#so we're leaving the stick figures lmao

[monsieuroverlord]

Manifesting Akihiro having a nice cameo in next week's X-Force (where Beast leaves him tf alone)

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Please save me from this light of mine (please stay with me in the dark)

Your small hands in the palm of mine - series masterlist here

pairing: gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru (gender neutral)

length: 1.6k

genre: lil angsty

warnings: this is the beginning of the spiral into insanity lmao but I promise we are doing the happy timeline here ok this is not going to follow canon, lil angsty here but y'all know I would never leave you with heartbreak forever <3

a/n: I think this is about uuuh cutting the ppl you love with your sharp edges :( so anyway

There's a heaviness in the air, the humidity weighing on you as the summer sun beats down. Laying in the grass, feeling your chest heave as you try to catch your breath and your clothes stick to your sweat-slicked skin, you feel almost - almost at your limit. Not quite, though. Not until -

A shadow passes over you, blocking out the scorching heat of the sun, and when you open your eyes, you're met with Suguru's concerned face, his hand stuffed in the pockets of his school uniform.

"Aw, you're blocking the light," you sigh, but there's a fatigue in your voice that just causes his brows to bunch further together. He moves anyway, though, choosing instead to sit next to you and stare down at your figure. Not that you'd notice, your eyes fluttering shut again to ward off the bright sunlight.

"Think you've had more than enough sunlight today," he answers easily, eyeing your figure. Your breath has started to calm, your chest rising and falling a bit slower. "And more than enough practicing. How long have you been out here?"

"Not that long," you respond, shrugging as best you can with your hands interlocked behind your head, cushioning you as the grass sways around you. The breeze is welcome- a cool, sweet reverie until you're interrupted again.

"Aw, now don't go lying to us," Satoru says, being the one to tower over you this time. You open your eyes again to squint up, glaring at him as he grins down at you for a moment before planting himself on the other side of you. "You left this morning. The sun's gonna go down soon."

"We're in school," you huff, stubbornly keeping your eyes closed. "We're training. Are we not here to get better? Are you two not?"

"Of course we are," Suguru sighs, and you open your eyes to look up at him. The sun is getting lower on the horizon, the day's light soon to fade along with it. "But we're not here to get ourselves killed. That's what you'll do if you keep going on like this." You scoff at Suguru's words, sitting up to look at him crossly.

"I know what I'm doing - and I know my limits. You don't need to know them for me."

"We're just worried about you, we - hey, we care about you," Satoru begins, but you're already hauling yourself to your feet, determined to end the conversation before it's even really begun. You sway a bit as you stand, and the two of them shoot to their feet on either side of you, hands outstretched. As if they'd need to catch you - as if you'd ever let yourself fall. 

"I thought you wanted to be the best, Satoru," you challenge him, your eyes narrowing. He opens his mouth to respond, a surprised pain flashing through his eyes as you keep going before he can speak. "At this rate, it won't take long for me to surpass you."

Neither of them stop you this time when you walk away.

Neither of them come to see you in your dorm later, either - something that causes your heart to stutter in your chest as you lean against your windowsill, staring up at the night sky and the pale, waning moon. You turn over, in your head, what the other two had been saying to you earlier, the hurt in Satoru's eyes and the way Suguru's hand had stayed outstretched, reaching towards you as you walked away You play it over and over in your mind, something worrying gnawing at you when you think of it. 

You scoff angrily, letting your head fall forward to rest against the glass of your window. There is a loneliness to this life, you think. And it is made even lonelier by the fact that they haven't seemed to realize that yet. Still, there's a part of you that tugs at your heart, pleads for your feet to move, to carry you down the hall to them. There is a part of your soul that begs for them and you cannot snuff it out.

You can, of course, ignore it. And you do - you always do, digging your heels in and refusing to seek shelter from a storm of your own making.

"Don't you think we should go talk to them," Satoru whines, pouting up at Suguru where he lays sprawled across his bed. He'd ignored Suguru's grumbling about how he has his own dorm room when he came in, making himself comfortable while Suguru had just sighed, shifting to give him more space. Now, he leans forward to pet a hand over Satoru's hair.

"They just need a bit of space tonight, probably. If we crowd them, it might make it worse - you know that," he says softly. Satoru rolls onto his front and buries his face in the blankets.

"I just want to make this better - to help them. They're not alone in this, you know? I don't want…" Suguru sighs and runs his hands up and down Satoru's spine over his shirt.

"I know… I know. I don't want them to feel alone, either. They don't have to do this alone. But… you and I knowing that isn't the same as them knowing, yea?"

"I know," Satoru grumbles, rolling over once more to look up at Suguru where he's sitting up. Satoru reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind Suguru's ear, smoothing over his cheek with his thumb on the way back. "I just wish it was easier to make them understand that."

"It'll come… with time," Suguru says sweetly, catching Satoru's hand with his own to press a kiss to his palm. "We just have to be patient for now."

Suguru thinks, as he watches Satoru, that he may have been wrong on that front. Satoru's talking to you about his techniques, about pushing them and expanding them and making them more powerful - the constant drive for more, more, more. You, for what it's worth, look a bit hesitant about the whole thing.

"Isn't that a bit much, Toru?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. He scoffs, waving your concern away.

"You were the one who kept saying it," Satoru points out. "You were the one who told me to catch up." You bristle at his words.

"I didn't mean it like this," you say stubbornly. Satoru pays it no mind, laughing and bumping you with his shoulder.

"You should be nicer, then," he points out. From where Suguru's sitting in the shade, away from the two of you, he can see the way you flinch at that, the way Satoru's words hurt you. But Satoru's already walking away, leaving you to stare after him, blinking in bemusement and something that looks suspiciously like regret. 

By the time he's gone, you're stomping over to Suguru to sit next to him, your arms crossed and a frown tugging at your lips. Suguru reaches over to smooth his thumb over your brow gently, a silent reminder for you to relax.

"Is that my fault, do you think?" You ask quietly. Suguru drops his hand to your knee, squeezing reassuringly. 

"It was bound to happen," he says kindly. You're not sure you deserve it. "Satoru's… well, he was always going to be the best, one day." You frown at Suguru's words, a furrow appearing again between your brows as you look up at the sky.

"I thought that was going to be me… before I met him." Suguru hums at your confession, unsurprised.

"Does it have to be one of you?" He asks, and if there's a fatigue seeping into his voice, if there's a slouch to his shoulders, you don't notice it.

"Doesn't it?" You press. Your hands ball into fists. "Satoru's scared of it - I know he is. He's got this fear in him and it's making him desperate." Suguru knows what you're talking about. He's seen the fear in Satoru - the fear that he isn't really the best, that he never will be, that he'll always still be beaten.

"And you?" Suguru presses, a sigh leaving him. It's heavy - this weight on his shoulders. He's not sure where it came from or when it got there, this creeping sort of ache that bears down on him. But it's here, nonetheless, and he's not sure he'd holding it up as well as he should be.

He's also not sure he really hears your answer to his question - something about how you've just got a better handle on it all compared to Satoru - how you're surely doing it all right and don't need the help that Satoru needs. Suguru doesn't mention that he's pretty sure Satoru feels the same - that you need help and he doesn't. You don't think to say that you're both thinking it about him, too - that Suguru is the one who needs an outstretched hand.

Either way, Suguru can't quite make himself believe you, not as the weariness of it all begins to collapse on him, the sun beating down just beyond this patch of shade he calls his own, the cicadas droning loud enough that he finds he can't hear himself think anymore. You're sitting right next to him, he supposes, but you feel out of reach, somehow. And Satoru? Well, he's nowhere in sight anymore.

Suguru wonders when he became so alone - thinks of it while you sigh and rest your forehead on his shoulder. He wonders when it all began to go so wrong.

[alyswritings]

pitch perfect

Request: could you write a jj maybank and sister reader where her depression and anxiety has like gotten worse recently?? Love your writings!!!

Summary: JJ helps his sister when she isn't doing well.

Warnings: depression, anxiety

a/n: back from the dead! idk for how long lmao

(gif not mine)

JJ gets back to the chateau after getting some stuff from his house. He throws the two bags onto the couch, getting a beer out of the fridge.

"Hey." John B walks out of his room.

"Hey." JJ nods, taking a sip of his beer.

"Hey, so, um..." John B purses his lips, getting a beer. "Uh... Y/N -- to my knowledge -- hasn't gotten out of bed all day."

"What?" JJ asks, frowning in concern.

"Yeah. Uh... tried to, but she just-- she wouldn't move. Barely even said anything." John B says.

"Uh..." JJ scratches his head. "All right. Thanks, man."

"Yeah." John B says, walking off.

JJ sighs, putting his beer down. He grabs a water bottle out of the fridge and a granola bar before going into the bedroom. His heart strings pull at his sister's curled up form underneath the covers. He gently knocks on the doorframe, but she doesn't turn back to him.

"Hey." JJ quietly calls. He shuts the door and walks over to the bed. "You get up at all today?" Y/N only groans. "You eat anything?" He asks. He glances at the nightstand, seeing the unopened package of peanut butter crackers that John B must've put in there earlier.

"You should eat something, Y/N." JJ says. Y/N doesn't respond. "Was there a trigger?" He asks. Y/N gives a small shrug.

JJ quietly sighs, wishing he could magically heal her. Wishing he could take all of this away, it killing him that he can't.

"C'mon, Y/N/N." JJ gently shakes her. "Say one word."

"Go away." Y/N mumbles.

"Okay. We're getting somewhere." JJ says. "I'm not going anywhere, though."

"Jayje--"

"You need me. I'm not leaving you alone, dude. Nice try, though." JJ says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Why don't we get you into the bathroom and you can take a shower."

"Don't wanna." She mumbles.

"It'll make you feel better." JJ says. "I swear, it will. Even just a little bit. Come on." He stands up.

"JJ." She sighs.

"Up and at 'em." JJ rips the blanket off.

"JJ." She whines.

"Shower time." JJ says, picking her up and carrying her to the bathroom. He puts her on her feet, Y/N leaning against the wall. "Be right back." JJ goes back to the bedroom.

He comes back with some clean pajamas and puts them on the counter.

"Shower. Take as long as you want." JJ turns the radio on, giving her some music to listen to while she showers. "When you get out, I can brush your hair and if you want, you can go back to laying down and I'll put a movie on or something."

"You suck." Y/N frowns.

"Love you, too." JJ kisses her temple. "Shower." He orders, leaving and shutting the door.

- - -

Y/N walks into the bedroom where JJ is, the boy having the TV set up and a pile of DVDs to choose from on the bed.

"Hey." He gets up when he notices her. "I got you some water and made you a sandwich. Plus, JB had some grapes. Figured it's better than nothing."

"Thanks." She mumbles, taking a sip of the water.

"Pick a movie." JJ encourages, nodding to the DVDs. Y/N sighs, looking through them.

"Pitch Perfect." She holds the DVD out to him.

"Yeah. Of course." JJ mumbles, taking the DVD. He puts the movie in before grabbing his sister's hair brush and sitting behind her on the bed.

"You really don't--"

"Shut up." JJ tells her, grabbing the plate. "Here. Eat a little, at least." He puts the plate in front of her.

Y/N sighs, sticking a grape in her mouth. She relaxes a bit as JJ starts to brush her hair, his fingers combing through it afterwards. He soon finishes and puts the brush up, moving to sit beside her.

"You feel better?" JJ asks. Y/N just shrugs.

JJ frowns, rubbing his neck as he thinks of how to help her. He knows he can't do too much since there's no cure all to her depression and anxiety. Plus, if he pushes too much, she can tend to push him away.

He knows he just needs to keep a closer eye on her and make sure she's eating and taking care of herself somewhat, at least. JJ kisses his sister on the head before moving his attention to the TV, watching the riff-off.

[charlewiss-writes]

make damn sure / charles leclerc

masterlist

day 19: wonder (part of one-word november prompts!)

word count: 1.5k.

pairing: bff!charles x reader

summary: being the hopeless romantic that you are, you've been dreaming about your special other your whole life. you're talking to your best friend pierre about the dream guy. what if you already knew him?

author's note: not proofread, so for sure many errors lmao. hope its still understandable (? also, im sorry for the delay! will try to have day 20 ready soon but its one prompt i really like so i dont want it to be short :( ill see what i can do! thanks for sticking with me through almost 20 days already!!

since being childhood friends, charles, pierre and you were inseparable. going to school together, joining them on their karting days, them joining you in your school plays. you were always there for eachother, without doubt. so when things started to get complicated at your house and you decided to move, they were 100% in. and that's how you ended now, two years after living with them, in the couch while talking to the frenchman.

"don't you wonder sometimes?" you had started the conversation, voice dry after hours without saying a word. it went like that sometimes, all too busy with their stuff: sometimes, even though you lived with two other people, thanks to their jobs, it seemed like you lived on your own. pierre straightened himself a little on his seat and turned his body towards you, so he could look into your eyes as he said "about?".

immediately regretting your decision to bring this topic to the table, you tried to back off. "well of course you don't, you already have a girlfriend" jokingly, you said. that only seemed to interest the boy in front of you more, being one that didnt like to leave things unresolved. "what are you talking about?". after knowing you for so long, they already knew you were a hopeless romantic at heart, but still, it made you nervous to talk about it out loud, being aware that it could seem ridiculous to others. "promise you won't laugh about it".

"when did I laugh to you?" he said, tilting his eyebrowns like you were telling him something unbeliavable. but you two, having the brother-sister relationship that you had, knew that he was blantantly lying as he always made fun of you, as you made fun of him too. seeing your glare, he laughed before saying. "fine, I won't, i promise". still, you took a bit of time before actually telling him what had been on your mind all day. "I don't know, I started to think about how everyone has met their significant other but I can't seem to find them".

"what if you did already? you know plenty of people".

you fully laughed at him, with no means to offend the frenchman. it truly seemed hilarious to you that he would believe that. "I think I would have realised if a certain person with all the qualities that I look for passed in front of me, pierre. I'm not dumb".

"you sure?"

and if look could kill, you would've been charged for murder. "you're being awfully mean to me today, pierre".

"it's cause you're so blind sometimes, like you purposely don't want to see". he looked pissed off now, and the change between his playful tone and this much colder one threw you off. "see what?" you asked.

"the way he looks at you".

it was a common discusion betweet you two, ever since you realized that you didn't love both boys the same. and although yeah, you cheered for their wins and stood through their hard times the same, the smile that adorned your face was different when you were greeted at the other side by the grin of a certain monegasque, who you also lived with. but for you, he was completely off limits. and you were okay with that, with being alone on the sidelines cheering for him, not expecting anything else from him. "oh shut up. you know we're just friends".

"if telling yourself that lets you sleep at night, go ahead. but you have to know that its okay to fall in love. if it goes wrong, i'm sure we can figure it out: you won't lose us. but what if it goes right and you're wasting your time? won't you like to know?".

"know what?".

the voice of a certain someone startled you. it wasn't like you didn't know he was in the house, but after a few hours asleep you had forgotten about him at all, otherwise you wouldn't be talking about this topic in the middle of the house. "know why she likes to talk about deep topics when we should be asleep" he quickly managed to answer, and even though it wasn't a lie, it felt wrong to lie to charles like that. "but why don't you two continue with the chat, eh?, i'm sure charles as more answers than i,he's smarter after all". the monegasque laughed at that and punched his arm in his way out, while he entered the room and started to get comfortable in the same couch that you were sat in.

"i love talking about deep topics, why don't you ever talk to me about it?" he sounded genuinely hurt, like the fact that you preferred to talk about certain stuff with pierre over him really bothered the ferrari driver. "thought you were asleep, charles". and it wasn't a lie.

"don't you trust me?"

"don't be silly, cha. I didn't want to bother you, that's all"

"you could never bother me".

after a few moments in silence, where he directed his eyes towards the ceiling instead of looking at you, he said, softly this time, like he truly didn't want to wake pierre up with his tone. "pierre's right. we need to talk. i want your opinion about something". at that, you clearly became more interested in whatever charles had to say. it had been a while since you two really talked, since he was always away, and when he wasn't, you were the one with the busy schedule. "it's really really really complicated, but i think i like a girl, and i don't know how to talk to her about it".

ah, that's it. that's your worse nightmare coming true, once again.

obviously, being the pretty boy that charles was, always so well manered and the perfect boyfriend that a mother could ask for his child, it wasn't the first time that he had a partner. but as the time went on, you knew he was getting more serious about the whole dating thing, and it scared you to think about him settling in for someone lese. someone that wasn't you. so, after all the years that passed, it still hurt quite a bit to hear him talk about other people in the same way you wished to be talked about.

after a few minutes where you didn't say anything, too stunned to actually answer him, you started to get self concious. obviously, he for sure saw how your face dropped when he told you that. would he realize that you had feelings for him all this time? would he feel betrayed? after all, he thought that you were only his friend, and thats why he was telling you this in the first place.

"you don't get it, do you?"

you furrowed your browns, now confused at what he was implying with that last sentence. "what do i have to get?".

he laughed about it and took your hands into his, to gently brush your fingers over your palm. "i'm talking about you, silly".

"what do you mean? why?".

his deep greenish blue eyes looked straight at yours, and it was impossible to pull away from his gaze. he softly started to answer your question. at least the one you had told him about, since your brain was already a mess with all the questions you had for him. since when? how didn't you see it before? did pierre knew about this? was that why he always talked to you about it?

"cause i've been in love with you for my whole life, more or less. i was just too scared to ruin things between us, but pierre talked me into it. said our friendship is bigger than anything that life could throw at us. and im confident we can work things out, you know? we have known eachother for so long. i know you like the palm of my hand. and you know me the same. please, don't tell me you didn't think about it, at least once, y/n".

you smiled, knowing about the endless times you had fallen asleep to the thought of you two together. wondering exactly this, if you could ever work out. how, each time, pierre and you talked about what you were looking for, you were, knowing or not, describing the boy that was in front of you, looking lovingly into your eyes. "i think about it all the time, cha".

"and why didn't you say anything before?" he reached for your face, gently caressing it with his right hand. "cause we're both dumb, i guess. but i think it's for the better, no? we've grown so much. we know how to make this work"..

"i'm gonna make damn sure, love".

[libraryofloveletters]

A Solid Foundation

Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Warnings: feeling homesick, gingerbread making, a little friendly competition, a loving girlfriend and a loved boyfriend, the houses aren't structurally sound lol, some soft moments

Word Count: 627

Author's Note: every time I see Chris, all my patriotism leaves my body (not like there was much anyways lmao)

--

You and Christian have a contest to see who can build the best gingerbread house. Safe to say, you both went a little overboard.

Christian was feeling a little bit homesick.

The football season was keeping him alone for longer than expected, and he will be missing out on all the pre-holiday activities that his family tends to do together. Amongst the many traditions that the Pulisic family had, the building of gingerbread houses was one of Christian's favourites.

You figured while your boyfriend was away at training, you pop to the store and see if you could pick up the things to have your own little gingerbread night at home. The selection of the store was rather lacklustre, you could tell just by the packaging alone that the gingerbread was going to be stale.

So, rather than buying stale gingerbread, you opted to make it; and for a first attempt, it didn't come out too badly.

Christian was a bit confused as to why the house smells like gingerbread when he got home. The further he walked into the house and the closer he got to the dining room, he could see you leant over the table trying to fix something.

"Babe?" He calls and you turn to face him, a cheesy Christmas apron tied around you.

You smile at your boyfriend, "you're home!" You walked over to give him a quick kiss, taking his bag from him and setting it off to the corner. "Go wash your hands, we're making gingerbread houses!"

Christian smiles, his heart warming at all the effort you put in just to put a smile on his face.

He quickly followed your instructions, off to the kitchen to wash his hands before joining you at the dining room table.

The table has all the pieces lined up along with frosting and candies you'd use to decorate. "I bet I can build the best house," Christian says as you slide a plastic knife over to him, letting him use that to put the frosting on his house.

You roll your eyes, carefully lining up your pieces, "as if. We both know I'd do it better than you."

If there was one thing about you and Christian, you were both extremely competitive and that showed in everything you two did; from the simplest of tasks to the most complicated, you two tried to outdo each other.

"Bet on it?" He asks, glancing across the table at you. There's a smug smile on your face, nodding. "Bet on it."

Off you went, you and Chris putting together your houses and the amount of frosting used to stick them together was outrageous. Not to mention the amounts used to put the candies on the house - Christian was going for an AC Milan themed house while you were going for a winter wonderland theme.

The gingerbread houses have yet to fully set together with the frosting, so they were still a bit wobbly when you loaded them up with more frosting and candy. The weight of the candy and frosting on top causes the gingerbread houses to collapse before you could even take a photo.

It's a bit of a domino effect, Christian's house cracks and then yours, and before you know it, they're both tumbling down into a pile of gingerbread, candy and frosting on the dining room table.

You and Christian exchange a glance before you burst out laughing. There wasn't much else you could do but laugh.

He picked out a piece that wasn't too covered in frosting before he took a bite of it, sinking back into his chair. "Thank you baby." He says and your brows furrow slightly, chin propped up on your hand.

"What for?"

"This,"he gestured to the pile of gingerbread on the table.

You smile, reaching over to hold his hand. "No need to thank me, that's what I'm here for."

[thatmexisaurusrex]

your bt fics inspire me so much 💕 i especially love the way you write tommy! i love reading fics from his perspective which are hard to find. sorry to send this anon but i’m shy lmao!

Oh gosh, don't be sorry! Anon is on for the shy folk out there, I'm glad it gives you the space to write in 🥰 I'm so happy you like my BuckTommy fics! Thank you so much for saying this 🥺 Tommy is a character I truly love writing. Some characters just hit you and he did. He's a man who wasn't good in the past. He was terrible partially because of the environment that he was in, partially because of the way he was raised, and most definitely because of his own poor choices.

But he chooses to be better. To be someone he can finally be proud of. To free himself of the restraints placed on him by his father figures, by society, and by himself. He becomes something that makes him happy. Becomes somebody who does better for the people around him. Who can have people's backs even if he hadn't in the past.

And I don't know if he's really there yet. I don't know if he's happy with himself. There's a loneliness to him that sticks so well, that tells me at least that he had never fully given in to being happy. Never knew how to or ever had the expectation that someone would want to make him happy or even the expectation that he could be happy.

But I like letting him live in my stories as he tries to figure that out. I like delving into why he gives those hints. I like helping him grapple with what has to be depression and heavy but necessary introspection on his part.

And while he shouldn't be the main highlight of next season, I do hope he gets moments to show the growth he has had. To show once again that he does have Hen, Chim, Eddie, Bobby, and Buck's back. I hope he finds that family in the people he wasn't sure he could have as family before.

I understand why someone may not like his character. There are reasons not to like him. He was a coward in the past. He did allow patriarchy and white supremacy to prop him up and allowed his fear of how he would be treated to overshadow doing the right thing back then. Even if 9-1-1 has shown that Hen and Chimney have forgiven him and trust him through hanging out with him after work at a bar, the 118 giving him a fun send off when he leaves, and Chimney on several occasions asking for Tommy's help and getting it, I understand that his past can put some people off. And there's a valid critique that more on-screen growth would be helpful in showing just how far Tommy is from the person he once was in the flashbacks.

But I have faith that 9-1-1 will show more of that. And it's clear from the narrative that that's what we're supposed to see in him - a person who's grown from the man who helped perpetuate a toxic work environment.

I feel like I might have veered away from the original ask here a bit, but I don't know. It's like - you take the good and the bad in a character. You take his past and his loneliness and his insecurities, but you also take his deadpan dry gallows humor and his patience and his understanding of how to be that better person he wished he always was.

And you let that blossom in your writing. And the character is all the better for it. I think so, at least. Thank you for loving my fics. Thank you for loving how I write Tommy. It means so much to me that my writing inspires you. You've truly made my day 🥰

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Same Trailer, Different Park

(Pilot Episode)

April 14, 2024

Notes - Last night, I went to my first-ever DND game with my oldest nephew, and it was incredible! It's supposed to be every other week, but we're doing it again this upcoming Saturday, and the storyline is giving me so many ideas that I could use for one-shots and stuff! Also, my sciatic pain is going away. It's moved from going all the way from my spine to my right knee to just my right hip, so that's an improvement! Anyway, this was just shy of 50 pages and would have been posted sooner if I had the moodboard and divider transferred to my computer, but I didn't, so here we are lmao! The divider I've used is just temporary until I can sit down and work on one I think suits the vibe, but until then, it is what it is. Also, I hope your finals go well! I believe in you!!

April 14th - the day RMS Titanic struck the iceberg.

Usually, on this day every year, I would be prepping for a Titanic watch party and making sure everyone was ready for it, but that’s just not how it’s going to go this time around. After I get out of school today, it’s officially spring break, and I couldn’t be more excited to finally get away from this endless rain despite the deviation from my annual Titanic anniversary get-together. Riven already offered to give me a ride to school this morning, but since Mom asked me to give Abby and Olly one, and Erica’s piece of shit truck can’t go over puddles without breaking down, he’s giving her and JJ a ride instead. I have to remember to pick up stuff for my battle bot before I leave school, so I’ll tell Abby to remind me - she’s good at that kind of thing. Maybe if I take my notebooks with me on my trip, Mickie and the guys can help me figure out some ideas for what I want to build. Then, I won’t have to come up with something when I get back! Yeah, maybe that’s what I’ll do!

Vivien snapped her journal shut and tugged her headphones off before turning them off and tossing them onto her desk alongside her journal. With a sigh, she found her gaze in the mirror that hung on the back of her closet door as she made her way toward it. Despite the hair sticking in every direction, the blanket marks lining the arm she had fallen asleep on, and the wrinkled pajamas she wasn’t quite ready to rid herself of, she looked ready to start her day. Although she highly doubted she would need a cup of coffee that morning as her excitement for the day was propelling her forward like a cup full of espresso shots, Vivien knew she needed to at least look like she was half as ready as she felt.

Her reflection smiled back as she pushed the door of her closet open, but as she pulled the clothes she had set aside the night before down from her hangers, she found herself wondering if she should have put more thought into the outfit she had chosen. Would her typical choice of jeans, a witty graphic tee, and a brightly colored long-sleeve be a good choice in the long run? She would stand out like a sore thumb in the sixties, but nobody at her school would, frankly, give a shit what she wore. Her dad’s signature triple knock on her bedroom door gave Vivien no chance to change her mind as she hollered back that she was almost ready to go. He left after letting her know that he had to leave for an early morning meeting, wishing her a good morning and telling her that he would see her at lunch before leaving to tell the twins the same.

Sighing as she stretched her tired limbs out, Vivien set her cell phone on her dresser, asking Siri to put on one of her playlists as she debated on what to do with her hair. Glancing at the clothes she had yet to pack for her vacation, Vivien cringed as she realized just how much work she’d forced on her after-school self. For once, she was tragically unprepared for a trip. There was a lot she would have to do in the small amount of time between her release from school and Mick’s family picking her up. Pulling her shirt over her head with a huff and freeing her hair from under the collar, Vivien found her phone screen illuminated as a text came in from the girl who had invited her on her family’s trip in the first place.

Mick’s text was simple - a picture of four plane tickets to the John Wayne Airport in Santa Ana, California. Then, as Vivien smiled at her phone, another message came in, asking her if she was ready. A flutter of eager anticipation flew through Vivien’s text as she replied, telling the older brunette how excited she was to finally be able to spend time with the people they both cared about. Once the message had been sent, Vivien found an ABBA song on her playlist, turned the volume back up, and sang softly to herself as she finished getting ready for the day.

After brushing her teeth and taking the time to detangle the hair she had forgotten to ask someone to braid the night before, Vivien gathered her things for school, shoving her overstuffed folder full of homework and project notes into her backpack before grabbing her permission slip for the regional battle bot tournament and shoving it into the back of her bag where it would be kept relatively safe until the end of the school day. Tucking her school laptop into her bag, zipping it shut, and throwing a strap over her shoulder, Vivien scurried out of her room, just barely remembering to turn off the light as Oliver mumbled out a good morning on his way to the stairs. Chuckling as she wished her brother a good morning, Vivien stepped back to allow Abby to parade by with her backpack on one shoulder, a book in her free hand, and her hair pulled back in a migraine-inducing high pony that Vivien was sure she would hear the girl complaining about later in the day.

Following her siblings downstairs as Abby muttered her oral report to herself, Vivien took in a slow breath and hoped her mother had already left for her meeting with some city council board as the smell of slightly charred bacon wafted through the air. Their mother had a habit of making perfect bacon and sausage for herself and everyone else but would sometimes forget Vivien’s and her ex-husband’s in the pan while she took the time to ensure her twins had everything exactly how they liked it. Vivien never bothered to bring up the issue; instead, she gave the charred bacon strips or sausage patties to Riven as he was practically a walking garbage disposal and seemed to enjoy the blackened breakfast meats. Her siblings had tried to bring it up before, and Vivien knew her father had tried as well, but to no avail. The woman wouldn’t argue much with her younger children and always denied anything being wrong, pointing out the fact that Vivien never brought it up herself, but even when Oliver argued that the disgust on Vivien’s face was obvious, nothing changed.

Entering the kitchen, Vivien smirked as Oliver turned back toward Abby and began spouting random historical facts to throw his twin off her train of thought. Abby was quick to fight back, whacking her brother with her book as she told him to shut up and let her focus. Their mother was quick to jump in and tell her only son to leave his sister alone before handing them both their lunch boxes and telling them to get going before they were late. Abby sent Vivien an apologetic look as the eldest of the O’Brian kids took the only remaining lunch box from the counter, and their mother ushered them toward the coat closet. After giving the twins a quick kiss on the forehead and telling Vivien to drive safely, the woman grabbed her jacket and left, heading out to her car and taking off while the kids were still pulling on their spring coats. 

With a sigh, Vivien grabbed her keys from the hook by the door and held the door open for her siblings, but it wasn’t until they were in the pale blue Hyundai Vivien had received from their father after passing her license test that any of them chose to speak up. Oliver huffed as he slid into the back seat, buckling his seatbelt before stretching out across the bench seat and sighing, “I don’t get Mom’s issue.”

“Olly,” Vivien sighed, a soft reprimand that she hoped would keep her brother from ranting the whole way to their school.

“No, Viv,” Abby cut in before Oliver could speak, “we all see she treats you differently, and it isn’t right!”

“It isn’t,” Vivien agreed as she pushed the key into the ignition and started the car, turning the defroster on to keep the windows clear, “but it isn’t worth the effort of trying to change her. Besides, I’ve got you guys and Dad.”

“And Auntie Hayley and Aunt Charlie,” Oliver piped in.

“Exactly,” Vivien nodded, smiling at her younger brother as she backed out of the driveway.

Abby huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and slouching in her seat as she complained, “Still. I wish we knew what her problem was.”

“I have a few theories,” Oliver claimed.

Abby grinned, “We know. You’ve shown us your corkboard of conspiracy theories.”

“Yeah,” Vivien snorted, putting the car into drive and taking off down their street. “I swear, introducing you to MatPat and Shane Dawson at a young age was a bad idea.”

“Seriously,” Abby agreed teasingly. “If I have to be subjected to another three-hour rant about the government brainwashing us through Justin Beiber’s music, I just might pitch myself off of the water tower.”

“First of all, that’s not what my theory was about,” Oliver chuckled, “and second, I meant about Mom treating Viv differently.”

Shifting so that she could see both Oliver and Vivien, Abby said, “Well, you’re the conspiracy theorist here. What do you think is the issue?”

Excited to finally have the chance to blather about the ideas he had been bouncing around in his head for a while, Oliver beamed as he began his spiel, “My first thought was that she’s jealous that Vivien has a better relationship with Auntie Hayley and is upset that she’s not Viv’s birth mom, but that wasn’t an issue when we were little, so why would it be now?”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Abby nodded thoughtfully, sparing a glance at Vivien, who nodded as she slowed to a stop at an intersection. Turning back to her twin, Abby pressed, “So, what else you got?”

Oliver sighed, “Sadly, I think the most likely reason is that she’s just pissy because she thinks Viv forced me into the ‘Alphabet Soup Community’ and is scared she’ll do the same to you, Abs.”

Abby’s expression shifted, a disgusted wince tugging her eyebrows together in frustration as she took in her brother’s theory. It made sense, but she didn’t want to admit it. Though Vivien had come out as bisexual years ago, their mother never truly seemed to accept it until Vivien began dating Royce a few months ago. When Oliver came out as gay, the woman had taken the news out on her eldest child, pulling her aside and blaming her for “poisoning her baby brother” with her “disgusting beliefs.” Abby had unintentionally overheard the conversation, listening proudly to her older sister as the brunette fought for her brother to be treated better than she had been. When Abby later told Oliver what she’d heard, the pair found themselves in Vivien’s room, showering their sister with kind words of gratitude and love that the older girl seemed to relish in.

Ready to rant about their mother’s blatant homophobia, Abby scoffed; however, it was Vivien who spoke before her sister could rage for the rest of the drive, “Sadly, that could be right.” Vivien placed a hand on top of the one Abby had placed on the center console, gently squeezing her hand as she continued, “Even though I hope that’s not the case, it could very well be. She’s always been a little… uptight about that sort of thing.”

“A little?” Oliver chortled, finding Vivien’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

Abby laughed, “You couldn’t pull a needle out of her ass with a tractor!”

“Abby!” Vivien reprimanded despite her laughing at the girl’s choice of words.

“It’s the truth!” Abby argued. “I’m sure she would’ve sent you guys to conversion therapy or something if Dad hadn’t said something.”

Vivien sighed as she turned onto School Street, “Still. She’s our mom, and until we move out, we have no choice but to put up with her bullshit.”

Oliver shifted in his seat, ready to crack a joke in order to lighten the situation, but Abby huffed, “I just don’t get why your sexualities matter so much to her. It’s not like it has anything to do with her in the first place.”

“Maybe she-”

“And why should she care if I’m straight or not?” Abby continued, cutting off Vivien’s statement with a scoff. “Is she just going to drop all of us if I someday decide to come out of the closet?”

Once he was sure his twin was done ranting, Oliver shrugged, “Maybe. Like Auntie Hayley said, Mom can’t stand that we aren’t her little dolls who do whatever she says now. I wouldn’t put it past her if she chooses to up and leave if this becomes a three-for-three situation.”

Taking in the wounded expression on her baby sister’s face as she pulled into an empty parking spot, Vivien smiled reassuringly and said, “I doubt you have much of anything to worry about anyway. Even if you came out as bi like I did, you and Malachi have been dating for, what, almost a year now?” When Abby nodded wordlessly, Vivien continued, “Well, Mom only chilled out when she found out I was dating Royce. Since you’re dating a boy already, I doubt there would be a problem.”

“Besides,” Oliver began as he pushed open his door and picked up his bag from the floor, “you’re straight - you have nothing to worry about.”

Plastering a smile on her face as she tugged her bag up from the floor, Abby nodded, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Patting Abby’s hand with a grin, Vivien opened her door and stepped outside, grabbing her backpack from the backseat and locking the car once the doors were closed. Once her keys were safely tucked into the front pocket of her backpack, Vivien followed her siblings to the front door of the school. Before she could step inside, however, a honk from a nearby car made  Vivien jump, whirling around to see Riven’s red Miata pulling to a stop by the sidewalk. Telling her siblings she would see them later, Vivien headed over to the car as the passenger’s side door opened, and a head of emerald hair stepped out before pushing the seat forward.

“Hey, Viv,” Jade greeted with a smile as she tightened her ponytail.

As Erica tumbled out of the backseat, the seatbelt wrapped around the ankle of her Doc Martens, she peered up at the brunette and beamed, “Oh, good! I was hoping to catch you before first period.” 

“Mission accomplished,” Vivien chuckled as Erica hobbled her way away from the car. As the car door closed and the window rolled down, she leaned over and teased, “That’s the only car full of ladies you’ll ever have, isn’t it?”

Riven sent his best friend a grin and gestured to his fellow bandmates as he spoke, “Blues Clues over there can hardly be considered a lady, and considering JJ is the only cheerleader who has ever given me the time of day, probably.”

Chuckling, Vivien rolled her eyes and said, “You’re an idiot.”

“Love you too.”

Before Vivien could return the sentiment, Erica placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Alright, dipshits, let’s go before the bell rings and we get told off.”

Jade chuckled as she tossed her Chapstick into her bag, “By who; Viv’s dad?”

Vivien snorted at the thought of her dad reprimanding them, but Erica beat her to the punch as she turned toward her girlfriend and said, “I was thinking Coach Boogeyman.”

Leaning over the passenger seat, Riven wondered, “I thought Bogman was forced to leave after the color guard claimed she was spying on them in the showers.”

“She was supposed to,” Jade huffed, “but until they find enough evidence to take her to court, she has to finish out the year.”

“Sadly,” a voice sighed from behind the group. Turning toward the voice, Vivien smiled as her father spoke, “Until we have her on camera, there’s nothing we can do. Besides, she’s been pushing off retirement for years. With this accusation, we should be able to finalize everything at the end of the year.”

“Good,” Erica snipped as Vivien stepped around her. “She’s always given me the creeps.”

“Understandably so,” Damien chuckled softly, smiling as his daughter slotted herself under his arm. “Hey, babygirl.”

“Hey, Dad,” Vivien beamed. “Did you come to walk us to class?”

Damien shook his head, squeezing his daughter’s shoulder as he replied, “Not quite. I saw you four chatting and figured I would try to get you inside before anyone else came out and started yelling.” Leaning forward enough to see Riven, he asked, “Are you joining us, Riven, or are you just going to do virtual lessons today?”

“No, I’ll be in,” Riven quickly replied, glancing toward the parking lot with his signature grin. “Just have to find a place to park.”

“Make it quick, bud,” the man stated as he glanced at his smartwatch. “The bell rings in ten minutes.”

Riven nodded, checking to make sure his path was clear before pulling away from the curb, his Miata drifting toward the parking lot as Damien began leading his daughter and her friends inside. After handing her lunchbox off to her dad so he could put it into the staff fridge until lunch, Vivien waited until Riven came running up to the front door before stepping inside behind him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her toward the stairwell across from the main office, waving goodbye to their friends and her father as they propelled up the stairs. Riven dragged her up to the next floor, where their lockers resided, before letting her go as he began twisting in his locker combination. Meanwhile, Vivien pulled her keys from her backpack, slipped a purple-painted one into her lock, and freed it, popping open the metal door with a sigh and placing her bag on the hook inside.

“You know,” Riven began, “it’s days like today that I wish my birthday wasn’t after the school cutoff.”

“Rough morning?” Vivien asked with a grin.

Riven scoffed as he tugged his social studies workbook down from the shelf he had shoved it onto the day before, “I slept through my alarm, and Dad was already at work, so he couldn’t help. Then, I woke up to Erica screeching about needing a ride, only to have my phone die mid-call. And, to top it all off, I’m about eighty-three percent sure these sweatpants are yours from the weekend.”

Vivien’s eyebrow lifted, but as she glanced down at the navy blue sweatpants Riven donned,  her eyes widened. Sure enough, the stars and planets she had embroidered around the pockets and hemline of her sweatpants now stood as a glaring reminder of the clothes she had tossed into the wash at Riven’s house. They had been cooking stuffed shells, and she had dropped the jar of sauce, splattering chunky, red tomato sauce all over the floor and their legs. After putting the food in the oven, they got a majority of the stains out in the sink but threw their clothes into the laundry afterward to get rid of the smell. She had forgotten the pants in her rush to get out the door on Monday morning, having told Riven she would take them back when she went back to his house after spring break was over. Holding back her bark of laughter, Vivien grinned at the thought of Riven rushing around his room that morning, throwing on whatever he could find before leaving the house and somehow missing the colorful threads lining his legs.

“Yeah,” Riven breathed, rolling his eyes at Vivien’s not-so-discrete snort of laughter. “Erica thought it was hilarious.”

“It kind of is,” Vivien giggled softly. At Riven’s dismayed sigh, her grin faltered, and she glanced down at her pants as she offered, “Do you want to trade? I’m pretty sure I stole these from you over the summer.”

Riven spared a glance at the jeans Vivien had worn and grinned; the cuffs were rolled up toward her ankles to prevent them from being stepped on, and she had to wear a belt just to keep the waistband in place, something Riven had no issue with in the slightest. With a snort, he shook his head, “I think I’m good, Pip. You made these and, despite them being on the shorter side, I’m only here until lunch. I can run home and change before work after I’m done eating. Besides, they wouldn’t match your outfit.”

Vivien’s eyebrow lifted into her bangs as she asked, “Since when do you care if clothes match?”

“I don’t,” Riven shrugged as he closed his locker, “but I know you do. Now, come on, it’s almost time for the bell.”

Scrambling to grab her books for the next two classes so she wouldn’t have to run to her locker between bells, Vivien slammed her locker shut and walked alongside Riven until he reached his class. They wouldn’t see each other again until she was allowed to head to the cafeteria for lunch, but their mornings in the halls were something she had cherished for a while. Joining a few of her classmates on their way to their first period of the day, Vivien caught a glimpse of the oversized clock on the wall and sighed. She had four periods until lunch, and only two were on the same floor, but she had planned to use her study hall block to join her friend Emily in the drama wing of the main floor. 

Emily - or Emmy, as she was often called by her relatively small friend group - had been begging her for the last two weeks to join her for the auditions in some musical the school was putting on. Originally, Vivien had no desire to audition as she hated the thought of having so many eyes on her, but when Emily pointed out that the auditorium was in close proximity to the cafeteria, she relented. If it meant she didn’t have to run from her study hall on the top floor all the way down to the main floor to eat, she was in.

Her first block was spent listening to Mrs. Adams - the only social studies teacher who actually seemed to enjoy teaching - ask everyone what their plans were for spring break. She loved to make the class hard as most of her students were either on the honor roll or enrolled in advanced placement classes, but Fridays were the one day a week when everyone got some reprieve from her constant stream of tests, exams, and droning lessons. By the time the bell rang, everyone had broken off into groups, writing out their plans for the week as their teacher sat at her desk with a smile, grading the last few papers on her computer. Vivien had made up a story on the fly, writing out her plans for the trip to California she told everyone she was going on, but as the bell rang, she closed her notebook and shoved it into her desk before grabbing her book for the next class and following her friend, Carter, down the hall toward the French class she had signed up for at the start of the semester.

Although she struggled a lot with the language - finding her old Spanish and German classes easier than French - the teacher commended her many times for at least trying. She wanted nothing more than to learn the language her boyfriend’s family knew, intending to surprise them on her trip. However, she knew her attempts were fairly futile. French just wasn’t her strong suit. Grateful her grade for the class wasn’t going to affect her final grades for the year, Vivien slumped into her chair in the middle of the room and hoped the class would go by faster than it usually did so that she could escape to the auditorium.

Thankfully, it seemed as though the teachers were of the same mindset as the students - eager to escape the concrete and stucco walls and leave for vacation. After answering a one-sided paper of questions in French about how their week had been, the teacher let them wander the halls, allowing Vivien to dump her books in her locker before making her way down to the auditorium. The auditorium was hardly ever used unless they had a guest speaker or a show being rehearsed, but the doors were almost always left unlocked, making it easy for Vivien to slip inside and make her way to the front row of chairs.

The auditorium would be empty for a while before the audition time came, but as Vivien had all the time in the world until her friend showed up, she didn’t mind the silence. Opening the notes app on her phone, she began typing out all of the things she would need to pack when she got home. Her list was already relatively short as she had put her essentials into her suitcase after using them that morning before school - her toiletries taking up the small pouch in the front of her luggage to leave room for the clothes she was still up in the air about. Although she knew that clothes weren’t really necessary as Mick had told her many times that she would be able to borrow period-typical clothes from them upon her arrival, she still needed to shove some summery clothing into her suitcase to make it seem as though her time had truly been spent in the California sun. 

With a sigh, Vivien realized she also needed to leave room for the souvenirs she would be bringing back and any potential shopping she did in either world. By the time she had whittled down her list to just necessities, her journal, and some extra changes of, well, every article of clothing she owned, people had begun to fill the auditorium, ascending the stage and beginning vocal warm-ups that would have impressed Sharpay Evans. Vivien tucked her earbuds in as the noise in the room began to grow, only pulling them out when Emily appeared in the seat next to her, excitedly tugging Vivien out of her shell and onto the stage with her as she rambled about the show they were going to be performing for the end of the school year.

Checking her blood pressure on her watch, Vivien sighed as the drama teachers, Mrs. Kaisla and Mr. Doyle, began telling everyone where to stand before giving them the run-down of the show. “As you all know by the posters in the halls,” Mr. Doyle began, “this year’s final show will be Hairspray.”

“I really want to play Tracy or Penny,” Emily squealed in a whisper mere inches from Vivien’s ear. Grabbing Vivien’s shirt in a fist, she added, “Imagine if Colby gets picked for Link or Seaweed - it would be perfect!”

Chuckling at the girl’s obvious crush on the dark-skinned football player who had been in their friend circles since kindergarten, Vivien whispered back, “I admire your enthusiasm, but is he the only reason you’re auditioning? I mean, you hate being the center of attention as much as I do being on stage; why would you wish for the lead?”

Emily’s sparkling smile faltered as Vivien’s words sunk in but quickly reappeared as the teachers wrapped up their short spiel about the show, “That’s why you’re here.”

“To make sure you don’t look like the worst performer here?” Vivien questioned teasingly.

Emily scoffed, elbowing Vivien in the arm, “Shut up. You’re not that bad.”

“Says you,” Vivien replied as Mrs. Kaisla began ushering some students toward center stage. As soon as she was sure neither she nor Emily were part of the group selected, she added, “There’s a reason I only ever sing in the car or the shower.”

With a sigh, Emily nudged her friend closer to the front of the stage and said, “And there’s a reason I asked you to come with me instead of literally anybody else. You have a beautiful voice. Besides, I need someone here who makes it easier to be in the spotlight. Now, shush!”

Vivien rolled her eyes but smiled as Emily hushed her, urging her to watch the others as they were instructed on what to do. Minutes flew by as the group took turns singing popular songs played over a bluetooth speaker one of the boys had brought to the school. Before she knew it, Vivien felt her stomach clench anxiously as her name was called, and Emily practically dragged her to the center of the stage. Taking a deep breath as the others took turns singing, Vivien tried to think of a song - any song - she could sing at least fairly well, but any titles she knew seemed to flee her brain as her mouth dried up as she resorted to biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from fidgeting under the blazing lights.

As Emily’s choice - an 80s hit that had made an appearance in the last season of Stranger Things - began to play, Vivien realized just how doomed she was, and her mind flickered to the cell phone in her back pocket. Surely, her Spotify would have something she could work with, right? However, to her chagrin, as soon as the device was free of its jean prison, Vivien found the music had stopped playing, and she was forced to choose a song without any assistance. Had she really taken that long to decide? Clearing her throat, Vivien smiled tersely as she gave up the only song that had found its way to the front of her brain in time - ABBA’s Lay All Your Love On Me. 

The teachers she hardly knew seemed to smile as they talked amongst themselves, and although a part of her was sure they were talking about how easy the song was to mess up, Emily’s encouraging smile from the side of the stage somewhat assured her that all was fine. Closing her eyes as the music began playing, Vivien attempted to force her fears down as she sucked in a deep breath. All she had to do was get through a section of the song, and she would be free to leave as everyone else was. Pretending she was just singing in the car with Riven, Vivien allowed her voice to carry over the music, her enjoyment of the song obvious as she began to sway to the beat, the lyrics flowing out of her like water.

Once the chorus had left her, the music began to fade, allowing the teachers to be heard as they scribbled something on their clipboards. Looking up at her, Mrs. Kaisla smiled and said, “Thank you, Vivien. You’re free to go.”

“Remember to check the cast list when we come back to school,” Mr. Doyle added before gesturing toward the side of the stage, where Emily received her with a hug and a squeal.

The two made their exit relatively quickly, Vivien practically pushing Emily through the double doors so that she could find a source of oxygen in the halls. Once the auditorium doors had closed with a click, Vivien sighed, checking her blood pressure as a wave of anxiety-fueled dizziness washed over her. After making up a quick excuse as to where she was going, Vivien told Emily she would see her after lunch before making her way to her locker, where she kept her water bottle. Sitting on the floor by her locker, Vivien sipped at her water until the bell rang, forcing herself to calm down as she scrolled through Pinterest.

Before long, Jade and Riven appeared, having left the same class Vivien would have to attend after lunch - World History. They hauled her off of the floor, and Riven tossed his books into his locker before draping an arm around Vivien's shoulders and guiding her toward the stairs while Jade rattled off about the teacher - Mr. Smith - being the most boring teacher in the school. After retrieving Vivien's lunch from her father, she joined her friends at their usual table by the windows on the far wall of the cafeteria, spending their lunch block playing a segment of their Dungeons and Dragons campaign on their phones while eating. 

After a while of playing and eating, the bell rang, and they cleaned up their table before tossing Vivien's now empty lunch box into Erica's locker near the gym before saying goodbye to Riven and splitting off to their respective classes. For Vivien, the rest of her classes went by without a hitch, time flying by the way she had hoped all morning that it would. Once her final class of the day ended, Vivien sent a quick text to the group chat she and her siblings had created, telling them that she had to drop off her form for the battle bot tournament and would meet them at the car. Making her way from the top floor to her locker, Vivien gathered her belongings, shoving her water bottle and a small bag of Cheetos her Trigonometry teacher had given her into her backpack before slinging her backpack onto her shoulders.

Once she was back on the main floor, Vivien scurried across the hall, rounded the entrance to the office, and took the stairwell across from the vending machines down to the school's basement. As she descended the stairs, dampness and mildew filled her nostrils, making her nose wrinkle in disgust as she pushed the door to the bottom floor open. Hardly anyone visited the basement unless they had to, as there was little to see, but there were a select few who found comfort in the almost eerie silence and smell the basement offered. While the basement wasn't overly dark or dreary, it never quite felt warm enough to give off the same welcoming feeling the upper parts of the school gave. 

Perhaps it was the piercing white light of the fluorescents or the steady beeping from the computer lab that sounded almost exactly like a hospital heart monitor that kept people away, but regardless, there were only a handful of students who enjoyed the ominous, cold, almost abandoned feeling the basement radiated. Vivien was one of those odd students. After years of exploring abandoned buildings with Riven for his photography blog and her Instagram, the smell and cold environment of the school's basement did little to drive her away. If anything, it was almost calming.

There weren't many reasons for most students to visit the basement, as there were only three labs and two committees that met there. The chemistry, robotics, and computer laboratories were in a triangle-like formation at the very end of the hall, while the photography and student politics groups met at the other end of the hall, their rooms across from each other and sharing a single wall that was thin enough to hear conversations happening in the other room. Vivien hummed to herself as she stepped around an old projector that had been wheeled into the hallway, grinning fondly at the memory of having to haul the old machine up the stairs to the top floor for one of the summer school teachers while helping her dad out in the office. Stepping into the Bermuda Triangle of classrooms at the end of the hall, Vivien scanned the names beside the doors before making her way toward the left-most room.

The door to the robotics lab had been kept open with a hunk of metal the teacher, Mr. Kevin Hill, had welded in his free time one summer. Mr. Hill was one of Vivien's favorite teachers of all time. Mr. Hill was a short Irishman with a fondness for taking things apart and rebuilding them, something Vivien could appreciate. There were a few other students in the room - Vivien's bandmate, Erica; Damon Perry, a vitiligo-skinned freshman who hardly spoke around upperclassmen unless he was spoken to first; and Preston Osborne, a senior who thought his shit didn't stink because he had more money than he knew what to do with. 

Unlike the rest of the handful of rich kids at their school, Vivien had known Preston by extension for years. He had been something of a nightmare for the school system, using his daddy's reputation as a hotshot lawyer in the city to be a dick to anyone who dared push back against whatever he wanted. According to Erica and Jade, Preston wasn't horrible until middle school, when the older kids began picking on him. One threat of a lawsuit later, Preston officially became known as someone nobody wanted to trifle with. Over the years, Vivien had heard her father complain about the boy and had heard horror stories from teachers who'd had him, but Vivien hadn't known him personally until she became the youngest person from their school ever to win the regional battle bot championship. 

In her first year fighting back in seventh grade, she had beaten Preston by a long shot, her little, ladybug-shaped robot tearing Preston's robot apart with its electrified saws. Preston, of course, seemed incapable of taking the news well, having argued with the competition's judges until he was forced to either accept defeat or be disqualified. Ever since that day, Vivien found herself with an upperclassman who thought of her as nothing more than his arch-nemesis. Though she found him obnoxious after a while, Vivien hardly played into his made-up game of tug-of-war unless provoked, something that seemed to piss Preston off more instead of making him see how ridiculous he was being.

Rolling her eyes at the imbecile's glare, Vivien signed her name on the clipboard on the teacher's desk, taking a glance at the competition as she allowed her backpack to slide down from her shoulders. The robotics teacher was supposed to supervise from his desk as Erica, Preston, and Damon scoured the materials the teacher had laid out for them to take, but Damon had somehow managed to ask a question that kept the old Irishman talking while Erica and Preston searched the scrap bins the teacher had left out for them to rifle through. The bins would be there until the day of the competition, giving Vivien plenty of time to come up with a model and a mock-up before she started digging through the bins of scrap metal that, hopefully, wouldn't be sending anyone to the hospital for a tetanus shot that year.

As Mr. Hill stepped away from his conversation with Damon, he found Vivien standing by his desk as she dug through her backpack for the paper she swore she had left in the front of the biggest pouch. "Ah," the teacher began, "Miss O'Brian. I was wondering when you would show." 

Vivien peered over at the teacher and smiled before resuming her search, "Well, better late than never, right, Mr. H?" 

The graying man smiled with a short nod as he sat in his chair once again, "So far, I have only received a couple of sign-ups, so your competition from our school is looking rather small. Do you have an idea for what your battle bot will look like this year?" 

"You know I can't tell you, even if I do," Vivien stated as she tugged her permission slip out and handed it to the teacher. As Mr. Hill glanced over the paper with mild interest, Vivien stepped away from his desk and looked over some of the objects the teacher had prepared. She picked up a few metal pieces she could use for either a weapon or a protective shield and placed them in a plastic Walmart bag that Mr. Hill had left out for the students to use. "Besides, I wouldn't dare divulge my secrets to my enemies," Vivien claimed theatrically as she glanced around at the other students in the room. 

Erica leaned forward just enough to stick her tongue out at Vivien, placing a couple of springs in a plastic bag the teacher had given her. Damon simply smiled but kept quiet as he signed out a workshop tool that he'd need to return in the next two weeks. Vivien returned his smile and chuckled; in the few years she had known him, Damon had always seemed to be a very quiet, reserved person, but he seemed to come a little bit out of his shell when it came time for battles such as this one. However, as opposed to his silent competitors, Preston Osborne scoffed at Vivien and rolled his eyes as he turned toward the brunette. 

He used the wrench he was holding to point at Vivien, watching her with scrutiny as he spoke, "After last year's height requirement debacle, I doubt anybody would take your advice." 

"What?" Vivien began sarcastically, her voice taking on an infantilizing tone. "Are you still upset that mine was bigger than yours?" Ignoring the snorted bark of shocked laughter from her blue-haired friend, the brunette, never one to back down from a fight with the arrogant male, moved so she could look Preston as straight in the eye as her shorter stature would allow. "At least you could see mine in the ring. Everyone needed a pair of binoculars to see yours; it was so small." 

Preston stared down his nose at Vivien before chuckling condescendingly, "At least mine didn't need a judge to do a height check last minute." 

"Yeah, and? Who won that battle again?" Vivien asked rhetorically. Gasping dramatically, she placed a hand over her chest and answered her own question, "Oh, right! Me." 

"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Preston retorted with an arrogant scoff. Then, his voice lowered as he hissed, "My dad could sue the shit out of your family. I'd run you and your whole family out of town."

"I don't know who told you that, dipshit," Vivien laughed, "but your daddy's got no power here and neither do you. In fact, I bet your 'big city lawyer' father would love to hear all about how often you try to threaten people in this school. Threatening bodily harm is a potentially jailable offense, you know. I can see the headlines now!"

Vivien pretended to gag as Preston leaned closer, his breath polluting her face as he snarled, "That big mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble if you don't shut it."

"If you think my mouth is big, I feel bad for your girlfriend." Vivien paused, gave a mock gasp, then added, "Oh, wait, you don't have one. Do you, shrimp dick?"

"Look, you little bitch, I-"

"Mister Osborne, Miss O'Brian," Mr. Hill interrupted, rising from his seat before the argument could get any worse. "I believe this argument will get you nowhere. Mr. Osborne, as you have already gathered your things, I suggest you sign out any tools you may need and leave before this ends up as another after-school detention for you. Miss O'Brian, please continue looking around for any particular parts you may need." 

Vivien nodded and waited for Preston to back down and storm off before she resumed her perusing, allowing the teacher to handle Preston as he approached the desk. Mr. Hill was one of the teachers who always formed his own opinions of the children who came into his class, regardless of their notoriety. The man didn't care about who the kids' parents were; he would treat him the same way he would treat any student. Vivien knew from Riven's occasional photography classes at the community college that Mr. Hill had taken opportunities to float around the different universities in the area, teaching robotics and photography when he wished; if he got fired from this school for not babying Preston or some other Karen's spawn, it probably wouldn't be a hard blow. Maybe that was why Vivien, Erica, and most of the other students who didn't like Preston liked Mr. Hill so much. 

Soon, but not soon enough, Preston left and took his bags with him, and Erica flipped him off as he disappeared down the hallway. Turning toward the grinning Vivien, she beamed, "Bitch, you handled him so much better than I would have." 

Vivien smiled as she tossed a handful of small springs into her wagon. "Thanks. I just- I can't stand him."

"Who can other than his parents?" Erica scoffed, "His head's so far up his own ass, I'm surprised he can walk straight."

"I have to agree with you," Mr. Hill piped in as he sat back in his seat. "Although Preston makes fair marks as far as I am aware, he rides on his father's reputation to keep himself above everyone else. Though, as a teacher, I must advise you change your approach, a couple of wounds to his pride will, hopefully, do him well over time." 

"I doubt he'll change," Vivien said, shaking her head, as she examined a small shell-shaped piece that could be used as a cover for her robot. 

The teacher returned to the book he had been reading, and Erica nodded in agreement before taking a battery holder and putting it inside her bag. She looked at Vivien's bag and shook her head at how much the younger girl had already stored away. "Well, I'm looking forward to being annihilated by you again this year, as always." 

Vivien knew the other girl was only joking, as Erica had told her before that she only entered the battles for fun and found it interesting to see how far she could get. With a smile, Vivien chirped, "And I look forward to annihilating you, as always." 

Erica laughed, giving Vivien a quick hug before leaving, claiming she and Jade were getting a ride to work from one of the girls on the cheer team who worked at the mall with them. Once her friend was gone, Vivien went back to picking out parts for her robot, picking out items she thought could be of use and tucking them into the bag that had begun to weigh her arm down. The brunette spent another handful of minutes in the classroom before deciding she had enough things. As she placed her heavy bag inside another, she tied the handles in a knot and said, "Well, Mr. Hill, I believe I'll be on my way." 

"Actually, Miss O'Brian, I have to go over the rules for the battles before you leave," the teacher claimed, tucking a bookmark into the novel he was reading before pulling a paper from his desk drawer. "Normally, I would wait until I have you in class, but since we won't be back in school until after spring break, now is as good a time as any." 

Vivien accepted the paper from the teacher, reading over the first couple of rules before nodding to herself. "Did they change them or something?" 

"Not exactly." Mr. Hill stood and made his way around the desk, sitting on the other side of the surface as he pointed out some of the notes at the bottom of the page. "The officials are new this year. They've agreed to keep the three-foot height acceptance, but they've eliminated the use of robotic arms that can be used to puncture another robot from the maximum height - as you can see here." 

"Let me guess, that rule was made because of my robot from last year?" Vivien pondered. 

"That would be my guess as well," the teacher agreed with a grin. "While that robot of yours was quite impressive, you have to keep it short if that's your plan this year." 

Vivien shook her head, knowing that wasn't her idea at all. She liked to change things up every year, never showcasing the same attack twice. Thinking for a moment, Vivien scanned over the jumbled nonsense on the page that she would probably hand off to Mick the moment she saw her and asked, "Are saws and shields still allowed?" 

"Yes, of course," Mr Hill said, nodding insistently. "It would be very hard to take that ruling out. Just remember that you need to have your robot done by the first of June. The following week, the judges will go through the ruling process. Any final adjustments will have to be made before the end of the school day on Friday, the ninth. The first day of battles will be Saturday, and Sunday will be finals and awards, as per usual." 

Vivien allowed herself a brief moment to process the information before nodding, a smile lighting her face as she spoke, "That sounds good to me." Picking up her backpack from the floor, Vivien folded and tucked the paper into the pocket of her jeans and headed out of the classroom. It wasn't until she was near the stairwell that she heard her name being called again. Turning toward the voice, she found Mr. Hill standing in the doorway of his classroom. "Yeah?" she called in return. 

"Just something I meant to tell you before you left." The teacher held his book up a little, a gesture that made Vivien believe he was going to quote something from it, yet, without looking down, he began speaking once more. "Those who are willing to work hard - day in and day out - to achieve their goals are the true winners, regardless of the scores or the judges' opinions. I don't doubt that you are one of those hard-working people, Vivien; you know what you're doing. Your skills never cease to amaze me, and I hope you prove me right again this year." 

With a raised brow, Vivien asked, "Prove you right, sir?"

"I've been an AP Robotics teacher here for twenty-three years," Mr Hill said. "It's not often that I have someone in my class throughout junior and senior high school. Other teachers said I  should have booted you down to the regular class with Miss Denis, but since the day you first walked into my class, I knew you had potential. Since then, you've proved them wrong every step of the way. I commend you for that."

Vivien stood in place for a moment, stunned at her teacher's kind words. "Thanks, Mr Hill. I won't let you down." 

"I know you won't, Miss O'Brian. You never do. Have a nice evening," he replied before turning back to his book and stepping back over to his desk, leaving Vivien standing alone in the hallway. 

Vivien stared at the spot Mr. Hill had previously occupied, letting out an airy laugh as a brilliant smile found its way onto her face. Taking in a deep breath, she straightened her posture and turned toward the stairs, propelling herself up them with newfound confidence. Her bag of assorted metal bits jangled, clanking together in a symphony of scrapes and tings as she ascended the stairs. Once she had reached the main floor, Vivien retrieved her lunch box from Erica's locker. The girl's four-digit code - 8104, Erica's birthdate and year combined - was one of the many Vivien kept in her notes app in case her friends ever forgot them, and even though she was sure Erica couldn't possibly forget her locker combination, Vivien enjoyed knowing that, if her friends needed her to, she could help them.

After tugging the lunch box out from the chaos that was Erica's locker, Vivien rushed to the office, saying a quick goodbye to her dad before heading to the main entrance, pushing open the first set of doors before lifting the hood of her jacket over her head and hoping her siblings had gotten the spare key to her car from their father as rain poured from above. Shoving open the door to the outside world, Vivien watched as rain slammed down in sheets, taking a deep breath before bolting into the freezing rain, letting out a shrill screech as she scurried across the parking lot to her car. She threw the door open and jumped inside, grateful her siblings had already started the car's heater, as she slammed the door shut behind her.

Abby smirked at her sister's reflection in the rear-view mirror as Vivien shivered in her seat, and with a snort, she asked, "Bit chilly, sissy?"

Turning back toward her little sister, Vivien nodded and sighed, "You could say that." Hauling her backpack and Walmart bag of metal parts over the gap between her seat and Oliver's, Vivien asked, "Can you hold onto these for me, Abs?"

Peering back as Abby placed Vivien's belongings on the seat next to her, Oliver asked, "You're doing the championship again this year?"

"When doesn't she, Olly?" Abby asked rhetorically as Vivien backed out of her parking spot. "She fights every year, and every year, she wins."

"I know that; I'm not stupid," Oliver retorted.

"Debatable," Abby shrugged.

Ignoring his twin, Oliver said, "I just thought that, since she was going on vacation, she wouldn't be participating this year."

"I'll have plenty of time," Vivien claimed, putting the car into drive and steering it toward the parking lot's exit. "Besides, I'll be with Mickie for a whole week. If my battle bot isn't at least halfway done by the time I get back, then one of us either got sick, somehow got pregnant, or died."

Oliver let out a snort, "I mean, fair enough, but aren't you going to do anything fun while you're in California?"

"Building things is fun," Vivien retorted, flicking on her turn signal and glancing both ways before pulling out of the parking lot, "but yeah, we're going to the beach, checking out some museums, and we might visit Disneyland if  we have the time."

Leaning forward between the front seats, Abby asked, "How is it possible that Oliver and I might have a more entertaining spring break than you?"

Sparing a glance at her siblings, Vivien asked, "What do you mean?"

With a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame, Oliver announced, "I'm going with Markus' family to New Jersey so we can check out that American Dream place with the indoor water park and ski slope."

"Really?" Vivien asked. Muttering more to herself than anything, she added, "I'm surprised Mom allowed that after you broke your ankle the last time you went on a trip with them."

Abby hummed in agreement before speaking, "And I'm going with Brynna's family to Great Wolf Lodge for her birthday."

"Those sound fun and all," Vivien admitted, "but how is that more fun than literally going across the country?"

"Because you're going to be doing nerd shit while on vacation while we're having actual fun," Oliver stated blandly.

As the car slowed to a stop at a red light, Vivien turned toward her brother with a knowing look, "You say that like you won't be spending hours upon hours researching some cryptid or something with Markus in the hotel room." Peering in the rear-view mirror, Vivien found Abby's gaze and said, "And, Abby, we all know that you and Brynna will spend your time playing with her little siblings instead of just hanging out."

Abby opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it again as she let out a soft sigh, "Yeah, I guess you're right." 

"Just because it's spring break doesn't mean we somehow magically turn into party animals once we're on vacation," Vivien claimed with a shrug as the light turned green, and she continued onward. "We've been ingrained to be responsible regardless of where we are, but I'm sure we'll all still have fun being boring with our friends."

Although they constantly joked about going to big house parties at their friends' houses and getting absolutely trashed on whatever alcohol they could find, none of the O'Brian siblings had actually ever gone to a big house party or willingly gotten drunk. Most of the people at their school weren't interested in big parties either as it would be increasingly difficult to get all of their friends in one town. Since their school was regional, kids from towns almost an hour away would be shuttled in on the handful of school-choice buses, making it hard for big parties to really be a thing. Besides, many, if not all, of the friends the O'Brians had made at the school were relatively introverted kids who cared more about their studies than getting wasted, making their running joke of getting drunk with their friends even more preposterous.

Abby peered out the window at the rain as Oliver said, "You know, I kind of like that we're boring."

"Oh, yeah?" Vivien asked, glancing at her brother as she checked whether or not she could cross through the intersection.

"Mhm," Abby nodded in agreement.

"It means our parents let us hang out with pretty much anyone without really caring," Oliver claimed. "Even if our plans were to go out and do dumb stuff at a friend's house, they wouldn't think anything of us going over there."

Abby thought for a moment before saying, "That's true, but we also would feel pretty bad if we took their trust in us for granted."

This time, it was Vivien's turn to hum in agreement, "Yeah."

For the first time since her parents gave her permission to join their neighbors in their house in California, Vivien felt wary about her decision. Although she knew that they had no qualms about her going to California as they had known the Birch family longer than Vivien had been alive, they had no idea about the other universe they would be taking her to. She had no plans of telling them about it as she had promised to keep it a secret from literally everyone she knew, but the thought that she was, for the first time in her life, taking advantage of her parents' trust to go off galavanting in a world they had no idea about. Even though she had no plans of doing anything wrong or illegal while there, a knot began to form in her stomach at the idea of letting her parents down for keeping such a large secret from them.

Taking a deep breath as she pulled onto their street, Vivien pushed her thoughts aside, allowing her excitement to fill her once more. She could worry about it later when she had Mick to talk her through every insignificant problem her mind could sprout up. For now, she had to get ready for the trip, and with a limited amount of time to get all of her clothes folded, she needed to focus on that. As Vivien's blue Kona pulled into the driveway, their mother stepped outside with a few umbrellas, making her way to the end of the walkway and waiting for Viviebn's car to stop. As soon as the car was in park, Chelsea held her umbrella over the passenger's door and opened it, handing her son an umbrella as he stepped out with his backpack.

Wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself, Abby tapped Vivien's arm and said, "I'll take your metal stuff in so it doesn't get wet."

"Are you sure?" Vivien asked in return as Abby handed her the purple backpack she had kept an eye on during the trip home. "I can take it."

"That's okay," she replied. Once the front passenger's door closed, she quickly took hold of the Walmart bag's handles and added, "I don't think Mom bothered to bring out your umbrella, and I don't want them to get wet."

Hoping to save her sister from having to lug the heavy bag inside, Vivien tried to gently argue, "I'm parking in the garage, Abs, it's not a long walk to the door."

"That's okay," Abby shrugged. "I've already got it. I'll bring it up to your room for you."

Before Vivien could say anything to the contrary, Abby grinned, pushed open her door, and slid out, taking and opening the umbrella her mom handed her before slamming the door and rushing to the house with their mother not far behind. Left with her mouth still open, Vivien breathed, "Thanks," before shaking her head fondly and pressing the button to open the garage. Once her car was parked in the spot furthest from the door, Vivien slid out of her seat, pulling her backpack with her. Glancing out at the pouring rain, the brunette sighed, hauling her backpack onto one shoulder and gripping her keys in her free hand as she rushed into the downpour with a squeal, closing the overhead door with a single click as she raced toward the front door of the house.

Once inside, she closed the door, grateful for the warmth of the house, as she trudged her way to the coat closet and began taking off her now-soaked sneakers. Loki soon joined her on the floor, licking the water from her cheeks as she tossed her sneakers onto the drying rack alongside her siblings' shoes. Running her hands through the dog's fur, Vivien felt herself calm as she thanked the dog for his warm welcome. Pushing herself from the floor, Vivien ascended the stairs with her backpack and her Saint Bernard, grateful her bedroom was near the landing, as Loki shoved his way into her room and onto her bed. With a sigh, Vivien rolled her eyes at the oversized puppy and dropped her backpack onto the floor at the end of her bed, plopping herself onto her mattress as she debated how much time she had to pack.

Not even a minute into her procrastination party, Abby stepped into the room without so much as a knock, snickering at her older sister's dawdling as she passed by. "You know, lying there like a limp spaghetti noodle isn't going to help your bags get packed."

"Okay, Mom," Vivien huffed with a smirk, missing the way Abby visibly winced at being compared to their mother. Taking in a heavy breath, Vivien pushed herself from the bed and sighed, "Is it weird that I'm not ready for this now that I'm leaving?"

"Not really," Abby shrugged as her sister entered the closet and pulled her suitcase down from the top shelf. "You get this way before out-of-state competitions too."

"This is different from comps," Vivien said as she placed her suitcase on the end of her bed and opened the shell. "I don't usually go far without you guys."

Stepping up behind her sister, Abby placed a hand on the older girl's back and smiled once she had Vivien's attention, "You'll have tons of fun and you know it. I'm sure you'll forget all about us once you land."

"That's impossible, Abs," Vivien breathed, pulling the lighter-haired brunette into a hug. "I love you guys too much to not miss you."

Lifting her head enough to see her sister's face, Abby replied, "Trust me, you'll be sick of us by the end of the week. Dad will keep you updated with pictures of Loki every morning like he does when we go to camp, I'll send you pictures of the lodge and everything interesting I see, and I'm sure Olly will send you paragraphs of random facts he and Markus found online while they're away. By the end of vacation, you'll be so sick of us that you'll want to get away the minute you come home."

Vivien laughed, "Probably, yeah."

Stepping out of her sister's hold, Abby grinned and said, "Now, come on, we have packing to do."

Allowing her sister to take the reins, Vivien headed into her closet to figure out what clothes she wanted to bring, hauling her plastic bins of summer clothes down from the top shelf as Abby headed into her en-suite bathroom to pack up the essentials Vivien had typed out on her phone. Once Vivien had fished out a handful of clothes she wanted to bring, she brought them to her desk and dropped them in a heap in her chair. By the time Abby finished getting stuff out of the bathroom and into the suitcase, Vivien was halfway done folding her clothes, something Abby had helped finish in record time. After reassuring her sister that she would be borrowing swimwear from Mick's closet upon her arrival, Vivien threw a couple of pairs of shoes into the mesh pouch on the lid alongside her journal and the astronaut-shaped galaxy projector she kept on her bedside table as a nightlight.

With her packing done quicker than she had anticipated, Vivien sent a text to Mick that she was all set before grabbing a dry hoodie from her closet and hauling the suitcase to the main floor of the house, leaving it near the coat closet so that she could slip on some shoes and get out the door as quickly as possible. Once everything was in place, she and Loki joined her siblings in the living room, where Oliver had begun setting up Mario Kart on the Switch. Sitting in the space the twins had left for her, Vivien took the purple joy-con from the coffee table and slouched into the comfort of the couch cushions as Loki took his place on the floor by her feet.

As she chose her usual character, Yoshi, Vivien's phone dinged, and she pulled it out of her pocket, giving her siblings the chance to argue over who got Baby Bowser. Unlocking her phone, she opened her dad's text and smiled. Peering over Abby's head to where their mother was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping at her freshly-made smoothie while she presumably scrolled through her Facebook, Vivien rolled her eyes and went back to her conversation, thanking their dad for his offer of dinner and asking if he could pick them up their usual McDonald's orders before tucking her phone between her thigh and the couch and picking up her joy-con once again. Breaking up her siblings' argument with ease, Vivien started the game. Once they figured out who got which character, the three of them quickly got immersed in their battle for the first place.

As Oliver overtook Vivien for second place in Coconut Mall, leading the oldest of the siblings to cuss him out and jab him with her elbow, the front door slammed shut, alerting the whole house to the new visitor. Loki let out a bark as he rose from the floor, abandoning his post as the protector in favor of following the smell of french fries and cheeseburgers to the front door. The kids called out greetings to their father as they entered the final lap of their race, getting a chuckled response as Damien made his way through the entryway to the kitchen. Damien set the flimsy drink tray and paper bags plastered with golden arches on the kitchen counters, ignoring the look his ex-wife sent him as he began pulling fries and boxes from the bags and setting them out according to which family member had ordered what.

By the time the kids had finished their race, Chelsea had begun arguing with Damien about the quality of the food he had brought home, but the man seemed unbothered by her attitude, pushing aside her frustrations as the children approached. Stepping aside to allow them access to their meals, Damien accepted quick hugs from each of his children and asked them how their school days had been before following them to the living room. As Abby began to explain how her usually strict English teacher had them watch a movie as he had a migraine, Vivien sat cross-legged in her usual space on the far end of the couch and put one of the throw pillows over her lap so that the plate she put her food onto wouldn't fall.

After her siblings had rambled about their days, Damien turned to Vivien and asked, "What about you, babygirl? Anything fun happen today?"

Vivien shrugged, swallowing her mouthful of french fries before replying, "Not really. I signed up for the battle bot tournament after class."

Before her father could say anything, Abby butted in, "Alix said they saw you at the first round of auditions for the musical. I told them there was no way 'cause you hate being on stage, but they said it was true."

"It was," Vivien admitted before taking a bite of her burger.

Oliver choked on his chicken nugget, coughing a few times before swallowing thickly and asking, "Wait, seriously?"

Nodding, Vivien dipped her sandwich in a pile of ketchup and said, "Yeah. Emily wanted to audition, but didn't want to go alone, so I stepped in. It's not that big of a deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Abby squawked, twisting so that she could see her sister better. "Alix said the drama teachers were thinking of cancelling the other auditions because of you."

"Bull," Vivien scoffed, carefully avoiding the rest of her accusatory cuss as she felt the growing heat of her mother's gaze. "It wasn't even a meaningful audition. I sang some ABBA and ran for the hills; there's nothing impressive about that."

"But Alix said-"

"Alix could have heard wrong," Vivien argued, cutting off her sister's statement before it could spiral out of control. "Besides, even if they do choose me - which they won't - I'll just step down and let the understudy take whatever role I get."

"That would be for the best," Chelsea stated as she stabbed her fork into the grilled chicken salad her ex-husband had bought for her. "We've all seen how you get on stage at your grandparent's camp; putting you in any leading role in front all those people would be so much worse."

Ignoring their mother's statement with a roll of his eyes, Oliver turned to Vivien and said, "You can't back down."

Vivien grinned, sending her brother a curious look as she asked, "Why not?"

"Because!"

"That's not a reason, Olly."

"But it is," Oliver claimed. "We've all heard you sing in the car and you love theatre. This is your chance to see what it's like on Boadway."

"Who says I want to be on Broadway?" Vivien asked with a laugh.

Oliver thought for a moment before saying, "Well, nobody, but-"

"But the school is petitioning to get the Titanic Musical for the April show next year," Damien piped up, eyeing his eldest daughter out of his peripheral vision as she froze, her handful of ketchup-soaked french fries hanging in midair as she processed his claim. Smirking, he added, "If you have at least one show under your belt, they might consider you for one of the primary roles when the time comes."

Excitedly watching the wheels turn in Vivien's head, Abby grabbed her sister's free wrist and wiggled it as she said, "See! If you back down now, you'll never get to be in Titanic next year."

Vivien sighed, green eyes shifting from mild annoyance to fondness as she turned to her younger sister and slipped her fingers between Abby's, "As much as I would love that, there's no chance of me getting the lead."

"Would you at least try out for Titanic next year?" Oliver asked. "That would be right up your alley."

With a snort, Chelsea chortled, "She would probably spend all her time critiquing the accuracy of everything."

"Actually," Vivien began, finding a sliver of courage to meet her mother's gaze, "the show is fairly accurate when it comes to representing the people aboard the ship that night. The historical details are only slightly manipulated to add more drama, and-"

"See," Chelsea began, glancing between her children and ex-husband, "she's already at it."

Abby opened her mouth to argue, but Vivien's grip on her hand tightened, telling her to back down before things could get worse. Abby's bluish-brown eyes found Vivien's emerald gaze, and with a shake of her head, Abby resigned, returning to her food with a barely audible sigh. Refusing to let their last family dinner before spring break be soured by the cutthroat words of his ex-wife, Damien took the remote from the coffee table and switched the input back to the Roku before letting the kids decide between two of the movies on their watchlist - The Outsiders and The Truman Show.

With the rather unanimous vote of The Truman Show, the family settled in once more and relaxed as they watched Jim Carrey's character come to life. Not long into the movie, Abby shifted between Vivien and their father, and it wasn't long before she was sprawled out over the two with her head on Vivien's lap and her legs on their dad's. Once Abby had settled into a comfortable position, Vivien began absentmindedly running her fingers through the girl's lighter hair, calming both of them at once as Truman watched his dad get shoved into a bus and taken away. However, further into the movie, as Truman began drawing a spacesuit around his reflection, Vivien's phone began to ring, and she quickly stood, shoving a somewhat disgruntled Abby off her lap and taking her trash with her to the kitchen before answering the phone. 

After checking the caller ID, she smiled, tossed her trash into the bin next to the refrigerator, and quietly said, "Please tell me you're on your way."

A snort came from the other end as Mick replied, "Hello to you, too. I mean, damn, child, are you that willing to run away from home?"

Vivien glanced at her family and chuckled, "Maybe a little."

"Well, good," Mick replied. "We're pulling into the driveway now, so come out when you're ready."

Snickering to herself, Vivien said, "I thought you already knew I was bi, Mickie."

"Look, rugrat," Mick snipped, though Vivien could clearly hear the humor in her tone. "We're parked by the garage, but bring a rain coat or something; it's pouring."

"Still?"

"Yup."

Vivien sighed, "Alright, I'll be out in a few." She sucked in a deep breath and smiled to herself as Mick hung up her end of the call. Vivien headed back to the living room and grinned as she noticed Oliver holding the remote, keeping the movie paused until her return. Ruffluing her brother's hair, she cooed, "Aww, Olly-bear! Did you pause the movie just for me?"

Shoving her hand away, Oliver ran his hand through his hair and scoffed, "No, I just didn't want to have to rewind it for you."

"Yeah, sure," Abby drawled sarcastically as she punched her twin's thigh.

Chuckling as the twins began arguing over Oliver's ability - or lack thereof - to show kindness, Damien twisted in his seat, found Vivien's gaze, and asked, "Was that Mick and her parents?"

"Yeah, they just pulled up," Vivien nodded, glancing toward the front door.

With a smile, he asked, "Are you ready to go, babygirl?"

Vivien excitedly nodded, but her excitement seemed to dim as Chelsea asked, "Go where, exactly?"

"To California," Vivien explained. "You know, for spring break?"

"I never said you could go," Chelsea stated, finally looking up from her phone with steely eyes. "A trip like that requires planning, and I highly doubt you, of all people, are prepared to fly three thousand miles across the country for a week in some random city you've never been to."

Before Vivien could argue, Damien turned to his ex and said, "She asked both of us months ago, and, actually, she's had everything planned out since I gave her permission. Vivien's a smart girl; she wouldn't jump into something without proper planning."

"She even helped Abs and I plan our trips with our friends," Oliver piped up.

Placing a hand on her dad's shoulder and glancing toward her brother, Vivien thanked him with a smile before turning toward their mom and saying, "And, since Dad gave me permission, I can go, right, Mom?"

Chelsea took in a deep breath, glancing between Damien and Vivien with a stare that would end wars, but finally, she picked up her phone and huffed, "Fine. Go."

Hoping to get out the door before her mother could change her mind again, Vivien began making her way to the door, only to hear footsteps rushing up behind her. Turning, Vivien smiled as Abby and Oliver jogged up to her, Abby wrapping her in a hug as Oliver stood to the side with a grin. Squeezing her older sister, Abby pleaded, "Take lots of pictures for me, sissy."

Letting out a breath of a laugh, Vivien waited until Abby stepped back before taking her keys from the hook by the door and pushing them into the palm of her sister's hand. At Abby's confused look, she said, "Can you put them in your lockbox for me? I don't want Mom to use my car while I'm gone just 'cause it has lower mileage than hers."

Nodding in understanding, Abby softly asked, "Do you want your diary in there too?"

Vivien shook her head, "I'm taking it with me, but thank you."

Oliver shuffled closer, hinting at his desire for a final hug before his oldest sister's departure as he asked, "What about your fancy rocks?"

Wrapping her arms around Oliver's shoulders, she replied, "I took a few with me, but I doubt Mom will do anything with them because most of the ones I left are big and would be obvious if they went missing."

"If you're sure," Oliver mumbled into Vivien's shoulder before patting her back and slipping out of her grasp.

Once she took a step back, Vivien reached into her pocket and pulled out two colorful crystals, holding one out to either of her siblings, "For Abby, some charoite. It's good for keeping away negativity and helping you see a new side of yourself. Hopefully, it'll help you relax while you're away."

Abby smiled at the purple rock, shifting it in the light to see the different hues before thanking her sister and pocketing the crystal. Then, with a roll of his eyes and a smirk, Oliver accepted the smooth green lump and said, "Let me guess, this is some hard-to-pronounce rock too."

"Actually, no," Vivien snickered. "It's green aventureine and it's good for creativity, luck, and opportunities. I figured, with all the activities you'll be doing, and the theories you'll be picking apart, it would be nice to take with you."

Rolling the crystal around in his palm, Oliver allowed his smirk to spread into a smile as he handed Vivien her raincoat and said, "Have fun in Cali, Vivi."

Vivien smiled but didn't have the chance to respond as her father entered the room and said, "She will. Brady and Mack reassured me that they had a fun week planned."

Finding her dad's tired eyes, Vivien slotted herself in his arms and asked, "Will you be alright here without us for a week?"

"I'll be fine," Damien claimed as he ran a soothing hand over Vivien's hair. "Your mother is going on one of her work trips on Monday, so I'll be alone most of the time you kids are away."

Peering up at her father, Vivien smiled, "A week of empty-nesting, huh? That'll be interesting for you."

Damien pressed a kiss to Vivien's forehead and smiled, "It'll be over before I know it. Now, do you have everything?" Vivien nodded. "Are you sure? You've got your toothbrush, hairbrush?"

"I'm sure, Dad," Vivien chuckled. "And, before you ask, yes, I have the taser pen Riven's dad gave me. I took the batteries out and everything, just like he taught me."

Nodding, Damien sighed, "Good. I know I'm overthinking this, but I don't want you to be in a strange city without protection."

"I know," Vivien said with a knowing smirk. "And I don't blame you. It would be stupid of me to go without anything."

Damien hummed before smiling at his oldest girl, "I had your sister sneak something into your bag from the three of us, but promise me you won't open it until you get where you're going and have the chance to settle in."

Glancing at her sister, wondering when she could have slipped something into her luggage, Vivien smiled and said, "I won't, I promise."

"Good," he said, more for himself than his daughter. Then, patting her arm, Damien told Vivien, "Alright, well, get going before I chicken out."

"Alright, alright," Vivien snickered as she rolled her eyes up at her dad. "I'm going."

Allowing his daughter to step away and pull the zipper of her raincoat up as far as it would go, Damien pulled up her suitcase handle and held it out for her to take as he breathed, "Have fun, sweetheart."

"I'll try."

Placing a hand over Vivien's, he smiled, "You will." Once Vivien nodded in agreement, he requested, "Let us know when you land, okay?"

"Of course," Vivien beamed, anticipation bubbling up in her chest as she nodded excitedly. "I'll let you know when we get to their house too."

As Oliver opened the door and Vivien stepped out, Abby said, "I'll let Mom know you said goodbye."

Vivien crossed the threshold of the house and dragged her luggage with her, waving to the Birches and saying, "Thanks. I'll see you guys in ten days."

"Have fun!" Abby called as Vivien rushed through the rain to the Birch family's minivan.

"Enjoy the sun!" Damien said as Brady helped Vivien haul her suitcase into the trunk before closing it.

"Don't get wasted on the beach!" Oliver added, earning him a middle finger from his oldest sister and a tap on the back of the head from their dad. "What?" he asked rhetorically as Vivien hopped into the van and rolled the window down. "I'm just saying."

As the vehicle began to roll down the driveway, Vivien leaned out as far as the seatbelt would allow and yelled, "Love you!"

As her family called back in kind, Vivien rolled up the window and relaxed in her seat, earning a chuckle from Mick as the older brunette greeted her, "You look like a wet dog."

Laughing breathlessly, Vivien pushed her stringy, wet bangs away from her forehead and sighed, "I probably smell like one too, to be honest with you."

Mick pretended to sniff the air before grinning, "Only a little bit."

Vivien smiled and tipped her head to the side, finding Mick's gaze as she sighed, "I hope I don't look like a drowned rat when Royce sees me."

Mack laughed from the passenger's seat, leaning over the center console to see Vivien as she reassured her, "You won't, sweetheart. We'll make sure of it."

"I mean," Brady drawled as he pulled out onto the main roads, seemingly weighing his options until Mack slapped his arm with the back of her hand.

"Brady!"

"Kidding!" the man chuckled, somewhat proud of his playful jibe as the girls in the backseat snickered.

Vivien sighed contentedly as she relaxed into the van's faded, somewhat worn fabric seats, "I've missed this."

"You won't be saying that for long," Mack claimed. "By the end of the first week, you'll be begging us to send you home."

"Doubtful," Vivien replied with a smile. The idea of spending any length of time in the world Mick had been talking her ear off about since the day she discovered it back in December had been like something of a fantasy for Vivien. Now that she actually had the chance to see the places in her friends' pictures, the thought of cutting her stay short for anything other than the most dire circumstances was bizarre. "I'm pretty sure you'll have to drag me away kicking and screaming."

"Well, we certainly won't be doing that," Brady laughed.

"Yeah," Mick agreed, taking Vivien's hand with a brilliant smile. "You can stay there with us for as long as you want."

"And time here won't change, right?" Vivien recounted.

"Right," Mack agreed. "That machine will allow you to stay as long as you like without anything changing."

Mick nodded, watching Vivien's thoughtful eyes flicker behind her circular frames as she explained, "We turn the time control mechanism off while we're in this world so that they can enjoy life normally there, but we freeze time here so that we can enjoy things without having to go back and forth to pay bills and stuff like that."

Vivien grinned, "Like taking random teenagers into different dimensions without their parents feeling the need to call everypolice department in the tate to see if they can send out search parties?"

"I guess you could say that," Brady snorted as he pulled onto the turnpike and pressed the gas pedal further toward the floor.

The conversation seemed to split from there as Mack pulled up the directions to the airport on her phone, telling Brady to slow down before they reached a particular spot the state troopers liked to park in order to catch people speeding on the turnpike. Watching trees and distant buildings fly by as the car sped up, Vivien pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the Discord chat she had with her bandmates, sending them a selfie of herself and Mick before hastily typing a message about them finally being on the road.

Erica was the first to respond - her text of "bitch, you bettr not become a fuckign valley girl!" appearing just before Riven's "Have fun, Pip! Don't get eaten by a shark; I need you for comp" and followed soon after by Jade's ever-calm message of, "ignore their bs. we love you. stay safe. xoxo." Vivien snickered as the trio began blowing up her phone; Erica starting an argument with Riven about sharks being harmless while also telling Jade to fuck off for being the responsible one.

"You good over there?" Mick asked, her humor evident as Vivien glanced up from her phone.

Holding out the device and leaning over so that they could both watch the drama unfold, Vivien explained, "Erica's being a bitch, Riven is a sarcastic shit, and Jade's acting like a mother hen, so Erica picked a fight with both of them."

Mick watched as Erica sent a wall of text that only consisted of the middle finger emoji, snickering, "So, a normal day, then?"

"Pretty much," Vivien agreed. As they watched conversation bubbles appear and Erica's rant spiral into nonsense, her smile faltered. She would miss them while she was away. Even when her family went on vacations, Riven would go with them, and she could text the girls anytime she wanted. This time, her ability to message them and ask them for advice on things would be revoked the minute she entered the other world. With a heavy sigh, she admitted, "I'm going to miss them."

Taking in the girl's expression, Mick reached up and placed a hand on Vivien's back, rubbing circles into her plastic raincoat as she said, "It'll suck for a few days, but after a while, you sort of get used to it."

Peering up at the older girl, Vivien allowed herself to smile, "You're talking from experience, aren't you?"

"Sadly," Mick confirmed. "My instincts were to take pictures of everything to show my friends when I got back, but then I realized I couldn't. It took a while to adjust and my phone is still full of pictures nobody else has seen, but after a while, I got used to just saving the memories for myself."

Nodding in understanding, Vivien breathed, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I can send them some pictures when I get back, but until then, I can keep them to myself."

Pivoting in her seat, Mick turned toward Vivien and asked, "So, what are your plans for Royce? Are we doing a casual surprise where you just walk in and say hi or are we doing something grand in front of everyone?"

"I don't know," Vivien shrugged. "I haven't really given it a lot of thought. I was more concerned about my mom keeping me from going."

"Well, now we've got time to think it through!" Mick exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Not much time,” Mack explained. “We’ll be at the airport in about five, maybe ten minutes, and since we have a private flight, we’ll be in the air within the hour.”

“You guys never told me you have a private jet,” Vivien stated. “Like, I knew you guys had money, but damn.”

“It’s not ours,” Mick shrugged.

“One of my friends from school became a pilot,” Brady explained. “He’s offered us free trips whenever we need it since he knows how often we travel to the East coast and it gives him the opportunity to visit some family of his in Vermont.”

Vivien hummed, more to herself than to anyone in the vehicle, “That’s nice of him.”

After a moment of relative silence, Mick patted Vivien’s hand and told her, “Anyway, regardless of what you decide to do, Royce will be surprised.”

“You think?” Vivien asked. “I thought someone would have told him by now.”

Mick shook her head emphatically, beaming proudly as she explained, “Actually, I haven’t told anybody that you’re coming.”

Vivien’s eyes glittered with excitement as she asked, “Seriously?”

Mick nodded, her wavy hair bouncing with the movement, “I'm not the greatest at being sneaky, so the only person who might know is Butchy, and he’s not one to spill things like that.”

“That’s insane!” Vivien exclaimed, a laugh tumbling from her lips at the thought of surprising her friends with her sudden appearance in their world.

“I know, right!” Mick giggled. “But that means we have endless possibilities for surprising people. It all depends on where they are at the time.”

“When we land, it will be about one in the morning, Pacific Time,” Mack explained. “On a commercial flight, we usually stop a few times along the way to swap planes or pick up new passengers, but since this is private, we’re going to stop in New Jersey for a few minutes due to busy airways, and then get back in the air.”

“That will give us plenty of time to think about it,” Mick said cheerfully.

“And give both of you the chance to sleep,” Brady reminded his daughter, peering at her in the rearview mirror before he pulled onto the street that led them to the airport. “We don’t need both of you to be zombies when we touch down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mick brushed off with a wave of her hand, her excitement over the whole situation outweighing the concept of sleep. “Anyway, I’ve got ideas for both options, and we can talk about them on the plane, if you want.”

Sending the older girl a smile and a nod, Vivien watched Mick smile and relax in her seat; pulling out her phone as Vivien took in a slow breath and glanced out the window. As they passed the Mall of New Hampshire, Vivien snapped a quick picture of the building and sent it to the group chart that had begun to quiet without her presence there to encourage the chaos, sending a cheeky message teasing the two girls who worked within the large, stucco and concrete building. Jade was the first to respond, her video message of her waving to the camera, arriving on Vivien’s phone as they pulled up to a gated parking lot. As Brady began speaking to the guard, listing the passengers and which flight they were on, Vivien sent a private message to Riven, telling him how nervous she was about being on a private plane.

‘You have nothing to worry about, Pip,’ was his reply. ‘The Birches know what they’re doing and wouldn’t put you in danger like that. Just breathe. You’ve got this.’

Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth, Vivien sent back a reply of gratitude and tried to relax as the car lurched forward and moved past the gate. Mack popped open the console between herself and Brady, pulling out a trio of passports before turning toward Vivien and asking, “Do you have your passport ready?”

Reaching under her rain coat and into the pocket of her hoodie, Vivien pulled the navy blue booklet out and handed it up to Mack, who added it to the stack in her hands. As they rolled down the tarmac, Vivien watched through the windows, trying to guess which aircraft they would be in. Narrowing it down the further they got, Vivien let out a noise of surprise as Brady turned to the side, lurching her toward the door as he pulled to a stop in a parking space. Looking around in confusion, Vivien followed the others out of the car, following Mack to the back of the vehicle, where they pulled their luggage from the trunk.

Mick grabbed Vivien’s free hand, pulling her toward a jet that had the door open and a set of stairs waiting. Pushing the handles of their suitcases down and picking them up by the straps on top, the girls boarded the plane, pushing their suitcases to the side to be scanned before finding seats to collapse into. Nudging Vivien into a window seat, Mick took the seat across from her and relaxed, waiting for her parents to board before instructing the younger girl to buckle up.

After the pilot came to greet them, telling them all the basics he needed to go over before the flight, he returned to the cockpit and announced that they would be leaving as soon as he had permission from the traffic control tower. With much reassurance from the others, Vivien began to relax, snapping pictures of the plane and the setting sun to send to her friends and family. After another announcement came over the speakers about taking off, they were in the air, and Vivien’s phone returned to her pocket as the seatbelt lights turned off. Peeling off her rain coat and shoving it into the seat next to her, Vivien huffed a sigh of relief as she realized the part she had worried about the most was now over.

Watching as the ground below grew smaller and harder to see, Vivien turned her attention to Mick, who had folded her arms on top of the table between them, leaning closer with a smile that told Vivien she didn’t want to know what the girl was going to get her into. “Do I want to know?” she asked the older brunette.

Vivien could hear the girl’s feet thumping against the base of her chair as she swung her legs back and forth, but Mick’s smile refused to dissipate as she explained, “I’ve been cooking up ideas for you.”

Nodding to herself, Vivien rolled her eyes, “Yup, didn’t want to know.”

Ignoring the girl’s statement, Mick said, “I was thinking-”

“That’s dangerous,” Brady chuckled from his seat on the opposite side of the plane.

“Dad,” Mick sighed dramatically. When the older man snickered and struck up a conversation with his wife, Mick turned her attention back to Vivien with a roll of her caramel eyes. “I figured that, once we land, we can-”

“Go to sleep?” Vivien interrupted.

“Ha!” Mick laughed. “No.”

“Yes,” Mack said, her motherly tone giving Mick little to no wiggle room as she deflated slightly.

“Okay, yeah, that too,” Mick relented. “But we can pick out some cute outfits from my closet and make sure you feel beautiful before we go.” Pointedly turning toward her mom, Micxk asked, “Right, Momma?”

“So long as you two aren’t up all night, yes,” Mack replied before taking a sip of the water bottle she had taken from the cabin’s mini fridge. “Now, Vivien, did you have anything to eat, sweetheart? They have sandwiches and things in the fridge, if you’d like.”

“That’s alright,” Vivien brushed off graciously. “Dad brought home some Mickey D’s on his way home from work.”

“I’m surprised he made it through the warden with that,” Brady said in a scoff.

Vivien smirked as the other two women gave their own forms of agreement, simply glad she wasn’t the only one who found her mother’s strict food control to be something of a nightmare. “Yeah, well, he didn’t exactly give her a choice. He came in, gave her a salad to shut her up, and let us get our meals without letting her anger break him down.”

“Good for him,” Mick grinned.

“Glad to know he’s finally growing bigger balls than hers,” Mack added. “I think we’ve all been placing bets to see how long that would take.”

With a hum of agreement, Vivien allowed the conversation to flow between topics, absentmindedly bringing up the subject of the battle bot project she wanted to work on when they got the chance, something that made Mick practically vibrate with excitement. Brady brought up the idea of using his tools if need be, which inspired Mick to go off on a spiel about possibly going to either Butchy’s or Miles’ place of work to utilize their welding kits and use some of the metal scraps they had tossed aside. By the time Mack had managed to pull them away from the topic at hand, they were starting to make their descent at an airport in Newark, New Jersey.

Before the plane took off again, Vivien sent a few relatively dark images and some quick messages to the people who knew she was leaving before stepping into the bathroom of the jet to call her aunts before they went to bed. They discussed the trip and spoke for a while about all of the activities Vivien was looking forward to before they wished each other a good night. Vivien promised to let them know when they landed before ending the call and scurrying back to her seat as the captain announced their approaching departure. Once they were back in the air and allowed to roam about, Mick showed Vivien how to recline her seat and find a comfortable position to sleep in before offering the girl a blanket and promptly passing out in her chair.

One by one, Vivien watched as the Birch family succumbed to the land of dreams, but despite her growing exhaustion and yawns tumbling from her mouth every other minute, she couldn’t find it in herself to actually sleep. She could have easily chalked up her inability to sleep to her nerves, but that wasn’t quite right. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew that there was nothing to worry about. Royce and Bentley would love to drag her around, Carrie had promised to take her to the lot they were filming on if she ever found herself in their world, and even Butchy and Miles had discussed dragging her to their respective jobs to show her knowledge of old vehicles off to their respective coworkers. There was nothing for her to be worked up over.

Forcing herself to take in a deep breath and push her unfounded fears aside, Vivien allowed another yawn to overtake her as she stretched. Reclining her seat and tugging her blanket around her shoulders, Vivien slouched into a more comfortable position, tucked her cell phone into her pocket, set her glasses on the table between herself and Mick’s slumbering form, and waited until the soft humming of the plane’s machinery lulled her to sleep. To her dismay, what felt like only a few minutes passed before Vivien found herself being gently shaken awake, grumbling at the interruption as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

A chuckle came from a blurry form as Vivien searched blearily for her glasses, listening to the person apologize in a soft voice before handing her the glasses she was searching for. Finally peering up at the person, Vivien found Brady smiling back at her, offering her a hand as he told her, “We just landed, kiddo. Time to go home.”

Chuckling exhaustedly as she stretched herself out like a cat rising from a comfortable position in the summer sun, Vivien muttered, “Am I too old to ask for someone to carry me?”

Brady let out another soft laugh, “Never, but I haven’t carried anybody in years, and I’d rather not drop you down the stairs of a plane.”

Vivien snorted and pushed herself from her seat, “Yeah, let’s not do that, then.”

“Smart girl,” Mack advised, patting the teenager on the back as she passed her on her way back from the bathroom.

As Brady worked on waking Mick from her slumber, Vivien folded up the blanket she had used, made sure she had everything she brought with her, and followed Mack to the front of the plane, where they received their belongings. Yawning as she followed Mack down the stairs, Vivien welcomed the warm California air with a tired grin. “It’s nice out,” she muttered as Mack led her toward a pale blue Jeep that had been brought onto the tarmac for them.

Accepting her car keys from the driver who brought the car over, Mack chuckled, “My phone says it’s fifty-something right now.”

More than content with the idea of the summer-like weather, Vivien sighed happily as she hauled her suitcase into the trunk of the car alongside Mack’s, “Like I said, I think you guys will have to drag me kicking and screaming from this place.”

Bringing an arm around Vivien’s shoulders, Mack smiled, “Just wait until you see how close we are to the beach.”

Vivien’s eyes glittered as the woman brought her to the side of the car, encouraging her to climb inside as Mack slid into the driver’s seat. However, before she climbed inside the vehicle, Vivien pulled out her phone and took a picture of the plane they landed in, sending it to the group chat with her bandmates before sending a message to her family members, letting everyone know they had landed safely in Santa Ana and were on their way to the Birch family’s home. Once she was sure the messages had been sent, Vivien slid into the backseat behind Mack and pulled the seatbelt across her body. Once the others had found their way to the car, Mack started the engine and pulled away from the plane, heading through a series of gates before making her way to the street and pulling away from the John Wayne Airport.

Unable to fall back asleep as they pulled onto the San Diego Freeway, Vivien watched with wide eyes as she took in the glow of the city. Throughout the half-hour drive, Vivien took a myriad of pictures. Glowing palm trees, buildings in the distance that appeared to touch the sky, and, as the freeway pulled them through San Juan Capistrano toward the beach, pictures of a seemingly endless night sky over the water. Smiling as he watched the girl take another picture, Brady encouraged his wife to take the long way home without saying a word, and Mack took the next exit, pulling onto Pacific Coast Highway and following it until the first set of lights she could turn at. At the next intersection, she turned onto Park Lantern and followed the street toward the water until it merged with Coast Highway.

The couple suppressed their laughter as Vivien gasped, leaning over their daughter to take pictures of the water that was still covered by a blanket of stars in the nighttime sky. Once houses began to block her view, Vivien relaxed, but her excitement was still very much palpable as the car glided down the highway. Turning toward the backseat, Brady kept his voice hushed as they slowed to a stop at a red light, “If you want a good shot, our street sign is right up here.”

“Really?” Vivien whispered.

Brady hummed in confirmation, “It’s on the light post up here on your side.”

Sure enough, as Vivien leaned closer to her window and squinted up at the post, she found a green sign with the words “Camino Capistrano” in thick, white writing. Although her cell phone refused to see the sign in the dark, Vivien smiled and kept her eyes on it until they had turned onto the aforementioned street and could no longer see the sign. Smiling more to herself than anything, Vivien watched with bated breath as Mack drove further up the street, past a traffic light, and through a curve. When they finally pulled to a stop in front of a fancy black gate with a Mediterranean-style roof and a few doors on either side, Vivien felt her jaw hit the floor.

Contrary to popular opinion, Vivien’s family had money. For a while in her childhood, her family had lived in an apartment that barely gave them enough room to live, but they had enough money to put food on the table and buy new things here and there. After her grandparents offered them the opportunity to move into their old house and take over the winery while they moved closer to their beloved summer camp, Vivien felt as though she was the luckiest person on the planet. While they weren’t exactly Elon Musk-level rich, the winery her parents operated and her grandparent’s summer camp made them more than financially secure. Knowing she had the chance to take on their jobs in the future, Vivien thought she would become richer than she had ever previously thought possible. However, as she got her first look at the Birch’s house, she realized she didn’t know shit about rich people.

Being well off on the East Coast meant having a home you owned, a car or two, and potentially a pet if you felt like it. Most people back home enjoyed taking up residence in old, colonial-style homes that would set them back a good hundred thousand dollars at least and were originally built for families with eleven or twelve children. East Coast wealth was classy, clean, and, well, antique. West Coast wealth, on the other hand, was a new kind of expensive. Stepping out of the car once they rolled to a stop in the four-car garage, Vivien couldn’t help but feel poor in every sense of the word.

Although Vivien had seen bits and pieces of the house over FaceTime with Mick, the sheer size of the house was astonishing. Following closely behind her friend, Vivien’s eyes scanned from the large, orange roof to the various balconies, to the swimming pool that seemed to wrap around the side of the house, and the various water guns and toys strewn about in the yard that were evidence that her friends from another world had visited before the Birches had come to collect her. Entering the house, Vivien waited for the lights to turn on before looking around at the pristine entryway. A large glass chandelier hung above the entrance, glimmering rays of light throughout the hall and part of the living room.

Although Vivien felt more than awake and ready to explore the luxurious home, Mack and Brady urged her to follow Mick upstairs once she had taken her shoes off by the door. Relenting despite her excitement, Vivien followed Mick up the hardwood stairs, grinning at the various childhood photographs of Mick and her friends along the wall as they climbed. Coming to the landing, Vivien found herself taken aback once more by the view. Across from the top of the stairs was a panoramic view of the beach across the street, a comfortable lounge area settled facing the floor-to-ceiling windows with a television mounted on the right wall - the only one without windows.

Before she could take a moment to process the kitchenette on one side of the staircase or the gaming area on the other, Vivien found herself taken by the wrist around the banister to a short hallway with three doors. They passed a room with Mick’s initial painted on the door, but Mick didn’t so much as glance toward her bedroom before opening the door to another room at the end of the hall and stepping aside for Vivien to enter.

With a yawn, the short brunette explained, “This used to be one of our guest rooms, but the boys usually take it when they stay with us, so a lot of Bentley art supplies and Royce’s books stay here.”

Looking up at the coffered, waffle-esque design on the ceiling and the various signs of life in the room, Vivien let out a disbelieving laugh, “This is insane.”

Mick took a look around and sighed at how poorly she had cleaned the room before leaving the week before, “Yeah, I know it’s not the cleanest right now, but we can pick everything up in the morning if you-”

“No, no, no!” Vivien said with a quick shake of her head, turning back toward her friend with a smile as she stood her suitcase by the end of the queen-sized bed. “Mick, you don’t understand.”

Confused in part by the conversation and part by her lack of sleep, Mick’s head tipped slightly to the side as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I thought my house was big and that we were well off,” Vivien began, twirling around as she examined the room before finding Mick’s gaze again, “but I think yours just bitch-slapped my whole family onto the poverty line!”

Mick let out a snort, shaking her head fondly, “Well, don’t start comparing dick sizes just yet, gremlin. Save that for a time when I can actually think straight.”

“I hardly ever think straight,” Vivien smirked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed she had been given.

With a roll of her eyes and a fond smile, Mick teased, “Believe me, I know. Now, try to get some sleep. You don’t want jet lag to knock you out on your ass later.”

Raising her hand to her forehead in a mock salute, Vivien said, “Sir, yes, sir.”

Chuckling, Mick wished the younger girl a good night before disappearing into the hall, leaving the girl’s door open so that she could see the dimly lit lights in the hallway. Taking in a deep breath in the silence of her new room, Vivien hefted her suitcase onto the bed beside her and unzipped it, pulling out her astronaut lamp and setting it aside before tugging a pair of celestial pajama shorts and a matching tank top from one side of her suitcase. Picking up the luggage, she carried it over to a chair and left it open in the seat, changed into her pajamas, plugged in her lamp, and slipped under the covers with her headphones in one hand and phone in the other.

Putting on her headphones and listening to one of her favorite ASMR channels while watching the stars dance across the ceiling, Vivien finally found herself able to fall asleep relatively quickly. Dreams of surfing cerulean waves with her friends filled her night, and by the time the sun had begun poking through the curtains on either side of her bed, Vivien felt well-rested and ready to start her day. After hastily getting dressed in something appropriate for the eighty-three-degree weather her phone forecasted, Vivien took her time examining the house as she made her way down to the kitchen. Mick’s bedroom had already been vacated, and if the voices floating up the stairs were anything to go by, she was with her parents.

Making her way through the house to the kitchen, Vivien smiled as she listened to her friend’s family converse. The energy in the Birch’s house was always somewhat calming to Vivien, an environment where she could relax and feel at home regardless of what they were up to that day, but the feeling of belonging never wavered, no matter how far apart they truly were. Watching Mick dance around with her mother to the music on the radio, Vivien smiled as she leaned against the island counter. Brady nudged her arm as the song changed, beaming at the new addition to their household before offering her his hand. 

Without much hesitation, Vivien placed her hand in Brady’s and allowed him to lead her in a bouncy dance that twirled them around the kitchen as Vivien giggled. Mack and her daughter stopped after a while to watch the pair, listening to Vivien half-sing, half-shriek her way through the lyrics as Brady spun her around the kitchen with ease. As the song came to an end, he twirled Vivien away, grinning as she laughed over the voice of the radio host.

Once her vision had stopped spinning, Vivien giggled, “Good morning, America!”

Brady chuckled, “Good way to get the blood pumping early in the morning, right, kiddo?”

Vivien nodded, but it was Mack who spoke, “We find it’s nice to do something fun before you start your day.”

“Speaking of starting your day,” Mick began as Vivien climbed onto one of the stools on the side of the island, “are you feeling up to leaving yet?”

“Makana,” Mack scolded lightly, “let the poor girl wake up first.”

Vivien smiled as Mick sighed dramatically, but she shook her head as she turned to the older woman. “It’s alright, Mrs B. I think I’m too excited to be tired.”

Sighing as he opened the fridge, Brady said, “Well, that’s good because I think we’re going to have to have breakfast at Butchy and Lela’s house this morning.”

Mack appeared confused for a moment before realization dawned on her face, “We forgot to pick up food last night.”

Mick shrugged, “It was two in the morning.”

With a shake of his head, Brady turned to his daughter and asked, “Do you mind us using your kitchen?”

Before Mick could reply, Vivien asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to go to Big Momma’s for breakfast since we have to go there anyway?”

“It would be,” Mick replied with a nod, “but by the time we pry Lela off of you, it’ll be time for lunch.” Turning back to her parents as Vivien nodded in understanding, she said, “Butchy and I can make up something while everyone gets settled in.”

Mack nodded and turned her attention back to Vivien before asking, “Would you like to go now, then? Do you have anything you would like to bring with you?”

Vivien thought for a moment before nodding, “I brought some stuff with me that I wanted to show everyone. Can I run up and grab it?”

“You don’t have to ask, Vivien,” Brady insisted. Nodding toward the stairs, he said, “Just go; we’ll still be here when you come back.”

As Vivien slid out of her seat, Mick patted her arm excitedly and said, “Just put your clothes on the bed and take your whole suitcase. I’m, like, ninety-three percent sure you’ll leave with more clothes than you came with.”

Her excitement surging at the idea, Vivien nodded and hurried for the stairs, bounding up them two at a time and pushing aside her desire to explore the large home as she headed for her room. Moving her suitcase from the chair she left it on to the end of her bed, Vivien began pulling out a majority of her daily clothes, leaving her essentials, headphones, charger cords, astronaut lamp, the envelope with her name on it that her siblings and father had given her before she left home, and a few items of clothing Carrie and Lela had let her “borrow” and never got back. Once she was certain she had everything she wanted to bring with her for however long she would be away, Vivien zipped up her bag and took in a deep breath. Glancing out the window at San Clemente, Vivien smiled at the knowledge that, within mere minutes, she would be transported into a world she had only ever heard in stories and seen in a movie.

Grabbing her suitcase by the handle, Vivien left her bedroom and headed for the stairs, lifting her bag before her descent and taking the handle once she’d reached the landing. Practically skipping to the kitchen, Vivien beamed at the Birches as she cheered, “Ready for liftoff!”

Happy to show off his work to a new person, Brady clapped his hands and gestured toward the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard, “After you, kiddo.”

Vivien took the lead, opening one side of the door and sucking in a sharp breath as she was hit full-force with the heat of Southern California. Mick snickered, wrapping an arm around Vivien and guiding her toward the shed at the back of their property as she chuckled, “Welcome to California.”

‘Ugh,” Vivien groaned, “is it always like this?”

“Not always, no,” Mick claimed, “but believe me, summers are much worse in Florida.”

Hoping the older girl was simply joking, Vivien remained quiet until Mick ushered her into the shed, and she was made to carefully toe her way around scrapped projects and stray tools until she reached the yellow, tube-shaped behemoth pressed securely against the back wall. A large flower Vivien recalled seeing on a surfboard hanging on the wall in the Birch’s home was engraved into metal at the very top of the machine, wires and metal bars sticking out behind it in a haphazard yet efficient way. Pulling the handle on the right side of the machine, Vivien stepped back as the rounded glass panel at the front slid back into the left side of the machine.

With a gentle nudge from Mack, Vivien stepped into the machine, followed soon after by the family who had brought her there. As the glass door slid closed again, Mick took her friend's free hand and told her to hang on to her belongings before instructing her to watch out the window to see things change around them. Somewhat cautious of the machine as it whirred to life, Vivien watched as a vibrant glow from above seemed to illuminate the otherwise dark mechanic's shed. A soft hum filled the air as colors began to swirl outside the machine, a kaleidoscope of hues coming to life in a vibrant array that faintly reminded Vivien of a show she had seen as a child. The colors grew brighter and more vibrant, rivaling the LED lights Vivien knew Oliver had lining his ceiling before slowly dimming and allowing Vivien to see her first glimpse of another world.

Although she didn't want to appear let down by the view she was given, Vivien couldn't help her quirked brow and immediate response of, "It's an old pickup in a dark garage. Cool."

Nudging her friend with her elbow, Mick stepped around her to open the door and snorted, "It's Butchy's. Now, come on."

Taken by the hand. Vivien was dragged into the house and pulled toward the kitchen, where running water could be heard just over the sound of Chubby Checker's song The Twist that played over the radio. As she came to a stop, Vivien felt a smile split her face as she took in the striped wallpaper and yellow cabinets, the vibrant colors of the room making it feel even more inviting than she thought it would. Tilting so she could see around Mick, Vivien held in a laugh with a hand over her mouth as Butchy turned off the faucet, and Lela's voice could be heard as she danced to the music beside him. It wasn't until the music came to an end and the radio host began speaking about the next song that the raven-haired girl noticed the new figures in her house.

Lela jumped and pressed a hand to her chest, her instinctive reaction to cuss out her sister-in-law cut short as she spotted the taller brunette standing behind Mick. Letting out a screech so shrill Butchy flinched behind her, Lela rocketed forward, all but shoving Mick out of the way in order to wrap her arms around her younger friend. Rocking Vivien from one side to the other, Lela excitedly asked, "What are you doing here?!"

"It's spring break back home," Vivien explained as Lela moved back just enough to squish her cheeks in her hands. With her lips resembling that of a goldfish, Vivien continued, "I wanted to surprise everyone."

Prying his sister's hands away from the sixteen-year-old's face, Butchy smiled, "If this is anything to go by, I think Royce might end up having a heart attack when he sees you."

"Let's hope not," Vivien chuckled somewhat nervously. "I don't particularly feel like killing him."

"Sure," Butchy chortled sarcastically. "You know, I've seen some of those crime shows you love so much, piccola. You'd be arrested in an instant if you tried to kill anyone."

Smirking, Vivien said, "First of all, I watch those enough to know how to not get caught at this point. And, second, one of these days, I'm going to figure out what you're calling me, big guy."

"I'm sure you will," Butchy grinned, allowing the girl to step forward and bring her arms around him as he ruffled her hair. "It's good to see you again, Viv."

Staring accusatorily at the man as she took a step back, Vivien asked, "Is the swear jar still in place here?"

Confused as to what that had to do with him being glad to see her, Butchy slowly nodded, "Yeah, why?"

"In that case," Vivien huffed, "I'd say it's nice to see you too, but maybe I shouldn't just yet."

"Oh yeah?" Butchy questioned. "Just because of the swear jar?"

"Mhm," Vivien nodded. "You keep that thing in place and I'll be broke by the end of my first week here."

Butchy chuckled, but before he could formulate a response to Vivien's jab, Lela spoke up, "You're staying for more than a week?"

Turning to the shorter girl, Vivien shrugged, "I was hoping to, if that's alright."

Mick chuckled as she began pulling things from the refrigerator, "She is. I don't think her staying is the problem."

"What do you mean?" Lela wondered.

Butchy stepped up to the counter to help Mick make breakfast before answering, "After letting the boys know she's here, it'll be nearly impossible for them to let her return home."

Lela breathed a noise of understanding before taking Vivien's hands and saying, "We need you to look as normal as possible before you go see the boys. How do you feel about borrowing something of mine?"

Smiling, Vivien nodded, "You're the boss."

As Lela let out a noise of excitement and began pulling her away, Butchy called out, "See you in three hours."

Vivien barely got the chance to look around on her way up to Lela's room, pulled up the stairs faster than she thought humanly possible as Lela began babbling about all the things she wanted to do with the younger girl. Although the girl's excitement was evident, Vivien couldn't help but feel astonished at how fast Lela could talk when she was happy. As Lela pulled her into her bedroom, Vivien couldn't help but look around in wonder at how different it was from the movie. Despite everything looking fairly similar, there were touches of modernity that stood out against the mid-century style of the room - pictures from modern times that had made it back in the girl's luggage, an old iPod Vivien was sure Mick had given her, and some items strewn about that Vivien recalled seeing the older girl buy in her world.

Before Vivien could ask her about anything she saw, Lela pulled her over to the closet, where she revealed a room that had Vivien convinced she had somehow ended up transported to Mia Thermopolis's closet from the second Princess Diaries movie. Two plush chairs sat against the far wall, racks of clothes illuminated by little dome lights lined the walls, and shelves of shoes and accessories filled the empty space. Lela scanned the racks of clothing as Vivien looked around in wonder, picking up a pair of oversized sunglasses with a smile before setting them down and moving on to the shoes.

Moving with practice ease through her color-coordinated clothing, Lela pulled clothes down by their hangers and began stacking them on her chair. Once she felt satisfied by the selection she had laid out, Lela turned to Vivien and smiled as the girl looked at herself in the mirror with a pair of elbow-length gloves, cat-eye sunglasses, and a large sunhat that flopped in front of her face. Stepping up behind the girl, Lela said, "Time to play dress-up."

Vivien giggled, pulling the sunhat off of her head and lowering the sunglasses as she said, "I think I already am."

"And you look fabulous," Lela claimed with a smile before stepping aside and gesturing to the clothes on one of her chairs. "However, I put aside some clothes for you to try on."

"Ooh," Vivien sang as she turned around, setting her accessories aside in favor of the large pile. As Lela began setting things in their rightful places, Vivien picked through the clothing and quickly found herself lost in the myriad of colors, fabrics, and styles. "You want me try on all of this?"

Lela glanced at the dainty watch on her wrist that her uncle had gifted her for her birthday before answering, "Well, I think we'll only have time for a few before they bring us something to eat, but yeah."

Shifting a pair of shorts onto the arm of the chair, Vivien mused, "I'm surprised you didn't want me in a dress today."

"Normally," Lela began as she made up the distance between herself and the brunette, "I would have, but where most of my dresses would be far too short on you, I figured we could make up for that at the shops later. For now, I figured pedal pushers, tees, and some shorts would be more comfortable for you."

"You're definitely not wrong," Vivien smiled. Turning to the older girl, she asked, "Where should I try these on?"

"Right here," Lela beamed, unhooking a curtain from the wall and letting it fall between herself and Vivien. "If you find anything you feel suits you for the day, let me know and I'll come help you look for accessories. In the meantime, I'll be doing my morning skincare."

Excitement flowed through her like an ice-cold drink on a hot summer day, and Vivien thanked Lela before turning toward her pile of clothing and sorting through everything. Setting aside bottoms she could put together with various tops, Vivien began picking out options and trying them on, examining her reflection before trying on something new. After trying on different outfits for a while, Vivien finally settled on one - a pair of striped, white and lavender shorts with a matching purple tank top that covered far more skin than that of the tank tops back home. Lela was quick to offer assistance with the rest of the outfit, deeming Vivien's classic, black and white, doodle-covered Converse acceptable before selecting a handful of necklaces and bracelets for the brunette to choose between.

Once they had taken a break to eat breakfast, Lela began working her magic on Vivien's hair. After making sure her bangs were separated from the rest of her hair by a curler, Lela brushed out Vivien's hip-length locks before pulling them up into a ponytail and securing them with not only an elastic but also a ribbon. Lela curled the very ends of Vivien's ponytail so that it all ended in a uniform ring before spraying it down with enough hairspray to poke a hole in the ozone layer and pulling the curler out from under Vivien's bangs. 

Grinning in disbelief at her reflection in Lela's vanity, Vivien thanked Lela for putting in more effort than she ever did back home, "I could never do anything like this."

"You could," Lela argued as she placed the cover back on her canister of hairspray and set it on the corner of her vanity. "It just takes practice, that's all."

"And far more patience than I could ever manage," Vivien chuckled, rising slowly from the bench Lela had practically shoved her onto. "Seriously, though, Lela, thank you."

"Anytime," Lela beamed. Checking her watch once again, she clapped her hands and said, "Now, I believe it's time we show you off to everyone at Big Momma's."

"What about Royce?" Vivien asked hesitantly as Lela began to leave the room. "Shouldn't we go see him first?"

Turning back to Vivien as she opened her bedroom door, Lela smirked knowingly, "His shift starts early on weekends."

"His shift?" 

But Lela was already on her way out of the room, a wink being the only response Vivien could pry from the girl as she followed Lela out of the room and down to the living room where everyone else was waiting. With everyone else decked out in their finest sixties regalia, Vivien didn't feel half as out of place as she assumed she would be as she followed them outside, where a blue Volkswagen bus waited. As Mick climbed into the driver's seat, Vivien was allowed the seat beside her, and once everyone was inside, they took off down the road. Taking in the sights of the beach town as they rolled down the street, Vivien found it impossible to wipe the smile from her face.

The look of everything in the area was so different than what she was used to back home - mid-century houses with slanted roofs and fun doorways lined one side of the street while small businesses with typically fifties and sixties fonts in their windows lined the other. Turning toward Mick, she said, "I think I'm already in love."

With a laugh, Mick's gaze flitted toward the brunette before settling on the road again as she turned into a small parking lot where a few cars and motorcycles had parked, the expansive beach and a large building with a thatched roof within walking distance of the lot. Confused, Vivien followed the others as they climbed out of the car, but as everyone headed around the building, Vivien found herself dragged by the wrist toward the back entrance. Mick held the door for her younger friend and guided her through the kitchen before depositing her by the refrigerator and telling her to stay low until she came to get her. 

Resigning to her fate of being stuck between the fridge and the trash can, Vivien crouched low to the floor, observing the people in the kitchen as they moved around, seemingly without noticing her presence. The smell of freshly cooked fish and baked potatoes filled the air, contrasting the stench of the food scraps piling up in the trash next to Vivien as she inched as close to the fridge as possible. However, as a blonde waitress entered the kitchen through the swinging door Mick had left through, Vivien found herself caught. With a hesitant smile and an awkward wave, the blonde neared the fridge with a tray and gathered colorful bottles of soda from it before placing it on a stainless steel counter and glancing over her shoulder at Vivien.

"Are you supposed to be back here?" the girl asked, a thick, southern twang accenting her voice.

Vivien swallowed thickly, offering a shrug as she explained, "My friend pushed me back here."

"Why?" the blonde questioned as she began popping off the lids of the sodas.

"I'm trying to surprise my boyfriend," Vivien explained. "I'm from New Hampshire and he doesn't know I'm here."

The blonde glanced around the kitchen, seemingly looking for someone, before settling her hazel eyes back on the girl crouched on the floor. Lowering her voice, she said, "Be grateful Big Momma isn't back here. This place is supposed to be staff-only after the soda geyser incident that happened a few weeks ago."

"Soda geyser?" Vivien repeated, mildly curious as to whether or not that had anything to do with the Mentos experiment she had shown the boys over Facetime not long ago.

"It was a huge mess," the blonde said before waving it off. Kneeling down to the brunette's height, the girl held out a hand and asked, "What's your name?"

Latching hands with the girl, Vivien smiled and said, "I'm-"

"Vivien, it's time!" Mick whisper-yelled as she pushed open the swinging door. Finding the girl on the floor and the blonde in front of her, Mick stalled, the gears in her brain turning for a moment as she processed the scene before a smile appeared on her face. "Oh, hey, Juliet."

"Hey, Mick," Juliet greeted. Turning back to the girl before her, she asked, "I presume that makes you Vivien?"

Vivien nodded, "And you Juliet?" 

"Guilty as charged," Juliet smiled, her teeth a blinding white in comparison to her peachy lip gloss. Pulling the younger girl to her feet, Juliet asked, "So, what's the plan? How're we surprising this lucky mystery boy?"

"Well, I was thinking Viv could go out and pretend to be a waitress to surprise him," Mick claimed.

Glancing through the serving window, Juliet asked, "What table are they?"

"It's Miles' little brother, Royce," Mick explained. "He should be on his lunch break with his brothers now, right?"

Juliet's wide-eyed gasp shocked Vivien as the blonde whirled around, "Wait, for real? You're with Royce?" When Vivien slowly nodded in confirmation, Juliet let out a soft chuckle, "Everyone thought he was pulling our legs when he said he had a girlfriend. Especially 'cause he said she lived in a different state."

"Well, he was telling the truth," Vivien smiled nervously. 

"I guess so," Juliet beamed. Turning to Mick, she said, "Anyway, I just got all their drinks together. If you want to head out now, I'll take Vivien here with me and say she's a new trainee."

Mick thought for a moment, but it didn't take her long to decide, "Honestly, that's a better plan than mine. I'll go back to my seat, and I'll see you out there in a few!"

As Mick hurried back through the door, Juliet turned to Vivien and asked, "So, newbie, are you ready for your first day at work?"

"I guess so," Vivien said, sucking in a deep breath. 

With a smile, Juliet took a spare waist apron from the hangers on the wall and tied it around the younger girl before picking up her tray of sodas and asking, "Think you can carry this to their booth?"

"I can certainly try," Vivien offered, eyeing the collection of colored liquids.

Once Juliet was sure Vivien had a good hold on the tray, she said, "Just stay behind me and don't say a word until I introduce you. The less chance he has of seeing you, the better chances you have of surprising him."

Vivien nodded, and without another word, Juliet began to lead the way out, holding the door open behind her for Vivien before leading her through the busy restaurant. Vivien didn't get the chance to look around much as they walked, more focused on not spilling any drinks than exploring. However, as Juliet stopped at a booth along the far wall, Vivien looked around, hoping to see some familiar faces among the crowds.

Clearing her throat, Juliet spoke, "Hope y'all don't mind, but we've got a new girl with us this noontime and I figured I'd show her the ropes while Royce here takes his break."

"That's fine, Jules," Vivien heard Miles say. "What's her name?"

"I figured I'd let her introduce herself when she's ready," Juliet said, glancing over her shoulder at Vivien before stepping aside.

Finally able to see the group in the booth, Vivien took in the look of surprise on Miles' face first. Miles quickly got Carrie's attention by squeezing her hand, getting her to look up from the menu in her hands. Cerulean eyes glittered like fireworks as Carrie saw the girl standing at the end of the table, and she hurriedly tapped Bentley's shin under the table with the toe of her shoe, making him lift his head from the crayon drawings he had begun on the back of one of the disposable, paper placemats. Somewhat annoyed at the interruption, Bentley lifted his gaze with a question on his lips, but as Carrie pointed to the end of the table, his question died, and his mouth dropped open, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

Before anyone could signal Royce to lift his head from his arms as he yawned tiredly toward the table, Vivien smiled at his tangled curls and said, "Hey, handsome."

Without bothering to look up, Royce decided that, since nobody else cared to speak, he would, and mumbled, "Believe it or not, Miles has a girlfriend."

Vivien fought down a laugh and said, "Believe it or not, I wasn't talking to him."

The first to pull himself out of his shocked stupor, Miles grinned and said, "Royce has one too."

"I don't see her anywhere," Vivien said, placing the tray of drinks on the end of the table. "Maybe I need a mirror."

Royce rolled his eyes, lifting his head from his arms enough to take his soda from the tray as he said, "Not interested."

"Royce," Bentley began warningly but was quickly stopped by Miles as the oldest of the brothers placed a finger to his lips and gestured for the boy to stay silent.

"Damn," Vivien sighed as Royce's forehead rested against his arms once more. "And here I thought we would have lasted at least half a year before you decided to break up with me, Rolls."

Startled by the choice of nickname, Royce's eyes peeled open, and through the corner of his eyes, he found himself looking at a pair of Converse with faded doodles on the white of the toe, but it wasn't until he saw the tiny ship charm dangling from her laces that he began putting pieces together. As he slowly lifted his head, Royce found himself frozen with shock. Sure enough, standing before him was his girlfriend, but she looked as though she had stepped out of a magazine. Her typical jeans and T-shirt were replaced with clothing he was used to seeing on some of his friends at school, and her hair was pulled into a ponytail he knew she would normally complain about at the end of the day, but she didn't seem upset by it in the slightest. Her round glasses caught the light above their table perfectly, glinting magically as the light above another nearby table casted a golden halo around her from behind. For a while, Royce was convinced he was seeing things - Vivien couldn't be in his world; it was impossible! She would have told him she was coming! - but then she smiled down at him and said something he couldn't hear over the thoughts running rampant in his head.

Swallowing as he blinked up at her, Royce softly asked, "Vivien?"

The girl before him laughed, and while that beautiful symphony was all he needed to hear, her nod dispelled any further doubts he could have had. Rocketing up from his seat, Royce lunged forward, bringing his arms around her as far as they would reach, nearly lifting her from the floor as she giggled by his ear. They stood like that for what felt like an eternity before Royce backed away enough to take her face in his hands, examining her as though it was the first time.

"Hey," she breathed, as eloquent as ever.

"You-" Royce cut himself off with a laugh, "You're real. You're real and you're here. How are you here?"

Vivien shrugged, "Magic."

Scoffing a laugh, Royce shook his head and brought her back into an embrace that she quickly returned. Looking over her boyfriend's shoulder at the group, who had now pulled themselves out of the booth to greet her, Vivien smiled and gestured for Bentley to join them. Needing no further encouragement, Bentley was quick to attach himself to the pair, ducking under Royce's arm as it came around his shoulders and smiling as Vivien's snuck around his back. The trio refused to separate until Miles asked for his hug, making Vivien pry herself away from her boys for long enough to give Miles and Carrie a greeting as well. Then, just like magnets, the trio fell back together again. This time, however, they separated after a minute, and with Vivien's hands locked firmly in theirs, the boys began showing her around to anyone and everyone who would give them the time of day.

Vivien couldn't help but smile as she was dragged through the restaurant, her face burning like a neon firetruck. As much as she hated being the center of attention, she tried to swallow back her growing anxiety at being surrounded by strangers in favor of allowing the boys to introduce her to the people they cared about. She was sure her growing nerves and embarrassment at being shown off like a prize horse would wear off over time once the boys began to settle, and she wasn't about to complain to either of them until they were calmed down a bit. After all, they had waited long enough for this. Besides, what was the harm of a little embarrassment? If it meant the boys' gleaming smiles never left their faces, she would deal with it a thousand times over. Catching Royce watching her fondly as Bentley introduced her to some of their and their brother's friends, Vivien smiled. 

Maybe - just maybe - she could get used to this.

[werewolfsmile]

My sister @vampiritea and I are playing a Leverage game. I say an episode title and she has to try and figure out what happens in that episode. It has been a wild ride so far.

(disclaimer: she has seen EVERY EPISODE at least TWICE)

Me: The Carnival Job Her: All I see is Eliot going *wheeeee -- splat* Me: LMAO YES

Me: The Ho Ho Ho Job Her: ....I am begging that it's a Christmas episode

Me: The Big Bang Job Her: idk, it's a big bang so ... there are explosions? A big explosion? Me: It's one of my favourite episodes. Her: That doesn't help. They're all your favourite. Me: It's Eliot-centric Her: well, OBVIOUSLY! Me: It has a cringey fight scene Her: Oh! Where he slides on his knees while he's being shot at?? Me: Yes!

Me: The Van Gogh Job Her: Ah, it's about a painting. A Van Gogh painting! But he has a lot of paintings so ... that doesn't help.

Me: The Long Way Down Job Her: I'm thinking it's something in the snow? Where they climb up a mountain cause if they fall it's a long way down. Me: Correct! Would you believe there's another episode called The Snow Job? I get these two mixed up all the time. Her: ..... Wait what's The Snow Job then??? Me: I'll give you a clue. They're only in a snowy location for like, 1/4 of the episode. If that. Her: ?????

Me: The Miracle Job Her: The Miracle Job ... miracle ... it's a miracle ... The Miracle Job. Where miracles happen.

Me: The Homecoming Job Her: Homecoming ... Is this where they have that high school reunion thing? Me: No ... That's The Reunion Job Her: 😐

Me: The Beantown Bailout Job Her: My first thought is when they go into a bank ... and there's a briefcase ... Me: No Her: Okay. I tried. (later) Her: There's a car ... a bad guy runs away ... Nate saves someone ... Me: He saves two people. Her: He saves two?? One's a child ... the other her dad ... Me: Yes Her: Right ... It's a cool story, dunno how it fits with anything.

Me: The Fairy Godparents Job Her: ...Yikes

Me: The Ice Man Job Her: That's when Hardison's Australian! Me: .....NO!! (context ............. we're Aussie)

Me: The Runway Job Her: The runway .... where they strut their stuff ... like models? Me: Yep. Are you remembering any of this? Her: Nope! I'm just good at detectiving 😇

Me: The Zanzibar Marketplace Job Her: It happens in a marketplace! Me: Um... Her: (sees my face) Or does it??

Me: The Bottle Job Her: Well, that's the one where they're all stuck inside a bottle. Me: 😂 Her: Does it have anything to do with Nate and his alcohol problem? Me: ... A little, yeah. Her: Is that why it's called The Bottle Job? Me: .... No.

Me: Do you want an easy or hard one? Her: Easy! Me: Okay, The Future Job. Her: ........... I said easy.

Me: The French Connection Job Her: Oui oui, baguette, Eiffel tower ... I'm just getting in the mindset of a Frenchman ... No, that's so racist .... Please don't write that!! 😭 (later) Her: Eliot is a chef Me: Yes Her: Teaching people? Me: Yes Her: ...Why?? (later) Me: Do you remember Toby? Eliot's mentor?? Her: Eliot has a mentor. File that away for later. (later) Me: (describing the beginning of the episode in detail) and they beat the snot out of Toby- Her: (whispering) I have no memory of this.

Me: The Broken Wing Job Her: Um! (sticks leg in air) Parker!

Me: The (Very) Big Bird Job Her: ...... Sesame Street?!

Me: The Long Goodbye Job Her: That's the one where they all die Me: 😨 Her: Was I supposed to be softer about that?

Me: The Real Fake Car Job Her: Oh I know that one. That's with the car thieves and the girl, and Hardison has to electronically unlock the car. Me: ....... Her: What?? (oh wait I know now..)

Me: The Jailhouse Job Her: Nate is in jail! I think they break him out? I don't know why, though. (whispering) Leave him in there.

Me: The Gone Fishin' Job Her: That's where they go fishing. Me: Do they though?? Her: No! They get interrupted! 😎

[squarebracketsmileyface]

I have no clue if anyone has offered up this song before. (Or if you're still taking them) But Des Rocs - Nothing Personal Reminds me Sorry, Its locked. Specifically how Alex treats Jay. (I hope you see my vision)

Oooooo i haven't heard of this song before. It's fun. I'm definitely still taking songs, i'm always taking songs, i fucking love getting new songs for sorry it's locked lol. its the best way to think about the fic while i can't actually write it for whatever reason.

The way the dude sounds like he's losing his mind as the song progresses is so perfect honestly, because yeah, Alex is slowly losing his mind.

Okay, shitty sleep deprived lyric analysis whoooo. Enjoy lmao, if this makes no sense blame my going to sleep at 4am last night.

I found you sleeping in my coffin Pale white and in your favourite party dress I start to feel a little nauseous Bloody tears, they are falling as I wept

Okay, but like, this whole thing makes it sound like the singer is a vampire, right? Alex feeling like he's undead. He's dead but his body just keeps going.

The first line is like when Alex woke up after he and Jay had sex at his house. He woke up to find Jay in his bed (i know he didn't actually wake up in the morning with Jay in his bed, he found Jay in the laundry closet, but he can have woken up in the middle of the night or something and saw Jay), in his coffin if we're going by the whole undead thing, which i am, and he feels like he must have drained Jay dry (of energy not actual blood, but you know) hence the 'paleness,' and he starts to realize just how badly he's fucked up by doing all the things he refused to in college.

And it makes him feel sick and really upset because in the back of his mind he starts to realize he's going to have to drive Jay away, otherwise it'll cause all sorts of issues.

You could use a little action Run away and lead a life without consequence Reaching for a book of matches Strike a light and you'll see the real mess that I am

Alex want's Jay to leave of his own accord, he wants Jay to take action and leave so that he doesn't have to kill him, and if he makes Jay think he's making the decision to leave on his own he's more likely to stick with it. If Alex just told him to leave, Jay would more likely try even harder to get answers and figure out what's happening.

Alex is going to show Jay just how nasty he can be, just what a mess of a person he can be, in hopes that it'll scare Jay away and keep him safe.

I swear it's nothing personal (X8)

Alex is desperately trying to remind himself that it's not anything to do with a personal dislike for Jay (it's literally the exact opposite lol), he is doing everything to keep Jay safe, and if Jay was anyone else he'd have done the same to try and save them (as long as he liked them the same way he liked Jay)

I'm gonna take you home 'Til the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

Self explanatory, he took Jay home and they had sex at his house, in his bed, for the first time. And then in the morning he did a full 180 from being lovely to being a dick, but it wasn't personal. it's not because he hates Jay or anything like that and he's desperate to remind himself of that and prove himself.

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

Gay. Lmao. Sorry, anyway, yeah, Alex saw Jay again in that parking lot and he just wanted to, like, let things go back to how they used to be even just for a little bit. He wanted to 'lose control' and just ignore all the stuff he's meant to be doing (killing Jay) to do something enjoyable instead (fucking Jay), and that 'loss' of control would actually be him taking control of the situation, and taking control of Jay again, like back in college.

This time when Alex swears it's nothing personal he's doing it in a desperate attempt to tell himself that it's not because he likes Jay, he's just pent up and frustrated and anyone would do. But it is personal. It is because it's Jay. He knows he'll have to kill him at some point, but he's trying desperately to find a reason not to do it yet.

I, I wanna drain you of the mourning I wanna tear away the shadows brick by brick I know you could've used a warning You thought I kissed you just to borrow some lipstick?

Alex hopes that taking Jay back to his house and having sex with him there will kind of make it so that Jay's less upset by having to make the decision to leave. Logically, he knows that's not how that works and fucking Jay at his house and in his bed just made it more painful for Jay to leave, because he finally got a taste of everything he'd been hoping he could one day have with Alex, but then again Alex isn't thinking straight, so.

Jay definitely could have used a warning when it came to everything Alex did, like, all the stuff the morning after, but Alex couldn't give him one. If Alex had given Jay a warning that he was going to be lovely to him and then turn a full 180, that would have worked against Alex's goal of making Jay hate him.

Also, the last line, about the lipstick, to me kinda sounds like the singer is saying that he didn't just kiss his partner for some stupid reason, like to borrow their lipstick. He kissed them for a real reason. Alex kissing Jay on the forehead and cheek and all that wasn't for no reason, Alex did it because he likes Jay and he knew that'd be the last chance he ever got to do that.

Go be a stranger at a party Reading lips across a room of empty space With a secret you keep guarded Like a funeral buries all our past mistakes

Again, Alex needing Jay to leave and hate him and become a stranger.

I swear it's nothing personal (X8)

I'm gonna take you home Until the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I'm gonna take you home Unil the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I... (X4)

I'm gonna take you home 'Til the morning comes I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I, I see your collar bone And wanna lose control I swear it's nothing personal I swear that it is nothing personal

I...

All repeated lyrics so same as above because i'm too tired to come up with anything else, i keep going to bed at 3am

[hms-no-fun]

where did the inspiration for cat!dave come from. i love it btw, im just curious where it came from

catdave, like a lot of stuff in the gf3 prologue, just sort of happened. it's one of those things where in writing that chapter, jade grabbed a button that did a thing as a way to keep their villain-narrator honeypot from collapsing, and i decided to roll with it. turning dave into a house cat seemed like a fun gag, especially considering awkweet purrmusk and davepeta and all that. karkat picking up catdave with horror and protectiveness was really funny to me, just like NO HE'S MY BOYFRIEND YOU LEAVE MY SPECIAL MAN ALONE. then i thought, wait, what if a cat had time-distortion powers. what if catdave was like, i'm the hottest fucken kitty that ever did strut, i'ma slow down time and make everyone admire me. that joke alone was enough to keep catdave in, and i figured okay, we'll roll with this for a minute and then reverse it at the end and it'll be a funny anecdote. "hey remember that time dave turned into a cat?"

but unfortunately for dave, this is godfeels. i can't ever just do a fun joke about transformation. if we're gonna accept that jade has a button that can turn people into the animal they secretly want to be, that's gotta have CONSEQUENCES. what is this, fucking rick & morty??? there will be no resetting to the status quo at the end of THIS episode thank you very much!

of course by the time i got to publishing that first catdave chapter i'd figured all this out. dave's sort of defined by his repression and embarrassment at himself and his wants. i've imagined him sticking to his "i don't want to be a hero" thing very closely, and with that just kinda chilling with karkat all the time. (oh there's actually a funny pseudo-continuity error related to this-- in gf1 someone mentions what makes dave and karkat such a good couple. i'd imagined then that davekat were absolutely a totally out gay together couple. then the epilogues said actually no they were still too repressed to actually DO anything, and i decided to lean into that because two incredibly gay men no-homoing together for seven years is really funny/tragic to me from a story perspective. and since i decided to make gf2 parallel the epilogues, it seemed appropriate to fold that back in. i think in gf2 this gets papered over with june being surprised that they hadn't kissed yet? but that's def a thing that changed between fics from my perspective lmao)

so it seemed to me that catdave was a minor analogue to trickster mode- an unexpected jump straight to Personal Apotheosis without the journey necessary to give it any meaning. and that quickly mapped onto the problem of out queer people treating obvious eggs like their own Pet Project, pressuring them and pushing their boundaries even when it IS to some extent what they want. so dave keeps his cat ears and tail because he's a closeted furry with Some Gender, but because his friends all thought the transformation was funny and cute the end result was actually pushing him even further back into the closet. and since i knew that we were aiming towards davekat divorce fever anyway, that felt like the *perfect* dramatic intervention on his character. this is the hardest part of building an ensemble cast drama; giving everyone something Clear and Concise to deal with that can stand in for all their problems, so we can cut right to the chase when necessary.

this process is, in microcosm, the fundamental backbone of godfeels. it's about taking deadly seriously the personal and existential ramifications of extraordinarily silly impossible bullshit.

[andromedaexists]

WUPDATE: Desecrate

𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝟷𝟹𝚝𝚑 || 𝚂𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙱𝙱

This week has been interesting to say the least! I'm leaving at 5am tomorrow for Seattle, which means that I had to fit a full 45 hour work week into Sunday-Wednesday. Needless to say, not much else got done lmao

But that's okay! I'm planning on getting the QBD back up and running this weekend (I wake up early so I figured I'd work on it while waiting for Lilloon to wake up). I also really want to hit 10k in Desecrate re-writes this weekend, and we're already really close!! We're sitting at 7,160 words as of right now! I think hitting 10k this weekend is feasible!

Next week is also going to be rough, I'm arriving back home at 12:30 AM on Tuesday, then I have to fit a 50 hour work week in before the end of Saturday!

Lots of work right now to accommodate my travel, but also lots of progress on my projects! I'm also anticipating having some big announcements on Easter Sunday and I'm participating in the Trans Rights Readathon from March 22nd-29th! Oh!! And I started recording my family recipes and uploading them on YouTube in preparation for a secret project!

Lots of updates, lots of updates! But without further ado, some snippies!

Snippit one:

Kit takes in a deep breath, trying to ground himself. What was that dream? Was it a dream? Fuck, he needs to write it down. He swings his arm up over his head, mindlessly grappling the sheet to find his phone where he left it plugged in last night only to realize it wasn’t there. Fuck. He wrestles his way out of the blanket and rolls onto his stomach to see where the phone could have gone only to find the cord holding it as it dangled over the edge of the bed. He needs to hurry before he forgets the dream, his fingers quickly swiping the pattern on the lock screen and opening his voice notes.

Snippet Two:

He’s back in the country, right? No reason why he couldn’t do what his mom always did to blow off bad feelings. He gets off the bed, grabbing the shorts he discarded earlier that night and sliding them back on before walking to the box of clothes he found while looking for his bedding and grabbing a pair of socks. He throws on his converse, knowing that he’s going to regret wearing them but he doesn’t have it in him to search through boxes for more substantial shoes right now. Stepping out into the brisk night air under the full moon is like stepping through into a different world. Kit can feel each and every step that pounds into the asphalt, but he keeps moving. Just a quick jog down the road to really work out all the anxiety from the dream, careful to stick to the center of the road instead of wondering too close to the woods that hold God knows what. This is what his mom would always do when she was feeling under the weather, whether from mental or physical illness. She always said that it would make her sweat out the bad and leave her with a clear mind, hopefully it does the same for him. Kit’s never been a runner, and he knows that he will not be able to run the full mile that Mom used to, turning back as soon as his knees started to ache just a bit too much for his comfort.

I also have a special art piece that I got in! (CW: sexual acts and full nudity)

TAGLIST

@lockejhaven @mr-writes @eleanordaze @flowerprose @starlitpage @dogmomwrites @annetilney @ceph-the-ghost-writer @inkspellangel @outpost51

Please fill out this form to be added or ask to be removed!

[covenofthearticulate]

In relation to your hectic day/week...

How would a Vampire Chronicles Highschool work? Give us your headcanons, oh wise one full of experience, angst and pain 🙌

OH GOD lmfao I mean listen this could go one of two ways...

if we're talking like...the vampires as actual high school teens then I imagine the cliques could be broke down into: Lestat and Armand, the two theatre kids who also bring drama into every situation off the stage (Lestat is cast as the lead in every school production meanwhile Armand is the iron-fisted AD on every show). They have absolutely fucked in the nasty green room backstage.

Louis is the definition of work hard, play hard. He's the kid in 5 AP classes who is insufferable in the classroom because he's smarter than everyone else and knows it, but you run into him occasionally at a house party and he's blackout drunk and everyone is...slightly concerned for his safety.

Daniel is also at said parties a lot— there's a rumor he deals drugs (weed, adderall, you name it) but he actually just likes to hang around parties because he's a weirdo and is endlessly fascinated listening to all the stories his drunk classmates tell him.

Then you've got Marius the Upper Classman who has been captain of debate club the last 4 years and got a full-ride scholarship to an Ivy League school. He is incapable of shutting up about his ex-girlfriend and has on numerous occasions gotten his classmates to pass his paper notes across the entire classroom to her.

OOORRRR...

Louis who teaches senior year Honors English for the serious nerds— his curriculum is somehow more intense than the state requirements and his grading his rigorous, but his class is still incredibly popular because his lectures are intriguing and the kids are so nosy because they're pretty sure he's dating the drama teacher. They make a game out of trying to figure out whether or not they're together— one kids SWEARS he saw them kissing in the teacher's lounge, but when a different kid had the courage to outright ask him, Louis claimed that "I hate that man." and no one could tell whether or not he was being sarcastic so it's still up for debate.

Armand is the cool art teacher who always has a bunch of kids in his room during lunch and after school. The art room is always open to anyone, and he is fiercely protective of it. One time the drama teacher asked to borrow some supplies to help decorate their set for the upcoming show and Armand straight up said "no" LMAO

(they still fuck in the nasty backstage green room though.)

And then you've got Marius the history teacher, obviously, who does that thing where he'll teach a lesson and try to make a reference to pop culture, but it never sticks, so then he ends up oversharing about his personal life as a weird roundabout way to connect to the lecture and it gets kinda weird but the kids still love him because he is still very prone to flattery so it's not too hard to pass his class.

And lastly, Daniel who teaches freshman English and also takes on the Yearbook class. He's nowhere near as tough of a grader as his colleagues— as long as the story has heart, he lets it pass. One student swears they saw him leaving the art room covered in paint and hickeys. When asked directly, Mr. Molloy got all flustered and blushy, but when Armand was asked he looked that kid dead in the eyes and gave him 5 seconds to sit back down in his seat and mind his business, or else he won't be so kind.

[atlasofthestaars]

another amazing chapter!! i would honestly love a movie marathon with them <3 and i love the focus on johnny this time, he's really just a guy with a good heart! bringing reader a blanket and a pillow :((( liu kang at the end there ....... hes so in love with the reader wtf ?!#$??!"? and bi han showing he cares in the most hostile way possible 😭😭😭 bxnsnsnd the only reason i dont want mileena as a love interest is bc i really wanted to see how you would explore her and tanyas dynamic :") kitana as a love interest tho..... thats wife 🤭 and ik this is getting long, but i have a couple questions; do you have an outline for the whole story prepared or is it being changed as you go? since you said adding shang tsung as a love interest would alter the story a bit? and (if it spoils anything, dont worry about answering!) how would you plan on ending it since reader's got a reverse harem going on? do you plan on giving reader an endgame with someone? again, sorry this got a bit long!

(p.s. can i be ☄️ anon? i plan on sticking around for the whole story hehe expect me after every chapter bcus ive subscribed to it on ao3 🫡)

Thank you so much! A movie marathon would be wonderful with the champion squad, but I can imagine how chaotic the emotional whiplash it could get if they all got to chose movies. Like imagine going from a lighthearted rom com to like??? A dark and gritty action movie LMAO I enjoyed writing for Johnny this time around, but I do worry I made him a bit (?) Out of character for his characrer progression, but I'm glad you enjoyed him nevertheless aha ^^ I did really like writing him as a dude who just means well, since he really just is that! Liu Kang is definitely feeling SOMETHING for the reader HAHA Mr. Fire God catching feels? Or is he just really nice 👀? Bi-Han struggles with showing he cares, but he really does. If only there was a therapist character to help him though HAHA Oh I definitely get why you'd want that! Mileena and Tanya's dynamic was interesting for me in this game, so I will have fun portraying that if she doesn't get voted in. If she does, uh, I'll definitely have to figure out what to do LMAOO I love Kitana 🙏 She's my fave female chara and my main in Mk1 !!

I don't mind it being ling at all, I love reading stuff like this and being able to interact with you all!! I don't know many people in my personal life who are willing to hear me obsess over Mortal Kombat like this HAHA

I do have a rough outline of the general story! As well as more defined plot points I like to hit within the arcs of the story. For example, I consider the part of the story we're in to be like the training/pre Outworld arc?? And I have certain moments with characters I want to hit before we move on with the plot! Of course, I am a very impulsive person so I leave it open and easy to change if needed. Events that happen later also tend to change to better fit the flow of the story, but I generally know the direction I want to head with everything.

I plan on giving every love interest an ending (think like endings in mortal kombat for each character!) So ideally I'd like to give each character their own unique ending/epilogue with the reader! People on AO3 also have requested a harem ending which I am open to making, but can't gaurentee due to characters like Shang Tsung. I mighttt make one without certain characters depending on how it all ends, one with everyone, or not one at all! I don't want to stress too much over that right now so that one is still up in the air whether I'll do it or not (especially since we've like, barely started ahaha)

And you can be ☄anon!! I'm happy to hear I have your support on this journey <3 and ty for supporting me there too! I love to see all the feedback from everyone, so I will happily await any comments you make! Thank you again for your kind words and support!

[msmargaretmurry]

Connor x Dylan “long time no see”

for some reason this title is giving short fic energy — well, short for me, so like, a tight 10–15k or whatever, lmao. a bittersweet little fic set in Our Current Tragic Era of mcstrome, over the course of a few days at an all-star game.

because where else is there to stick them together for several days in a row when they wouldn't do that voluntarily? obviously connor is going to be sent to every all-star game until he dies. until recently dylan was at a point of resignation trying to accept that he was never going to be great, but then he got a real shot in dc, and things have completely turned around. the asg's not somewhere warm and balmy, so ovi does the thing where he gets mysteriously lightly injured right before all-star weekend so he can take the family to a nice tropical island or wherever instead, so the league taps dylan as his replacement. dylan's been having a really good season, but he still wasn't expecting it. he's still in a daze about it when the jet touches down in toronto.

he knows some guys at the game, obviously, but it's still intimidating. he's twenty-six years old; he thought he was over being intimidated by big-name players, but all of them in one place? woof. it's a lot. but everyone's very nice and welcoming and it's just — it's really cool. it's really, really cool. dylan's parents are there, a bunch of local friends and family are there, and he is finally starting to not feel like a failure.

but also connor is there. dylan knew he would be. connor's parents are there. dylan figured they would be, but he hasn't seen them in so long, he kind of hopes he doesn't run into them. it would be kind of awkward, now that he and connor aren't close anymore. it's not like he and connor are totally estranged or anything. even recently, when their relationship has come up in interviews, dylan has said they're still friends, because there was never, like, a breakup or a falling out or a hard stop. they're just not close the way they used to be. they don't hang out; they rarely text. their careers put physical space between them and it turned into every other type of space, too. there was a while when dylan thought, perhaps uncharitably, that he wasn't worthy of connor's friendship anymore, when he was several years into his pro career and barely clinging to an nhl roster spot and connor was already winning trophies. maybe he hasn't quite shaken that feeling. but, hey. they're at the same all-star game now. dylan earned his stop here just like everyone else.

they run into each other early on, navigating the media day festivities. the capitals social person trailing dylan asks to snap a picture of them together and they dutifully pose and smile, and afterward connor claps him dylan on the arm and says, "hey, let's grab a drink at some point while we're here, eh?" while leaves dylan feeling so off-balance, because it's not something connor the teenager would have ever done.

anyway, all-star weekend stuff, blah blah blah, stuff happens, they don't really see each other again until the skills comp. they both do the accuracy shooting and neither of them win but dylan gets a better score by like .4 seconds and is quietly extremely proud of himself for it. he mostly hangs out with the other metro division guys on the ice but he's so aware of where connor is all the time that it's kind of painful. the only time he's been around connor for more than a few minutes in years has been while playing against him, and he forgot what it's like, just being near him.

the thing is, it's really weird, knowing there's someone out there in the world who knows every single thing about you from a certain period in your life, who you know everything about from that same period, but the current versions of yourselves are practically strangers. it makes dylan feel strangely vulnerable.

they do get that drink, but not on purpose — they just wind up at the same club. teenage connor could barely stand clubs, but adult connor seems comfortable enough. not at home, exactly, but he doesn't look like he wants to bolt. he's sticking close to draisaitl, like he has been the whole weekend, and dylan thinks, perhaps uncharitably, that maybe he's not so different now — he's just found someone else to attach himself to. but when they both go for refills at the same time, they start chatting, and it's a little awkward at first, but then it gets easier, and then suddenly they've been talking for like half an hour, and, yeah, maybe the alcohol is helping, but there's this feeling in dylan's chest that's like his insides are unravelling with relief that they can still have a conversation. they can chat about their families, their seasons so far, about funny moments from the skills comp today. they lean against the bar watching their colleagues making fools of themselves dancing and stuff, heads together, elbows bumping, and it's almost like it used to be, when wherever they went they would carve out a space for just the two of them.

"hey," connor says at one point, touching the knuckles of his drink hand to the knuckles of dylan's drink hand. "i'm glad you're here. you deserve it."

the thing is, connor was the first boy dylan ever kissed. dylan was the first person connor ever kissed, period. they never did more than that, but that doesn't mean dylan never thought about it or never wanted it. there were plenty of complicated reasons why things never went further, back then. but now he's thinking about how many firsts connor has to have had with so many people since they left erie that are none of dylan's business, and how connor keeps looking at dylan's mouth and his hands instead of meeting dylan's eyes. he has the exact same nervous tics as he did when he was seventeen.

"do you want to get out of here?" dylan asks.

so they go back to dylan's hotel room and have sex. it's kind of awkward and kind of surreal but mostly it's sweet and soft and good. dylan feels very grown up, deciding he can handle one night of this and never have it again. they doze a little bit afterward, but connor does go back to his own room instead of spending the night.

dylan spends the whole next day trying to figure out how he feels about it. does he regret it? he doesn't think so, but maybe it just hasn't hit him yet. it didn't feel like the start of something, but it didn't feel like the end of something either. connor doesn't text, but then again dylan doesn't text him, either. they're in separate locker rooms for the game that night; the metro advances but the pacific doesn't, and then the metro loses to the central for the all-star title, so it's not like either of them come away with bragging rights. but it's fine — it's fun. dylan has fun playing in the all-star game. on the flight home, he goes back on the capitals' twitter account and finds that picture from the other day of him and connor at media day and posts it to his insta story. connor likes the story. the end.

[b-ritney]

Piece of Your Action, Part 2

@mystargirl-interlude

Oh, I want you, I need you I want you to be mine tonight You need me, you bleed me Use you up, throw you away

You're fire, taking me higher Don't burn me, don't let me down You need me now, I'll teach you how Come on, let's go all the way!

lmao KEEP YOUR ARMS AND LEGS INSIDE THE RIDE AND BUCKLE YOUR MOTHER FLIPPING SEAT BELTS.

SMUT +18

Warnings: Choking, touch denial, light spanking, blow job, spit, oral , hair pulling, light degradation (nothing major), and sarcastic praise, (Bc Billy can't say SHIT genuinely.), size kink, vibrator, I'll work in aftercare... somehow.

Summary: After your altercation with Carol you take Billy up on his offer to show you, "a good time." Who knew he was just as insane as you are.

______________________________________________________________

“What was it you said about showing me a good time?”

Billy had nothing.. he was trying to distract you from the fact he was hard as a rock, by mirroring your devilish smile. Watching you beat the hell out of that bitch made him wanna take you in the middle of the hallway. Although he was honestly a little frightened .. you would feel the same way about him, that you do Carol, if you really knew who he was. Right?

“Hargrove?”

“Uh, yeah,” he adjusted himself making you laugh sarcastically, “I think I could treat you to an evening you won’t forget.”

“You have no shame do you?

“None”

“You think your slick huh? You aren’t any different than the other wanna be tough guy in this town. You just drive a better car.”

“You wanna test that theory?”

“Are you sure you can handle me?”

“Babe, you have no idea how many ways I could handle you.”

“Do you wanna test that theory?” You countered putting your hands on your hips.

“I like ‘um a little spunky, it’s more rewarding by the end when your so exhausted you can’t speak.” He leaned in closer to your ear.

“Brave of you to assume I'll make a sound in the first place, you don’t know what you're getting yourself into.”

“Care to show me what I’m missing?“

You scanned his body on more time, sizing him up. Walking around him to see every angle. “I’ll take you for a test drive, but don’t act like you're doing me a favor.”

Billy let out a menacing laugh dropping his head. “Where to then?”

“I don’t care, I won’t be sticking around either way I’ve got other plans.” You said dusting off your pants.

“You cut deep." He feigned offense. "My house then, my sister will be gone long enough, besides, when you finally break, the neighbors are gonna wish they were gone too."

You raised your eyebrows in slight shock, was this guy for real? "Lead the way then."

________________________________________________

"So tell me, why do you act the way you do?" Billy asked catching your eyes, aviators slid down his nose as you flew through the backroads to his house.

"Like you care."

"Normally I wouldn't but pretty girls like you don't go around creating chaos unless they've been hurt."

"No shame," you repeated again shaking your head and smiling. "I- I figure if you lay it all out on the table, you leave little room for speculation. It saves you time and heartache, if people know the real you, you don't have to work as hard to weed out the ones who don't deserve your time... because they won't even approach you to begin with."

"But you haven't always been this way."

"How would you know? Didn't you just move here this year?"

"I just know and yes I did."

"I know why you followed me out of class."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do, you don't think I know what people say about me?

"Did you really fuck a cop?

"No"

"oh"

"I blew him."

Billy whipped his head around, and you busted out laughing, "Enough with the romance Hargrove, we're both in this for the same thing."

"which is?"

"To see if you can back up your big talk."

_________________________________________________________

Billy opened the front door and let you in, locking it behind you; you didn't even have a chance to get your boots off before he had you pinned against the wall by your throat.

"No romance right?" he said cocking his head to the side.

"---right."

"Take off your jacket." he brought you forward hand still firmly wrapped around your neck, as you slid the jacket down your shoulders. "If you're so confident, I don't wanna hear a sound, understand?"

"No problem." You spat back in his face.

He released his grip and knelt in front of you yanking your pants down to your knees in one move. Your heart began to race, the look on his face was.. hungry. He dove in with no warning, sucking harshly on your clit as you fought against the universe to stay strong. He spread your legs wider holding onto the back of your thighs, he lapped at your pussy like a dehydrated hound. You kept your mouth shut despite the scream just waiting to explode from your throat. He nuzzled his head farther into your mound forcing his tongue past your fluttering entrance. You. grabbed a fist full of his hair as your legs began to shake. Just when you were about to cum he stopped. The pulsing of your cunt and your flushed complexion were the only signs you gave him, "tired already?" you teased, trying to remain equal.

"Cumming already?" he challenged, leaving you speechless for the first time that night. He grabbed your arm and whipped you into the kitchen table lifting you to sit on the edge, and pushing you to lay back on the hard surface. He swiftly took your boots and pants the rest of the way off leaving you in nothing but your white socks, grey tank top, and accessories. "No bra? You little minx." You opened your mouth to say something but he cut in again, "Save your breath doll, you're gonna need it." He slapped your pussy making you fall back against the table. He rubbed it up and down a few times before pushing in his middle and pointer finger, you arched your back of the table as he watched you writhe around beneath him. He's slept with some pretty hard women but not even the toughest ones managed to hold out this long, you're successfully challenging his abilities, and it's aggravating him beyond belief. He pumps them faster and faster adding another finger and rubbing your clit with his thumb, Billy was breathing heavier than you, he was pissed now, leaning down to suck on your clit again, desperate to hear you take even a sharp breath. He continued his brutal pace with his fingers, violently shaking his tongue against you, laughing maniacally as you twisted beneath him running from the overwhelming sensation, but still not making a sound.

"Impressive," he said, his lips and chin glistening with your juices as he admired your fucked out face and dripping pussy.

Your mind was reeling, you had to regain control, you sat upright grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him just shy of meeting your lips, this was your leverage, "I'll work half as hard and you'll be calling my name." he leaned in closer like he was going to kiss you, "No romance right? he looked shocked, you used his moment of vulnerability to shove him down into the chair behind him. He caught his breath and watched as you pried his tight jeans from his legs, hastily removing his boxers. He was like nothing you'd ever seen, absolutely fucking massive. You had to move quickly before he could tease you for staring. Spitting on your hand you viciously pumped it up and down his thick shaft, he covered his face with his hand as his head fell back. Men are so easy, you kitten licked from the base to the tip taking him in your mouth as far as you could go. Just to come all the way up and force yourself back down to take all of him until you gagged. Billy's hips bucked into you, he couldn't even think well enough to hold your hair, he was conceding and you'd barely done anything yet. You dragged your nails down his thighs as you bobbed your head in a steady rhythm Billy tried with everything he had to keep the pleasure inside but he couldn't he erupted with noises so obscene it made your legs tighten together. He was so close but you pulled back getting to your feet, laughing above him victoriously. "I win." you giggled.

"Games not over yet babe."

"Just accept you've met your match."

He pulled you into his lap pushing you down onto his throbbing cock, giving you no time to adjust to his size, you let out a sinful moan as you wrapped tightly around him, wanting so bad in that moment to lace your fingers in his hair and kiss him... but no romance... and you weren't about to lose the rest of your advantage. He laughed beneath you, "see we're even."

You couldn't answer it just hurt so good, you sunk your teeth into his shoulder as tears rolled down your face. He began to fuck up into you but you wouldn't allow him to set the pace, both of you fighting for dominance like fucking lions, moving your hips in sync with his, making you cry out, throwing your head back, you started to bounce on your own, he took the opportunity to lift your tank top above your chest and take your nipples between his teeth and fingers, licking and nibbling each one raw. "Fuck!" you whined your head lulling forward into his shoulder.

He picked you up in his arms his cock still buried deep inside you and carried you to his bed laying you on your back fucking you as fast and deep as he could, taking one of your hands into his and pressing it into your lower stomach and the other for stability next to your head. The sensation in your belly was deliciously wicked, you could feel the presence of his cock moving ferociously inside of you in and out until you sobbed. He pulled a vibrator from under his mattress and clicked the buttons until it was at its highest setting, spitting on it, and pressing it firmly into your clit. This must have been what he meant when he said your neighbors would wish they were gone. you quite literally screamed in rapture. He kept his pace as he wrapped your shaky hands around the handle, "Your gonna hold that there until you come." You couldn't speak, yet your mouth was wide open, you could barely hold your head up let alone hold a toy. "I-I can't" you said whispered.

"You can and you will."

"I-I ahh BILLY!" He somehow drove deeper into you lifting your legs to his hips, your muscles contracting so tightly you crunched forward, "Come on, come on my cock." He said through gritted teeth. You dropped the toy as your metaphysical being flew from your fucking body, you shook uncontrollably, he quickly snatched up the toy and held it against your clit whispering praises into your ear as the aftershocks ripped through you like lightning. He pulled out cumming on your stomach in warm spurts that made you feel so exquisitely dirty. He dropped to his knees and kissed and sucked on your pussy until you begged him to stop, cleaning up the mess you both made.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked

"Please." you whimpered, he kissed you deeply making up for all the things he said before, brushing your hair from your sweaty face. Then in true arrogant, fashion, he ran his fingers through his release making you suck it from his fingers. He walked away for only a few minutes to get you a towel and something to drink but when he came back you were gone, he walked into the kitchen and there you were with your clothes back on fixing your hair like you didn't just get freshly RAILED. He dropped the towel, "You can't be serious?" he said dumbfounded. " I told you babe, I have other plans, better luck next time though, you were decent in the sack, maybe next time you can make me come without mechanical help." You smiled and waved sarcastically before unlocking the door and turning the handle, walking out towards the headlights and blasting speakers waiting for you in the driveway.

"Damn, she's fucking crazy...I love her."

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

I prob won't write for a few days bc I'm going on a short vaca for fall break, and I have a journalistic essay to write, but i'll be back enjoy!

[liahswriting]

Call Sign: Sweetheart: Part 2

Relationship(s): Lt. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace/Original Female Character

Words: 16,398 (I am so sorry)

Warnings: None

Summary: Due to popular demand (really, I only needed 1 person to ask for this lmao) here is a part 2 to Call Sign: Sweetheart. Sorry it's so long. I had trouble trying to come up with a plot and connecting it to the previous fic. I didn't intent to make a part two so I had a lot of filler. Anyway, enjoy.

Phoenix had set her alarm on her phone the night before. She needed to be up early so she could head back to her hotel, get herself cleaned up, straighten out her uniform, and make it to base on time. It was day one of whatever TOPGUN had in store for her. Plus she had to walk back to her hotel. So it was imperative she woke up early enough to give herself the time she needed to get presentable. But she was also considerate of her bed mate beside her. She set her alarm for the early hours, but kept the volume down low enough to not disturb Sweetheart.

But when the alarm went off, despite its soft tone chiming in her ear, Phoenix woke to see Sweetheart up and at 'em as well. Sweetheart rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned wide while she scratched her tangled hair, seemingly forgetting for a moment that she wasn't alone in bed. Once Phoenix squirmed into an upright position, it was when Sweetheart realized her presence.

"Morning." Sweetheart smiled.

"Morning. Did I wake you? I tried to keep the volume down." she said apologetically.

"You can pull the girl out of the Navy, but the training sticks with you. I haven't slept through an alarm since I was fifteen."

"I figured you would've adjusted back to civvy life over the last two years." commented Phoenix.

"I wish." laughed Sweetheart. "Do you know how much easier my life would be if I could go a single day without connecting anything to the Navy? And being able to sleep consistently for more than three hours?"

"But that's what makes life fun!" the other woman taunted. They shared a smile with each other, watching as the life in each other's eyes take over their color. Sweetheart loved Phoenix's eyes.

"You getting ready to head out?" Sweetheart suddenly broke the moment. Phoenix realized her mission and sprung into action, grabbing her forgotten uniform and putting it on.

"I have to walk back to my hotel and finish getting ready. I might do a dry bath if I can."

"I'll drive you back. That'll give you some more time to get ready." she said, jumping from the bed and grabbing her shoes.

"You don't have to-" Phoenix went to go dismiss the woman. Her timeliness wasn't Sweetheart's problem to deal with. Phoenix knew she'd be in this predicament when she agreed to stay the night.

"I wouldn't be happy knowing I was the reason you missed your report time. I had you for the night, I can say goodbye for the day."

"Seriously, you don't have to-"

"Shut up." Sweetheart smirked and then placed a gentle kiss on her cheek to keep her quiet. "No room for arguing. Come on. If we leave now, you can take an actual shower."

Phoenix just huffed out a laugh. Sweetheart didn't take no for an answer. Neither did Phoenix, honestly, but Sweetheart always won the fight. So she stopped trying to deny the offer of a ride, and laced up her boots. Once Sweetheart had her shoes on, she grabbed a jacket to cover herself up, and then both women left the hotel, got in her car, and drove off to Phoenix's hotel.

"Let me know what's going on, yeah? If you guys need anything, I'm happy to make a food run." Sweetheart tossed out through the window as Phoenix exited the car.

"I have a feeling we're gonna need it." laughed Phoenix.

"I got a new phone, but Rooster has my number. Just shoot me a text."

"Will do." and Phoenix turned to walk off.

"Tasha!"

"Yeah?" she turned around and quirked and eyebrow.

"It was good seeing you again." Phoenix's eyebrow dropped and a genuine smile replaced it.

"You too. I'll talk to you later."

And then she disappeared into her hotel. Sweetheart sat behind the steering wheel for a moment, letting everything from the past 24 hours sink in. It hit her all at once, that it happened. It was real. And then she squealed and did a happy dance in her seat like she was in high school and just got asked to the prom.

"Holy shit." she murmured to herself. "Okay, get yourself together."

She should go out and buy something pretty to wear. And take Tasha out on a date. Yeah. She put her car in drive and almost sped her way back to her hotel so she could put on some real clothes. Clothes that wouldn't make people grimace at her and dare to ask her why on Earth she decided to go out in public in them.

She dolled up a little bit: dressed in some decent clothes, ran a brush through her hair, brushed her teeth. And then she headed out again. It was early. Not many places would be open at this hour. If the sun wasn't up, neither were people. But there was always a boutique open somewhere in California. Heavy tourism practically demanded it. And she was determined to find it. A simple Google search told her what stores were open and where they were located. There weren't many, but it was a start.

Today was a day for pampering. She deserved it after everything she's been through. And now she has Tasha back in her life. Who, by the way, hasn't sent a single message yet. Sweetheart kept looking at her phone as she shopped around, hoping either she or Rooster would pop in with an update.

"It's only been an hour. Calm down." she told herself and then stuffed her phone back in her pocket.

She rummaged through another rack of clothes. Nothing popped out at her. She wanted something nice that Phoenix would like. Phoenix once made a comment about a shirt Sweetheart had -a dark navy blue shirt that Sweetheart had dubbed her 'I don't have anything to wear' shirt. Phoenix said she looked good in it. Sweetheart hadn't ever taken a second look at her shirt until then. After that, it was her favorite shirt to wear and would find as many opportunities to wear it as possible. Until it got bleach on it. It was a sad farewell.

Sweetheart felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Excitedly, she pulled it out. Her smile fell when the notification ended up being the daily weather forecast. Sunny. Gee, who would've taken a guess at that. She put her phone away again...... After looking at it one more time in hopes Phoenix or Rooster would say something.

Sweetheart spent a few hours shopping around. She managed to find something nice to wear. Even bought a pair of shoes to go with it since she only brought her sneakers and her sandals. After that, she grabbed a quick brunch and a drink. All the while still staring at her damn phone. Seriously? Not a single text from either of them?! Her mom sent her a text though asking for a check-in. Making sure she's still alive and whatnot.

After brunch, she decided to walk along the pier. Anything to keep her mind off of the fact that TASHA ISN'T TEXTING! LIKE SHE SAID SHE WOULD!

It was warm outside. Not hot, just warm. It felt nice. Reminds Sweetheart of the time she and Phoenix went to the beach when they had an off day from work. Off days were few and far between, so they made sure to do anything and everything they could cram into those 24 hours. Sweetheart remembers one time when she got attacked by an entire grouping of seagulls because they saw she had a pretzel. Instead of helping, Phoenix was laughing her ass off and video taping it. And then Sweetheart tripped in the sand the seagulls covered over her fallen body as they attacked the pretzel that had been tossed from her hand.

"You should've just let it go." Phoenix hardly got the words out because she was laughing too damn hard.

"I paid ten-fucking-dollars for it! I wasn't gonna waste it!"

Sweetheart laughed as she thought back on it. She didn't laugh then, but now it was hilarious. She wonders if Phoenix still has that video?

There were a lot of memories here from when they were first at TOPGUN all those years ago. Like here on the pier, where they watched the sun set and then kissed like they were in a movie. And over there by the shops where Phoenix almost accidentally stole something because it got caught on her foot as she was walking out and the staff practically chased her down for it. And there by the ice cream parlor where they had their first official date. They had been together for months on base before they could actually go out and do something. At the time they were in a rush and could only spare a few moments. So they grabbed ice cream here, got some drinks at the Hard Deck, then went back to base. It wasn't much, but it was the beginning of something good.

Soon enough, the day had come and gone, the sun was setting, and Sweetheart was ready to head back to her hotel. Still no sign from Phoenix or Rooster. She had half a mind to send a text out just to make sure they were all good. She was sure they were just held up with training, or whatever it is they're doing. At this point, she probably wouldn't hear from either one of them until tomorrow after they had gotten some sleep. So she just ordered a late dinner, put her phone on the charger, and decided to shower while she waited for her food to arrive.

The hot water felt nice. The type of nice after a long day when you're just so worn out. Where you've spent hours upon hours just working yourself to death. Sweetheart remembers one time during training when she was just pushed well past her limits. It had several days of testing her mental capabilities in the air, as well as working her physical body to peak perfection. She had been ready to collapse, but held out because Rooster was going to throw Phoenix a birthday party at his place, and Sweetheart wanted to be there.

The party started off fine. There were some drinks, lots of music, games, and whatnot. Tasha was living it up, as she should seeing that she was the birthday girl. When presents started passing around, Sweetheart just felt something inside her shut down. She got dizzy and the room started to spin. The last thing she remembered was Tasha and Rooster rushing to her side, and then it just went black. When she woke up, she found herself in Rooster's bed with a worried Tasha wiping at her forehead with a wet cloth.

"You had me so worried!" she practically screeched, throwing her arms around Sweetheart in a tight hug.

"I guess I was just overworked. It's been a long week, Tasha. I'm sorry I ruined your birthday."

After getting some cold fluids in her from an equally worried Rooster, Sweetheart was then taken to the bathroom with promises of relaxation. Tasha had filled the tub with warm water and some of Rooster's bath soap. She then stripped the both of them of their clothes and they stepped into the steaming water. Tasha sat behind Sweetheart, keeping her arms around the tired frame of her girlfriend. She peppered kisses to her clammy shoulder and all Sweetheart could do was melt against her touch. They stayed like that for what felt like forever. But it was Sweetheart's favorite place to be.

Sweetheart heard her phone beep from the other room, pulling her out of her memory and excitedly peeking her head behind the shower curtain. It was either Phoenix or Rooster, or her food. And while she hoped it was the first option, she wouldn't be upset if her food was almost here.

She quickly scrubbed the last of the conditioner out of her hair, rinsed off the last of the body wash, turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around her as she entered the bedroom. She grabbed her phone to see a new text message from an unknown phone number. All it said was her name followed by a question mark. It was Tasha!

"Hey, how was first day of TOPGUN?" she replied back. A second later, a new text message came through.

"A lot has happened. Free to talk?"

"Yeah, just one second. Just got out of the shower."

"Without me? :)"

Sweetheart had to contain herself from squealing again. But a blush was heavy on her cheeks. She could feel it. Quickly she got dressed in some pajamas and then dialed Phoenix's number.

"Took you long enough." Phoenix joked.

"Sorry. Been lost in thought for awhile."

"Thinking about?"

"You." Sweetheart gave the one-worded answer easily. She heard the other woman hitch her breath through the phone.

"And? Care to share with the class what's got you all distracted?" Phoenix urged with a teasing lust.

"Hmm. We'll save that conversation for another day. As much as I love phone sex, I'm really interested in what happened today." she said and Phoenix huffed.

"Where do I begin?" she asked rhetorically. "Hangman was being his usual asshole self, for starters."

"I don't even want to imagine how arrogant he was."

"He gets one air-to-air kill and makes it his entire personality, and then thinks that will single-handedly make him qualified for this mission."

"Mission? You guys got called back for a mission?" Sweetheart interrupted, a worried glower in her eyes as she stared at nothing.

"Yeah. Not really sure how much I'm allowed to share, but basically we've all been asked back to take down an enemy plant. And Hangman seems to think he's the only one qualified for the job. Him and Rooster kept butting heads during BFM training. Which, ultimately, cost me."

"Whatdyu mean? Hangman didn't kill your chances, did he?"

"No. Not yet, at least. But my arms are still sore from having to do 200 pushups thanks to Payback's stupid gamble."

"Why the fuck would Payback gamble out 200 pushups?!" Sweetheart asked in surprise. That was stupid, even for him. "I hope he had to join you in that punishment."

"Oh he did, don't you worry. Although it's making me wish you were here, ya know. With you as my partner, we've never lost."

"I wasn't sure with myself if I could stomach being back here." she admitted solemnly. This wasn't the time to get into the topic, but something had to be said. "I wasn't positive that I could handle the memories of what happened. Or having to face you on the off chance you wouldn't forgive me. I figured this was the safest course of action for me."

"Listen, I'm not blaming you for your decision. I get it. And I want you to do what's best for yourself. But that doesn't stop me from missing you behind me."

"Funny, usually you're behind me. Quite honestly, I prefer it that way." Sweetheart changed the conversation to something more light-hearted. And the innuendo was not lost on Phoenix. The brunette practically snorted with laughter.

"Well, keep sweet-talking me like that and we'll see what happens."

"Is that a promise, Lieutenant?"

"Oh it absolutely is."

"What's the time-frame for the mission? Is there any room for me to wiggle in at some point?"

"The entire thing is gonna be a few weeks. And based on what the Captain outlined, it's gonna be pretty loaded and hard-hitting until we set out for the actual mission." explained Phoenix.

"Damn." Sweetheart huffed. "You'll have to keep me updated."

"I will." Phoenix promised. "Oh! And speaking of the Captain, does the name Captain Pete Mitchell ring a bell at all? Call sign: Maverick?"

The question threw Sweetheart for a loop. What that had to do with anything, she wasn't sure. But she thought on it anyway. It took her a minute to rack through her brain for the name. It rang a bell. A small, quiet bell. But a bell nonetheless.

"Uh. Yeah. Kind of. He's another TOPGUN graduate, right? Supposed to be one of the best in the entire Navy. Why?"

"Rooster's got beef with him. Serious beef. And it manifested in training today -almost cost him his life. I tried to talk to him about it, but Rooster shut me out. I was wondering if you knew anything. He's got me worried."

Hearing the confession made her choke on air. Rooster was her friend, and just the thought of him being so careless like that and almost dying had her worried beyond belief. Rooster was not one to be so reckless. Hell, that's how he got the call sign Rooster. He waits. He's calculated. He's safe. What's going on?

"I haven't talked to Rooster, like actually talked, in at least a year. Maybe more." Sweetheart admitted. "But, even still, he never brought up the name Maverick before."

"It was worth a shot...." Phoenix trailed off. "Maybe you can talk to him. See what's going on. Because not only is he putting his life in danger, he's putting the rest of ours as well. If he gets kicked off this mission, we're left with Bagman. And, at that point, we might as well just say game over for us all."

"I'll talk to him. You're right; if Hangman is in charge, no one is gonna be coming home."

Sweetheart and Phoenix chatted for a bit more. Sweetheart's dinner arrive shortly and Phoenix had bid her a goodnight so she could eat in peace. Plus Phoenix had to be up early again tomorrow and she needed the sleep after the day she had today.

The following day panned out similar to the previous day. Sweetheart spent most of her time alone, just aimlessly walking about as she tried to pass the time until she could call Rooster and talk to him. She worried for her friend. Rooster had always been there for her, even when she shut him out, so the least she could do was lend an ear to him.

Her phone was silent all day as both Phoenix and Rooster were occupied with their training. It had to be brutal. She wondered just what they were up to. She remembered her time at TOPGUN -it wasn't fun at first. You were put through the ringer and tested on not only the things you knew but also the things you didn't know. But it wasn't all bad. There were good times at TOPGUN. The friends you make, the gratifying feeling of accomplishing something, and plus you get to fly fighter jets. Like, who wouldn't want to do that?!

Being in the backseat was a great feeling. Having Phoenix be her wingman in the sky was what made everything fun and worth it. Sweetheart missed it, and she somewhat started to question her decision to turn down the call. No one would ever be able to fly a plan smoother than Phoenix. No one would ever make Sweetheart feel as safe in a flying weapon as Phoenix did. They were a team. And she felt like she let her teammate down. Who did Phoenix even get paired up with? She didn't ask.

After dinner, Sweetheart spent a few hours at The Hard Deck just talking with Penny to keep herself occupied. Penny was a sweet woman and coming back here felt like coming back home. Penny asked her how she was doing, what she was up to, and all that good stuff. They talked as the older woman handed out drinks. Sweetheart suddenly had a thought, and decided to try her luck with it.

"What can you tell me about Pete Mitchell?" Sweetheart asked, taking a sip of her rum and coke.

"Maverick? What about him?" questioned the woman.

"Just wondering. I'm told him and Rooster aren't getting along."

"Oh. That." Penny said, sparking Sweetheart's interest. She leaned against the bar top trying to get closer for the details. "Listen, it's not really my place to talk about it. Have you talked to Rooster?"

Sweetheart sat back, dejected at not having any gossip to invest in. She took another sip of her drink.

"Waiting for him to be dismissed. Phoenix told me she tried to get something out of him, but he kept quiet. It's got me worried."

"Rooster is a grown man. You can't make him talk if he doesn't want to. But at least he's got a friend like you to go to if he does want to talk."

"Well, I owe him that much. I'm gonna go try him, see if he's done for the day."

She left her half finished drink on the bar and walked outside where it was quieter. She pulled out her phone and dialed Rooster's number. As expected, the call got forwarded to his voicemail. She left the standard message: hey, it's me, just calling to check in on ya. Call me back. Ya know, that spiel. But less than 60 seconds later, he called her right back.

"Rooster?"

"Hey, what's up."

"Nothing. Just calling to get my daily report." she chuckled lightly. "I got the basic run down from Tasha yesterday. Anything new today?"

"Not really. It's tough out here but we're all managing." Rooster replied easily, yet the tone of his voice was curt.

"Yeah? Even with Hangman on your ass?"

"He's not helping, but it could be worse."

"Hey, can I ask you a personal question?" Sweetheart gingerly steered the topic.

"Uh, sure?"

"Can I ask you what your history is with Maverick?" she asked him, and Rooster was silent for several seconds. Sweetheart could just see the veins in his neck twitching as he clenched his jaw.

"And what do you know about Maverick?" he clipped.

"Just asking. Phoenix told me you scared her yesterday with some dangerous stunt you pulled. That's not like you, and it's got me worried."

"It's none of your business!"

"Come on, Bradshaw. You've always been there for me. Let me be there for you." she begged of him. "Tell me what's going on."

"Maverick is the reason my dad is dead....." she heard him spit through the phone. "And then he had the audacity to pull my papers from the Naval Academy and set my career back four fucking years!"

Sweetheart stood silent. The conversation went quiet. The only sounds she could hear were from the bar behind her and from Rooster trying to calm himself with some breathing. Her mouth ran dry as she tried to think of something to say to that. What does she say?

"I'm so sorry, Rooster."

"Listen, I don't wanna fucking get into this right now. I'm tired, okay?"

"Rooster, you gotta promise me you'll keep a level head through this." she pleaded with him. "Whatever's between you and Maverick, it's not worth dying over. It's not worth putting the rest of the team at risk. I care about you and I want you to come home from whatever mission you're on, okay? And afterwards we'll hang out together. You and me. Like old times."

"Yeah, whatever." he tried to play it off. But it wasn't a promise.

"Promise me, Bradley Bradshaw!"

"Okay! I promise."

"Good."

"Listen, I gotta go."

"Call me if you need anything. I'm just twenty minutes away."

And then the call died. And Sweetheart was left standing in the sand, staring at her phone, looking like an idiot that got stood up on a date. She worried about him.

Many days passed and Rooster hadn't called her again. Phoenix did though, and she offered any updates that she could when asked about it. But the updates were very few considering the only thing the team is focused on is mastering their aircrafts. Rooster seemed to calm down over the days based on Phoenix's lack of reporting on out-of-character actions from him. At least that was a good sign.

"So when can I take you out?" she asked the brunette during another one of their phone calls. Sweetheart laid on her hotel bed on her stomach, phone pressed to her ear, and kicking her feet in the air like a teenager.

"How about now?" Phoenix surprised her with her answer.

"Now?"

"Grab a bathing suit. We're going to the beach!"

"What? Beach? You're actually serious."

"Listen, I'm not gonna question it. We've got a free day, and I intend on taking it. So get your cute butt in a bathing suit and get to the beach! Or else I'll drag you from your hotel room myself."

"Actually, I kinda like that sound of that. You gonna bring some rope?" teased Sweetheart. She wiggled her eyebrows as if Phoenix was in front of her. Even thought Phoenix couldn't see it, she sensed it.

"I'll wipe that look off your face. If you follow orders and come to the beach, I'll bring some rope."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now come on. We're all heading out soon."

Sweetheart excitedly threw herself off the bed and rummaged through her bag for her bathing suit. She knew packing it was a good idea, and now she had the chance to wear it. And it was a cute one too. She got it right before she came to San Diego, hoping to impress Phoenix if their reunion yielded a positive result -which it did.

She tossed on a loose shirt over top of it, put on her sandals, grabbed a towel, and packed a small carry-on of essentials, and then headed to the beach. The ocean wasn't far from her hotel. A bit of a walk, yes, but given the heavy tourism traffic it was much more efficient to walk than to drive.

Today couldn't have been a better day for the beach. The sun was high in the sky, it was hot out, it was just perfect for the water. Sweetheart found a somewhat empty patch of sand and laid out her towel. She waited for Phoenix to text her telling her when they arrived. In the meantime, she covered herself in some sunscreen, flipped down her aviators, and lounged back to bask in the sun's rays. She hoped Tasha would like her bathing suit. What would Tasha be wearing? She's seen the brunette in nothing but a bra and panties before -if you don't count completely naked- and she is a sight to behold. Everything about her was just perfect...... Oh those were some dangerous thoughts to be having in public. Sweetheart looked around as if she could catch if people could read her mind.

Impatiently, Sweetheart watched the clock on her phone tick the minutes. Just waiting for a text, a call, something. And then.....

"We're here. You?"

"Kept me waiting long enough <3 Where are you?"

"We came in through the entrance by the hotel."

"I'll come find you."

Sweetheart quickly grabbed her stuff and practically ran down the beach towards them. She pushed through crowds of people, all of them watching her with irritated expressions as she pretty much gave no second thought to the people she pushed aside. But to hell with it. She didn't care. All she could think about was Tasha.... And maybe Rooster.... But mostly Tasha.

It was easy picking out the group of pilots on the beach. They were the only group where everyone was wearing aviators and had the physique of a military man (or woman). None of them spotted her approaching them, so she took the opportunity to do something cute. Carefully, she set her stuff down just a little ways away from theirs and snuck up behind Tasha, throwing her arms around the woman and yelling 'boo' in her ear. Tasha jumped and quickly whirled around, ready to punch whoever invaded her personal space. But she relaxed when she saw Sweetheart.

"Hey! You made it!" the pilot hugged her tightly.

"Was I not supposed to?" Sweetheart cheekily replied, which prompted a flick on her forehead.

"Hey there, Sweetheart!" Rooster greeted much happier than he did on the phone call. He came and gave her a hug, which caused the others to come give her a hug too. Fanboy hugged her so tightly and picked her up off the sand, making her squeal a bit.

"Didn't realize you were still here, Sweetheart!" he happily cheered.

"Can't get rid of me that easily, Garcia."

"Come on, girl. You gotta stop with the last name." he waved her off.

"Technically not Navy anymore." she reminded him.

"That means nothing. You'll always be one of us!"

"Yeah, Sweetheart. Once a pilot, always a pilot." Payback chimed in.

"Come on, enough talk. Let's play." said Coyote, holding up a football in his hand.

"Later, I'm stealing this cutie for a little bit." Phoenix said, giving a shoulder bump to Sweetheart as she spoke, making said woman conceal a grin. This garnered attention towards her, and she could hear Rooster whistle playfully.

Phoenix took her hand, intertwining their fingers, and pulled her down the shore away from everyone. But Sweetheart could feel eyes on them as they walked away. Everyone was watching them lean against each other and act all lovey dovey. But she didn't care. All she cared about was the woman beside her.

"I didn't realize so many people had been called back." Sweetheart randomly spoke. "Who are the others?"

"Well you already know most of them. The others you've probably heard of. Like Logan 'Yale' Lee and his WSO Brigham 'Harvard' Lennox are part of the Red Rippers. And Callie 'Halo' Bassett is part of the Redcocks." she said, pointing to each person she spoke of. "She's Neil 'Omaha' Vikander's WSO who is part of the Nighthawks."

"And that guy?" Sweetheart asked, pointing to the guy who refused to take his shirt off for whatever reason.

"Robert 'Bob' Floyd. He's my WSO. Comes from Lemoore. He's part of the Screaming Eagles."

"WSO huh? How does he hold up?" Sweetheart wiggled her eyebrow teasingly.

"He's not you, that's for sure." she replied. "But he stands alright. A bit awkward but nice."

"Well not everyone is brave enough to handle you."

"You've never complained before." Phoenix teased back, throwing her arm over Sweetheart's shoulders and pulling her into her side. She pressed a kiss to Sweetheart's cheek.

"I'm not complaining now. Although you did promise to bring some rope." she reminded.

"Later." Phoenix teased. "Right now, I just want to enjoy spending some time with you. It's been so long since it was just the two of us."

"It's not really just the two of us considering we've got those guys watching our every move." she pointed to the gaggle of pilots that seemed to be miles away. They were immersed into their game of football, tackling each other into the sand and cheering each other on. It didn't appear that anyone was on any sort of 'team'.

"Hangman's just upset you won't suck his dick." laughed the brunette. "Rooster just misses you. And the others? Well you let's just say Fanboy had a bet going seeing how long it takes us before we get back together."

"Have you given any thought of us getting back together?"

"I've thought about it a lot." she admitted.

"And?"

"And..... I want to. It's just, I feel really guilty for the things I've said to you. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for treating you like dog shit when you were suffering really bad."

"I don't hate you for it." soothed Sweetheart. "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the fact that we had to come to this."

"You could've come to me. I would've done whatever I could to help you."

"I know that. I was just afraid. But not anymore. I'm tired of hiding, and letting this ruin my life. I miss being with you in a fighter jet, traveling the world, taking down the bad guys."

"It's not too late. It could still be you and me." Phoenix turned to her, cupping her face in her hands and stroking her cheeks. "We're a team. We've always been a team. I can't remember a time where it wasn't you in the jet behind me. I don't trust anyone else at my six."

"I already got my discharge. I've been dismissed. It's done."

"But you were called back. That's gotta count for something! Maybe we can get you your RE code, and you can come back. TOPGUN wanted you back, maybe you can reenlist through that and bypass all that paperwork bullshit."

"It's been too long, Tasha." Sweetheart said solemnly. "I'm way too rusty to be in the sky again."

"So you'll have to spend a few weeks back in basics again. So what? It's not the end of the world."

"I don't know, Tasha."

"Please? It's not the same without you."

The two women stood at the edge of the water, staring into each other's eyes as if the rest of the world didn't exist. And, to Sweetheart, it didn't. All she saw was Natasha Trace, the woman she's loved for years. The woman she wanted to marry one day. And the way Phoenix was stroking her cheeks with her thumbs was a comfort that brought back memories of the times she used to caress her face as they lay in bed together, basking in the afterglow of sex, when the endorphins were high and they were drunk on love. Life was boring without Natasha Trace. The transition back to civilian life was an adjustment that Sweetheart never got used to. She missed the Navy. She missed being a pilot. And she was angry that her life was stolen from her by a man who got his kicks abusing his power.

"I'll have to think about it. At the very least, it's too late to come back to TOPGUN. The mission is already underway and you have a new WSO. I won't have a place to fit in."

"After this mission, you and I are gonna spend some time together. And then maybe the Captain will let you do some training to get your wings all polished."

"If he even cares. Speaking of, how's Rooster holding out with Maverick?"

"Rooster's still closing himself off. He's not getting along with the Captain, but at least he hasn't almost killed himself again."

"Well that's good at least."

"Did he tell you what's going on?"

"Yeah, but I don't know if it's my place to share it. It runs deep, Tasha. And, quite frankly, I'm on Rooster's side. If what he says is true, I think his anger is justified. I worry where his head is at, but I don't think he's in the wrong here."

"As long as he doesn't ruin his chances for being on this mission. If I end up with Hangman, I might just drop out of this mission altogether." Phoenix sighed heavily.

"Enough talk about this. Now's not the time to be upset about work. Let's have some fun." Sweetheart attempted to cheer the woman up.

"We could go play football with the guys. Let's go beat their asses. Some of them deserve it."

"I'm always down to beat the shit outta Hangman." she said and both women laughed.

They intertwined their fingers again and turned around to walk back to the group. When they approached, Rooster and Fritz were celebrating triumphantly over something. Rooster flexed his muscles to show off the definition, getting into a muscle show-off with Hangman. But it seemed to be all in good fun as both men laughed and playfully pushed at each other.

"Hey boys." greeted Sweetheart. "Got room?"

"Hey hey, Sweetheart! Come on, girl. You and me!" hollered Fanboy.

"Nah, she's with me. Get your own partner." Phoenix defended.

"Come on, Nat. Don't be like that. We can share!"

"Phoenix? Share? Ha!" Rooster roared out a laugh, stabilizing himself on his knees.

"Phoenix doesn't share, but Sweetheart loves sharing. Ain't that right, darlin?" winked Hangman. Sweetheart wanted to throw up in her mouth. Phoenix was in offense mode, ready to defend her, but she held the brunette back.

"Come on, Hangman. I'll kick your ass no problem. Pick your team and let's fight."

"Ohhoooo, Sweetheart. I'll take that bet. Alright, pretty girl. I'll go easy on you. You can have Rooster and whoever else you pick. You can even pick first."

"Careful, Bagman. I don't think your reputation could sink any further by losing than it already has."

"Then put your money where your mouth is, honey. Make your bet."

"I'm not sucking your dick."

"Come on, guys. Stop fighting and let's play." Fanboy begged with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, we're here to have fun. It's not that big 'a deal." Fritz followed behind Fanboy, also annoyed at the fight that was brewing.

Both Hangman and Sweetheart dropped the argument for now, but both of them knew it wasn't over. However, Fanboy and Fritz were right. Today was a fun day, and they were all determined to kick back and relax. Everyone split into two teams: Sweetheart, Phoenix, Rooster, Halo, Fanboy, and Bob on one team. Hangman, Coyote, Fritz, Yale, Harvard, and Payback on another. The game was simple -first team to break through the other's defense three times, or whoever got three tackles first would be the winner.

The first round started off with Rooster holding the football, eventually passing it off to Fanboy when he started getting boxed in by Hangman, Fritz, and Yale. Fanboy ended up getting tackled by Harvard and Coyote. The second round had Coyote taking the ball, passing it off to Payback, who passed it off to Harvard. Harvard got to running, ready to elbow through the barricade that Bob, Phoenix, and Halo formed. Sweetheart and Rooster chased after him, reaching out to grasp at him and yank him back until he fell to the ground.

Round three was quick. Sweetheart had the ball and she told Rooster to go long. Rooster ran past everyone, getting to the fake end zone where Sweetheart threw the ball as far as she could. He ended up catching it, scoring the touchdown. And then round four was where it all went wrong. Payback took the ball. He decided to hog it and just brute force his way through the defense. Sweetheart ran behind him, attempting to get a tackle. But she was side swiped by Hangman who just bull slammed her to the ground. She fell onto her shoulder, and she felt something pop.

"FUCK! FUCK GOD DAMN IT!" she wailed out, getting a mouthful of sand as she writhed on the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?!" Rooster angrily slapped at Hangman before rushing to his friend's side. Phoenix knelt to the ground beside her, quickly assessing the damage. And then Captain Mitchell rushed to aid.

"Something popped! Holy shit it hurts!" Sweetheart hissed out.

"Come on, let's get you sitting." Maverick said and both Rooster and Phoenix carefully helped Sweetheart to her butt. She cried out through clenched teeth as the pain radiated down her entire left side.

"Oooooh that doesn't look good." Sweetheart heard Bob whisper out.

"Damn, Hangman. Someone needs anger management classes." Payback had said, and whether or not that was meant to be a joke, Sweetheart didn't take kindly to it.

"Everyone shut the fuck up!"

"You'll be alright." Maverick tried to calm her. "Easy fix. Just take a deep breath." he instructed her as he splayed his palm against her shoulder blade.

Sweetheart braced herself, taking a deep breath like he said, and giving her free hand to Rooster so she could hold onto something in case she passes out. Maverick counted to three, and then shoved the bone back into its socket. Sweetheart cursed to the high heavens when he did that. Pain engulfed her and nausea threatened to consume her. When he told her that everything was back in place, she fell to her back to try and ground herself so she didn't black out.

"That was not cool, man." she heard Coyote say. And when Coyote goes against his own friend, you know Hangman really fucked up. But Hangman didn't seem to think so.

"I'm just playing the game." he chuckled out arrogantly. "Maybe it's best she left the Navy. She can't handle a little tackle football, how is she gonna handle a fighter jet?"

"Bite me, asshole!" she spit at him, wobbling as she got to her feet and readied herself for an actual physical fight.

"Only because you asked oh so nicely, darlin."

"You're real conceited for someone who got one achievement and made it your entire personality! You're just a shit pilot and are trying to cover it up!"

"Between the two of us, which one is still a pilot?" he calmly responded, an ugly smirk plastering his fucking face.

Sweetheart lunged at him, only getting millimeters from him as Rooster held her back. But Phoenix was ready to back her up as she too swiped a fist at him. But Fanboy held her back as well.

"I'll take you outta the sky any day! You're garbage! You couldn't keep up even if we gave you a head start!" claimed Sweetheart.

"Alright! Everyone! Calm down!" yelled Maverick. "That's an order!"

Everyone halted their motions, one by one taking a deep breath and relaxing themselves until the threat of physical violence was no longer a main concern. Rooster still had a hold on her, and Fanboy on Phoenix, but they got shrugged off as the two women made their way into each other's space. And then Maverick caught everyone's attention, but his focus was only on Sweetheart.

"You're a pilot?" he merely asked her. Sweetheart straightened up when he addressed her. Call it force of habit. She ignored the thumping of pain in her shoulder.

"Yes, Sir. I was, Sir."

"Name?" he asked her, and she freely gave it. Former rank, call sign, all of it. "And your service record?"

"I am a TOPGUN graduate. Former WSO for Lieutenant Trace and The Black Aces in Afghanistan. Been stationed all over the East Coast since I was eighteen."

"WSO?" he eyed between the two women curiously. "Are you supposed to be here, Lieutenant."

"I'm not a Lieutenant anymore, Sir. But I did get the call back. I declined it."

"Why?"

"Personal reasons."

"She didn't make the cut. She just won't admit it." taunted Hangman, which riled her up once more. She tried to take a swing at him but was intercepted once more by Rooster.

"I'll leave you in the dust, Bagman! Phoenix and I could take you down before you could finish saying goodbye to your mommy!"

"You wanna bet?!" he spat back.

"I said that's enough!" yelled Maverick once more. He stepped between to two of them, acting as a barrier to prevent any more fighting. "If you really want to take each other on, do it in the air!"

"With pleasure, Sir." Hangman grinned sickeningly. "I will happily take them down."

"I second the motion." chimed Phoenix with an equally sickening tone.

"Alright, everyone calm down." Rooster tried to be the middle man. "We'll talk about this later."

He began to pull both Sweetheart and Phoenix away from the scene, attempting to calm them down as much as he could. Once the three of them were far enough away, they all let out an exasperated sigh and relaxed the tense muscles they hadn't realized were knotted up.

"I really wanna punch him in the face." Sweetheart muttered.

"Trust me, I do too." replied Phoenix.

"Why'd you have to make that stupid bet with him?" asked Rooster. "You do realize that if you don't actually take him up in the air, he's never going to let it go."

"Relax. I doubt the Captain will allow me on base to actually fight him."

"I dunno. Maverick seemed pretty serious about it." said Phoenix.

"Oh please. I'm not even part of the mission. I'm pretty sure unauthorized personnel on sight would be literally kicked out." she tried to wave them off, but her shoulder was still throbbing so she dropped her hand.

"Can we just forget about it? I don't wanna think about Bagman anymore. Not when we have this day to ourselves." begged the brunette pilot.

She was right, so the three of them agreed to put the last ten minutes behind them and continue on with their day like it didn't happen. Sweetheart's recent injury put a stop to any plans they may have had to go swimming, so they opted to just wade in the water for a little while before heading up the beach to grab something to eat. After a quick lunch, Rooster split to give the two women some alone time, which was greatly appreciated.

They enjoyed being able to actually have time with each other after all these years. It made Sweetheart realize that she didn't give Phoenix enough credit as a girlfriend. Being without her the last two years was miserable. And she was positive that had she just been honest about what happened, the present day would be completely different. Maybe she would've stayed in the Navy. Maybe she would've gone back to The Black Aces with Phoenix after graduation.

There was no point in dwelling on the past. The only thing they could do now was rebuild what they lost. And, so far, it was working out perfectly. They walked down memory lane for a little while, revisiting old spots. Then they went back to the water to cool off as the sun got even hotter throughout the afternoon. One game of water tag, a few sandcastles, and a deep tan later, they called it a day and went to go grab dinner at a little seafood diner spot not too far off from the beach. They shared some shrimp, had a few drinks, and Sweetheart even treated her girl to some cheesecake for dessert.

And then Phoenix got the dreaded text message from Rooster that let her know everyone was heading back to base and to meet up with them.

"You gotta go?"

"Yeah." she sighed reluctantly.

"I'll walk you back to the beach. I don't wanna say goodbye yet."

"Awe, you're cute." Phoenix lovingly pinched at her cheek like a mother would her child. Despite Sweetheart slapping her hand away, she couldn't help the blush that painted her face.

They walked back down the beach hand-in-hand. Fingers entwined just a little bit tighter as the shore came into view. Today was a good day, and Sweetheart was already discussing plans on the next time they can get together, much to Phoenix's enjoyment. The brunette kept saying how adorable she was when she was excited.

The group of pilots were visible now. All huddled together around their Captain as he talked to them about something. Hangman responded back, his arrogance clear on his face even from all the way back here. Rooster was annoyed and rolled his eyes. As the two women got closer, they captured the others' attention.

"Didn't think you'd have the balls to show up." Hangman was first to speak. Sweetheart took a deep breath to prevent herself from literally spitting in his face.

"Enough, Lieutenant." Maverick put a stop to it before it could start. "Phoenix, we're heading back. Sweetheart? I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning. Eight am sharp."

"Wait, what?" Sweetheart uttered in surprise and confusion.

"You can back out now if you wanna. I won't hold it against you, swear it." Hangman faux promised, holding his hand up in a scout's honor that everyone knew he wouldn't abide by even if his life depended on it.

"Wait, you're actually serious about letting us fight it out? I'm not a pilot anymore. Surely that breaks some sort of code?" Sweetheart tried to reason with the older man.

"I don't care if you're still active or not. Once a pilot, always a pilot. Besides, it'll be good training for everyone." he responded confidently. "Tomorrow. Eight am. Don't be late."

The Captain walked away, signalling for everyone to follow. They did, but Phoenix stayed back a moment to give Sweetheart a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"It'll be alright." she soothed. "I'll see you tomorrow. And we'll give Hangman a good beating. You and me." Another hug, and she was off, leaving Sweetheart alone to process what just happened.

Sweetheart had a hard time sleeping that night. She was up tossing and turning, picturing what the day ahead was going to consist of. A huge part of her was a bit terrified. It's been two years since she was in a fighter jet. And on top of it, they bet against Hangman of all people. If this didn't go right, he will use it to abuse both her and Phoenix for the rest of their lives. Why did she have to make that stupid bet? It was the heat of the moment, she didn't mean it!

But when the alarm went off at 06:30 am, she couldn't hide any more. She had an hour and a half to get presentable and make it to base or else..... She didn't have her uniform with her -but then again why would she? She didn't expect to go back to TOPGUN. She was just here for Tasha. And Bradley. She hoped a pair of jeans and a plain shirt would suffice. Besides, she'd be putting on a pilot's suit anyway.

She made sure to pay extra attention to her appearance: she gelled her hair a little bit more, parted it in that way she used to when she was still active, pinned back the stragglers she keeps saying she'll get taken care of but never does. Then she brushed her teeth a little bit longer than usual, straightened her shoe laces before tying them up, and flattened down any wrinkles in her clothes. And then she grabbed her car keys and phone, and headed out of the hotel.

She knew the drive to base very well. She hadn't forgotten it at all. It felt like yesterday she was first here with Tasha. Seeing the gates as she pulled up felt like the first time too.

"Can I help you?" a man stopped her. His name badge said Coleman on it.

"Um, hi. I've been called here by Captain Mitchell." Sweetheart responded.

"You must be Sweetheart, then."

"Yes, Sir."

"He's waiting for you. Go on in."

The gates opened, allowing her in. Coleman told her where to park her car and where to meet Maverick, but she already knew that, and she was able to get her shit together fairly quickly despite panicking hardcore on the inside. Walking towards the hangar didn't help one bit, and seeing everyone anxiously huddled and looking around didn't help either. She caught Phoenix's eyes -the woman smiling widely at her appearance- and found herself relaxing slightly. Tasha always calmed her.

Phoenix ran her way, meeting her in the middle, and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

"I was afraid you'd back out." she whispered in her ear.

"I almost did. Honestly? I feel like puking." Sweetheart responded back.

"You'll be fine. There's nothing you and I can't do."

"It's not about not being able to do it. It's more like if we don't beat Hangman, it'll be the end of our careers. Or, well, your career and my life."

"No. Don't act like that." she sternly pointed a finger. "We'll kick his ass and make him cry. He deserves it."

"I'll do my best, Lieutenant." Sweetheart playfully saluted, making the brunette laugh. They then walked back to the group, ready to face the music.

Hangman didn't even try to hide his arrogance. He was twirling that ugly toothpick like he always does, the whites of his teeth shining behind his lips as he smiled over the wood. Sweetheart hated when he did that. The toothpick was a stupid signature trademark of his. It didn't make sense to her. He probably thought it made him look tough, but really it just made him look like even more of an asshole than he already was.

"You ready to lose, darlin'?"

Exhibit A.

"I hope we get your defeat on camera, Bagman. I want to replay it every night before I go to sleep." Phoenix was quick to retort. Her comment did little, if any, to deter him.

"Alright, everyone take a seat. We'll do a quick rundown on the course and then you'll get in your jets.." Maverick interrupted.

No one argued against him and took their seats in the makeshift classroom in the center of the hangar. Everyone appeared to be sitting with their wingman -as evident by the fact that Phoenix was sandwiched in between Bob and Sweetheart. Sweetheart, her former WSO. Bob, her current one.

"Alright. You guys have had your practice with dogfighting. But that skill is reserved for an as-needed situation. Your main goal is to simply navigate." Maverick began to explain, bringing up a holographic layout of a mountainous terrain. "The terrain is hidden in a canyon range, guarded by surface-to-air missiles. Your task will be to navigate below these SAMs along the canyon with a max ceiling of one hundred feet." he said so casually, but both Sweetheart and Phoenix shared an oh shit look with each other. No way this guy was serious. One hundred feet? In an F-18? That was suicide!

"He's not serious?" Sweetheart muttered to Phoenix, but her doubt was heard loud and clear.

"Oh, I'm very serious." said Maverick, looking directly at her. "But because this is just a training session, I'll go easy on you. You will not exceed a max ceiling of three hundred feet. You will not have to worry about dodging any missiles. All you have to do it navigate this canyon and take out a marked target on the ground. You'll have three minutes to complete this course. Exceed three minutes, you lose. Go above three hundred feet, you lose. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I don't have a WSO. A little unfair, don't ya think?" Hangman quipped with a hand raised like he was in grade school again. Maverick didn't answer, instead passing the reins to the two women who merely exchanged a silent look. Phoenix shrugged. Sweetheart quirked an eyebrow. Phoenix twitched her lips. And then Sweetheart shrugged.

"We'll be nice and let you choose your own WSO." answered Phoenix.

"Alright.... Fanboy."

"Dude, really?" whined said WSO. He pouted like a child.

"Shut up, dude. You'll have nothing to worry about because we'll win. Easily."

"Yeah, I just don't like you." Fanboy rolled his eyes.

"Are we all in agreement?" spoke Maverick. Another round of glances was exchanged, and everyone nodded. "Good. Go suit up."

At the dismissal, everyone stood from their seats. Phoenix led Sweetheart to a set of lockers, pulling out a couple of flight suits and handing her one. Sweetheart eyed it cautiously. She couldn't help but remember the last time she wore one of these, and the reason why she stopped.

"Hey, look at me." Phoenix cooed, using a finger under her chin to raise her eyes. "What's going on?"

"I've been gone for two years. And my first time back I'm having to fight against Hangman over a stupid bet."

"You doubt yourself?"

"Is it shameful to say a little bit?" she questioned guiltily.

"No. But I know you. And I know you're the best damn WSO I've ever had. You've taken down targets half blind. You've taken down targets without a targeting system. If there's anyone that could do this with me, it'd be you." she soothed. The finger under her chin had migrated to her hair, plucking a stray that Sweetheart somehow missed with the gel.

"But it's been years. What if I mess up?"

"You won't. It's like riding a bike, once you get up in the air, it'll come back to you. And if we lose this bet, so what? It's not the end of the world. Who cares if Hangman makes fun of us for losing?"

"But what if this ruins your chances for being on this mission? What if I screw it up for you?"

"If it does, it does. I don't wanna be on this mission if you won't be with me anyway." the woman claimed. Sweetheart doubted her words, knowing full well that Lieutenant Natasha Trace lived and breathed for the skies. Being grounded was like clipping a bird's wings -cruel. But, even still, the words comforted her. And maybe for a moment she could believe that this woman would risk a job for her.

"So you won't be mad at me if I miss the target?" Sweetheart smiled softly.

"I promise. Now come on. Suit up." she tossed the flight suit at her and then began to pull her own on.

Sweetheart followed her lead and dressed. Then she took her hand and followed her outside where the F-18s were. Hangman and Fanboy were outside already dressed, standing by Hangman's engraved fighter jet. Phoenix's -and Bob's- were beside his. Everyone was gathered around, ready for the fight.

"How about we make this bet worthwhile?" came Hangman's grating voice. It rattled Sweetheart's ears and made her grimmace.

"What'chu got?" prompted Phoenix.

"Double the pushups." spoke Fanboy. Sweetheart had to rack her brain for what that meant. Double the pushups? And then she remembered what Phoenix told her when they first talked. Payback had bet two hundred pushups for whatever reason, and everyone had to do them. Now double them? Fanboy officially took first place for being the dumbest idiot alive.

"No. That's too easy. Let's spice it up a little bit." Phoenix waved it off. Hangman silently urged her to go on. Sweetheart was also curious as to what the woman had up her sleeve. "If we win, we get to dress you up and parade you around like a showgirl."

"What?!" both Sweetheart and Fanboy cried out incredulously.

"No way! I don't want any part of this!" said Fanboy.

"Relax!" yelled Hangman. "We've got nothing to worry about."

"Dude, I'm not risking my reputation like that."

"Don't worry, Fanboy. This punishment only applies to Bagman." said Phoenix. This made Hangman scoff out.

"That's not fair! What's to stop him from sabotaging me? He's gotta take it too."

"You picked him yourself. You saying you can't trust your own WSO?" challenged Rooster with a shit-eating grin.

"Not when he has nothing at stake!"

"You can back out of this bet now if you want, dick-head." pushed the brunette pilot. She crossed her arms over her chest, seemingly confident that they already won without even trying. It was silent for a moment as Hangman pondered it.

"If we lose, we both take the punishment." he reiterated. Fanboy's eyes bugged, unbelieving at what he was hearing. He threw a look at Sweetheart, hoping that she'd speak up and say something to save him

Fanboy was a good friend to Sweetheart. He's never done anything to her to warrant that type of embarrassment. She didn't want to punish him. She tried to tell him as such without actually saying any words. She used her fingers to cross over her heart, letting him know that she held him in good graces and wouldn't punish him. He seemed to understand and nod along.

"Fine. I'm in." he relented.

"Good." Hangman sighed with relief. "But, when we win, we get to dress you up and you have to be our personal showgirls."

This made Sweetheart reel with worry. No way Phoenix would actually agree to that! She wouldn't put Sweetheart in that position! Not after all the harassment Hangman has been directing at her for her entire military career. Not after the actual sexual assault she had to deal with. No, she wouldn't do that.

"Deal." Phoenix spoke.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sweetheart angrily directed towards the woman. "You did not just agree to that?"

"It'll be okay. Do you trust me?"

"You just sold us out to Hangman!"

"We're not gonna lose. Why am I the only one that believes that?"

"She's right." came Rooster, idling up beside them. "I know you'll win. And maybe this will knock Hangman down a few pegs. It's about time someone shows him up."

"I don't like this." muttered Sweetheart.

"Hangman and Fanboy will run the course first. We'll all be keeping watch and monitoring your flight path. Remember, your ceiling is three hundred feet, and your time limit is three minutes." reminded Maverick.

"Might as well stay out here, because we'll be back before you know it." taunted Hangman. He spit his stupid toothpick to the ground and then ordered Fanboy to the jet. They got in, got all buckled up, and did a quick rundown on the equipment to make sure everything worked. When they gave the okay signal, the runway was cleared in preparation for takeoff.

Maverick ordered everyone else back in the hangar where their jet was pinged on the holographic map. Maverick pulled out a mic, speaking into it to test the two-way communication. When that was all good, Maverick gave full control over to Hangman.

"Once you're in the air and hit one hundred feet, your timer will start." he spoke. "Runway is all clear for takeoff. Comms are all yours."

"Noted. Fanboy, how we looking on the weapons systems?"

"Targeting system up and active." he replied.

"Copy. Let's get this over with. I can't wait for this to all be over with." Sweetheart could hear the smirk painting his lips and it made her roll her eyes. But, secretly, her heart was thumping.

She watched as Hangman navigated the jet towards the end of the runway and then make a smooth takeoff into the air. Immediately, all eyes were watching the monitor. the F-18 reached one hundred feet in a span of seconds, and the timer at the top began counting. The makeshift terrain had spawned around the marker meant to be Hangman and Fanboy.

Hangman and Fanboy kept each other updated every few seconds. Their communication was heard loud and clear in the hangar. Hangman was so confident in himself, claiming they were making great time, that he cracked a few jokes. Sweetheart wanted to laugh at him, but he was in fact making great time. She looked at the timer and saw they've only been in the air for a minute, and they were pretty much halfway through the course.

Sweetheart chewed on her thumb, wanting desperately to cry. She hoped their aircraft would suffer some sort of failure, making them drop from the course and get eliminated. But then she remembered Garcia was in the jet as well, and she didn't want any harm to come to him. She felt bad for thinking like that and reprimanded herself in her head. Even still, the bad thoughts did nothing to quell her fear of losing.

Two minutes. They were in the air for two minutes and Hangman was already claiming that they were approaching the target and for Fanboy to ready the missile strike.

"Targeting system engaged." he spoke, just rambling off the updates. "I've got a lock. Bring us in closer." he instructed his pilot.

"We've got one shot at this. Don't screw it up." he spat back.

"Gee, I was thinking how I could fuck us over. But now that you mention it, I've changed my ways!" he sarcastically replied. If there was room in the aircraft, and time for him to do so, Sweetheart was positive he would've dramatically shrugged his shoulders and slapped his forehead for emphasis.

"Just drop the missile!" Hangman was tired of the jokes.

"Bring us in closer and I will."

"Fucking drop it!"

"The targeting system needs us to be closer if we want to make direct contact!"

"Fine! I'll get closer! But if you miss the window and overshoot, it'll be your own fault!"

"I won't overshoot!"

The marker for the jet rapidly approached the target. Just as they were about to fly overhead of it, Fanboy dropped the missile. A new marker on the monitor appeared as it tracked the missile. It landed just short of the target, but at least it wasn't an overshot. Fanboy was close. He had waited just half a second longer, he might've been dead on.

Once the missile was dropped, Maverick ordered them back to the runway. They had landed just a moment later. Despite missing the target, both men were rather happy with their run. And as Sweetheart and Phoenix passed him while they made their way to their jet, he shouldered Sweetheart and knocked her to the side. She caught herself before she tripped over her feet, but bit her tongue. Now was not the time to focus on him. She needed to focus on the course.

The two of them got in the jet, buckled in, and went over their equipment. Sweetheart was using a loner helmet from Halo. The other WSO had told her to kick Hangman's ass as she handed it off, claiming she's only known the male pilot for a couple of days but already hated his guts.

"Comm test. You copy?" she heard Phoenix's voice in her ear.

"Copy. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear. How's the weapons system functioning?" she asked and Sweetheart took a moment to fiddle with the multitude of buttons surrounding her. It took a second for her to remember what button did what, but she managed and she flicked the system to life.

"Up and functional."

"How are you feeling about this?" the brunette asked, a little less Lieutenant-y and a little more girlfriend-y. Sweetheart took an audible deep breath.

"Nervous."

"Hey, look at me." Phoenix turned to peer behind the seat. "No matter what happens, I still love you, okay? If we lose this bet, and Hangman turns us into his sick fantasy, I won't blame you. But we won't lose, because I'll fly us faster than the speed of light, and you'll hit that target dead on. You and I haven't failed a mission yet, and we're not gonna start now."

"Can I least have a moment to re-familiarize myself with the buttons? It's been two fucking years, Tasha. And I'm a little scared."

"Our timer doesn't start until we hit a hundred feet and Maverick didn't say we had to takeoff immediately. I'm not moving until you tell me to."

"Okay."

Feeling a little better knowing Phoenix was giving her all the time she needed, Sweetheart began pressing buttons she was confident wouldn't just drop the missile on the runway. Okay, what does this button do? And this one? she asked herself as she pressed stuff and watched to see what they did. One button brought up the course. Another button activated the target lock. She knew for a fact that this button was to drop the missile, so she left it alone.

"Alright. Let's get this over with." Sweetheart muttered.

"You ready?" Phoenix asked for confirmation.

"As ready as I can be."

"Alright, ladies. The runway is clear. Comms are all yours." spoke Maverick.

"Copied." said Phoenix.

"Copied." repeated Sweetheart.

"Tell me when the timer starts." was Phoenix's only order. When Sweetheart agreed, Phoenix took off down the runway.

Feeling the rush of gravity as the aircraft actually pulled off the asphalt and skyrocketed into the sun made Sweetheart's stomach drop to her feet. But in a good way. It was a feeling that took her months to recondition her body to forget when she went civilian. She'd go to bed every night, feeling herself sinking against the imaginary force of gravity that ingrained itself into her brain. And now that she was experiencing it again, she wouldn't be able to forget it a second time.

"We've got countdown!" Sweetheart was brought back to the present when the altitude flashed one hundred feet on her screen.

Phoenix straightened out the nose, keeping it level and underneath the hard ceiling. Seeing the course displayed on a holographic monitor was one thing, but actually being thrown against the sides of the aircraft as Phoenix sharply took each turn was another thing. This wasn't anything new; their time with the Black Aces had prepared her for every fast-paced situation one could think of. But it still took her by surprise when they went through the first turn.

"Skies clear. Course on par with time. You've got another turn in four decimal seven seconds." Sweetheart rattled off. It was second nature to just talk, even if the information wasn't all that important. Phoenix liked being talked to. She hated having a quiet wingman.

She took the turn effortlessly, and Sweetheart watched her monitor ahead of their location, making sure the course was still clear of obstruction and that their pathing was matching up with their marker on the course. She made sure Phoenix was aware of the information.

Sweetheart tried not to look at the timer that was flashing in front of her eyes. She looked at it once, and they had already gone past a minute. She panicked for a moment, because it felt like they were only in the air for ten seconds. She told herself not to look at it again, because it would just make her freeze up and ruin everything. And she was already on edge.

"How far until we reach the target?" Phoenix asked. Sweetheart knew she was aware of where the target was in proximity to their location, but she wanted Sweetheart to talk.

"We've just reached the halfway mark on the course."

"I'm gonna drop us lower, give you a better chance at hitting the target."

"Are you crazy?! Three hundred feet is already pushing it! I don't want us to die for this stupid bet!"

"The mission will have us lower anyway. Might as well give it a shot now."

"Tasha, it's not worth it. Just keep your altitude. I can hit the target from this height."

"Well you better get ready because it's coming up any second now."

"Copy that. Maintain speed. Targeting system up and running. Target locked and-" Sweetheart began to say. Her sentence was cut short when her screen flashed a warning that her targeting system was nonfunctional. Sweetheart messed with the buttons, trying to diagnose the issue, but every time, the screen kept saying the auto-lock wasn't working.

"Talk to me, Sweetheart. What's going on?"

"Targeting system is down! I repeat, targeting system is down!"

"What?! You said it was operational!"

"It was! I can't fix it! I'll have to manually target but you gotta slow down and give me time!"

"I can't slow down! If I drop speed we won't make it in time!" claimed Phoenix, forcing the other woman to look back at the flashing timer. She was right; their time was rapidly approaching the three minute mark and they still hadn't reached the actual target yet.

"I can't hit the target unless you slow down!" Sweetheart repeated the problem.

"You can do it! Just drop the missile!"

"I can't! You need to slow down!"

"We won't make it! You can do it! I believe in you!"

Both women began screaming at each other, both of them giving differing opinions. Sweetheart was adamant that she wasn't skilled for such a low-altitude drop at this speed. Her expertise was dropping bombs from high in the sky. There was too much room for error here. Too much math that needed to be precise for it to work out in their favor. But Phoenix kept saying how there wasn't enough time to slow down. She needed to maintain her speed in order to stay under the three minute mark, which was now almost up and caused Sweetheart's hands to get sweaty and her brain to get foggy on the equations.

"Slow down!" Sweetheart said.

"I can't!" Phoenix replied back just as quickly. "DROP IT!!!" she cried.

"ALRIGHT!!!!"

Sweetheart practically slammed her fist into the button, releasing the missile and sending it hurdling towards Earth. Phoenix took the jet higher into the sky, breaching the three hundred feet ceiling to protect them from the blast. Sweetheart turned as far as she could in their cramped aircraft to watch the explosion cloud up the atmosphere with dust and smoke.

"Holy shit!" she found herself yelling out, like it was the first time she was witnessing this despite that being further from the truth.

"Runway clear for landing. Make your way back immediately." Maverick's voice brought her back to the present.

"Over and out. Runway in sight. Attempting a landing." Phoenix replied. She maneuvered the aircraft back to the runway, smoothly resting the landing gear on the asphalt like she was resting a sleeping baby in its crib. Not a hiccup in the landing. Not so much as a scuff on the wheels. But, then again, Sweetheart never doubted her skills.

Once on the ground, and the F-18 turned off, and the canopy open, Phoenix happily jumped out and got to her feet. Sweetheart on the other hand was still strapped in, eyes glazed over as she mentally tried to bring herself back to Earth. Her head was still in the clouds. She was still reminiscing the feeling of being in the sky. It almost felt like a dream, like she was watching herself in third person and the last three minutes wasn't her actually doing it, but rather controlling a video game character.

"Hey, you okay?" Phoenix asked through the comms, approaching the side of the aircraft and holding out a hand as if she could pull the woman out.

"What? Yeah. Yeah I'm good." Sweetheart shook her head to clear it.

"Come on. Let's get your feet back on the ground."

Phoenix helped Sweetheart out, keeping hands on her waist to hold her steady as she swayed. When she was confident her partner wasn't going to collapse, she helped remove the helmet and smoothed down the hair that pulled out of its neat bun.

"You did it." she whispered, a loving smile breaking out on her face. "You fucking did it."

"I did?"

"Yeah! I told you you would!"

"Haha! You two are fucking insane!" Rooster ran up to the two women, enveloping them in his arms and laughing out his happiness as she shook them. "Holy shit you dropped it without a lock! And hit it! I knew you were good but god damn!"

"I actually hit it?!" Sweetheart's eyes went wide with disbelief.

"Hell yeah you did!"

"Come on, guys. Let's go over the results." ordered Maverick with a wave of his hand.

"Help me walk. My legs feel like jelly." said Sweetheart, making both of her friends laugh.

Phoenix had one arm around her waist, Rooster had one arm linked with hers. The both of them guided her back inside the hangar where she was assaulted with more hugs from everyone else. Including Fanboy. Not really knowing what to do, she handed the helmet back to Halo, muttering a thanks. This made Halo laugh a hearty laugh like it was the funniest joke she's ever heard of in her entire life.

"Alright, everyone. Come on. We'll celebrate later. First let's go over the replays and see who won." repeated the Captain.

Everyone took their seats again, acting like kids in class who were excited for the teachers to bring in pizza for a pizza party. Everyone was leaning forward on their elbows, eagerly awaiting Maverick to say something again. But Sweetheart hid her shaking hands in her lap, trying to hide the fact that she was still pumping with adrenaline. But Tasha noticed. She always does. And she took a hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and giving her palm a squeeze. Sweetheart smiled at her gratefully.

"Alright. Let's make it quick and simple." started Maverick, pulling up replays of both their pathings. "You both stayed below the three hundred foot ceiling. You both made it to the target. Hangman and Fanboy: your time to target was two decimal seventeen decimal forty-seven." he said, making both men cheer with delight. "Phoenix and Sweetheart: time to target was two decimal fifty-three decimal twenty-one."

Hearing the recorded times made the air in Sweetheart's lungs disappear. They barely made it. Had Phoenix sneezed they would've been late........ they lost. Hangman was faster than them. But of fucking course he was. He's known for being one of the fastest pilots in the Navy. That skill is what gave him that air-to-air kill. He was just faster.

Sweetheart and Phoenix turned to each other, their faces solemn and disappointed. They knew that this bet was a mistake, and now they were paying the price for it. Sweetheart shuddered at the image of what Hangman could possibly dress them up in.

"Phoenix and Sweetheart won." said Maverick, and everyone's heads snapped up to look at him with bugged eyes.

"What?!" Hangman jumped to his feet, making the desk screech across the flooring. "We were almost a minute faster! What do you mean they fucking won?!"

"Your only two agreed upon stipulations was one: stay below three hundred feet altitude, and two: reach the target in no more than three minutes. You both met both of those parameters, but it was Sweetheart's dead-on missile drop that pushed them ahead of you. Fanboy was off almost a hundred feet. Had this been the mission, you would've alerted the enemy at the airstrike, giving them time to fight back. And then it's a dogfight."

"And she did it without a targeting system!" reminded Rooster with a shit-eating grin.

"I knew she would do it. I never doubted her for a second." Phoenix prided herself, giving Sweetheart a one-armed hug and holding her into her side.

"You're fucking kidding me!"

"Sit down, pretty boy. You'll need your energy for the show you're gonna be putting on for everyone tonight." taunted the brunette pilot. Hangman wanted to sneer at her. He wanted to curse her out, fist fight her right here right now. But everyone was witness to the bet. Everyone heard them agree on the conditions. He couldn't get out of it.

"Screw this!" he yelled, storming out of the hangar and head hung low in shame.

Rooster coughed out a 'loser' behind his back. Whether or not Hangman heard it was irrelevant as everyone else heard it and they all laughed. Maybe seeing Maverick crack a smile and try to hide it was what Sweetheart needed to see. Once Hangman was gone from sight, that was when the celebration started. Everyone once again jumped to their feet to circle around the women.

"About time Hangman got a taste of his own medicine." Bob happily rocked on the balls of his feet.

"He was seriously starting to piss me off." commented Halo again. "Bet he'll keep his ego in check from now on."

"Not yet. First we have to get him all nice and pretty." reminded Phoenix, elbowing Sweetheart with a knowing smirk. She grinned back.

"Oh yeah, don't remind me...." Fanboy grimaced and shuddered. "Please be nice to me. I'm a good friend to you guys." he dramatically begged.

"Relax, Garcia. The punishment still stands for just Jake. You're clear." Sweetheart consoled, a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh thank god!" he huffed out.

"Don't let him hear that. He'll throw another tantrum." chuckled Rooster. "Actually, now that I think about it, get it tattooed on his forehead. That way he's always reminded of it."

"Now that's an idea!" agreed Phoenix.

"Nope. That was not the agreed upon punishment." spoke Maverick, acting like a parent scolding their child.

"You're no fun." said Phoenix.

"I let you guys do this, didn't I?"

Sweetheart and Phoenix shared a look that said he wasn't wrong. They shrugged and rolled their eyes. They'll punish Hangman one way or another. All they have to do is brainstorm how badly they want him to hurt. Phoenix was thinking an old-school Rockette or maybe a Pinup Girl. Sweetheart had the idea of finding the ugliest, trashiest Halloween costume and putting it on him.

"Everyone take a quick break. Let Lieutenant Seresin calm down. We'll pick up training later."

With everyone in agreement, they all split off to go do whatever they wanted for the next few minutes. Sweetheart took the free time to head back out onto the runway and inspect the F-18. She wanted to know why the targeting system failed on her. But, also, she couldn't help but feel drawn to the aircraft. All she ever wanted to do was fly. She remembered seeing the military recruiters come to her high school on career day. She was only fourteen years old at the time, and before that she had never given the military a single thought. But for some reason, she wanted to talk to them, get more information.

Of course the recruiters glorified what they actually did, making it seem like you're not actually risking your life for it. But she wasn't stupid. She knew the Army was tough. The Marines as well. Hell, she couldn't even do a pull up when they told her to get on the bar. It was embarrassing as all hell. And even though they didn't laugh and instead just told her to work on it and she could do anything, she couldn't help but walk away from them in shame. When she walked by the Navy booth, they stopped her to talk to her.

Her ignorance of what the Navy actually did made her try to weasel her way out of it. 'Sorry, I don't like water' she said. They told her they do more than station on boats. They fly aircrafts. They fight in the skies. She thought that was what the Air Force did. The Air Force does fly planes, they said, but unlike the Air Force, when they're in the skies they're fighting. Whereas the Air Force will do a lot of basic cargo transportation.

Transporting cargo didn't seem like fun. Dropping bombs from a plane did. She talked with the Navy recruiters some more. They had already seen her fail at the pullups, but they asked her to do some other physical tests like pushups and stretches. She didn't completely make a fool out of herself, so they handed her some pamphlets that detailed salaries and benefits and outlined the tasks they did, and she carried on with her day.

Something inside her clicked. 'This is what I want to do' she said and she began to work on herself so she could get there. Her high school didn't have a Naval ROTC, just an Army one, so she just took a lot of physical education classes to bulk up and get her strength. She studied hardcore for the ACT and SAT so she could pass with flying colors and get accepted into an NROTC college. Once she got there, she applied for a Navy scholarship and focused her concentration on an aviation career.

Graduating with a job as a pilot was the happiest day of her life. And now here she was: a TOPGUN graduate with over ten years of experience under her belt. She was the best of the best. She was a decorated pilot with highly ambitious recognition. She loved it. Being gone for the last two years was heartbreaking. She missed the skies. But her fear of what happened to her overruled her love for aviation. It wasn't fair. And she was no longer going to let it overrule her life.

"You're thinking hard about something." she heard Phoenix approach her.

"I'm thinking about how I got here. It feels like just yesterday I was training to join the Navy. And then I blinked and now I'm a TOPGUN graduate." she replied.

"Time just races when you've got a good wingman by your side." Phoenix nudged her.

"True, but I've also been thinking about the last two years I was gone. When my situation finally dawned on me and I made the decision to leave the Navy, I was angry with myself. I was angry that I let my fear ruin my life and my career. I worked so hard to get where I was and I just gave it up."

"You didn't just give it up." consoled Phoenix. "You had every reason to leave. You were taken advantage of. Our XO had a rope around you. You did what you had to do."

"I keep asking myself if I could've done something differently." she spoke, finally turning to face the other woman. Phoenix stayed calm, but her eyes showed her pity. Sweetheart hated it.

"What's done is done. There's no changing what happened. You can only go forward, and I'll be here to help you. I miss you, a lot. I miss having you as my wingman, I miss being up in the air with you behind me, I miss being able to hold your hand whenever I want." on queue, she took Sweetheart's hand. "You and I were meant to be a team. We work so well together. I want you to come back. Maybe it's too late for this mission, but it's not too late to re-enlist."

"I don't even know where to begin with that. I begged to be let go. When we graduated TOPGUN, it was expected that I would go back to work and apply for a promotion. I had stipulations attached to me. I had to jump through hoops to drop them and go home." she explained, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. But she wouldn't let them. No more crying. She's done enough crying.

"We'll figure it out. Maybe Maverick can put in a good word for you."

"Maybe Maverick will." speak of the devil. Both women turned to see him approaching them. "I looked into your service record. You've got quite the list of accomplishments."

"Thank you, Sir. But I can't take all the credit; Lieutenant Trace and I have been a team for so long, that our service records are almost identical." she motioned to the woman in question, happy to share the glory.

"Can I ask again why you decided to retire so early?"

"Personal reasons, Sir." she repeated. "I was being coerced by a higher up. He took advantage of me and I couldn't handle it anymore."

"I see....." he trailed off. "You impressed me today. If I could get you a way back in, would you accept it?"

"I would need to go back to training...."

"That can be arranged."

"And, if it's not pushing my luck, I would like to be Phoenix's WSO again."

"I'm sure The Black Aces would accept you back without issue. But that would be up to them. I can only promise a good word."

"Come on, take it!" Phoenix urged her quietly. "We'll figure everything else out later!"

Sweetheart and Phoenix stared at each other for a moment, having a silent conversation. Well, it wasn't much of a conversation -more so Phoenix telling her what to do.

"What would I have to do, Sir?"

"Do you have a uniform?"

"Not with me. All my stuff is back home. I didn't plan on re-enlisting when I came here."

"Go home, get your stuff, and get back here ASAP. We'll get you started on some of the basics and work our way from there."

"Yes, SIr!" she gaped. "Thank you!"

Maverick smiled at her and walked away, leaving the women there with their jaws halfway to the floor. And then they jumped and squealed like school girls.

"I told you!" claimed Phoenix, throwing her arms around sweetheart.

"I can't believe this is actually happening." muttered Sweetheart. "I gotta get home. I gotta get my stuff!"

"Not yet, first we have to punish Hangman." she reminded. "We'll let that be your send off."

"I have to thank you for pushing me to do this. If it wasn't for this stupid bet, I wouldn't be standing here with the opportunity to get back in. And we wouldn't be punishing Hangman."

"Well, truthfully, I did it for me." she admitted. "I can't stand the new WSO I was given in The Black Aces. He annoys the shit outta me. And Bob is nice, but he's not you. His spot should've been for you. It was for you. He was probably called in last minute when you declined."

"I'm sorry I left you hanging. And forced you to adapt to a new wingman."

"It's alright. It's all fixed now. Because Maverick is gonna help you get back out there. And I'm gonna be your advocate however I can." she promised.

Phoenix loosely wrapped her arms around Sweetheart's neck, locking her in and holding her close. Sweetheart instinctively held onto her waist in kind. They looked at each other, slowly pacing themselves as they tested the waters. But they both desperately wanted to jump each other right here right now. The two years apart did nothing to quench their desire for each other. Despite the anger that Phoenix held over those two years, not knowing the truth, she still thought about Sweetheart. It was hard to forget her.

As if they could read each other's mind, they leaned in slowly until their lips finally connected. They fit together like puzzle pieces. They molded against each other like no time had passed since their last kiss. Phoenix stuck her tongue out, parting Sweetheart's lips and allowing her entrance. Their tongues danced around each other in the familiar way they always did. It was sweet. It was soft and slow. Despite the deep longing they had for each other, they were conscious enough to remember their environment and not do something they'll end up regretting.

The kiss felt like it lasted a lifetime. By the time they pulled away, it felt like they had stopped breathing ages ago. They both huffed, trying to get the air back in their lungs.

"God I've missed you." Sweetheart found herself saying. It wasn't meant to be funny, but Phoenix laughed anyway.

"You do realize that I'm never letting you slip through my fingers again, right?"

"I wouldn't put it past you to handcuff me."

"Only if you ask nicely." she winked. This time, Sweetheart laughed out.

"Is that a promise? You already let me down by not bringing rope to the beach."

"I couldn't fit it in my bag." she joked. Maybe.

"Get a bigger bag."

"Or I could just tie you up right now."

"Hmmm. As much as I would love that, you've got more training. And I don't think it's a good idea to miss that after the Captain was so gracious to help us out." she hummed, making Phoenix groan.

"I hate that you're right."

"We'll have time later. You go on. I've got a plane to book." Sweetheart pecked her lips once more, then pushed her back into the hangar. Sweetheart pulled out her cell phone and checked for the earliest flight out of California.

Sweetheart was ready for her send off. After training for the day was complete, Phoenix and Sweetheart ordered everyone to The Hard Deck for Hangman's punishment. Maverick left with a threat that he better honor the bet, and Hangman reluctantly agreed to it.

Phoenix and Sweetheart had grabbed all of the supplies they needed to make him the prettiest girl they ever did see. They did his makeup, put a wig on him, and forced his fat ass into a pair of booty shorts. The entire time, the women were laughing. Hangman was trying to fight against it, but they forced him regardless. With their masterpiece complete, they drug him to The Hard Deck. Phoenix waited outside with him while Sweetheart entered the busy establishment and gathered everyone's attention. She stood on a table and whistled out so everyone could turn their gaze to her. The gaggle of pilots in one corner of the bar were eager to see what was to come next. The other patrons in the bar, and Penny, were just confused.

"Allow me to present tonight's entertainment, courtesy of the United States Navy, Lieutenant Jasmine Seresin!" she announced, and Phoenix yanked on Hangman's arm to bring him in full view of everyone.

Everyone, and she means everyone had cheered him on. They caught onto the joke fairly quickly, people already pulling out dollar bills and handing it to him as he was pulled center 'stage' and forced onto a table. Rooster messed with the jukebox to put on a raunchy song for Hangman to shake his ass to. And shake it he did. Despite the rage evident on his face, he put his all into his impromptu table dance.

People gathered around him, trying to shove dollar bills into his way-too-small jean booty shorts. What couldn't fit, was just left on the table. Sweetheart could see from the corner of her eye Penny resting her face in her hands on the bar top. Did anyone even tell her what was happening? Or was she just as surprised as the patrons when Jake Seresin entered her bar looking like this?

The older woman was too embarrassed to raise her head, but Sweetheart didn't pay her much attention, instead focusing on the lovely dancer she and Phoenix put together. Fanboy came to hand them some beers.

"Thanks for sparing me from this!" he thanked, giving them a one-armed hug.

"Remember this, though. Don't piss us off or else you'll be the next one on the table." threatened Sweetheart.

"I give a Scout's Honor I will never double cross you." he held up his hand in said honor and crossed his heart.

At the end of the song, Hangman was ready to jump down and end his punishment, but the other aviators weren't ready to let him go so soon. Rooster played another song on the jukebox, and the gaggle of pilots circled around him, whooping and hollering for him to dance some more.

This was the send off Sweetheart needed: a good laugh, some beers, and a girlfriend by her side. She didn't expect any of this to happen when she risked it all to face the woman she abandoned two years ago. She was fully prepared to be yelled at, maybe slapped a few times, and told to never show her face ever again. But she got the opposite. Everything worked out in her favor. And maybe it was just dumb luck, or maybe it was the universe trying to tell her something, but she wasn't going to let this go to waste. She was going to take full advantage of it. Like Tasha said, when they're together, they can face the world.