#downtown Phoenix restaurants

[simpforrooster]

kissin' strangers.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F!Reader

request for @acupnoodle

t/w: none, I don't think? some angst. happy ending.

a/n: sorry there has been a lull between fics. I haven't been feeling too inspired lately, and my perfectionism is setting in! I want to keep giving y'all fics, but I'm afraid I won't live up to expectations. anyhoosles, I hope y'all enjoy!

Your stomach turns as you watch Hangman flirt with the pretty blonde at the bar. She gives him a wide smile, and you know he is feeding her every line in the book.

Every line he used to feed you. Every line that used to turn you into putty in his hands. He'd pin you against the wall of the bar. One hand in his pocket, the other against the wall. You'd smile stupidly up at him, not being able to hide the fact that all those silly pick up lines worked.

You'd agree to meet him for dinner.

A dinner you never made it too.

A girl you taught asked if you could stay behind after the bell and help her with her essay. Naturally, you couldn't say no. Who are you to stand in the way of a child's ambition?

After tutoring, you made your way home. Working through your Friday evening routine, the dinner with Jake never crossed your mind. As you slide into the bath full of bubbles and a fresh bath bomb, it hits you.

You couldn't climb out of the tub fast enough. Throwing on some clothes, you sprinted out of your house. Forgoing your car, you ran down the sidewalk to the restaurant. Jake chose a cute diner downtown, and you didn't live far.

When you made it, you bumped into his hard chest as he was coming out of the restaurant. You could read the feelings on his face like a book. You glanced down at your watch.

He'd been waiting for over an hour.

"Jake--" you tried.

"Save it." He didn't even look at you. Jake stepped around your frazzled body, and walked to his truck. He didn't look your way as he cranked the truck and backed out.

That was about two months ago, and you still haven't been able to explain yourself. Every time you approach him, he gives you a small smile and a nod, then he sidesteps you.

He ignores your calls, your texts. You've even sent Phoenix over to him with a frickin note trying to explain yourself. He won't hear it. And now you get to spend your nights out watching him flirt with other girls.

You always head out before he does. You can't bare to watch him leave with any of them. Can't bare to imagine him kissing any of them. Not when you'd give anything for him to kiss you.

The blonde throws her head back, laughing at something Jake tells her, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Still nothing?" Phoenix asks. You answer her with a sigh. This time, the tears that always threaten behind you eyes fall. Feeling embarrassed at the public showing of emotion, you quickly wipe your tears and flag Penny down.

"I'm going to head out. I can't watch this anymore," you tell Phoenix. When Penny finally makes her way to you, you close out your tab. You can feel Jake's eyes on you as you make you way out the bar.

"Y/n! Wait!" a southern voice calls out. You stop, but don't turn.

"What is it, Jake?" He ignores you for months and now he wants to talk?

"You stood me up," he says, like you need reminding. You whirl around on your heels, and you're pretty sure smoke is coming out your ears.

"No. I. Didn't. And you would know that if you would have let me explain!"

"Y/n, how do you think I felt? Sitting there like an idiot, wondering where you were. I knew it was too good to be true when you agreed to the date."

You can't hide your confusion. "What?" you ask him, cocking your head to the side like your puppy.

"Oh come on, honey." His drawl pulls you in just like it did the first time you heard it. "You're an angel and I am a cocky asshole. I didn't think I had a chance. Then you stood me up."

Anger pulls you out of the 'Jake Trance.'

You close the gap between the two of you, poking your finger into his chest.

"Listen to me, you cocky asshole," you say, using his words against him. "I did not stand you up. I got caught up at school, helping one of my students. It just slipped my mind, Jake."

Jake's green eyes stare into yours, processing your words.

"Believe me, I had every intention of making that date." Your words are soft, and pink falls across your cheeks at your confession.

Jake's features soften, and his signature smirk falls on his face. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," you breathe. He’s standing so close to you, it’s throwing off any coherent thought. Having him freeze you out for months really did it’s number.

“Why did you decide to stop ignoring me?” You ask.

Jake lets out a little chuckle. “Maybe I’m just tired of kissin’ strangers and pretendin’ they’re you.”

Before you can process those words, his strong arms encircle your waist. Pulling you against his body, he brings his lips to yours. His fingers dig into your hips, and you forget how to breathe.

“You gonna stand me up again if I ask you to dinner?” He whispers against your lips.

“If standing you up gets you to kiss me like that, I’m going to do it every time.”

Jake smirks, pulling you back in for another kiss.

masterlist

[makethiscoldworldbeautiful]

Photos by me.

I think this is the first post I want to make to tumblr because these photos are special to me.

I was on a gorgeous roadtrip through Arizona a few years ago appreciating the Sonoran desert, but I stopped in downtown Phoenix for a coffee, and ended up finding the most beautiful potted plant display I think I’ve ever seen, in a little quiet courtyard by some restaurants. This set really only shows half of the display, even, there was another setup right beside it equally as remarkable. I also enjoy painting, and the level of subtle detail here caught my eye. I took some of these photos as references to paint later.

I’m just captivated by the number of different textures and colors fit into these two planters. How so many unique plants could blend together into such an aesthetically pleasing display. I was out in the desert to marvel at the natural beauty, but I was struck just as hard by the human ingenuity of whoever put those pots together, and the people tending the plants and keeping them healthy. It made me happy for humanity.

I had the book “Walkable City” by Jeff Speck stuck in my brain, as I often do, and I wonder at what humans might achieve if we were more in touch with nature and less in touch with blind capitalism. I want to elaborate more on what that trip taught me, but I wanted to show these flowers first and foremost, because to me they represent hope and creativity and inspiration.

Part 1/2

[aestheticaltcow]

Birthday Blurbs: 06/09

I let her win since it’s her birthday @ Y/N :p

Jake laughed as the two of you played pool at The Hard Deck that night. Due to work-related stress, you requested a chill night, and he happily provided that. After dinner at one of the trendy new downtown restaurants that Phoenix had been fawning over, the two of you ‘stopped in for a beer’ but ended up playing pool all night. It wasn’t much, but it was exactly what you wanted.

[sluttyhenley]

Tag Game: First 10 Lines Challenge

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

Tagged by @starrybouquet - thank you!! 💖

bluebirds singing a song masters of the air, buck/bucky/marge

Marge was puttering around in the kitchen; she felt like she’d been there all day. Avoiding John Egan, though she wouldn’t admit that unless pressed. Gale had to go into the office to put out a fire. He made it sound like a literal fire and now there was no buffer between her and John, no one to smooth out John’s increasingly obvious discomfort with her.

nothing but blue skies from now on masters of the air, buck/bucky/marge

Marge pulled back the curtains and looked out the window to see clouds piling up outside, dark and heavy with the promise of rain. A storm was brewing. She grimaced. John was supposed to arrive a couple of hours ago; instead, he had gotten stuck somewhere around Douglas when the storm hit, and now it was rolling their way. With the weather growing worse, they had no idea when he would arrive.

can't tell your best buddy (that you love him) top gun: maverick, rooster/phoenix

Phoenix is tipsy and her feet hurt. She’s been out all night, one of those mandatory fun, social events with the other officers in her squadron, but it had been fun. It had been fun and she had dressed up. She’s wearing one of the most impractical pairs of shoes she owns, and she’s definitely regretting that choice now.

come monday, it'll be alright top gun: maverick, gen

Missiles fire all around her. Bob is in her ear, watching her back, a second pair of eyes. Adrenaline floods her veins but still she doesn’t panic. They can all get home. Nothing about her training could have ever really prepared her for what it is to be in an actual firefight against enemy pilots.

you rattle my brain top gun: maverick, rooster/phoenix

The thing about Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix, is that she’s really difficult to ignore. The first time he sees her walk into a room, Rooster can’t seem to stop the way his entire focus zeroes in on her.

been around a time or two top gun: maverick, maverick/phoenix

Phoenix was puttering around her apartment downtown, thinking about dinner. It was late and the sun had dropped below the horizon long ago. She couldn’t even get off the air station before sunset. She opened her refrigerator door and contemplated ordering in.

put a hold on my heart top gun: maverick, rooster/phoenix

Rooster didn’t call her when he got back stateside, and it shouldn’t even matter. It’s just that, she told him she was recalled back to TOPGUN. She thought maybe he’d say something. It hurts. She wishes it didn’t, wishes she was mad at him. And she is; the anger is there, too, but it’s mostly hurt.

made a lot of mistakes in my mind the bear, sydney/carmy

The restaurant is practically empty now. There’s only a handful of the staff left, and the streets are almost quiet in the aftermath of their soft opening. Sydney can’t stop the list running through her head. It’s a loop: things done, things in process, things still needing to get done.

my heart is working overtime 9-1-1, buck/eddie

Eddie has been going on dates. So many dates and not a single one of them has felt right. Hen and Chim are starting to tease him about being too picky. Bobby keeps reassuring him it just takes time. Buck doesn’t say much of anything at all.

tomorrow and tomorrow edge of tomorrow, bill/rita

“Yes? What do you want?” Rita Vrataski doesn’t remember him. Of course she doesn’t. This is his reset. Not hers.

first line, first paragraph, whatever

one thing about me is i will drop the reader in the middle of a scenario. but i'll establish pretty quickly what pov i'm working in too so i mean, i guess there's that? also. first paragraphs my absolute beloathed. every one of these was reworked over and over and over and over before posting

tagging (no pressure as always!): @redbelles, @ladywaffles, @reachingforaspark, @lannisterdaddyissues, @katetylers and uhh idk anyone else who sees this and wants to do it

[shyphonics]

Salad Days, Chapter 8: Tell Me Now, and I Won't Ask Again

(Rodrick Heffley x reader)

chapter directory

hi hello I'm here and apologizing in advance for the turn this story took because I started having emotions while I was writing it lmao.

I have once again added a few secret songs to the playlist, so go and check that out if you're so inclined :) thank you so much to everyone who's read this. I'm having a time.

Life's an illusion, love is the dream

But I don't know what it is

Everyone's saying things to me

But I know it's okay, okay

Everybody's happy nowadays

Everybody's happy nowadays

~

Rodrick nods to Buck as he finishes loading up his truck, stretching his arms above his head and hopping into the driver’s seat. It’s been just short of a week since he’d last seen you. He sighs, looking at the dashboard, trying to shoo the thoughts of you away. He’d almost broken the night before and opened up his email account, taken a chance and said something, anything to you.

He’d ended up being too scared.

There’s no point.

Besides, he kind of likes his new job. He just drives around all day, does some light physical labor, and the people at the restaurants, or liquor stores, or wherever he is that day, smile and thank him. Tell him he’s a good, fast worker. He’d specifically requested no downtown bars on his route.

Buck had laughed and said I can’t blame ya. We’ll make Tony do it.

The engine roars to life, and he scans through the radio stations until it lands on a good-sounding song. The music is upbeat, with a high, meandering guitar riff.

Life's an illusion

Love is a dream

Life's the illusion

Love is the dream

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulls out of the parking lot. The words of the song prick his ears, and he ignores them, pretending they mean nothing to him as the song fades out.

Then he hears a voice.

An all too familiar voice.

This is 98.7, radio free Port Hanna. Buzzcocks, Singles Going Steady, 1979. Personally, it's in my top five. Sometimes, I just feel like-

Suddenly, he sees flashes of your apartment, the lights above your bed. Your kitchen counter. Your face, so close to his, praising him. You, on top of him. Your soft skin. The smell of your soap, and the tile of your bathroom.

I really, definitely like you.

He switches the station fast, to some lifeless buttrock. He leaves it there. This is… fine. A month or two ago, he might have even liked this song. He sighs, stopping at a red light and looking at the map in his passenger seat. He notices a red line veering off from his uptown stops. He picks up the map. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

That looks like The Strike.

 As he gets closer, glancing down at the map, he realizes it’s not, but it’s close. He drives by, seeing the giant, boarded up window, which somebody has painted we’ll be back, fuckers! on. The front of the building is fenced off. He feels bile rise in his throat.

His delivery is 2 doors down, a liquor store on the corner, Phoenix Liquors. The guy inside is friendly, with red hair and a silver nose ring.

“Oh, hey! Are you my delivery guy?” He sounds excited.

“Y-yeah!” Rodrick stutters.

“Oh, thank god. It’s usually this guy named Terry, and he’s an asshole.” The man laughs.

Rodrick wracks his brain. Terry, Terry…

“Oh! Yeah, Terry’s weird. He has these pictures of, like, women in 80s aerobics clothes in his truck.” Rodrick laughs.

The man cackles, steadying himself with a hand on the counter.

“God, that makes so much sense.” He laughs, “I’m Joey, by the way. You look… really familiar.”

Rodrick panics, feeling sweat start to prick at his hairline.

“I, um, uh…” He pulls his hat down, trying to cover his face.

“You played at The Strike last Friday! That’s it. You’re a drummer, right?”

“No, I…” Rodrick laughs nervously.

“Yeah! You guys were fucking sick as hell! You played ‘Rise Above’! What was your band called again? Löded Diper?.”

“No, no,” Rodrick’s voice falls to a hushed tone, “I mean, yes, but no…”

“Dude. You guys were great. I’m in Put Down, I’d love to play a show with you guys sometime.”

“Really?” Rodrick’s eyes widen, “I- I mean, no I’m kinda… I don’t know when we’ll play again, y’know?”

Joey looks at him in disbelief.

“What? Are you guys doing, like, a weird album release thing? Building hype? Because people loved you. You got a mention in The Eye this week. Alex Garcia, the music reporter, really liked you guys. Which is a big deal. Because he kinda hates everyone.” Joey smiles.

“What?” Rodrick perks up.

“Yeah! You gotta take your chance while you got it, man.”

Rodrick’s mind goes blank. Joey’s eyes are kind, and Rodrick feels like he can trust him.

“I, uh… I kinda…”

Joey cocks his head to the side.

“I kinda messed things up with somebody important.”

“Who?”

“Um, the lead singer of The Shrieks?” Rodrick’s voice sounds small, afraid.

“Oh.” Joey laughs, “Yeah, she doesn’t fuck around. We’re friends though, do you want me to ask about you? Maybe it was just a misunderstanding.”

“No!” Rodrick blurts out, then calms down, “No, no, I… it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I… I should start loading in.” Rodrick sighs, walking away from the counter.

He makes his way back to the truck out front, keeping his head down in case anyone from The Strike is outside.

He comes back to find that Joey has put a doorstop down, and smiles. What a nice guy. Rodrick gets to work, wheeling cases of bottles and cans into the store, stocking them, and starting over. A different song seems to be playing every time he comes back. Joey makes light conversation, and time seems to fly. Before he knows it, he only has one load of cans left. He wheels his dolly through the front door for the last time, loading the final empty shelf with a quirkily-labeled local beer, the can featuring a topless woman riding a dragon. He wheels the dolly back up to the counter.

“Hey, well, even if you don’t play, we should hang out, okay?” Joey smiles, “I’m always here, or at one of the bars. I kinda work everywhere."

Rodrick feels a pang of sadness in his chest, knowing he probably won’t make it out to hang out with Joey.

“Yeah… yeah, we totally should.”

“We’ve been around, like, if you guys wanna know where to tour when you’re ready, we’ve got a whole guide written up. I'll make you a copy."

Rodrick might as well have been slamming his head against the wall, like the idiot that he was. This guy is offering him tour advice, and he knows he’s not going to take it.

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll see you around.”

Joey holds his hand out for a high five, and Rodrick meets him halfway, smiling nervously. He freezes in the doorway as he hears your voice once more, low and stable over the store speakers.

Sorry for all the sap today, folks. It’s just one of those days.

Joey flashes him a sympathetic look, that he doesn’t stick around to see.

He makes his way back out to his truck, grabbing a copy of The Eye from a box outside. He sits in the driver's seat for a minute, bonking his head against the steering wheel. What is he doing? This is what he’s wanted, as long as he can remember, and he’s throwing it away, because…?

Because he’s a bad person.

He sits up, looking at himself in the rear view.

He’d forgotten to remind himself of that today.

Bad. Bad.

He stares into his own dark brown eyes, starting the truck and driving off, towards the other end of town. He can’t let himself forget. He did this to himself. No one else. It was him.

~

Tonight you’re mine completely

You give your love so sweetly

Tonight the light of love is in your eyes

But will you love me tomorrow?

~

It’s been a week since you saw Rodrick. Your radio plays are a little spiteful today, you’ll admit. All songs of scorn, or longing, and maybe a small part of you hopes that Rodrick is listening.

This is stupid. You’re strong. You should’ve forgotten him, written him off by now.

But you can’t.

Some part of you is still hoping he’ll call and apologize, have some magic excuse for leaving you hanging for a week. It doesn’t even have to be a good excuse. You really just want to hear his voice.

You hate that you’re so desperate to hear his voice.

You spin in your desk chair as a commercial break plays, a man yelling about discount tires. You’re tempted- so tempted- to send him another email. One with harsh words. One that will hurt him, maybe stick with him forever. You want him to feel just as bad as you do right now.

Something tells you this isn’t just him being a dumb guy, though.

Something tells you that something much bigger is at play.

You instinctively take the mic as the commercial break ends, your mind unfocused, running on pure routine. You barely even hear the words you say.

“98.7, radio free Port Hanna. Listen up, folks. Repairs are delayed. The city sent the fire marshal after us, and we’re on cable control duty until they say we’re good to go. I’m sure you can imagine the nightmare that guy walked into- power strips as far as the eye can see. But the window will be back tomorrow. Why don’t you come up and drive past us sometime?”

You sigh, preparing to hit play on your next pick.

“Stay strong, folks. You never know when the man is out to get’cha.”

The next song plays, and you stare into the grainy little screen of your cell phone. Then just like that, it's ringing. An unknown number. Your eyes nearly jump out of your skull.

You do have a rule with unknown numbers, though. You always let them talk first.

You answer the phone, bringing it to your ear, and squeeze your eyes shut, hoping against all hope that it's Rodrick.

The voice on the line is familiar, but in a way that makes your blood run cold. There's no way… it can't be.

It sounds like your dad. He's laughing, in a smug, awful tone.

“We found you,” he says, the laughter coming to a halt, “We finally found you.”

Your jaw drops, and your hands shake as you hang up as fast as you possibly can, the phone falling out of your hand and onto the floor.

No way. No fucking way. He's bluffing.

Then you remember… you were on TV last week. There's a good chance that news piece made it back to your hometown. You put your head in your hands, cursing yourself. Shit! Free access to what you look like and where you work got broadcasted straight to the man you've been trying to hide from for nearly 6 years. You don't know how much he's capable of on his own, but you should clearly be cautious if he found your fucking phone number.

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind, you'd just been so angry about what happened. Part of you had hoped he just wouldn't care anymore.

You check the clock. You're on air for another hour, and then it's straight to the bar for more work on repairs. You cross the studio and double check the lock on the door. Checking the window, you see that the parking lot is as empty as it should be on a day like this.

Cautiously, you pick your phone up and see several new texts.

You ungrateful brat.

You thought you could hide? You think you're smarter than us?

You're still sick. You need help.

I'll be waiting outside of that horrible bar to collect you and bring you home.

Your hands shake so hard, you can barely read what he's sent. You feel your breaths coming fast and ragged, trying to come up with any plan at all.

You have one beam of hope left. You hadn't said anything on the phone. He may know where you work, and what you look like, but he doesn't know for a fact that this is your phone.

You unlock the studio, rushing downstairs and giving the receptionist a frightened look.

“Bonnie…?”

She smiles, looking up from her knitting.

Bonnie is a woman who proudly describes herself as “funky.” She's in her mid 70s, and she dresses like she's in a Deee-Lite video. Her orange hair is tied back in a floral scarf, her eyes are lined in bright turquoise, and her lipstick is a jarring shade of coral. You smile back. She's one of the sweetest people you've ever met.

There is a reason that she's trusted to man the front door, though.

Bonnie doesn't take shit from anyone.

Not a lot of people know about your past, but you have had a few late night talks with Bonnie in the studio, and she knows your dad is not a man you want to see.

“Can you do me a huge favor?” You smile sheepishly, clasping your hands together to keep them from shaking.

She nods, putting the knitting aside, “Oh, please! I'm so bored.”

You laugh, despite the situation, and take your cell phone out of your pocket.

“Well, I'm getting these harassing phone calls,” You start, frowning down at the little screen.

“From who?” She looks devastated.

“My, um… my dad. Remember how I said he's kind of a bad guy?”

She nods fiercely.

“He found me, and he called me, but he never heard my voice, so he doesn't know for sure that it's me.” You frown down at the phone, then look back up at her, “Bonnie, will you record a voicemail message on my phone?”

She leans back and laughs, nodding and reaching her hand out for the phone.

“Oh, this will be fun!” Her tone is devious.

This is Bonnie Forester. You’ve reached my personal telephone line. If you are a solicitor, I ask that you take me off of your list. I’m old, and I will not buy anything. Go to hell!

You burst into laughter the second she’s done.

“That’s perfect.” You grin as she hands you your phone back, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

“Don’t say I never did nothin’ for you.” She winks.

You make a mental note to bring her flowers or something on your next shift.

She picks up her needles and waves as you go back up to the studio. Songs are still playing from your CD queue, and you decide to call Mike before commercial.

“Perfect timing, kid,” he answers, “You ready to check 28 power strips?”

You sigh.

“Mike… is there a car parked outside the bar? One that looks out of place, maybe? A white BMW?”

You're not sure if your dad is still driving his stupid vanity car, but you wouldn't doubt it.

You hear his footsteps.

“Yup, white BMW. Yuck. Why? Are you psychic? Have you been hiding that from me this whole time? Do you know how useful that would've been?”

A laugh almost escapes, but the dread of the situation is just too consuming.

“That's my dad. I don't know if you remember, but-”

“Your dad?” Mike's tone is hushed, panicked, “The one who-”

“Yes!” You interrupt, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying not to let any stray memories come in.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” You hear Mike pacing.

“He found me, I don't know. I have to assume he saw me on the news last week and tracked me down. I thought he would've stopped caring by this point!” You lean against the wall, hand on your chest, in some effort to comfort yourself.

“Should I go out there and say something?” Mike asks, “I’ll make something up! Tell him we forgot to paint the curb red.”

“He already knows I work there, Mike. There’s no point. He said he'd wait at the bar to ‘collect’ me.” You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Collect you?” Mike scoffs, “You’re a fucking adult!”

You sniffle, shaking your head, your voice starting to break, “What if he's got a court order or something? What if he can collect me, Mike?”

Mike is quiet.

“You're right. Don't come in, lay low. Finish your shift, and then go home.”

“Should I go home?” You feel yourself unraveling completely, your heart beating fast, your eyes twitching, “What if he knows where I live?”

“I'm watching his car. I'll let you know if the fucker moves. Just keep your door locked, and let me know if you need anything.”

You nod, wiping your eyes, “Thanks, Mike. I'm… I'm so sorry.”

“He should be fucking sorry. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hang up, collapsing into the rolling chair just in time to play a commercial break. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was never supposed to find you. He wasn’t supposed to give a shit anymore. You turn the playback volume as high as you can handle, trying to get him out of your head. Trying not to remember.

You feel like a zombie for the rest of your shift, finishing out your queue and waiting for Nick to come in for his shift.

You hear the doorknob rattling behind you and spin around, your eyes wide in fear. Nick puts his hands up in surrender.

You let him in, sighing in relief.

“Hey, paranoid, what's gotten into you?” He smiles, hanging up his jacket. His face drops when he looks at you.

“My dad is here. He's at the bar waiting for me.” Your voice comes out small, pitiful. You hold your elbows, slouching over.

“Your dad? Oh, fuck,” He whispers, “What are you going to do?”

“Run and hide,” you shrug, “Wouldn't be the first time.”

You grab your stuff and turn to face him, forcing an uneasy smile.

He sits in the chair, putting the headphones around his neck, and returns your uneasy look.

“Well, if you need help, you know where to find me."

"I know."

~

My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed

Dried up and bulging out my skull

My mouth is dry, my face is numb

Fucked up and spun out in my room

On my own, here we go

~

Rodrick sits in his usual stool at Jimmy's, a mug of beer in his hand, staring down at the bar. The top is smooth, clear plastic, with ads and business cards slipped underneath. Used cars, chiropractors, nail salons, and so many little concert fliers.

Most seem to be for smaller country, tribute, or solo acts, people that play in places like this.

Currently, a man sits in the corner with an electric guitar, playing a simple riff, with no rhythm to be found. His off-key crooning makes Rodrick want to cover his ears, but the guys from the plant are watching him closely, cheering him on.

He hates it here.

He opens his copy of The Eye, flipping through to the music section.

Hey, Friday Night's Alright for Fighting, Too

by Alex Garcia

A brawl broke out last Friday at The Strike, just a day before the vandalism took place. I personally think that the raw power of all 5 bands was too much for the local frat boys to handle, and their little brains just straight-up exploded.

Newcomers Löded Diper burst onto the the scene for the first time. Ignore their name, and go see them as soon as you can. With a powerful rhythm section, and a palpable friendship between the members, these guys are definitely one to watch. The chemistry was off the charts.

Dammit. That's a good review. That's a really good review. Rodrick leans forward, his elbow on the bar, his head in his hand.

The bartender is the same one as usual, Caitlin. She's about his age, with flat ironed hair and an eyebrow ring.

“This sucks.” She slumps down on her elbows in front of him.

“I know,” he shakes his head, taking a long drink of his beer. He feels a slight smile on his face. At least someone gets it.

“I'm going to this tonight,” She points down at the counter, to a small, square flier advertising a show at one of the bars downtown, Dime Store. His heart sinks, remembering that you'd said he could probably get a show there. “You wanna come with?”

He looks up. She's smiling sweetly, with one of her eyebrows raised. Is she… flirting with him? Rodrick swallows hard, his mouth falling open, but no words come out.

Caitlin is pretty, and nice, and tough as hell for working in a horrible place like this.

He can't say he's interested in her, though. She's not you. He's still thinking about you, even if he's accepted that he's completely ruined his chance.

Not to mention, he can't show his face down there, even if he was interested.

“I…” he looks down, “I can't, I'm sorry. I'm really busy.”

He looks up, sheepish, knowing that was a shitty lie.

Caitlin looks disappointed.

“Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. I get it.” She stands up straight, grabbing a rag and wiping down the empty side of the bar.

Rodrick lets his head fall with a thunk. Dumbass.

“Y'know, if you have a girlfriend or something, you can just say it. It's better than some lame ‘I’m busy’ bullshit.” She looks down at him, mocking him with a deep, dopey voice as she repeats his words.

He picks his head up, eyes still down towards the bar, focusing on an ad for a dog groomer. The picture is old and warped, and the dog looks like some sort of monster.

“I don't have a girlfriend, I just…” He sighs.

“Oh, you like someone.” She teases.

“Sure, you could say that.”

“And you screwed it up, because you're a dumb guy?” She laughs, but her face is sympathetic when he looks at her.

He nods. That’s a pretty good way to put it.

“You should call her or something, it can't be that bad.” She comes back to stand in front of him.

“It's that bad. I'm that bad. I'm a bad guy.” He sulks.

“You? C’mon,” She laughs, “You’re not a bad guy. You're the only one of these assholes who's actually nice to me.”

Rodrick turns to look at his horrible coworkers. Buck is singing with the guitar guy. They’re doing a Creed song. Fucking Creed. Buck is crying. He rolls his eyes, turning back to Caitlin.

“Yeah, they’re pretty fucking horrible. I don’t mean that I’m mean, though. Like, I’m not rude or anything. More like… sometimes I think I was just born bad. I do bad things, and I don’t even realize they’re bad. Or that I’m doing them! I try my best, but I just spread… badness. Everywhere I go. I’m a bad person.” He shrinks back in the barstool.

Caitlin gives him a look of absolute pity. It makes him want to disappear.

“Jesus. What the hell did you do to this girl to make you think that?” She laughs softly, shaking her head.

“I got into a stupid fight with a stupid asshole at her bar, and the stupid asshole went and vandalized the bar, so it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even given him a second look.”

“How… exactly is what happened to The Strike your fault?” She looks unimpressed, “Sure, bar fights are fucking stupid, but did you start the fight? Or did he?”

“Well,” Rodrick thinks back, “He pushed me, I pushed him, he sucker punched me in the face.”

“Buddy,” Caitlin laughs, “That is not your fault.”

“But…” Rodrick looks down, “You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when it happened, and when she figured out it was the guy who punched me who did it.”

“How did she look at you? Show me.”

“Like… like…” Rodrick frowns, and shakes his head, doing his best impression, trying to match the rage that had been in your eyes. Caitlin covers her mouth as she laughs.

“Okay, that just looks generally pissed off. Did she say anything?”

“She said,” Rodrick thinks, “She… she said… ‘don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault, I’m just pissed off’.”

Caitlin looks at Rodrick like he is the dumbest man in the world.

“...what?” Rodrick asks quietly, after a moment of silence.

“She said it’s not your fault!”

“She didn’t mean it, it’s totally my fault.” Rodrick groans.

“She would’ve told you if it were your fault. So, what you’re telling me is, this girl had her workplace vandalized and a guy she presumably liked completely stop talking to her on the same day?”

“See?” Rodrick blurts out, “Even if the bar wasn’t my fault, that’s not good either! Either way, I suck!”

“Do you know what you can do about that?” Caitlin gets closer to him, smiling.

Rodrick is quiet.

“Call her!” She enunciates carefully.

Rodrick stutters, starting and abandoning several sentences, finally landing on, “I can’t.”

Caitlin rolls her eyes.

“She probably doesn’t even like me anymore! She probably just wanted it to be a one night stand after all! She was probably just being nice when she said she wanted to see me again! She’s, like, hardcore!”

Caitlin’s eyes go wide.

“One night stand?! Rodrick!”

“What?!”

“You slept with her?” She yells.

The music stops. Rodrick’s coworkers all look at him, and start hooting and hollering as they always do.

Yeah, alright, Ricky! Atta boy!

Rodrick puts his head down in shame.

Caitlin lowers her head, whispering.

“Okay, dude, I do not think you’re a bad guy, but you seriously need to call this girl. Like, right now.”

“I… I don’t have her number.” He admits.

Caitlin puts her face in her hands, rubbing her temples.

“You can not be serious! Okay,” Caitlin flips her phone open, “I have everybody’s numbers, what’s her name?”

She scrolls through her contact list, and fuck. There you are. Caitlin keeps an iron grip on his arm as he dials, and he takes deep breaths as it rings.

This is Bonnie Forester. You’ve reached my personal telephone line. If you are a solicitor, I ask that you take me off of your list. I’m old, and I will not buy anything. Go to hell!

Rodrick stares, dumbfounded, at the phone.

“She didn't answer?” Caitlin releases his arm, leaning over the bar.

“It was… an old lady's voicemail.”

She looks at him, confused. He dials again, this time putting it on speakerphone.

This is Bonnie Forester. You’ve reached my personal telephone line. If you are a solicitor, I ask that you take me off of your list. I’m old, and I will not buy anything. Go to hell!

“She changed her number.” Rodrick murmurs, looking down.

“No, no,” Caitlin looks at her own phone, her eyebrows hitched in worry, “I met her, like, 2 years ago, she's probably just changed it since then. Or I took it down wrong!”

Rodrick crumples onto the bar, groaning.

Caitlin grimaces, putting a tentative hand on his back.

“Hey, hey. This doesn't mean anything.”

“It means fucking everything,” his mouth pulls into a frown, “It means she hates me.”

It's quiet for a while. Caitlin slowly takes her hand off his back, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Well,” she finally says, “Come out with me, then.”

He lifts his head.

“As friends! Just as friends.” She clarifies, waving her hands, “C'mon, I'm off in 20 minutes. Let's have a good time at a bar for once.”

He looks at her for a while, before finally agreeing.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

~

You don’t want me anymore

So I just walk right out that door

Played a game right from the start

I trust you, you use me, now my heart’s torn apart

So I'm sailin’, yeah I'm sailin’ on

I'm movin’, yeah I'm movin’ on

Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on

~

Your cell phone rings once again, and you debate snapping it right in half. You sit, curled on your couch, staring at it in fear. This is a new number. Probably your mom's phone. You consider yourself lucky that Bonnie had been there to help you out. The message will at least throw them off your scent a little.

You've received one text from Mike, ugly car is at Motel 6 on Coal Ave.

That's a relief, at least.

You feel like you're going crazy.

A thunderstorm rages outside your apartment, and you're suddenly hating how many windows you have inside. The entire outside-facing wall is essentially just one big window. Every time lightning strikes, you find yourself thinking, that's it. He saw me.

Yet, when you check the window, nobody unusual is parked on the street below.

You're struck with a passing thought as a clap of thunder rattles your windows.

What if…?

No way.

Why would Rodrick call now?

You carefully pick up your phone, looking at 2 missed calls. You'd bet good money on that being your mom's cell phone, or even your dad having a backup number.

You'd really like to hear from Rodrick, though. Now more than ever.

As pathetic as that may be.

You take a deep breath. If you don't talk, nobody will know it's you.

You dial. It rings for what seems like forever.

I'm sorry, but the person you have dialed has a voicemail box that hasn't been-

You hang up quickly. Dammit. Now you have no idea.

You eye your laptop for a second before opening it.

Rodrick hasn't emailed you. You decide to send another one to him.

Not to hurt him. Not to destroy him. Just to see.

~

From: worldsbestbartender@aol.com

To: bigrod@plainviewcommunitycollege.edu, lodeddiperrawks@aol.com

Subject: Did you call me?

Rodrick.

Are you calling me? I assume the ship has sailed and I don't know why you would be. Dick move, by the way.

Let me know if that was you who called me twice in a row tonight and I'll answer. I can't answer mystery numbers right now. I don't want to explain and you probably don't care anyway.

Just please let me know.

~

You drop your head as you hit send.

You doubt he'll answer. You doubt it was him.

But the chance is enough to make you wonder.

Enough to make you miss him.

You know he wouldn't have some grand plan to save you from this situation, but that's not what you need, anyway. You have a feeling that Rodrick’s form of support would just be sitting on the couch with you until you could fix things yourself.

That's what you need.

You stare at your inbox for a while, refreshing over and over, feeling more helpless. You wonder where he is. If he's even thought about you once.

You feel so weak.

You feel so angry.

No person should make you feel like this. You're better than this.

A knock at your door scares you within an inch of your life, and you cover your mouth to stifle any sound you might make. You creep towards the door, peeking through the peephole.

It’s Nick, with his hands shoved in his jacket pocket. You open the door and let him in.

“Hey,” He closes the door behind him, locking the deadbolt, “Any word?”

“Nothing. I got 2 calls, but it might be… someone else.”

He eyes you strangely, then takes his hands out of his pockets.

“I had this crazy idea,” He reveals what he’s got to you.

2 plane tickets from the nearby regional airport to LAX. You take them, staring up at him in disbelief.

“It’s crazy, I know,” He scratches the back of his head, “I just thought, if you’re gonna run, you might as well go far, far away. Somewhere exciting.”

You keep your eyes on him, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“And I’d wanna go with you.”

“What? Like, run away together?” You hand him the tickets back.

He looks at the floor.

“Look. Ever since I met you, I…”

“Don’t, Nick. I know you feel bad for me, but don’t say anything you don’t mean, okay?”

You walk to your couch, sitting with your hands in your lap.

“I mean it,” He appears in front of you. He looks so sincere, “I love you. In whatever way you want me to.”

You don’t really know what you feel for Nick. He’s been there, with you, since the beginning, but…

Do you love him? As a friend, maybe. You decide to shelve those feelings for now.

“I can’t leave, Nick.”

His face drops when you don’t respond to his confession.

“I have too many things here worth fighting for. I can’t leave. Plus, who’s to say my dad can’t find me wherever I go? I have to stay here and fix this.” You look out the window as another flash of lightning strikes.

Nick looks at you for a long time, head down, shoulders slouched. He finally speaks.

“Just think about it, okay?”

(tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @stargurl-01)

[sleepanonymous]

Hello!! I'm sorry if you've already answered this, but I was wondering how early you queued up for your ritual? Mine is in a few days, and I'm not sure how early to plan to be up and out the door. I would love to get barricade or close to it if I can! I was also wondering if you had any other tips for waiting in line for a while? Hydration and SPF are definitely gonna be a priority for me.

P.S. I always see you answering questions for others here in a very thorough and non-judgmental manner, and I really appreciate the positivity you bring to the fandom! Thank you for being around and creating such a welcoming space. It's one of the biggest reasons I've stayed interested in engaging in the fandom side of things.

Hi, thanks for the question! I think I have answered this on Tumblr already, but I don't mind talking about this again lol, especially since I think it was only in a comment on a post and not an actual post. I never mind going into details either. And thank you so much, there are some really shitty spaces in this fandom 👉👈🥹 I'm just trying to help keep the vibe on Tumblr friendly and welcoming. Nearly everyone here has been super lovely, so I'm lucky to be part of this side of the fandom 🖤

In Phoenix my friend group (four of us) showed up a little after 5:30 in the morning. There were four people ahead of us who lined up at midnight and 3:30 am. Because the pit was so small for the Phoenix ritual (I'm guessing 200 people max), only about two dozen people were in line by eight in the morning and every single one of us was on the barricade. This will be different for every venue depending on how it's sectioned off (pit vs seats vs lawn/grass etc.). So for a larger venue with a bigger pit section, you'll likely see more people lining up earlier in the morning.

The venue itself was extremely hospitable and allowed us inside the lobby area to use the restroom and refill our water bottles, except during soundcheck from around 3:00 pm to 4:30 pm. Obviously that's a venue thing, and not something I had ever experienced before, but you may get lucky, especially if the venue has security hanging out with the line in the daytime. Another tip if you haven't checked already, see if there are Fast Pass options for your venue that you can purchase as an add-on from Ticketmaster or through the local box office. Regardless of what time you show up or your number in line, those with a Fast Pass will always get through the doors first.

What I did before I knew that using the venue for water and bathrooms was an option was check out the surrounding area on Google maps. The Arizona Financial Theatre is in Downtown Phoenix, so there were a number of restaurants and I think a CVS within a half-mile that people from the line would occasionally visit (it also gave us a reason to walk around the venue and check out the tour busses lol). If this is an option, you can also scope out the venue the day/evening before the ritual; this is especially helpful if there's another concert going on that day, so you can see where the line forms for your venue and what the sunlight situation is like.

Since I didn't drive and I showed up to the venue using rideshare, I made the mistake of wearing my ritual outfit and makeup the entire day. It wasn't awful, but I am now sporting fishnet tan-lines on my legs 😆 What others did was show up in their pajamas or general street clothes, and closer to doors they changed into their ritual outfits and did their makeup in their cars. That's probably the only thing I would have done differently, to be honest; bring your outfit with you, and dress for the weather accordingly that day. Keep an eye on your weather app, especially if you're travelling and unfamiliar with the area you'll be waiting in. Also, check to see what time the sunrise happens in that location, because that's what made my friends and I decide on lining up at 5:30. No band is worth getting harassed in the middle of the night for, especially if you're in an all female/femme group.

Something that goes nicely along with SPF and hydration is earplugs. I bought knockoff Eargasm earplugs off Amazon since I knew I'd be going to a festival and 2 concerts within a week and didn't want to go deaf. They worked amazingly for me, in the pit at SNW, on the barricade in Phoenix, and at the back of the venue in Albuquerque, plus I didn't have to deal with my ears ringing for hours after.

This last thing isn't so much of a tip, but! Since you'll have the time while waiting and you're trying for barricade, learn the lyrics to an Empire State Bastard song or two. Specifically the last song of their set, The Looming. It's one of their more "chill" songs and has clean vocals. One of my friends started singing it back to the band during her second ritual of the tour, and Simon (the singer, and also likely one of baby Vessel's influences) got so happy he pointed her out in the crowd. Then you can make some British Millennials™️ very jealous by boasting about how the dude from Biffy Clyro pointed you out in a crowd.

This also isn't much of a line tip either, but if you're planning on filming/taking photos, use ESB as your test subjects to tweak your camera settings. That way you're not fumbling so much with your phone while Sleep Token is on stage.

[hongtiddiez]

ok i just read a post that reminded me of how im pretty sure i was visted by a nonbinary fae creature in the middle of downtown phoenix, arizona.

so i used to work downtown at this big fancy office job on the 13th floor of this massive fuck you skyscraper on washington st. i would sometime order lunch because there were just so many restaurants around the building and it would give me an excuse to go walk around and get the fuck out of that office.

now, i live in the country. i drove an hour just to get to work everyday. i did not know how city living worked.

so one day i order lunch and i'm going to pick it up and i stop at the corner because it says do not walk. and i stand there. and i stand there. and i stand there. and i'm like uuhh my break is NOT that long??? i need to get over there and get my lunch and get back so i still have time to eat!! uhh!!

and my distress must have been palpable because out of nowhere this person comes over and says "oh honey, you'll be waiting here forever. let me walk you across." and i'm fairly certain they were homeless, almost anyone you didn't see in a hurry or in business attire in downtown phoenix is. my coworkers always gave me shit because i would talk to the homeless around the office, give them whatever i had in my wallet, etc. they were like you're going to get hurt if you keep this up - whatever, fuck that, i'm never not going to treat people like human beings fuck off.

so i'm like "okay!! youre so sweet, thank you" because downtown is crawling with cops and i was like i KNOW if i j walk that'll be the moment i get caught and it'll be like a fucking thing. so this person walks me across the street and says "oh, don't worry. people like us have to stick together!!" and i'm like.. people like us?? ok sure yeah, theyre just being nice and friendly.

so i get across, go pick up my lunch, and i came out looking for them because i wanted to buy them lunch or even just sit and eat with them as a thank you and somehow in the like, 2 minutes it took me inside, they were just GONE. i looked up and down the street and nothing. bummer.

three years later i would go through a gender journey and realize i am not in fact cis but genderfluid. i dont know how this stranger that helped me walk across the street in busy downtown phoenix knew this about me before i did, but i think about them and that comment a lot. i hope they're doing good, i hope they're safe, and maybe they were a fae creature idfk.

[insomniac-jay]

Dinner Talk: LanceKiran

Subjects: Phoenix Knight (Lancelot Akirakami) & Kiran Akirakami

Restaurant: Kerala Indian Dining, downtown Setagaya

Orders:

Matar paneer with naan & diet coke - Phoenix Knight

Chicken makhani with white rice & lemonade - Kiran

Phoenix Knight: You look lovely, Kiki.

Kiran: Oh, thanks. The girls put the bow in my hair because they said I should pretty for our date.

Phoenix Knight: Did they now? Seems like they learned from your friends.

Kiran: The ladies? No. Probably from my shows.

Phoenix Knight: Speaking of the ladies, I heard you mention something about not telling me what they say about me.

Kiran: Oh. Um...

Phoenix Knight: You can tell me.

Kiran: They um...okay, so for context we somehow got on the subject of a couples night out and we ended up giving suggestions.

Phoenix Knight: Go on.

Kiran: Priya suggested we go to a coed hot spring and I got really embarrassed at the thought of them seeing you...nude.

Phoenix Knight: That smells like a lie.

Kiran: Okay, fine! I got embarrassed because they keep teasing me about having a...thing for big muscle guys and with you being there they'd ask all types of questions. Everytime I mention you they always bring up how...

Phoenix Knight: I understand. I get it from the guys about you.

Kiran: Really?

Phoenix Knight: Yeah. They're always saying that I must be really good in the sack if you can still walk after having four kids with me.

Kiran: That's a relief, at least. Would you want to go to a couples night out, though?

Phoenix Knight: I see no harm in it. It'll probably be fun, especially if Chargeman and his wife are there. Those two are the life of any party.

Kiran: I'll drink to that.

@floof-ghostie @calciumcryptid @s0ursop @opalofoctober @elflynns-horde-of-stuff @pizzolisnacks @peachyblkdemonslayer @autisticichihime

[elxctrics]

"i only call you when it's half past five, the only time that i'll be by your side. i only love it when you touch me, not feel me, when i'm fucked up, that's the real me."

(—) ★ spotted!! peroz ‘phoenix’ balik on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 32 year old looks like can yaman but i don’t really see it. while dj/club owner is known for being magnetic my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be conniving i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the hills by the weeknd {he/him / cismale} - penned by CANDICE, 26, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER

  ˗ˏˋ ＊ ‣ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬    :  

connections || musings || instagram || headcanons

name: peroz ‘phoenix’ amir balik

age: thirty two

nicknames: nix, wolf

date of birth: october 30th, 1992

astrological sign: scorpio

place of birth: bel air, california

occupation: dj / club owner

label: the casanova

positive traits: focused, determined, charming, diligent

negative traits: manipulative, selfish, apathetic, conniving

characters/celebrities he’s like: dennis reynolds from it’s always sunny in philadelphia, chuck bass from gossip girl, klaus mikaelson from the vampire diaries,  john mayer

career claim : calvin harris

𝓫𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂

born and raised in las vegas, nevada to a restauranter for a father and a celebrity party planner for a mother, it’s safe to say that peroz’s life has been nothing but one, big giant party.

with his father having a chain of luxury restaurants on the vegas strip in all of the most luxurious hotels and his mother rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, peroz fell in love with the night life far earlier than he probably should have.

workaholics and always working on their latest big project left peroz to his own devices more often than not - and a kid with money and nothing but time on his hands was a dangerous thing in sin city.

wickedly smart, but never applying himself in school, he used those smarts for other things - selling drugs on the low, making fake ids for his friends, bribing his way into the hottest nightclubs when he was underage, always with a knack to scheme and lie his way into whatever he wanted.

he’s always had laser focus, liking to turn the mundane into something extraordinary, and when he wasn’t running around the vegas strip causing trouble, he was in his room, headphones in, making remake mixes to some of the world’s most popular songs.

he began making youtube videos of his music when he realized that college wasn’t an option for him, considering he was rarely in school, and his videos and remixes garnished millions and millions of views

using his mother’s connections, he began to get djing gigs at all the most popular nightclubs on the vegas strip, eventually being a headliner himself.

partying and hanging out with celebrities every single night was exactly the life he wanted for himself. he craved a constant good time, forever wanting to be a peter pan boy that never grew up, and he soon realized that this career path was it.

instead of just making mixes, he began producing songs for popular artists and every time he did, they ended up at the top of the charts, which caused him to move to los angeles and take on a celebrity status, under his stage name, ‘phoenix’

never wanting anyone to tell him what to do, he started his own record label - that literally only produces his music and collaborations with other artists called ‘fly guy records.’

now, not only is he one of the biggest djs in the world, but he’s also an entrepreneur, and has opened two nightclubs - sound nightclub in downtown los angeles & hakkasan in los vegas.

there’s not a humble bone in his body, a true nepo baby who’s gotten nothing but praise for doing the bare minimum his entire life, he’s used his clout and fame to get him anything, and anyone he wants.

he’s a non-committal kind of man, bored easily and treats women like they’re disposable, but will put on the charming act to get what he wants out of them.

sickly sweet to get what he wants, once he does, a switch flips and he can become the most cold person you’ve ever met, but he simply doesn’t care - the world is his chessboard and everyone is merely a pawn to him in this game that he calls life.

[criminal-defenselaw]

Disorderly Conduct

Disorderly conduct is a charge that can arise from various situations, such as public disturbances, fights, or disruptive behavior. It’s often seen as a minor offense, but it can still lead to fines, community service, or even jail time. For those accused of disorderly conduct, having a skilled legal defense is crucial. A Gilbert Disorderly Conduct Lawyer from Genesis DUI & Criminal Defense Lawyers can provide the necessary expertise to handle these cases effectively. They work to understand the specifics of the situation, gather evidence, and develop a defense strategy that aims to reduce or dismiss charges. With their guidance, clients can navigate the legal system more confidently, ensuring their rights are protected throughout the process.

The Transportation System in Gilbert, Arizona

Gilbert, Arizona, has a convenient transportation system that makes getting around easy and helps residents and visitors move around comfortably and efficiently. The town is well-connected with several major roads and highways, like the Loop 202 and US Route 60, which help people travel to nearby cities quickly. Gilbert also has local buses that run throughout the town, providing a handy way for people to get around without a car. For those who prefer biking or walking, there are many paths and trails to enjoy. The town is also close to the Phoenix-Mesa Gateway Airport, which makes flying to other places simple.

Downtown Gilbert Water Tower

The Downtown Gilbert Water Tower is a landmark that stands tall in the heart of Gilbert, Arizona. This iconic tower has been around since 1927 and is a symbol of the town's history. It's located in the Heritage District, where people gather to enjoy the many shops, restaurants, and events. The water tower is beautifully lit at night, making it a popular spot for photos. It's also near a splash pad and a park where families can relax and have fun. The water tower represents Gilbert's growth from a small farming community to a vibrant, modern town. Whether you're exploring the area or just passing by, the Downtown Gilbert Water Tower is a must-see.

Sound Bites Music & Food Festival Debuts in Gilbert

Music and food festivals are popular because they offer lots of fun and excitement for everyone. At these festivals, people can enjoy great music from different bands and artists, which makes for a lively and enjoyable experience. They also get to taste a wide variety of delicious foods from different vendors. These festivals bring people together to share good times, try new things, and make memories. It's also a chance to meet new friends and enjoy the outdoors. Whether it's dancing to music or sampling tasty treats, music and food festivals are a great way for people to relax, have fun, and celebrate with others.

Link to map

Downtown Gilbert Water Tower 45 W Page Ave, Gilbert, AZ 85233, United States Head east on W Page Ave toward N Gilbert Rd 35 sec (308 ft) Follow E Elliot Rd and S Recker Rd 20 min (9.8 mi) Drive to your destination 49 sec (456 ft) Genesis DUI & Criminal Defense Lawyers - Gilbert AZ Office 4365 E Pecos Rd Ste 138, Gilbert, AZ 85295, United States

[sa7abnews]

I'm a travel planner. These 5 US destinations are my top recommendations right now.

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/11/im-a-travel-planner-these-5-us-destinations-are-my-top-recommendations-right-now-2/

I'm a travel planner. These 5 US destinations are my top recommendations right now.

People may not think to visit Milwaukee. Chris LaBasco/ShutterstockI'm a travel planner, and there are so many US destinations my clients are loving right now.Milkwakee is one of my favorite spots in the Midwest, and Newport is a great East Coast trip.Out West, there's the stunning Sedona, and Savannah is an underrated Southern town.As a travel planner, I book my fair share of national-park stays and Disney vacations, but my clients have also been loving some less advertised US destinations.If you're looking for a more under-the-radar spot for a family trip or romantic getaway, the States has plenty of low-key cities to choose from.Here are some of my favorites right now.Milwaukee is a Midwest gem.Milwaukee's Mitchell Park Domes is truly beautiful. Kelly Ermis/ShutterstockThe Wisconsin city is located on Lake Michigan's western shore, less than two hours from Chicago. For outdoorsy types, you can hit up Bradford Beach or hike and bike at Lakeshore State Park. If you like beer, tour some local breweries — Urban Harvest, Miller Brewing Company, Milwaukee Brewing Co. — and taste their offerings. Baseball fans can even spend a day tailgating and catch a Brewers game at American Family Field. Milwaukee has an expansive art museum and a spectacular zoo. The greenhouses at Mitchell Park Domes also showcase beautiful flowers and plants. Head west to experience the glorious Sedona.Sedona is a great destination for outdoorsy folks. suippi/ShutterstockLocated about two hours from Phoenix, Sedona is a nature-lover's paradise. The area's gorgeous red-colored rocks offer countless hiking opportunities, including braving Bell Rock butte. For more active adventures, there are great places to kayak and mountain bike, or you can head to one of the supernatural vortexes (energy hot spots) Sedona is known for. The natural water slide at Slide Rock State Park is a unique Arizona attraction, and Oak Creek is a gorgeous place to swim. If you're really brave, you can book a Pink Jeep Tour to see more of the nearby jaw-dropping sights while basically hanging off the cliffs. The Chapel of the Holy Cross is always at the top of my list, followed by an Old West chuckwagon dinner at Blazin' M Ranch. Downtown Sedona also has a plethora of retail and restaurant options, including the famous Cowboy Club.San Juan is a tropical destination that doesn't require a passport.Puerto Rico is a US territory. Sean Pavone/ShutterstockSan Juan is a great mix of beach fun and historical sightseeing. Plus, since Puerto Rico is a US territory, US citizens don't need a passport to visit.Visiting Old San Juan feels like taking a trip back in time. I suggest booking a tour that takes you to Capilla del Cristo, Santa María Magdalena de Pazzis Cemetery, and the San Juan Cathedral.Stay at one of the premier beach spots, like Hilton's El Conquistador Resort. And if you're looking for a thrill, book a snorkeling excursion at Icacos Island, hike through rainforests to search for waterfalls, or find a spot to go ziplining.My favorite experience, which cannot be missed, is kayaking to Laguna Grande at night to see spectacular bioluminescent water.Savannah has endless opportunities for fun, food, and relaxation.Savannah has some of the prettiest parks to stroll in. Sean Pavone/ShutterstockThe best time to visit Savannah, Georgia, is in the spring or fall when the weather is milder.Take some time to stroll the shops of River Street or hop on one of the city's famous ghost tours — Savannah is considered one of the most haunted cities in America. One of my favorite ways to see the city is by riverboat cruise, and if you have time, take a day trip to the lovely Tybee Island.History and architecture buffs should also explore the Olde Pink House, Forsyth Park, and the gorgeous homes on Jones Street.Mrs. Wilkes' Dining Room, which serves up southern delicacies, is the best place to grab lunch. Then, you can stroll the riverfront to grab a treat or drink.Newport is an East Coast delight.Newport is a charming coastal town. Marianne Campolongo/ShutterstockNewport, Rhode Island, is a mix of natural beauty, history, and stunning architecture — be sure to visit some of the town's historic mansions.I highly recommend renting a car and driving down the gorgeous Ocean Drive coastal road. But the city also offers Trolley Tours if you want to stick to the inland sights.You can also take in the views from the 3.5-mile Newport Cliff Walk or book a thrilling rail-bike tour.The town has many great restaurants, including The Mooring and Bar 'Cino. But if you can't choose, just book a food tour. There are also a number of nearby wineries and breweries, including Newport Vineyard and Greenvale, to check out.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 5

🔥Phoenix and Ashes

Suna Rintarou x f!reader

Summary: “It’s funny how nobody believed that we could make it work.” - “Well-maybe they were right.”

Meeting Suna Rintarou wasn’t part of your plan. Dating him, either. Getting your heart smashed into the palms of his hand, even less.

Content Warnings: Timeskip, A little bit of swearing, Fluff and Hurt, Mention of 1 Original Character, Manga Spoilers

Word count: 3.4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

You stayed at your parents’ house even after graduating high school. They say the first time you move out, it can be scary. Most people experience homesickness. But they did not tell you that, in your case, staying would be scarier because you don’t feel homesick for a place, but for a person.

You thought you could handle the distance that separates you from Rin, but every time you go back to Hyogo, when you step on the train and he waves at you; your heart breaks. The smell of your mother’s cooking, the comfort of your childhood bed, the freedom of being eighteen, nothing comes close to what you have when you are with him. You’re searching for the green of his eyes, for the sound of his voice in everyone you meet, but they are nowhere to be found. You only feel whole when he is by your side. It’s almost like you exist in two places here and where he is. It’s driving you crazy.

You used to wait for Mondays like a blazing desert awaits the cold of the night because you knew that Suna would be waiting for you at the entrance of the school, one hand in his pocket, the other on his phone. Now you hate Sunday nights because you have to leave him knowing he will not be here in the morning.

Umi has left for Tokyo where she studies medicine, the twins are in Osaka, and you see them more than your best friend now. Atsumu has signed a three-year contract with the MSBY Jackals, he doesn’t want you or his brother to come to his games as he is not a regular yet, but you both always find a new disguise to show up clandestinely. One time, you dressed up as cheerleaders. When his teammates saw you both in full attire, complete with pom-poms and shouting out Atsumu’s name — Osamu did most of the job though, firstly because you were shy and secondly because you were laughing too much, your stomach hurt — Atsumu’s face turned a shade of red you’d never seen before. He tried to ignore you both but failed miserably when his teammates started teasing him about his "devoted fans." Atsumu didn’t talk to you for two days (but it was worth it). Osamu works in a ramen restaurant downtown called Ramen Kazuya. Umi often thanks you for taking care of them (now that she is away and barely talks to the setter), you have to remind her that playing board games in the backroom of Osamu’s workplace while eating crisps and peanuts until the restaurant closes isn’t really taking care, but whatever.

From time to time you think your life in Osaka is nice.

Everything is almost perfect.

(If only you did not miss Rin so much).

Osamu hears the bells ring, indicating that a new customer has arrived. He is washing the last plate of the day, the water flows on his fingers which are more calloused now than when he played volleyball. He doesn’t turn around and simply announces, “sorry, we’re closed.”

It’s faint but he hears the “click” of a camera, he turns off the tap to see where it comes from.

That’s when he sees you standing there with a disposable camera, grinning.

You snap another picture of him, this time capturing his full expression.

"Hey!" he exclaims, half-confused and half-amused.

It’s not that he was not expecting you, you often come to the restaurant after you are done with your part-time job and he's on evening duty. The photo lab where you started working a few weeks ago is ten minutes away from Ramen Kazuya so you take the opportunity to stop by when you can. But today is Tuesday and you never work on Tuesdays.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asks, still trying to process what’s happening.

You lower the camera, “I got this from the photo lab. I thought I’d tried it.”

“I meant watcha doin’ here, it’s Tuesday.”

“Oh,” you take a seat at the counter, “I’m working additional days now. I need money, you know.” You offer him a sweet smile in an attempt to justify yourself.

Osamu doesn’t ask why, he knows you’re doing this to see Suna, as if your boyfriend couldn’t help you pay for the train tickets. The thought bothers him but he decides to ignore it.

“Hungry?”

You nod eagerly and follow him to the kitchen where he starts boiling the noodles and cutting slices of pork. Every step of the making is immortalised by your camera in different angles and lights.

You stop taking pictures to look at him, “your best profile is your left I think.”

He ignores your comment and the two eyes staring a him, “Dontcha wanna keep some for another time?”

“Nop.” He raises an eyebrow and faces you. “When you are a starred chef I’ll sell those to your fans. Am going to make a lot of money with it.” You conclude with a confident tone as if you just came out with a brilliant plan.

Osamu holds back a chuckle before going back to the main room.

He finally serves you a bowl of ramen (soy sauce, no menma - because you hate it, and boiled eggs instead of poached, it’s better for your digestion, you told him once) and you dig in with enthusiasm. “Itadakimasu.”

“How is Mizusawa-san doing?” You ask after a few seconds of degustation.

Osamu tells you about the old man, Mizusawa, the owner of the restaurant. A seventy-and-something-year-old who opened the restaurant in the sixties on the day of his twenty-first birthday. He has been running the business since then with his wife. When the latter passed away, his son insisted on finding someone to help him in the kitchen. Osamu had found the job advertisement one day when he was passing in the street. He changed his mind a couple of times before deciding to finally apply for it. (”Go for it, ‘Samu. There’s nothin’ to lose, yer scared or what?” his twin had challenged him, he couldn’t get away). The man and his son were arguing the day he came to introduce himself. Mizusawa-san who appeared reluctant at first, ended up taking a liking to him and hired him.

He works there full-time now and when you come to see Osamu, the old man never fails to feed you with oversized bowls of ramen and extra plates of rice.

“His health is doin’ better, he still comes here every day.”

“Good to hear.” You finish drinking the bouillon before continuing, “It’s so good. I really needed that.”

“Long day?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh, wiping your mouth. “I’ve been swamped with assignments. The social network club is more demanding than I thought. And between that and my part-time job, I barely have time to breathe.”

Osamu uses the palm of his hand to support his chin, elbow on the counter. He says nothing back and only watches you with a mix of amusement and sympathy.

You complain about overworking yourself but it’s only to keep your mind occupied. Your program in communication and community management is quite demanding by itself but you still decided to join a club from your university.

Weekends come faster this way.

The longing hurts less.

Osamu takes advantage of your focused face while eating to snap a picture of his own. You left the camera next to you but it is not hard for him to grab it. The lens is small but he can see some details through it. Your hair is messy and your lips are greasy from the food. You look like a child eating her birthday cake.

“Stop!” you protest, getting up to take the camera from him.

You swing your arms in all directions but the counter is separating you and Osamu is no match to you. He takes another photo to tease you, this one is even more precious, he thinks. This time you make an angry face (though you don’t look too scary) and your hair is messier than before. Just then, your phone rings. You’re so fast to reach for it, that Osamu thinks you were teleported. Your face immediately lights up when you get it from your bag, it doesn’t take long for him to connect the dots.

"Sorry, I have to take this. It's Rin."

Your smile is so bright, Osamu wonders if it’s made from stardust.

“No worries.” A corner of his mouth lifts a little.

“Rin!” You exclaim, closing the door behind you. Your skin is tingling at the mere thought of hearing his voice. He hasn't even spoken yet, but you already feel the familiar warmth spreading through you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m with Osamu. He was about to close the restaurant,” you explain, glancing back at Osamu through the window. He's wiping down the counter, but his eyes flicker toward you every now and then.

“Cool, say hi,” Suna replies nonchalantly.

You hear chatters from a distance as well as music.

“I will.”

You’re about to ask him where he is since you don’t remember him telling you he would be going out but he is faster than you.

“So, you tried to call me earlier?”

“I...mh...yes, I wanted to ask you something. I was thinking maybe next weekend you could come since you don’t have any games.” You bite your lip, hoping he can hear the eagerness in your voice.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have the birthday of a guy from my class.”

“Oh… No problem, I understand. I’ll see you the weekend after then,” you respond, trying to mask your disappointment with forced cheerfulness.

“You ain’t coming to Hiroshima?”

“I will be celebrating with my parents, so-”

“Rintarou,” a girl's voice interrupts you on the other side of the line, your heart tightens at the sound. You were not expecting him to be out, let alone with a girl.

“I’m coming.” Then, he says something else but it’s too faint for you to decipher the words. You picture him putting the phone away and talking to the girl. What does she look like, you wonder? Is she a girl from a class or did he meet her at the party where you guess he is? The thoughts remind you of how far you are from him, of how unpalpable he is. You feel defenceless.

“Sorry baby, I have to go. Text me when you’re home,” his voice is louder now, you are almost startled by it.

You mumble a shy goodnight and hang up.

It’s mid-July, the air is heavy from the lack of fresh breeze. Maybe it’s because of the weather, but you’re assaulted by the fear of suffocating. Your lungs feel empty and so full at the same time. You don’t realise that you’re still staring at the black screen absentmindedly until you hear the sound of keys jangling. The next second a grey-haired head is handing you the bag that you left inside.

“So? What’s the plan?” Osamu asks with curiosity.

“Mmh… he can’t come next weekend. It’s the birthday of one of his friends,” you relay to Osamu before putting your phone in your pocket.

His brows furrow, “what did ya tell him?”

“Nothing,” you reply, shrugging and trying to play it off.

“Huh? But it’s also yer birthday, dumbass. Ya should have insisted,” Osamu scolds, his voice gentle but firm. He’s frowning more now.

You don’t answer and he knows you’re done with the conversation. He snorts quietly to restrain himself from saying something.

“I’ll go to the station.”

“I’ll take ya.” He responds almost instantly.

Of course he will, he always does. Ever since he got his driving license in April and his dad gave him his old Toyota (”What does ‘Samu get a car and not me?” Atsumu had complained, “Pass yer license first ya moron.”)

You take a moment to look at him, there is a certain warmth in his eyes and you choose to follow him.

“Thanks for the ramen by the way.” You start after a long moment of silence.

“Sure.” He wants to keep his focus on the road, but his eyes steal a brief side glance at you. You’re buried in the seat, forehead against the window. He can’t see you but he can guess the look on your face. Thoughtful. Elsewhere. He did not notice before that your tee-shirt is way too large for you. It’s probably Suna’s, he realises. There’s a drop of sweat rolling down your neck, it makes your hair curl a little bit - he really needs to fix the air conditioning. He grips the wheel tighter to regain his concentration.

“You passed the station Osamu.” You’re confused when he doesn’t stop.

He clears his throat, “Am ridin’ ya home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, champion.” He simply answers with a smile.

“He was with a girl, Umi.”

Your best friend, on the other side of the line, sighs softy, not in an annoyed way but to think before assuming the worst.

“She’s probably just a classmate.”

“She called him Rintarou.”

“Most people use first names in uni.” She says with conviction.

You grunt. Umi is coming up with rational answers and you know she is being honest with you. She hasn’t been the biggest supporter of your relationship ever since you decided to change your plans for him, but she still tries to offer you objective advices in this kind of situation.

You curl up so that you can lean your cheek on your knees.

Your best friend is probably studying as you hear the sound of pen straching and pages turning.

“I don’t think you have to worry, really. You know I think Suna isn’t the most… caring boyfriend.” You know “caring” is the less insulting adjective she found, “But he wouldn’t play with you like that.”

She is right, you repeat to yourself. For now, it’s enough for your mind to find some peace but you still want to end the discussion here, if the thought of your boyfriend with another girl lingers any longer, you might not be able to sleep tonight. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“How is he doing?” she asks, her voice has softened.

“Good.” You lay fully on your bed. “He’s practising every day, his coach told him he could be regular next season if he keeps on improving.”

“I’m happy for him.” After a second or two, she keeps going but this time there’s something fragile in her voice. “Does he ask about me?”

You hesitate but remember that she only deserves the truth. “I-hm-not really. But I talk about you a lot, so he indirectly has news about you.”

There’s a brief silence, then “I see. It’s only fair.”

Even though you can’t see her, you can feel the weight of her disappointment, “I’m sure he misses you, you know. He just… doesn’t show it. And you know Atsumu, he’s bad with feelings.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I don’t blame him though, I’m not an example myself.” She offers a little laugh, a bitter one, in an attempt to reassure you. “Thanks for letting me know.”

You smile and you realise the knot in your stomach has disappeared.

“Well, I need to go back to my anatomy lesson now. Did you know that the human nose can remember over fifty thousand different scents?” Her voice is steadier now.

“I did not know Chihara-sensei. That’s gonna be very useful in my life.”

She hears the irony in your voice, “shut up.”

You both burst into laughter and for a fleeting moment, you pretend you’re still in the corridors of Inarizaki High, sitting on the stairs and listening to her funny stories about the twins.

“If you could remember only one scent what would it be?” She asks but quickly gives a rule, “it can’t be Suna’s smell. Gross.”

She knows you too well, you would obviously choose his scent. Wet wood and pumpkin spices.

You decide to play along, “then I would say,” you look at the ceilings and enumerate the options. You think about the cherry cake your grandmother bakes you and the smell of cut grass when your father takes care of the garden. But your final choice is on something more recent. “Ramen. Those with soy sauce and pork. What about you?”

Her answer is quicker than yours, “the smell of the sea.”

After that, she complains about her roommate asking her to be quiet. “I have to hang up. That Shirabu guy is the serious type, you know,” she explains. “But he always cleans after him so he’s forgiven.”

As soon as you bid her goodnight, you can't help but glance at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you open your messages. Your conversation with Suna automatically appears. Your eyes are fixed on yesterday’s messages.

“I’m home. I hope you’re having fun. I can’t wait to see you next weekend, I love you.” You texted him around midnight.

“me too! Iolve u night night” received at 4.02 am. Then half an hour later, “idk why osamu is maad at me!!! r u mad too???”

If the first message gave you a clue about his state, the second one confirmed it. He was drunk. Sober Suna would never use so many punctuation marks. You responded by telling him you were not mad and Osamu neither (you can’t actually be sure but you bet if he were, he would have told you).

“sorry i think i drank too much.”

You only read that last message this morning, when you woke up. You tried to call him but after one ring you received another message from him, “my head hurts, i’ll call you later <3”

Since then, radio silence.

You struggle to fall asleep that night, the absence of Rin keeping you awake and aching. How many times can your heart handle breaking?

On the morning of your birthday, you feel sick. You know you should be excited by it, opening presents, eating a cake, seeing your friends, those usually are synonyms of joy. Still, on the day you turn nineteen, they are not.

You check your phone, the light hurts a little but your eyes adapt to it quickly. One message from Kita (even at wishing birthdays, he is first), four from Umi, one missed call from your grandmother, but it’s the ones from Osamu that catch your attention.

“Happy birthday champion! You’re the first to turn 19, how does that feel?”

Then, “Can you come to the restaurant at 11 plz? I need help with something.”

Osamu doesn’t usually ask for help (at least with you, he’s not as cautious with his brother). And in fact, it’s almost always the other way around. You’re the one who volunteers to lend a hand, whether it's washing dishes, restocking ingredients, or simply keeping him company during the slow hours. You don’t understand why he would need you on a Saturday morning but you don’t question it further. He rides you home and feeds you more than he should, you owe him that. And it gives you a reason to not stay depressed in your bed all day.

You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed. The disappointment from the last few days still lingers. Suna not being able to come for your birthday is a heavy weight on your heart. You thought you had prepared yourself for it, but waking up without a message from him makes you feel even worse.

You get dressed slowly, trying to shake off the gloom. It’s already warm outside, and the heat hits you as soon as you step out. The sun is high in the sky, and you can almost feel the concrete burning under your steps. You make a quick stop by your part-time job at the photo lab to print the photos from the disposable camera you used with Osamu.

Next, you head to the konbini for an iced tea. The cold drink offers a brief respite from the heat. You sip it slowly, hoping it will cool the sadness in your chest as well. The streets are bustling with people, but you feel oddly detached as if you’re watching everything from a distance.

When you arrive in front of the restaurant, you see Osamu. He probably just arrived as the menu hasn’t been put outside and the door is closed. You’re slow to realise he is not alone. Next to him, standing tall, Suna. You spot him first. With his hands in his pockets, dressed in a black shirt and grey shorts, you take the time to admire how perfect he is Absolutely beautiful in an impossible way. He may be a little bit younger than you, but he doesn’t look like a high schooler anymore probably thanks to the hours of training (volleyball in university is not a joke.)

“Rin?” you say, more a breath than a word, when you reach the two boys.

He looks up and smiles, the kind of smile that makes your heart stop in the best way.

“Hey! Happy birthday,” he says, his voice soft and warm.

The sickness melts away.

“I thought you couldn’t come,” you manage to say, almost tripping on your words.

“I rearranged some things,” he replies, stepping closer.

Your cheeks start hurting, and you can’t stop smiling.

“Is that why you needed me for?” You turn to Osamu, arms crossed on your chest.

Osamu clears his throat, “yeah I needed ya to keep yer boyfriend company. Can’t really babysit him today, am busy. And I’ve had my life quota of babysittin’ with that brat of ‘Tsumu.”

“Are you comparing me to Atsumu? Man that hurts.” Suna interferes.

“Alright, I take it back, that was quite insultin’, my bad. Now both of you leave, enjoy yer date or whatever.” He slaps Suna on the back.

Your boyfriend starts walking away but before joining him you turn to Osamu one last time.

“Thanks, Osamu. I mean for this,” you say, gesturing to Rin. You assumed Osamu was the one behind the surprise and his next words confirm it.

“Anytime. Happy birthday, by the way.”

He gives you a little box, it’s simple and probably reused, but what’s inside isn’t.

He cooked two onigiris, each of them decorated with a kanji made of nori. Happy birthday, on the first one and Champion, on the second.

The hunger comes the second you open the box.

“That looks so good Osamu, thank you. I’ll share it with Rin.”

You’re so grateful for your friend, you want to say more than just a thank you but he cuts you off by pushing you towards Rin and wishing you a nice day.

The day turns out to be nice, without any surprise. You take a walk along the river, stop by various food stalls in Dotonbori Street, eat takoyaki and torikaya — you look nothing more than two tourists. You finally decide to sit down a little bit in a café before the night falls. The day passes you by and before you can even fully process his presence, he announces his train is in one hour.

You pause and look at him confused, “You’re not staying at my house tonight?”

“Don’t want to bother your parents and I have a birthday tomorrow, I told you last time.” He doesn’t meet your eyes, focusing on taking a bite of the shared pancakes you have ordered.

“Ah-yeah… Sorry.” You want to hide the disappointment in you. You play with your fork, it clatters against the plate. “Whose birthday?”

“Hana’s.” He finally looks at you.

Your throat feels dry, again. You try to recall the conversation you had over the phone, didn’t he say it was the birthday of a guy?

You already know the answer but you still ask him (or rather, you’re standing in front of a cliff but you decide to jump anyway.)

“Is she the girl you were with last time?”

“Yeah.”

Confusion mingles with the dryness in your throat, but you force a smile, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I see,” you say, trying to sound casual. “I’ll get some water.”

You rise from your seat, your mind racing. The thought of Hana, whoever she is, gnaw at you. You don't realise your bag is tipping over until you see the contents on the floor.

“Shit,” you mutter, crouching down to gather your belongings. Suna is by your side in an instant.

As you both reach for a white envelope at the same time, Suna gets it first. It opens slightly, and a few photos slip out, catching his eye. All of them feature whether you or Osamu (or a bowl of ramen, but it’s definitely not what stands out to him). He picks them up, there’s a moment of silence as he looks at them then, a chuckle.

“Miya Osamu sure is good-looking.”

You take the envelope from him. “I-I guess.” you say, stuffing the photos back inside. “We were just messing around in the restaurant.”

Suna’s expression is hard to read, a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite place. “Cool,” he remarks, his tone neutral.

Saying goodbye is hard, even though he tells you you’ll see each other next weekend. You find yourself being mad at yourself for feeling so weak. You want to enjoy your last minutes together but there’s an emptiness inside you that you feel in every fibre of your being. He is about to step on the train when you grab the sleeve of his shirt and tell him to wait.

He gives you a moment to explain yourself but the words don’t come out.

“I really have to go, baby.” He frees himself from your grip and kisses your forehead, “text me when you’re home.”

He disappears and your heart breaks. Again. And again. And again.

But then, you remember, loving him is worth any distance, any pain, any heartbreak.

So you take a deep breath to regain some strength.

Keep on loving him and he’ll keep on loving you.

That’s enough.

Right?

author notes: how do you guys feel about this new chapter? I really enjoy developing reader and Osamu's friendship, I hope you'll like it too :)

Elie

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @obibiwan, @teyvatsunsets

[craigchelo]

Chelo’s Hometown Bar & Grille, the largest family-owned restaurant company in Rhode Island since 1955, presently boasts 8 locations throughout the state.