#nothing fries my brain more than doing nothing but details and straight fucking lines for hours

[wilchur]

Spent all day lining fucking interiors for work,, I am ready to draw some GAY COWBOYS now

[ohjaimelannister]

Do you think Hoppers actually dead though?

O K A Y.

I’ve been looking for an excuse to pull all of this together so here we go! NO Anon, I do not think that Chief James Hopper has gone and died on us. There’s no REAL evidence (there are easter eggs though) however and the Duffer Brothers could still pull the rug out from under us but hey.

No I do not believe that Hopper is dead. Although some things can be interpreted as pretty final and if the Duffers really kill him off I will never watch this show again, because it’s horrifically SHITTY writing and im already super tired of that this year lmao.

One - There is no body? We were never showed a body or what’s left of one? We have seen bodies for Benny, Barb, Bob and Billy (and even people who were in it for like 5 minutes). THEY EVEN PRODUCED A FAKE WILL WHEN THEY WANTED US TO THINK HE WAS DEAD. THEY AREN’T AGAINST SHOWING US BODIES!!! Which brings me to my next point!

Two - They also aren’t against to showing us death. Lots of gory detailing death, WHOEVER it is. Billy died horrifically but you saw it even though hes a kid. Bob got ripped to shreds.  And even those dudes at the beginning of S3 died horribly? They still showed it. Hopper’s death??? It cuts away. You see NOTHING. AT. ALL. There aren’t even any remnants OF a body where he was standing, and Joyce goes down there and LOOKS. Surely shed find something? Gooey grossness like the bodies at the beginning? Nope. You could argue that they’d be against showing us the death of a beloved hero and a main character but. Again. Bob was beloved and arguably one of the sweetest characters in the show and he was ripped to bits in front of us and Joyce. Billy was a kid for all intents and purposes, still he died a horrible death. Not one bit of that was cut away.

Three - If you look in the shots hes not on the platform when the thing explodes????? like at all? Either that’s badly shot or its done deliberately because he’s just not there anymore? There’s the portal to the Upside Down and you can see a ladder in the shot too, so maybe he either went into the Upside Down or down the ladder and got caught by the russians?? We just don’t know.

Four - We see the devastated Eleven and the aftermath of what happened at Star Court. Then it jumps to three months later? Okay, odd that were not shown anymore of the grieving or the funeral. Then of course Eleven read the SPEECH. Think about the end of it specifically and about LEAVING THE DOOR OPEN 3 INCHES!! You can see from one of the final shots of Star Court that the gates not CLOSED. It was healing but it never fully closes. So Hopper could be in the Upside Down, or travelled through it to Russia on the other end?? Who knows. Point is, they included this line at the end for a reason. Whether the reason is that hes actually dead and they’re just being profound or that its a hint about his fate, its meaningful.

Five - During the ending the song HEROES by Peter Gabriel plays, this is the same song that was placed over them finding Wills fake body, and after all the goodbyes and the ‘speech’ where it ends with “keep the door open three inches” well. Come on.

Six - Then it cuts to Russia and you hear the “not the american” line, and Hopper was called “the American” throughout the series by that Russian baddie. Should I start waving Red Flags here or???? Then again, a lot of people are saying this could be Brenner. Okay I 100% get your logic Im with ya, and for a few days I’ve also thought it could be Brenner. But here’s the thing. Elevens powers. Brenner makes her use them to spy on a russian man in Season 1. Hinting that there’s more going on here than just super powers, kids and other dimensions. Don’t forget that in the 80s the world was in the grip of the Cold War, and things would have started reaching a boiling point for this long before 1985 when it ‘officially’ began. We were never given any answers about why Brenner was spying on this man, or even Russia. Or even if he WAS spying for the US. Nothing, it’s a throwaway scene. Or IS IT? Russians show up in Season Three somehow knowing about the Upside Down, having failed at their own attempts to open a gate in Russia. They somehow know that its Hawkins they need to be in to successfully open their gate and potentially get monsters to use, oh I don’t know, in a WAR???? How would they have known any of this information to begin with?? Oh I wonder. We were told all about Brenner being alive and out there in season two (and we were never told WHERE and this is not referenced again), but as far as I can remember Eleven has never shared this with anyone else, even though it’s completely RELEVANT information. And as far as I can remember (its been a hell of an emotional few days) I dont think were given any explanation about how the Russians knew about the Upside Down, Hawkins or anything. So maybe the reason they knew is BECAUSE BRENNER is the one giving them their directives? Because hes worked for THEM this whole time???

Seven -  Interestingly also Eleven lost her powers? JEEZ ISN’T THAT CONVENIENT!!! Because the first thing shed use them for is to look for Hopper even if she was told he was dead. Shed look, 100% for the man who saved her, gave her a home, loved her, worried for her, cared for her like she was his goddamn OWN. Conveniently though now SHE CANT??? Interesting.

Eight -  And now. There’s the voicemail message. In one of the episodes (my brains so fried I cant remember which one sorry) Murrays gives out his landline number, and when you call it you can hear him give a message to Joyce. You can listen to it here.  You can tell this is after season three, because why would he talk to Joyce Byers? Surely if he was trying to reach someone for information it would be Hopper?  “I have an update, its best if we speak in person" an update??? About what??? Why is he coercing with joyce???  Notice how he says “it’s not good or bad but its SOMETHING” and then says “we’ll talk about it in person” (or something like that) why would he be calling joyce with an ‘update’?????????? AND ON WHAT EXACTLY?? INTERESTING!!

Nine - Theres this interview with the cast specifically ABOUT Hopper, the death and the post credits scene. And I love David Harbour but, you cannot lie for shit my angel.

Ten - Millie has said in an interview “ Her dads gone, or so she thinks” COME ON.

Eleven - Again WE KNOW DAVID HARBOUR IS LIKE THE MARK RUFFALO OF STRANGER THINGS. And hes bad at keeping shit to himself. Hes already told us at the end of last YEAR, literally a month after they finished filming season three that the Duffers have told him the ending to the series as a whole. Why would any creator do this for a man they have effectively just fired, because his character died? Why would they tell him? They wouldn’t.

Tweleve - Again. David Harbour, bless his heart, I think its trying to give us HINTS and bread crumbs to follow. Last week he changed his instagram photo from Hopper in S1 to the number 6. Odd. Today he changed it to the number one :

Twelve continued - Basically if he changed it to an 8 next, we know hes trying to hint at Murrays voicemail message and this is a clue for Hopper. Because why else would he bother?

Thirteen - Theres also this screenshot from Cara Buonos instagram where she literally SAYS about him being in Kamchatka, and uses the Russian word for PRISON. (Of course this could just be a joke between the actors

Fourteen - Theres also the fact, which is not evidence mind you, that its incredibly shitty writing to have both the men that Joyce Byers loved/loves to die in front of her? And actually having her put the action in motion that kills the man she loves? No. I wont accept that. And weve been shown her non willingness to believe in peoples death, everyone and their mothers told her Will was dead and she was being crazy. Did she listen? No. And she got her boy back. Will she think once she has a clear head that Hoppers dead? Maybe. Which is why she asks Murray to investigate. Hence the Voicemail Message.

Fifteen - Its also incredibly shitty and hard to swallow, for Elevens sake too. I mentioned already how much she loves Hopper and finally got a true parent in him. Do you honestly think they’d put her through all of that just to lose him NOW? Like i said, its convienent how shes lost her powers at this very crucial moment.

Sixteen - DAVID. HARBOURS. BEARD. RIGHT. NOW.

And SEVENTEEN -Just in case y’all are having trouble with any of that it looks like David Harbour has let sorta slip (my god I fucking ADORE THIS MAN LET ME TELL YOU). I dont know how reliable this is mind you because its not coming from a BIG source, but HERE he hints at knowing who the American is, after telling everyone else (see the interview above ^^) that he doesnt know and he cant say anything. 

‘During an interview with David Harbour, I attempted to delicately get around the fate of Jim Hopper. Harbour, however, came right out and gave it to me straight. “This is the question I’m going to have to dance around–” I began, only for Harbour to interrupt me and ask, “The ending?” “Right,” I said. “Is there a way you can talk about the future of Hopper without…” I trailed off here, only for Harbour to ask: “Well, did you see the post-credits scene?”I had, of course. And so I straight-up asked: is that Hopper behind the door? According to Harbour, that’s the most likely scenario. Throughout the season, the main Russian baddie refers to Hopper as “the American”, and having another Russian refer to the mysterious prisoner in the same way was the big giveaway.Of course, knowing that Hopper is alive, and knowing how he survived and ended up in Russia, are two different things. We’ll have to wait for season 4 to get that answer. And we’ll have to wait to see how things unfold from there. Will a big chunk of season 4 involve Hopper escaping that Russian base, and trying to get back to America? Time will tell. One thing is clear: Hopper still has a long journey ahead of him; not just physically, but emotionally.’

SO, basically Jim Hopper has not left us, Joyce or Eleven.  And if the Duffer Brothers have done all this to screw with us, well. Im not gonna be responsible for what I do.

I FEEL JIM HOPPER IN THIS RUSSIAN PRISON TONIGHT!!!

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!!!!!!!!

[meganshinsou-tm]

Sugarcoated. (m)

↳ chapter seventeen: the void

❧ genre: pro-hero hitoshi, adoptive siblings, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: mentions of suicide/self harm, depression, anxiety, comfort

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

The loud and obnoxious sound of the alarm on your phone woke you from a deep slumber. You groaned and reached behind your head to the arm of the couch and grabbed the device, picking it up and touching the 'off' button. Your fingers went to clutch the phone but it slipped from your hold and landed straight on your forehead.

"Oh for the love of fucking christ why!"

Groaning and moaning in pain, you rolled over and fell straight off of the couch with a yelp. 

"I'm just going to lay here and die," you thought to yourself as your face stayed buried into the rug. 

The phone started to ring only a few seconds later, startling you from the serene quietness of the house. With a sigh you sat up on your elbows and grabbed the phone, seeing that it was Hitoshi calling, more than likely to make sure you were awake from your nap.

"Ayeeee," you answered with a tired and un-enthused tone.

"I swear you're something else woman, are you awake? Like awake awake?"

"Yeah I'm awake, trust me," you replied rubbing your forehead.

"Okay, just making sure sweetness. The kid has dance this afternoon right?"

You confirmed Hitoshi's question as you rose from the floor with a groan. The two of you continued to converse as you put on your hoodie and coat, shoes and grabbed your car keys. It had been exactly three weeks since you moved in with your now boyfriend to help him with the care of Eri. It was an exhausting and busy three weeks but so wonderful at the same time. You liked the hustle and bustle of bringing Eri to and from school and her different lessons. More than anything you loved being part of Hitoshi and Eri's life, sharing a home with them both and having your own life full of love and happiness, all because of them.

"How about I meet you two after her lesson and we'll go out for dinner since it's Friday?"

You quirked a brow and counted back your days, realizing that Hitoshi was right but also causing another important detail to pop into your brain as you saw a sparkly pink duffel bag by the front door.

"Uh – I think it'll be just me and you actually. Eri is supposed to go to some little slumber party tonight after dance. I just remembered!"

"That's fine then, you know what, since you'll be back at home before me I'll just pick up some take-out on my way home and we'll have a night in together. It's been a while since we've had one of those, kid free. Maybe even have a copious amount of sex squeezed in between some movies and video games?"

You laughed as you were already out the door and getting into your vehicle, knowing good and well that your lover was at his work desk surrounded by his colleagues and not giving a single fuck about if they could overhear him or not.

"Mmm, food, movies, video games and sex. Should I wear my 'holey' pants, I just know how turned on you get when I strut around in them!"

A sharp inhale was heard on the other end of the call, making you laugh again from imagining Hitoshi grinning through his gritted teeth as he thought of your pair of pajama pants with pink pineapples all over them and a good number of frayed holes. You never cared to throw them away because they were the most comfortable pair of pj's you owned.

"Oh now you're talking, maybe even wear a matching trash bag top. Mmm, that'd be so fucking hot!"

More laughter erupted from your mouth, making Hitoshi laugh as well. You sank back into the seat of the vehicle after starting the engine and turning the heater on full blast. "I love you weirdo."

"I love you more sweetheart. Be careful on the road please, and text me when you get there."

"You got it captain!"

After picking up Eri from school, the two of you had a small amount of time to drive-thru and grab a quick snack. Eri sat in her booster seat, eating her fries and drinking her juice happily as you did the same. You turned down the music on the radio and glanced at the little girl in your rear-view mirror.

"So cutie, what do you want to be for Halloween? We're gonna have to start looking for a costume because you got that party coming up, plus we're all going to the festival at UA."

As Eri chewed on a mouthful of salty fries she thought with a finger to her cheek. After a few seconds, her ruby eyes lit up and she looked at you.

"I want to be Alice!"

"Ooh, that sounds easy enough! You'd make a very cute and fitting Alice! You know I think we should make Toshi be the Cheshire Cat!"

"Yeah! He's purple already!" Eri pointed out.

You laughed and agreed with her. You couldn't wait to tell Hitoshi the decision you and his sister made in regards to his Halloween outfit. Eri followed with asking what you would be, which actually stumped you. You weren't much of a fan of the classic tale but you had a general knowledge of it. The Mad Hater or Queen of Hearts just didn't really float your boat. 

"Hmm, who else is there?" 

A light flickered in your head as you thought about making you and Hitoshi match at least in the animal department.

"What about the White Rabbit?"

"Yeah! Then we would all match!"

The rest of the drive you and Eri planned out the pieces of your costumes. Once at dance you walked in with her, hand in hand and helped to get her dressed in her dance outfit and put her long silver locks up into a nice and neat bun. You stowed her stuff away and walked to the dance room, crouching to her level before she went inside.

"Alright, you're going home with Mai and her mommy today for her slumber party. All your things are in your bag, and if you need absolutely anything you let her mom know and she will call me or Toshi."

"Okay Unnie, you and Sou-Sou will come get me tomorrow?"

"Absolutely, whenever you're ready to come home, we'll be on our way!"

Eri smiled and nodded before hugging your neck tightly. You placed a kiss to her head before standing and coaxed her into the dance room. She smiled and waved goodbye to you and ran to join her little group of friends. You waved back and proceeded to give the other girls mother yours and Hitoshi's numbers and made your way back home, more than ready to have a lazy night with your equally exhausted boyfriend.

Hitoshi struggled to open the door of his home, after many failed attempts of calling your cell or kicking at the barrier since his hands were full, he had to manage by himself knowing that you wouldn't be coming to help him. Once inside he heard it was quiet for the most part, which had him worried until he walked more into the kitchen and could hear a vacuum cleaner running down the hall. His heart was put at ease, realizing that's why you didn't answer him.

The hero placed all the bags of food on the counter, he went all out and got everything the both of you enjoy from your favorite take-out place. You had been working so hard the past few weeks caring for Eri, cleaning the house and cooking in your free time, even if it was already spotless. 

Of course Hitoshi wasn't the type to just sit back and let you do these things, either you'd have them all done before he could get home or when he'd offer his help you'd decline it and suggest he spend time with Eri helping with her homework or just playing games with her. Tonight he wanted to make sure you were satisfied in more ways than one, a belly full of good food, a nice bath to relax your tired body, nice soft and comfy clothes and a whole bunch of doing nothing.

After Hitoshi's arms were empty he slid his shoes off and made his way towards the whirring sound of the cleaning appliance. It led him to Eri's bedroom and he poked his head around the corner of her door frame. The sight his eyes fell upon was very welcomed, making him chuckle and smile. 

Your ear buds were snug in your ears, your phone on the toddlers dresser. As you vacuumed you danced along with the music flowing into your canals, singing to it as well. Your hips swayed in a hypnotic way and you had great footwork as you stepped along with the beat. Your entire body was moving - shoulders, waist, head. (H/c) locks swayed along and your free hand was raised up dancing along too.

"Y se emociona, ya no razona. Y me empieza a cantar, me canta así, así. Bidi bidi bom bom. Bidi bidi bom bom."

Hitoshi's eyes lit up as he heard your voice speaking the Spanish language so flawlessly. He knew you liked many different types of music and knew countless songs word by word, the language barrier being no problem. 

This wasn't the first time the male had caught you like this either, there were multiple times he'd walk in on you dancing and singing in the shower, while baking or cleaning. Each time he'd scare the piss out of you by not making his presence known and you'd stop immediately. It wasn't like you couldn't dance or sing, because you could and so well. The sheer embarrassment of it all though is what would make you end the show. 

This time though, he didn't want that to happen. With the help of his own sounds being muted by your ear buds and vacuum, he was able to sneak inside the room and place himself a close distance behind you. His violet eyes watched your foot work and learned it quickly, they'd also gaze to your ass as you'd roll your hips and stick the plump flesh out.

He panted, seeing you in black leggings and a plain long-sleeve shirt. You didn't have to wear fancy or revealing getup's to get his blood pumping and his tongue hanging from his mouth. 

Hitoshi held his hands up and lined them with your hips as he got ready to step in with you. You sang the song so well and perfectly it's like he could hear the beat of it and easily became in-tune with your movements. Hitoshi took a deep breath and waited for just the right moment and took it. 

One arm wrapped around the front of your waist, pulling your gyrating hips into his, the other grabbed hold of your hand that swayed up in the air. Chuckling, his lips brushed against the skin of your neck, making a shocked gasp escape from your mouth. You hadn't fully registered what was happening as Hitoshi danced with you, moving his hips along with yours and pressing his hard chest to your back.

You stopped vacuuming, letting go of the machine and Hitoshi took the chance to twirl you around and face him. He took a bud from your ear and placed it in his so he could hear the music you listened to. It was lively and fun, his hands took hold of yours, fingers intertwining and holding them in the air as he danced along with you quite well.

"Toshi-ah! What the – you never told me you could even remotely dance!"

Hitoshi twirled you, making you giggle and tugged you towards him and kissed your cheek, "You never asked."

"That's my line you turd!"

Smiling, Hitoshi pulled you into his chest and dipped you, timing it perfectly with the end of the song. He was so pleased with himself and placed sweet kisses up your neck to your cheek before standing you straight up again. His arms wrapped around you and hugged you close, you hummed and hugged back burying your face into him. Hitoshi pulled away and removed the bud from yours and his ear, grabbed your phone and shut off your music.

"Come on sweetness, let's get that thing put back up and get our night started!"

After eating all the food you could until you were miserable, Hitoshi ran a bath and you both bathed and relaxed until you were prunes. Now you laid on the couch together watching a movie. Hitoshi played with your (h/c) hair as you laid on his chest until you lost interest in the film and moved to sit up and straddle his lap. He smiled and touched your warm cheek, drinking in the site of you wearing one of his shirts and looking adorable.

"I didn't ask yet, but how was your last full week at the agency?"

Hitoshi explained his week and you listened closely, your hands playing with his.

The time had come finally for him to start his teaching job at UA that following Monday, you were excited and nervous for him, he was more excited than anything. All week after he'd get off work, he'd stop by the school to set up his classroom and get everything in place and ready. 

You and Eri stopped by one day to bring him dinner and you weren't exactly surprised to see just how much he put into the room. It looked chaotic with all the sketches, posters and prints that hung from the walls but it was somehow like an organized chaotic. Everything flowed together well, it was cozy and very inviting. As he stated before, there was a big print of your picture from Disneyland on one of the walls, along with an equally sized picture of Eri. Hitoshi said he was going to make the classroom his own and make it his own he did.

"You excited for your first day of teaching?" You asked, moving your hands up Hitoshi's chest to wrap around his neck and play with his hair.

"Definitely, it'll be a nice change and new journey. I can't wait to meet my students and see how creative they are."

You smiled at your lover's excitement and leaned forward to kiss his lips softly. Hitoshi hummed as his hands rested on and squeezed your hips. He grinned after you broke away, asking what the kiss was for.

"Just because. I'm really proud of you Hitoshi, you set your sights on something and you go after it."

"Well thank you sweetheart. I'm so lucky to have you," he replied and pulled your lips to his again, giving you a kiss to express his gratitude.

You smiled and leaned down, hugging his chest and pressing your cheek to it. Hitoshi wrapped his own arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

"It's definitely the other way around Toshi."

Shinsou smirked as he rubbed your back and you went back to watching the movie on the tv but suddenly it's like your words brought a past memory up, from that night in the bathtub a few weeks ago. 

"I don't know how much longer I would've lasted in this world." 

Somehow he had forgotten to ask you about that night, about your life and emotional health before moving in with him. Looking down at you, Hitoshi figured now was a good enough time to ask you, you were awake and aware and already in a somewhat mushy and open mood. You never had been the type to really hide anything from him, even before your relationship became official. Hitoshi picked up on clues to your moods and he'd ask you about them, sometimes you'd be hesitant or annoyed with his line of questioning but you always answered him. In the end you'd feel better having him to vent to.

"Hey baby," Hitoshi started off as his hand on your back squeezed, "I've been wanting to talk to you about something."

You remained in your place, your hand holding onto Hitoshi's bicep and your thumb brushing his skin under the sleeve of his shirt. "What is it Toshi?"

"Do you remember a few weeks ago, when you and Eri made that cake, me and you took a bath that night and you were dozing off? You said something to me, something about how if I hadn't come along with my job offer then you didn't know 'how much longer you would've lasted in this world'. Does any of that ring a bell?"

Your brows knitted, trying to recall that nights events. The memories were blurry, you were in a dazed state after all. You remembered Hitoshi bathing you, holding you close and letting you melt into him. When you're extremely tired and trying to fight it off, you tend to blabber a lot about your hearts innermost feelings. More than likely that was the case that night, no denying it.

"I don't remember it exactly, but it sounds like something I would've said."

"What exactly did you mean by that? You weren't planning on hurting yourself ... were you?"

There was a pause before you replied, letting out a long and ragged breath as you thought how to form the words that wanted to fall from your lips. 

You had thoughts before, of how much easier life would be if you didn't have a life at all. You wouldn't have to worry about meeting due dates for bills, wouldn't have to be bothered with your families problems and above all, wouldn't have to see that monster you worked for ever again. Each day going back and forth to that café seemed to just break a piece of your soul off more and more. The looks, whistles and words that you'd hear. 

Your only saving grace being Hitoshi when he'd stop by and grace you with his company. For those few moments or hours, you'd feel that everything was good in the world, that maybe you could make it one more day if it meant seeing that tuft of purple hair and those glistening amethyst eyes one more time.

"Uh – not exactly, I guess? I don't know. I think back then I honestly had just given up on caring about my life Hitoshi. I was in the mindset that if something 'bad' did happen to me then I'd be okay with it. Truthfully, I'm too much of a little bitch to ever off myself, I wanted it to be done for me. I'd go as far as seeking out dangerous situations sometimes."

Hitoshi clenched his jaw, letting your words hit him hard, his hold on you grew tighter. You kissed the inside of his elbow that your face rested in and continued.

"I – I'd purposefully walk through the rough and bad areas of the city on my way home some nights. Hoping someone would think I was good enough to mess with and even hurt. Other times I wouldn't pay attention to my surroundings as I walked crosswalks during heavy traffic. I feel disgusted with myself that I even thought of giving into that man I worked for, then trying to back out of it, hoping he'd get mad enough to lose his control and just ... end me. I almost got what I wished for huh? Except that night, my entire view had changed, I didn't want that situation anymore but still it ended up happening, like some sick joke."

Hitoshi could feel his chest tightening, his heart aching and squeezing. The thought of seeing a story on the news about a girl with your description found behind a dumpster in the slums of Japan had his stomach in knots and made him nauseous. The fact that you sought that out, made it even worse. 

If you truly had gotten everything you wished for back then, Hitoshi would've been guilt ridden for sure. It was his fucking job to read people, how did he not see that dead and hopeless look in your eyes? 

Was it because when he was around, even if you acted annoyed, that you were at your happiest? Just the act of him stopping by and requesting you, was that what kept you going? What about your own family, there's no way they didn't play a part in your life and no way they wouldn't have helped you, had you asked for it.

"(Y/N), what about your family?"

Your shoulders shrugged and you hummed. 

"Well, I distanced myself from them. My parents especially, I just wanted to escape all the – the idiocy. My brother and his wife, their kids, they were another reason I kept going. My mother and father though, nothing happy every comes out of those relationships. Just being let down time and time again, picked over for something better."

You had no family really, except for your sibling and his small family. Those two kids of theirs were your entire world. Then Hitoshi and Eri came along and your world grew. You and brother would go a few weeks without talking to each other, it was normal. They would get busy with the kids and work, and you would be busy with whatever was going on in your life. Always though, you'd check up on each other after too long and pick up from where you left off.

Hitoshi was silent as you explained your sad and chaotic life to him, taking it all in. He never knew any of this went on, had he known, he would've done more, made his move earlier! You finally pulled yourself from his chest, going back to straddling his hips and looking at him. The man looked to be on the verge of tears. 

You pouted and cupped Hitoshi's face, leaning forward and resting your forehead to his.

"I'm sorry Hitoshi. I'm sorry I didn't value you my life like I should've. Sorry for not being strong enough and being a coward, for being stupid and endangering myself. I just, I had enough of it all, I was tired," a shaky breath left your lips, " - so tired. I wasn't going anywhere fast enough for my liking, I had these dreams that seemed so unrealistic and I got discouraged. You saved me though and each day I'm so thankful you walked into that café almost every goddamn day and showed me that smile and kindness. It got to where I lived for it, now wholeheartedly I live all because of you."

Tears flowed from your eyes and from Hitoshi's as well. When he felt a tear drop onto his shirt the hero captured you in his arms holding you as close as humanly possible. Your cries rippled through him as he held your head to him and pet your hair. You apologized over and over, for the smallest and most unnecessary reasons. Hitoshi quietly cried with you, comforting and shushing your un-needed words.

"You have nothing to be sorry for towards me (Y/N). I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner or did something about it. The thought of you suffering alone, not being this person I've been so blessed to see these past few weeks, it fucking kills me. As long as there's a breath in me, I promise to do everything in my power to make sure you're happy. I'll support and back all your dreams like you do for me, I'll always be here for you to vent to and let your frustrations out on, I'll be absolutely any and everything you could ever need. You have to promise me though that if you ever feel yourself slipping, even just the smallest bit, back into that void, you'll let me know."

You nodded, sniffling and wiping your nose and eyes with the backs of your hands and arms. "I promise Hitoshi. Thank you so much, for everything. I love you so much."

Hitoshi closed his eyes and squeezed you tight, placing a kiss to your temple and wiped your eyes. "I love you so much more."

The next few minutes were spent with Hitoshi holding you close, both of you calming down and getting back to normal. Your boyfriend instructed you wrapped around and hold him tight as he got up from the couch, carrying you to the kitchen and sitting you on the counter. He grabbed a clean rag and wet it with warm water, wrung it out then placed himself between your knees. As you sniffled, Hitoshi used the rag to wipe and clean your eyes and face. The warmth of the cloth made you relax and you gave the man an appreciative smile.

"Sorry I kind of ruined the whole vibe tonight Toshi."

"Baby, you didn't ruin anything. As painful as it was, I'm glad we had this talk. How about we play a friendly game of Mario Kart to get the mood back up?"

You chuckled as Hitoshi took your face in his hands, pulling you to look up at him towering over you and placing a kiss to your lips. Your hands hung from his as you kissed back eagerly. His warm and soft lips were helping to bring the warmth back to yours. The taste of spicy curry was still on his tongue that was welcomed into your mouth and lapped at your own muscle, you enjoyed it honestly. Tongues retreated back to their own caves and your lips enveloped each other one last and long time before breaking away.

"You're on Hitoshi, get ready to get your ass kicked!"

A cocky grinned grew on Hitoshi's face and he quickly tossed you over his shoulder, placing a firm smack to your ass as he carried you back into the living room. It stung more than usual being you weren't wearing pants to protect your skin. You playfully bit at the back of his shoulder, making him only bite your thigh in retaliation.

"Ow you fucker! I'd be nice if I were you, I do get to put together your Halloween costume in fact, and I could be evil about it!"

"What costume? I haven't told you what I wanted to be yet."

You smiled as Hitoshi flung you onto the massive couch from over his shoulder. His arms trapped your head and he looked down on you and leaned on the couch.

"You don't get a say in the matter, Eri chose for you and it's great! You see, you'll be going as the Cheshire Cat, ears and all! For once I'll be the one drooling over you in a kitty cat getup!"

Hitoshi narrowed his eyes at you and grit his teeth. Your finger reached up and glided under his chin then to bop the tip of his nose as you giggled.

"Cat got your tongue Toshi?"

"Bite me," he snapped back.

Propping up on your elbow, your hand cupped his neck and tugged him down roughly and closer to you, the tip of your tongue licked up the side of his throat and stopped at his jaw where you nipped lightly. "Don't mind if I do!"

[piratewithvigor]

Love Break My Heart: Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: A half-life relationship is disintegrating at the seams. Neither of them is good for the other, but after 14 years together, they don’t know how to be with each other anymore.

Word Count: 2179

A/N: This is a prize story written for @slashscowboyboots​ that is getting written super fast because I seem to be on a roll. Unless I get hit with a massive plot bunny, the next chapter will be the final one.

I’m running. It’s a distant memory from long ago, but I can feel the uneven gravel under my sneakers. Every little pebble getting stuck in the grooves of the sole. My lungs are aching for air, but I’m not slowing down. I can’t afford to slow down. The tree shows itself over the horizon and I exhale hard in relief. The tree is safety presenting itself to us, allowing us reprise.

I don’t slow down until I grab hold of the tree, the bark scraping the skin on my hand and wrist. Only then do my feet stop moving. Axl arrives moments after I do, tagging into pause in much the same way, but not drawing blood from his palm like I did.

His face is much the same as it is now. A jawline that could cut glass and lips appearing just as soft. His hair is a little shorter and not quite as straight, but he’s already well on his way to having it be too long for most of Indiana. The one thing that’s never changed are his eyes. Even as he’s gasping for air with his hands on his knees, he looks up at me and his eyes are the same. They remind me of the day I first noticed them: a stormy day with a grey sky shadowing over green fields. We’d snuck out of class to smoke under the bleachers of the football field and got caught in the storm. We stayed mostly dry there and got the best view of the downpour. Axl had said something that made me look into his eyes and notice them for the first time. His words exactly are lost to me.

Once Axl catches his breath, he straightens up and grins.

“So you beat me here; big whoop.”

“I don’t think that’s what the deal was,” I counter, crossing my arms as I lean against the tree.

“What deal? I don’t remember a deal.” He’s trying to look innocent and for a moment, it almost works on me. But no fourteen-year-old buys crap that obvious.

“C’mon, Bill. You gotta do it. I beat you fair and square.”

Axl sighs before taking a few steps back from me to give himself space. To his credit, he isn’t one to back down from a bet, no matter how stupid it was. And this was the epitome of stupid.

“Friday night and the lights are low, looking out for a place to go…” His voice sounds ridiculous when mentally compared to the original vocals of Dancing Queen, but his attitude towards it is perfect. With the front of his hair fluffed out to the sides, he looks just like a ginger version of Agnetha Fältskog.

I’m cracking up during the entire performance. Partly because of watching my best friend make a fool of himself to no one but me, but also because he’s putting so much effort into it. I didn’t even know he knew all the words to Dancing Queen, but life surprises you daily. The chorus is the moment he truly belts out into the open field. It’s the moment when I watch all of the cares leave his body. All the stress. Everything he has to suffer through at his house is forgotten and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was enjoying himself.

I’m almost sad to hear the song end, but it does. And with an almost regal bow that I’m sure caused Axl to brush the grass underneath with his elbow. Just to play along, I’m applauding. I’m sure he thinks it’s to make fun of him, which is what the whole ordeal was supposed to be about in the first place, but there’s a hint of sincerity in there that I hope he picks up on.

“Thank you, thank you, all,” he declares, speaking to an imaginary audience. “We’ve been ABBA and now we’re going to shut the fuck up so no one has to hear that goddamn song ever again.”

“Bold words coming from someone who knows every line.” I smirk, sitting down with my back against the tree.

“Everyone knows every line. When’s the last day you haven’t heard that fucking noise on the radio?” He gripes, sitting down across from me.

“Fair enough. Wish they’d play more of the good stuff. Like that new Aerosmith album.”

Axl covers his ears in a hurry.

“Don’t say anything about it! I’ve been saving my allowance for three weeks to get it, so don’t spoil it!” I chuckle and reach over to pull his hands away from his ears.

“I won’t say anything, but why don’t you just come to my place to listen to it?”

“I can’t listen to anything for the first time with someone else in the room. It ruins the experience.”

“That seems stupid.”

“It’s not stupid! It’s like… It’s like the movies, y’know?” I raise my eyebrow at him. He’s fumbling for an explanation hard enough that he looks like he might fall over. “Like, when you go to the movies, sometimes you can go with someone if you don’t really care about it, because half your attention is watching how the other person reacts the entire time and it doesn’t matter. But if you go alone, you can really pay attention to the details.”

“Guess that makes sense. You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

“You gotta. What’s the point in enjoying something unless it’s the best experience it can be?”

Axl’s eyes have lit up while he’s talking. If I’m being honest, my mind is in two places as I listen: half focused on what he’s saying and half watching him say it. Axl doesn’t talk with his hands too much like how some people do when they get passionate. He talks with his eyes. You can only see it if you’re truly looking for it. It might be the reason why none of the adults ever thought he cared about anything. But he truly does.

“Is being alone all you need to enjoy an album?” I eventually ask, on the realisation that I haven’t said anything in a few moments.

“Usually. Sometimes I smoke a little, but that’s only for, like, Pink Floyd or something. Speaking of which…” He gives me a look and I know he knows I know what he’s talking about. It’s still fun to dick around with him anyway.

“Speaking of what?”

“C’mon, Jeff…”

“You must have me confused with some kind of scoundrel,” I smirk, pulling my cap down over my eyes.

“I have you confused with no one, you pothead dipshit,” Axl laughs, flicking my cap off.

“Well, since you were so mean to me, I’m just going to smoke it all, then.”

“I’ll frisk you over it.” He says it like a threat, but my heart still skips a beat when he says it.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

I hadn’t noticed we were in a Mexican standoff until we were already knee-deep. He was on his knees, staring me down without a hint of joking in his expression. I was doing my best to keep the same stoicism on my face, but something in the air was making me want to giggle. It was probably only a minute or so before I cracked and reached into my shirt pocket to toss the little baggie of joints at him.

“Yeah, I’m the pothead,” I snickered as I watched him light one up eagerly.

“You’re baked more than a Dunkin Donuts,” he countered, exhaling happily.

“No shit, idiot. Donuts are fried.”

“Just like your brain from how much you smoke.”

The back-and-forth continues and only grows sillier as we smoke. We both consider ourselves experts on pot. Real hot shit because we know how to do it without coughing too much. Typical young teenager dumbassery.

The evening is growing later and our conversation is calmer. Less silly and more dreamy. Axl is no longer sitting across from me, but beside me with his back to the tree as well to make passing the joint back and forth easier. Our shoulders are brushing and sometimes hands as well. If I weren’t a little high, I never would have thought anything of it, but my mind keeps getting drawn back to every detail about the kid sitting beside me. Details like how he always smells like old books on Monday morning because he spent all of the day before at church. How his clothes never quite fit him right because they’re either from when he was a kid, or he’s lost weight. How soft his hair feels when a light breeze blows a few strands into my face.

“When we get out of here, we’re going to be huge,” he murmurs, finally accepting that we’ve smoked the joint down to the nub and puts it out.

“I mean, yeah, obviously. Who wouldn’t want to listen to you, Miss Disco Queen?” I tease. He punches me lightly in the arm.

“I’m serious. We could totally make it. We’ve got the stuff.”

“And when have you ever heard of someone from Indiana really making it big?”

“No one from Indiana, exactly, but tons of hick kids make it big. Like, Liverpool is the hick town of England, I think.”

“You serious?”

“I mean, probably. They sound like hick English guys when they talk.”

“And Buddy Holly was from a hick Texas town.”

“Jeff, he died when he was 23. Not the greatest role model.”

“He was 22, but think of it: that was almost 20 years ago and people still like him.”

“What’s your point?”

I shrug and cross my fingers behind my head to cushion it from the tree. “Dunno anymore. Guess that anyone can make it with the right stuff.”

Axl seems to agree with me because he doesn’t say anything else.

The moment is one that sticks with me long afterwards. In the 14 years since we’ve been 14, I still remember every detail. My back is aching against the rough back poking through my shirt and I know Axl’s back is hurting from the beating he’d gotten a few days ago. The bruises were finally turning away from the nasty black and blue, but now they were yellow, which was almost worse. He’s leaning on me a little bit. Not in a way that implied anything, just in a way that expressed his exhaustion from the evening. The sun is setting in front of us and I almost wish I had brought my sunglasses. I usually never go anywhere without them, but the race from my house to the tree was something I couldn’t risk losing them on. In a way, I’m glad. It means nothing is blocking the colours. The sky is the same orange as Axl’s hair. The setting sun over the horizon feels the same way the colour appears; warm, safe. I’m feeling the gold-laced orange on my face and against my fingers as I lower my hands from behind my head and tentatively wrap one around Axl’s shoulders. He doesn’t move beyond adjusting to allow me to place my arm comfortably and I take it to mean he’s okay with the change. Just in case I took his body language wrong, I turn to him to check and my body freezes. The glow of the dusk is still radiating from him, making his hair glow. It feels like I’m holding a small ball of fire under my arm. He turns to look up at me and I feel I should turn away, but I can’t bring myself to. The sight is too spectacular to have end.

Axl ends it for me.

Before I can apologise for my staring, his lips are on mine. They’re just as soft as I always guessed they were. Plush and yielding and unwilling to let me back away. He tastes like the weed we just smoked with a hint of the burgers my mom made for us only a few hours ago. He tastes like Axl. Feels like Axl. I could make all the comparisons I wanted to, but at the end of the day, he was more than the sum of the parts I love about him. He’s Axl. My Axl.

He pulls away hardly an inch and I find myself as breathless as I was after sprinting a mile. Breathing isn’t as important as it once was. Nothing seems to be. Everything that’s important to me is already here.

“I hope that was okay…” He whispers, the lasting sunlight illuminating the blush spotting his cheeks. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”

“You’re not the only one,” I respond, cupping his face in my free hand. I pull him close and kiss him again, dissipating all the fear I know he held during the first.

I go back to this memory often. Reminding myself of the love we held for each other once upon a time. I’m back in it again tonight as I sit alone at the kitchen table, holding an ice pack to my face to ease the swelling after my Fireball successfully got me with a lamp.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can you write a fluffy fic, where James has been planning to propose Sirius on his birthday with all the candles and stuff, but gets drunk on Halloween and blurts it out, and spends the next three days grumpy till Sirius proposes him on his own birthday just as James had planned, please?

James checked the list, ranked from most important to least. Not to say that the bottom half of the list was expendable, but having the ring definitely ranked more vital than having his hair done properly. Ring check, menu and ingredients check, dessert check, candles check, outfit check. He still needed to get a few decorations prepared, but they were all things he could summon. All he really needed to do was make sure he could cast the spells properly so that it would match the rest of the theme. 

He was going to propose on Sirius's birthday, which was yet another step in his 'Make Sirius Like His Birthday' plan. They probably wouldn't get married on his birthday since Sirius deserved to have as many days to celebrate during the year as possible, but proposing on his birthday would make it all the happier. It doubly worked because this way Sirius wouldn't get suspicious about all the decorations, so James didn't have to worry about the surprise of it. 

Not for nothing, but he had been planning this proposal for a month and a half straight. Everything was going to be one hundred percent perfect, and Merlin help whoever tried to stop him. 

They were drinking because it was Halloween and that was half the point of the holiday. The other half was dressing up. James didn't particularly care about his costumes, but Sirius tended towards skin-tight and/or revealing and James ate that shit up with a spoon. Sirius had dressed up as a cat this year, cackling every time he thought about it. James thought it was pretty funny, and again skin tight outfit-- he wasn't going to complain. James was some witch from a muggle tv show, the partner to whichever specific cat Sirius was being. He didn't understand it, but at the end of the night when they flooed home in a giggling pile, James had a half-naked Sirius in his lap and he was all about that life. 

He reached up and tugged off the fake cat ears, tossing them aside and running his hands through Sirius's hair. "You're so preeeetty," he said, words slow and slurring from the fire whiskey. "So so pretty and you're alllll mine." 

Sirius was a little bit more sober than James, and as such was grinning and basking in all the compliments James was giving him. 

"I can't believe I get to marry you." 

"Marry me huh?" Sirius repeated, amused. 

"Uh-huh. There's gonna be candles and glitter and, and a ring just for you and it's very pretty." 

"It sounds great." 

"Yeah but shush-sh," James said clumsily, putting a finger to the center of Sirius's lips, "it's a surprise." 

Sirius smiled wider. "You are so adorable. Come on, let's go to bed." 

*

James woke the next morning to a warm bed and the smell of breakfast being made. He sighed happily, burrowing further in the covers. He was never leaving this place, he decided, very assured with this in his sleep addled brain. This was what heaven felt like, and he wasn't leaving it. He well and truly wasn't. 

He laid there for a few minutes. He wanted to kiss Sirius, but Sirius was not in the bed. James frowned and crawled out of bed. He surely liked like a gremlin with the way he was hunched over and shuffling around, but wakefulness was for those that actually wanted to be up, and that did not include him right now. He managed to make it to the kitchen and planted his face on Sirius's shoulder while whimpering pitifully. 

Sirius's hand came up and pat him on the head. It felt quite nice, and James managed to get his hands up enough to put them loosely around Sirius's waist. "Why weren't you in bed?" he asked. 

Sirius laughed. "I have no idea what you're trying to say sweetheart." 

Okay so maybe it was more like a mumbled smush of sounds instead of words, but he'd meant to ask Sirius why he'd left their warm, cozy, haven of a bed. "Mmph," he said grumpily. 

"Is that any way to talk to your future husband?" 

James froze. "What?" 

"Remember? You told me last night that you were going to marry me." 

James let out a breath slowly, awake and very unhappy. His arms slowly fell to the side and it felt like all the energy had been drained out of him. He'd worked so bloody hard on this plan, and he'd managed to ruin it with four days left. "I told you about that?" 

"Mentioned it in passing more like. Fried potato?" he offered, holding a forkful near James's head. 

James lifted his head, took the bite, then laid his forehead back on Sirius's shoulder pitifully as he chewed. This sucked. Not the potatoes-- the potatoes were good, as always-- but the plan. He had the main list, and a secondary list for what order he needed to do everything in so that he wouldn't run out of time. There was a third list, just to make sure that he'd gotten everything done. And now, all of that was useless. He sighed. 

"That bad?" 

"The food's great," he said, turning his head to the side and kissing Sirius's neck. "Just hungover." 

Sirius hummed, and that was that. 

*

It was Sirius's birthday, and Sirius had insisted that James should go get the cake they'd ordered because it was his birthday and he shouldn't be doing anything but basking in the glory of being a full year older than the last time he'd had ice cream cake-- his favourite muggle indulgence. 

James was juggling the cake and the bag of chocolates that Sirius had mirrored him to ask for on his way home, trying to open the door. He could have put the bag on the ground and then opened it, but he was James fucking Potter and he wasn't going to do this the easy way when he'd struggled this much. He managed to get the door open after only twenty seconds, and thankfully nothing-- like the expensive, irreplaceable cake-- fell. 

He kicked his shoes off and started for the kitchen, only to slow to a stop. There was glitter on the ground. There were candles lining the pathway and flower petals dancing atop the flames. James narrowed his eyes, following the pathway to the kitchen suspiciously; this was his plan. This was the set-up he'd outlined for the beginning of the proposal. When he walked into the kitchen, Sirius saw him and beamed. James looked around the small room, seeing everything exactly as he'd planned. The food, the lighting, even the decoration on the chairs, which he'd planned on transfiguring for the occasion. He set the cake down on the counter dumbly, looking at the scene. It was... perfect. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, according to James's vision. 

"Hey sweetheart." 

James looked over to him. "How did you do all this?" 

"A little magic and a lot of time. Lots of magic and lots of time, to be honest," he said, even though that isn't what James had meant. Sirius crossed the room in a few steps and kissed James softly. "Hungry?" He opened the oven-- which was turned off-- and pulled the put-together plates out of their stasis charms. He set them on the table with a small bow and a flourished hand gesture. 

"Si..." James trailed off, swallowing down the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. "You didn't have to do all this." 

"Excuse you, Mister Potter, but this is my birthday and my favourite person in the world has been telling me that I should celebrate it. This is a purely selfish dinner, I don't know what you think it is but think again." 

James chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, love." When Sirius gestured for him to sit, he did, grinning stupidly as Sirius pushed his chair in and brushed a kiss to his cheek before going to the other side of the table to sit. 

They ate, making idle chit-chat as they cleared their plates. James knew what was coming. Of course he did, he'd planned this to every detail, but it still hit him hard when-- after setting their plates on the counter-- Sirius knelt by his side instead of taking his seat again. Smiling warmly up at him, Sirius took one of his hands, rubbing his thumbs along the thin lines of bones on the back of James's hand. "How long have we been together?" 

James smile widened. "Oh a few years I think." 

"Yeah. Feels like a lot longer though, like we've been together forever." 

"And like we might as well agree to be together for the rest of forever since we've made it this far. I wrote this speech Sirius, I know how it goes." 

"Sure but that doesn't make it any less true for me," Sirius countered, looking more in love than ever. 

"You can't propose with a speech you stole." 

"Stole? What proof do you have of that Mister Potter?" 

"I'm the one that wrote it." 

"Perhaps," Sirius said, removing one of his hands from James's to reach inside his pocket and pull out a piece of paper, "but I'm the one with the draft of it right here." 

"That's my handwriting," James laughed. 

"What's yours is mine, and with possession being nine tenths of the law, I think that makes this proposal all mine." 

James just continued to laugh, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Sirius's mouth. "I love you. So much. Thank you for doing this." 

"No problem," Sirius said, nuzzling their noses. "I know how disappointed you were at it not being a surprise. You've been moping for the last three days straight; I'm glad you're over it now." 

"Getting engaged to the love of your life will do that to a bloke." 

"Technically you didn't say yes," Sirius pointed out. 

"Technically you didn't ask." 

"It was implicit." 

"I don't think implicit works for most proposals." 

"Well then you just have to answer one question: is this most proposals?" 

"No," James said quietly, the air heavy like a blanket in the winter. 

"Which would mean?" 

"That my fiancee is a a trickster who managed to turn this around on me." 

Sirius grinned. "Guilty as charged. If it makes you feel any better, I don't have a ring. The jeweler said he couldn't do it on such short notice." 

"Does that mean I win this proposal?" 

"We just got engaged; we both win." 

"Life is a competition," James said, "and I'm in it to win." 

"You're ridiculous," Sirius said, pressing a quick kiss to James's lips. "And a winner." 

[quinzelade]

Making One’s Bones (chpt 9)

Chapter List

–

Porter Gage is in a pickle. Nuka-World needed a new boss and some woman just killed her way to the top. But a pre-war Mafia boss on the theme park’s throne? Well…at least she’ll have experience.

–

Acquired Tastes

–

The teetering sign outside Jack’s place was almost bigger than her lopsided brothel. Gage chuckled to himself as they drew near, remembering her poor attempt at advertising, that somehow still brought in the business. Probably because there was nothing in the Commonwealth quite like it. Still holding Bossanova up, Gage stopped a few feet from the ginormous sign, craning his neck up to read it.

“Jacqueline “Jack” “Call Me By My Surname and I’ll Kill You” Paddywack is a raider with a bad name and an even badder attitude!

“Want chems? Jack’s got you covered!

“Murder? Only the finest, cleanest cut throats this side of the Commonwealth!*

“Prostitution? Pick your piece of ass and Jack’ll name her price!**

“Slaves?

“No. Come on now, what the fuck, man?

“…Nah, just kiddin’ ya. Seriously, we’ve got shitloads of slaves.

“So come on down to Jack Paddywack’s Fun Shack, the baddest place in town!”

Gage bent over double laughing, managing to set Bossanova down before he dropped her on her ass. Time and time again, he’d told Jack to change her stupid sign. She’d read a stack of pre-war magazines with some of the worst advertisements known to man, and yet believed she’d hit an untapped goldmine.

His eye trailed to the small print beneath the huge, white letters of Jack’s erratic slogans, and burst out into fresh peals of laughter.

“*Unless specified otherwise—see terms and conditions for full details and special orders

**Deathclaw orders for premium members only. Jack Paddywack’s “Wack That Jack” Prostitution Services claims no responsibility for any injury, including blood loss, amputation of limbs, beheading, severed genitals, internal bleeding, organ failure, broken bones, punctured lungs, hemorrhaging of the brain, heart failure, radiation poisoning, and minor bruising. All deathclaw packages are non-refundable upon survival.”

Tears were now streaming down his face as he choked and spluttered, Bossanova squinting up at the sign in utter bewilderment from her place on the ground. Only Jack would do something like th—

Bang.

Gage scrambled for his sidearm as he dragged Bossanova upright again, before remembering it had been fried in the underground facility. Then he stopped, a tight feeling in his chest.

Jack Paddywack leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms, plump lips twisted into a familiar coy smile. Her sienna skin glowed in the rising light of the wasteland sun, and Gage dimly noticed she’d changed her hair, shaving the sides and twisting the rest into a fierce, black knot at the top of her head. Her strong nose was now slightly crooked, and he wondered how long it had been since he’d last seen her.

“Going to shoot me, Gage?” she purred, gesturing to his empty holster.

“I asked him the same thing,” Bossanova muttered as Gage grinned, though his chest still felt constricted.

He let his eye travel over her a little, enough for her to notice, and then met her gaze again. She raised an eyebrow. Gage ignored this and nodded to the sign. “‘Wack That Jack’? Since when did you arrange deathclaw fucking?”

“Since there was a market for it,” Jack replied sweetly. “With the right precautions, my clients live long enough to be repeat customers. And believe me, they pay big for the survival.”

They stared at each other, and then broke out into snickers. Gage’s stomach tightened at her smile.

Bossanova coughed lightly, reminding him that she was here. Jack turned to her, and glanced questioningly back at him. “Who’s the ghoul? I didn’t realise you’d need my special services.”

Gage shot Jack a withering look. “She’s—”

“Overboss,” Bossanova replied crisply, straightening up a little and fixing Jack with a lofty stare. “And you?”

“Madame of Nuka World,” Jack said with equal abruptness.

“Oh good. Men are easier to keep in line when they’re getting laid, and the women less likely to blow their heads off.”

Jack blinked and then snorted with laughter. Bossanova grinned back.

“I’m Jack,” Jack said, looking a little more relaxed.

“Mrs. Bossanova.”

“Mind if we crash in one of your rooms for a while?” Gage interjected, conscious of the rising sun. “Figured it’d be quiet at this time of the morning, and I don’t want to parade her in front of the others like this.”

Jack tilted her head to the side. “But you think it’s safe to bring her here?”

“Yeah, well, I…”

I trust you.

Gage pushed the dangerous idea away quickly. No. Not even Jack. “Look, will you fucking help me or not?”

Jack snorted and unfolded her arms. “You always had such a way with words.” She frowned and then sighed. “Fine. Get her in.”

Gage grunted in thanks and helped Bossanova over the threshold.

“Of course, you still have to pay.” Jack slammed the door behind them.

--

Jack’s brothel had the strange feeling of home. To others it was just a whorehouse, and a good one at that, but to Gage, the place spoke of comfort. The furniture was all in working condition, the lights were dim, the rooms pleasantly warm, and the surfaces clean of blood. There was a small shelf full of books and magazines, which were also the only things in the place not nailed down. He knew as well as Jack raiders would never bother to steal them, even if they ever learned to read.

Jack led the way up the narrow stairs to the topmost floor, and waved her hand at an open doorway down the hall from her private quarters. Gage dumped Bossanova unceremoniously onto the sagging bed, and she squawked in surprised as she landed with a heavy flump. Bossanova kicked out irritably, catching him hard on the ass, and he leapt away, swearing.

“I’d have done the same,” Jack said between giggles. She flapped her hand at him, shooing him from the room. “Ladies only. Gotta patch her up.”

Gage slunk out, trying to ignore his own aches and pains, and limped down the hall to a room Jack pointed out to him a few moments before. Slowly, he took his armour off and set it down on the floor, every inch of him protesting. He made his way to the bed, sitting down and staring around, unsure what to do with himself. None of his visits here had been for anything but the obvious.

After a while, Jack came in. Gage felt his stomach tense.

“She’s out like a light,” Jack said. “Had to up the med-x dosage, but we got there in the end.” She paused thoughtfully. “Gotta say, she don’t look like much.”

“Underestimating her is a bad idea,” Gage replied, thinking of the Safari Adventure. “Though I’ll admit you ain’t seein’ her at her best.”

“What happened?”

“Imagine deathclaws, but bigger, stronger, and more pissed off.”

“I’m imagining it.”

“Now imagine Nuka Town full of ‘em; a machine producin’ more and more.”

“Ah. Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I could work them into my special services somehow…”

Gage snorted with laughter, then grunted as pain shot through his midriff. Jack walked over, stopping in front of him. She tucked her fingers under his chin and forced him to gaze up at her. “You look like crap,” she said gently.

“I feel it too.” Gage resisted yawning. It had been a rough day, and an even rougher night. He absentmindedly put his hand against her leg, but she suddenly let go, stepping back.

“Oh no no no. You know the rules.” She grinned her wicked grin, pulling out a handful of stimpaks and passing them to him, along with a single syringe of med-x. “If you don’t have an infection by now, then the stimpaks already cleared it up. You can do the rest.” Jack’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, and then she sauntered from the room.

Gage watched her go, before lying back on the bed and covering his face with the crook of his elbow.

Damn it.

--

Three days later, Bossanova was up and walking again. Gage noticed her attitude had become frosty since they’d first arrived, barely speaking to him. Finally, Gage decided he’d had enough. He found her downstairs in the brothel’s waiting area on the third morning reading a book titled ‘The Iceman.’ He paid it little notice. Reading wasn’t really his thing. “Boss,” he said as he settled himself in a chair opposite her.

“Gage,” she replied, her tone cold and clipped.

He folded his arms and stared at her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Bossanova didn’t answer immediately, her eyes flicking to the end of the page. Then she glanced up at him, her face impassive. “Care to elaborate?”

“Oh don’t try to bullshit me. You’ve been funny ever since we got here.”

“And why,” she said delicately, returning to her book, “would you care? As you reminded me the other day, we’re not friends. So if we’re not friends, then we’re just business associates, and that means I won’t waste small talk on you.” She raised her hand and waved him away lazily.

Gage didn’t move. He blinked, rattling his brain to figure out what she was on about. Suddenly it struck him. When they’d left Safari Adventure they’d argued—although if he was honest with himself, he’d bitten her head off and she’d refused to rise fully to the bait. “But…”

“The last few days I’ve been bedridden, either out of my mind on painkillers, or in absolute agony. But the peace and quiet has been nice, and exhaustion has left me with little tolerance right now. I’m tired of you trusting me, only to panic and compensate by treating me like dirt straight after. It’s boring.” Bossanova turned a page in her book idly. “So go away until you’ve decided where I stand with you.”

She said it with such finality Gage knew the conversation was over.

Well, it was what he’d wanted, Gage thought as he climbed the stairs to the top floor of the brothel. Or was it? He’d gotten so used to her warm and friendly demeanour, the opposite was like being dropped into a frigid lake.

Gage snapped from his thoughts as Jack stepped out from the shadows, poking him hard in the stomach. He grunted in surprise and raised an eyebrow.

“No pain?” she asked sweetly.

“No pain,” Gage confirmed, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Good thing I’m around to save your ass.” She poked him in the stomach again, catching him off-guard. Laughing, she said, “Not much of a raider to fall for the same shit twice.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, biting back a grin.

“Your boss is doing fine too,” Jack went on. “Did you know ghouls are immune to disease? I can’t tell if she’s bullshitting me, but apparently nothing can survive long enough to cause an infection. She doesn’t have a fever, so I’m taking her word for it.”

Gage didn’t want to admit he had no idea what caused infection other than dirt, so said nothing. Apparently not getting sick was one of the perks of being a ghoul.

“Anyway,” Jack continued, her voice low as she leaned towards him. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up yet.”

“Lead the way.”

Her eyes lit up mischievously and she motioned for him to follow.

He watched her ass as he walked behind her, and felt himself stir at the knowing grins she shot over her shoulder. How she could look so good in loose fitting combat pants and a stained flannel shirt, he didn’t know.

“You still off the booze?” she said to him from across the kitchen as Gage dropped into a nearby chair.

“Yeah,” he said, surprised she’d remembered. She tossed him a Nuka Cola, and he caught it with one hand and quickly prised the cap off on the coffee table. His attempt to show off was rewarded with the bottle slipping, spilling cola everywhere, and Gage swore as Jack laughed. She threw a dirty scrap of fabric which hit him in the face, but he mopped it up quickly without complaint before dropping the rag at his feet.

“So,” she said, settling down in the chair opposite him, a glass of vodka to hand, “last time I saw you, you were telling me about your grand plans to get rid of Colter.”

“Last time I saw you, your nose was straight,” Gage quipped.

“One of the customers got a little too rowdy,” Jack said, rubbing her crooked nose absentmindedly. “Nothing a shotgun couldn’t cure.”

“Customer?” Gage sat up rigidly, the tight feeling returning to his stomach. “I thought you didn’t take customers anymore?”

“I don’t. He was bothering one of my girls.”

“Right.” Gage tried to settle again.

Jack leaned forward, smirking. “So...your plan worked?”

He was grateful for the change of topic. “Sorta. The new boss is shaping up. Not what I was expecting, but she knows how to keep Nisha in line and she’s actually trying to get this place running, so fuck it. It’ll work itself out.”

“I’ll admit, I thought something went wrong,” Jack said, looking oddly serious. “When you stopped turning up, I thought you might have cut your losses and left, or...or worse.”

Silence filled the room.

Gage drained his cola for something to do, and Jack got to her feet, clutching her vodka like a grenade. “I’ll get you another drink.”

He watched her as she bustled away, feeling warm. It had been Gage who’d convinced Jack to move to the park in the first place. He’d known her for a long time—as long as he could have known anyone. She wasn’t associated with any gang, but she had the balls and smarts to carve out a neat piece for herself in the raider world. The others knew not to fuck with her—she was the queen of the whore market, and could cater to every and any taste. Gage thought she’d be perfect for keeping things from boiling over in Nuka Town.

What he hadn’t expected was his reliance on her after shit really began to hit the fan. When Colter’s attitude and Nisha’s threats drove him to the edge of his patience, Gage had come here and lost himself for a night or two every week.

Gage stood up. He suddenly felt hot—far too hot. Had to be the fucking armour. He undid the straps and with a grunt pulled it off, setting it on the floor. By the time he was done, Jack was by his side, holding out a fresh bottle of cola. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her, and he sat himself back down, staring at her feet.

“Well, I’m glad you ain’t dead anyway,” Jack said, flopping into her chair and crossing her legs. “The girls would have missed you.”

Gage snorted, meeting her eye again. “I haven’t been with one of your girls in years.”

“I know.” She grinned. “Yet you kept coming back.”

“And you kept lettin’ me.” He stretched out, relaxing again. The weird atmosphere in the room was seeping away, the familiar, comfortable buzz of lust taking over instead. He could see it in her hungry expression, feel it in himself.

Gage swigged on his cola, anticipation coursing through him. They both knew what happened whenever he visited. Jack didn’t even charge him for it anymore, and he told himself that was the reason he returned so often.

Jack stared at him from across the room, her dark eyes twinkling over the rim of her glass. She sipped the vodka deliberately, carefully. Gage could see the liquid clinging to those fine lips. She ran a finger over the glass and then sucked the alcohol off it, never breaking eye contact. Gage’s imagination immediately went into overdrive. He took another gulp of cola and choked as it went straight up his nose.

“Smooth as ever,” Jack said, grinning. She drained her glass and set it down carelessly. “Are we playing games today, or should we just skip to the fucking?”

“Skip to the fucking.”

“Good.”

She was on her feet and halfway across the room before Gage was even out of his seat. Jack shoved him back against the wall with a bang and pressed her mouth against his, her hand massaging his crotch. Gage’s heart pounded as he dragged her shirt over her head and threw it aside, before bending down and running his tongue over her breast. She seized him by the jaw and forced him back against the wall, tilting her head to the side.

“Have you forgotten the rules?” she murmured into his ear as she pulled at his belt, loosening it. “How things are done under my roof?”

“No,” Gage replied, the feel of her hand at his throat intensifying the urge to have her. “I just wanted to try my luck.”

“Did you?” Jack’s fingers tugged down his zipper and her hand slipped inside his pants, running along him the way she knew he liked it. She kept the pace for a few seconds and then stopped, biting gently on his ear. “I think you need to earn my good graces. What will you do for them, hmm?”

“Anything,” Gage mumbled, wanting to pick her up and fuck her where they stood. But he wasn’t allowed to touch. Not yet.

“Anything?”

Gage swallowed and nodded. Jack’s eyes lit up with mischief. She kissed him hard, nipping at his lip and gripping his hair as she ground against him. Her breasts pushed on his chest, and it took all his resolve not to reach up and run his hands over them. Jack’s teasing was merciless, and by the end of the night he would be a desperate mess.

God, he loved it.

“Undress me,” she whispered as she played with him.

Gage obeyed, knowing he’d have to move himself away from her tantalising strokes to free her from her clothes. He worked quickly, resisting returning the favour. He’d get his chance later. Within seconds, Jack was standing naked before him, and she pushed him back, her eyes telling him he still wasn’t allowed to touch. She rewarded his obedience by taking hold of him again and picking up the rhythm, smirking when he groaned and leaned his head against the wall.

Jack hooked a finger inside his mouth and pulled his head down to face her. Her kisses were fierce now, and slowly she ran her palm across his face. Gage felt almost drunk, her touch hot on his skin. Her fingers stopped over the strap of his makeshift eyepatch. There was a pause as their eyes met, and she tugged at it, trying to pull it away.

Gage clamped his hand over hers.

Shit.

They stared at each other, Jack looking surprised. Panic shot through him. He hadn’t meant to do it, hadn’t even thought about it. He’d never stopped her before, but then she’d never tried to do that either. Would she think he was weak, or pathetic, or…?

Jack smiled a soft smile, softer than Gage could ever have imagined on her sweet lips. She eased her hand away, letting it fall onto his shoulder with a small squeeze. She kissed him gently, tenderly, and for a moment, Gage didn’t know what to do. Then her next utterance sent a thrill through him.

“Kneel.”

It was the command he’d been hoping for, and his awkwardness evaporated. Gage grabbed Jack by the shoulders and slammed her bodily into the wall, dropping to his knees without hesitation. He didn’t wait for further instruction, but pressed his mouth between her legs, staring up at her. Her thighs trembled beneath his grip as Gage began to worship her with his tongue.

--

The walk back to Nuka Town was uncomfortably silent. It was as if he wasn’t there, Bossanova strolling ahead and humming, admiring the scenery as she went. Gage skulked some distance behind, battling with himself. Jack had been a nice distraction—the distraction he always needed when things were difficult. But now he was with his thoughts, and there was no more dangerous place to be.

Did he trust the boss?

Against all his better judgement, he wanted to. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Like Connor, Bossanova made a very good show of caring. Gage had believed every lie, every false act, every gesture designed to put him right in the firing line. But he was older now, wiser. He wouldn’t fall for it again.

And yet…

“Boss?” Gage said, before he lost his nerve. To his great surprise, she stopped and turned to him expectantly. His question solidified in his throat. He couldn’t talk to her about this again. He just couldn’t. She’d already said she was done with him. It was better this way.

Bossanova stared at him for a few moments, and then continued walking. Gage followed her, kicking himself, until she spoke. “Good time with Jack last night?”

Gage nearly tripped over his own feet. She was looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes stern but her mouth twisted as if trying not to laugh. He grunted in response.

“I could hear Jack from downstairs,” Bossanova went on as if they were discussing which Nuka Cola was their favourite.

“Yeah, she’s not exactly quiet,” Gage muttered.

“I’m sure you did fine.”

“God, please shut up.”

Bossanova laughed as his cheeks grew steadily hot, and Gage gritted his teeth. He made a point to march ahead, which took some effort, as he had to catch up to her before overtaking her in an aggressively dignified sort of way.

“So is Jack your girlfriend?”

Gage glanced over his shoulder and did stumble this time. “Girlfriend?”

“You know. Your partner. Love of your life. Etcetera.”

“No. We just fuck.”

Bossanova frowned a little at this and picked up her pace so she was walking alongside him again. It was as if they were trying to race without running. “Ever had a girlfriend?”

“No,” Gage said, wondering where the hell this was going. “Never wanted one.”

“So she’s your friend?”

“No.” He was starting to get exasperated with her prying. “Never needed them either.”

“Why n—?”

“Why all the questions?” Gage snarled. “You wouldn’t speak to me yesterday.”

“Didn’t like that, huh?”

“I couldn’t have given less of a fuck,” he lied, staring out to Nuka World in the distance and wondering how long it would take to finally get there.

“Ah. And there was me hoping Jack would fix your nasty temper.”

“Keep hoping. I’m a miserable bastard whatever happens.”

“Except when Jack is asking you to—”

“You finish that sentence and I’ll shoot you and then myself,” Gage snapped. Bossanova burst into peals of laughter, stopping where she stood and clutching her sides. He glared valiantly at her for a few seconds, and then felt his lips crack into an unwilling smile.

“Next time we’re at Jack’s just pick a piece of ass for yourself. Then you can spare me all the fucking questions. I’m sure Jack will give you a discount.”

“No thanks,” she said, starting up again in a slow stroll. “Not really my thing.”

“What, Jack?” Gage said, matching her pace without thinking.

“No.”

“...fucking?”

“Uh-huh.”

He stared at her. For a moment he considered asking her about Nicky again directly, but decided against it. The topic was dangerous water and she wasn’t in the best of moods. Tact was required here, which he obviously had in bucketloads. “I don’t...but...everyone fucks. Even ghouls. I knew some raiders with...tastes.”

“Not me.” When Gage continued to gawk, she said, in a horrible rendition of his accent, “Why do you care?” Bossanova grinned. “Relationships and everything in-between aren’t my bag. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful? No offence, boss, but you’re not my type.”

“Oh my God.” She rolled her eyes. “The feeling is extremely mutual, idiot.”

“Then why would I be—?”

“I think with my brain and not my…” She made a vague gesture in the direction of Gage’s crotch.

Gage flushed. “I don’t think with my dick.”

“I know. But some do. So be glad we have the same priorities.”

He shook his head. “This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.”

Bossanova gave him a mocking look of sympathy. “I know. And think how sick of it I must be after two-hundred and ninety years of the same stupid questions.”

“You started it!”

She laughed. “True, true. Call it quits then?”

“Yeah, I think that’s for the fuckin’ best.”

They walked on, the silence returning and enveloping them like a blanket. Gone was the tension, but despite this, Gage could feel the conversation they’d almost had as they’d escaped Safari Adventure scratching the inside of his skull. It demanded attention, and strangely enough, this time he didn’t feel as afraid to talk about it.

“Boss,” he tried again, his mouth drying.

She looked at him, smiling faintly. “Gage?”

“Yesterday, when we was walkin’ to Jack’s, you...you asked me why I couldn’t understand…” Gage licked his lips, his chest tight with nerves. “You wanted me to ‘explain myself,’ whatever that means.” He slowed to a stop, rubbing the back of his head, before letting out a long sigh and meeting her eye. “What do you want to know?”

“Why do you hate the idea of trusting people?” she said at once.

Well, that was an easy enough question to answer. “Because every fucker is out for himself,” Gage said bluntly, folding his arms. “I learned that when I was sixteen.” He paused, gripping his own arms, the bitterness of the long gone encounter rising up through his throat like bile. “I worked hard to be an asset, and my payment was for some mediocre, two-bit punk to stab me in the back.”

“Tell me about it,” Bossanova said gently.

He considered saying no—all these years later and Connor’s betrayal still smarted. But then suddenly it vomited from his lips, decades of pent-up resentment spewing out into the open air. And once he started, he found he couldn’t stop.

“I became a raider young,” Gage said to the ground, scowling at a small rock as he went. “Didn’t matter ‘bout my age, though I also lacked the sense to know when to keep my mouth shut. Had more brains than the gang put together, and they all fuckin’ knew it—could tell by the look on their faces every time I offered suggestions to help make us all stronger. None of them liked it, but my ideas worked. So much so, I was eventually approached by Connor.”

“Connor?”

“The leader. Called himself some stupid-ass title back then—‘The Harvester’ or whatever.” Despite himself, Gage let out a snort of laughter. He glanced up without thinking, and saw Bossanova smirking too. All at once, he felt his body relax, though he quickly avoided her eye again. He went on. “I thought Connor might be pissed, think I was undermining his authority. But he took my advice instead.”

Gage still remembered the evening Connor came to him. The overwhelming sense of pride, inflating his ego to dangerous proportions. Blinding him to the risks, just out of sight. Gage smiled bitterly. “So here I am, this teenage punk who's got the ear of what seems like the most powerful guy around. I'm on top of the damn world. Connor's always coming to me, asking what I think of his plans, telling me how much he trusts me.” He hesitated. “Can't lie—it all went to my head.”

Bossanova’s expression was too knowing for his liking. She nodded. “Would go to any kid’s head, I imagine.”

“Yeah, well…” Gage coughed, stalling for time. “After about a year, we come up with this plan to make peace with a rival gang—work the whole thing out in secret. Meet on neutral ground, a backup plan in case shit went south, and me negotiating with them.”

He paused, remembering his exhilaration at being included, at being needed. Connor trusted him to play the most vital role.

“Did it all go to hell?” Bossanova asked, apparently reading his mind.

“Pretty much.” Gage sighed. “Just as talks were gettin’ somewhere, I hear the gunfire and the explosions. And at first I’m thinkin’, ‘Oh shit, something went wrong. Connor’s gonna have to bail us out.’”

“But…?”

“But...I eventually picked up on the real plan. The fucker set me up, and I fell for it. Probably thought he’d got everythin’ he could from me. Probably saw me as a threat.” Gage clenched his jaw shut. “Used me as a diversion, then pissed off the other gang. He gets their stuff and I die in the crossfire. Perfect day for him. Perfect reward for my fuckin’ stupidity.”

Bossanova studied him for a while. Her face was set in a peculiar expression—soft, but searching, as if trying to see right into him.

“Don’t know how the fuck I survived, but I did,” said Gage, feeling like he might as well finish the story properly. “Thought about finding Connor and putting a bullet in his head, but that was just the anger talking. Knew where it would end up. So I learned from it and moved on. Everybody looks after themselves.” He glared at her, and she stared back, her face unreadable. He didn’t give a damn. “I’m no different. And neither are you.”

“No,” Bossanova said softly. “I suppose not.”

“So stop with the bullshit. Stop pretending. We’re both using each other to get to the top of the shit heap, and that’s as far as it goes. But at least I’m fucking honest about it.”

“Just because I’m using you to get to the top,” Bossanova replied, the same strange expression on her face, “doesn’t mean I won’t help you up when I get there.”

Gage stared at her, his anger over Connor ebbing away. It felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders—a weight that he’d become so used to, he’d forgotten it was even there. Only with its removal had Gage finally recognised its presence and the damage it had done. And with the sudden lightness of his soul, he saw something else in its place. Something he couldn’t deny, as much as it worried him.

Gage sighed, rubbing his eye. “Look...I get what you’re trying to do. I really do.” He let his hand drop. “I don’t trust easily. At all, in fact. Connor fucked me over too hard for that.” Gage paused, but Bossanova didn’t speak, letting him say his piece. “I’ve been ‘round raiders for years, seen some shit—done most of it myself. I know what people are capable of an’ it ain’t pretty. But…”

He finally looked her full in the face. Bossanova wore a blank expression, her gaze sharp and focused on him. “Shit, can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but...I’m beginning to suspect you ain’t like that, boss. If you are, then I knew all along and it’s no big deal. An’ if you’re not...well, we’ll see.”

He shrugged awkwardly, his heart hammering at exposing such vulnerability. But Bossanova beamed at him. “That’s all I needed to hear. Knew I’d get it out of you eventually.”

“Yeah yeah,” Gage grumbled, biting back a grin, feeling weak at the knees all of a sudden. “Enough talking. Let’s go kill some shit.”

“We need guns for that. I say when we get back, we stock up and move onto the next section of the park—come back for the gatorclaws when we’re good and ready. Unless you want to rest up first?”

“No,” he replied, hardly daring to believe his ears. She was making plans, pushing for more land without him fighting with her over it. Without her acting like Colter. “Any ideas where you wanna hit next?”

“I say we go for a stroll, see where the mood takes us.”

Gage chuckled. “I can get behind that, boss. I can get behind it.”

--

A/N: Hi everyone. Sorry this is a little late. Going through a rough patch in my personal life right now, and I decided to drink alcohol instead of doing anything productive yesterday. Then I remembered I hadn't posted the chapter, but was too drunk to do anything about it at that point.

If you're enjoying my story, please consider leaving a comment! It really does mean the world to me.

Jack is one of my favourite characters I've ever made. She was created on a whim, when I received an ask telling me to make up a Fallout character on the spot. The sign outside the brothel was what I came up with, and down the line when I started writing MOB, I realised I HAD to include Jack.

[artificialqueens]

Make You Believe (Ravjila) - Juniper

Summary: Manila works too many hours in an old diner, but it’s worth it when a customer catches her interest. That is, until she becomes involved with someone from Manila’s past. 10K.

Saturday mornings weren’t complete without at least three coffee stains and a vow to never look at another egg again.

It was nauseating and exhausting, but Manila wouldn’t trade the breakfast rush for the world. Or so she made the customers believe, with an artificial twinkle in her eye. The clank of metal spoons against porcelain cups, mixed with the grumbles of insufferable elderlies hidden behind newspapers, was a surefire way to light a flame under her ass and remind her that this was all a way to fund her dreams.

As miserable as it got, there were things she enjoyed, too. There were the regulars who always commented on how nice she looked, even when her mascara was smudged and her hair stuck up in six different directions. She liked seeing the lit up faces of little kids when she snuck them the last chocolate chip cookie when her manager wasn’t looking.

Royale’s was one of the oldest places to eat in town, and even through many renovations, it kept its’ charm. The bar was lined with red leather stools, matching the jukebox next to the front door. It was usually playing some old soulful hit, and Manila danced to the music during closing time as she mopped the black and white tiled floors. Classic metal Coca Cola signs adorned the walls, beside framed photos of the diner hitting milestones throughout the years. The kitchen was in the back, and Manila pinned orders to clotheslines, picking up prepared plates through a small window.

Even though half the time it was covered in syrup, she loved her uniform. She and the other girls all sported the same dress, each in a different color. Manila’s was mint with pale, yellow accents and it suited her well, in her humble opinion. It was part of what had drawn her to apply two years prior, and she still felt a little giddy when she saw them all in a line, like a pretty, vintage rainbow.

Carmen always stayed at the register, in burnt orange, blowing bubbles and batting her eyelashes. Her pretty face was supposed to be the first and last thing the customers saw, as to coax them into returning. A girl like Carmen was one that you didn’t forget.

Shangie was a vision in red, but you always heard her about five minutes before you saw her. She and a purple-clad Juju always kept the customers engaged and entertained. They had big laughs, and even bigger personalities. They kept Manila’s spirits up when she was in the tail-end of a nine hour shift, dirty mouths getting them in trouble on more than one occasion.

Their senior manager was named George, and more often than not, he treated the girls rottenly. If he did have a soft spot for them, he had a funny way of showing it.

Pancakes and sausages turned into burgers and fries as the time on the clock drilled on, and sometimes she didn’t even notice she had sat on an open mustard packet until she got home. But despite the headaches, Royale’s was like a second home to Manila.

They’d have to start getting ready for lunch soon, Manila thought, as she restocked sugar packets. Juju nudged her in the side, and put her mouth right up to her ear, much too close for comfort.

“Hottie alert,” she whispered. “Check out the girl in Shangela’s section.”

She was in a booth across the diner, with a menu blocking out her face. Manila could make out a long, silvery ponytail. The girl was wearing black leather shorts, and dark legs shot out, seeming to extend for miles. She was clearly a stranger to Royale’s.

This was a mystery, and Manila was interested in getting a closer look to see if Juju was onto something.

“Just take her,” her coworker urged. “Shangela is off giving her hourly halleloo to some undeserving victim.”

Manila nodded and straightened out her apron before emerging from behind the bar. She strolled over, white tennis shoes still retaining some squeak.

“Hi, I’m Manila, and I’ll be your server today,” she said, always finding a way to make it sound overly-chipper. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

The girl closed her menu and smiled up at her. If it wasn’t a process forever programmed into the depths of Manila’s brain, she may have faltered.

She had big, brown eyes and a pretty smile. Manila was a little jealous of how the light hit her face, her cheekbones glittering excellently. The fluorescent lighting always made her look a little tired, yet the girl in front of her made her feel wide awake.

“Hey! How’s the coffee?”

Her voice was intriguingly deep, and when she talked her head quirked slightly to the left, causing her earrings to swing.

“Fresh, if that’s what you’re asking,” Manila replied. “But I’m supposed to say it’s delicious.”

The girl giggled into her palm, and while her eyes were shut, Manila snuck a glance back at Juju, who was shooting her an unsubtle thumbs-up. Manila made a mental note to smack her with a menu later.

“I’ll take your word for it, then. Do you guys have like a bagel or something?”

“Well, breakfast is over, but there’s one of my blueberry muffins in the back. If you want it, it’s yours.”

The girl smiled again, and Manila had to resist the urge to audibly thank her lucky stars that her curls were looking right today, and that her new coconut perfume was still lingering.

“You’re an angel.”

When she brought out her order, the girl looked at her with wide eyes as she was chewing on the muffin. Manila laughed as she poured the steaming beverage into her cup.

“You really made this? You’re amazing.”

“I’m alright,” Manila said. “It���s just a hobby of mine, and my manager lets me sell some of my creations. Baking is a good way to relieve stress, you know.”

“For you, maybe,” she replied, tearing open a sugar packet, letting the white granules trickle out. “The kitchen is the last place you’ll find me. I’d burn the whole place down.”

Manila didn’t believe her, but the thought was amusing.

Her name was Raja, she later found out from Carmen, who had snuck a glance at her debit card. Say what you want about the pretty ones; Carmen had an eye for detail.

After she’d gone, and Manila went to collect her tip, she noticed a napkin stuck under the salt shaker. It had been drawn on, in pen. An impressive illustration of the Gemini symbol, guarded by twin pairs of eyes. She folded the napkin and stuck it in her apron pocket.

Raja came back almost a week later, this time around mid-afternoon. Shangie begrudgingly handed Juju a dollar.

“I saw the way she looked at you,” she gloated, sticking the bill in her bra. “I knew she’d be back.”

After Raja had placed her order, Manila was pretending to wipe down the counters as she watched her aggressively type things into her phone. Every few minutes she’d let out a hefty sigh, and eventually, she  gave up in favor of staring out the window.

“Waiting for someone, honey?”

Raja looked slightly relieved to see her, but the remaining pout was adorable. Her thin frame was swallowed by a very large denim jacket, littered with buttons and patches, and her hair was only half up. Manila felt like a kitten drawn to a particularly attractive bundle of yarn; she had to resist the urge to reach out and play with it.

“Not hardly. I’m trying to draw these lilies,” she sighed, gesturing to the sketchbook on the table in front of her. “But they look like shit, and I can’t figure out why.”

Manila looked at the page for a moment, humming in thought. She took the pencil stuck behind her ear and vigorously erased.

“You need to shade the edges a bit more here, and curve these lines. It would look a lot better if the petals weren’t so straight. Not even flowers are perfect.”

When she didn’t get a response, she looked up. Raja was wearing a curious smile.

The visits became more frequent, and on the sixth, she showed up during Manila’s lunch break. She spent her time off the clock in the booth with her, and they doodled on the back of the kid menus with crayons. Every now and then, Manila looked to the clock, and spotted Carmen watching them with a sweet smile.

“So how come I’ve never seen you around until recently?”

“I just moved to town,” Raja said, working a red Crayola over the paper. “I wanted a change of pace. This place is really charming.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Manila snorted. “There’s absolutely nothing to do here. Everything about this town is so boring.”

“I wouldn’t say everything.”

Manila smiled.

–

Raja rarely came in empty handed. First, it was the sketch pads, then the books of poetry, and the fashion magazines. She was incredibly stylish, and Manila could swear that Raja modeled all the latest trends three weeks before they hit the stores.

They giggled and gossiped, flirted and fawned. If Manila conveniently forgot to add something to Raja’s bill, Carmen didn’t bring it up. When Manila found her tip folded into an origami heart, she held it close to her own. 

“She’s got it bad, ladies,” Shangela announced. “Look at her! A total love fool.”

The girls were closing up, with Manila mopping the checkered floor, a cheesy grin on her face.

“Don’t be jealous, honey. Green’s not your color.”

 “Listen to this shit,” Juju laughed, nudging Carmen. “It’s just a game of chase! It’s been months and you guys haven’t fucked once.”

“Jujubee! What have I told you about the language?”

Their manager pushed through the swinging door, looking cross. Carmen tried to hide her laughter from behind the dollar bills she was counting.

“Sorry, George,” she sheepishly mumbled.

He sighed heavily, placing his hands on his hips. The air conditioning blew the few hairs in his combover up and down lightly. His eyes looked tired, fatigued by too many years of working too many underappreciated shifts. The girls often wondered how his wife dealt with his hot temper and gloomy outlook. If there was a time when he could keep up an act of happiness out of customer company, it was long gone.

“What am I gonna do with you girls? Always too busy talking to get anything done. Luzon!”

Manila squeaked in acknowledgement.

“Hurry up, you should be done with those floors by now. Especially considering that the dinner rush was pretty slow,” he grunted. “Make sure you clock out on time. If I catch you trying to sneak in overtime again, you’re on suspension.”

“Yes, sir.”

Manila stuck her tongue out at his back as he returned to his office. Juju groaned loudly once he was out of sight.

“God, what a dick,” she huffed, sending the other three into a laughing fit.

–

“But, Carmen,” Manila whined. “We’re never both off on Friday nights!”

Carmen was focused on the roll of quarters she was unwrapping.

“Girl, I love you, but I love my man, too. I can’t bail. Next time, I promise.”

Juju and Shangela had just come back from break, and were failing to pretend to look busy. It was pitifully slow, only a matter of time before George sent at least one of them home for the day.

“How about you spend your time off with someone else,” Shangie hinted.

Manila bit her lip and glanced over to Raja, who just happened to look up at the same time. She waved happily, and Manila beamed.

Juju tossed her a small towel to dry off the clean dishes with.

“Bitch, if you don’t ask her out in the next five minutes, I’m stealing her away.”

“Good luck with that,” Manila snorted.

“Damn! That was so shady, did you two hear that?”

“Seriously,” Carmen interjected. “The girl is obviously crazy about you, Manila. You need to make a move before she finds someone else.”

“Okay, okay!” She exclaimed, holding her hands up in defense. “I’ll…I’ll do it today. I’ll ask her out, alright? I just have to figure out what to say.”

It was then that the bell chimed, and a customer walked through the door.

“Welcome to Royale’s!” Shangela greeted. “Feel free to seat yourself.”

 The girl stayed by the door, on the phone, but offered a polite nod.

“Oh, shit.”

“No way.”

“What?” Shangela turned to see her coworkers with sour expressions. Manila looked particularly disturbed.

“What the hell is she doing here? She hasn’t come in once since I got hired.”

“You got beef with that girl, Manila?”

She had bleached beachy waves, hitting just below her chin. Her makeup was exquisite, and it reminded Manila of something you’d see with a million likes on Instagram. Her manicured fingers clung onto the strap of her designer bag. Even from behind the counter, she could see her piercing eyes, matching her intense aura so well.

Raven was even more beautiful than she remembered.

“Leave it to Manila to be exes with the bitchiest girl from high school,” Carmen whispered harshly.

They were huddled now, trying not to stare. Despite the music from the jukebox, Manila could make out the faint sound of her laughter. She tapped her foot in annoyance, trying not to squeeze the glass in her hand too hard.

“Come on, she’s not that bad,” Juju protested, causing Carmen to roll her eyes. “She can actually be really sweet. Sorry, ‘Nila.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure she has to have at least one face that’s lovely.”

The forgotten girl coughed to get their attention.

“Okay, will someone please fill Shangie in on what’s happening, y’all?”

“Basically,” Carmen started, spitting her gum into a scrap piece of receipt paper. “That girl, Raven, was Manila’s BFF. For, like, ever. Hormones and shit happen, and our girl here falls for her, or whatever. Everything works out, and they start moving in the direction of a relationship. Then, at my Halloween party senior year, they finally hook up. Suddenly, that was the end of it. Raven dropped her, both as a girlfriend and a best friend. Never even gave an explanation.”

“Oh,” Shangela replied awkwardly.

Manila flushed, the memories rushing back to her. People moved to the pounding bass in Carmen’s living room, beer sloshing in plastic cups. The night was cool, but the mood was heated. She was dressed as Audrey Hepburn, classic Breakfast at Tiffany’s get-up, and Raven made a stellar Catwoman. They couldn’t get their hands off each other all night, before finally sneaking off.

She’d never been with a girl before, much less her best friend. Carmen had given her plenty of advice, but Manila was still incredibly nervous. Everything was sweet, tasting like smoke and illegal alcohol. Her hands trembled as she touched Raven’s body, feeling shaken by the purr she released into her ear.

The costumes came off, and the clouds parted, allowing moonlight to creep in through the window. With Raven’s naked, sweaty body on top of her, she began to panic. It was the part she never told Carmen or Juju, or anyone.

Her breathing became irregular, and she began to cry, burying her face in her hands. Her best friend immediately pulled off of her, and brought her close, hugging her gently. She soothed her, whispering sweet affirmations into her hair.

It was the realizations. That yes, this was really it. She was a lesbian, and she’d have to tell her parents and face that the world would feel like it deserved some explanation, as if it were entitled to her heart. This was her virginity, and she was losing it to her best friend. If she messed this up, she’d be losing the person most important to her.

Raven promised that it was okay, she wasn’t angry. Swore that she hadn’t ruined anything. They fell asleep together, covered in nothing but a sheet.

When Manila woke up with a ringing in her ears, she stretched, noting that the bed felt extremely spacious. She pried her eyes open; she was alone.

That was the last she ever heard from Raven. Texts went ignored, and she was avoided in the halls. It was a heartbreak like no other, to lose your best friend and the person you harbored feelings for in the same night. She spent many nights crying, watching the seconds tick by on the clocks in class, every minute dragging by so slowly. Her heart was so heavy, and she felt so alone.

Now, Manila shook her head, attempting to leave the dark period behind her. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why Raven would randomly show up at Royale’s four years after graduation. Was she finally ready to make amends? Did Manila even want that?

“So, you mean to tell me you kissed those lips?” Shangela inquired.

“About five sets of injections ago,” she laughed ostentatiously. Bitterness was easier than sadness.

Carmen joked that there was nothing wrong with a little enhancement, “and really, the bitch could stand a heart transplant”.

“Come on, Car, it was years ago,” Juju groaned. “Can’t we all put it behind us?”

“I take it you’re still buddies with her,” Shangie said. Jujubee looked at the floor.

“You bet,” Carmen said. “Way to be a support system, J.”

“We’re 22 years old. I’m not going to pick teams over something that happened in high school. She didn’t break up with me.”

Finally, Raven hung up her cell, and moved towards a booth, right past the four observing waitresses.

When she slid into Raja’s booth, Juju grabbed Manila’s wrist so fast that she almost dropped the glass.

“Oh, my God. What the hell?”

There was a collective gasp as the four saw Raja and Raven exchange pleasantries, smiles on both faces. Manila felt dizzy.

“What the fuck? What are the odds?” Carmen asked, clearly stunned.

Six different forms of jealousy were taking hold of Manila’s mind, and she could barely see straight. Not only was it unnerving to see her ex-best friend turned ex-lover, but here she was, on a date with the girl Manila had been crazy about for months.

As soon as Raja excused herself to go to the restroom, Manila sped over. She never mustered up the courage to confront Raven during high school, but all of the anger was finally bubbling to the surface, pushing her closer and closer to that booth.

She set down a glass of lemonade rather roughly, causing the ice to loudly shuffle.

Raven looked up, and her face showed a flicker of shock before regaining composure.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Manila spat.

“Nice to see you, too,” she replied evenly.

“Save it, Raven. You don’t come here. You never come here. What’s the deal?”

“There’s no agenda, Manila. I didn’t even know you still worked here,” she sighed.

“Why did you come with Raja?”

“Raja? I wasn’t aware you knew each other. She asked me out, and mentioned this was her favorite place…” her voice trailed off, realization sneaking in. Something ignited in Raven’s eye as she placed her elbow on the table, chin resting in palm. “You like her.”

“No, I don’t,” Manila quickly argued. Her vision honed in on the mole right beneath Raven’s eye, and she was bombarded by confusing feelings and the scent of the same perfume from years past. She gripped the skirt of her dress, knuckles white.

“You do!” She laughed. “How cute. Sorry, Luzon. What do they say, all’s fair in love and war?”

Manila spun on her heel to refrain from saying something that would surely warrant a complaint to management.

When Raja returned, Shangela came to take their order.

“Um, ma’am, what happened to our other waitress?” She frowned. Raven said nothing, stirring her straw.

“She was moved to another section. It happens. Don’t worry, I’ll help you out for the rest of your visit!”

Raja spent half the meal looking distracted, absent-mindedly poking at her salad with her fork. Raven was growing slightly annoyed, as she could tell where the other girl’s gaze kept drifting off to.

“Earth to Raja.”

She looked up and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry! God, I’m being rude,” she said. “How’s the lemonade? I’ve never tried it.”

Raven faltered for a moment, looking down at her glass. She’d been sipping on it the whole time, never realizing that she hadn’t even ordered it.

“Um, it’s my favorite,” she said softly. Raja sighed.

“I was just thinking about our waitress. Why she switched, I mean.”

While she adored her, Raven was growing increasingly curious about the strange love triangle she’d managed to wind up in. Over the past few weeks since they’d met, they learned so much about each other, but she’d never once mentioned Manila. She suspected the lack of communication was a bigger problem than Raja thought.

“Well, I for one enjoy Miss Shangela,” she said, lifting a fry to her mouth. “I think she’s fun. Halleloo!”

“Lord knows you’re hard to impress,” Raja joked. “It’s just…the other girl, she’s always my waitress. We’re pretty good friends…we have so many things in common. I wonder if I pissed her off or something.”

If Raven hadn’t spent years perfecting her poker face, her distaste would be apparent. It would be her luck to find a beautiful girl to catch her attention, only to discover that she was tangled up with Manila Luzon, of all people.

“Maybe she’s jealous.”

Raja seemed to consider the thought for a moment.

“I don’t know, probably not. I used to think she liked me…but she never said anything. God, this is horrible date talk. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re right, you are horrible. I think you owe me a milkshake for all this grief.”

Raja exhaled and took her hand. So, there was something unspoken between the two. Typically, she wouldn’t tangle herself up in these kinds of messes.

But something about Raja’s glittering eyes told her to stay. If she played her cards right, nothing ever had to come of their little crushes.

–

Manila let the cool water run over her hands as she scratched at the goopy spots of syrup, always managing to catch rogue fuzz and dust bunnies. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror above the sink, and scrunched her nose. The good concealer was getting its use today, paired with several coats of mascara to make her look semi-alert.

Her Friday night was spent getting wine drunk on the couch, cursing at Titanic on her television screen. She sobbed loudly, pounding her pillow. It was essential emotional release, she told herself, ignoring the fact that she would have to open the next morning.

She had spent half of the morning rush with her apron turned inside out, moving from table to table in a groggy daze, only delivering their breakfasts by the sheer force of muscle memory.

When George swept by, telling her to smile, she flashed her teeth with dead eyes. He’d be back in five minutes for his coffee, and she seriously considered spitting in it.

Manila peered through the circular window in the swinging door. Since her very first visit, Raja had not missed a Saturday morning at Royale’s, yet now, her booth remained unoccupied. Manila had braced herself, but still felt disappointment. She had something else, now. Someone else.

Drying her hands on her apron, she bumped the door open with her hip. Carmen was catching up with the regulars, handing them individually wrapped toothpicks. All the men always hung around the register a little too long, unable to get enough of her.  

A set of nails tapped on the counter, and Manila turned her attention to them with a smile.

“Um, hi.”

It was Raja, perched on one of the stools, looking nervous. Her cheeks were pink, and she had a small package in front of her. There was one of her little doodles on the side, a cartoonish pineapple with a smiling face.

When Shangela bussed their table, Manila asked for the drawing left under the salt shaker, but all the napkins had was excess lipstick and grease spots.

“I’m not much of a chef, but I tried my hand at baking last night,” she offered. “They’re brownies. For your break.”

Manila didn’t know what to say. What was this? A peace offering? A “sorry I led you on and ended up with your ex” gift? She could practically hear Raven’s gloating laughter.

“Thanks,” was her awkward response.

They looked at each other for a few moments, neither wanting to be the first to say something.

“Um, so,” Manila started.

“I’ll cut right to it. I hate conflict, Manila. What did I do to make you ditch me yesterday?”

“What?” Manila blinked. “Um, nothing. Nothing, you’re fine. George just comes in and rezones us every so often, to make sure we’re not stealing tables from the other girls.”

She was lying, and prayed it wasn’t obvious. Truthfully, Manila had never even bothered to ask Raja to move out of Shangela’s section, and George hadn’t noticed yet.

The fact was that she couldn’t bear to look at Raven a second longer. This was not the reunion she had spent so many years daydreaming about. She was supposed to show up with flowers, grovel at Manila’s feet for forgiveness. Not show up with the same icy attitude and steal her crush away. Rejection from Raja would have been miserable enough, but she could have survived. However, she refused to torture herself by bringing burgers to the happy couple, sharing everything she’d always wanted.

She was feeling nostalgic in the worst of ways, and it sent her into a vicious cycle of emotion, alternating between feeling pissed off and devastated. She had spent the rest of their date spritzing the windows with glass cleaner, wiping aggressive circles into the panes to try and wash away the reflection.

Raja seemed to buy it, judging by the smile on her face.

“Oh, good. I was worried that you were mad at me.”

Manila felt a tug on her heart. Her misery wasn’t Raja’s fault. She hadn’t acted quick enough, and as far as she knew, Raven hadn’t revealed their past. She still cared for Raja, and even if it would take some getting used to, she wasn’t ready to let go of that pretty face.

“I couldn’t be mad at you if I tried,” she admitted.

“Good, because I’d miss you too much,” Raja said. “You make me believe that all of my artistic whims are worth something.” All she could do was smile.

“Go on, try one,” she urged, and Manila unboxed the treats with a giggle. Lifting one of the brownies to her lips, she noticed Raja intensely watching her bite into the chocolate.

“A little dry,” she admitted after a minute. Raja faked offense, grabbing her heart dramatically.

“Maybe you could instruct me sometime, Master Chef Manila.”

Some of the pressure was alleviated from her chest. They spoke easily, like nothing had changed. Maybe it hadn’t. The little devil on Manila’s shoulder brought its’ razor-sharp teeth up to her ear.

One little date didn’t mean anything. She could still have Raja.

–

A few days later, Manila was brushing her teeth when she received a text from Shangela.

Be prepared. They’re here. – Shangie

It sounded overly ominous, but Manila knew her friends were taking this just as seriously as she was. She had to remember to thank them later.

If Manila was going to win Raja’s affection, she needed to commit and pull out all the stops. She dug through her drawers, and pulled out her fanciest push-up bra, the red one with the black lace. Caught around one of the hooks were the matching underwear, and she opted for them as well.

She’d never gotten around to trashing the old uniform that had shrunk a bit in the wash. She pulled the green dress over her head, and felt satisfied when she saw how short the skirt had become.

When she clocked in, Shangie hurriedly fastened a few more buttons on her collar.

“Okay, Miss Thing, you’ve been hanging out with Carmen too much. We’re going for sexy, not desperate.”

Manila still felt a slight tickle in her throat from the fumes of the hairspray she’d worked over her curls. They were thick and bouncy, and her plan seemed to be coming to fruition.

Not only would she be piquing Raja’s interest, but she’d be showing Raven just what she had walked out on. She looked good, and refused to go ignored.

“I got their drinks, but they haven’t ordered yet,” Shangie whispered. They were spying from behind the counter, and for a moment, Manila had her doubts.

Raja looked extremely happy. She was speaking animatedly, using her hands to help her tell the story, and Raven watched her intently, a real smile tugging on the edges of her lips. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about. It took a lot for Raven to open up, Manila knew that better than anyone. From the looks of it, they were getting to know each other well.

“Maybe this is a mistake,” she pouted. “I mean, what if she has a real connection with Raven?”

“So did you,” Carmen snapped, and Manila flinched at her words. “If you care about Raja, are you really going to stand by and let her get hurt like you did?”

Taking a deep breath, she strutted over to their table, swinging her hips. When Raja spotted her, she stopped mid-sentence.

“Hey, ladies. Have we decided?”

Manila was talking to Raja, of course, who looked up with those sparkly eyes.

“I finally managed to get through the brownies you baked for me,” she said, with a slight edge.

“Made with love.” Her heart skipped a beat.

 “We both want the special,” Raven interrupted. Manila coolly looked at her, though Raja’s gaze did not move. Raven’s eyes were narrowed, and Manila felt a rush of adrenaline rip through her chest. There was an electricity present, a challenge. She definitely knew what Manila was up to.

“Right,” she said, jotting it down on her pad. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Raven’s appetite was quickly diminishing as she saw Raja continue to sneak glances at Manila.

George emerged from the back and had to do a double take when he passed Manila.

“Luzon? Your uniform is looking a bit on the snug side,” he started. “If you’re getting bigger, you need to let me know so I can put in an order for some new ones.”

“What an awful thing to say, Georgie,” Carmen mewled. She was distracting him, and Manila was grateful. She couldn’t let him shake her focus. “I think she looks beautiful. I wish I had Manila’s figure…”

He relented, a goofy smile creeping up on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Manila could see Shangela gagging. No one was safe from the Carmen Carrera charm.

“Oh, come on, Carmen,” he said. “You have such a nice little body.” She flashed her teeth, twirling a caramel strand around her tanned finger. Manila cleared her throat, causing George to jump.

“Just a little laundry mishap, sir,” she said, smile strained. “Won’t happen again.”

Shangie grunted in disapproval once he’d gone. “He’s getting to you,” she said to Manila. “I’m too tiny to hold you back if you go berserk on him.”

“Whatever, he’s an asshole. That doesn’t matter now.”

“We have a development, ladies,” Carmen called, nodding over to the jukebox, where Raven was sliding several quarters into the slot. They could only see the back of her head, and Manila thought back to when that hair was long and dark. She didn’t even know her anymore.

The machine whirred as it filtered through the disks, before finally settling on the track she’d picked. As the opening chords played over the speakers, Manila saw her blow a kiss over to Raja. She was clutching her heart and smiling wide. As she walked back to her, Raven shot Manila a wink, and Shangie had to pinch her to keep her from cursing.

“That’s the song that was playing when they first met,” Juju said as she joined the others, wiping leftover crumbs from her lips.

“What? How do you know that?”

Carmen rolled her eyes and licked a napkin before scrubbing Juju’s cheek. “You could at least check yourself in the mirror before coming back from break,” she scolded. “And I told you guys, she’s a rat. Raven told her.”

Manila enveloped the tiny girl in a hug, much to the surprise of the others.

“J, this is perfect,” she grinned diabolically. “You have to tell us everything you know.”

“I’m not going to be your mole, Manila,” she protested, but with three sets of expectant eyes on her, she sighed uncomfortably.

 They’d met at the gym, in the evening Zumba class they both attended twice a week. Raven watched her long, gray ponytail bounce, and tried desperately to listen to the instructor. It was hard to follow directions, when a beautiful girl was squatting in front of her in sinfully tight yoga pants. She never noticed Raven, until one day she did. And every day after that.

She’d accidentally mopped Raven’s water bottle, chugging its’ contents before realizing it wasn’t hers. Under normal circumstances, she would have gone off on anyone who dared to touch her things, but the girl’s genuine nature left her speechless. She apologized profusely, grabbing Raven’s hand. Their fingers sparked an electric shock, and she nearly pulled away.

As the other girls all moved back into place, they stood there, staring at each other. Sweat was dripping down Raven’s back, and the upbeat song was in time with her heartbeat.

“My name is Raja,” she panted. “My water is in my bag, still. I can grab it.”

Raven simply shook her head, trying so hard to keep from smiling that it made her cheeks ache.

“Raven,” she said softly. “No need. We’re almost done, anyway. You can owe me something later.”

The next class, Raja stood next to Raven, who was stretching while she waited for the instructor to pick out a playlist.  They giggled as the got tripped up on steps, and Raja’s long limbs almost knocked her out several times. Somehow, they wound up parked next door each other, and stood talking by their cars for an hour afterwards, letting the breeze cool their heated skin.

A week later, Raven was sitting on the ground, trying to touch her toes. She always needed to stretch a bit after class was over, or she felt a bit worse the next day. Raja was kneeling beside her, tying her shoe, when she lost balance and toppled over on top of her.

Raja had one arm pinned over her side, still reeling. Their faces were just inches apart, and the tension was palpable. If Raven didn’t crack a joke now, she might lose her composure.

“If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to do was ask,” she smirked. Raja’s face was flushed, but whether it was from the workout or their position was unclear.

“Maybe I do,” she whispered huskily, dark eyes glancing down at Raven’s lips.

Overcome, Raven pulled herself out from under her and stood up, pulling down her tank top. She cleared her throat. The thought that Raja actually wanted her was surprising enough, but something stirred in her tiny, black heart when she realized that it didn’t matter that she was a bare-faced, sweaty mess. Raja’s eyes were true.

“Come on, get up,” she urged, voice on the verge of cracking. “At least take a girl out to dinner first.”

“And that’s how they ended up coming here,” Juju finished.

“What did she say about me working here?” Manila pondered.

“She didn’t even mention you.”

“What a bitch.”

Carmen clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. The song had ended since Jujubee had started the story, but Raven and Raja were still laughing loudly at their table.

“That’s like, a story to tell the grandkids,” Carmen pouted. “Okay, we have to move past playing it safe. If you really wanna get her attention, we need a plan of attack.”

Manila had to admit that Raven had gotten way farther than she had in just a few, short weeks.

She knew Raja, though. Knew things that you could only learn over the course of several months, with gained trust. They both had an artistic mentality, both knew how it was to grow up a Euro-Asian mix. What those family reunions were like, too much of this, not enough of that. They were both dreamers and doers. Creative creators.

They had shared laughter and tales of heartache, and Manila cursed herself for not being confident enough to just say something. There was something between them, she was positive.

A crash pulled Manila from her thoughts, and she saw the metal straw dispenser on the floor, plastic straws spread all over the tile.

“Jesus, Carmen, what the hell?”

“Wow, I’m such a klutz,” she responded, a little louder than necessary. “Manila, could you pick those up?”

 The spark in her eyes allowed Manila to realize that Raven and Raja were watching her. If the only thing separating her and Raven was physical attraction, she’d turn it up a notch.

She came out from behind the counter and kneeled in front of the mess, acting oblivious. Luckily, they were the only ones in Shangie’s section, the target audience for the show.

Raven’s back was burning as she watched, twisting her body to the sight happening behind her. Manila was on all fours, gathering the straws. Instead of crawling toward it, she reached for a rogue one, her skirt riding up just enough to give them a peek at her panties. She parted her knees, sticking her ass higher in the air as she extended her arm, and there wasn’t much left for Raven to imagine.

Except for the way it might feel to pull that skirt all the way up and grab hold of those dark curls. To have Manila as her own little servant, kneeling by her feet, waiting patiently for a command. Obeying when she was ordered to make Raja feel good while she sat back and watched the two girls sigh into each other’s mouths…

Raven shook her head, and turned around. She couldn’t think this way about Manila, not anymore.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only effected party, as Raja was chewing on her lip, subconsciously squirming in her seat as she watched Manila.

She rose, throwing the contaminated plastic in the garbage, and placing the dispenser up on the counter. She moved to check on them, and the tension was palpable.

“Anything I can help you ladies with?”

Suddenly, the spell was broken, and Raven realized this was all intentional. She looked to Juju who quickly pretended to be working on the nozzles on the soda fountains.

So, Manila wanted a war. She wasn’t the only one who could play dirty.

From underneath the table, Raven placed a hand on Raja’s bare knee, tantalizing the skin with her nails. Raja jumped slightly, clearly unnerved.

“I’m suddenly very hungry for something else,” Raven growled, causing her date to swallow hard. “Come over to my place for desert?”

“Luzon!”

Manila felt her eyes roll to the back of her skull, but forced a faux smile as she turned around.

“Yes, George?”

“I’ve gotten several complaints that my customers do not want to see your ass when they are trying to eat. What has gotten into you?”

Her nerves were on fire. His voice was a harsh whisper, and she could feel curious eyes on them.

“It was just a problem with the washer, really-“

“Save it, Luzon. I’m not paying you to walk around acting like a slut,” he hissed. Manila’s face fell.

Her mouth was dry, and tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Carmen spoke up, trying to control the scene. “I think she gets it, George. Look, Nila, I have a spare dress in my car. You can put it on when my boyfriend brings it by, okay?” Manila nodded, arms crossed over her chest. George sighed heavily.

“Alright, fine. But if I hear any more complaints, it’s not gonna be good news.”

Carmen hugged her, Manila sniveling into her shoulder. They were startled by the sound of the register jutting open, and looked up to see Shangela handing Raja two Styrofoam containers. Raven walked over to them, grabbing a mint from the glass jar.

“Psst, sorry to see the show shut down,” Raven whispered. She tore the plastic, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “But nice try, Luzon.”

“Fuck off,” she spat back, trying to hide her watery eyes.

“Leave her alone, Raven. Haven’t you done enough?”

Her eyes narrowed, still working the spiraled candy between her fingers. “I don’t believe anyone asked for your input, Carmen.” She leaned forward, and before Manila knew it, Raven was slipping the mint between her lips. It was cool on her tongue, and Raven’s finger lingered a bit too long. “It seems to be the trend around here to meddle in other people’s business. Right, Juju?”

“I’m not entertaining this,” Jujubee huffed. “You’re both idiots.” It was then that Raja came over with the to-go boxes in hand.

“Ready to take off?” Raven asked, affectionately kissing her cheek.

“You’d know all about taking,” Manila muttered. Her eyes were strong now.

They were staring again, and Raja looked to the other waitresses for answers. Juju smiled awkwardly, but Carmen stood defensively by Manila’s side, looking ready to pounce.

“Um,” Raja cleared her throat. “Am I missing something?”

They all responded at once, with a resounding “no”.

–

Tomorrow was Manila’s day off, and it couldn’t have come any sooner. She was the last one left to close, and her aching feet were begging her to hurry and lock up.

For some, it was eerie to be alone in the diner late at night, but Manila relished the opportunity to work at her own pace. No one to distract her or dictate her actions, just her and the sound of the music.

She gave the counters a once-over, making sure every surface had been disinfected and everything had been put away in the back for the openers. The clock said that it was almost eleven, and she didn’t have much of a reason left to stay. She closed her eyes, letting the song fill her ears, lifting her to some far-away place, where things made sense. Where she was happy.

She felt hopeless. Why had she allowed herself to parade around as some fool, acting pathetic? Manila was engaged in a game of cat and mouse that no one else was playing. Was it really to make Raja like her? This wasn’t who she was, feeling more self-conscious as the day went by, receiving lingering gawks from men that didn’t even know her. She wasn’t a display piece, and when she realized that Raja was not an object either, she felt sick to her stomach for trying to steal her away.

It was deeper than that, and repressed hurt crept into her heart every time she thought about Raja leaving, going home to kisses and soft hands.

The same touch that was once everything to her.

Manila was on the outside looking in, and she reached out into the nothingness. No one could hear her. She was withering away.

She wondered just how much more Raven could take from her before she would wilt completely.

Her phone buzzed from her apron pocket, and she unlocked it to see Shangela saying goodnight to their group chat. Their display picture stood out at the top of her screen, the four girls all laughing, drinks in hand. If Manila was lonely, at least she wasn’t alone.

A knock startled Manila, and she squinted. The door was locked, thankfully, but her heart started to slow when she saw a familiar face crouch down and wave.

–

Raja leaned up against the fridge in Manila’s kitchen, head pressed to the cool steel.

This was Manila’s zone, and she watched her move swiftly, completely focused. The hour was late, but her eyes held determination as her hands worked expertly. It was the same kind of groove that they shared, a process taking over their body, using them as a vessel for creation.

Several dirtied dishes lined the countertops, and Raja couldn’t help but feel amused that she was doing much more observing than anything else.

“Let me help,” she said, taking the big bowl from Manila’s arm, prying her fingers off the wooden spoon. She continued working it through the mixture, watching the younger girl blink slowly, batting away exhaustion.

Raja should probably feel bad for suggesting a midnight baking lesson, but she was content with standing in the lowly-lit apartment, the shorter girl’s feet pattering on the floor as she maneuvered through the room. She was in a large t-shirt and jogging pants, with a lopsided ponytail on the top of her head. She placed a hand over Raja’s, and they stirred together.

“I’m going to put them in the oven,” she said a few minutes later. “Then go to the bathroom. You can wait in my room. You remember which door?”

Raja nodded, reluctantly leaving Manila to her own devices. She knew that once she’d gone, Manila would smooth out any wrinkles she had left in her routine. Her perfectionist attitude was as sweet as the sugar she used in her confections.

A single lamp illuminated Manila’s gray bedroom walls and purple bedding. There was a painting of lilacs hanging over the headboard, and Raja made note of the loopy signature in the corner of the canvas.

Her closet was open, and she admired the clothes. Being so used to seeing her in a uniform, it was surprising to see Manila’s style on display in front of her. There was definite taste.

At the bottom, amongst several pairs of shoes, was a fabric box holding a variety of art supplies. Raja reached down, pulling out a black leather-bound journal. She flipped through, but there were no pictures, only words.

It was an old diary.

Raja peered out into the hallway, making sure Manila wasn’t coming. What she was about to do was wrong, but she couldn’t squash her curiosity. She cracked the journal open to an entry around the center, and the top of the page was dated from over four years prior.

Sept. 17 –

We’re in the swing of things! Homecoming is right around the corner, and Juju and I are leading the committee. I’m pretty sure Carmen is going to be crowned queen. She says she doesn’t think so, but she’s probably lying. Her dress is super pretty. It’s totally revealing, typical Carmen.

Raja sighed. She still felt guilty, but at least she hadn’t uncovered anything too deep. This was a standard account of high school life. She recognized the names of the other waitresses, and felt it was lovely that the girls were still friends. She flipped through a few more pages.

Oct. 12 –

Who do you turn to when you need to reveal the biggest secret of your life, but it turns out that it’s about your best friend? Carmen can’t keep a secret, and Juju is just too close to her. I guess that’s why I have this diary. I can’t feel my hands when she’s around, and all of a sudden I can’t joke like I used to. I even skipped English yesterday because I was too nervous to see her. I thought this would pass, but it feels like every time we’re together it gets stronger. It’s eating me alive. Should I tell her? What if I ruin everything?

Oct. 30 –

Carmen’s party is tonight! Of course, her parents are out of town, and some guys with fakes bought us a bunch of booze. I’m pretty pleased with my costume, but I’m more excited to spend the night with my girlfriend. Can you believe I just wrote that? Girlfriend! I think it’s gonna be a special night.

P.S. – I think my sister knows I’m seeing someone, but if I tell her, she’ll rat me out to Mom. I mean, what would they say if they knew it was Raven?

The toilet flushed, and she barely managed to shove the journal back in its box and stand up before Manila came walking in, a sleepy smile on her face.

“Hey,” she said. “We can go check on them in a few minutes. I’ll even let you stick the toothpicks in.”

Raja acted as calmly as she could, but her heart was racing. Manila was talking about some video she’d seen on Facebook, but she couldn’t focus on anything except what she’d just read.

Raven? And Manila?

Honestly, she’d had her suspicions, but to actually see it in writing was a shock. How could neither of them say anything?

“Raja?”

She blinked, and looked over to Manila, who was sitting on the bed with a concerned expression.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted to stay the night,” she said shyly. “I mean, it’s pretty late.”

She needed time to think, to figure out what to do. As if she wasn’t already confused enough, there was now a whole new layer to the situation. But she couldn’t exactly get mad at Manila without exposing herself.

“Sure.”

They ate cookies and sipped on wine, and before Raja knew it, she had completely forgotten about Manila’s diary. Somehow, she’d ended up nestled against Raja’s side, laughing about a story from work. It was comfortable, being under the covers together.

Manila was desperately fighting sleep, and she wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Raj?”

“Mmm.”

“Will you still be here when I wake up?”

Raja shifted to look down at the smaller girl. Her sad eyes looked heavy, and she was tracing circles into Raja’s sleeve. She took her hand and kissed it.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m not going anywhere.”

As her eyes flittered shut, Raja wondered just what the hell she had gotten herself into.

–

The sound of chewing through the speaker of Raven’s phone was irritating enough to give an aspirin a headache. Still, she pressed on.

“I could pretend to get food poisoning,” she mused, admiring her manicure. “Bonus points if it’s Luzon’s cooking. Then I could convince Raja to never go back.”

“Are you sure you’re that convincing of an actress?”

She frowned. From her bedroom window, she could see a pair of black butterflies dancing around the flowers in her garden, scaling the trellis, careful not to wake the dormant morning glories. Raven wondered if it was a sign. Probably not.

“Maybe I won’t have to act. Is there anything you can use to, like, spike our food?”

“Jesus, Rave! Listen to yourself,” Juju groaned over the line. “You two are acting like children. Have you considered just asking Raja which one of you she wants?”

Truthfully, she had contemplated it, but she was afraid of the answer. When Raja wasn’t answering her phone, Raven knew exactly where she was. They were in too deep.

“I didn’t start this,” she sneered, deflecting the question. Jujubee sighed. Never once had she asked her to choose sides when she split up with Manila, but now she was wishing she had someone unapologetically in her corner.

“Then finish it. Just say what you feel for once, Raven. You may have lost Manila, but you still have a chance with this one. I love you, but please, stop being a coward.”

The words hurt, like a blow to the gut, and she felt the air leave her lungs. As if it wasn’t hard enough to be reminded of her choices every time she saw her face, somehow hearing it was even more gruesome.

After a few beats of silence, Juju began to speak, but Raven quickly ended the call, holding a shaking hand over her mouth.

–

Manila was puttering around the diner like a songbird, whistling and humming, blinding everyone she saw with a smile. She danced on the tips of her toes, ponytail swaying as she wiped down tables.

“What’s got you in such a cheery mood?” Carmen asked, though she knew the answer. As she moved behind the counter, she swatted her thigh with the rag.

“Mind your own business, Carrera!” She giggled. The pink in her cheeks was a telling sign, she knew, but she was much too elated to care.

“Your business is my business,” she argued good-naturedly. “If we’re on the winning team, I have a right to know.”

“There is no winning or losing,” she sang. “I’m letting go of all of that. If Raja wants me, then she’ll choose me.”

“Something in your tone makes me believe you’re hiding some details.”

“Um, Nila?” Juju chirped, emerging from the back. “George just called and asked if you could check on the restroom.”

Manila scrunched her nose. “I just did it, not even a half hour ago.”

“I’m just the messenger, girl.”

Carmen shrugged. With a sigh, Manila grabbed a broom and dustpan, pushing herself into the women’s restroom. Eyes out for any mess on the tile, she spun around when she heard a click, the door locking. She pushed against it to no avail.

“Jujubee? Let me out, this isn’t funny.”

“Not until we talk this out,” a soft voice came from behind her, and she saw Raven and Raja leaning up against two of the Pepto Bismol colored stall doors. The taller of the two had her eyes darting in every direction, nerves apparent.

“What is this? Some kind of intervention?” Manila pressed. “Raja, you and your friend are kind of freaking me out.”

Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Give it up, Luzon. She knows.”

She deflated, dropping the broom to the floor. “You told her?” She whispered.

“She didn’t have to tell me,” Raja shrugged sheepishly. “I had a hunch. And I may have gone through your things?”

Manila didn’t have time to be mad. A million thoughts were circulating through her mind, and she felt dizzy. There was no backing out now; she’d have to confront Raven, and risk losing Raja.

“Look, I’m not exactly thrilled either,” Raven muttered. She took a step forward, and Manila backed up against the sink. “I know this is a lot to take in-“

“What do you know?” Manila spat, feeling her chest tighten. “You don’t know anything.”

“Manila, come on,” Raja begged. The pained expression on her face wasn’t unnoticed. Raven’s eyes narrowed, and she backed Manila into a corner.

“What do I know?” She whispered harshly. “I know exactly where you hide your snacks in your bedroom. I know where you have the scar that you got from bike riding when you were six. I know that you say that you hate yellow, but secretly love the way you look in it. I know that you’re a lactose intolerant idiot who would do anything for a chocolate shake.”

“God, you almost make it sound like you cared about me,” Manila was bitter, and hoped it reached the other two. Damn Raven, damn Raja, and damn Jujubee for making her endure this.

“You fucking moron,” Raven croaked. Manila’s eyes softened at the wavering in her voice. “I loved you.”

Raja cooed, the sound a dull echo in Manila’s ears. She shook her head, laughing in disbelief.

“No. No, you left me. You abandoned me, and it made me hate myself for tearing our friendship apart!”

“I was scared,” Raven sighed, eyes defeated. “I loved you so much, but you weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to come out, for sex, to be in a serious relationship, and I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to the way we were. Manila, I couldn’t just be your friend after being with you so intimately. It would have killed me. So…I distanced myself. It was just easier that way.”

“For who?!” Manila yelled, uncaring if the whole damn building heard. “Don’t you dare act like the martyr here.”

“You’re right, I guess. I’ve regretted it ever since. Having to walk past you, pretending I wasn’t reliving my biggest mistake was torture. What was I supposed to say?”

“The truth, maybe?” The waitress said incredulously.

“I just…maybe we can move past this,” Raven dared, though her voice still trembled. “I miss my best friend.”

“I can never forgive you for this,” Manila cried. Her cheeks were hot and she wanted nothing more than to smack her across the face. “I’ve dreamed about this moment forever, and now that it’s here, I wish it had never come.” She was sputtering and red faced, stomping her foot like a child.

With a shaky breath, Raven enveloped her, despite her thrashing. Raja looked on, a strange mixture of misery and relief twisting in her stomach, as Manila relaxed in Raven’s arms, sobbing loudly.

–

Manila was sipping on her coffee, mostly to give her an excuse to sit in silence.

Raja’s long coat was draped over her shoulders, and her eyes were still slightly puffy.

“So,” Raja urged, nudging the girl in the seat next to her. She sighed and cleared her throat, a pout on her full lips.

“So,” Raven mocked. “I was thinking. Maybe we could start over. No more secrets.”

“And no more snooping,” Raja pledged. “Or silly games.”

“Like…our friendship?” Manila pondered. She saw the glances that Raja and Raven shared, and the looked like they belonged. Two puzzle pieces, and she was the rogue obstacle, wedging herself between them. If this was the sort of feeling Raven had wanted to back away from, then maybe she could begin to understand. “I’m not sure I can pretend like you’re a stranger anymore, Rave.”

“No, I mean, like, our relationship. I don’t expect forgiveness in a day, but I’m willing to try if you are,” she replied, blonde waves rustling as she failed to make eye contact. “Can I take you out?”

Manila blinked. Something flipped inside of her, a switch, like the first warm day after a long winter. Even if she wanted to refuse, she wasn’t sure it was in her power to do so.

Suddenly, she looked to Raja, fiddling with the stray hairs that framed her face.

“But…what about…”

Raja laughed airily, grabbing Manila’s hand. “I’m here, as long as you’ll have me,” she squeezed. She looked to Raven, kissing her temple. “For both of you.”

“I’m not sure how I went from being totally alone, to having the two of you,” Manila mumbled. “How would that even work? What if things get messy?”

“Maybe,” Raven started, looking between them. “We should just let things run their own course for once.”

The door chimed, a group of schoolchildren running into Royale’s with hungry stomachs and money burning a hole through their pockets. Shangela greeted them, a gaggle of laughter as she tried to help them hoist themselves up on the barstools. The clock ticked up on the wall, in time with the beat of the music, a new track that Manila had yet to hear. The tin signs and gag license plates hung above Juju as she listened to orders, reaching for the pencil she kept nestled in her hair. A man took a crisp bill from a pretty hand, and Manila dared to look up just in time to see Carmen shoot her an approving wink.

“Maybe you’re right.”