#i promise she's not always this much of a downer

[eiightysixbaby]

i’ll be home for christmas

PART ONE: Last Christmas

series masterlist || next part

word count: 5.8k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you feel like you’ve been floating through life since eddie left town last christmas. what are you supposed to do when everything reminds you of him, and christmas doesn’t feel the same anymore?

cw: switches between past and present tense, angst angst angst, reader’s nickname is ‘sunny’.

author’s note: i cannot express how excited i am to finally be sharing the first part to this story! i have truly poured every possible ounce of my energy into this and i really hope it shows. thank you in advance for reading, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it.

Present Day: December 17th, 1989.

Snowflakes swirl around your face, dancing in front of your nose before being whisked away in a flurry of cold air. It’s not snowing hard — just enough to make Hawkins feel more magical. You stuff your hands into your coat pockets, eagerly awaiting the steaming cup of coffee you’re headed for. Behind you, Nancy pleads with Mike to put a hat on because his ears are bright red from the cold, and of course he doesn’t listen. Stubborn as usual. Steve calls him a little shit, and you roll your eyes to yourself as they bicker. You can’t quite bring yourself to laugh, though, and you don’t turn around to join in on the teasing like you usually would. Your eyes are angled down, watching as your boots press imprints into the dusting of snow that coats the pavement beneath you.

“I always thought Hawkins looked its prettiest when it’s snowing,” Robin’s voice says from behind you, getting clearer as she jogs to catch up to you.

Your shoes scuff against the frosty sidewalk, a little hum leaving you as you glance around at the town center. The storefronts are all decorated for the upcoming holiday, strings of garland and pretty green wreaths with red ribbon hanging on every door. Cheery window displays with Santa Claus and artificial Christmas trees liven up the shops. Shiny red and gold baubles hang from bare trees, string lights wrap around ornate light poles and coil up until they kiss the big red bows that are tied around the tops.

Robin’s right. It is pretty. The snow makes everything even more picturesque, like you’re living in a town inside of a snow globe. This could be the setting of a holiday movie, as far as you’re concerned. You’ve always loved Christmas, it’s always been the happiest time of the year for you. This year, though, is different. The warmth and joy you usually feel every December is gone, left behind on a snowy night last year. Robin senses your sadness, of course she does, because she’s sensed it just about every single time it’s crept up on you over the course of the last 12 months. Ever the empath, that one.

“Hey, I know it’s hard for you this year, kid,” she says, softer now, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder as you walk side-by-side. Her vibrant blue eyes catch yours, studying you carefully. “You know we’re feeling it too. And we’re all here for you,” she adds, nodding in the direction of the rest of your friends.

Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and the kids all trail behind you, spread out on the sidewalk. You know they’re all feeling the difference of this holiday, too. In their own ways, they’re hurting too. You know you’re not the only one. You almost feel selfish, but you know that’s not what your friends would want, so you try your best to shove it down.

“I know, Rob. Thank you. I promise I’m not trying to be a downer,” you say, taking a shaky inhale. Crisp, cold air fills your lungs, the icy chill almost burning.

“No, hey, don’t do that. You’re not being a downer. We’re gonna have you all merry and bright in no time,” she says with her signature pretty smile, but you feel like she’s trying to reassure both you and herself as she says it.

You hope she’s right. You long to break free from the shackles of the numbness that’s clung to you this entire year. A certain someone’s absence that’s left you feeling hollow.

You reach the coffee shop, holding out a gloved hand to open the door for your friends. You trail in behind everyone, warm air hitting you in a comforting wave, like a blanket wrapping around your frame. The entire place smells like fresh coffee grounds and hints of vanilla, and you inhale deeply, letting it envelope you.

You vaguely hear Dustin and Max arguing about whether hot chocolate or coffee is the better hot beverage, before your ears tune in to the Christmas music playing over the speaker. “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” rings out in the small space, and you feel as though you’ve been punched in the gut as the soothing voice croons through the sound system. What should be a happy, comforting song only adds salt to your wounds, and if you had any say here you’d turn it right off. It reminds you of all of the things you wish you could forget, reminds you that you won’t be spending this Christmas with the person you should be. Longing coils its way around your heart, squeezing tight enough you feel it could shatter.

“What’re you gonna get?” Jonathan asks from beside you, bringing you out of your head as you realize you’d been staring aimlessly at the menu.

“Huh? Oh, um, probably a vanilla latte. Boring, I know,” you give him a little smile, the best you can muster, which he returns.

“Nah, it’s a classic. Can’t go wrong,” he says, walking towards the waiting cashier to go and order.

He orders his drink and yours, paying for both before you can get a word in edgewise. “Jonathan—” you start as you both move to the side to wait for your items.

“Don’t offer to pay me back. It’s my treat, okay?” he insists, giving you a knowing look. It’s his way of trying to cheer you up, to bring that holiday spirit back to life inside of you.

You and Jonathan had been friends for years now, he’d been a part of the group since the beginning, but only in this past year did you become especially close. He’d been such a big support system for you, letting you vent when you needed to and only offering advice when you explicitly asked for it. He’s an exceptional listener, the perfect confidant, and you’re grateful for his friendship. You’re grateful for the whole gang — their warmth and consistent companionship making everything easier for you.

Jonathan tells you to go sit with the others, assuring you that he’ll collect the drinks and bring them over to the table. Coats and scarves and gloves are discarded, hung on the coat rack that’s nestled in the corner right behind the two tables Nancy chose for you all. She sits next to Robin, the taller girl draping an arm over the back of Nancy’s chair, fingertips brushing her shoulder affectionately through her fluffy sweater. You sit across from Steve, opting for the seat closest to the window so you can look out. Max, Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike all sit at their own table, animatedly chatting about the Secret Santa gift exchange they’re doing. You giggle lightly when Dustin accidentally reveals that he’d drawn El’s name, the table immediately grilling into him and roaring with laughter.

Jonathan sits down beside you with the drinks and you immediately grab your cup, the warmth from it soothing your hands. You slip into easy conversation; talking about what Christmas gifts you all still have to buy and coming up with a plan for the group Christmas party, discussing your jobs and all of the usual things.

“And so I’m banging on the bathroom door, right? Yelling at Steve to come help me with this customer,” Robin rambles animatedly, her hands flying as she tells a story from work. “He comes out of the bathroom, and the fucking button on his pants pops off. His pants literally fall down around his ankles in the middle of the bakery. I’m peeing myself laughing at this point, the customer is still angrily waving his fist at me—” she keeps talking, you know she does, but your attention is diverted elsewhere in the midst of her anecdote.

A car horn honks outside, making you turn your head towards the commotion just in time to see a van pull up at a stop light outside of the coffee shop. A van that makes your heart feel like it’s plummeted to the bottom of your stomach. A Chevy, a deep burgundy in color with a cream stripe running along the side. You feel your mouth go dry as you’re plagued with a flood of memories. You vaguely register Jonathan and Nancy’s laughter towards Robin, you know you should be laughing too, but your mind is already far away from this moment — transported somewhere else. Back to a year ago. Back to Eddie.

Christmas Eve, 1988.

You hoist yourself up into the van, a smile on your face as you sit down, instantly pressing your hands to the air vents to try and warm them up. You’re buzzing from the party at Steve’s, waving enthusiastically to the host in question as he closes the front door to his house. Eddie had insisted on warming the vehicle up for you while you said your goodbyes to everyone, and he watches you from the driver’s seat as you buckle your seatbelt.

“So, where are you taking me, handsome?” you ask, barely able to contain your joy.

“You’ll see,” he says, giving your hand a squeeze. He shoots you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, but you shake it off easily, assuming he’s just getting tired. You know you were.

Snow flies sideways in the beams of the headlights, those big, fluffy flakes that have always been your favorite. You drive past houses decorated like something out of a scene from a movie; rainbow lights coiled around bushes and pine trees, white bulbs lining rooftops and candles glowing in windows. Every door seems to don a wreath with a big red bow, and even some snowmen wave at you with their stick arms, mittens held high in the air.

It’s magical, that’s the only word you could use. Your heart feels like it could burst out of your chest, giddy like a child again. Christmas music plays on the radio and Eddie hums along to it beside you, making you want to grab him and kiss him and just never let go. What you two had going on was unlabeled, at the moment, but the tension between you was tangible. Your seemingly upcoming relationship had become the butt of the affectionate jokes in your friend group, the gang being less than subtle about what they expected from you and Eddie. And they didn’t even know about the kiss yet…

Being with him felt like everything good in the world, wrapped in a tiny package and sealed with a bow. Sometimes he would look at you like he loved you, and sometimes you felt like you loved him. There was no rush, no hurry, no deadline with Eddie. You let things flow naturally, progress gradually as you enjoyed getting closer and closer with one another. You’re feeling like tonight might be the night, like he might finally ask you to be his.

The van drives across snowy backroads, a dense layer of trees on either side. You know exactly where you’re headed now, hands rubbing on your thighs in an absentminded fidget. It’s not long until you pull up beside Lover’s Lake; your usual spot, your special spot. There’s a lonely dock leading out to the water, a dock that you’ve spent many a night sitting at while you gazed at the stars with the curly haired boy. It, too, is decorated for the holiday now, strands of lights twisted around the railings, illuminating the surrounding frozen water.

Eddie puts the van in park, killing the engine before his door swings open with a reluctant creak. You open your own door, only to be met with him extending a hand for you to take, helping you down onto the icy ground. You tug your hat further down over your ears, slipping your gloves out of your coat pocket and onto your hands. Eddie’s grabbed a blanket from the back of the van, tucking it under his arm. You can see your breath with every exhale as your boots crunch through the dirt and grass, walking to the dock with Eddie right in front of you.

The blanket is laid out on the old wooden planks, serving as a buffer between you and the cold, frozen surface of the dock. You gaze out at the vast expanse of the lake, a few lights twinkling on the opposite shore. You reach for Eddie’s hand, giving his fingers a squeeze before just holding them, your gloves providing him with some extra warmth.

“I have something for you,” he says then, taking you by surprise.

“Eddie, I thought we were exchanging gifts tomorrow—” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“This couldn’t wait,” he insists, and his eyes hold an emotion you can’t place.

Is this it? Is he going to ask you to be his girlfriend?

His hand fumbles around in his coat pocket before he finds what he’s looking for, retrieving a tiny velvet box. A dainty ribbon is wrapped around it, tied with a bow on the top, and you gasp a little when you see it. He hands it off to you, watching as you delicately pull the knot loose, setting the shiny ribbon in your lap. You open the box with so much care, a hand flying to cover your mouth when you see what waits for you.

A beautiful gold necklace with a heart pendant rests on the silky bunch of fabric inside the box. You lift the pendant with a finger, noticing an engraved ‘E’ in the center of the heart. The whole thing is dainty, not flashy, not too much, but yet more than enough.

“Eddie—” you breathe, tears pricking in your eyes as you meet his stare.

He looks nervous. He’s not smiling.

“I want you to have that so you never forget me, and how much you mean to me,” he says, scooting closer to you.

He pulls you to him, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could never forget you, what do you mean?” you ask, clutching the box close to your body.

“Sweetheart, there’s something I need to tell you. And I need you to try and understand,” he says, and the words immediately make your stomach flip. You feel ill, and he hasn’t even told you what he needs to tell you yet.

You close the box, holding it even tighter, as if it could freeze this moment in time.

He pulls back just slightly, enough so he can look you directly in the eye. One hand rests on your cheek, the shockwaves of his touch reaching the deepest parts of your soul.

“I’m leaving Hawkins. Tomorrow,” he says finally, a shuddering breath leaving him.

And that was the moment your whole world shattered.

Present Day: December 17th, 1989.

You’re torn from your memories at the feeling of Jonathan’s hand on your arm, his voice calling to you through the fog you feel floating in your brain.

“Sunny, hey, you okay?” he prods, concern evident on his face when you turn to look at him.

Nancy, Steve, and Robin look expectantly at you from the other side of the table, worried about where you’d drifted off to.

“Yeah, I— I’m fine,” you say, giving a smile that’s less than believable. “Sorry, just… thinking. Lots going on for the holidays, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan says, squeezing your shoulder as if to let you know he’s here for you.

He gives you that look he always gives you when he knows there’s something you aren’t telling him, he knows you too well. You feel bad lying to him, but you don’t want to bring up Eddie in front of the whole group right now. Robin was telling a funny story. Your friends deserve to laugh, to be happy. They don’t need your anguish. Saving face is the easiest option.

To your appreciation, they simply ease back into the conversation at hand. Your hand reflexively reaches up to your chest, grabbing at the small pendant that rests there. Your thumb runs over the engraving that you know is the letter E, your breath leaving you shakily. You take one final look out the window, the van from before now gone — much like the man it reminded you of.

You end up making an excuse to leave your friends early that day, no longer feeling able to force a positive attitude. You know they must be worried, know that they see through your facade, and guilt gnaws at your insides. All they’ve done is try and try to keep your spirits up, to help you move past everything, and you’re just stuck in the past. You haven’t exactly been easy to help, either. You miss Eddie, but every time he’s called you decline speaking to him. You can’t — certain that you wouldn’t even know what to say and that you’d just cry helplessly into the phone. And nevertheless your friends persist, always there when you need them and always willing to cheer you up. Plans are made with Nancy and Robin to bake Christmas cookies sometime soon — an offer you couldn’t possibly refuse at the way they so excitedly ask you to join them — before you bid everyone goodbye and part ways.

You stomp your snow-covered boots on the doormat just inside of your apartment, kicking them off haphazardly as the icy sludge begins to melt on the ground. You float around the space as you hang up your coat and remove your gloves, hat, and scarf, your body physically completing the actions but your brain residing somewhere else entirely. You curl up on your couch, wrapping yourself in your favorite blanket as you stare blankly at the black screen of your tiny television. The glow of your Christmas tree does nothing to soothe you — where it used to be a comfort, it now feels like a headache. You have half a mind to tear down all of your decorations, but you know it wouldn’t truly make you feel any better.

As if you weren’t sad enough already, as if the past eleven months haven’t been torturous enough, you really can’t get Eddie out of your head now. Seeing a lookalike van to his shouldn’t bother you, nearly a year later. Something so commonplace shouldn’t phase you. You press the heels of your palms to your closed eyes, willing your tears not to fall, willing yourself to forget him and forget it all and leave him in your past. You know it’s hopeless, you know you can’t possibly forget him, and it only makes you more frustrated.

One hand grips the pendant of your necklace, pulling roughly on the chain and making it snap. You toss it onto your coffee table, sobs wracking through your entire body now. Your fingers rest where the necklace once was, feeling the loss of him, something tangible. Laying down on the worn cushions, tears blur your vision as you cry, left alone to remember. And you remember everything.

Christmas Eve, 1988.

Your brows furrow, your brain not comprehending what he’s saying. “I don’t.. I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“I found a place in Chicago. I can’t be in Hawkins anymore, Sunny, I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t belong here. I need to go out on my own and make something of myself,” he says, wincing as if it pains him to speak about. You don’t have the grace in this moment to see that it does pain him. More than he can say.

“No…” you say, tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head furiously. “No, this is a joke. This has to be a joke,” you try to convince yourself, moving to stand. Your chest feels tight, like all the air has been stolen from your lungs.

“Sweetheart—” Eddie says, standing with you, reaching an arm out to steady you when your boot slips on the icy dock.

“Don’t touch me!” you shout, louder than you’d ever wanted to be with him. “You can’t—” your voice breaks, your lip wobbling. “You can’t leave me.”

“I have to. You’ll be better off without me, okay? You have Nance and Robin, and Jonathan and Steve.”

“What about them?” you ask, voice quiet.

“What?”

“What about them? Did you tell them that you’re leaving? Did you tell the kids?”

“I… no. I need you to explain everything, okay? I didn’t want to ruin the Christmas party,” Eddie says, his eyes averting your gaze, shifting on his feet.

“Oh, but it’s okay to ruin my night? It’s okay to ruin my life?” you hiss. Eddie’s visibly taken aback by this, his eyes impossibly sad. You know the last part may have been too much, but you don’t care.

“You’re going to be fine without me,” he says, puffs of fog leaving his mouth with each word against the cold wind.

“What about us, Eddie!?” you cry, your throat raw with the way you scream it. “You’re going to act like this is nothing? Like we have nothing!?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He stands maybe two feet away from you, silent, his figure illuminated only by the string lights wound around the railings to the dock. His silence rings in your ears.

“So that’s it. You’re just going to go away, leave me here and forget about me,” your voice trembles, your feet stepping backwards as you start to distance yourself from him.

“I could never forget about you, I don’t want to forget about you!” he emphasizes, moving towards you. “You’re the only person I’ve told this to besides Wayne! Because I care about you far too much to just go,” he says, his voice breaking as he steps closer still.

“Oh, my hero,” you scoff, shaking your head as you wipe tears from your cheeks.

You turn on your heel and start running towards the van, your heart feeling like it’s being wrung out in your chest. The wind hurts your face, every snowflake that hits your skin pricking you like a needle.

“Sunny. Sunny!” he shouts after you, his shoes crunching on the frozen ground as he tracks you down. Hearing the nickname he’d so fondly given you ages ago — because you’re always ‘a ray of sunshine’ in his words — simply feels like he’s driving a knife through your heart now. “Please, I need you to understand—”

“How could I? How could you ask this of me!?” you sob, your defenses raised high. “I could’ve gone with you!”

“No! You need to be here, you’re happy here! You have friends and family and a job that you love — here.”

“You have friends here. You have Wayne, and you have me,” you say through gritted teeth, sniffling hard.

“I need to go. I need to get away from this town,” he says softly, mournfully. “Please…”

“Take me home, Eddie.”

“Baby—”

“Take me home! I don’t want to be near you any more, take me the fuck home!” you grit, pushing him away when he tries to hold you.

“Okay,” he sighs, defeated. “I’ll take you home.”

The ride to your place is alarmingly silent, your mind hazy as you stare blankly out the window. The happy hugging families and Christmas lights and snowmen mock you as you drive past, every joyful scrap of the holiday feeling like a sick joke now. Your stomach is in knots, your heart breaking inside of your chest with every passing second. You feel like you’re in a daze, like you aren’t even real.

His van finally pulls into the parking lot to your apartment, the snow swirling harder now in the glow of his headlights. It doesn’t look light and delicate as it had before, it doesn’t shimmer the way it used to. It looks foreboding, plummeting to the ground in fast, aggressive streaks.

“Sweetheart—” Eddie starts, and you scoff before he can keep going. Tears slide down your face as you shake your head, your lip wobbling.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t you dare call me that if you’re really about to leave me,” you say, voice thick with the bile that rises to your throat.

“I have to go. I’m so sorry. You’ll be better without me, I’m so sorry.”

“Goodbye, Eddie,” you say, so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it.

You open the passenger door, hopping out of his van for the last time. You’d climbed into this van a mere hour ago so hopeful that tonight he’d make you his, and instead he’s ripping it all away. You chance one final glance at his face, the defeated and empty expression that sits on it. It makes you want to crumble, fall to your knees right there on the snowy concrete and wail until your throat is raw. But you don’t give him the satisfaction, and you slam the door shut instead. The sound of it reverberates in your ears, making your head throb. The little velvet box sits in your coat pocket, your hand clutching it as you walk quickly to your building.

You barely process the fact that you reach your door, that you unlock it and step inside. You only process the hard floor beneath you as you sink down onto it on your knees. Sobs wrack through your body as you hunch over, gasping breaths making your chest shudder. Taking the little necklace box out of your pocket, you stare at it for a moment. Chest heaving, tears streaming down your face, you open the box. You take the necklace out, fumbling with it through your blurred vision. It somehow feels right to put it on, it feels like you need to put it on. It’s the only piece of Eddie that you have.

The pendant rests above your heart, your hand grasping it and clutching it tight. Through all of your anger and your hurt, there’s an unspoken love for Eddie, and there’s a part of you that clings to his gift like it’s a lifeline. Like maybe wearing the necklace could make him change his mind, like you could summon him. And so you sit, still in your coat and your scarf and your hat, curled in on yourself on the floor of your apartment as you cry. Letting yourself feel every ounce of emotion, cursing Eddie’s name for how alive he made you feel and how he’s taking it away in the blink of an eye.

Present Day: December 18th, 1989.

The next morning comes with a blanket of heavy snow, the sun rising over the sleepy streets of Hawkins and making the white powder sparkle. You’d hoped, nearly taken up some faith and prayed that after some sleep you’d feel better. That your problems could be washed away with the morning’s light.

Naïve? Maybe. Probably.

Because as soon as your alarm clock blared in your ears and you opened your tired eyes, you felt honestly worse than you had the night before. You feel as though someone has scooped up your insides, tossing them out and leaving you hollow as you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

The promise of coffee and the obligation of work is what gets you out of bed, your head instantly pounding when you stand up. Your feet slide into your cozy slippers as you trudge down the hallway to your kitchen, getting a pot of coffee started before moving to your living room. You go to pick up the television remote when something shiny catches your eye. The light reflects off of a gold pendant, making it sparkle.

Eddie’s necklace. Your necklace.

At least in your sleep you’d been able to forget that you had taken the necklace off. And in your post-sleep still-tired haze you’d been able to remain unaware, if even for a short while. You stare at it for a moment, tempted to put it back on. But then your puffy, sore eyes from last night’s sob-fest and the snot-covered tissues that litter the floor encourage you to leave it off.

All Eddie’s done in the last year is make you cry, so why should you wear his necklace every day? He doesn’t deserve it.

Or that’s what you try to convince yourself, at least, as you stomp into your room and hide the necklace away in your jewelry box. You can’t stomach looking at it for too long, desperately trying not to cry again. You’re not even sure if you have any tears left, or if the reservoirs have run completely dry. Shaking it off, you return to your living area, clicking the TV on and turning it to the news station.

“We sure got quite a bit of snow last night, and we’re definitely not the only ones!” the weatherman says, too perky for this early in the morning. “I was just recently in Chicago and, let me just say, be thankful that’s not us. Talk about a lot of snow!”

Chicago. Your eye twitches at the mention, and then the TV is promptly clicked off. Way to start your day strong.

You were hoping things would improve when you got to work, as your current job could barely even be called a job. Your front-desk position at the school was on hold for the winter break, but this year Hawkins Middle was sponsoring an ice skating event. A temporary ice rink was installed in downtown Hawkins, and you had offered to help run it. You’d mainly been in charge of skate rentals and serving up hot chocolate or coffee, and it was actually really fun most days. Chief Hopper had even been convinced to dress up as Santa, showing up on Fridays and Saturdays to greet the eager children.

Today, though, of course the world has to test you. You can hear kids shrieking and throwing tantrums before you can even fully see them, and as you walk in to the worker’s trailer you hear Vickie, one of the teachers at the middle school, getting royally bitched at by an impatient mother. Wincing, you put a hand on her shoulder when the woman leaves, signaling that you’re here to take over and rid her of misery.

“I’m warning you,” she says. “It’s crazy out there today.”

To make matters worse, on your drive here the first song you found on the radio was one of Eddie’s favorites. You had changed the station only to find another one of his favorites before turning the damn thing off entirely. Then, on the short walk from your car to the ice rink, you’d been walking behind someone who looked exactly like Eddie. The curly hair, leather jacket, white sneakers… it made your stomach turn. You were more disappointed than you wanted to admit when you saw his face and it, of course, wasn’t actually him.

It’s like Eddie was everywhere you went, an inescapable constant.

You just wanted to not be sad anymore. Your heart was tired of hurting, and you truly felt as though Christmas couldn’t be over and done with fast enough.

You try to put on a chipper attitude as you greet families, politely helping them get their skates and giving the kiddos your best tips and tricks for the ice. There’s a larger crowd than you’d expected today, everyone in town seemingly flocking over to grab some hot cocoa and go skating. You expertly maneuver between skate rentals and drink-making, insisting your other helper keeps an eye on the ice rink itself. It keeps you busy, at least, your brain pleasantly distracted by the chaos. In brief moments of downtime, you watch as wobbly children try to stay upright on the slippery rink, parents following close behind with outstretched hands, ready to steady them.

You’re putting skates back in their respective places when the door to the little trailer opens and shuts, a strawberry blonde head of hair lingering in your peripheral vision.

“Hey, Chrissy!” you greet her, setting out cups for the next round of cocoa orders. “How’s break been going for you?” you ask, smiling at her as she pulls off her earmuffs.

Chrissy was one of the cheer coaches for both the middle and high school, and you’d become friendly with her through school events and the like.

“Oh, you know, it’s going fine I guess….” she says, biting back a smirk as she stretches her arms out, hands splayed flat where she holds them in front of her.

You glance down, instantly clocking the sparkly diamond ring on her left ring finger. Eyes widening, you gasp, taking her perfectly-manicured hand in yours.

“No way. Jason proposed!?” you ask, watching as a pink lipgloss smile breaks out on her face and she nods.

Her and Jason had been the it couple for the majority of your high school career, and they’d still been going strong since graduation a few years back.

“Yes!! Can you believe it!? I had no. idea. he had this planned!” she squeals, her ponytail bobbing as she bounces slightly on her feet.

For some reason, it makes your heart feel like it’s about to crack beneath your rib cage. It shouldn’t, this isn’t about you, but the air is whisked from your lungs regardless.

“I— I’m so happy for you,” you say, stammering a little as you try to feign happiness. “Congratulations.”

“You okay?” she worries, her brows furrowing as she tilts her head at you. Her perky demeanor is gone, concern taking over her features.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, sorry, I just feel a little weird. Haven’t eaten much today,” you lie, forcing a smile on your face. “Seriously, congratulations,” you say again, sighing in relief when she thanks you and walks back out of the trailer, going to check on everyone skating.

You slump against the counter, a lump forming in your throat. As much as you wish it didn’t, this only makes you think of Eddie. Again.

You can’t help but let your mind wander to what could’ve been if Eddie had stayed, if maybe in a couple short years he could be proposing to you. Last December you’d been so hopeful that the two of you would make things official soon, and when Eddie gave you that necklace you were nearly certain of it — for a moment, at least. What if he had been here, in Hawkins, this entire year? Surely you’d be spending Christmas together, decorating together and baking together and simply existing together. It feels like you’ve been robbed. All of your feelings for him have had no place to go, the adoration you boxed away clawing at your heartstrings desperately.

There’s a part of you that’s so envious of what Chrissy has, and there’s another part of you that feels guilty for that. It’s not her fault you’re broken, not her fault you’ve been a shell of your former self for months now. You’re too in your head, and before you know it you’re turning away from the service window, furiously wiping at the tears that have started to fall down your cheeks.

The rest of your day is spent the same way it started — the same way all of your previous days had been spent; thinking about Eddie Munson, and what could have been. If only you could change what happened last Christmas.

taglist: @hellfirenacht @writethrough @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @likedovesinthewnd @tlclick73 @mrsjellymunson @idkitsem

[ladelinee]

As promised, 50s Elvis was the winning choice in the survey for my next fic. So here it is! I hope you enjoy 💕

♡ Summary: Red is introducing his friend Elvis to the group. You're not in the mood for it, so Elvis starts teasing and irritating you. 50elvis!xreader; Fluff.

♡ Word count: 4K

Saturday night

As you reached for your favourite cherry red lipstick, you found yourself looking in the mirror. With a final dusting of powder to complete the look, you smiled at your reflection, pleased with how you looked.

You heard your favorite song, "All I Have To Do Is Dream", playing on the radio. Your friend, Betty, started singing along and fixing her soft blonde hair in the mirror next to you.

Saturday night was always your favorite night of the week. It was the time you would meet up with your group of friends. Before going out, hours would be spent in your room with the girls, getting ready and planning what to wear or do to look great and impress the boys.

"Are we running late?" You asked, still trying to decide between the yellow dress and the pink one.

"Don't worry" Betty replied, applying blush on her cheeks as she spoke. "We won't be late. Red is always the last to arrive, so we have plenty of time."

“By the way, guess what?” Nancy, the group rebel, chimed in as she looked through the row of perfumes on your dresser. “He’s bringing a new friend with him tonight.”

"Oh, great. Can’t wait." You rolled your eyes and forced a sarcastic smile.

Dealing with a new person was the last thing you needed tonight. Having to censor yourself and deal with some idiot ruining the mood was not something you were looking forward to.

“Oh, come on,” Nancy teased. “Don’t be such a downer. Maybe this new guy will actually be cool.”

You rolled your eyes again, scepticism all over your face. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be just as amazing as the last five.”

The diner on the main street was the perfect spot to kick off the night. Pretty much everyone from high school ended up there at some point, grabbing a bite to eat and exchanging the latest town gossip.

As you, Betty, and Nancy got in, your friends, who had already settled in at your usual booth, began clicking their tongues in a playful way, letting you know that you had kept them waiting.

You huffed in response.

"Awesome! We just need Red now. Once he shows up, we can order" Nick exclaimed chuckling, he was the most impatient one in our group. You could even hear his tummy rumbling from your position.

“Oh yeah, he's coming with this new guy. He is in a different class. I have never seen him, but I’m quite excited to have another pal to play football” Arthur, his best friend, added.

As the conversation dragged on, their voices all blended into background noise. You totally lost interest in what they were saying about him. You rolled your eyes, and let out a sigh, thinking to yourself, "Fantastic, the night is starting out real great”

Then the conversation went from gossip about who hooked up at the drive-in to that crazy incident where someone puked in the school's equipment storage. Then, the diner doors swung open, and everyone turned to see who was coming in.

You all watched as Red strolled in like he owned the place, swinging the doors open like some cowboy in a movie. Couldn’t miss that shaggy hair of his, he threw a look back at his buddy as they came in.

You became curious about how his friend looked. Behind Red, you could spot a guy of the same height as him, maybe a little bit taller, looking down while rearranging his slicked-back black hair. Did he have sideburns? The weirdest thing you had ever seen.

Then he glanced around, noticing everyone checking them out. That's when you got the full picture of him. He had on a black lace shirt and beige trousers, he was not exactly built like a tank but definitely in good shape. His face was friendly, with blue eyes, a straight nose leading to plush lips, and a perfect smile.

You watched as both guys walked towards your table. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest. It was obvious that he was the popular type, the kind who gets whatever he wants without a care in the world. You thought to yourself, "Are you kidding me? I can't be friends with a self-centred jerk like him. He's nothing but trouble."

Red greeted everyone and then turned to the new guy, introducing him. "Hey, guys, meet my buddy Elvis" pointing at him.

Elvis jumps in with a friendly smile, "Hi, nice to meet y'all."

Betty and Nancy were totally swooning, practically drooling over him. Pathetic.

You made a conscious decision to keep your mouth shut and avoid sharing any personal information. You knew from experience that people like him would take any juicy tidbit and use it to taunt and bully. Not this time. You'd remain poker-faced, giving him no ammunition to use against you.

Red glanced at your face, noticing your expression of indifference and annoyance. He chuckled slightly and told Elvis, "This is y/n. Don't mind her, she's just having a bad day."

Red gave you a quick knowing look, silently asking, "What's going on? You okay?"

“Well finally we are all together, now we can get some food!” Nick said interrupting. Then the whole group went to the queue to order, leaving you and Elvis alone.

Elvis flashed a friendly smile and took a seat beside you. Sensing your silence and avoiding eye contact, he asked casually “Just not in a real talkative mood tonight?”

“Just tired” You replied. Well, it wasn’t a lie. Just tired…of all the nonsense.

His smile faded slightly at your tone, but he pushed through, even though he could tell you were not being straight with him. “...uh huh...well, then what’s makin’ ya so shy?”

“Not shy! I just don’t want to talk” You insisted, your voice giving away your nerves.

He raised an eyebrow at your defensiveness but kept grinning, staying chill. “Oh yeah? Then why’d you let me sit here?”

You blushed, but then you glanced around, making him realize he had you cornered in the booth. With a hint of resignation, you shrugged and said, “Well, I didn’t exactly have a choice, did I?”

Elvis chuckled softly at your stubbornness. “‘Didn’t have a choice’, huh? Oh, darlin’…” He shook his head, clearly amused by your banter. Leaning back on the seat, he casually dropped his arm across the backrest, as if inviting you to relax. He smirked, seeing right through your tough act.

You sighed, resting your elbows on the table, your hands covering your face. Slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, you muttered, "Stop staring at me. I can feel it."

He grinned widely as he kept staring at you, tilting his head and licking his lips. His eyes slowly travelled down your body and then back up to your face. “Sorry darlin’, but you’re sitting right in my line of vision.”

"Fine then, I'll switch seats," you muttered.

You moved to the other side of the booth and crossed your arms, determined not to look at him. However, whenever you did glance his way, his smile and the dimple on his cheek caught your eye.

Your focus on his smile was interrupted when your friends returned to the table with the food, bringing your long-awaited vanilla milkshake.

"You know, baby... that ain't gonna change much. I still got a perfect view of ya." Elvis replied, he winked and smirked at you once more as he grabbed his burger.

The girls exchanged glances and started chatting and laughing to lighten the mood, discussing weekend plans and some random gossip.

You seemed to paying more attention to them than you are to Elvis, so he is left with only one goal in mind: get your attention. With a playful sparkle in his eye, he grabbed a chip and tossed it at you.

He peeked at you and saw you were still trying to ignore him, so he sighed and got an idea. He took a huge bite of his burger and chewed loudly, making all crazy eating sounds. He grinned when he saw your eyes narrow in annoyance.

“Oh, could you just stop?” You asked, rolling your eyes. The girls were watching the whole situation with wide eyes and trying to hold back their laughter, but it was getting harder by the second. They’ve never seen you so riled up before.

As Elvis munched on his burger like a wild beast, Betty couldn't help but chime in,“Lord, Elvis, could you chew any louder? I don’t think the folks in China heard you.” She teased, trying not to laugh.

He grinned wider, with a playful glint in his eyes “Stop what, darlin’? Can’t a guy enjoy his burger in peace?” He asked innocently, clearly enjoying your reaction to him.

Red chuckled and patted Elvis on the back “Yeah, buddy, you’re really making an entrance today.” He joked, knowing Elvis was annoying you on purpose.

Elvis grinned innocently and swallowed part of his burger with a satisfied sigh. He then grabbed his coke and slowly started sipping through the straw, still watching you waiting for some sort of reaction. The group, including Red, started shaking his head at Elvis’ acts.

Nancy attempted to redirect the conversation. "Elvis, tell us more about yourself!" she asked.

You tried your best to tune out Elvis and ignore the conversation that centered around him, but the group's interest kept drawing your attention back to him.

He glanced at Nancy and grinned, clearly loving the attention. Leaning back, he crossed his arm over his chest while sipping his coke. "Well, what do you ladies wanna know?" He glanced over at you, catching your reaction to Nancy's question.

Nancy looked at the others, then back to Elvis “Just, like, what are you into? Do you have a girlfriend? How old are you?” She asked with a playful tone, giggling with Betty.

Elvis chuckled at her question and looked over at you before replying to Nancy “I’m into a lot of things, music mostly. No, no girlfriend at the moment, not sure what kinda girl could keep up with me.” He answers, his lip curved into a smile knowing you were listening.

"No one, to be honest" You snapped back rudely at his answer.

Elvis raised an eyebrow and grinned, amused by your rudeness “No one, huh? Think I’d be too much for anyone to handle, darlin’?”

The girls smiled, enjoying the banter between you and Elvis. Betty pipes up, giggling “Well, it’s not like anyone’s been able to handle her so far, Elvis.”

Elvis couldn't help but chuckle as he glanced over at you, picking up on your growing grumpiness. "That's true, isn't it, baby?"

You shoot Betty a deadly look. "What the fuck are you doing, Betty?" you thought to yourself. This is exactly why you didn't want to open up about personal stuff. You just knew he was going to make fun of you now. As if it was not already bad enough that you haven't been kissed at this age.

“Yeah! She has never been kissed before, Elvis!” Betty stated amused talking as if she had known him for ages. She didn’t have the right to say that.

Elvis’ eyes widen slightly at her comment, surprised. He looked over at you, taking in your annoyed expression and biting his lip to keep from laughing.

“No way, honey. Really?” He asked, faking disbelief.

Red laughed from the other side of the table, finding amusing to see the interaction. "Yeah, can you believe it?" he said, knowing that Elvis was really enjoying this information.

Elvis paused for a moment, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he looked at you. "No wonder you're the way you are, darlin'. All pent-up frustration, huh?"He teased, knowing it would get a rise out of you.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The thing you'd been trying so hard to avoid had actually happened, and it was all thanks to Betty. You were so mad that you just blurted out, "Can you just shut up?" You could feel your face getting all red from being so frustrated.

Elvis jokingly pretended to zip his lips and leaned in to listen to the lively conversation, but his eyes kept looking at you. When he saw that your milkshake was almost gone, he mischievously shifted closer and checked if anyone was watching. Since everyone was busy talking, he sneakily grabbed your milkshake, took a big sip, and grinned at you.

He winked as he swallowed a mouthful of your milkshake, then smacked his lips together and looked at your shocked face “Hmm, tastes good” He teased, enjoying every second of this.

“What in the hell are you doing???” You asked, getting on your nerves.

Elvis took another sip of your milkshake, making an exaggerated noise of pleasure as he swallowed. He then sets the glass down and he leaned closer to you, his knee brushing up against yours. “Ya mad at me now, baby?” He asked in a low devilish voice.

"What's your deal?" you barked, feeling totally embarrassed in front of everyone by that jerk.

“What ya gonna do, honey? Be mad at me? Well, ya already are” He teased, laughing at your obvious irritation.

Red laughed along with Elvis “Looks like someone's not happy at all” he commented.

Elvis looked at Red and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms “Can't blame me, though. S'not my fault she's such an easy target” He shot a wink at you, enjoying riling you up.

Red chuckled and nudged Elvis' shoulder

"You flirtin' with her or what?" He asked with a smirk.

Elvis cracked up and shook his head "Nah, nothing like that. I'm just havin' a little fun, seeing how much I can piss her off" He looked over at you, noticing your grumpy expression "But seriously, darlin’. You gotta lighten up a bit. You're gonna spoil the night for everyone else."

You didn't know what to say after he spoke, so you just looked down at the floor, trying to figure out what he meant. It seemed like he was intentionally trying to bother you, with no other intentions, and you couldn't shake the feeling that your friends were annoyed with you because you were in a bad mood. As everyone else continued chatting without realizing the tension between you and Elvis, you felt more and more like no one understood you.

Out of nowhere, you stood up from your seat, and rushed towards the diner exit, tears rolling down your face. It felt like all of your emotions came rushing out at once, and you couldn't hold them back any longer. It seemed like everyone was really into Elvis and his charming personality, and it seemed like they preferred him over you.

Elvis and the others watched in surprise as you suddenly ran off.

"Whoa whoa whoa, where's she goin'?" Nick asked, stunned

Elvis pushed the table away to get up, went to the window to see where you went, and said, "I, uh...... I'll go talk to her," Without waiting for a reply, he quickly left the diner and started looking around for you.

Elvis hurried to catch up to you, determined to reach you. He finally saw you walking away, looking really upset, and felt even guiltier with every step.

"Wait up!" he called out, struggling to keep up with your fast pace. When he finally caught up and started walking beside you, he said, “Damn, you're fast, baby" trying to catch his breath. He stared at you, seeing the tears rolling down your face, and asked "Hey... where ya goin’ all angry and upset?"

"Leave me alone!" You managed to cry out, your voice shaking and tears streaming down your face. You couldn't stop the hysterical sobs that wracked your body, making it hard to speak through your hiccups.

Elvis felt bad seeing the anger and tears in your eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling guilty for making you feel this way.

"Nah, can't do that, sweetheart. I gotta talk to ya," he says firmly, walking beside you at your pace.

Elvis stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking down at the ground as he walked. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking up.

“M’sorry, I shouldn't have pushed so much at the diner. I went too far." He looked up at you, his eyes sincere. He took a deep breath and continued, "I was just trying to have some fun, you know, trying to get a reaction out of you. It wasn't right. I didn't mean it. Can ya forgive me?"

Elvis looked at you, seeing the tears still streaming down your face. You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

“Hey, hey, please don't cry anymore. I'm really sorry, darlin’. You didn't deserve that”

He paused for a moment,

“But you're great, ya know? Feisty, stubborn, and damn pretty too” He added.

He looked concerned as he reached into his pocket and took out a tissue. Slowly, he wiped away your tears while gazing into your eyes. "I’ll buy you the whole damn diner, darlin’. Any milkshake flavour, as many as you want. Anything to see you smile”

You and Elvis made eye contact, and you could see regret in his eyes. He took a step back, giving you some room to breathe. Despite any assumptions you had about him, there he was, trying to help you through this tough time. You felt a little relieved, even if you didn't want to admit it. And you had to admit, the way the light was hitting his face was pretty captivating.

He noticed your silent sigh, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth

"Ya won't speak to me? No insults, no smart comeback? Am I that irresistible up close?" He teases, trying to lighten the mood

“Idiot…” you muttered, chuckling.

Elvis smiled widely, feeling a sense of relief to hear you chuckle. He tucks the tissue back into his pocket, still standing close to you.

"Ah, there it is. There's that feisty attitude I know" He teased, his eyes glimmering with mischief

You laughed at his response. “Well, the thing is, I didn’t expect anyone else to come with the group. And I had some personal stuff I didn’t want to share, like the fact that I haven’t been kissed… because I don’t want to hear some stranger making jokes and comments about it. I thought you might be that kind of jerk…” you said.

Elvis's expression softened as you mentioned your situation. He nodded and leaned against a nearby wall, stuffing his hands into his pockets again.

"I get it, darlin’. Sometimes ya just wanna keep things to yourself, especially when ya don't know the people you're with. I ain't tryin' to poke fun at yer troubles"

He looked at you again, his eyes holding a hint of vulnerability “So I hope ya don’t think too badly of me after this, darlin’”

Elvis took a deep breath and looked at you. He stepped closer, and before you knew it, he pulled you into a hug. You were a bit surprised at first, but as he pulled you close, you noticed the faint scent of his hair gel and the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne. He held you tightly, one hand resting on your waist while the other gently patted your back.

He whispered into your ear "M’really sorry, darlin’. For everything." As he hugged you tighter, he kept talking, "I've been focused on you the whole night, and I guess I let my dumb teasing get out of control." He paused, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and you could feel his warm breath against your skin, causing a slight shiver to run down your spine.

Your heart was racing. No one had ever given you such a warm hug. Feeling remorse, you said, "I'm sorry I didn't make you feel welcome either."

Elvis let out a soft chuckle against your neck, his chest vibrating with the sound. He kept his arms wrapped around you, not ready to let go just yet. "I deserved that. I was acting like a real sonofabitch" he said as he pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes.

"But I'm glad we're good now, baby. That's all I care about," he said with a tender smile, pinching your cheek.

He looked down at your face and saw the hint of a blush on your cheeks. His grin grew wider, and he couldn't resist teasing you a little more. "What's this? Is the tough girl feeling a bit flustered?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You wish!!!” You let out, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Elvis laughed at your fast denial and crossed his arms "Aw, come on. You’re terrible at hiding it, darlin’."

He took a step closer, a smirk on his lips "I can practically hear your heart racing" he growled.

Elvis locked his piercing blue eyes onto your lips, drawing closer until his chest almost touched yours. Your heart quickened as you felt his nearness, his gaze fixed on your lips, inching closer to your face.

You closed your eyes, heart racing, waiting for a kiss. Your first kiss. Seconds ticked by, but nothing happened. Elvis didn't close the gap between you both. Instead, he just grinned wider, teasing you with that mischievous smile, inches away from your face, clearly enjoying your anticipation.

He left you staying like that for a second, then spoke, his voice low and amused “I knew it. You were hoping for a kiss, weren’t ya?”

"OH MY GOD, I JUST HATE YOU SO MUCH!!" Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, betraying your inner agitation.

Elvis bursted out laughing, bending over and clutching his stomach. Your annoyed look and outburst just made him laugh even harder.

"Oh, I love it when you get all riled up like that!" He managed to say between laughs.

You kept stomping away from Elvis, totally ticked off about what went down.

Elvis quickly got himself together, his laughter fading into a wide grin as he noticed your embarrassed expression. He hurried after you, catching up in just a few strides.

"Oh, don’t be mad now, darlin’. I was just having a bit of fun. Can't blame me for wanting to see your cute, flustered face"

As you kept walking, still grumbling about how much you ‘hate him’, Elvis walked beside you, his smile never leaving his lips. He listened to your muttered complaints, and suddenly his eyes sparkled with mischief.

Out of nowhere, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him. Before you had a chance to protest, he pressed his lips against yours in a swift, unexpected kiss.

The unexpected kiss left you speechless, your frustrated words stuck in your throat. Elvis enjoyed the sensation of your lips on his for a moment, then pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes.

"You were saying something about hating me, baby?" He smirked, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction.

Your heart was racing, partly from surprise and partly from the lingering feeling of his kiss, but you attempted to stay composed. You shot him a glare, though there's no real anger in your eyes—just a touch of confusion.

Finally, you found your voice “You…..you idiot. Why’d you go and do that?”

Elvis chuckled, his hand still at your waist, holding you steady “Couldn’t help myself, darlin’. You looked too cute when you were all mad at me. I had to do something to shut you up”

He smiled, pulling you closer to him “Besides, you clearly enjoyed it” He teased, winking at you.

Your cheeks kept blushing, you didn't want to admit that you loved it. So, you gave him a little slap on his arm.

Elvis playfully gasped and rubbed his arm where you smacked him, still grinning. “Ouch! Feisty as always, baby” he teased, chuckling as he guided you back towards the diner.

“Alright, I guess I had that coming. But now, here’s the tough part. Chocolate, peanut butter, vanilla, or strawberry milkshake?” Elvis asked, raising his eyebrows up and down. God, he was really set on treating you to the whole diner, just like he promised.

“What about peanut butter?” You chuckled, feeling butterflies in your stomach watching Elvis holding your hand.

“Atta girl, you sure have a good taste, baby.”

🍨

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eleven: i am always running back to you | read chapter ten

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.7k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: SO SORRY.... it was the horrors (midterms). hope this chapter makes up for it because boy it is a lot of fun

The rest of the evening passes slowly.

It does nothing for your nerves, truthfully, but you keep yourself preoccupied with Wade. He crawls now and that leaves him wanting to explore every space possible. So, while Wally runs out for dinner and Linda wraps up a meeting with her editor, you watch over him and make sure he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.

Dinner is deep-dish pizza—directly from Chicago. It’s all very indulgent, the way Wally can do things like that; he spoils you in that regard and you tell him as much as you wash dishes and he puts them away.

“Nah, it’s nothing,” he says, shooting you a small smile. “Besides, it’s for me, too.”

And you can tell that’s true by the four empty boxes of pizza that he ate, with two for you and Linda. 

But still. When he leaves…

It’s not just that that you’re going to miss. With or without the speed, you’re going to miss him. Him, Linda, and little Wade.

Despite not saying that—because you don’t want to be a downer, because their home is in Keystone City, not here, and you don’t want to be selfish like that—he senses the shift in your mood.

“You know,” he starts, “me and Lin were thinking…”

“That’s never good.”

He nudges you gently, grinning. You shake your head, smiling, too. You pass him a freshly-washed plate and he dries it. 

“Well, wait until you hear what we were thinking about.”

“What?”

“We think you should visit us every now and then.”

The thought that they want you around is warming, as usual. But…

“I mean, I would love to, Wally, but I can’t really afford that… Maybe, after I see how everything adds up during the fall, I can come for the holidays or something. But…”

He shakes his head. “Come on, kiddo. You think we’d say that and leave it up to you?”

“I don’t expect—”

“I know. But you should. We want to do whatever we can to see you. You aren’t the only one that’s going to miss something when we leave, you know. That’s why we’re doing this. Besides,” he grins at you, lightening up. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I can get you to Keystone in under a minute right now.”

Considering that Linda has told you that his speed is efficient but leaves one with a horrible bout of nausea and vertigo—at least in the beginning; she’s barely affected these days—you feel some mild apprehension.

But those things are temporary. You can withstand that, if only to see them again.

“Or,” he goes on, “we can fly you out, but that would honestly be pretty cumbersome and would also take too long.”

“It’s a plane, Wally. That is the fastest form of transportation we have in this country.”

He sniffs. “I’m the fastest form of transportation we have in this country. In the world! One of them, anyway.”

“Well, that’s how we normal human beings function. Not everyone can run faster than the speed of light.” 

“Not everyone should,” he agrees. “I’d lose my appeal. That would suck.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So, is that a yes or—?”

“Alright,” you relent, smiling. “How often are we talking?”

He smiles a tad bashfully. “Once or twice a month? You can come on the weekends… Just—you know. I know you’re gonna be busy with classes but…”

“It sounds like I should be getting a nice break every month if we do that. I mean, I can’t promise I won’t have work—”

“Just as long as you’re around, kid. That’s all we want.”

Your face warms at the earnestness in his words, embarrassed, though you know you really shouldn’t be. “Wally.”

“Hey, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been in this game too long to try and dance around feelings. Hopefully your boy will learn that, too.”

“You aren’t wrong,” you mutter, shutting off the water and drying your hands, making a mental reminder to put on some lotion before they get annoyingly dry from the hot water and dish soap. “I’m just not… used to that.”

He shrugs, tossing his dish towel over his shoulder. “Like I said. In a world like ours… it’s important.”

You don’t disagree. But you can’t rail too hard on Tim. Questionable decisions regarding his feelings aside, the both of you only came to your senses after he had a close-call today. What does that say about you, that he has to nearly die for you to realize you need to see him again? Need to clear the air? 

It’s human, you think. So very terribly human of you.

It’s not like you’re unappreciative of him in your life but… you know this dance and song. You only realize what you have when you lose it. Look at your parents. You’ve slipped right now but you’ll fix it. You’ll make sure he knows how much he means to you.

But more importantly, right now…

“You guys… mean a lot to me, too.” You turn, seeing Linda pause near the island, and meet her brown eyes and even though it makes your face hot and the words get stuck in your throat, you force them out, underpinned with what you hope they can tell is sincerity. “You do. So much.”

Your throat tightens and you duck your head as your eyes burn. 

Hard to quantify. Hard to put a label on what they mean to you.

But you know that much. That they mean the world to you. 

Warm, strong arms come around you, squeezing you tight. You sniffle when you feel Linda come up behind you, squeezing you, too.

It’s an emotional day, you decide. For all of you. 

So, you take a long shower to try and pull yourself together, then head to bed, bidding Wally and Linda goodnight.

You don’t intend to fall asleep when you crawl into your bed. It’s better to stay up, to wait for Tim to get here. But the day’s events start weighing down on you as you curl up beneath the blankets.

You try valiantly to stay awake by scrolling on your phone but it’s a Sisyphean task to do so. As your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you know it will be a task that you fail as you stop fighting and give in to sleep.

It’s only the vibration of your phone that rouses you. 

Groping for it, the display is obscenely bright in the darkness of your room. But the text waiting for you is unmistakable, impossible to miss.

i’m here

Suddenly recalling what you and Tim had agreed upon, you shoot up in bed, ignoring the head rush the action gives you. 

The window that leads out to the fire escape is right next to your bed, covered by curtains. You toss your phone aside, rolling out of the warm cocoon of blankets; the AC in this place works well, a little too well, you think groggily as your bare feet connect with cold wood floors. 

You shove aside the curtains and though you know who is waiting for you, that it is Tim, just Tim, your best friend, the still-not-fully-awake part of you clenches up in fear, thinking it might be Batman that is moving in the shadows, only barely illuminated by the full moon. But you know better than that.

It helps that your eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, recognizing the figure crouched in your fire escape. Dressed in… oddly enough, sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. Completed with a plain black domino mask—not the usual one he wears, more akin to Robin, save for the color—that obscures the blue eyes you know and love.

You reach for the window. Well-oiled and taken care of by the owners, it is virtually silent as it slides open. 

Muggy July heat rushes in, chasing away the cold.

Without the window and with your vision quickly clearing from bleariness, you can really take him in. The tension in his body, the way a breeze ruffles through dark hair, the twitch of his hands to you before they clench into fists. Waiting. 

For you. 

Your throat thickens painfully when your eyes snag on the white gauze taped to the left side of his neck. 

Just a graze, Steph told you. But he lost a bit of blood anyway and his neck… if it had been the right side, would he not be here right now? Maybe it doesn’t matter. It’s his neck, there are so many important arteries running through there. 

If anything else had happened, if he’d moved even a little bit, he wouldn’t be here.

That realization, coupled with the overwhelming emotions at seeing him again since everything, pushes you over the edge.

Your eyes burn with tears. You reach forward, ignoring the soreness in your belly, one hand grabbing his wrist and tugging him right into the circle of your arms. 

That breaks the stalemate. He goes quickly, arms sliding around you as the first of your tears start sliding down your cheeks.

“Tim…”

He holds you tighter, impossibly warm, letting out a shuddery breath and whispering your name, too, everything inside you shivering at the sound, at the warmth that wraps up the syllables of your name. 

“I’m okay,” he breathes. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“You were shot.”

An exhale of a laugh. It sounds shaky with emotion.

“Technically, I was grazed.”

“Tim.”

He presses his nose to your hair, hand stroking up your back.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, lips brushing your forehead. “I wasn’t going to die before I got to see you. No way.”

You sniffle. The two of you are quiet, speaking lowly, but you’re suddenly too aware of the other window on the fire escape, the one for Linda and Wally’s room. You don’t want to wake them—or god forbid, Wade—so you reluctantly extract yourself from his arms, tugging him again.

He follows easily, sliding through the window with a grace you aren’t used to. He shuts the window silently behind him, banishing the muggy air that had leaked inside. You wipe away your tears, attempting to piece yourself together. 

As he turns back to you, hesitantly now, the air conditioner clicks on, and a second later, cold air starts blowing into your room. It should help cover your voices a little bit.

For a moment, it is silent. 

Tim shifts on his feet across from you. The domino mask renders him impervious. Impossible to read without seeing his eyes.

But not totally impossible. The way he bites his lip doesn’t just draw your attention to his mouth, tempting, traitorous thoughts briefly crossing your mind, but it also clues you into his nervous state. 

“I’m sorry.”

He speaks first, blurting the words out, seeming almost surprised at the way they escaped him before he decides to go with it, doubling down on it.

Taking a deep breath, he looks at you, whispering your name. “I’m sorry. For lying to you. For coming to you as Red Robin instead of myself. For everything. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know.”

You were in that position, too. You didn’t fuck it up this badly but… you each had your parts to play. No one is blameless here.

“I just,” he stops, looking away, hands clenching at his sides. “I want to be friends. If anything else. I want that.”

If anything else.

You understand what he is saying here.

He isn’t here under any pretenses. Isn’t expecting you to take him in with open arms. Would be fine as friends.

Well, you don’t want that.

“Tim.” 

He looks at you. You extend a hand. Waiting. Not demanding.

Slowly, he comes to you. Palm sliding against yours. Warm and a little clammy, calloused but still soft. 

A few inches of space separate you when he stops. 

This close, you can feel the heat of him. Smell his shampoo, soft and fragrant. Eucalyptus. 

You squeeze his hand once then let go. 

He and Red Robin are two sides of the same coin. There is no Tim Drake without Red Robin, you think. Not right now. 

Maybe it’ll change, down the line. One part of you selfishly hopes so.

You’ll always want him. But as Red Robin, the risk of losing him triples and you are greedy enough to want to mitigate it. The same with Steph. Even with Wally, who is considerably more durable. All of them, duty-bound, honor-bound. You cannot ask that of them. 

Right now, though, you think you can make that demand. At least temporarily.

You reach for him. Pausing when your hands near his face. But he doesn’t move. Just looks down at you and you wonder if he can hear your heart, with how hard, how loudly, it pounds in your chest.

You have to be certain.

So, when your fingers finally touch the smooth material of the mask, before trying to lift it, you ask, in a whisper, “Can I?”

“Yes,” he breathes, some emotion you don’t know underlying his voice, one that makes your face warm and your heart skip a beat.

Your fingers find the edge, slowly, gently peeling it up. It peels and peels and peels until finally, it detaches into your hands. Almost flimsy now but with a certain weight. 

That’s not what retains your attention, though.

It’s him. It’s always him.

Tim’s eyes are closed, the tiniest of wrinkles found between his brows.

You imagine what it must be like to him. Letting you do that. Peel back the final layer of him once and for all. Letting you see him. Tim. Your Tim.

Keeping the domino mask loosely grasped in one hand, your other reaches for him, your thumb finding the wrinkle between his brows. It smooths out instantly at your touch and his eyes flutter open.

There they are.

It’s a shade of blue that haunts your dreams most nights.

Usually a lighter, softer color in the light, something like cornflowers, but right now, they’re midnight sky blue, looking at you with a heavy kind of affection, warm and unbridled. 

Your hand settles on his cheek. He leans into the touch. Your thumb strokes over the sensitive skin under his eye. Where dark circles mar the skin, exhaustion finally clear in his face.

You smile sadly. “You look tired, Timmy.”

“Last couple weeks,” he swallows, “have been… rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

He smiles. It’s a small thing but no less beautiful to your eyes. 

Then he sobers up, gazing at you, pained. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“I was an idiot.”

“I know.” You take a deep breath. “We both were.”

He opens his mouth to protest but you speak before he can. 

“It’s true. You know that. We didn’t handle this like we should but it’s… it’s in the past. We can’t change it. We just have to move forward.”

A slow nod, then his eyes flicker to your hand, still between you two, still holding onto the domino mask. He takes it from you. 

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not for him to toss it away, landing somewhere in the darkness, a near silent sound. 

“Tim—“

“It’ll never come between us again,” he whispers and your breath catches at his words; his hands find yours, pulling the one on his cheek into his own, squeezing. “I promise.”

You take a second to compose yourself, letting out a slow breath.

“I believe you,” you finally say. “And… no more lies. Please. Tell me the truth. The whole truth. I want to be there for you, for all of it.”

“It’s going to hurt.” 

Not a protest. Just a statement. A warning. 

“So, it’s even more important for me to be there.”

He swallows, eyes searching yours. “Are you… are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“So… we’re okay?”

“No.”

His face falls. “Whatever it is… I’ll make it up to you. I swear. Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

“You have me,” he promises. 

“Not like that.”

He stiffens up, breath catching as he understands what you mean. He looks down at you, shock clear. Understanding but not truly believing. That won’t do.

“I love you, Tim. Not just as a friend but…”

You’ve said it to them both. I love you. And this ‘I love you’ isn’t better than the one you tell Steph, than the one you told him for the first time, back when your feelings were still strictly platonic. It doesn’t mean something more, something deeper, something elevated just because it’s romantic. But it’s different. In what you want. In what you long for. 

He whispers your name. 

You let out a slow breath. “And if you want that, too, then…”

“Of course I do,” he breathes, letting go of your hands to cup your face, bringing you closer. “Of course I do. There’s nothing else, no one else, I want. I just… I never wanted to assume.”

“I know.”

“But if you’re on board then… then we can try it out.”

It feels more like ‘trying it out,’ though. Despite the uncertainty, the whirlwind of emotions, everything that has happened, finally talking it out, finally laying everything out on the table… you’ve found solid ground. A foundation you can build upon. 

It is no mere crush. No simple infatuation.

You are in love with Tim Drake. Plain and simple.

And he is in love with you, too.

You close your eyes, fingers curling around his wrists. After a beat, he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you, too, you know,” he whispers. “I have for a long time.”

Your face is hot, flushed with heat, your heart pounding. You feel so light, like you might fall up, untethered by gravity and floaty from the cotton candy-sweet warmth unspooling in your chest, clogging your veins and the arteries of your heart. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go. 

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

He kisses you.

Gently at first, tenderly, lips warm, soft, tasting faintly of spearmint. You feel like you might melt into a puddle of goo at it, at knowing it’s Tim who is kissing you so sweetly, making your knees feel a little weak.

You shuffle closer. He inhales sharply at you pressing into his space, curling around you to close the final bits of distance. It turns the kiss a little fevered, a little hungry, a little desperate.

You’ve missed him so much. You can’t stop yourself from whispering that, pulling away to do so.

He shudders at your words, lips pressing to your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, and you open yourself up to him, too willing, too happy to let him have you like this.

He keeps saying it. Whatever you want. But he can have whatever he wants from you, too. Anything. Everything.

“I love you,” he breathes against your neck and your breath catches at the reverence in his voice. “Can you—can you say it again?”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper and it pulls another shiver from him, lips pressing to your fluttering pulse and your knees really feel like they might give out. 

Your fingers grasp the material of his jacket, tugging, and he brings his lips back to yours, giving you a mind-numbing, synapse-slowing kiss. 

You separate eventually, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath.

“Will you stay?” you ask softly.

“I’ll stay,” he promises, leaning back to press a heartachingly tender kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, holding onto him.

After a moment, he pulls away, shedding his jacket, draping it over the footboard. You close the curtains over your window, then crawl into bed. When Tim comes over, he tries to push you over. Not hard. A gentle—persistent—nudge to your shoulder, keeping in mind your injury, though you should tell him that it’s healing much better at nearly three weeks since it happened. Enough so that Steph said she could see about Crystal coming over to take the stitches out, just to avoid waiting at the hospital, and the bill, too. 

“Oh, hey—”

“Let me sleep there,” he urges. “I feel better if you’re furthest from the window.”

“Hero types, I swear.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he leans down and scoops you into his arms. You yelp and he shushes you. You can’t stop your giggles as he unceremoniously drops you on the other side of the bed, the one closest to the door. He crawls in after you.

“You’re going to wake them up,” he whispers but he’s grinning, too, as he slides under the covers, laying on his side.

“Who’s fault is that?” you shoot back. “Just ‘cause you and your savior complex need to be by the window—”

He muffles his snickers into the pillow, eyes closed, lips spread in a grin. Your chest warms and you wiggle closer to him. 

Tim lifts an arm so you can settle against his side. Wary of the gauze on the hollow of his throat, you settle for tucking your head underneath his chin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He strokes a hand down your back, a warm brand between your shoulder blades. Sleep isn’t far off your conscience, right at the edges of it, and with the warmth of his body and the reassurance of his embrace, you’re moving fast to it.

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll… you’ll be here in the morning, right?”

His arm tightens around you. You feel him press a kiss to your hair.

“I’ll be here. I promise.”

And he is. 

When you rouse an indeterminate amount of time later, awakened by the sounds of activity outside your door—Wade’s high-pitched giggles, Wally’s low murmurs to him as he feeds him breakfast, the water running in the pipes as Linda uses the bathroom—Tim is still there. With you.

Deep in sleep, still, even with the slivers of light that come in from your window and the noises coming in from outside. Probably the repercussions of his ‘rough couple weeks.’ It’s quite similar with you, if you’re being honest. Besides, you hardly mind, basking in the feel of your legs tangled together underneath the blankets, the heavy but reassuring weight of his arm around you.

You manage to pull away a little bit to look at him, blinking out the bleariness in your eyes as you rest your head on the pillow, his face a couple inches from yours. Eyes shut, dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, breathing soft and slow. His hair is a mess, some parts of it flat from the pillow and sticking up in other areas. You spy a few creases from the pillow on his cheek, too. But even with that, he is still so beautiful to you.

You sigh, snuggling closer to him, shifting so you can run your fingers through his hair, your eyes falling shut again. You can stand to sleep a little while longer.

He lets out a soft, contented sigh as your fingers glide through his hair, gently taking out tangles as you go. 

You pull away after a moment, feeling sleep lapping at your senses again. 

You doze for a little while, rousing again to more noise from outside. The sound of the TV. Wally and Linda murmuring to each other. Wade giggling. 

Tim shifts, groaning quietly. The sound, rough with sleep, makes something inside you clench, sparks of heat waking you up more fully so you can watch him wake up, too.

He rolls onto his back, stretching, then sagging into the mattress. You stay curled up on your side, your calf thrown over his, watching him wake up with a small smile on your lips that you know must be horribly lovesick.

Finally, he turns to look at you, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi.”

He gives you a sleepy smile. “Hi. Watching me sleep? Weirdo.”

He still has pillow creases on his face. You reach up to trace them.

“Well, you like this weirdo.”

“I love this weirdo,” he corrects. “Guess it’s fair, considering my night job.”

“Right. Watching you sleep—which I wasn’t, by the way, I was just waiting for you to wake up—”

“Sounds an awful lot like watching me sleep—”

You grin and pinch his cheek. He grunts, halfheartedly batting your hand away and taking it in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Anyway. That’s not that big of an offense compared to, oh, I don’t know, dressing up and fighting crime each night.”

“Think that’s part of the whole ‘we love each other thing,’” he teases.

You smile. “I guess so.”

“So, then…” His eyes stray from your face, to something else, nerves clear as day; too early in the morning for him to make a solid attempt at hiding them from you and well. You know him. For better and for worse.

“Mmhm?”

“I guess I should take you on a date.”

“You guess?”

He blushes, red settling high in his cheeks in a way that is… decidedly tempting. “I mean I should. If—if you want to, of course.”

“I didn’t kiss you just for kicks, you know.”

“I sure hope not,” he agrees, looking back at you, face softening. “Will you, then?”

“Of course, Timmy.”

“And maybe…” He turns, reaching for you. You go easily, your fingers still tracing the pillow creases on his cheek. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders as he turns onto his side. In the warm light of the morning, his eyes are a softer shade of blue, the one you know and love. 

“Maybe…?”

“Maybe… you’ll give me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

Oh, geez.

Your face flares with heat, heart skipping a beat.

“You cornball.”

“You love it.”

Your palm finally settles on his cheek—hot to the touch, too, flush still lingering behind. You lean forward to press your lips to his forehead. He lets out a shuddery breath, arm tightening around you briefly.

“Yes, Tim,” you murmur against his skin. “I would be happy to.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, but it doesn’t like he’s thanking you for agreeing to it—at least, not just that. 

Maybe for everything. 

But— “You don’t have to thank me. It’s not… I love you. That’s all there is and that’s all there ever will be.”

You pull back, thumb stroking over his cheek. He leans forward, lips pressing gently to your cheek. Your fingers find their way into his hair, sighing contentedly as he kisses down to your jaw. 

You get so caught up in that, the knock on your door scares the shit out of you both.

Wally calls out your name. “You up, kiddo? Lin’s makin’ eggs and rice.”

Tim pulls away quickly and you sit up, your face hot.

“I’ll, um, be out in a few.” Your voice is steady, thankfully, but you can’t say much about your pulse, your heart beating out of your chest. Tim is sitting up, too, looking around the room—presumably for the mask he discarded last night. 

“Okay,” Wally says. “Will Tim be joining us?”

You both freeze. 

You should’ve known better, really. Wally’s been doing this for a long time. Nothing much will slip by him. Not unless he lets it. 

Tim turns an impressive shade of red. Tempting, like it always is, but mostly, you just feel like a teenager caught red-handed with her boyfriend.

…Which isn’t too incorrect of a description.

You look at him, lost. 

He clears his throat, raising his voice to respond. “I—uh, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” Wally responds cheerfully. “Hope you aren’t allergic to sesame because I don’t care and I’m not going out to get something different for you.”

“Wally!”

Tim smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not allergic.”

“Too bad,” he says. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Footsteps leave. Wally hums to himself loudly, happily. 

You and Tim look at each other for a second before a giggle escapes you. Then another. He joins you in the next second, until you two are laughing loudly, listing into each other and flopping onto the bed.

In the kitchen, even from here, you can hear Wally and Linda laughing, too.

You grin breathlessly, looking at Tim’s smiling face, and decide the embarrassment of getting caught out is worth it, if you get to have this. All of them. 

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[fetishfairytales2]

Happy Birthday Sissy! Pt. 4

Heather and Brandon are original characters created by @wittlesissyb4by in his fantastic series “Besties”, which this blog expands on. Please support him through his Tumblr and his SubscribeStar. ——————————————

The party was bumping by the time our first guests showed up. Lyndsey and Kylie were gossiping like old friends by the pool, probably plotting ways to humiliate poor little Brandi. And I was busy telling Kelsey, Rachel, and Maddie the story of the first time I let Connor fuck me while Brandi was forced to watch from the foot of the bed. 

“I swear to God,” I laughed, “she was fucking crying the whole time!” The sun was shining, the drinks were flowing, and to any unsuspecting bystander, it may have seemed like a normal pool party - except for the fact that there was a grown man prancing around in a frilly pink dress and an absurd amount of penis-themed decorations. Lyndsey did great with the decor. It was all pink and dicks. It looked like she had reused old bachelorette party decorations. Such a classy sissy birthday. 

Our boyfriends were all huddled together, drinking beer and probably boasting about the amount of sex they were promised for showing up and not asking too many questions.  They didn't seem to mind their girlfriends parading around half-naked in front of Brandi. It's funny how much of a threat someone isn't when they're wearing a frilly dress and a diaper! Poor Brandi, I don't think any of these alphas were worried about losing the girlfriends today.

"Hey Connor, Shawn, come here!" I called out, waving them over. Rolling their eyes, they made their way across the back yard. Shawn was Lyndsey’s long time boyfriend. The five of us had all known each other forever. But he, just like Connor, was a victim of Brandon’s bullying in school. "Would you mind turning Brandi towards the sun for us?" I pouted, making sure to push the girls up in my bikini top and flashing a smile. “Yeah,” Lyndsey giggled from the pool, “the poor girl isn’t getting enough color today. You big strong boys should help her out! She looks a little pale!” With my helpless sissy bound at the wrists and ankles in her oversized stroller, she was powerless to stop her latest humiliation.

The two hunks lifted her, stroller and all, in the air and faced her toward the pool. The little sissy would surely suffer in her heavy lace and polyester party dress, not to mention the inevitable diaper rash. Too bad, some sissies just have bad luck! Maddie and I sat on either side of the stroller, playfully dipping our toes in the pool, and giving Brandi innocent smiles. "Hello girly!" Maddie laughed, playfully poking her on the nose. Brandi could only grunt behind the pacifier gag. "Mommy and Aunt Maddie are ready to have some fun!" 

"Aww, don't be such a downer Miss Grumpy," Lyndsey teased, splashing Brandi from the pool. "It's your first sissy birthday and you've got gorgeous women all around you. What more could you want?" I winked and nodded at my friends - God, they were the best. Maddie and I snuggled closer in the stroller while Kylie and Lyndsey leaned over the pool, giving Brandi a perfect view of their cleavage. “What a fucking loser!” Shawn laughed. “You’re fucking drooling over her tits! Dude, she’s never going to fuck you! Later, when I’m fucking her though? I’ll put my massive cock in between those tits, just for you!” Lyndsey winked up at her boyfriend; “mmm, sounds like fun!”

Connor shook his head; “He was always such an asshole. Now he’s a fucking loser. Who the hell would let this happen to him?” The water works were already starting and I wanted to be the one that made Brandi cry! “Aww,” I teased my cuckold, “did the big mean men make sissy cry? They are just having a little fun sissy, they didn’t mean to hurt your feelings!” I smiled up at Connor; “thank you Daddy for helping your sweet sissy! I’ll make sure to thank you tonight.” The boys shrugged and headed back; “oh and boys? There’s three more cases of beer in the fridge, help yourself!” I winked at Lyndsey; “nice and drunk,” she mouthed quietly. I nodded and crossed my fingers.

"Oops!" giggled Kylie as she pulled her wet top down, flashing Brandi not at all subtly, "my silly bikini." She moaned like she was faking an orgasm, making us all giggle; "I'm just so wet!" I could hear muffled groans of what could only be a itsy bitsy sissy clitty trying to burst out of a spiked chastity cage. I playfully traced my nails along Brandi's exposed inner thigh, causing her to jump. "Oops!" I taunted with a smirk, sticking my tongue out. "My bad, baby. My hand slipped." 

Maddie got up and began clumsily adjusting Brandi's collar, leaving the gagged sweetheart confused. As Maddie took her time, her movements brought her closer and closer to the stroller. Much to Brandi's dismay, this meant my sister's Double Ds were pressed against her face. Maddie teasedly stuck her tongue out at me as I counted silently on my fingers. "Just a sec, girly!" she exclaimed dramatically. "I'm just trying to... it looks like something is caught. If I just..." Without a word, I started rubbing Brandi's chastity cage through her diaper while Maddie rocked back and forth, nearly motorboating the poor trapped sissy. 

"It's been three whole months," I whispered in Brandi's ear, “since you made cummies. And something tells me that’s not what you’re getting for her birthday…” As I continued to tease the birthday girl’s caged cock, Maddie leaned back and grinned at our plaything triumphantly. "Got it!" Brandi must have realized by now she was in for some unwanted birthday "surprises" from us girls. "Oh, no, no!" I chuckled as I caught her trying to squirm away. "Stay put!" I firmly slapped her face.

Lyndsey grinned as she leaned on the edge of the pool, her eyes fixed on the helpless loser in front of her. "You want to know something out Brandi?" she said, her tone playful. "While I was watching her that one time, I found out something interesting about her..." She smirked. "Oh really? Do tell, babes," I giggled, playing along with her. "Turns out, Brandi is a huge fan of ass," Lyndsey said, a wicked look in her eye. "I swear, you should have seen how big the pile of loser goo was that she made! It was when she watched that video of you getting fucked from behind by Connor." 

Maddie laughed, "I've known this pathetic loser, for years and, trust me, she’s definitely more into boobs." We all turned to look at Brandi, waiting for her answer. "Well?" I prodded, "Don't make us wait! What gets your sissy stick harder?" But Brandi could only glance between us and try to speak through the four-inch cock filling her mouth.

"Spill it, girl!" Kylie exclaimed with a giggle, turning around and glancing over her shoulder, proudly flaunting her curvy backside in a tight bikini. "Whatcha think?" she asked, pulling her bikini further up her ass. "Is it this amazing booty?" Lyndsey chimed in, giving a spank. "Don't you just wish you could make this slut get down on her knees and shake that ass for you, Brandi?" Lyndsey pulled on Kylie's hair and humped her. "Too bad you'll never get a chance to do that to a woman again," Maddie whispered in Brandi's ear, watching as she squirmed in her chastity cage. "Oh Brandon!" Kylie moaned, "you sexy stud! My ass is completely yours, don't you just love it?"

The spikes were probably hurting Brandi's cock by now because tears were rolling down her cheeks and her mascara was smudged. "Come on girls!" I chuckled. "You know the poor thing is stuck with such a tiny, pathetic penis. And Maddie is right! Brandi can't resist a good pair of tits." On cue, Maddie got up and spread out a towel. "It's really a shame," she sighed as she untied her top and laid down to tan, and tease the sissy. "All these hot girls around and all you can do is look." 

Kylie and Lyndsey followed Maddie's lead and removed their bikini tops before laying down topless for Brandi to ogle at helplessly. I quickly checked the time on my watch - only 1 hour until the other guests arrived, which meant 30 minutes to get the guys drunk enough for Brandi's special celebration. "Hey honey?" Lyndsey called out to Shawn, "would you ever let Brandi give you a blowjob?" The guys all laughed and nodded in agreement with Shawn’s drunken and slurred response; "a blowjob is a blowjob!" Lyndsey and I shared a knowing smile. Perfect...

[dreamcatcher92]

Secret Santa

Summary: You start a new job in the big city. You’ve been quite the loner your entire life, but Billy Russo seems to be able to bring you out of that shell of yours.

Warnings: Language, mentions of alcohol, 18+, sexual content.

This is my first one shot, so I hope you guys like it! 🙂 Happy Holidays! 

And as always, thank you all so much for the likes and support!!

Christmas was fast approaching, and you just weren’t in the holiday spirit. You were still new to city life since you were used to living in a small rural town in Kentucky and stuck to your daily routine of going to work, then going straight home.  You had just started your secretary job at ANVIL, and just wanted to focus on doing your job well. 

Chloe and Mackenzie, your two new friends from work, had other ideas for you this evening though. Tonight was the company Christmas party, and the girls begged and begged for you to join them tonight until finally, you caved and agreed to go for a couple of hours. 

“I promise you’ll have fun! Just wear something cute and meet us in the lobby around seven!” Chloe said excitedly as she smiled from ear to ear. 

After the work day was over, you rushed home to figure out what to wear tonight. Chloe and Mackenzie had both shown you pictures of the dresses they planned on wearing, so you knew that you needed to find the best dress you own. You were extremely nervous about going out tonight, but felt like maybe with your friends there with you, it wouldn’t be so bad.

An hour had passed and now you only had about 45 minutes left to finish getting ready and make your way to the high-end hotel that was rented out for the evening's event. You had settled on a knee length gold sequin dress that you wore to a cousin’s wedding once. Paired with your outfit, you chose to wear a pair of red heels and put just a tiny bit of makeup on. 

All of a sudden as you were finishing the final touches on your hair, your phone began to ding.

Chloe: Guys, I am sooooo excited for tonight! Maybe Xander will finally give me a chance!

Mackenzie: Chlo….Xander is such a player! You deserve way better!!

Chloe: Ugh! Don’t be such a downer! 

Chloe: Y/n you ready for tonight!?

Y/n: I think so! I’m almost done getting ready and then I’ll be heading to the venue. Seven still right?

Mackenzie: Yep!

Chloe: Yesss! See you both soon!

You arrived about five minutes early to the party and were relieved when you turned around to look out the door to see Chloe and Mackenzie walking in together to meet you. They greeted you with a hug and the three of you made your way upstairs to the party. 

There were so many people. It made you feel a bit uncomfortable, but knowing that your new friends were close by and had your back if needed made you feel a bit better. You looked around to see who all came and recognized a few others from the same floor you work on. You hadn’t met too many people because you’ve only worked at ANVIL for about three months. 

The girls decided to go talk to a few of their other friends, leaving you alone on the floor. So, you decided to go to the bar and grab a cocktail. After finally getting the bartender's attention, you ordered yourself a whiskey sour and walked out onto the balcony to look at the view of the city and get some fresh air. 

“Mind if I join you?” a deep voice says from behind you making you jump slightly.

You turn to see a tall, sexy, brown haired, and dark eyed man speaking to you, “Um, sure!”

The man walks up and stands beside you. You both gaze across the night sky taking in the beautiful lights of the city and feeling the brisk air blow on your faces.You feel a huge knot in your throat and your stomach is filled with butterflies. You think this man could very well be the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Is he really talking to me? Keep it together!

“Kinda chilly out to be standing outside by yourself.” he says looking down at you with a grin and a whiskey in his hand.

Your cheeks flush, “Yeah, it’s a bit cold out here I suppose. I just needed some air and to get away from all of those people. I’m not a huge fan of crowds.”

“Yeah, same, but I kinda have to be here so…” he says just before taking a sip of his drink.

“Why’s that?” you question.

He smiles and locks eyes with you, “Because I own the company, so if I don’t show then I’d look like an ass.”

It dawns on you that you’re speaking to THE Billy Russo himself. You’ve yet to meet him because of his busy schedule and huge involvement with training his own men. The butterflies in your stomach turn to a nauseated feeling and all you could focus on was to make sure not to say the wrong thing or sound like an absolute idiot.

“Oh! Y-You’re…” is all you manage to get out before Billy cuts you off.

“Your boss?” he laughs.

“Y-Yes, my boss.” you giggle.

“Billy Russo.” he reaches out to shake your hand.

You take his hand and introduce yourself to him. You can’t help but tremble a bit when his soft lips place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. He notices your hand shaking a bit and grins as he looks back up to meet your eyes. Your eyes widen at this realization that he’s caught you.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I won’t bite. Hard” Billy smiles and winks.

You let out a small nervous chuckle and the two of you stand and talk for a while. After a few more drinks and hours of chatting, Billy offered to give you a ride home, you happily agreed. There was this charm about Billy that made you swoon and give full trust to him. 

A few days have passed, and you haven’t heard from or seen Billy since the night of the party. You didn’t really think much of it because he is a very busy man after all. After lunch, you returned to your desk to find a single red rose lying on your keyboard with a note underneath that read, “A beautiful rose, for a beautiful girl. - Your Secret Santa.”

This was a joke right? Never in your life had this happened to you. Your face immediately flushed and you looked around to see if anyone was looking. 

You finished your shift and could not stop thinking about the rose and note. Surely this wasn’t Billy, right? He would NEVER be interested in someone like me. You tried to chalk it up to being some sort of prank that Chloe and Mackenzie have played on you. That’s got to be it. 

Once you got home and were fixing yourself something to eat, you were suddenly startled by a knock at the door. You sit your glass of wine on the countertop and walk over to peak out the peephole of your front door. Billy?!

Opening the door, you look up and meet Billy’s dark eyes, “Billy? Wha - What are you doing here?”

Billy smiles and pulls a red rose from behind his back and hands it to you, “I wanted to give you this one in person.”

Your heart skips a beat and your eyes widen, “I - I thought Chloe and Mackenzie left me that rose?”

“What?” Billy laughs.

“I just thought they were playing a prank on me. I mean, I thought that maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Well, I thought that maybe it was you, but then I thought that there was no way that you would like someone like…well like me. I’m nobody. I -”

Billy cuts you off by swiftly cupping your face and gently kissing your lips. Your eyes fall shut and you drop the rose on the floor as you bring your hands up to run your fingers through his soft hair. When he pulls back from the kiss, you realize that he is holding onto you tightly around your waist.

“I hope that was okay for me to do. Y/N, you’re not nobody. Don’t ever think that.” Billy says to you as he lifts you off the ground to have your legs now wrapped around him.

You look deeply into his eyes and nod your head. You lean back in to kiss him again. Billy carries you inside and kicks the door shut with one of his feet.

He sits down on the couch with you on top of his lap. Your mind is racing. You’ve never done anything like this before, but for whatever reason, this felt right. Your panties were soaked with arousal, and all you could think about was riding his cock.

As you straddle his lap, you sit back, stare at him for a moment, and smile, “So, Secret Santa huh?”

Billy chuckles as he runs a hand through your hair and meets your intense gaze, “Kinda cheesy I know.”

You shake your head, “I think it’s cute actually.”

He grins and runs his fingers down the length of your back and grabs hold of your ass, “Oh yeah? What else you thinkin’ about sweetheart?” 

You lean in and whisper into his ear, “Unzip those pants of yours and find out.”

[stray-tickles]

Letters

Read on AO3

“Hey, Commander.” Eiffel stuck his head through the door to the bridge. “Are you busy? Got a sec?”

Minkowski looked up from the monitor. “Yeah, what’s up?”

He floated in, looking somewhat sheepish. “I- I had an idea, but it’s kind of a downer, if you’d rather…”

She rolled her eyes. “Just spit it out.”

Eiffel stared out of the window to avoid looking at her. “This- this is way worse than we knew when we signed up for it. I was thinking about Lovelace’s old logs, and…” He sighed heavily. “We don’t know if we’re all gonna make it home.”

“We are.”

“We don’t know that.” He stressed. “And I- her crew. Some of them wrote letters to go back.” Now he did turn his head to meet her gaze. “We both have people back on Earth that we’d… I thought, if you want, we could do an exchange. Just in case.”

Minkowski narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like this kind of talk. “I’ve already decided that we’re going to make it back. You’re under direct orders to do so.”

Eiffel laughed quietly. “And I’ve always been super at following orders.” He laced his fingers together. “Look, I’m not giving up, I swear. It’s just for insurance.” Because he sometimes lay awake thinking about Anne and all the things he wanted to say to her. How if he died, he’d never get to. He cleared his throat, so he didn’t sound too choked up. “For peace of mind.”

The thought of Dominik had been on her mind, ever since she’d found out they were officially dead. If that death wound up being real… It would be nice to be able to say goodbye. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. You’re not wrong. I can’t say I haven’t thought about… having insurance sounds good.” Especially when she’d already promised herself that Eiffel was getting back to Earth come hell or high water. “Anything you want me to take back, I’ll do it.”

“Okay.” Eiffel relaxed. “And you too. I mean out of the two of us I know what kind of chance I stand but… insurance, right?”

“Yeah.”

She’d have to write an apology for him too. For insurance.

--

Things were… okay. Doug could see that they’d all been through a lot, but given it was going to take them a few months to reach Earth, they were okay. Renée was getting stronger by the day, recovering from her gunshot wound, and he only occasionally caught her or Isabel looking at him in that heartbroken kind of way.

Despite what he’d heard of the logs, it seemed like he meant a lot to them. He’d get the hang of it eventually. They were easy to like.

Renée had been up and about for a couple of days when Hera gently reminded him that he needed to wash his clothes. He knew that, but at the same time, it had slipped his mind.

It was only in changing out of his filthy jumpsuit that he found a stack of envelopes stuck to the inside, tied together with an elastic band.

He removed it and flicked through them. Had he left something for himself?

Mom, Dad, Dominik… Eiffel. That one had his name on it. He stared at it. The handwriting wasn’t familiar, but nothing was familiar to him right now. Should he ask about it? Who would he ask? He didn’t want to bring up anything painful for the others.

Besides, he thought as he opened the envelope and slid out the folded paper within, it was addressed to him.

‘Hey Eiffel,

I guess if you’re reading this, I’m dead. I don’t think you’d expect me to write one of these for you, but then again, maybe you wouldn’t expect for you to be the one to make it home out of the two of us either. I don’t know what happened, but I promised myself a while ago that I’d make sure you made it back safe before anything else. I hope you’re not going back alone, but if you are, I’m glad it’s you.

I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say. Something heartfelt and meaningful, of course, but there’s so much. And so little. Thank you for being here. I’d never admit it to your face, but your dumb jokes were only dumb some of the time. Thank you for being my friend. I want you to have a good life back on Earth. I hope you can hug Anne again, and I hope you keep trying. I hope there’s a new Star Wars movie waiting for you. I hope you get that pizza, and you get to really enjoy it.’

He was crying. Doug wiped his eyes on his sleeve to keep from blotting the paper and tried not to think too hard about why he was crying.

‘If it’s not too morbid, maybe you can look for Wolf 359 in the sky some time. By the time you’re back, you might be able to see the day we arrived. If you do, tell past me to relax a bit. To appreciate her dumbass Communications Officer more. Tell her that he’ll become one of the most important people in the universe to her, and that I need her to get him home.

I hope, if you are reading this, that it’s an accident, and you’re making fun of me. I’d happily play keep-away with you if we all make it back safely.

Signing off,

Renée Minkowski’

The tears were coming full force now, along with a crushing ache in his chest like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed. Doug released his grip on the letter and fell back onto his bed, clapping his hands over his mouth as the sobbing started. It hurt, why did it hurt so much? What even was it that hurt this much?

“Doug?” It was Hera.

Oh. Hera. Hera.

He was shaking. A lot. He couldn’t seem to stop doing that any more than he could stop crying and gasping for air. He hoped Hera wasn’t too worried. She spent too much of her time trying to protect him. Oh. Where did that thought come from?

“Doug, are you okay?”

Protecting him. Why was she protecting him? He remembered being cold, feeling clumps of hair coming off in his hands. He remembered… being lost.

“Douglas Eiffel!”

He was… dying? Had been dying? He was trapped in a tiny space with no way out, cold and bleeding and alone and…

“EIFFEL!”

He gasped, coming back to himself. “S-sorry!” He gasped, the shaking easing off marginally.

“What is going on?!” Hera demanded, agitated. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

Doug swallowed against the lump in his throat. He remembered Hera. He remembered being lost in space. He remembered the deep pit of loneliness in his chest. “I’m fine, Hera, thanks.”

“Then tell me what is happening with you! You looked like you were having a seizure!”

“I’m okay.” He rubbed his hands over his face, eyes stinging from the tears. “Don’t worry about it, it’s… it’s fine.” He couldn’t tell them yet. This was so small. Isabel was still a blur, never mind Renée.

He was starting to understand why she’d been so sad.

Hera, predictably, didn’t listen. “Either you tell me what’s going on right now or I’m calling the others.”

“Hera…”

“Now.”

He sighed. “Okay, okay, just… you’ve gotta promise not to tell them.”

“Fine.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, I promise.”

Doug took a breath. “I think… I remembered something.”

Hera was silent for a few long seconds. When she spoke, she sounded breathless. “Are- are you sure?”

He groaned. “No, I- was I… lost? It felt like a nightmare, I was so cold and alone and maybe dying? I don’t know what that even means.”

“You- were lost.” Hera said quietly. “You were on a shuttle lost in space for… a long time. You used the cryogenic pod to survive.”

“Oh. That sounds right.”

“Anything else?”

Doug wrapped his arms around himself. “I think I remember you? Nothing specific, but… I remember that you- you’re stubborn and caring and- and you make me happy.”

Hera made a sound that could have been a sob.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No!” She exclaimed. “No, I- that’s right. I think.” She seemed to take a moment to brace herself. “You- you make me happy too.”

“Oh.” Doug smiled to himself. “That’s nice.” It felt nice. He felt warm.

“We should tell the others.” Hera said decisively.

He balked. “What- no!”

“Doug?” She sounded genuinely confused.

He sighed heavily. “Just- what if that’s all I remember? I don’t- I don’t remember Renée or Isabel o-or Daniel, what if I never do?” He sagged. “I’ve seen the way they look at me. I- if I don’t remember… I don’t wanna hurt them. They’re okay right now. If I don’t remember them, we- we’ll be okay.”

“I… I understand.” Hera sighed. She didn’t like it, but she understood. “What triggered this? You were reading something, what was that?”

“Oh.” He looked over at the letter floating in the middle of his room. “It’s… Renée. She wrote me a letter. I don’t know, I just… found it. There’s others but I don’t recognise them.”

“Oh.” Hera breathed. “Yes, you two made an agreement a while ago. In case one of you didn’t survive, the other would be able to deliver them to their loved ones.”

For some reason hearing her say that, hearing the words ‘loved ones’ in reference to something addressed to him sent another white-hot jolt through his heart. “Oh.” He said in a small voice, quickly wiping away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry.” Hera murmured. “I wish I could give you a hug.”

Doug sniffled. “Me too.” He said, and grabbed one of the pillows from his bed, hugging it tightly to his chest. “I’ll pretend this is you, for now.”

“Thank you.” Hera said affectionately. “It does look very cozy.” She vowed to herself that she’d get one of the others to give him a hug for her as soon as they’d gotten to the bottom of this.

--

When things came back to him, they first came back as feelings. It turned out to be a good thing to tell Hera, because she was great at helping him make sense of it all.

“Hera? Was I… super mad at Renée about something?”

Hera snorted. “Well yes, at some point over the last few years, but you might want to be more specific.”

Even without his memories, Doug got the joke. “Ha, yeah I guess. I don’t know, it was like. Like she was leaving me behind.” He muttered the last few words. That sour feeling came with them.

“Or like she was sending you away?”

He huffed. “Yeah.”

“Yes, you were mad at her about that, not long before…”

He looked down, trying not to ignore the feeling. The feeling of the door as he pounded on it. The sound of her voice, guilty but determined. The helplessness of knowing that almost everyone important to him was back there and he was leaving.

“She… tried to send me back. To Earth. By myself.” Eiffel looked up. “Right?”

“Yes.” Hera admitted. “She said that if we failed… someone would need to warn the rest of humanity of what was going to happen.”

“Right.”

She sighed. “But I- I think she mostly did it because she cares about you. Wanted to keep you safe.”

“Oh.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That kind of backfired, huh.”

“You’re still here.” Hera reminded him. “That’s enough.”

--

A few days later, Doug woke in the middle of the night with tears streaking his face. Feelings, what was the feeling?

Guilt. Horror. Despair. The sound of sirens and the smell of metal and blood.

He sniffled. “H-Hera?”

“Yes? Yes, I’m here.” He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the pale blue light that seemed to fill whatever space she was in. “Are you okay, Doug?”

He wiped his eyes. “D-did I almost get my daughter killed?”

Oh. “Doug…”

“Please. Please just tell me.” He felt wrung out. He felt like the worst person alive. He felt like he didn’t want his memories back anymore.

“Yes.” Hera whispered. “It was an accident, you…”

He swallowed thickly. “I was drunk.” Shame. The memory of his little girl’s face, how she’d looked the last time he saw her, bleeding and injured.

“Yeah. But you didn’t mean to hurt her, a-and-”

“Enough.” He said flatly. “Please. I- I think I need to be alone now.”

“Eiffel…”

“Thanks for telling me.”

--

Memories of Anne snowballed into memories of Renée. Of her not talking to him, and how much that had hurt. How it had only hurt more when he found out why, even though he knew she was right to. How the pain mattered because… because she was important to him. He knew that before, but he felt it now.

Hera helped fill in the blanks. Reminded him of how they had reconciled. It helped. A little.

He spent as much time with the others as he could. They were good people, and regardless of whether he remembered them better or not, he wanted to be with them.

It was with that in mind that he made two cups of coffee and set out to find Renée. He knew from the recording about how they had lost coffee, and how much he had missed it. Maybe she had too.

He found her alone on the bridge and carefully floated over, cups in hand. “Coffee?”

Minkowski nearly jumped out of her skin in fright. “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

Doug blinked and looked around confusedly. “Who?”

He was even more confused when Renée started laughing.

“S-sorry!” She giggled, one hand trying to cover her mouth. “It’s n-not funny.” It wasn’t, he’d forgotten everything, why was she laughing?

Well, he did have a way of getting under her skin, even now. She forced deep breaths, the laughter petering out, and noticed that Doug was giving her an odd look. “What?”

He shook himself. “Oh, uh, nothing.” He held out a mug.

“Thanks.” She said, taking it gratefully. “But seriously, what?”

He shrugged. “It’s just… nice to see you happy.”

Oh. She smiled into her coffee. How was she supposed to respond to that? “Sorry if I’ve been kind of a downer.”

“Nonono! You- you’ve been through a lot, it’s to be expected.” Doug knew he was a big part of that. Still, he couldn’t shake the warm, proud feeling inside sparked from making her laugh. That had happened before, hadn’t it?

Renée sighed, feeling herself relax that bit more. “Still. I’m glad you’re here.” She tried to come off as casual. “You gonna keep me company?”

He smiled. “Only if you want me to, Minkowski.”

She stared at him, and he realised he’d messed up. “Oh, I- that’s right, right? In the recordings…” He didn’t mention how natural it felt to call her that.

“Yeah.” She said quietly. “That’s right.”

“Cool.”

Minkowski cleared her throat. “And I… yes. I’d like you to stay.”

Eiffel smiled. “Cool.”

--

It was nice spending the time with Renée. They talked about nothing in particular, looked at the stars, drank their coffee. That proud, happy feeling in his stomach didn’t go away, in fact it got stronger. More memories of her surfaced, of them arguing, her saving him, patting him on the shoulder and wishing him a happy birthday, them laughing together.

He remembered Hera, too. Him staying up half the night chattering away with her about movies and music, her covering for him when he was slacking off, her saving him. Her viciously sarcastic streak. He waited until his door had closed behind him to speak. “Hey, Hera?”

Her voice crackled to life. “Yes?”

Doug smiled to himself. “I love you.”

“Oh!” She glitched. “Did you, um, did you remember something?”

She sounded flustered. It was kind of cute. “Yeah, a bit, from hanging out with Min- Renée. Mostly her, and you.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“And that I love you guys.”

“Okay Doug.”

He grinned. “Are you embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.”

“Are you the bestest AI in the whole wide galaxy?”

“Eiffel!” She squeaked, seemingly incapable of saying anything else.

He chuckled. “I just want to make sure you know.”

“Okay, fine, just shut up!”

“Anything you say, sweetheart.”

--

They were having dinner the next time it happened. Isabel had slathered her food with a bottle of red sauce that Doug didn’t recognise, and when he asked about it, she offered him some. Minkowski gave him a warning look, but, well. He’d never paid those any mind before.

He was so caught up in the euphoria of knowing that, that he swallowed before registering the flavour, and the next thing he knew he was spluttering and coughing from the intense burning in his throat.

Isabel clapped him on the back, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered him some water. “You okay, man?”

Doug nodded weakly, gulping down the water.

Minkowski shook her head but said nothing.

He finished the water, but the feeling in his throat lingered. Burning, stinging. Sticky? No, his throat wasn’t sticky, where had that thought come from?

Hot, sticky, panic. He’d been scared, choking. Dying? Again?

“Hey! You in there?” Isabel waved a hand in front of his eyes.

Oh. Lovelace. She clicked right into place in his mind as if she’d never been missing. Terse, no nonsense, goofy, brave.

An alien?

Yes. She was, yes! Her alien blood had saved his life when he was dying from decima, and again when he was brainwashed.

“Doug!”

He jumped. “Sorry! Sorry, I- uh, zoned out there.”

She seemed concerned. “You sure did! You okay?”

“Yeah,” He swallowed. “Yeah.” Concerned. Why did that ring a bell?

You guys weren’t… actually concerned, were you?

When was that? Why were they concerned? He felt… bad. Guilty and upset. And lonely.

What don't you do? You lie. You keep secrets. You do whatever you want, whenever you want.

Lovelace. And it hadn’t just been her, had it? She was just the first to say something, to tell him what a jackass he was being. He didn’t mean to be, he didn’t even notice!

But he had. To everyone.

Doug stood abruptly. “I, uh, I think I’m done.” He said, trying to not let his emotions show on his face. “Gonna go to bed.”

He didn’t sleep.

--

“You should tell them.”

Doug floundered. “But there’s still so much I can’t remember! Those books, a-and what happened in second grade, the movies!”

Hera sighed. “You’re never going to remember every single thing that happened in your life, you know that. But you remember them, and me, and you remember how much they matter to you. Isn’t that enough?”

It was enough. More than enough, actually. They mattered to him so much, and what was he? He’d hurt everyone who he’d ever cared about. He was useless, lazy, and thoughtless. This couldn’t be the person that they wanted. It just couldn’t. “I need more time.”

Hera didn’t seem to care. “For what? I thought you’d be excited to tell them.”

“I’m not.” He muttered, his heart aching.

Hera paused. “Please.” She said quietly. “Talk to me.”

Eiffel hugged the pillow to his chest and buried his face in it, struggling not to cry. Hera waited patiently.

He let out a shuddering breath. “Hera, I’m… awful.” He whispered. “I almost got my daughter killed, I’ve been terrible to you, to all of you! Why would anyone ever want that guy back?”

“Eiffel…”

He sniffled, blinking back tears. “But that’s it, maybe- maybe they don’t. Wh-what if when we get back…” He was trembling. “What’s the p-point in keeping me around?”

“Because we love you, you idiot!”

“Why? After everything-”

“After everything is the whole point! We’ve been through hell together; you think none of that matters because you made a few mistakes?”

“It’s more than that and you know it.”

“What I know is that you were the first person who made me feel like a person.” Hera said fiercely. “And I won’t let anyone talk about you like that, even you.”

Eiffel hugged the pillow tightly. “Hera…”

She softened. “Are you really worried that the others won’t want you to be part of their lives when we get back?”

He tried to laugh but wound up crying instead. “C’mon. Look at me.”

Hera sighed. “I need to figure out how to do hugs.” She muttered, getting no reaction. “Look, I know you’re scared, and you feel like you- you’re not good enough. But you can’t go on like this. The only way to make that feeling go away is to tell them.”

He fell sideways onto the bed. “I don’t want to.” What even was he, without his crew? He might as well go back to jail.

“I know.” Hera murmured. “I guess the memories about how much we all need you haven’t come back yet.”

“Sure.” Eiffel muttered. He didn’t have the strength to question whether such memories even existed.

--

It took him a day to find the resolve to make the choice, and another after that to figure out how to do this. He’d looked Minkowski and Lovelace in the eye enough times to know that he couldn’t just casually start that conversation.

He owed them the truth, in whatever way he could deliver it.

Eiffel held the letter in trembling hands, looking over it for the hundredth time, trying to absorb some of Minkowski’s strength. It helped somewhat.

‘Thank you for being my friend.’

He’d need to return that sentiment, somehow. When he could.

He shook himself. One thing at a time.

It was a good thing he’d figured out the comms system on the Urania. Eiffel cleared his throat and flicked a switch. “Hey gang.” He said awkwardly. “I- uh- couldn’t think of a good way to do this, so I’m just gonna take the coward’s way out! Anyway, I- I got my memories back, mostly. Yay. That’s all. Um… carry on.”

He could have left the comms room. Part of him wanted to. The nervous energy buzzing under his skin screaming at him to run away, but he stayed. It was done now.

Barely a minute later the door opened, revealing a wide-eyed, out of breath Renée Minkowski. She stared at him. “If this is supposed to be some kind of joke…”

Eiffel felt his nerves melt away. “Hey.” He said softly. “Thanks for the letter.”

It was a good thing that he’d had the foresight to strap himself into the comms seat, because otherwise the two of them would have ended up slammed into the opposite wall from the force that Minkowski launched herself at him. Eiffel managed to catch her as they collided and swallowed his grunt of pain from the tightness of the hug.

He let out a long sigh. This felt right. “Hey.”

Renée took a shaky breath. “Hey.” She managed to loosen her iron grip enough that he’d be able to breathe. Letting go wasn’t on the cards right now. “How did you…”

“Like I said,” He murmured. “Thanks for the letter.”

Oh. She huffed a laugh. “I forgot.”

“Me too.”

She snorted into his shoulder. “Don’t even- it’s too soon to joke about that.”

Eiffel grinned. “Oh yeah? I swear I heard a laugh there.”

Minkowski felt herself smile. “No.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

He was teasing her, and it felt so utterly normal. It was okay. They were going home, Eiffel was here, himself, and they were safe… Wait. “Pryce!” She yelped, drawing back, “Is she-”

Eiffel jumped. “It’s fine, it’s okay!” He said. “And jeez, don’t yell right next to my head.”

“What do you mean it’s fine?”

He sighed. “It’s fine! Hera’s been keeping a really close eye on her. We might have been linked before but… seems like this is just a me thing.”

“Oh, thank god.” There was a scare, and then there was thinking they might be trapped with a pissed off Miranda Pryce. “Wait…” Her eyes narrowed. Hera has been keeping a close eye on her? “How long have you-”

He looked away. “I mean, that’s a complicated-”

“Almost two weeks!” Hera chirped.

“What?”

“Hera!”

Hera was utterly unrepentant. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just answering the Commander’s question.”

Eiffel groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, you’re the worst.”

“No, I can think of someone who’s worse.” Minkowski growled.

“Ugh, it’s not- look it’s not like everything came back all at once, okay?! I wasn’t gonna say anything if I wasn’t sure it’d stick, or-” He groaned again. “How am I back for five minutes and already being court martialled?”

She forced herself to take a long breath and drop the anger. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I-I just don’t understand.”

Eiffel hugged himself. “Like I said, it was… gradual. I found your letter, but I didn’t know what it was, and it- I don’t know, it triggered something. All I remembered at first was being stuck in cryo, and I thought maybe it was a fluke.”

“And after that?”

She shrugged, not looking at her.

“Eiffel…”

“Oh, it’s nothing really, Commander.” Hera said, a steely edge to her voice. “He’s just upset because we’ll obviously never speak to him again once we get back to Earth.”

“What?!” Now she was incredulous. There was no way he could think that, right?

Apparently he could, because he looked utterly crestfallen at Hera’s words. “Hera, c’mon.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that not what you think?”

He looked like he was about to cry. “Hera…”

Minkowski felt something hard settle in her stomach. No. Absolutely not. “Why would you think that?” She asked, trying her best to keep her voice gentle.

He buried his face in his hands. “Seriously Renée? Have you seen me? I’m terrible. I’ve hurt literally everyone I’ve ever cared about, I’m lazy and rude and shitty.”

The venom in his voice stunned her into silence.

“And you- you’ve got your shit together! What- are you gonna come home and be like ‘hi honey, this is Doug; high school dropout, air force dropout, alcoholic jackass convicted felon, we’re just gonna- gonna hang out?!’”

Doug was crying now. He tried his best to stop, he didn’t need either of them feeling sorry for him. It was his own fault that he’d turned out like this.

A familiar hand took his. Against his better judgement, he looked up at her.

Renée started slowly. “I’ll say, ‘Hello Dominik, I missed you so much that it felt like a hole in the chest. This is Doug Eiffel, he’s my best friend. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have made it back at all, let alone as anything resembling a human being. He’s going to be part of my life now, and if you don’t like it,” She squeezed his hand tightly. “I know my choice.’”

“Wh- no.” He rasped, “Y-you can’t.”

“No, what I can’t do is move on from this and- just let you go. It’s not happening.” She spotted the letter half floating out of his pocket and took it, holding it up to him. “I don’t know what part of this made you think I’d even want that.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Please, don’t- I’m not worth it.”

Well, she couldn’t not hug him. “You are.” She said, cradling his head with one hand and running her fingers through his tangled hair. “I can’t go back to regular life without you. Promise you’ll be there.”

Eiffel sniffled. “Commander…”

“Eiffel.” She tightened the embrace. “Please. For me.”

She just had to play that card, huh? He swallowed thickly. “Fine.” He raised his arms to return the hug. For you.

She sighed in relief. “Thank you. And we’ll work on the whole feeling like you’re not worth it thing. Together.”

He wasn’t sure about working on it, but together? That he could deal with.

--

Minkowski had insisted he had some tea after… all of that. It was all he could do to stop her from making it for him. He did have to admit that talking to her helped. He didn’t exactly feel great about himself, but… well, if she was going to throw her lot in with him, he’d have to be better.

Doug sighed, watching the tea steep. He couldn’t deny the part of him that was happy from the ultimatum. He didn’t like being alone, never had.

“Um… Officer Eiffel?”

He looked up. “Hey Hera, what’s up?”

“I-” She hesitated. “I wanted to apologise.”

He cocked his head. “Apologise?”

Hera sighed. “Yes. I’ve been too harsh with you. I don’t like seeing you like that, talking about yourself like that, and I tried to… well, I can’t shame you into thinking about yourself more positively.”

“Eh, never hurts to try.”

“Yes it does!” She exclaimed. “It does, I-I feel like I just made you feel worse.”

Eiffel’s hand curled delicately around the handle of his mug. “It’s okay, Hera. You did help. It’s not like I was gonna open up on my own.”

“You talked to me about it.”

He laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s easier when I don’t have to look you in the eye. No offense.”

“None taken.” She paused. “Are you feeling better at all?”

Eiffel held the cup in his hands, savouring the warmth. “A little.”

“That’s good. I want you to be happy.”

He smiled weakly. “Thank you. You too.” He sipped the tea and grimaced at the temperature, putting it down to cool.

Hera coughed. “Oh, um… incoming.”

Doug frowned. “Incoming what?” He asked, before being tackled by a very enthusiastic Isabel Lovelace.

“Are you kidding me?!” She said, as they span in circles.

He grinned. “Oh, hey Cap.”

She squeezed him tightly, laughter colouring her voice. “The first nap I take in literally years and that’s when you decide to break the news?”

Eiffel burst out laughing. “Oh my god, really?”

“Yes! I got up, like, a few minutes ago! Ran into Minkowski in the hall and asked what I missed; I think she thought I was screwing with her.”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “Jesus-”

“You’re officially on my shit-list, Eiffel.” She said, though the effect was ruined by the massive smile.

He pulled back enough to grin at her. “I wasn’t before?”

Lovelace laughed. “Oh, you really do remember.”

He hugged her tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. “I really do.”

She buried her face in his shoulder. “Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back.” It was. Despite himself, he was happy.

She drew back. “Oh my god, I wanted to tell you, you should have seen the look on Minkowski’s face when she realised you were gonna ram us with the Sol.”

Oh yeah. He did do that, didn’t he. He winced. “Was she mad?”

Lovelace snorted. “I don’t know if mad is the right word. Definitely surprised, but like,” She broke into giggles, “I swear she aged like twenty years; it was like a parent finding out their kid set fire to the classroom on the last day.”

Eiffel covered his eyes with one hand, laughing silently. “That’s such a specific picture.”

She nudged him. “But you know exactly what I mean.”

“Oh yeah, I’m familiar with all the annoyed faces of Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski.”

“You sure about that?” Renée asked from the doorway, making them both snap their mouths closed. “See, Hera? It’s when they shut up that I know they’ve been talking about me.”

Hera laughed, and Doug grinned. “Heeey, bestie!”

“Oh Jesus-” She buried her face in her hands to hide the smile. “Well, it’s good to see you’re feeling more yourself.”

“Is it? Are you sure?” Lovelace teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.” Even at her expense, she’d missed that smug grin.

--

It was late in the supposed evening when Minkowski found him alone on the bridge. “Hey.” She said quietly, to avoid scaring him.

Eiffel looked up. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

She shrugged. “Just checking in.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know.” Hera whispered.

Their eyes met, and all three burst out laughing.

Renée straightened up, stray giggles still leaking out. “What are you doing up here?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I figured I might as well enjoy the view.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Eiffel smiled gently. “’Course not.”

“Thanks.” She floated up to the middle of the window, beside him. Maybe she’d actually miss this kind of view when they got back.

“Really doesn’t feel like we’re going very fast, does it?”

“I could always add some whooshing noises for effect?” Hera said.

Minkowski barked a laugh. “No, thanks Hera.”

“Happy to help!” She chirped, in that sweetly insipid voice that she only used when she was joking nowadays.

They floated in silence for a little while.

Minkowski spoke first. “How are you doing?” She asked, not looking at him. Knowing that being stared down was the last thing she’d want, in his shoes.

“Better.” He said. “I slept a ton last night, and… it’s nice, having you guys back.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was thinking, getting hit with every bad day you’ve ever had in rapid succession like that probably isn’t great for the ol’ self-esteem.”

Oh. “Yeah, probably not.” Suddenly remembering all the people she had gotten killed would probably take a toll on her too. “Still. If you need to talk…”

“Thanks, Commander. I’ll keep you posted.”

She stretched. “I won’t be that for much longer.”

Eiffel groaned. “Ugh, don’t remind me, Renée.” The disdain in his voice made her grin. “Can’t believe I called you that, it feels like a weird taste in my mouth.”

She elbowed him gently. “You’d better get used to it.”

“I only just got used to Minkowski!”

That earned an eye roll. “You can stick to that, if you want.”

He raised his eyebrows, floating upside down. “You sure? Doesn’t feel like normal civilian behaviour.”

“You really think we’re gonna be normal civilians?”

Eiffel chuckled. “Fair point. I’ll try though.”

“What about you? Got a preference?”

“Huh?” It took a moment to realise what she was talking about. “Oh, not really. As long as it’s my name I’m good.”

Minkowski smirked. “Good to know, Fernand.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

He laughed. “Jackass.”

She grinned to herself, then noticed something floating out of his pocket. “Hey, you got a man overboard there.”

“Huh?” Eiffel looked down and spotted the letter making an escape attempt. “Oh, thanks.” He pushed it back, buttoning the pocket, and looked up to find her giving him a strange look. “What?”

Minkowski wasn’t sure if she was touched or mortified. “Are you… carrying that around with you?”

He put a hand over the pocket the letter was in. “Why not? It’s mine.”

She groaned, but couldn’t quite put the messy feeling into words.

Eiffel’s mouth quirked into a grin. “I like it. I think when we get back, I’ll get it framed.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Aw but it’s so sweet!” Eiffel teased. “Who knew the big bad Commander was such a sap?”

Minkowski grumbled, her face flushing, and Hera scoffed. “Oh please, like yours was any better.”

His face dropped immediately, seeing her expression shift into a grin. “No.” Doug said, pushing himself right way up. “No, don’t even think about- No!”

With a laugh, she took off in the direction of her quarters, Eiffel hot on her tail.

He couldn’t help but laugh too. “Minkowski! Don’t you dare!”

“It’s only fair!” She shouted, punching in the code to her door.

“No!” Eiffel yelped, catching up just as the door opened and quickly darting in before she could. He was triumphant for a moment, right up until the door closed and locked him in. “Shit!”

She took a moment to laugh and catch her breath. “Hera?”

Hera laughed. “Okay, it is only fair. I won’t let him out.”

“Traitor!” He yelled through the door.

“Aw, that’s not what you really think, is it?” Minkowski teased, digging around in her pockets for the stack of envelopes.

He banged a fist on the door, grinning helplessly. This was what she’d said in her letter, wasn’t it? Something about how it’d be okay to be made fun of if they were all safe. They were all safe, and it was okay. Embarrassing, but… he could live with that.

“Did you seriously keep them on you?”

“You didn’t?” She said, skipping through the admittedly not numerous letters.

“No, I-I did.” He didn’t mention that they’d been jammed in his armpit for several months.

There was only one blank envelope. Seemed like he’d gone a step further than her in the hopes of it not being noticed while he was still alive. She opened it, pulled out the contents, and snorted. “Is this a pizza voucher?”

“I’ll have you know that place is amazing!”

“It’s expired.”

“What? No!”

“It expired before we left!”

“Well…” He floundered. “It’s the thought that counts! Anyway, that’s the only thing in there, so you can just let me out now…”

“Nice try.” Minkowski grinned, audibly rustling the paper.

Eiffel groaned, completely unable to stop smiling. “C’mon!”

She paused. “Seriously.”

He groaned again, burying his face in his hands. This was worse, somehow. He could remember setting out to write something for Minkowski; he knew she’d blame herself if she was going home without him, but he’d been stuck on what he could possibly say that would make that better. Hera helped. She’d asked him what he wanted to achieve and he’d come up with two answers. He wanted it to be sincere, and he wanted to make her laugh.

He pouted. “Ugh, it’s fine, I guess…” Knowing she’d get the message. This warm, happy feeling buzzing inside him from the sheer joy of being understood, of how much he loved them all.

Minkowski ran her thumb across the folded letter with an affectionate smile. She was almost tempted to put it away and save it for another time. Almost.

The first thing she noticed was that it wasn’t so much a structured letter as a series of disconnected fragments. The second thing she noticed was a cartoon that he’d drawn. “Is-” She coughed to hide a laugh. “Is this supposed to be me?”

Eiffel was smiling, she could hear it in his voice. “What, you can’t tell? I thought the harpoon would be a dead giveaway!”

Did he… He didn’t even know, did he? “I killed Cutter with a harpoon.”

“Oh yeah, sure, very funny.” There was a long pause. “Wait, for real?!”

It wasn’t funny. She’d impaled a man, it wasn’t funny. She laughed anyway. “Yep.”

He cackled. “Oh my God, badass. I wish I’d seen it.”

“It did feel pretty badass.” She glanced over one of the small paragraphs scribbled in the margin and felt her eyes get a little misty. Eiffel’s loyalty had surprised her before, but seeing the words ‘really special person’ written about her… shit, maybe she was a sap.

“You hanging in there, Minkowski?”

“Spoiled for choice.” Wait… “Is this a poem?”

Eiffel snickered. “I don’t know, is it?”

She stared at the letter incredulously.

‘There once was a man with a face Who almost drowned out in deep space His commander she saved him But then it was mayhem And she was really really cool’

Any chance she had of maintaining composure went up in smoke at the last line. She clamped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter, but knew it was futile. “That- that doesn’t even rhyme!”

“Oh, it doesn’t?” He sounded delighted with himself. “Silly me.”

“Idiot.” She snickered, smiling so widely it hurt.

Eiffel grinned. “Can I come out now?”

Minkowski rolled her eyes and pocketed the letter. “Fine.” As if she wasn’t going to cherish that scrap of paper for the rest of her life.

The door whooshed open after a moment, revealing Eiffel standing there with an expectant smile and his arms loosely outstretched. She rolled her eyes again and dragged him into a hug. “Thanks.”

He squeezed her tightly. “Eh, it didn’t trigger decades of missing memories, so nothing too special.”

“Or tears!” Hera said.

“Hey! That was the flashbacks!”

“Sure, sure.” She said, amused. “And the second time?”

“Hera!”

Minkowski grinned, pulling back. “Eh, not his fault he’s a softie.”

Hera scoffed. “Oh please, you’re soft peas in a sappy pod.” They both flushed. “You do realise it was never part of the agreement to write something for each other?”

Eiffel fumbled. “It- it wasn’t not part of the agreement!”

“Uh huh.” Hera teased.

Minkowski smirked. “Okay, so maybe we’re saps.” She conceded, slowly reaching a hand into her back pocket. “You sure it’s just us?”

“Commander!”

“Yes?”

Eiffel looked between her and the nearest camera, confused. “What?”

Hera sounded mortified. “Okay, okay, you made your point!”

She smiled smugly. “Oh, good.”

“What is going on?”

“Nothing!” Hera said.

“Don’t worry about it.” Minkowski said with a wink. “You’ll find out.”

--

Doug returned to his room the next day to find a folded piece of paper on his bed. He frowned at it. “Hey, Hera? What’s this?”

Surprisingly, there was no reply other than the slight buzz of the speakers. So, she was there. But she wasn’t answering him.

He sat down and carefully unfolded it. This time, he recognised all of the handwriting. The slightly untidy scrawl, the meticulous block letter, and of course, the one clearly typed and printed.

He smiled as his eyes scanned the words, and the signatures at the bottom of the page. “Thanks, Hera.”

She didn’t respond.

Eiffel’s smile grew and he hugged the letter to his chest. “I love you.”

Hera paused nervously. “I know.”

He laughed quietly. “Yeah, yeah. Wait, that’s Star Wars, isn’t it?”

“Um. Yes?”

He laughed delightedly. “Oh my god! I remember Star Wars!”

Oh. “I’m happy for you.” She said warmly.

Eiffel pressed himself against the wall, hugging it as best he could. “I love you so much, Hera.”

“As much as Star Wars?”

He laughed quietly. “So much more than Star Wars.”

She softened. “I love you too.”

[prettyiwa]

12 November 2018 | 09:45 (PST)

(previous) | (next)

Iwaizumi Hajime x F!Reader

Oikawa’s ringtone can be heard in the kitchen where Iwaizumi had left his phone. It’s been two months since you left and a week since you called. The apartment is empty without you, even if all of your belongings are here, promising your return.

For what it’s worth, Oikawa’s been surprisingly helpful, carefully listening to both sides, understanding that it’s a case of frayed nerves, miscommunication, and shitty circumstances. So Iwaizumi wastes no time answering the phone.

“Iwa-chan! How’s California?”

“The same as it was two days ago. Kinda shitty and on fire.”

“Tsk. Always such a downer. Are you sure that it isn’t the absence of—”

“Her absence is exactly why it’s shitty and you know that.”

“Hm. I suppose I do,” Oikawa muses lightly. “Are you still on track to graduate just before summer?”

“Yeah. Spoke to my advisors this past week. I could graduate in two months, if I wanted, but…” if he does, then he’ll be leaving California. Leaving you. You’re nearly done with med school, almost ready to return to Japan.

He has no intention of returning alone. He’ll fight tooth and nail for you, for this relationship. Even if you two are… in a tough place right now, he’s not going anywhere.

“Ah. Well. She misses you. She’s wrapped her pillow with one of your old Godzilla shirts.”

He snorts at the image, at the knowledge that it was you who had taken his shirt, that he hadn’t lost it at the laundromat. “That… sounds about right, I guess. How—how is she?”

“What? She hasn’t called you?” Oikawa asks, sounding surprised. Overwhelmingly surprised.

“No? She called me last Tuesday and I haven’t really heard from her since.”

“That’s—maybe she picked up extra shifts at the clinic? I could ask when I see her tomorrow.”

“You’re gonna see her tomorrow?”

“We were gonna watch a recording of the Adlers-Black Jackal’s game. I wanna watch Ushiwaka and Kageyama lose to Shōyō! Do you want me to tell her to give you a call?”

Iwaizumi hesitates, wanting to talk to you more than anything—actually, no, he wants to hold you more than anything—but he wants it only if you’re doing it because you want to.

“Nah. It’s okay. I’ll, ah, I’ll shoot her a text. Hopefully, we’ll be able to talk today or tomorrow. Hey, listen—”

“Iwa-chan. She’ll come around,” Oikawa states, catching onto Iwaizumi’s discomfort. “It was nice chatting with you, but practice is about to start.”

“Yeah, man. Talk to you later.”

Iwaizumi sinks into the couch, letting his mind wander over what the future holds. With his program coming to an end, will he be able to find work with the V. League? When you return, will you two be able to reconcile properly? Will you want to be a part of his future?

Before he can spend too much time dwelling on the infinite possibilities that lay ahead, he receives a text from you.

Hey. I miss you. A lot. There’s so much I want to tell you but I know you’re probably busy. Please give me a call if your schedule permits? I have two days off, starting tomorrow. I’ll be watching a recording of the Schweiden-MSBY game with Crappykawa tomorrow, but that can be paused... I miss you. I hope you’re well.

over the course of 24 hours masterlist | haikyuu!! masterlist

[mishydraws]

Very... very unfortunate life update

Hi, everyone.

Ok, I don’t want to waste your time but I wanted to be upfront about what’s going on in my life just so you all know.

Last night I got what is probably one of the worst emails that could have ever appeared in my inbox? Our landlord has given us a 60-day notice to get out. For context, my mom and I have been living here since the year 2000. We have never been late on rent or missed a payment despite every difficulty life has thrown at us in that time and this has completely blindsided us.

We haven’t spoken to any of the neighbors yet but some of the wording on the notice makes me think that they may be kicking out the entire building. Or maybe they’re just targeting those of us in the non-renovated units because we’ve been here so long and they could charge a new tenant much more with a quick kitchen and bathroom upgrade. Renoviction is a new word I just learned. I don’t know. That’s what happened to my brother at his last apartment. They kicked out everyone in his building, renovated, raised the rent, then let new people move in.

They suddenly started increasing our rent every year like clockwork a few years ago so I’ve had a feeling they’ve been trying to price us out for a while but I didn’t know they could just… tell us to leave just because they can. Rent consistently paid up and everything for 24 years.

The notice we received really doesn’t say much so it’s all speculation I guess. It doesn’t state a reason why it just says we need to be gone by March 31st.

But basically, I’m really not doing well right now in all honesty. I slept for maybe an hour last night and it’s like a switch flipped in me as soon as I read the email. My stomach has had this weird knotted feeling ever since and I can’t stand up for more than a few minutes before needing to lie down again in case I either faint or vomit… I’m not sure which but it’s been this way since last night. I had to stand up at the sink to wash one singular dish from dinner and I could barely do it. At least I didn’t see the email until after I ate last night because I still have no appetite now.

However bad I’m feeling I know my mom is probably feeling worse. She has been for a while. She’s getting older and my dad is no longer alive. Aside from my brother and one irl friend I still see in person regularly, we have no family or other support system in this country and are well and truly on our own, staring down the barrel of homelessness if we can’t quickly secure a place and move decades worth of our life there before the end of March.

All of this to say, I don’t know what our usual art shenanigans here are going to look like during this time. I am incredibly stressed to the point where I am physically ill but I also can’t pause and step away because I do need the income that I receive from your support of me/my art here. It’s just the reality. I’ve never been particularly Big And Successful with what I do so your support means all the much more and makes a real impact on my life.

I am so sorry if this dampens your mood at all today or if you notice a decrease in the quality of art I’m able to deliver over the next few months but I will try my best to keep things rolling and let you know if there’s any particular delays to expect.

To top it off, I requested a tour of a nearby apartment last night (more expensive than our current) and the name of the person who just texted me back has the same name as our current landlord. Who wants to start taking bets? I know for a fact they own a lot of property in the area so this isn’t looking promising.

Anyways. Sorry for this downer of a post. If we’re not homeless in 2 months then… I dunno. I’ll have somewhere indoors to do art? Yay? You can imagine the housing market we’re dealing with being in California. The prospect of moving at this point has always been one of my biggest fears but we’ll see if we get lucky real fast 😢

If you've ever thought about supporting my Patreon or anything else, now and over the next few months might be a good time if you can swing it. Maybe it'll help us secure a place to move if I can point to it and be like 'Look! A whole income!' 🥲 Idk man.

There's an art update in the (public) post I made if you want to see what we're at least trying to work on for sticker club through all of this.

Mishy

[raineandsky]

Villains are nicer, anyway

#22.2 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

As promised, the young hero doesn’t get drowned in a dirty toilet. He doesn’t get drowned at all, in fact, and spends a lot of time being unexpectedly comfortable in the little room the villain shoved him into.

It isn’t much, really—a small bed and an even smaller cubicle for a toilet and sink. All things considered, he was expecting worse. At least it has running water.

It’s about a week—or he thinks, he stopped counting after five hours, honestly—when the villain graces him with his presence again, looking a little dishevelled and more than a little pissed off.

“Alright, well, I bumped into [Hero],” he greets as he slams the door shut, as if any encounter between heroes and villains is caused by ‘bumping into’ each other. “She’s– wow, she’s a bitch.”

The hero opens his mouth to reply, but he doesn’t manage to get a word in. “Oh right, you’re, like, ten, I shouldn’t swear around you.”

“I’m sixteen,” he reminds the villain flatly. “I’m old enough to say bitch.”

The villain gasps as if he just watched him commit a heinous crime. “Like hell you are! Anyway, you’re getting me off track here.” He clears his throat with a dismissive wave of his hand, leaning back against the metallic door. “Yes, [Hero] is… not nice. I tried to get a word in edgeways, but she was more interested in punching me in the face than talking.”

The hero worries his lip, a question sitting on his tongue anxiously. “What did you, uh…”

“Oh, I was asking about you,” the villain finishes as if he read his mind, “and look. I don’t want to be a downer, but she wasn’t, ah, how do I say this…” He heaves a deep breath, as if he’s thinking carefully about his words. “Well, she didn’t particularly care. She’s not too worried about where you are or what you’re doing. You don’t know enough valuable information to put the agency on the line, so she’s just kind of… indifferent.”

The teen already knew this, deep down. The hero never particularly cared about him when he was there, why would now be any different? She seemed intent on getting rid of him, if anything. He’d always had a glimmer of hope though, that maybe, maybe, someone was looking out for him—but it turns out that his mentor, the one who was meant to be helping him, his entire world, was just genuinely distasteful to his presence, even when he wasn’t there to offer it.

The news isn’t new, but hearing it outright…

The young hero tilts his head down to hide the impending tears, but that doesn’t dampen the heartbroken sniffle that escapes him. He wipes quickly at his eyes, annoyed with himself for showing weakness the moment something goes wrong, but the ones he wipes away are immediately replaced with more. He sits like that for a moment, snivelling and rubbing his eyes with increasing frustration, until he notices a shadow slowly lurking over him. 

“Okay, well, no need to cry. Not like we didn’t know.” the villain snaps, but not without an uncharacteristic lilt of worry. “She’s not exactly nice to me either.”

It takes the hero a moment to notice the white tissue in the villain’s hand, held out towards him, and he takes it a little hesitantly. “Yeah, but she was meant to be on my side.”

The villain hums a sigh, and the mattress sinks slightly as he settles next to the hero. “I think she might just be on her own side.”

The hero snorts, the humour interlaced with dismay, and he carefully dabs his eyes with the tissue. The pair fall into silence—not comfortable, but not entirely awkward either. After a moment the hero feels a gentle hand against his back, almost soothing but janky with inexperience.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” the villain continues with surprising sincerity. “I would prefer to stay on your good side so you actually give me the supposedly useless information you promised.”

The teen huffs a laugh, but it sounds a little too sad. “You telling me what I already knew is nothing compared to being locked in the rain for two hours.”

The silence following is tense. He can imagine the face the villain is pulling. “You stayed there longer than most would in such conditions.”

“I stayed ‘cause I didn’t think I had any other options.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but the villain’s hand moves, his grip oddly strong on his arm.

“No, you stayed because you thought it was the best option. You knew we were here,” he says with fervour. “You showed perseverance in the face of animosity because you thought you had to to be good, but not anymore. You’re here now.”

The villain gets to his feet, and there’s a cold spot on the hero’s arm as he pulls away from him. “Villains could use someone like you. Not many have that kind of strength.” He paces slightly, the movement clumsy in the frankly too small space. “You want in on our side, right?”

The hero nods a little too fast. “I wanted it long before I ever got here.”

The villain turns back to him, his eyes glittering with barely contained excitement. “Do you really want to get your own back on her?”

Taglist: @skys-fantasy

He’s dreamed of making his so-called mentor face the sins she’s committed against him in the name of comedy. “More than anything.”

(Part 3)

[thelaurenshippen]

this month’s mixtape is for Sawyer Watson, one of the protagonists of my queer outlaw western (currently drafting). if you subscribe to my newsletter (linked in the previous sentence), then you’ll have already read these, but for everyone else, my notes:

Similarly to last month's Tex Bullock playlist, I'd never actually written annotations for this playlist, despite the fact that I made it all the way back in 2019. And as I did last month to catch you up if you're new: Desperate Hollow is my currently unpublished queer outlaw romance. Tex Bullock and Sawyer Watson grow up in a gang together before Sawyer shoots Tex and leaves him for dead. Seven years later, they end up in the same dead-end town and have to deal with everything they've never said. 

But. Yeah. 2019. That's when I made the original three playlists for this story (this being the third I've shared, though it was made simultaneously with Tex's). It's odd listening to them now, because the characters they were made for feel like sketched versions of them, rather than the completely filled out people they are now. But they didn't change too much from their original conception, so everything still holds. 

Sawyer does not belong in the life of an outlaw. That's not to say he's bad at it--as Tex swoons over observes when they're in their late teens, Sawyer is exquisitely good at violence, he just hates it. He'd much rather think or talk his way out of a problem, so it's a good thing he's incredibly smart and persuasive. He isn't charismatic in the traditional sense - not flirtatious, but commanding. He knows how to tell a story or express an idea and make people listen. And he's curious about everything - always reading any nonfiction tomes he can get his hands on or learning a new skill. He plays piano beautifully and when he lets himself feel joy it is all encompassing. Sawyer has the reputation for being the one person who can truly rein Tex in, but he doesn't like being viewed as Tex's handler - he doesn't think Tex needs to be handled. Tex, the unholy terror of the West, needs to be protected. Which makes it hurt all the more when Sawyer is the one to shoot him and leave him for dead.

1. "Sad, Sad Song" - M. Ward

This is where Sawyer starts the story--he's been living on his own for seven years, with the assumption that Tex is dead in the ground and that Sawyer is the one who put him there. And there's something so beautifully tragic to me about someone going around and asking the entire universe why their true love is gone. I especially love that idea in the context of Sawyer fully knowing that he's the reason. 

And so I went to my mom/I said "Mama, please, what do you do when your true love leaves?"/She said "the hardest thing in the world to do/Is to find somebody believes in you" - Sawyer, made an orphan in his adolescence, would love nothing more to talk to his mother and father about what's happened. But they, like Tex, are gone, so there's no one left in the world who believes in him.

God, I promise, the whole playlist isn't going to be dour sad songs, I'm realizing now this is sort of a downer opener. Tex's is a lot more energetic throughout and that's because he's the one who basically had to crawl out of his grave. Sawyer's the one who has been living like a ghost himself, weighed down by grief. 

2. "Me and Mine" - The Brothers Bright

This scene isn't really in the book the way it used to be, but the idea of Sawyer - someone who hates violence and has never killed anyone in his life - going completely bonkers scorched earth because someone hurt Tex is one of my favorites to think obsessively about. If anyone else had shot Tex, that person would have absolutely been the first and last victim of Sawyer Watson. But instead, he has only himself to blame and I'm sure he won't punish himself in any kind of really sad and mournful way or anything. 

I'm a man of my word/I will burn your kingdom down/If you try to conquer me and mine - Sawyer is absolutely a man of his word, and he is also definitely deeply possessive. A thing that Tex would be totally normal about of course if he knew. 

3. "House of the Rising Sun" - Lauren O'Connell

What would a moody Americana playlist be without an even moodier cover of this song?

Sawyer is not a gambling man, nor one who drinks to excess, nor does he ever partake in the saloon girls all over the Wild West (he is very, very gay and demisexual - also, I know this song isn't explicitly about sex work as much as it is the other two things, but idk, the first time I heard the phrase "House of the Rising Sun", I just sort of thought of a brothel), but he is the sun to Tex's moon, so I do like that imagery. 

But that's not all - I like that the lyrics have so much about parents - a bit of a running theme for Sawyer, who had parents who were wonderful and actually had an impact (positive) on him. I think Sawyer would see the life he leads after they die as some kind of let down for them - that he's been led into ruin and vice, when they were such upstanding moral people. But, then again, Sawyer wouldn't trade it for anything because his "house of the rising sun" isn't a place or a vice at all, but Tex Bullock, an addiction he'll never give up. 

4. "Jolene" - Mindy Smith

See first bullet on previous song. 

Gay demisexual Sawyer jumps out here in full - Tex is the only one for him and always will be. So he watches Tex - bisexual and promiscuous (I know it's a bad bi stereotype - one that, as a bi person myself, I find deeply annoying but...Tex just enjoys sex. Idk what else to do about it) - go to bed with person after person and just...silently sulks about it for years. One of those "both of these people are so jealous that they're blind to the other's jealousy" situations. 

(It should be noted, if its of interest, that these are the sexualities I see them as having from a writing standpoint but from a story standpoint, it's 1898 so of course they weren't using any of these words. Mostly their sexuality is something demonstrated rather than talked about, which is partly why Tex thinks Sawyer is probably interested in nothing at all).

5. "Take Me to Church" - MILCK

Okay, jeez, this playlist is, like, mostly covers. I love a cover, but this is excessive even for me. 

But there is something inherently queer about this song (originally by Hozier, patron saint of lesbians; also, watch the music video), and I love this female cover that maintains the pronouns, to make it explicitly gay. There was also a half intentional/half subconscious thing of filling Sawyer's playlist with female artists. There's a lot of subtextual gender fuckery in the story (necessary for any good Western in my opinion; see also, last week's newsletter) and whereas Tex is a construct of American masculinity covering up a classic "pretty boy" exterior, Sawyer is classically handsome and strong, but much more comfortable in both his masculinity and femininity. 

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies - I am rotating like a rotisserie chicken about this line when I think of these two. I was going to explain more, but I'm basically already writing out the whole story here, so I'm gonna hold back for now. 

Sawyer grew up going to church and is mostly ambivalent about God now,  but his and Tex's devotion to each other is something holy to him, even when they're just friends.

6. "Lemons" - Brye

A bit of a hard tonal turn, but there needed to be some lightness in the midst of all this angst. This song and the next are representative of those moments when Sawyer tries to remember Tex's frustrating qualities or, eventually, when Tex is back in his life and just as infuriating as ever.

You're a sour little boy, with a fragile masculinity

I've tried to remain patient with your stupid shenanigans/But you've given me no other choice/You've tried to knock me over by acting like you're above me/And pretending that I don't have a voice - this is exactly what Sawyer felt about Tex when they first met and how he feels about a lot of people through the years. Sawyer has very little patience for bullshit. 

7. "High Horse" - Kacey Musgraves

See the last bullet on the previous song. 

Oh, I bet you think you're John Wayne/Showing up and shooting down everybody/You're classic in the wrong way/And we all know that you know the story - see: Tex's playlist featuring "John Wayne" by Lady Gaga

And also, I think Sawyer sometimes feels a little this way - that he kills the buzz by opening his mouth and being practical, that he's too stuck on his high horse to be fun. 

8. "I Walk the Line" - Halsey

Female cover strikes again! 

So. I have a terrible confession to make. I'm not a huge fan of Johnny Cash. Don't get me wrong, I think his songs absolutely rule, I'm just not a huge fan of his vocal style, which is why I end up with a lot of covers of his stuff. 

Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you/because you're mine/I walk the line - now, Sawyer, deeply uninterested in anyone who isn't Tex, doesn't have problems with fidelity (to be fair to Tex, neither would he if he actually had what he wanted with Sawyer - that is a bi stereotype that I just fully hate and, in general, I'm just not interested in cheating storylines), but he's still walking a line. He's walking Barlowe's line. He sees how dedicated Tex is to the gang and even though Sawyer could break out on his own, he stays and follows Barlowe so that he can be by Tex's side. 

9. "Missing Me" - Angie McMahon*

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the line loving you is lonely is just sooooooooooo. Well, that's the whole thing, really. 

This song is about someone who is being ignored by their paramour, so not a perfect 1:1, but the object of affection being someone who swaggers, chatters, talks them to nothing...well! That's Tex! 

And, to get back to the point: loving you is lonely. That's how Sawyer feels. He knows that Tex is devoted to him as a friend and brother-in-arms, but he doesn't think that Tex loves him the way Sawyer loves Tex and that is so lonely. And then, once he's gone, all that Sawyer has is that loneliness and missing Tex and still wishing that, somehow, wherever he is, Tex misses Sawyer too. 

Loving you has thrown me/You have been my only rock on the ground

[cassiecasyl]

i love you berry much

Hi hi!! Did you miss me? Well, it’s Tony’s and my birthday so you know what that means!! I didn’t really feel all that fluffy today so have some hurt/comfort instead :3  read last years’: 2021 2022

The water lapped gently at the docks, driven by the soft spring night wind that was currently also playing with his hair. Peter let the constant rhythm lull him in, let it drown out the noise and laughter from the party behind him. The water slowly approached, running up just to crash against the wooden pillars in a splashing crescendo. Afterward, it always retreated, collecting itself for the next attempt. It was comforting like grass swaying, and familiar like words bouncing around his mouth, never sure when to leave. Like a hand gently tapping on his shoulder. 

A tiny tremor rippled through his body as he awoke. Peter turned and looked up to find Mr. Stark smiling at him. He was holding a brown basket of sorts. “Hey, kiddo, there you are! You were suddenly gone.” 

Peter blinked. The water seemed to have settled in his belly now, lapping at his skeleton. “You noticed?” 

His mentor’s eyebrows scrunched up slightly; maybe, there were rain clouds on the horizon. Peter swallowed and looked down. The rain would only hasten the erosion the lake had already begun. 

“Of course I noticed, Peter,” Mr. Stark said, his voice almost uncharacteristically soft. He settled down next to the boy and sat the basket down in front of them. It was filled with strawberries, Peter noted with confusion. The bright-red fruits shone with the promise of happiness that came with their sweet taste. 

“I will never not notice when my favorite Spiderling goes MIA,” he continued. 

I’m your only Spiderling, Peter wanted to say, but instead of taking the hook for deflection, he said: “I’m sorry.” This only deepened the clouds hanging over Tony’s features, and Peter damned the hail inside his soul. Though, before he could let it swallow him whole, there was a soft tap on his shoulder. Mr. Stark had opened his arms in question. Peter only hesitated a little before he leaned in. A content sigh escaped his lips as his weary body melted into the warm embrace. 

“What are you sorry for?” the man asked eventually. 

Peter hid his face against Mr. Stark’s chest. “For ruining your birthday,” he mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, kid, but you gotta speak up a little. I don’t have your super-hearing, unfortunately.” 

Peter huffed in frustration. His eyes down-trodden, he sat up a little, sucking in air. Mr. Stark rubbed over his shoulder blades in comfort. “I feel like I’m ruining your birthday,” he confessed. When he glanced up, Mr. Stark’s shocked and worried expression made the rain start falling. He was making everything worse. 

Instantly, Tony wrapped his arms around his kid again, rocking them slightly. Like grass swaying in the wind, Peter realized. The man’s heart drummed on in a beat faster than the water, but it was clear and sound. Safe. “No, no, no,” he whispered into Peter’s locks. “What gave you that idea? Did Nebula threaten you? Because I can assure you, she’s working on her violent tendencies.” 

Peter chuckled, and the clouds gave way for a single ray of sunshine. “No. It’s just— Everyone’s celebrating, and I’m just here being a downer and I don’t even know why. I mean, I didn’t even have a gift ready for you!” 

“Peter, listen to me. You being here, alive and in one piece, is the best gift you could ever give me. I don’t care if you gave me a thousand teddy bears or blew up the lab. I’m just glad you’re here.” 

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Peter said. Unconsciously, he had shifted so his ear was lying right over Mr. Stark’s heart. It had slowed a little now, but it was still beating steadily. On and on. No terrible silence in sight. Mr. Stark held him and the world became a little warmer. 

“A thousand teddy bears, huh?” the boy inquired after a while, his voice lighter than it had been in a while. 

“Oh no, don’t get any ideas,” Mr. Stark admonished lightly. “You know, I once gifted Pepper a giant teddy bear. Didn’t go over well…” 

Peter laughed. “You did what?” 

“I gave Pepper a giant teddy bear. It was like 10 feet tall or something. Pep was not amused, to say the least. To be fair, I was not doing great at the time,” he explained. 

“I bet Morgan would love it,” Peter pondered and burst out laughing at Mr. Stark’s pained expression. The man scooped up the bowl of strawberries and placed it into Peter’s hands. 

“Now, no more teddy bear shenanigans. Eat some. I know you haven’t eaten near enough at dinner and spiders gotta eat.” Peter blinked and took a strawberry. 

“Why do you even have these?” — he asked while munching — “I mean, is it even safe? Pepper’s allergic, and you always say Morgan comes after her.” 

“Because you like them,” Mr. Stark said as if it was the simplest thing. “And don’t worry, Morgan’s not allergic, she just prefers different fruits. I did get Pepper’s permission for once, too.” 

“Oh, wow, I’m proud!” Peter half-joked. “Also, Morgan is wrong because strawberries are clearly the best. My condolences to Mrs. Potts-Stark.” Tony chuckled and took one himself, quickly evading Peter’s wavy hands. 

“Thank you,” Peter said. 

Tony smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Anytime, kid.” 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, with Peter munching on his strawberries. The water continued to dance with the pillars, keeping up their rhythm. When most of the strawberries were gone, Peter considered the last ones carefully. He took one out, the biggest that was left, and presented it to the man beside him. 

“Mr. Stark? I love you berry much.” 

To Tony’s credit, he did not only roll his eyes at the pun, but also snorted. He took the strawberry with a thanking nod and bit into it. After it was gone, he pulled the kid close again and kissed the top of his head. “I love you strawberry much too, il mio bambino.” 

[thatsalrightprettymama]

If By Chance

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken so long to finish and post @navia3000 , but here's your request! Sorry it's taken a bit but on the last day of the festival I got taken out by a crowd surfer and sprained my neck and landed a concussion lol 😂, so with my neck brace it's a little awkward to do somethings lol. I hope you liked it! I'm sorry you wasn't well emotionally, so I hope you're better! 💙 I also hope you like the fic! For once I decided to end it fluffy instead of angsty 😂.

Word Count:4,493

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, cussing. (If I missed any let me know! :) )

Going to the Met Gala was surreal, and you were thankful that Cole had asked you to go with him, but you couldn’t help but feel your chest cave in when you saw him. Despite it almost being a year, your heart still broke when you looked across the sea of people and saw Austin kiss Kaia. Your broke away from the scene when you feel Cole squeeze your hand, tearing your eyes away you look to see him giving you a knowing look and sad smile before you two head inside. “I know there’s always one that got away, and we’re not serious, but try to just focus on me and having a fun night. “ Cole comfortingly tells you as you get into the gala. “I promise for just a fuck buddy you’re gonna have the best date of your life.” He promises as he bumps your shoulder making you smile. “You’re not just a fuck buddy, you’re also oddly my best friend.” You comment with a small smile as you bump his shoulder back before adding, “I’m sorry it’s stupid, but I promise I won’t be a Debbie Downer tonight.” You feel him wrap his arm around your shoulder as you two head towards the bar before he tells you, “Nothing to be sorry for and it’s not stupid. Though if it helps, I’m sure he’s hating seeing you with me of all people.” Cole tells you with a smile as you reach the bar, ordering you two your drinks he leans against the bar and stares at you. “I don’t understand your insistence that Austin hates you.”  You tell him as you two grab your drinks. “We only get along for Ashley and you.” He comments as he takes a drink, making you shake your head. “Whatever, but lets forget about him and focus on tonight. “ You comment before taking a drink from your own. “Did you see what Blake Lively was wearing? I swear she’s so gorgeous.” You ask changing the subject making Cole give you a half smile.

You two stand at the bar and talk a bit before you two go and find your table. You smile as Cole pulls your chair out for you making you giggle as you sit. “Alright, have you two pulled a switch-a-roo on me and your really Dylan? Cole’s never this much of a gentleman.” You joke as he sits next to you making him smile at you and roll his eyes. “Three things. First that was cheesy and I don’t know how you didn’t cringe while saying that. Two, I’m always a perfect gentleman and you don’t appreciate that enough. Three it may also have to do more with there’s cameras everywhere so I can’t look like a bad date.” He teasingly tells you making you nudge him. You two quickly fall into conversation as you wait for the dinner to start. Soon you forget Austin’s presence for a bit and start to enjoy your time with Cole. Your conversation is briefly interrupted when they start to bring out the first course. Your all smiles and giggle during dinner as Cole and you quietly make fun of the unique and weird plating and food as dinner goes on. Before the end of dinner, you’re feeling pretty great, and are fully starting to enjoy your night. You almost forget about Austin being there until you’re dancing with Cole. Feeling someone’s eyes on you, your turn your head to glance around and you find familiar blue eyes watching you. Before you could think more of it Cole spins you around before leaning his head down to your ear. “Let him stare, don’t let him ruin your night. “ He tells you over the music and crowd as you two dance. “I know he’s the one that got away, I understand that, but it’s been almost two years don’t let him have hold of anymore of your life or time. He gave that up when he ended it.” Cole tells you before leaning back up, nervously you bite your lip and stare into the honest caring eyes of your friend before nodding.

Giving Cole a half smile you attempt to but your focus back on him and dancing. It works for a bit again until you leave Cole to get a drink at the bar. Waiting on your cocktail you hear a familiar raspy voice ask behind you, “So, you and Cole then? How long did he wait to make a move, a day?” Hearing the snide tone you turn to Austin angrily. “Yes me and Cole. Also do you really have any right to ask or fucking care?” You snap at him, watching his eyebrows slightly raise not used to you taking that tone with him. “I just think it proves that I was right about him.” He snidely snips back after a moment, igniting anger inside you. While yes it was mostly due to him being a dick about Cole, who outside of the sexual aspect of your friendship, has been one of your best friends for years. Cole has been there for you before and after Austin. Though some anger also came from how dare he of all people have an issue with you being with someone else. “No, I think you’re just proving Cole right about you.” You snap at him as the bartender places your drink down. “Also, I think you’re the last fucking person that can say anything about me being with anyone. You and Kaia seemed to find each other not long after you told me you needed to find yourself with no attachments.” You angrily but honestly tell him after taking a drink watching his plush lips pull downwards into a frown. “You know what? No.” You suddenly say not giving Austin a chance to say anything before you continue to angrily spit, “I’m going to go enjoy my night, I suggest you do the same.” Taking a drink you stalk back towards Cole, forcing the scowl off your face as you get closer to the floor, ignoring the feeling of Austin’s stare as you walk off. Reaching Cole you wrap you arms around him, still fired up you smile and quickly tell him, “Just go with it.”, before crashing your lips into his. While over the past few months you shared many kisses with Cole, this one was different. It was harsh angry and passionate, and after a brief moment you feel his hands grip your hips as he returns it. “Y’know I think I might just start pissing you off myself if that’s what I get when your angry.” Cole jokes as you two break apart for air making you throw your head back and laugh. “If you’re the cause, I don’t think it’ll work out like you’re thinking but I’m glad to know you liked it.” You flirtatiously joke as you two begin to sway as the next song begins at a slower tempo. “While I won’t complain about that kiss, you ok though? Do I need to actually cause a TMZ moment?” He asks staring down at you as you two continue to sway. Biting your lip you nod. “Yeah, I just didn’t expect him to piss me off that much. Plus I kinda wanted to give him something to see. I finally see what you mean about you two not liking each other now.” You tell him as you give him a half smile as you two slowly dance. “Though you’d really cause a TMZ moment for me? I’m honored.” You tease as Cole spins you as you giggle before pulling you back closer to him. “Only for you, Ashley, and Brenda.” He quickly quips his answer back making you shake your head. “Not Dylan?” You ask smiling making him shake his head. “Pfft Dylan’s his own man, he can handle his own situations.” He playfully scoffs making you shake your head. “I don’t get how you can be mean to the sweet one.” You tease making him scoff again. “I don’t know why people think he’s sweet, he’s a little shit.” He comments as you two dance, and it wasn’t long that you started to enjoy your night again.

The hours pass and you enjoy your time with Cole as the time begins to fly by. You don’t think about Austin until you run into him at the bar again. You were waiting on your drink again when you hear his voice again. “Y/N? Can we talk?” He asks making you turn to him, remembering what happened just hours ago you glance him over before asking, “Are you going to be a dick?”. You watch as he runs his hand through the back of his hair as he bites his lip. “No, I-Uh actually wanna apologize about that.”  He admits as he shuffles his feet and reminds you of the Austin you knew. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to comment about you and Cole and I also shouldn’t have let our first time talking in awhile go that bad.” He apologizes to you and looking at him you could tell he was sincere. “I accept your apology, and I’m sorry for my part too. I didn’t help getting snippy back.”  You tell him softly as you glance at him, there’s a brief pause before Austin says something that completely shocks you. “ I also wanna apologize for how I ended things. I should also apologize for a lot of things I put you through.” Shocked you watch him run his hand through his hair as he looks at you with honest and guilty eyes. “I’m sure you’re not solely to blame, and you didn’t really put me through a lot Aus.” You say instinctively trying to comfort him causing him to shake his head. “No, No Y/N. I did put you through a lot when I was filming Elvis, and you took it all in stride. “ He tells you baring a part of himself to you after all the time apart. “Then I selfishly and stupidly ended our relationship, hurting you which is something I never wanted to do.” He continues to confess, squeezing your heart with every word. “Austin, you don’t need to do this h-“ You begin to tell him before he interrupts you. “No, I need to do this here cause I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to run into you again.” Austin tells you with a slight firm edge to his voice making you bite your lip as you stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m sorry for ending things like I did, and just walking away. I’m also sorry for the selfish things I’m about to say.” Austin continues as he furthers your shock and piques your curiosity. “I’ve been watching you all night, and I regret ending things. I should’ve realized sooner that I should have let you in and talk about how I was losing myself. You would have stood by me and help me, and I’d still have the best thing that’s ever been in my life. I’d still have you.” Austin honestly bares himself to you, and while it was everything you’ve wanted to hear since you two split up, it was crushing your heart. “Austin, I don’t know where this is coming from but you have Kaia.” You point out to him as your emotions and thoughts begin to swirl. “This is coming from months of me being ignorant and not being honest with myself, or anyone even Kaia.” He tells you as he bites his plush lips. “I’m ending things with Kaia, it was wrong and selfish to jump into another relationship, especially when I really hadn’t gotten over my feelings for you.” He admits his words fueling the conflicting internal battle going on inside you. “Why, why are you telling me this now Austin? Why now, instead of months ago?” You ask him after a moment as you stare at him. “Because I’ve watched you with Cole this whole night thinking that it should be me.” He honestly answers squeezing your heart. “I’ve watched you smile, dance, and kiss with him thinking of how much a fucking fool I’ve been and that it kills me to see someone else making you smile like that when it should be me.”

“I-I don’t know what to say Austin.” You start to tell him as your mind swirls. “I’ve wanted to hear everything you’ve said since the moment I left Australia.”  You admit to him as you start to feel overwhelmed. “But now that I’m finally hearing it, I-I just don’t know how I feel about it.” You continue to admit as you chew your lip. “One hand I know how you feel, every picture I saw of you and Kaia crushed me or every picture Ashley showed me of Juniper that had you broke me, and all I’ve wanted was to have you back.” You painfully admit, watching Austin’s eyes flicker at your honesty. “But now that I’m finally hearing it, I can’t just jump into your arms. You broke me Austin. For weeks I walked around like a hollow shell till Cole and Dylan forced me out of my apartment. Then I’ve spent the past few months getting back to myself.” You emotionally ramble out, taking the moment to be just as honest with him as he was with you. Austin’s lips turn slight down as he bites his lip at your words, hating them but needing to hear them. “I-I’m sorry I put you through that, but I have to know is there any chance at all that I can have a place in your life again?” He asks you after a moment, your emotions flaring strongly in you as you inhale at his words. “I don’t know, maybe?” You rush out as your emotions overwhelm you more. “I-I can’t do this here, I-I have to leave.”  You blurt out before rushing past him, not seeing his reaction as you scurried off to find Cole.

“C-Can we leave?” You ask him as soon as you get to him, and as Cole turns around his eyes instantly fill with concern. “Of course.” He instantly answers as he wraps and arm around you and begins to lead you through the crowd. “Are you ok? Did something happen?” You bite your lip before you just say, “Not here, please when we get outta hear.”  He nods and continues to lead you to the exit, once you finally get into a car he waits a few minutes before asking you again, “Are you ok? Did something happen?” He softly asks as you two head back to your apartment. “I-I ran into Austin again….he apologized for earlier, but he also talked about somethings.” You begin to shakily explain as your emotions continued to swirl inside you, each conflicting feeling and thought continuing to rattle your nerves. “What did he talk about?” Cole softly asks you placing a comforting hand on yours. “You know despite everything I’m your best friend first, and I’m here to listen or talk about anything. “ He gently says as you pause, trying to gently coax you to continue. “I know, I know you are Cole. It’s just it’s crazy.” You begin with a sigh, starting to open up, “He-He apologized for ending things, and basically asked if there was a chance if we’d be together again after we went back and forth some.” You emotionally admit as you hear him softly sigh. “How do you feel about that?” He asks as you chew on your lip. “I don’t know Cole. Part of me wants to go back there and instantly tell him yes and I shouldn’t have scurried off, another part of me wants to do the complete opposite and get as far away from him as I can in a sense. I love him so much but I don’t know if I could handle throwing myself back into the captivating love that he has just to be broken again. Or what if I say yes and I ruin things cause I get too scared it’s going to end?” You ramble to your best friend as your driven through the city.

“Does that fear really outweigh that want? I’ve watched you struggle to try to get over him Y/N.” Cole tells you softly before giving you hand a soft squeeze. “I know how much you love him, you can try to say you still don’t or that it’s going away, but we both know it’s not. I know it can be terrifying when thinking of all the what ifs, but what would feel worse? Getting back together again and giving it another try to find out that maybe you aren’t really meant to be together, or wondering what would happen if you never took the chance?” He asks you after a pause, making you give him a shaky smile before you sigh as you absorb and mull over his question. “Honestly? I think wondering, never really knowing if we were meant to be despite everything, or that maybe we just really wasn’t but at least we tried.” You softly answer as your eyes begin to burn after a long pause. “I’m scared though Cole, if there’s a next time how will I pick myself up again?” You ask as you nervously fidget with his hand. “I know really deep down I want him back, I want that chance, but that hurt it kind of leaves a mark.” You admit to him and he pauses for a moment before he starts to speak. “Look at me Y/N.” He softly commands making you lift your head. “First of all, as hard as it is put that possibility in the back of your mind. Don’t think about it. “ He tells you giving you a comforting smile before continuing, “Just take that chance a day at a time, and even if it does end up happening, you won’t be alone. You’ll still have me and Dylan. You picked yourself up once, you’ll do it again. You’re a lot stronger that what you think you are ladybug.” You give a soft chuckle at your childhood nickname before nudging him with a soft smile. “Thank you Cole, I swear our friendship might not be normal, but you’re the best friend I could ever ask for. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You admit pulling him into a side hug as he smiles. “You’d probably be less cool. “ He jokes smiling at you as you two reach you apartment.

Getting out of the uber, Cole walks you to you apartment. “I’d give it a day or two to really think, even though we both know what you’re gonna do, and I’d call him to meet up.” Cole softly tells you as you two reach your door. “Also give it a day or two to let him sweat it out, I think he deserves that.” He adds with a laugh before you two say goodnight. Getting into the apartment you change out of your dress and plop onto your bed with a sigh. You sit there thinking about everything until you turn off the lights and go to bed. Listening to Cole’s advice you wait two days before you decide to reach out to Austin. You stare at his contact in your phone for a few minutes before you nervously hit the call button. Listening to the phone ring you bite your lip when he picks up on the second one. “Hello, Y/N?” You hear his voice softly rasp over the phone. “Hey Austin, yeah it’s me.” You nervously say as you chew on your lip. “I-I uh I’ve been thinking about the other night…” You softly begin as you begin to pace, padding your feet across the cold tile of your kitchen. “I have too.” Austin comments as you continue to pace. “I-Is there any way we can uh meet up or you come over and we can talk about it?” You nervously ask after a pause, listening to him inhale as you chew your lip. “Of course, if you would want I can come over?” Austin softly asks trying not to sound eager. “Um where do you live now?” He asks after a moment, showing a glimpse of his nerves. “Um I live on 10th now, I can uh send you the address?” You ask taking a pause in you steps as your briefly reminded again of how much has changed. Shaking your head you two softly, but awkwardly say goodbye and you send him your address.  Nervously you glance around your apartment and compulsively tidy up some, though really it was more trying to purge some of your nervous energy, as you waited for Austin to come over.

The apartment tidied up, you nervously look around your apartment before you hear your buzzer. Going to your door you hit the button and ask, “Austin?” biting your lip you can’t stop the smile as he confirms. Buzzing hum up you nervously wait near the door for him to come up. After a few moments you hear him knock and you nervously answer the door to see him shyly smiling on the other side. “Hey, uh come in.” You shyly tell him leading him into your apartment. “Nice place you have, it reminds me of that apartment you had in Manhattan.” Austin comments as he walks in, still holding the familiar shy smile. “Thanks, and yeah that’s part of what hooked me when I viewed it.” You answer as you two head towards the living room. “Do you want a water or something?” you nervously ask him giving him a small smile. “No, but thank you though.” He answers as he runs a hand through his hair. “So, uh you wanted to talk about what  happened at the Met?” Austin nervously asks after a moment as you fiddle with your hands. “Yeah I did, I actually wanted to talk about what you asked…” You tell him as you sit down, taking your hand to motion for him to sit too. You watch him sit down as he stares at you chewing on his soft bottom lip. “Did you really mean any of it?” You nervously ask, watching him instantly nod. “Yes, I swear I meant every word Y/N.” Austin tells you softly before continuing. “I really am sorry for everything, and making the biggest mistake of my life.” You bite your lip as you look and see the honesty shinning through his blue eyes. “Did you really mean it when you wanted to know if there was another chance at us?” You ask fidgeting with your hands as you stare into his eyes, your heart hammering inside you. “I-I did, and I do want to know cause if there is I’ll do anything to have you back into my life.” He admits as he stares back at you, his blue eyes swimming with emotions.

“I want you back into my life too….I’ve wanted that since we split.” You softly admit to him, hope flashing across his eyes at your words.” I still love you Austin, even after all these months, and no matter what I did I really couldn’t get over you..” You continue to admit, starting to bare your unfiltered thoughts. “There is a chance for you in my life if you want it Austin, but despite me still loving you and wanting you in my life I don’t think we can- I can- just go back like the past few months never happened….” You tell him after a pause, nervously watching his reaction as he chews on his lip and  his brows furrow slightly at your admission, slightly confused and worried that the conversation may not really be what he was hoping. Though before he could say anything you continue on as he watches you nervously fidget. “I-Is there anyway we can kind of start over? Kind of like starting fresh?” You softly ask him biting your lip as you briefly wait for his answer. “Of course, if that’s what it takes we can start over, and I get why you would want that.” Austin tells you scooting forward in his seat. “While I want more than anything to pick up where we left off, seeing you before I go to sleep and seeing you when I wake up.” He tells you as he blue eyes stare into your eyes, his words bittersweet as they tug at your heart. “I also know that even if we still love each other and aren’t over each other, we’ve been apart for awhile and time always changes things.” He adds making you sigh in relief and your nerves settle some as you realize he gets it. “Thank you, and that’s exactly it Austin. As much as I want to pick up where we left off, there’s been some time.” You tell him giving him a small smile, relaxing a bit more as you watch a smile light his face.

“No thank you, Y/n.” He tells you with a smile before adding, “Thank you for calling me and giving me another chance. After you rushed off at the Met I thought I wouldn’t here from you let alone have you actually take me back. “ Austin’s honest admission hits your heart and your lips briefly turn down. “I’m sorry for running off like that. Also I’d be crazy to not give you another chance Austin and throw away a chance at being with you.” You admit to him causing him to gently reach out and grab your hand, the action making butterflies begin to stir, you almost forgot what his touch felt like. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I probably shouldn’t have done it there but I’m glad I did.” Feeling the familiar callouses that you’ve longed to feel made those butterflies twirl and swirl inside you more. “I’m glad you did too.” You comment as you give his hand a gentle squeeze, watching the sides of his mouth turn up into a smile. “I really have missed you.” He tells you before flirtatiously adding, “I-I’ve also missed your lips, can I kiss you?” You giggle as his cheesy word continue to cause the butterflies to stir. “Mhmm even though that’s probably the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me, yes.” You tell him with a giggle before leaning in, as you felt his soft plush lips press against yours you could have sworn you felt goosebumps. Breaking apart you two softly smiled at each other, and while you sat on your couch with him you couldn’t have been any happier. While you didn’t know what your future would hold, and the fear still hovered in the back of your mind, you were so glad to have Austin back into your life.

[walkawaytall]

Trick or Treat!👻🎃

Happy Halloween!

I don't know if this is a trick or a treat, but, uh, hey, did y'all know that the original ending for Collateral was way more of a bummer than it ended up being? I had this whole idea about Han actively and consciously trying to get Leia to hate him so it wouldn't hurt as bad when he left or something (like, this wasn't subconscious self-sabotage, which I can get behind. This was a deliberate callback, which you'll see at the end of this excerpt, to him telling her in chapter two that she has to be alive to hate him), but it seemed a little too dramatic and the ending was such a downer that I changed it and totally overhauled the epilogue, which I'd written well before I finished writing the story.

(I won't lie: I like the final epilogue, but the phrases "luxury of indifference" and "wielded carelessness like a weapon" both slap and I should probably use them somewhere else.)

Anyway, here's the original epilogue. Forgive the excessive use of italics. I overused them a ton in Collateral.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

She had to hate him. She thought often of the luxury of indifference, of the beauty in being able to drift in and out of others’ lives without being affected. Han had perfected the art, clearly, but Leia could not. She wasn’t strong enough to not care, so she had to hate him. She converted affection to vitriol to keep herself afloat, twisting old jokes into barbs intended to maim. Someday, she promised herself, someday she would feel nothing toward the man, but until then, there was hate.

The first step to feeling nothing was to temper her reactions. If she could project the indifference she longed for, she would eventually feel it. If he believed her indifferent, she might fall for the ruse herself.

Leaving was on the table again. He hadn’t told Leia himself, but she’d overheard him tell Rieekan. When she’d caught his gaze across the Command Center, he’d lashed out. She’d been taken aback. He wasn’t supposed to care. He’d said he’d never cared.

Following him into the south passage had been a mistake; it had betrayed her hand. She couldn’t very well fake indifference when she was following him around demanding to know why he was leaving.

He’d brought up her feelings for him as if he’d been the one betrayed, as if she’d broken his heart. Leia knew the hurt was written all over her face. Why are you bringing this up? You said you never cared.

She’d managed to feign ignorance, to say things she knew would hurt anyone who actually cared. She told herself they wouldn’t hurt him. Han had said he’d never cared. His reactions said otherwise.

She’d always known he was a liar.

*****

He needed her to hate him. Anything less than that, and he risked her looking for him. He needed her to hate him, so he did what did best: wielded carelessness like a weapon and hoped it was enough to force her to keep her distance.

He needed her to hate him, so why did it hurt so badly?

It was the ease with which she transitioned to cool indifference that stung the most. Hate he was prepared for; hate had been the goal. And though he went about each day as if they were barely acquaintances, he hadn’t expected her to do the same quite so easily. She’d surprised him once again, and he wondered if he’d broken her or if she’d never cared as much as she’d said.

Maybe he’d been an escape, just like their last trip together. She hadn’t come to him because of who he was, but rather where he was headed. Maybe she’d realized once he was done paying her any attention that she’d never really cared for him.

It was an unfair expectation — that she not be allowed to protect herself with indifference the way he often did — but Han couldn’t stop himself from lashing out at times. When he’d told General Rieekan he was finally making good on his hundreds of promises to leave, he knew she’d heard — the Command Center wasn’t a large room and his voice carried. It wasn’t as if she’d been oblivious to his presence; she’d looked straight at him as he’d entered. Her lack of reaction cut him to the core and Han couldn’t hide his bitterness.

Then she’d come after him and he’d been immature and pompous in ways in ways he found regrettable immediately. The expression on Leia’s face said it all: Why are you doing this? Han didn’t know himself, and he hated himself when he saw her flinch at his mockery. Without a solid target for his hurt, he allowed himself to continue in his immaturity, goading her further. If she hated him, fine.

She had to stay alive in order to hate him.

Trick or treat!

[corpocyborg]

i'll take a #9, #15, and #30 for valerie!

Thanks for the questions!

Ask game here.

I decided to try something different here, so I'm letting Valerie answer the questions herself this time.

09 favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?

"Ah, food," she said. "Something I can definitely empathize with Goro on—I appreciate high quality food."

"My favorite food is sushi. Goro was extremely wary the first time I invited him over to try a meal from my favorite sushi restaurant. I hadn't ordered from there in long time—too expensive after I lost my Arasaka salary—but I saved up in the hopes that I might impress him and maybe remind him of home. It actually paid off. He admitted there might be some decent food in Night City after all." She shrugged slightly. "I didn't mention it's technically imported."

"But despite my appreciation for good food, there's not much that I'd really be unwilling to eat. I don't have a least favorite food because... well, having a least favorite anything is just kind of a downer. I don't let myself get down about the state of the modern world. Yeah, I may have to eat pepperoni made out of locusts unlike the beef and pork my ancestors had access to, but I have access to technology that can let me dodge bullets. Honestly, it's a worthy trade-off. So, no, I'm not a picky eater. Oh, and I don't have any dietary restrictions either."

15 how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?

“When I was 11, my parents died,” she started. “Collateral damage of some robbery. It was unexpected. We lived in Charter Hill—wealthy neighborhood, pretty safe overall.” 

She paused, taking time to choose her words carefully.

“I lived in a government-run orphanage for a while. Fuckin’ shithole. Not for long, though. I had excellent grades. Had extracurriculars, leadership qualities, all that shit that looks good on a college application. And most importantly, both of my parents had held mid-level positions at Arasaka. I was 13 when they offered me a fast track that would eventually lead to the Academy in Night City. Apparently they keep an eye on the children of former employees, if they’re promising anyway.” 

“Look,” she continued. “My parents were good people. They loved me. But they were always… massively overprotective. Wouldn’t let me get any cyberware before I was 16, even though a lot of studies show you actually adapt better if you get it young. Wouldn’t let me get an after school job, even though there haven’t been child labor laws since before I was born. That kinda thing. A lot of corpos want their kids to follow in their footsteps, but to be honest, I don’t think my parents did.”

“Now, Arasaka Academy was completely different.” She grew excited, and she started speaking faster and more insistently. “They definitely didn’t coddle us there. A lot of our combat training was in virtuos, so we couldn’t actually be damaged, but they didn’t filter out the pain. Need something to motivate you to avoid getting shot at, don’t you? And cyberware? Well, we didn’t get it for free, but you could earn it. That and other kinds of useful prizes if you got first place in some exam or training exercise. Got my first pair of Kiroshi that way. The best part was, once you started earning cyberware, you tended to have an advantage against the students who didn’t have any yet. If you could get the proper momentum, it became easier to keep yourself near the top.”

She’d said all that so quickly that she needed to pause for breath.

“The only problem was sometimes I’d wonder if I should feel guilty. If it was wrong of me to be happier now that my parents were dead. But I was. It didn't take long for me to feel like Arasaka was my real family.”

30 do they smell like anything notable?

"Definitely cigarette smoke, for starters. Must be impossible for the scent not to cling to me with how often I smoke. But besides that, I think I mostly just smell clean. I don't really expect my scent would be particularly notable to most people."

[the-commonplace-book]

Bobby Catesby/Julia Chaney

Send me a ship for the ship bingo chart: Bobby Catesby / Julia Chaney ( We Happy Few )

Ooo okay this one is really interesting and I have Thoughts™

Bobby Catesby, also known as the Shady Dealer, is the funky little guy who sells you black market good from a dumpster in the Village. Julia Chaney is the Wellette who tried to make her own homebrew drugs, screwed up the chemistry, and ended up murdering her entire household in a drug-induced violent outburst. 

Julia buys the bulk of her chemistry ingredients from Stewart Adams’ shop, but there are bound to be things even he can’t get his hands on. I could see her going to Bobby for anything she couldn’t get the chemist’s. 

One of the more interesting points about Julia is that, from her notes, she can surmise she’s trying to cook up a homebrew Sunshine due to the price of buying it direct from Sally. While Bobby sells some of the stuff himself, it’s likely around the same price as Sally’s (if not marked up). 

There’s an implication there that Julia Chaney was either off her Joy or trying to be. While it’s unclear whether it’s a conscious choice, or if she started having a poor reaction to Joy and was trying not to be sent off to the Garden District, I find the later more interesting. But regardless, the fact remains that for whatever reason Sunshine has become a necessity in her life, and her pockets aren’t very deep.

I could see her going to ol’ Catesby’s dumpster shop now and then for ingredients and for any odds and ends she can’t acquire elsewhere. They strike up little conversations and a friendly sort of fondness grows between them. They’re both Wellies with a touch  more self-awareness about the state of things than their neighbors, but neither are willing to give up the minor comforts of the Village to give up the Joy act and go full Downer. 

While they don’t ever speak about it bluntly (they are still Wellies), Bobby becomes someone Julia can talk to about her minor grievances with the state of the world. There’s never enough to eat. Toxic fumes blocked the way to her friend’s house and she missed her Rummy game. Her husband has been more and more insufferable the longer she’s been on the yellow pill. Has he always been like this? It’s better than being alone and, without her allowance from him, she won’t be able to scrape together enough for food, much less Sunshine. And then she’ll be off to the Garden District or taken away by some doctor. 

Every time she visits, Bobby always manages to get a sale out of it, even if she’s just stopping by for a chat. He is running a business after all. But he does enjoy their little chats and gives her a special deal if she’s having a particularly bad day. 

Julia’s a bit more fond of him than she should be, considering her husband. While nothing would ever come of it, their feelings towards each other aren’t romantic, but aren’t strictly platonic either. He’d cut her even more of a deal on sales if he could, but then he’d be making no profit at all and he does have a business to run. 

The last time Bobby Catesby sees Julia Chaney, she in good spirits. She doesn’t want to spill the beans, but she does let on that she got her hands on something that is sure to turn things around in her life (Sally's chemistry notes). No more penny pinching for Sunshine in her future. He tells her that’s brilliant news and cracks a joke about how he hopes this doesn’t mean he’ll be losing her as a customer. She says if it all works out, she’ll have the means to be his biggest customer yet.

They wish each other a lovely day and a promise to chat again next week. 

Next week roles around and Julia hasn’t stopped by the dumpster shop. Another week the same.

Word on the street is that the Chaneys have gone on holiday and the Mrs. is to blame.

Bobby Catesby’s business carries on as usual, but he misses their little chats, and wonders if that new venture of hers is what finally sent her full Downer, poor thing. 

[trialbystory]

On Death of the Author

So there's a, to use the marketing jargon, 'highly-anticipated' game about a certain fictional school of magic that's also been getting a bunch of negative press that is, depending on who you ask, either blown out of proportion, wholly misplaced, or completely damning. And since it comes out in roughly a week, here's what I think about the question of whether or not it's okay to like things that were created by bad people. Y'know, if you're interested in my personal take.

So Hogwarts Legacy, amirite? A game set to finally deliver on the long-held fantasy of so many kids from my generation of not only being a Witch or Wizard, but going to Hogwarts and getting to use your magic to be the Big Damn Hero. But also a game pretty heavily surrounded by controversy; the original lead designer left/was removed after outrage over his social media posts and his involvement in an anti-SJW youtube channel, the game's story appears to revolve around putting down the in-universe historic rebellion of a certain class of magical creatures that in the books' modern era are just kind of casually oppressed, and one particular element of the story drew comparisons from some to literal Nazi propaganda. Oh, and the whole fact that one J.K. Rowling turns out to be pretty hostile to trans folks. And yet this game is still at or near the top of a lot of people's must-play lists for this year. Is it okay to still want the game? I mean, buying it supports the devs, right? But I guess the devs got their paycheck for doing their job, J.K.'s the one who'll be getting sales-based royalties. But at this point she's a multimedia duchess, not buying a copy of this one game is a drop in the bucket to her. And round and round it goes. All aboard the logic train, Choo Choo!

Ultimately, from where I'm standing, there's not a strict answer. Everyone's gotta find their own line in the sand. And it's going to vary from situation to situation. I haven't felt the desire to watch FireFly since all the stuff came out about Joss Whedon harassing people on set and being 'casually cruel' to the women he worked with. I refuse to watch the several PPVs each year WWE holds in Saudi Arabia, but I still watch their normal product.

Roosterteeth turns out to have been a kind of terrible company, with scandals or awful people or both having come out of pretty much all their outward-facing departments at this point, but I still love RWBY.

And yeah, I've been a Harry Potter fan nearly all my life (though if we're being honest I personally think the Circle of Magic books by Tamora Pierce are the better story about magically-inclined children and young adults), but when it came out that J.K. was an utter shitbird I pretty much stopped engaging with the official media at all. I like the world and I enjoy reading various fanfics, but I haven't gone back to reread the actual books, or revisited any of the movies, and I don't really have the same enthusiasm for this game that a lot of people seem to.

I've always been a proponent of the idea that the creator is separate to their creation, but sometimes there's stuff that I can't ignore. And yeah, what that tipping point is for me may not exactly be consistent, but to me it just makes sense that it should be taken on a case-by-case basis. There's too many moving parts to generalize it.

At the end of the day, all of us make our own bargain with the grim realities of consumption. I won't be buying Hogwarts Legacy. I have a friend who's on the fence but probably will be. This won't kill our friendship, we've just come to different decisions on where the line is, and we understand each other's reasoning. Next time I do one of these walls of text I promise it won't be such a downer.