#man would’ve folded right then and there without that cig

[steddielations]

steve: *takes off his shirt*

eddie, immediately:

[vaultsexteen]

It was close to 5 in the morning right now, but it wasn’t like anyone could tell - Alaska was always dark as shit, doubly so when snowstorms blotted out the sky, and Skinny Dick’s eyes were so shot to hell that he had a tough time even when the sun was out. Which was why at Skinny Dick’s Inn, the lights always stayed on, 24/7; it was a beacon for any weary travelers going down the old highways leading up to Fairbanks, and it helped Dick not stumble into any of the stuffed animals when he wanted to go to the old outhouse to take a leak.

Now, as a bartender, he’d seen his fair share of folks who were down and out on their luck: mercs after a job gone bust, people with barely a cap to their name trying to stave off frostbite, that kind of thing. A lot of them came through Skinny Dick’s bar, and most of them got a room at the inn and went away by the next day, off to the next job - or the next bar, if they weren’t so lucky.

He’s been kind of wracking his brain with this latest one, though - a ghoul in a fancy brahmin-leather overcoat and gloves had come in, and she’d rented a room for a whole week. Usually, she’d go out, come back and buy a lot of the hard stuff, go to her room for the night, and return the bottles in the morning. After a few days, it looks like she opted to stay at the bar this time; in fact, she’d been at the bar all day, chatting up the other customers and even getting a bit friendly with a couple of them. Right now, as he was tidying up for the morning, she was sat at the far end of the bar nursing her sixth bottle of Skinny Dick’s Special Hooch, looking like she was gonna burn a hole in the cabin with nothing but her stare. He’d put a few plays on the jukebox, for his sake as much as hers - it was pretty hard to be sad to Let The Good Times Roll, after all.

Positioning himself behind the bar to take stock of whatever spirits he still had left, he figured that he might as well try to check up on the tenant. “Anything else I can get’cha?”

She shakes her head, and smirks. “Nah. You can take this one back,” she said, raising the now-empty bottle triumphantly.

A bottle of Special Hooch was enough to get a ghoul drunk, and six bottles were probably enough to give even a ghoul alcohol poisoning, but she’d gone through all of them like they were water and she didn’t seem any more wasted for it. Skinny Dick didn’t know whether to feel impressed, terrified, or just sad about that; he just nodded and took the bottle, then stashed it under the bar to take back to the still later.

Meanwhile, the tenant had taken out a small, colorful glass pipe and a lighter from her coat, and then lit the pipe. A smell that was something between rubbing alcohol and battery acid began to fill the air as she took a few puffs.

“What’s that, there?” he asked, mostly curious. No way in hell it could be tobacco, and if it was some kind of mutated strain of weed, it was really mutated.

The acid smoke formed a small cloud around her as she laughed. “Got the recipe from out west,” she says, “from a bunch of ghouls in… where was it?” She turns the pipe over, and smiles. “Mexico, I think. Yanks call it smooch.”

“Smells like an energy cell shit itself,” he chuckles. “Jesus, what’s in that?”

Her smile widens. “Hey, irradiated cave fungus and Abraxo can do wonders. You should try it for yourself,” she says, holding out the pipe.

Well, if Skinny Dick stands for anything, it’s that everything ought to be tried at least once. And if he drops dead, it’ll at least have been in the spirit of exploration - so he takes the pipe, takes a hit, and waits to become the first ghoul ever launched into space. It doesn’t happen, but he does feel a bit lighter, just like how he remembers how a reefer used to make him feel. Plenty impressive, he’ll give it that.

“Good, huh?” she says, looking the most at ease he’s ever seen her. “And there was only a drop of the stuff in that kindling. It’s plenty potent - so I wouldn’t recommend it for humans.” She takes the pipe back, and takes another puff. “Tends to turn ‘em into vegetables. Makes a killing in the ghoul market, though.”

He leans over the bar, the old wood creaking under his weight. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where anybody could get a dealer for that stuff, wouldja?” he whispers, though there’s no real need to. “A fella might be looking to buy some real soon.”

Her smile only grew bigger. “You lookin’ at ‘er.” She lets the pipe hang around her mouth as she extends a hand. “Chives Chen, independent trader, at your service.”

“Skinny Dick,” he says, taking her hand in his own, “owner and proprietor of Skinny Dick’s.”

“Committed to the brand.” Chives nods once. “I like that.” Pulling her hand away, she rests her elbows on the bar and cradles her head in her other hand. “Listen, Dick, can I talk to you on the level?”

He shrugs. “Shoot. We’re talkin’ now, right?”

“Right…” She sits up straight, and folds her hands like she’s playing poker, without the cards. “Listen, my company is interested in expanding our routes, see, and I heard from a little birdie that the Alaskan frontier might be in the market for some Brahma.”

“Y’ heard right. Always willing to trade for more meat around these parts.” He finds himself nodding along - so far, he likes the cut of her jib. “Not a lot of grazing ‘round here, see, and folks need all the grub they can get. Hard enough to keep everybody halfway fed in here, so I could use a steady line of beef.”

She raises her brows, then. “My good Dick,” she says, hint of a laugh tinting her voice, “I think you misunderstood me. I never said I was selling any meat.”

“What d’you got, then? Leather? Horns?” He pauses. “Glue...?”

“Keep going. Maybe you’ll even get it.”

“Don’t make me guess, ma’am,” he groans, throwing his hands up. “I feel like I’m on an episode of Red Tag, over here!” He can’t help but laugh at his own joke, even if there was no way in hell anyone would’ve cared about remembering old game shows.

She takes the pipe out of her mouth and takes a long drag - the smell of the weird smoke doesn’t really get any better with time, especially not when it was being blown in your face. “That was the one Johnny Collins hosted, right?”

“Right, right.” He takes out his own leather pouch of hand-rolled tobacco from his apron, and strikes a match. “Y’know, he’d say somethin’ like, ‘you’re it, America!’, and he’d ask people these fuckin’ impossible questions while they did these challenges…” He lights the cigarette, then takes a long, deep breath.

“Yeah, swimming through jello and trying to hit an apple on some guy’s head,” she adds, laughing. “You could win shit like, what, a voucher for one week’s worth of gas? A whole case of smokes?”

“If you were lucky, you could win a trip to Hawaii or something.” He takes an ashtray out from behind the bar, and taps some ash into it. “Say, you ever been there?”

Chives shakes her head. “Lots of places under the sun I ain’t been to yet, Dick, and that includes most of The Last Frontier.” She dumps out some acidic-smelling ash from her pipe onto the ashtray, and sighs. “I’ll cut right past the fat of it, man. I got a lot of people out in California who have a lot of jet to sell. You want in, or what?”

“...Oh,” he says, halfway into putting the cig near his lipless mouth, “oh, that was it.” He leans back, crossing his arms. “Yeah - nah. Not that I don’t like jet, but… look, you’re not gonna find much buyers for that ‘round here.” He takes a drag and adds, “Down south in Anchorage, though, I hear they eat jet for breakfast, so you might wanna take a look-see for your friends over there.” He taps his chin, then, as he struggles to remember something else. “Some other folks, too… damn, what was it called again? Psykerjet? Ah, I dunno exactly, but they like that shit.”

Chives doesn’t look disappointed by the news; in fact, there’s a new glint in her eye that would’ve been easy to miss, but he’s seen it before. “Alright. Thanks for the tip, Dick.” She puts her pipe back in her coat, pulls out a single cap, and she sets it on the bar as gently as can be. Then she gets up, and walks off in the direction of the rooms. “You’ve been a big help.”

“No prob,” he says, but she’s soon out of sight. He takes the time to inspect the cap she set down; an old, relatively unbent Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle-cap. He thought there was nothing special about it besides the fact that Sunset caps were pretty rare around these parts, until he turned it around - there, someone had painted a shiny, blue star in the middle.

When he came back from the outhouse to do his usual morning rounds at the rooms, he saw that the room Chives had rented was pretty tidy already. He takes a final look around - she hadn’t moved much stuff around or hid anything in the floorboards, which was fine and dandy with him. Skinny Dick supposed that she’d packed her bags and moved on to the next job - or the next bar, if it came down to that - but he found himself rooting for her all the same.

[bapyess1r]

Amphetamine

WARNINGS: fluff, cursing

CHAPTER 11

Talia’s POV

The week had come quicker than expected. I tried my best to not seem over excited that Sam might be coming back today. But I also hadn’t heard from him all week so I was worried. All week I tried my best to stay focused for the sake of the kids and it was a task in itself. I finally understood what my Godmother meant by it being quiet without him around. It was definitely so.

I hit the button on my key fob, walking down the street to the venue where we’d hold our dance recitals, meeting up with my godparents and their kids, the girls dressed in their little unitards and their hair done up. We made a whole day of it, me and the girls. I gave the cutest little hair styles as my Godmother helped straighten my hair and I put a little stage makeup on them, practicing with them to make sure they remembered each move. Ava was so nervous but Mariah was ready to go. My Godmother, carrying little JJ, ran her fingers through my freshly straightened locks, making sure it hadn’t frizzed anywhere as Ava raised her arms to me. I straightened out my short, hot pink, ruffled ensemble before bending to grab her. “C’mon, sweetheart…” I sighed. What should’ve been a happy day was only bittersweet. Sam said he’d be here. As the days of the week drew closer to Saturday without a single word from him, I grew more and more worried. My heart had been in my throat all day just thinking about it.

“Do I still get to be a fox girl?” She asked me and I smiled, kissing her forehead.

“Of course, Ava. And you’ll be a pretty faerie with your sister and all the other girls in your class.” I said, adjusting her on my hip.

“I’m scared…” she pouted. My heart squeezed for her.

“Aw, precious, it’s okay to be scared. But you practiced so hard. And…” I decided to give her and myself a bit of false hope. “Sam’s gonna be here to watch you dance!” Suddenly the biggest smile spread across her face and that made me smile.

“Hi, Talia!” I heard from a group of my older students. They were dressed in their cute colorful dresses of variation. I was making them dance to kpop tonight and wanted them to dress accordingly.

“Hello, my lovelies!” I squealed as I approached them. “You guys ready for tonight?” They nodded. “Uh huh- Leia did you practice your solo?” She grinned confidently as she nodded. “Good girl. C’mon let’s get inside so we can practice.” I instructed and the girls began to run. “Be careful!! Don’t twist any ankles! We don’t need that…” I sang to myself. I took a deep sigh before heading into the building with my Godfamily.

I scrambled to make sure everything was going according to plan and that everyone was dressed properly. My groups were going last and I spent every ounce of time nitpicking at everything. Suddenly they called for the Celestial Fox number. I inspected each girl on their way out to the stage, giving encouraging words as best I could. “Big smiles! Keep your head up! Good luck! Have fun!” I would tell them as I straightened out their fox ears and tails. The ran out one by one to Amatukitune by marasy. An instrumental piano piece. Truth be told, the first performance was a mess but adorable nonetheless. I grinned as I watched the girls performing. The second performance was a faerie ballet number to What If by Emilie Autumn. I almost cried watching my little Godsisters twirling in their purple tutus and prancing about with their faerie wings. The last performance by my group of older girls. Peek-A-Boo by Red Velvet. That’s when I stepped in. The girls were living their best lives, being sassy and dancing so in sync as I approached the stage with a big smile. I ran the choreography with them, hyping them up as they danced and I had to say, I was damn proud. At the end of the routine, I stood off the left of the stage for the audience to applaud the children. They had a standing ovation. The looks of happiness and accomplishment on all the kids faces made all the struggle worth it. For a moment though, I caught myself scanning the audience for Sam’s face. But I didn’t see him. My smile faltered as I looked at my feet briefly.

I told my Godparents I would meet them at home. They wanted to take the kids out to celebrate but I was stuck conversing with parents and taking pictures with the kids I taught. It lasted what seemed like forever. Eventually, all the families had cleared out after I spent some time praising my girls for their performance. After everyone left, I stayed behind to clean up props and costumes from backstage. I gathered up every pair of faerie wings, every fox headband, and every leftover tutu before taking the box and placing it in the supply closet. I made sure everything was locked up in the back before leaving through the building. My black high heels clicking as it echoed through the now empty venue. I bid goodnight to the staff that stayed behind and dug through my purse to ready a cigarette, my lighter, and my keys. I placed a cigarette between my lips, ready to light it when I looked up. He stood before me under the streetlamp, dressed in black slacks and a white collared shirt, a few buttons undone at the top. He was smoking a cigarette of his own, a large bouquet of flowers in his hand as he waited for me. He looked tired. This trip definitely handed him his ass. When he finally noticed me, a relaxed grin spread on his face and a wave of relief crashed over me. It almost brought me to tears. “Sam…” I voiced, choking back tears.

Sam’s POV

I touched back down in Florida right on time. I figured I might be late so I had to do things on the fly. As I exited the airport I stopped by the florist store they had inside and at A&W on my way out. Marcel was waiting for me outside to take me home and help me set up my surprise. I wanted to make my homecoming set up real nice for Talia. She was probably gonna kill me for being late but it was gonna be worth it. “You go get ready, my man. I’ll get the boat ready.�� Marcel told me as we arrived back home. As much as I would’ve liked to relax, I also wanted to see my girl. And as I checked my watch, I realized I was definitely going to be late. I took a quick shower, sprayed myself down with cologne, and got dressed in a white shirt and black pants. I didn’t wanna be too dressy but I wanted to look nice. I walked out into the living room to put on my nicer shoes. When I reached out for my fresh pack of cigs, I noticed the pink ticket sitting on the coffee table on top of a note weighed down by an empty beer bottle. ‘Hurry up idiot.’ It said, signed with a heart. I smirked as I lit a cigarette and grabbed my wallet and boat keys.

When I made it out to the dock, Marcel had just finished lining the inside of the boat with some white string lights. I made a face as he double checked the cooler and straightened out the blanket he folded. “I had no idea you were such a romantic, Marcie.” I chuckled, climbing into the boat.

“Look man you haven’t been here. Talia’s been missing you and I figured if you wanted to have an eventful homecoming, y'know what I mean, you might wanna look like you put in some effort.” He responded, raising his eyebrows. I gave him a strong handshake and a pat on the back, putting the flowers I bought on the top of the cooler.

“Well thanks pal. I really appreciate it.” I began to ready the boat to leave the dock and started the motor.

I gripped the steering wheel nervously as I sailed through the water. The last time I spoke to her, I told her I loved her. It was a big step for me. I don’t know what prompted me to say it. I was just looking at her and started to feel things. For a little while afterwards I thought maybe I shouldn’t have. But there was this moment on the job, when I thought I’d drown. Like it might’ve been it. And all I could think about was her. That’s when I knew. I didn’t have to hide it from her.

It wasn’t very long of a drive by boat. I was definitely late but I was hoping I would still catch some of the recital. I docked the boat at the peer down the road, grabbed the flowers and ran for it. When I arrived at the building, I turned in my ticket and they gave me a flyer with the times each class performed. I had made it just barely. Walking into the theater, there were small girls dressed up like fairies, twirling around with their hands in the air and pointing their tiny feet to the music. It was absolutely adorable. I took a random empty seat in the back row, trying my best to stay hidden so I didn’t disrupt the show. A mom next to me greeted me with a disgustingly cheerful smile as I sat in the small foldable seat. “Any of them one of yours?” She asked me.

“Mine?! Nope! Nooo. Ha-ha. Absolutely not. The teacher is my girlfriend.” I answered with a nervous chuckle and my heart did a thing. I never actually ever said the words out loud. That she was my girlfriend. And the more I did, the more comfortable I became with that truth.

“You’re a lucky man! Talia’s just the sweetest!”

“Yeah, isn’t she?” I agreed with a grin.

Suddenly, a new song began to play, standing in the center with this short, bright pink little number was my girl. I had never seen her perform before. She led the girls into the choreography and fell into the background, letting her students do the work. But my gaze never left her. I watched her pop her hips and run her hands down her body, hitting every step on every beat. She looked fantastic. Her usually curly hair was straightened and her dress danced right below her thighs, subtly showing a curve with each motion. I was getting myself all worked up so I figured I’d quit and behave until later. As I watched her dance, I shook my head. Whoever passed her over for anything clearly didn’t have eyes. She was talented beyond all measure.

When the show ended, I stood up to join the standing ovation. She really was good at her job and I was proud of her. I wanted to go up to her afterwards but she was being swarmed by parents wanting pictures with their kids and such. So I hung back, waited outside for the crowd to dissipate. I smoked a cigarette or two for what felt like ages before I turned to glance at the door. I couldn’t stop the smile on my face and the tension on hers seemed to disappear. I stood up as she looked over my body, smiling at my clothes. I began to walk towards her and I could feel my ears heating up.

“I uh...tried to dress for the occasion. Traffic on the water is shitty right now and… I had to find a florist that was still open…” I said, watching her body walk toward me, the ruffles on her top floating about in the wind, her legs elongated by the heels she wore. My mouth hung open a bit and she placed a hand on my cheek. I covered her small hand with mine, leaning into her. Wrapping my arms around her waist, she kissed me deeply. She kissed me as if she hadn’t seen me in years. To be honest, it’s what it felt like. Like I had been away from her too long. I rested my forehead on hers with a smile, raising the flowers between us. “These are for you.” I smirked and she accepted them with a tear in her eye. She gave my face a once over and a flash of worry displayed on her face as she noticed the massive bruise over my eye and the cut above my eyebrow.

“Ah, dude…” She whispered, running her thumb beneath the sensitive area. “I told you to be careful!” She pushed my hair behind my ear and I just kissed her hand and her face once more.

“And I have been! I’m back in one piece ain’t I?” I reassured her with a smile.

“That’s gonna scar.” She said pointing to my head wound as I pulled her closer.

“I think I’ll be just fine.” I said kissing her forehead, nose, and lips.