

“But I want to be on the team.” Max mutters to her.

“One step at a time.” She mutters back, staring Steve down.

“And what happens if one of the guys on the other team goes after her and hits her with a pitch? You ever get hit with a fastball to the arm, or even worse: the face? How am I supposed to let her get subjected to that?”

“Max, you know how to swing a baseball bat, right?”

“Uh… yeah?” She questions, not seeing where her friend was going with her point.

“And if some asshole guy intentionally hits you with a pitch, you know to knock him out with the bat, right?”

Max smirks, nodding her head. “Yup.”

“Problem solved. Why don’t you and Steve head out to the field so you can try out for the team.” She says while smiling at Steve, not letting him get a word in.

Max passes by Steve, the same shit eating grin on her face.

“Really?” Steve walks up to her. “I just don’t want to see her get picked on and hurt.”

“You and I both know if some boy is dumb enough to pick on Max, they’re going to get their ass beat. Stop trying to make yourself feel better by coming up with these bull shit excuses and give her a fair chance. If you gave her a chance, you would see that she has a hell of a throwing arm.” She points toward Max warming up on the pitcher's mound, throwing the ball over and over again.

“Alright, I’ll give her a chance. But, you have to give me a chance.” Steve smiles, raising his eyebrows.

“What?”

“I know you haven’t gone on a date since you and Logan Granillo broke up a few months ago. Why not let me take you out since we’re taking chances on people. I’ve been wanting to take you out on a date since junior year, but our timing was always off.”

She laughs in disbelief, shaking her head. “You’re really trying to pick me up right now after I just came at you the way I did?”

Steve smirks, shrugging his shoulders. “I like a woman who’s passionate about something. What do you say?”

She rolls her eyes at how bold he was being. “Alright, fine. But me agreeing to this better not sway you either way when it comes to Max making the team or not. You need to be fair, Harrington.”

Steve crosses his heart with his fingers. “Scout’s Honor. How’s tonight at 9?”

“Yeah, yeah! Alright.” She bites back a smile, watching Steve run toward the field.

***

She watches from the car as Max bounces over to her, a smile plastered on her face.

“Yeah?! You did it?” She yells, not being able to contain her own excitement.

“You’re looking at the STARTING pitcher for the 1987-1988 Hawkins baseball team!” Max jumps, hugging her friend tightly.

“I am so proud of you! You’re going to have to let me know when all the games are so I can come out. I’m not missing any; away or home.” She squeezes her back, looking over at Steve walking up to them, an icepack on his shoulder.

“You’re right. She’s got a hell of an arm.”

She can���t help but chuckle. “You got him with a pitch, or what?”

Max laughs too. “Actually, dumbass over there couldn’t see the ball when I hit it out in left field, and it came down and landed right on his shoulder.”

“I should have you running laps for that comment, Mayfield.” Steve wags his finger at her. “Practice is tomorrow at 3. I expect you to be here, dressed out and warmed up by 3, not getting here at 3.”

“She’ll be here at 2:30.” She digs back at Steve. “And I expect you to be at my house at 9. Not you still blow drying your hair at 9, Harrington.” “I’ll be there at 8:55.” Steve says, walking back toward his car.

“What did I miss?” Max raises an eyebrow at her, not sure what just happened in front of her.