#the woman who i talked with in the grocery store about having a movie night and then calles out “have a great movie night!!”

[nat-20s]

Sorry I have a deep unshakeable and unabashed love of humanity 🙄 as of it's my fault the vast majority of humans are decent people trying to live good lives

[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[vivwritesfics]

Hi, literally dying for more top gun x f1!

Literally anyone for top gun (your choice) x f1!driver reader

And then I maybe like Lando, max or Oscar with a top gun reader

tgm x f1 with a slight twist!!

Jake Seresin was always aware that his best friends had money growing up. Their house was incredibly grand and they got whatever they wanted. It never drove a wedge in their friendship, though. (Not until they were older, at least).

When his best friends little sister started karting, Jake didn't really understand it. His father had enjoyed NASCAR, and that was what he knew. He didn't understand the elegance of the sport she was so desperately trying to get into.

She made it. They'd lost touch for years, but she made it.

Jake sometimes saw her on television, sometimes saw news articles about her, about her career. He didn't expect her to come back to Texas so long after she'd made it, didn't expect to see her in the store, acting like a normal person.

But there she was, buying a pint of milk like her salary wasn't $2000,000.

She looked so different from the last time Jake had seen her. But she had been a teenager then, not the young woman she was now. She'd grown into herself, and Jake was floored.

That little girl who used to chase after Jake and his best friend, demanding they let her play with them, had grown up hot.

She hadn't noticed Jake, not until he was stood behind her at the checkout. She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse. But then she was turning on her heel to look at him. "Jake Seresin?" She asked, voice full of surprise as she looked at him.

Jake said her name in the same way.

"No freaking way," she mumbled as she threw her arms around him. "You got big, Jakey," she said as she pulled back to look at him.

But Jake was looking at her, too. "You..." But he was tongue tied, in a way he wasn't used to. "How long are you back for?" He asked instead, nodding towards the cashier.

"Until the end of August," she explained as she paid for the milk. "What about you? When are you next shipping out."

She knew she was in the navy. How did she knew he was in the navy? His cheeks were pink as he paid for his own groceries. "Have you spoken to my mom by any chance?" He asked as she stood there, milk in hands to talk to him.

"I might have stopped by the ranch," she said, almost coyly. "So, you wanna hang out?"

But it went beyond hanging out while they were both there. It had started out perfectly innocent, getting dinner, catching a movie, all of it as friends.

But that one night at the bar. Slamming tequila shots in a way she hadn't since her win in Spa. She and Jake were positively stumbling over each other as they left the bar. But then he had her pushed against the wall, lips against her own.

Her arms were around his neck, pulling him close as his fingers dug into her side. Neither of them were willing to pull away, kiss positively becoming bruising. "Fuck, Seresin," she hissed against his lips.

They couldn't let it happen again, but it did. Every night until she ended up in his bed. And then that happened every night until she had to go back to the UK.

Neither of them expected it to go any further. Neither of them expected it to get to the point where they were, quite literally, dating. Constantly on the phone to each other, sending memes and pictures through the day.

She knew she had to invite him to a Grand Prix.

Vegas. He made the trip, joined her in her hotel room. She was incredibly late for media duties that day. And, when she made it to the track, her hair was a mess and she was being trailed by her big, hunky boyfriend.

[ashwhowrites]

i’ve had this idea for the longest time but i don’t have the time or skills to write it well>:(

bratty!eddie being jealous of reader being friends with steve. maybe they’re having a game/movie night with friends or even just baking together and steve does something particularly flirty and eddie tries to stand his ground and show that it’s upset him but it manifests in a childish sort of tantrum. (yk, as the lil mf does lmfao) and reader is a little upset with eddie until steve makes an unkind comment about eddie’s reaction, and she’s suddenly defending eddie w her life, cause no one talks about /her/ boy

tldr; i have mommy issues and i projected it onto you. i am so sorry

If there is anyone who loves someone that's got Mommy issues, it's definitely me. Don't feel sorry about projecting it on me ;)

Bratty Eddie is my baby so I'll definitely write it &lt;3

Eddie didn't mind that Y/N had friends...well he did but he wouldn't say that. He wanted to be the only focus her attention was set on. But he understood that isn't always possible. She had a job, she had coworkers, and she had a life outside of Eddie. He didn't relate to that. He breathed her and that was all he needed. He didn't care to have friends or go to work for hours at a desk job. He wanted all his hours devoted to her.

And when she said she was inviting a work friend over for dinner, he promised to be on his best behavior. She made a list of all the things she needed from the store, sending her sweet boy off to run her errand while she went to work.

Eddie didn't want to let her down, so he accepted the list and ran off to the store. Collecting every item she wrote down, blushing at the little descriptions of what the item would look like. He snuck a few candies that definitely were not on the list.

Once he returned home, he put all the groceries away. He started to get their house together, knowing the cleaning part was his to do during the days that she worked. She wanted it extra clean for the guest. Eddie didn't question the guest. He figured it was a woman she worked with and wanted to make a good impression.

He made sure to shower and tie his hair back. Staying clear of smoking any weed or cigarettes to make the house smell funky. He dug through his closet to find his fancier shirts. Grabbing a dark blue button-up and black jeans.

Eddie was putting on his rings when he heard the front door open. A huge smile on his face as he raced to the living room.

"Mommy!" He cheered excitedly, rushing to give her a kiss.

"Hi, baby. You look handsome as ever" she smiled, pecking his lips.

"Thank you," he said shyly, feeling his cheeks turn red.

"Steve is coming in two hours so I have to start dinner right away. You want to help?" She asked, walking into the kitchen to wash her hands.

But Eddie was stuck on the name. Steve sounded like a boy's name. She invited a man over for dinner?

"um, Steve?" Eddie squeaked out. He didn't want to sound as insecure as he felt. Was Steve attractive? Did he like her? How did they meet?

"Yeah! He works at my office. He's training under me for a position so I invited him over to get to know each other." She shrugged like it was no big deal. But Eddie was going off the walls.

"He's training with you? As in he'll be following you around the whole time at work?" Eddie questioned.

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. I'm all yours." She reminded him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

~~~

Turns out Steve was gorgeous and Eddie hated that. He had a pretty boy smile and charming eyes. Eddie grew more nervous as he saw similarities between him and Steve. Dark hair to go with their dark eyes, both have a nerdy sense of humor, and both have that look of adoration in their eyes when they look at Y/N.

If Y/N was attracted to Eddie, there's a big chance she would be attracted to Steve too.

Eddie pouted all throughout dinner. Listening to Steve's countless stories, all of them making him sound like the most perfect man in the world. Eddie hated the way it made him so insecure.

He hated the way Y/N's eyes followed Steve's every move as he told a story, her attention locked in on him.

Once they finished dinner, Steve offered to help with the dishes.....suck up. Eddie always got to help with the dishes.

But Y/N welcomed the help and both worked on the dishes by the kitchen sink. Eddie watched from the table, well watching Steve more than anything.

He hated the way Steve licked his lips as he watched her. The way Steve's eyes looked like they wanted to devour her, with no care that Eddie was sitting right there.

Eddie's last straw was when Y/N accidentally lost her grip on the plate, plunging into the sink and causing the water to splash all over her white shirt. The red lace bra easily shows itself. And easily catches both of the boy's eyes in the room.

"wow Y/N, wear that just for me?" Steve smirked. Y/N assumed it was a careless joke so she laughed and brushed it off. But Eddie took it as pure disrespect. This guy was disrespecting her, their relationship, and him all at once.

"HEY!" Eddie shouted, hitting the table as he stood up.

Y/N quickly looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes told him not to do whatever he was going to do. Steve looked at him confused and that pissed Eddie off more.

"You don't talk to her like that! She didn't wear it for you and she never will." Eddie snapped, crossing his arms to seem more intimidating.

"Just a harmless joke, man," Steve said, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm.

"It's not harmless. You are making comments about her body. That's not a body you get to admire! It's mine!" Eddie pouted, losing his intimidation immediately when he stomped his foot.

Y/N let out a big sigh, knowing exactly what an Eddie stomp let to. He was seconds away from a tantrum.

"Baby, let's relax before you get upset." She said softly. Wiping the soap off of her hands before she walked over to him.

She kissed his pouty lips, keeping her voice low as she spoke against his lips, "Head to bed and I'll be right there and we'll talk."

Eddie huffed but accepted her order. Uncrossing his arms and shuffling out of the room.

She took a deep breath when she heard the bedroom door slam hard.

"I'm sorry about that." She apologized, walking back over to Steve.

"Sorry about his little hissy fit? He's like a man-child." Steve snickered

But Y/N didn't find anything funny.

"He was upset and he had a right to be. Your comment shouldn't have been made and especially not in front of my boyfriend. You disrespected him in his own house. And now? You disrespected me by talking about him like that. You can get the hell out of my house." She snapped. Stomping over to the front door and yanking it open.

"Look, it was a joke! I didn't mean to upset anyone" Steve tried to explain.

"Well, you did. We'll talk at the office but right now, please leave" she ordered. And just like Eddie would, Steve followed her order in seconds. Grabbing his jacket as he walked himself out the door.

Before she closed the door she called his name, "And Steve?" He turned around, "If you ever talk about him like that again, I won't hesitate to get your ass fired." Then she slammed the door.

~~~

"Baby?" Eddie turned his head as he heard a soft knock on the bedroom door.

"Open, Mommy," he said, turning his head back to face the wall when she walked in.

She crawled onto the bed, grabbing his small waist as she turned him on his back. His red puppy eyes stare at the ceiling.

"You want to talk about it?" She whispered, moving her hand to undo the bottom buttons of his shirt. Exposing his tummy as she began to draw small circles against the skin.

Eddie hummed at the comfortable feeling.

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you." He whispered, eyes still on the ceiling.

"you didn't, baby. You had every right to put him in his place." She reassured him.

"Why did you send me away then?" He asked, this time looking down at her.

"I wanted you to calm yourself down, that's all," She said, giving him a small smile as she finally was able to make eye contact.

"Not embarrassed of me?" He whispered, his hand moving down to land on hers. Now causing her hand to rest against his stomach.

"Never," she said, moving up to kiss his lips. He kissed her back instantly, loving how safe he felt underneath her touch.

She pulled away and stared at him for a few seconds. Sensing something in his head as he kept looking down at her bra.

"You want to cum on it, don't you?" She laughed. Eddie blushed immediately, she could feel the hand on hers get wet with sweat.

"a little" he squeaked out, hips wiggling when her free hand moved to unbutton his black jeans.

"after all, it is your bra" she teased.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingwicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

Bratty Eddie tags

@simping-over-boys-with-trauma @capricornrisingsstuff @somnialol @buginnettesstuff @thegemaqua @skyline4446

@bunnyweasley23 @leahhs-things

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

elmax canon divergence + traumas + fluffy + pre relationship (max and el pov)

After the events at Starcourt, Max starts to hate horror films, and even action films, and refuses to watch them, but when Eleven finds herself interested in movies like Labyrinth, Max can't say no and takes her to the cinema to watch it.

Despite the apprehension and anxiety she is feeling, Max does her best to remain by El's side throughout the film, even buying her popcorn, candy and soda.

There's nothing special about the film, and the effects are... well... poor, for lack of a better word, but at one point, Max finds herself bolting from the room and hiding in the bathroom, with her head between her legs while trying to breathe.

"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real." she repeats while holding the sides of her head and closing her eyes, trying not to cry.

The next moment El enters the bathroom, softly calling for Max until she finds her in one of the stalls and slowly kneels in front of her, but without touching her.

"Max, I'm here." El says, softly and patiently.

She waits until Max lifts her head, and when their eyes meet, she offers a sympathetic smile. A smile that says more than any words she could say, if she were articulate enough.

They stay there for a few minutes, until Max calms down enough and then El asks "what happened?"

"Nothing, it was just something stupid." Max says, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

El takes her hands gently and places them on her knees, gently wiping away Max's tears.

"Joyce says it's okay if we don't want to talk, but it's better when we do." El says as she gently brushes Max's cheeks, wet and streaked with tears.

Max looks at her for a while, deciding what to do, but that's El, her best friend, the only person who understands her and doesn't judge her, and who has let her sleep in her room almost every night since that day. 

El, who holds her at night when Max wakes up screaming from her nightmares and don’t ask about it because she knows Max won’t talk, El who strokes her hair and stays awake until she sleeps again, El who lost Hopper, and despite living with the Byers, who are good people, has once again been thrown into a place that is not her home.

Max takes a deep breath and looks at Eleven. "I- I can't watch these movies anymore, El, I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me-"

"I thought I could, and you wanted to see this movie so bad and we barely have any places left to go after-" Max shakes her head, new tears running down her face.

"Max." Eleven says firmly but gently. "Jonathan says we don't have to do anything that makes us un-" She frowns, trying to remember the word. "Uncomfortable. That's it."

"But you wanted to see the movie and I thought I could handle it, but I ended up ruining it, El. I'm sorry."

Eleven says nothing. She knows Max well enough now that words won't do any good, so she does the only thing that seems to calm Max these days; she hugs her.

She breathes a sigh of relief when Max doesn't resist, and leans against her, wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her head on her chest. El closes her eyes, fighting back her own tears as she runs her fingers through Max's hair. 

They stay there until the noise of conversations and footsteps fills the place announcing the end of the film. El gets up and helps Max up. They wash their hands and faces, and El takes Max's hand as they leave the bathroom.

They walk out of the cinema and onto the main street, to the store where Joyce works. As they enter the store, El smiles at Joyce, and that woman seems to have an inexplicable sense of things, because the smile she gives El immediately says that she noticed that Max is not well, and Eleven is very grateful for that.

"Can Max sleep over today?"

"Of course, darling."

Eleven nods and waits for Joyce to get the car keys. They help Joyce close the store and stop by the grocery store before heading home.

They help Joyce prepare dinner and this seems to help improve Max's mood. Will is at Mike's house with the party playing another endless game of D&D and Jonathan is with Nancy, so El and Max sit with Joyce in the living room to watch one of those shows she likes.

When the episode ends, Joyce gets up and announces that she is going to sleep, but says that the girls can continue watching TV if they want. She strokes their hair as she passes, and El smiles, settling on the couch next to Max.

"Do you want to keep watching TV or would you rather do something else?" Eleven asks after a few minutes.

Max shrugs, feeling drained after what happened at the movie theater. She wants to stay up with El, watching TV, listening to music or reading magazines, but she feels like she doesn't have the energy for any of that right now. 

She sighs gratefully when El just strokes her hair again and stands up, extending a hand to her and guiding them to her room.

Max feels her thoughts starting to wander again, down a path she doesn't like, but she can't help it.

Eleven is in the shower, and Max closes her eyes, trying to focus on the good memories she has; the winter ball, movies with the boys, shopping with El, eating ice cream with El, reading magazines to El...

She is brought out of her thoughts when the bedroom door opens and Eleven walks in, smiling. Max adjusts herself on the bed, making room for El.

"Thanks for today." Max says after they are lying down for a while.

Eleven nods and opens her arms for Max to settle against her, and she does so without saying anything, grateful that Eleven doesn't pressure her.

Max closes her eyes, feeling sleep and tiredness take over her body, and the last thing she remembers before falling asleep is Eleven kissing the top of her head and murmuring "I'm here, Max."

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Work Wife

A/N- I’m slowly starting to get back into loving Gareth again after my breakup, and though i’m still trying to get better and heal from it, i think if i try my best to work on fics for him it’ll make me feel better 🥰 (cause i know Gareth would treat me right 😍)

Summary- You have a pretty close relationship with your coworker Gareth, and you don’t realize you have a crush on him until another coworker finally gives you a label.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

Words- 4.8k

“I’m sorry… you’d fuck the toxic avenger?”

“Are you kidding?!” You nearly shouted at Gareth from your place behind the register, “Of course i would, he’s the good guy, and he’s like the sweetest guy in the whole movie.”

“I don’t know, something about him just turns me off…” Gareth shrugged at his spot at the end of the checkout lane, his hands fidgeting with the paper bags in front of him to make it seem like he was working.

“Oh, but Seth ‘fingernails falling off, acid vomiting, insect-man’ Brundle turns you on?” You giggled.

“Come on! It’s Jeff Goldblum, i think you can cut me some slack for that.”

“Yeah, i guess you’re right.”

You and Gareth were bored at work once again during another one of your shared 8 hour shifts at Bradley’s, and just like usual your conversation turned from talking about cheesy horror flicks to another game of ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’.

Your friendship was definitely strange, at least it seemed strange when you tried to describe it to other people. You were best friends at work and though you had gone to the same school and even had a few classes in the past all of your conversations outside of your shifts had just been small talk with one another. But once the two of you were on the clock together you were inseparable

You’d talk like you’d known each other for years, pick on one another, and whenever you could you tried to make it seem like every task was a two person job.

Trash run? You needed Gareth to help you lift the heavy bags into the dumpster.

Restocking the freezers? If you were helping Gareth it would go by twice as fast if it was just himself doing it.

Stuck at the register? Well someone had to be at the end to help bag all the customers groceries.

Each and every time you two shared a shift you knew it was going to be fun. He just made the day go by so much faster when he was there with you.

You had been there for a few months prior to him getting hired, you were even the one who trained him, but for some reason you just took a liking to one another. It was nice to be able to work with someone you considered a friend. Even though you rarely spoke when the uniforms were off.

Your conversation at the register was soon interrupted by the sound of someone pulling their cart into your lane, and though the two of you often complained afterwards about having to actually work at your job, your managers knew that putting the two of you together meant that you would always get everything done quickly and correctly.

You gave the older woman a smile and quickly scanned her items, sliding them down to Gareth to bag them up for her.

“Alright, it’s going to be $43.26.”

She handed you a few bills and you quickly grabbed her change, giving her a smile and a wave and Gareth doing the same before turning back to you,

“We’re you even paying attention to what she was buying?” He said with a laugh.

“No?” You said giggling back, “Was i supposed to?”

“That lady was buying Vaseline, condoms, Kleenex, and one of those home life magazines with all the recipes in it.”

The two of you were giggling at the thought of you not even paying attention to notice the strange things she had bought, and at this time of night.

It had been dark out for a few hours and the stores hours changing to be open later during the summer were nice in theory, more hours always means more money, but it definitely brought in a few weirdos evert now and then after dark.

You glanced over at the clock on the wall to check the time.

6:34 pm.

Almost halfway finished with your shift.

You sighed and looked back over to Gareth,

“Still got another five and a half hours until 11.”

Gareth smiled and looked around to see if any of your other coworkers could see the two of you, watching as they continued on with their shifts before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a lighter and what looked to be a pill bottle, though there was no pills inside to be seen. Only a few pre-rolls and some smaller bits of flower stuck near the bottom.

“I think we’ll be fine after our break.” He said with a smile, raising his eyebrows at you before slipping the lighter and bottle back into his pocket.

“Oh thank god,” You said with a smile, leaning over the counter and resting your body onto your elbows to whisper to Gareth without the threat of your managers hearing, “i cant be here another 5 hours sober.”

You smiled at one another and took another look around the store, trying to see if your manager was lurking around. More often than not, if there was a late shift that the two of you shared, during your breaks you’d chill together in one of your cars with some snacks you ‘borrowed’ while your manager wasn’t looking and smoke together. It was a nice little pick me up during all those boring shifts, and needless to say whenever Gareth supplied it always made the rest of the night a little more fun.

“Want to see if they’ll let us go early?” You asked, giving him puppy dog eyes to help convince him to take your side and ask the manager on shift if they’ll let the two of you take your break just a little earlier than normal.

He smiled and rolled his eyes, knowing that meant he would be the one to ask,

“Fine, but we’re doing it in your car this time.

“Works for me!” You smiled and as Gareth walked past you, you quickly grabbed his arm to get his attention, “Want anything? I was gonna grab some chips or something.”

“Yeah, grab me some cherry sours if they have them.”

“Got it.”

You smiled and glanced around the store. No customers. The perfect opportunity to sneak a few aisles over and grab your snacks, just hoping that if your coworkers caught you you’d be able to talk them out of snitching to your manager.

As you saw Gareth walk into the managers office you quickly ran over and saw that one of your other work friends was thankfully stocking the candy aisle. You approached them with a smile and and stood before them as they were kneeled on the floor, placing boxes of charleston chews and bags of jelly beans into their proper places on the shelves,

“Hey, i think a bag of cherry sours accidentally got lost today,” You leaned over and grabbed one of the small bags of the little red candies, hiding them under your shirt, “you know where they went?”

They smiled to you and went back to restocking the shelves,

“Nope. No idea.”

You smirked and took a glance down the end of the aisle, spotting a display with a few bags of chips on it,

“I think a bag of ruffles might’ve gotten lost too, right?”

“Sure.” They said with a laugh, “You sneaking some snacks for you and your little work husband during your break?”

You stood there for a moment and shot them a confused look, thinking over the little nickname they had given to Gareth,

“Work husband?” You said with a laugh, “What do you mean?”

“Are you kidding? I see the way you guys always are always together doing something here, it’s rare to find you two apart. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute to see how you act around each other but fuck, you guys need to stop making it so obvious.”

They were right, and you knew they were right too. You and Gareth were barely apart during your shifts and you were always around one another, goofing off or making every task a two person job, but having to hear someone on the outside tell you about what they noticed when witnessing your friendship was a little eye opening. Though you were still confused at what they were hinting at,

“Making what obvious? What are you talking about?”

“You mean to tell me you don’t know that you like each other?”

You pondered their statement for a moment as you stood in the middle of the aisle.

It had never crossed your mind that maybe you might’ve had a little crush on Gareth, and though he was sweet and funny and a little dorky, there was never a time you could remember when you had thought about having a crush on him. Maybe it was just how the two of you acted with each other, like your coworker had said, it was rare to see the two of you apart.

And then the little things started to creep back into your thoughts.

Always getting a little giddy seeing your names next to one another on the schedule when you were working the same shift. Paying attention to his laugh or his smile when you were having another one of your regular work conversations, playing ‘fuck, marry, kill’ with all the horror creatures you could think of or trying to see how long it would take for your managers to notice you had stocked all the cereal boxes backwards on the shelf, or even when you were picking on one another for working just a little too hard at your job. The way he would always sweet talk the managers to let you take your breaks early or get an extra 10 minutes just to spend more time with you, sharing a joint in his car while whatever cassette he was listening to played in the background while you enjoyed one another’s company. Now that you were thinking about it, he did get a little more touchy than normal when you were smoking together. It was nothing that would make you uncomfortable, but you noticed he would always move a little closer next to you on the bench seat, resting his head onto your shoulder as soon as he started to feel more relaxed which always ended up with your arm around his shoulder and your fingers playing with his soft curls.

Did he have a crush on you?

Or more importantly, did you have a crush on him, and just not notice it?

“It’s not like that, we’re just…” You tried to think of the right word for your relationship, and though you knew ‘work husband’ and ‘work wife’ described it perfectly, you knew the sound of it would make you blush, “friends.”

Your coworker laughed to themselves,

“I don’t know (y/n), you hesitated a bit on that.”

“We are!” You giggled, “We’re just friends, i swear.”

“Well, maybe you should have a talk with him about it on your break.” They shrugged and you turned your head as you heard footsteps approaching you down the aisle, thankful it was only Gareth coming back from talking with the manager, “i see how he looks at you, talk to him.”

You smiled to Gareth and tried to ignore your coworkers comments as he approached closer to you with a smile on his face,

“We’re good to go on our break,” He waved to your other coworker as they continued on with stocking and handed you your jacket, “here, it’s cold out, i figured i’d grab it while i was back there. And i managed to talk them into letting us take an extra 10 minutes if we get all the freezers restocked after.”

You took it with a smile and checked your pockets for your car keys, your coworker glancing up at you from their place on the floor with a smirk. You lightly kicked their foot and nodded Gareth to follow you through the aisle, making sure to grab a bag of ruffles from the stand before sneaking out the back door to your car. The chilly fall wind blew through Gareths hair and you giggled as he tried to brush it out of his eyes once you reached your car.

You unlocked your side and quickly got in, reaching over to pull the lock and let Gareth in next to you. The keys were put into the ignition and you switched the car on, fixing the heat as Gareth sifted through the collection of tapes you kept in your car, holding one up as he flicked the inside light on,

“Iron Maiden?”

He glanced over at you as you pulled your jacket off once you were well adjusted to the heat and untied your apron from around your waist, setting the chips down between you on the bench seat,

“Yeah sure, just as long as you don’t sing every word.” You said with a giggle.

“You know i can’t make any promises like that.”

Gareth smiled and put the tape into the radio, rewinding it just a bit and pressing play.

The music played softly, and though you tried to focus on the song, your mind was racing. All you could think about was what your coworker had said to you and the current situation you were in.

You and Gareth were alone, it was quiet, a good song playing in the background while he fished out the lighter and the bottle from his pocket. It wasn’t like this was something brand new to you two, in fact this was the third time this week where you had been in a situation like this, but after getting the thought into your head of not knowing if you had a crush on him or not it felt so much more different.

“You alright?” Gareth said to you as he passed you the already lit joint between his fingers.

“Yeah! Yeah, i’m fine…” You said with a smile as you took the joint and placed it between your lips, feeling slightly embarrassed as you took a drag and blew the smoke out of your cracked window, not knowing he had caught you zoning out to the thought of him.

“Alright, if you say so.” He said with a smile and settled into his seat, “You remembered my cherry sours right?”

You quickly nodded after your second hit and passed it back to him, lifting up your shirt slightly and tossing him the bag from underneath,

“You know i never forget our snacks, and i’m offended that you even thought i would.”

You shared a laugh with one another before he took a hit and opened the bag, holding it out towards you to offer you first grab. You reached in and took a few, popping them into your mouth and scrunching your nose up as soon the sour hit your tongue. You glanced over to Gareth and watched as he poured a few from the bag into his mouth, making you giggle,

“Christ, how do you eat them like that?”

He shot you a strange look as he was chewing, swallowing a few to get a sentence out,

“What do you mean? They’re delicious.”

“Oh i’m not arguing that they’re not delicious, but they’re so sour, and you just ate like 10 with no issues,” You snatched the joint from his fingers and took a quick hit, “you keep eating them like that and your tongue is gonna get all torn up.”

Gareth shrugged and poured a few more into his mouth as you took another hit,

“Well if my tongue is gonna get all torn up then so be it, cause i refuse to stop eating them.”

You giggled again and as he swallowed his second mouthful you handed the joint back to him, watching as he took the filter between his fingers and brought it to his lips, stained a light red from the cherry candies. You knew your staring would make you blush and you quickly looked out the window, staring up at the night sky to try and distract yourself from thinking of Gareth’s lips and how sweet they must taste.

Your eyes darted around the deep dark sky, looking over all the stars and trying to focus on finding the constellations before you felt a tap on your knee, snapping you out of your trance,

“(y/n)!” Gareth said, almost shouting at you, with a smile. The joint was held out to you and you took it between your fingers once again.

“Sorry, i just got a little distracted…” You placed it between your lips and took a long drag, noticing that Gareth had moved the bag of chips between you on the seat and inched closer to you. A telltale sign that he was definitely high, and he was definitely looking to feed how touch starved he was.

“You feeling alright?” He asked as you took another hit.

“Yeah, im fine.” You blew the smoke out of the cracked window and offered the joint back to him, which at this point had almost been burned to its end, “Why?”

“Because you’re not,” He said with a laugh, taking one last hit before flicking the roach out the window, “and i know you’re not. You’re being too quiet and usually you’re never able to shut up when we smoke.”

You smiled and playfully kicked at his leg,

“Shut up! That’s not true!”

“It is! You know how we act when we’re high, i get touchy and you ramble, that’s how it’s always been and now i can’t seem get you to want to talk to me. Everything was fine before we came out here, did something happen?”

You shook your head and pursed your lips,

“Nope. Nothing happened.”

Gareth leaned back into his seat, moving his hands into his lap like he was scared to be close to you,

“Did i do something?” You could hear the fear in his voice, and usually it was apparent when Gareth was scared, especially after a bad high and you’ve seen how he’s acted when he was like that. But this was different, and you could tell it was a different kind of fear, like he was nervous he had done something or said something to make the friendship you had beforehand shift.

“No!” You reached out and gently held your hand over his to reassure him that this wasn’t something he had caused, “You didn’t do anything at all, i promise.”

“Then what is it?”

You hesitated for a few moments, nervous to bring up what was really on your mind. This was something that you knew had to be brought up eventually, you just weren’t prepared for it to happen so quickly,

“It’s just…” You looked down at your hand still over his, and Gareth could tell that you were nervous. He moved his hands in his lap as he inched closer to you on the bench seat, gently taking your hand into his.

“It’s alright (y/n) you can tell me. I mean, it can’t be that bad can it?”

You knew he was just trying to make you better, and though you didn’t want to have to confront your possible feelings for Gareth tonight, you knew it had to happen wether you wanted it to or not.

“It’s not. It’s just that…” You took a deep breath trying to compose yourself before having a conversation as difficult as this. The fear wasn’t coming from having to talk to him about your feelings for one another, or lack thereof, but it was from saying something that could possibly ruin the friendship you two had. You didn’t want this to be the reason you lost your best friend.

“When i was inside getting our snacks, someone said something about us. It just got me thinking, you know?”

Gareth moved closer to you, and you looked back up to him as your thighs touched,

“What do you mean? Thinking bad, or thinking good?”

“I don’t know… I guess it could be both.” You said with a gentle laugh.

“What did they say?”

“They said…” You took another deep breath and started to play with Gareths fingers as his hand still stayed in yours to distract yourself a bit, “they said something about us. About how the way we acted with each other was cute and that i was like your ‘work wife’ and you were my ‘work husband’. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

Gareth smirked and looked at your hands intertwined with one another, watching your fingers still playing with his as a gentle blush spread across his cheeks. It may have been dark but you knew him better than that, and you could tell when he was a little flustered, though his silence was a bit worrying.

“Alright, now you’re being too quiet and it’s starting to scare me a little.”

He looked back up to you, a smile still on his lips,

“I mean, that is a cute way to put it.”

You shared a laugh and you smiled, feeling the weight lift off of your shoulders, thankful that Gareths reaction was a positive one,

“I’m just glad you don’t think it’s weird, i feel like i was overthinking the whole thing.”

“Overthinking? About what?”

You shrugged and looked back down at his hand in yours,

“Just us, i guess. Especially because of what they were saying.”

He inched himself closer into you, your sides pressed together, and though this was something normal for you it felt different now that you were talking about your friendship, or whatever it was that you could call your relationship.

“What else were they saying?”

“More stuff about us. Things they noticed.” You said with a little smile, recalling all the little moments you had shared with Gareth since you had started doing your shifts together, “They said that they saw how we act with each other, how were always together, and that they sometimes catch you looking at me a certain way.”

You looked back up to Gareths face and saw that he had his head slightly tilted down, the gentle blush that once covered his cheeks was darker and much more apparent, though it wasn’t out of embarrassment or nervousness. The bashful smile on his lips made it apparent that he knew his feelings were found out, and your eyes widened at your sudden realization.

All of the things your coworker had said were true.

The way Gareth acted around you, how he always went out of his way to make you laugh or smile during even the most frustrating parts of your shift, always being a gentleman around you even when he was high and bit more touchy than usual. It made perfect sense. It was clear to you that he had feelings for you, but somehow you still weren’t sure of your feelings for him.

You tilted your head down just a bit to get a better look at his face,

“Do you like me Gare?”

His eyes moved first to meet your gaze before he slowly looked back up to you, a shy smile still on his lips as he nodded.

You smiled back to him, your thumb moving over the back of his hand as you felt your cheeks warm up at the thought of finally confirming Gareths crush on you.

It was strange.

This was the first time that someone you knew you liked, a guy that was sweet and funny and honest, someone that was your friend that you could trust confirmed that they had feelings for you. It felt like you were back in grade school, starting to get those little crushes on your classmates that you saw every day and get shyer and shyer around them until you got too nervous to say anything. And yet, you still couldn’t be sure of your feelings for him.

You knew you liked him, you loved having him as your friend and as someone that you could trust and talk to about anything and everything, but in regards to romance you just couldn’t be certain until you figured it out for yourself.

“Do you like me too?” Gareth asked, the nervousness in his tone coming back as he looked to your face for any sign of a reaction.

You looked down at your hands, your thumb still slowly caressing the back of his hand,

“I don’t know… I mean, i know that i like you as a person. I love having you as my friend, and i love talking to you and seeing you and being able to spend time with you, and don’t get me wrong i think you’re very cute. I just don’t know if i have those kind of feelings for you, even though i feel like i should.”

Gareth understood exactly what you were saying.

You did really like each other as people, and as friends, and even he had a difficult time convincing himself that he had a crush on you when he first realized it. You both were scared of possibly ruining the friendship that had sparked between you, and it was scary to think about one wrong move or sentence ruining a friendship like that.

“It’s alright if you don’t (y/n). If you don’t like me like that then i’m ok with it, just as long as we can still be friends. I still like you as a person, that’s never going to change.”

You looked back up to him and smiled, and your thoughts were racing in your head. You were fine with just being friends but you needed some kind of closure to confirm wether or not you really had feelings for him.

He was someone you loved having as a friend, but maybe he would work better with you as a boyfriend instead of just a work friend.

“Can i…” You hesitated for a moment, a pit of fear forming in your stomach from the thought of your next few words ruining your friendship, “Can i kiss you? Just to make sure.”

His eyes went wide, the blush on his cheeks becoming darker than before,

“You’re sure that’s what you want? It’s not just the weed talking right? You’re sentient enough to think straight?”

“Yes, i promise it’s not the weed. I want to. I want to know if it’s right for me to feel that way about you. I’m done being confused.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Gareth turned his body towards yours, your hands separating as his went to carefully hold your waist and yours were draped over his shoulders.

You took a deep breath and inched closer to him,

“If i do this, and it doesn’t feel right, it’s not going to ruin us being friends right?”

“Not if you don’t want it to ruin it. If it feels wrong then i promise i won’t ever bring it up. We can just forget it ever happened and when we go back to work we go back to how we were beforehand.”

You pursed your lips and nodded gently,

“And if i don’t feel the same after, it won’t hurt your feelings?”

“Of course not. Well, it might hurt for a little bit, but as long as we can still be friends afterwards then i’ll be ok with it. I’d just be happy to still have you as a friend.”

A gentle smile spread over your lips as you nodded again, taking one last deep breath as your eyes wandered over Gareths face, and he was doing the same.

As your gaze finally fell to his lips, you slowly inched yourself closer into him, your lips gently grazing one another’s as Gareth waited for you to initiate it. Without a second thought, your lips pressed to his, gently taking his bottom lip between yours and the feeling was nothing short of breathtaking.

He held you so gently, his hair felt so soft between your fingers, and the taste of his lips felt so sweet as they were against yours.

This was right.

This was perfect.

This had finally confirmed the feelings you had been so afraid to admit to yourself.

You didn’t just like Gareth, you loved him.

You loved your best friend.

And he loved you back.

As your lips parted, you felt a rush of air enter your lungs, your hands still around Gareths neck as your fingers played with the ends of a few of the curls on the back of his neck. His hands had a firm grip on your waist, his thumbs slowly caressing your sides as you held one another close, your foreheads pressed together as you tried to recollect yourselves after the rush of emotions that had been made apparent after your kiss.

Gareth knew exactly what you were feeling, and knowing that this moment had been one he was waiting weeks and weeks for he was happy to know that what you felt for him was the same way he felt for you.

One of his hands moved up to hold your cheek as he brought you back into him, kissing you deeper than before, and you could feel him smile as his lips were against yours.

Thank god he had talked the manager into giving you those extra 10 minutes.

[callsignspark]

bumping into each other. mary and bradley

anon! you are so galaxy-brained for knowing that I wanted someone to send this one to me.

you'll be in my heart

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, fluffy with the tiniest bit of angst, this is set before they're together but they're already friends, also you don’t need to read Mar[r]y Me to read and understand this but you should anyway, also for your reference this takes place between part 2 and part 3/3.5 of the main storyline!

word count: 3.7k

note: happy Friday everyone! please enjoy this one which is dedicated to @gretagerwigsmuse who gave me this idea eons ago but I couldn't find a place for it in the main story!

The Bronco is peaceful and quiet. Or it had been until Bradley started humming along to some 90’s country song, half mumbling the words like a bad duet with the woman singing about the Fourth of July. It had been the week from hell, and this passenger seat was the last place she wanted to be.

“Will you shut up?! God, you’re so annoying!”

“You don’t like Martina McBride, kiddo?”

“You don’t like Martina McBride?” She mocks him, making her voice high-pitched and whiny. “I don’t care who it is, just stop singing!”

She watches him sigh, gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. “Listen, I know this isn’t how you want to spend your Friday night, but please remember that this is a punishment for me, too. And given your options, I’m the lesser of two evils.”

“Oh! Please explain how you are my best option tonight.”

“If you had to go with Mav, you would be sitting around Wood’s house listening to the stories of their glory days while they get drunk! About how they used to pull women and all the dangerous maneuvers they did! So I think going to the grocery store and spending the night at my place is a much better option! At least I won’t tell you that you can’t go on your phone or watch a movie! And I’m certainly not going to make you listen to my best combat stories!”

She folds her arms and sinks down in the seat, muttering, “That’s because most of them are still classified.”

“Well! Yeah! But even if I could talk about it, I still wouldn’t make you listen to the time Phoenix, and I managed to-”

“Oh, Bradley, please!”

“I’m just kidding, Amelia! Geez!” He laughs, making the turn into the grocery store parking lot. “What did you do to piss your mom off anyway?”

“It’s so stupid! I forgot to clean the bathroom when I was supposed to.”

“Kiddo…”

“Okay! Okay! She may have told me to do it like five times, and I forgot until we were about to have Aunt Sarah over for dinner. But I had a big test on Wednesday, so I asked Mav to do it, and he didn’t do it either!”

Bradley parks, reaching into the backseat to grab a few of the reusable bags strewn on the floor.

“Why do you have so many reusable bags everywhere?”

“I- uh-” Amelia’s eyes narrow when he fumbles around, stuttering over his words for no reason. “My friend won them in a raffle and gave some to me because there were so many.”

“Your friend?” She deadpans, knowing he’s hiding something. He doesn’t have friends outside of the Daggers.

“Mmhm. Yup.” His head bobs like a puppet on a string, furthering her suspicions until it hits her.

So she waits until he’s about halfway out the door, hoping he gets so flustered he’ll trip. “This friend wouldn’t happen to be that pretty friend of yours that you have a crush on, would it?”

“How do you know about Mary?” He doesn’t trip, but when he pops his head back in the car, his face is a combination of shocked and scared.

“Her name is Mary?! That’s pretty! Do you have a picture of her?” Amelia bounces out of the car, slamming it behind her.

“Amelia…”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to close it that hard! But can I please see her? Please? You know Mav doesn’t know how to work Facebook, and Mom wouldn’t tell me her name so I could look her up!”

He sighs as he grabs a cart from the corral, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “Only if you promise to not like any photos or do anything weird like friend request her.”

“Can we have pizza for dinner?”

She giggles in his face as Bradley blinks at her. “Only if you verbally promise me that you’re not going to be weird.”

“Promise. Now gimme!” Amelia snatches the phone as soon as he offers it, eyes glued to the profile of the woman her step-brother-god-son-in-law has a crush on.

“I’m being outmaneuvered by a teenager…” She hears him mutter under his breath before he tugs her close to the cart. “Hey! We’re in a parking lot; please pay attention so you don’t get run over! I’m not spending the night in the emergency room.”

“Sorry, Bradley.” She grabs his elbow and lets him guide her inside, her attention on the phone but knowing he’ll keep her safe.

He parks her and the cart in front of the bakery counter, getting a loaf of sourdough sliced before finally asking the question she can feel him holding back.

“So, what do you think of her?”

Amelia looks up, a snarky remark ready to fly when she sees his face. She hasn’t seen him this nervous and twitchy since the two of them were left to their own devices in Mav’s hangar after that mission a few years ago.

Holy shit, he really likes this girl.

“She’s really pretty, Bradley. She seems funny. I thought you said her name was Mary?”

“That’s her nickname; her full name is Mariella. Isn’t that pretty?”

“It is pretty.” You absolute simp. “Why haven’t you asked her out yet?”

He grimaces, directing them towards the bagged lettuce and tucking his phone away. “It’s a bit complicated. For starters, I don’t know if she’s interested. Which normally wouldn’t be a huge concern for me, but we have the same friend group, so I don’t want to make it awkward.”

She nods, appreciating how he never treats her like a dumb kid and explains things to her. “That seems like a very fixable problem.”

“It is, theoretically, but it gets a bit more complicated because we do work together, and she’s not Navy, so I’m not sure what the fraternization rules are.”

“Why don’t you just ask Mav? Don’t get that peach; look at that big bruise on it. Isn’t it part of his job to know those rules? And he could probably give you some advice.”

Bradley sets the bruised fruit to the side, choosing a better-looking one. “You want me to ask the man who is an enormous gossip and took over thirty years to get his shit together with your mom?”

Amelia blinks at him. “You should ask Warlock. He’d probably be better.”

“I think I’ll avoid talking to any of the admirals about it until there’s something to talk about. Alright, to the cereal aisle. Yes, you can push; just be careful.”

She heads out of the produce section, smiling that he knows her so well. “Hey, what did you do to make Mom mad? She didn’t tell me, just that I was spending the night with you.”

“I mowed over her new rose bush because Mav didn’t put up the little fence around it before I started.”

“We both got in trouble because of Mav. Why isn’t he being punished?”

“Don’t worry, if I know your mom like I think I know your mom, he’s definitely in trouble.” He rolls his eyes and puts a box of Cheerios in the cart. “Okay, pick out a fun cereal for me.”

“Fruity pebbles, duh. Now, onto chips!”

Amelia takes off, not running but still moving too fast for a grocery store at 5:30 on a Friday evening. She rounds the corner for the chip aisle and runs into a woman carrying a basket.

“I’m sorry!” She blurts it out over the woman telling her it’s okay, so flustered and embarrassed that she almost hit a stranger with their half-full cart.

Wait, isn’t that-

“Amelia! You gotta watch out! This is what I was talking about when we were driving last weekend!”

“You’re letting her drive? She looks a little young, Bradley.”

“Mary?”

Amelia watches in amazement as her normally calm and collected pseudo-brother starts blushing. Her head whips towards the stranger, who is no longer a stranger.

“Mary?!” She asks excitedly; the kind woman she almost ran over is Bradley’s crush!

And she’s even prettier in person!

Amelia admires the freckles dotting her cheeks and the cute earrings being shown off with her hair pulled back in a claw clip.

“Mary!” She says her own name, throwing her hands out in a ta-da move.

Oh, she is funny!

“Hi, I’m Amelia, his step-sister-by-marriage-twice-removed.” She shakes Mary’s hand, beaming when the older woman laughs at her joke. “Thank you. Bradley never thinks that’s funny.”

“That’s because it’s not.” Amelia turns around and sticks her tongue out at him, where he’s leaning against their cart. “Amelia is Penny’s daughter, which makes her not related to me at all but still occasionally my responsibility.”

“He says that like it’s some burden for him, like we’re not gonna eat pizza and gossip until he falls asleep on the couch at 8:30, with a World War II documentary on the TV.”

“You are just as funny as I thought you’d be.”

“You know me?”

“Of course I do! Your mom has told me all about you! Plus, you’re hanging on Mav’s wall, and Bradley’s got a photo of you on his desk.” Amelia watches Mary smile, crinkles appearing by her eyes, and she feels her heart warm.

She didn’t know that Mav and Bradley had photos of her in their offices. Her own dad doesn’t even have a photo of her. He has photos of his new family, though, she thinks bitterly before tucking the thought away.

“What photo do you have up?” She turns and demands.

Bradley rolls his eyes, straightening up from the cart. “It’s that photo of the four of us at your eighth-grade graduation last year.”

“It’s right next to the Dagger Squad official photo. It’s very sweet.” Mary adds.

“Oh, well, that’s Bradley. So sweet.”

“Knock it off or no more driving lessons.”

She wants to tell him to stop flexing; she can practically see him straining to make his arms look as big as possible. But she can’t take the risk of no dessert after dinner.

“You shouldn’t be teaching me to drive yet anyway. I’m only 14.”

“You’re almost 15! Besides, Mav was teaching me to drive at your age. It’s fine.”

“Fifteen isn’t even old enough to get your permit.”

“Behave, or I’m taking your phone away like Penny told me to.”

“Yes, Dad.” She exaggerates the name, knowing it annoys him.

Bradley slaps a hand over his eyes. “Please stop doing that. People are going to think I’m actually your dad.”

“Well, I mean, you are old enough to be my dad. You’re like, what, 53 now?”

Bradley makes incredulous eye contact with Mary, who has been watching the entire interaction with her hand over her mouth to muffle a laugh. “I’m 36, you little shit, and if you were my kid, I would have been 22 when you were born, Amelia.”

“People have kids younger than that,” Mary interjects, unable to stop the laugh at Bradley’s betrayed face.

“See! Mary gets it!”

“Mary is the same age as me, so she knows that having kids that young is possible but probably not a super great idea.”

“Actually, I’m 33, so I’m younger than you.”

“Oh my god, am I older than everyone?”

Amelia bounces over to the cart, patting Bradley’s shoulder where he’s dramatically resting his head against the handle. “No, don’t worry, Grandpa. Mav is still older than you.”

He peers up at her, a smirk spreading across his face. “No ice cream.”

Mary laughs at Amelia’s devastated face. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to keep you guys.”

“No! Don’t go! Walk with us! Bradley is so boring; I wasn’t kidding about the World War II documentary.”

“Oh no, thank you, Amelia, but I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, you can.” Bradley clears some space at the end of the cart. “Here, put your basket in there, and we’ll finish out together.”

Amelia watches Mary hesitate, a silent conversation passing between the adults before she sets her basket in the cart. “Thank you, that was getting heavy. Where are you guys off to next?”

The trio continues making their way through the store, Amelia switching between riding on the end of the cart and walking behind the adults.

A scuffle catches her attention, and Amelia looks up from her phone to find Mary and Bradley smooshed together, Bradley’s arm wrapped around her waist as he presses her against the cart from where they bumped into each other.

“Oh, hey, sorry about that. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Mary giggles, her cheeks turning pink. “We sure are graceful, aren’t we?”

“I think we could walk on stage at the ballet and fit right in.”

Oh my god. Is this his way of flirting?

Mary laughs at the joke, reaching down to put a can of tomatoes in her basket but making no effort to move away from his chest.

Oh wow, she’s into it. Weird.

“So what are you doing for dinner? Amelia Bedelia back there conned me into agreeing to pizza.”

“That’s not true, he bribed me.”

“Actually, you blackmailed me.”

“I’m making chicken parmesan,” Mary answers, grabbing a box of angel hair pasta. “Dani and I are having a girl’s night; apparently, the baby has been craving my mom’s secret chicken parm recipe.”

“What’s the secret?” Amelia hops back onto the cart, smiling as Bradley glares at her.

“You promise not to tell anyone?” Mary conspiratorially bumps shoulders with Bradley as they both agree. “Well… you have to use homemade tomato sauce, made the Vertucci family way. And when you bread the chicken, you add shredded parmesan to the breadcrumbs. It gives it extra flavor, and the cheese makes it nice and crispy when you finish it in the oven.”

“That sounds so good! I love Italian food.”

“Did you know that chicken parm is actually an Italian-American food? You won’t find it on the menus in Italy.”

“Really?” Bradley asks, paying close attention to her.

“Yeah! There’s some dishes that are kinda similar. Like melanzane alla parmigiana - made with eggplant - or carne pizzaiola, which is traditionally made with beef. But most restaurants in Italy have a menu that’s closer to the Italian peasant recipes that I grew up eating.”

“What are peasant recipes?” Amelia questions, unfamiliar with the term.

“They’re just recipes that peasants or the regular people would make. They’re very simple and made with ingredients that are easy and cheap to buy. My family didn’t have a lot of money when they came over from Italy and the Great Depression, so those are the kind of meals my grandparents grew up eating. And they’re still delicious, so they made things like pastina or pasta mollicata for us growing up.”

“What's your favorite?”

Mary lights up at the question from Bradley, her smile getting bigger. “Pasta e piselli, which is just pasta and peas. But it’s so good and filling and comforting.”

“Do you make it a lot?”

“I don’t actually, Amelia, even though it’s very easy to make. It’s one of those recipes I break out for a special dinner or when I need a pick-me-up meal.”

“Special dinner? You ever make it for a date?” Bradley asks as they turn into the last aisle.

Mary visibly flounders. “Uh- I- No. I haven’t made it for a date.”

“Why not? Amelia, what kind of ice cream do you want?”

“Chocolate chip cookie dough, please.” She answers, her eyes bouncing back and forth between the two adults, a bad feeling creeping up her neck.

“Well, honestly, it’s a special recipe to me - it’s my Nonna’s recipe. So, I wouldn’t make it for someone until I knew they were in it for the long haul.”

“Oh, that’s smart! You said it was easy to make. Would you mind sharing the recipe with me? I’ve been looking for a quality recipe that’s not too hard to make for an occasion like that.”

Amelia’s stomach drops as she watches Mary’s face fall.

Bradley! Get your head out of the ice cream cooler and pay attention! You’re making her sad!

She realizes that the situation is quickly devolving and pivots the conversation.

“Hey, Mary?”

“Yeah, sweetie?” The older woman pulls her eyes from Bradley’s back, which she’d been staring at dejectedly.

“You made those brownies Mav brought home a couple weeks ago, right?” She smiles when Mary nods. “Do you know how to make red velvet?”

“I do. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s my birthday next month, and I want red velvet cupcakes for my party. Could I order them from you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Those brownies were amazing, and Bradley still talks about that strawberry shortcake you made.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, eyes flicking to a sheepish Bradley.

“That lemon pound cake did things to me.”

“Okay, ignoring the weirdo. Do you think you could make them?”

“Of course! I’ll talk to your mom next week and figure out the details, okay?”

“Thank you!” Amelia jumps off the cart to hug Mary, sticking her tongue out at Bradley as she does. “My favorite color is red.”

“Noted.” Mary taps the end of her nose. “We should probably head for the checkout; I have a pregnant lady waiting at home that I need to feed.”

Nodding in agreement, Bradley pulls Amelia toward a cashier line while Mary grabs her basket and heads for the self-checkout.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Oh, I’m just gonna do self-checkout so I can get going. But I’ll see you on Monday.”

Bradley cocks his head like a confused puppy. “Are you sure? If you wait with us, I’ll carry your bags to the car for you.”

“That’s sweet, but I’ve got it. Been doing this all by myself for years now! Enjoy your pizza, guys!” She waves, her smile not as big as it had been ten minutes ago.

The duo watches her from their place in line, impressed with how quickly she scans and packs her reusable bags, ones that match those sitting in their cart. It’s not long before she’s loading up her arms and flashing a quick smile at them as she leaves, which they return.

“I feel like I did something wrong.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Amelia scoffs. “Whatever makes you think that? How she ran away from us as quickly as possible? Or the fact that she was faking her smile for the last 15 minutes?”

“She was faking it? Why?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that right now.”

It’s their turn to checkout, so Bradley doesn’t get a chance to defend himself until they’re walking through the parking lot to the Bronco.

“Okay, want to tell me what I did wrong?”

“You didn’t ask her out. And she definitely would have said yes if you did.”

“I hinted at it!”

“No, you didn’t! You made it sound like you were asking for her grandma’s recipe - that’s very special to her - so you could make it for some other woman! There was no point at which you hinted at that woman being her!”

He claps a hand over his face. “Holy shit…”

“Now he gets it! Ladies and gentlemen, Bradley Rooster Bradshaw! One of the Navy’s finest! Let's give him a big round of applause!” Amelia mockingly claps after she tucks the cart back into the corral.

“Alright, that’s enough, smartass; get in.”

“In the cart? In the Bronco? You need to start being more specific with your questions.” She sasses as she climbs into the passenger seat.

Bradley doesn’t move once he gets in; just sits there staring out the windshield. “Do you think I fucked it up?”

“No.” She smiles at him when he whips his head in her direction. “Just ask her out to something small, like coffee or something. Then you can work your way up and ask her to dinner, but you make dinner. Maybe even the pasta and pea thing she was talking about. I’m sure there’s recipes online.”

“You’re pretty smart for someone so young.”

“Thanks, I get it from my mom. My dad is the worst.”

Bradley chuckles as he turns the car on. “She is a smart lady. You know, my mom would have liked you a lot.”

Amelia freezes, half-way buckled. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, you have the same sense of humor as her. She’d think you’re a riot.”

“You never talk about her.”

“It’s hard to talk about her.” He swallows hard, fiddling with the radio until he lands on a station playing old music. “I miss her so much. It’s gotten a little easier over the years, but there’s so few people left that actually knew her, it’s tough. Especially because I keep losing those people, too.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes until Bradley turns the radio up. “She loved this song.”

She listens, trying to place the song. “This is the Tarzan song.”

“It is the Tarzan song.” He laughs, his throat thick. “She loved Genesis and Phil Collins, but You’ll Be In My Heart was her favorite. We listened to it a lot towards the end.”

Amelia unbuckles, throwing herself across the bench seat to hug him. She surprises him; she can tell from the way he tenses for a second before hugging her back. She tries not to cry, but she can feel a few tears build up, upset that Bradley doesn’t have his mom or his dad anymore. That he’s lived longer without them than he lived with them.

“Oh, Ames. It’s okay.” He rubs her back when he hears her sniffle.

“It’s not fair!”

“I know, kiddo. But it happened, and at least she’s not in pain anymore.” He pulls back, wiping a tear off her cheek. “Hey, has Mav ever told you about the time me and my mom pulled a Halloween prank on him?”

“No.” She wipes her face. “Will you tell me more about her? I want to know more about your mom.”

“I’ll do you one better. We’ll watch embarrassing home videos while we eat pizza; how’s that sound? Good?”

Amelia nods, buckling back up. “Can we get Hawaiian pizza, please?”

“Course we can. So about this Halloween prank, it’s 1997, and the movie Anaconda had come out that year.”

“Mav hates snakes.”

“Yes, Mav does hate snakes. Which is why we…”

And Bradley pulls out of the parking lot and heads for the pizza joint, making his little sister laugh over the story of how it was discovered that Mav’s screams could reach a soprano octave.

tagged some extra friends/mutuals, and as always if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list, send an ask!

@gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @notroosterbradshaw | @princessphilly | @hangmanssunnies | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice | @laracrofted

fic tag | Mar[r]y Me masterlist | credit for dividers here

[druckkugelschreiber]

Okay! Here comes my The Old Guard 2 dream that had actually very little to do with what's probably going to happen in the movie, but it was so cool! I literally woke up in the middle of the night to write this shit down in my notebook and couldn't sleep for like half an hour thinking about this! Below the cut cause it might be a bit long lol

So, I was at home with my siblings and a bunch of friends. I was immortal and on Andy's team, but the team was currently in the wind, Andy included. We all knew Quynh was coming after us so we were on high alert. My friends all knew about the immortality and Quynh business as well.

Of course, Quynh shows up at my house with her own team of people. She has a bunch of immortals following her, six to be precise. They're all of various ages. Scarecrow is her left hand man and always wears a plague doctor mask.

They don't come into the house, instead snooping around the garden as if to test the waters and see if Andy is maybe there.

We watch from a first story window all a bit freaked out casue we knew if Quynh wants to take us out she can and she has to know we're in here.

My brother is like "Who's Quynh?"

Me: "The asian woman with the pale blue turtleneck" she also wore a leather jacket and had a katana strapped to her back for 100% badassery.

Quynh and her team poked around the garden for a while before they all left again seemingly having done nothing.

I attempt to follow them and they all drive their own fucking cars, like a scene from transformers. Anyway, I loose them and go back to the garden to see if they left traps or something but literally nothing.

The scene switches to a differen apartment, one can assume my dad's as he's also there all of a sudden and it's the next day.

We talk about what happened yesterday and why Quynh didn't do anything.

There's then a movie like montage that shows Scarecrow in a toyshop (still wearing his mask) and he's trying to figure out how a jumping rope works, but fails, and he gets really angry at the cashier and in the end yells "you short people are ridiculous". This was by far the oddest moment in the dream but I also feel kind of sorry for him as it was obvious he had been locked up for a long time and only recently got out.

After that it switches to Quynh hunting down Andy in a grocery store. Andy looks really tired and run down as if she had been looking over her shoulder constantly. Quynh sneaks up on Andy but Andy knows she's there but before they meet the scene cuts back to me and my friends again! My own dream giving me cliffhangers, I hate it thanks.

Anyway, my dad has to leave for work and tells us all to be careful. He gets outside but his car has been stolen -we assume by Quynh's team. He then tries to call the police but the phones aren't working either and neither are the eletronic chip to get back in the building.

I know there's an EMP at work and go to a big, yellow jeep in which one of Quynh's team is sitting. His name his Basti and I clocked him as the healer but he introduces himself as 'The Trouble'.

We have a bit of a chat in which is revealed that his equipment isn't working either.

A second guy of Quynh's team comes along, Gremlin, and I confront them both that it's not actually their EMP and they're not actually messing around with us.

Gremlin "Shit you shouldn't know that yet."

Basti "I'm sorry that's my fault."

I'm irritated at them both but take them inside with me. We have to figure out who's really hunting us.

On the way to the apartment, I go full fangirl mode talking about Andy. "I probably won't be able to reach Andy before Quynh finds her."

Basti, "probably not but the fight would have happened anyway."

Me, "yeah, Andy really hasn't been around for a while. I miss her, but one should never get between Andy and Quynh" pause, "actually that's an idea" another pause, "have I told you Andy is awesome?"

The guys were not impressed. LOL.

Back in the flat my friends found another one of Quynh's team she left there to guard us.

This one is a latina woman called Laura and she's like "ooops, got found out by a bunch of kids."

Of course then I had to be obnoxious and I shouted, "who's the best team?"

"The old guard!" my friends cheered (yes we also called us the old guard as we technically were team Andy).

Quynh's people rolled their eyes and were like "yes, yes."

They also brought their own groceries and I was like "???"

Them "well you probably don't have enough groceries to cook for all of us."

Me "oh you'd be surprised how much food I'm storing with the team always hanging out here."

I then went to call said team as we were all banding together in an Avengers like montage and said "and you better never get in between Nicky and Joe, that doesn't end well for people."

Basti "yes, we know, Quynh briefed us about all of you"

And the dream ended. Sadly. I really wanted to see Andy and just keep dreaming. It was so cool! And the dialogue is all pretty much exactly like it happened in the dream xD

Also Quynh's team:

Scarecrow- tall, redhaired, always wears plague doctor mask was locked up for a long time

Basti/ The Trouble- the healer, broad shoulders, pale blonde, beard

Gremlin- thief, the one who actually gets in trouble, dirty blonde, beard

Laura- brunette, white passing latina

A black woman with short hair who didn't get a name

An asian woman who also didn't get a name

[plantinghobbies]

Three: No Mirrors for Monsters

Guyyyyys, where has 7 months gone!?! Ok well I’m back at it and already writing chapter 5 and feel like I finally know where this little imagination thread is going with Matty and Tess. Thanks as always to @sycophanticsolipsism for being a champion through all of my 800 drafts of this thing and being the best beta, friend and muse. And to you for reading and letting me know what you think!

Growing Pains Masterlist

The walks had begun out of necessity, something to break up the monotonous hours between waking up and going to the bar most nights to help out. (It had actually been her therapist’s idea - “you time,” Janice had coined with a smirk, already familiar with the eye roll she’d be on the receiving end of. “Not everything has to have a purpose Tess, sometimes it’s good to just be.) B(e) - as in boredom. Which is exactly what she’d been drowning in since she moved a few months ago. Walking was boring but at least it had a - she hates how months working with Janice has made purpose feel like a four-letter word - point. 

She hadn’t felt this way in fifteen years, that itchy feeling like an electric current in her limbs, making it feel physically impossible to sit still (a doctor once told her that it was ADHD, that she could get tested, but Tess caught a big case and by the time she surfaced back in New York after the deal went through, the woman had moved her practice upstate). 

When Tess was twelve, she’d bribed Darby Scantlon’s idiot brother to let her ride along with him to UNC Asheville twice a week to sit in on his classes. It had taken months of saving up her babysitting money to cover the extortionist fee he “required” for gas (read: beer money) as well as the fake ID from the stoners he tipped her off to who hung out behind the local high school. But she was determined, bored out of her skull in her classroom and starry-eyed at the UNC pamphlet she’d picked up promising her challenging experiences with cutting-edge learning. She’d told her teachers she was missing class to go to therapy, told her mom she had joined an aeronautics club after school and told Darby she’d never speak to her again if she uttered a word. It took almost two months before she was found out, when her mother ran into Principal Stewart at the grocery store and remarked how much Tess was enjoying learning about space. All hell broke loose after that - nobody in the town soon forgot when her mother charged into the movie theater Mrs. Scantlon worked at hollering about her son kidnapping Tess. Darby didn’t talk to her for a month.

But it was worth it. Because when the professor of the class she’d been squatting in found out that his best student (based on grades, the professor had 212 students and had never actually met Tess) was actually a twelve year old, he’d called Tess’s parents and convinced them to let her stay in the class and take more (when he called the first time, it was 6:30 and her mother had scolded him for interrupting dinner and hung up. Thankfully, he waited an hour and called back). The turning point in her life and she couldn’t even remember the teacher’s name, her young mind discarding it long ago. 

What she could remember was everything else about that night, from the congealed Mac and cheese she was pushing around her plate and the humming melody of cicadas that drifted in with the breeze through the kitchen window. The shrill ring of the phone had surprised them all and her mother clutched her hand to her chest as she went to answer it (even years after the cordless phone became cheap and commonplace, her parents held on to the corded wall unit. So I can monitor your brothers, her mother had said). Her ears had perked up at the mention of her professor’s name, then her whole body had deflated at the quick trill of the phone as her mother dropped the receiver back down. When her dad had asked why the professor was bothering to call back (“I thought we were done with all that talk of extra schoolin?”), her mom had shrugged and slid the cloth napkin back into her lap with a breezy “Well, no harm in hearing what he has to say.” 

Fifteen years later, Tess wonders if that was actually true. 

“Sooo, do you live around here?” Oh shit, she’d forgotten about him. The guy from the lawn that she’d been playing some weird game of chicken with for the last several days. Tess feels awkward suddenly, like when you flirt with someone across a crowded bar, just some harmless fun while you wait for your drink, and then he makes a beeline right toward you. She enjoyed chasing after something but didn’t really know what to do when she caught it. 

“Uhm” The leash pinches her fingers as she hauls Dale back from lunging at a squirrel. She hisses, switching her grip and shaking them out under his watchful eye. “I’m staying a few blocks over.”

“Staying?” He’s cute, scrunching his nose up as if he literally smells something fishy. “Huh. I thought for sure you were a local. I thought you seemed a bit familiar at the bar.”

“Well, technically I am. I’m from about an hour from here.” They’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk, Dale’s nose pressed firmly to the backside of another dog, sniffing in greeting. For a moment, Tess is reminded of how often that nose is nuzzled against her own face, then thinks better of it. “But I’m in town for a little while.”

“Me too. Well, the here for a bit part of what you said at least.” They continue their walk, Tess charting a path from memory and this man seemingly content to follow alongside her. She can see his curious side-eye. He’s clearly a talker. “Umm, what brings you back?”

Tess doesn’t take her eyes off the pavement in front of her. She’s not sure what to say. (It’s nice meeting someone who doesn’t already know - seems like everyone else does.) How much time do you have random stranger?! Where would she even start? ‘Ok, so my Mom’ - Nope, not going there. ‘And my Dad’ - yea, way too soon. ‘Well, I’m 28 and I’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m doing’. Not something she’s going to divulge to a handsome stranger. She settles for something close to the truth. “Family stuff.”

That’s about all she wants to say on the topic so she changes it. “What about you? Your accent sort of gives away the not being from here so…”

“Me?” Tattoos peak out on both arms as he flexes around a subtle stretch. The devil’s brand, her grandmother used to call tats but Tess has always found them oddly enticing. That someone could feel so sure about something that they wanted it forever. Tess has never felt that way about anything. 

“Yea, what brings you to Asheville?” 

“Oh, um….work.” It’s a boring answer which probably means it’s a boring job. She doesn’t ask more, unable to feign interest in asinine topics before she’s had at least two cups of coffee. And even then she’d only ever made it about ten minutes (and that was to close a $3 billion client).

The rest of their walk is done in relative silence, a feeling which Tess doesn’t mind but her companion seems to be less familiar with. There seems to be a million things on the tip of his tongue, his mouth opening frequently before he shakes his head and closes it. It’s not often that Tess finds herself attracted to someone and she’d like a little more time to analyze it, understand why his perfect curls draw her in when others don’t, why her fingers itch to trace his tattoos. Just as she’s wondering if she can snap a picture without him knowing, they’ve reached her house. There’s a split second when she considers whether she should keep walking on so he doesn’t know her address (healthy paranoia in her mind, a product of too much Dateline if you ask the rest of her family) but there’s something about him that makes her feel comfortable, familiar. (That’s just how people described Ted Bundy, you fool! A small voice in her head shrieks). 

Dale stops, already knowing they’re home, and Tess thumbs toward her house, signaling the end of their walk. Before she can wave goodbye, he asks if he can join again tomorrow. She pauses midway through her gate, turning and looking back at him, and recognizes the pacing, the drumming of his hands along her fence, the flickering of his eyes. His body - like hers - seemingly unable to inhabit one space, shifting foot to foot. Taking pity on him, she agrees.

“I’m Matty by the way.” He extends his hand, a large callous running along the side of his index finger. She likes the way his accent clips the t’s in his name. 

She shields her eyes with her left hand as she meets his right. “Tess.”

______________________________________________________________

When Jack said he and Margaret were finally making the move out of New York for somewhere quieter, Matty had figured they were going to New Jersey. He’d had a hard time picturing the Southern town Jack described - “it’s small but not small small you know?” He hadn’t, but now he thinks he gets it. Big enough you don’t have to leave for essentials, small enough that eventually everyone knows you.

Which Matty finds out in a rather mortifying way. 

He’s not sure why he’s been avoiding telling Tess about his… job - life? - fame? (Ugh he hates the sound of that) - about him. It’s not like he’s on a predator registry or wanted for some heinous crime. Or that he has the kind of fame that will bring a disruption to their daily routine. (Media interest - social or otherwise - has significantly died down since the band went on break, fans turning their sites to other interests feeding them with newer content. Matty tries to ignore the fear that creeps in at that thought, that people are losing interest in the band, in him). But he’s enjoying the anonymity, the ability to interact with her without wondering what she’s read about him on the internet. It’s been a long time since he’s interacted with someone as just Matty, and never as 35-year-old version of himself trying to claw his way into adulthood. 

For all his ego, he’d like to get some credit for the fact that it never crossed his mind that she already knew. It finally comes up after the older lady who runs the local coffee shop they’ve been frequenting says ‘bye Matty’ despite them never meeting. He’s a little surprised that the first person to recognize him is not a coed from the local university but a retiree, he thought he knew his demographic a little better. 

“So, I guess that was weird” he holds the door for Tess and she walks ahead, unleashing Dale from the tree he’s been resting under. “Ehm, I should probably tell you - well, it” he clears his throat, unsure suddenly how to talk about this without sounding like a self-involved dickhead “it….may happen, - like I don’t think that much but just -“

“Huh?” She’s looking at him sideways and honestly, that’s a fair response, he’s not making much sense. 

When she finally catches on to what he’s trying to say, she barks out a laugh so loud it startles the dog, who crouches into a fighting position in response. After she collects herself (“Wait, oh my god, do you think -“ Mrs. Markovitch?! A diehard fan?! Oh god, I might pee my pants”), she tells him to get over himself. “Everyone knows everyone around here. These people only watch Jeopardy, the Macy’s Day Parade, and sports. You aren’t famous enough to have penetrated their radar.” Well, he’d felt like a twat and she hadn’t let him live it down, taking the piss out of him every time someone called him by name from then on (“Oh they probably read your latest spread in Pitchfork down at the senior center”). He’d been happy to learn that she knew and didn’t care (“You kind of stick out, honestly. It wasn’t that hard to find you.”), that this mountain that he had built up between them had turned out to be a molehill. It had been a long time since he’d spent time with someone who wasn’t at all tied to his work in some way.  Or who could be counted on to cut his ego off at the knees. Outside of Jack, he hadn’t felt that intimacy with anyone since tour ended. It further intoxicated him - he’d always been a sucker for a woman who could put him in his place. He wouldn’t delude himself that he was immune to her other charms either - her wit, her laughter, her fucking beauty - he was a man after all. He thinks he can sense the same in her, a love of this cat and mouse game between them. They’ve begun to flirt a little more flagrantly - there’d been a moment the other day with a shared fork at breakfast that made him feel like a teenager again - but nothing that couldn’t be explained away between friends. Matty craved more - more jokes and references and intimacy to collect just between them. More ties to her. 

He doesn’t have to wait long for retaliation material, spotting Tess later that week while passing a fitness studio on a smoke break from the studio. Although, she’s kind of hard to miss, dancing around and flailing her arms. He can’t hear the music but can tell instantly that she’s off beat, struggling to keep rhythm with the others. Twirling, squatting, tripping over her feet. She’s a mess - and he can’t look away. But instead of embarrassment at her clear lack of coordination, his mind is flooded with images of dancing with her, trying to teach her. Them dancing in her kitchen, him guiding her hips as they sway, her grinding those hips against him as he leans down to brush his lips against hers. 

A car horn snaps him out of his daydream. He’s aware of what he must look like, can see the headlines now – Hard-Up Healy Turned Peeping Tom. But Matty lingers just a little longer than is polite, eyes darting around hoping to catch hers. Just as he resigns himself to snapping a stealthy pic to take the piss out of her with later, she spots him. A cheshire cat grin breaks out on his face as a look of horror passes over hers. The accompanying thumbs up is unnecessary - but he’s a little shit, what can he say. Tess levels him with a death glare that would have been truly breathtaking if it hadn’t been interrupted by her abrupt collision with the woman next to her, the poor victim grasping Tess’s shoulders to try to help her get back on tempo. He caught the “fuck off” she mouthed at him before he turned and strode away, cackling loudly. 

______________________________________________________________

“Oh my God, that song was proper awful.”

“Fuck off, it’s incredible! I lost my virginity to that song…”

The words are thrown over her shoulder as they navigate her front steps, moving slowly under the weight of their haul from the farmer’s market. Matty almost misses a step at this reveal.

“Oooh sexy, give me the deets” A laugh bubbles up unbidden at the valley girl affect in his voice.

Dale almost tips her over as she roots around in her pocket for her keys. Once inside, she dumps the bags on the kitchen counter, unpacking a random assortment of veggies. 

“No way, I’m not trading sex stories with a rockstar.” Matty grabs plates for their breakfast sandwiches as she settles on the couch, thumbing through the local paper to the crossword puzzle, pulling it out and handing him the rest. Reading up on the local drama had become a guilty pleasure of his.

She knew he wouldn’t drop it, he was like a dog with a bone and no sense of boundaries - his drug addiction, his band, his family, and now his sex life all openly discussed. She had lifelong friends she knew less about than him. And listen, she wasn’t a prude, talking about sex didn’t bother her - except talking about her first time meant talking about school and that meant talking about -

“Claire Murphy when we were fourteen in her parents’ basement. Decidedly not-rockstar. Now spill.” 

She didn’t need to know who Matty was when she first met him to know he was “somebody”. He had an air about him, like he’d never met a room he wasn’t comfortable in. Tess knew the type - cocky, attention-seeking, monied. No thank you, she assumed. It’s why she’d bailed out at the bar, dodged him after. She had been glad to be wrong, glad to find out that while he was all the above, it was oddly endearing instead of asshole-ish. But comparison was a thief that visited her often. It was bad enough when she was comparing herself to her coworker’s dogwalker – it’s why she’d gotten off social media. But juxtaposing her life with a fucking rich rockstar?! She didn’t need that kind of ammo.

And yet, it seemed unavoidable right now. “OK, nevermind, I’ll just ask your brother at the bar tonight.” Fuck it, if he’s going to find out anyway, might as well be from her. Her friends don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for her to tell new people (“Tess, you’re a genius not an axe murderer”) but she prefers when people don’t know. Before the deluge of questions - ‘wait, what’s your IQ? Could you even live in the dorms at 15? Did you get fucking laid in law school being that young?’ That last one had only been asked once and Ben had almost ended up in the city jail for decking the guy. All these questions asked by people who were either surprised that she - Tess, really? - was that smart or were just interested in the salacious goings on of a 15-year-old on a college campus (gross). When that subsides, when she’s answered all the questions and reviewed the timeline of her life over and over, they still look at her different. New friends feel inferior, prospective boyfriends feel threatened. It’d been more of a problem in the isolation of New York, here she had her family and old friends and hadn’t bothered to try to make any new ones. 

Tess plays with the remains of her breakfast sandwich to distract from the uncertainty of how to spill her mess out in front of him. “Fourteen too, my high school’s football field, freshman year of college.” 

Cue the confused look, this scene playing out exactly the way that every other had - Tess playing herself, Matty now cast in the role of the potential love interest (she was far from immune from his charms). “Wait, I thought the American system was…”

Time for Tess’s monologue, the scary uncertain times of her life now scripted down to a tight thirty seconds - college classes at twelve led to an accelerated learning program (the first of it’s kind at her school), finished high school at fourteen, Harvard grad at seventeen (“Yes that Harvard, Matty, please just let me get this out”), law school til 21, firm job until left at 27, ending up right back where she started, helping her brother run his bar while she figures out what’s next. 

There were a few things she’d left out, she needed it to sound cleaner, more deliberate, than it actually was. To stick the landing when in reality it felt like she’d stumbled right off the mat. Because as much as she wished she was a woman who could own her mistakes in the face of someone she was interested in - ok, she fucking really likes him - she’s just not that enlightened yet. She’s still the chicken-shit scared girl who lost her virginity to the first boy who treated her even halfway normal on her first trip home from Boston for semester break. 

Matty’s eyes track her, Tess can feel the weight of them, but she can’t bring hers to meet his. It feels like what he says next could make or break her happiness right now, frail as it is. He’s a bright spot for her, whether she admits it or not. Pathetic. 

The smack of his hands on his knees startles her but it’s a familiar sound. She’s seen this film before - he’ll pat his knees and talk about how impressive she is, how lucky anyone would be to know her, but he just remembered he’s got somewhere to be and -  “Well, THAT explains a lot.” 

His exaggerated voice is entirely for her benefit, that much is obvious. What isn’t is where he’s going with this. “Huh?” For all her IQ, that’s the most she can muster.

“Why you make such a shit drink. I knew it was nepotism but I figured if you’d been a lifelong bartender you at least would have….”

“Oh shut the fuck up” she grabs a pillow and smashes it against his head, a little giddy with the way this was not going as she expected. 

He catches the pillow and pins it between them on the couch, along with her hands momentarily, and then his arms pulled back as if he’d been stung. She picks up her plate again to channel the energy that’s suddenly coursing through her. 

He’s eyeing the leftovers now as she pinches the bread crust between her fingers. She offers it for him to take, still can’t figure out what the fuck to say or where to go from here. He shovels it into his mouth, licking his fingers with a muffled thank you. A smear of aioli lines the corner of his lip, taunting her. Every salacious thought she’d had about him over the last few weeks dripped into her brain all at once. Which is the only explanation she has for what she does next. With a steadiness she certainly didn’t feel, she reaches up, dragging the pad of her finger across his Cupid’s bow before popping it in her own mouth, licking off the remnants of sauce. 

Matty’s sharp inhale brings her back to herself. Good going Tess. He’d stuck around through the weird college stories just for you to run him off by being a complete creep. But there’s no mistaking the look on his face. If he hightails it in the other direction now, she’ll at least be comforted that while he may think she is a total creep, she’s a total creep that he’s at least somewhat attracted to. Their gazes remain locked for what feels like forever - her trembling hand suspended in the air, his eyes flitting across her face as if he can’t pick one thing to focus on. Is it her imagination or is he leaning toward her? Oh god! 

Dale’s bark at a distant siren jolts her from her thoughts. They break eye contact, and she feels a pang of disappointment at the lost opportunity. So close. He clears his throat. “Well, in terms of interesting childhoods, I still think I have you beat.” She laughs harder than the joke warrants, grateful to him for steering them through the visceral tension in the room.” I’m serious! Let me show you!”

Her laugh rings off the kitchen walls as he reaches for his phone, already pulling up Google. 

______________________________________________________________

Matty has to fly to New York to meet with a session musician that Jack loves, their baby due any day and them unable to travel. The night he gets back, she texts him that she’s TBD for the morning walk. Apparently, Dale is vomiting all over the place and she can’t leave him. The disappointment is palpable, he’d been looking forward to seeing her more than he’d realized. Rumpled from jet lag and hours of flying, he crawls into bed and catches up on sleep and tv. 

When he doesn’t hear from her at sunrise, his curiosity is peaked. He’d probably call it borderline worried if that didn’t sound so loaded, serious. They’d texted a few times while he was gone, inane messages of adult life - she took in his mail, he had a package, she threatened to post the contents on Instagram if he didn’t bring her back Magnolia bread pudding. But they weren’t quite at call each other - hell, it seems these days (he knows how he sounds) that the bar for ringing someone was strictly reserved for emergencies and your mum. But worry overwhelms his awkwardness. The low din of background noise is his first clue that something isn’t right, that she’s not home. Her voice is frazzled as she tells him she and Dale are at the emergency vet. Apparently, Dale had gotten worse, he’d been having trouble staying upright.

“I panicked” she admits, though it sounds to him like it was the right call. 

She says she’s fine and that she’ll keep him posted. He spends about a half an hour putting about the house - debating if it would be weird to show up there. He thinks about Dale - such a sweet thing, so eager and trusting of everyone and everything he encountered. He thinks of her, how much he knows she loves that dog, how attached they are, how she seems unwilling to bother anyone in her life until she absolutely needs to. It’s that image, of her alone, that has him grabbing his keys. If he’s not going to be able to focus on anything else, might as well go where his mind is already, patience never his strong suit.

She seems unsure of what to do with him when he appears in the waiting room, and Matty wonders if he shouldn’t have come. When he’d walked through the door with coffee, he didn’t miss the way her eyebrows shot to her hairline. It had clearly caught her off guard. For a moment he has a horrifying thought - well, a series of them that all flow from a fear that he’s misread everything up to now, the flirting, the intimacy, the well everything. That she’s not  alone here as he assumed, that any second shes going to introduce him to her hot boyfriend, some doctor or contractor or someone equally capable, a quality that Matty is deeply aware he’s never been called a day in his life. And they are both going to stare at him, wondering what it is that he - scattered, untrained, ordinary Matty - thought he could do in this crisis situation. But  nobody appears and she gestures to the empty space next to her. 

Sliding a chair over to sit next to her, he finds himself at a loss for what to say. The muscles in her arms are tense as she grips the sides of the chair she’s sitting on, leg bouncing, eyes darting to the doors leading to the back area every time it opens. Anxiety is rolling off of her in waves so strong he swears he can feel them, he’s unsure how to be around her right now.  Is she someone who appreciates a laugh when she’s stressed? Would she snap at him if he said something trite.

In the end, its his curiosity that gets the best of him. “Do they know what’s wrong?”

“Umm” Her voice is hoarse with misuse and suppressed emotion when she goes to speak, clears her throat, and tries again. “They are pretty sure he ate something but they don’t know-.”

“Like what…” he begins but her sharp look cuts him off. 

“I don’t know what! Clearly if I did, we wouldn’t be in this situation, ok?” Even though he knows the rebuke is empty, driven by fear and misunderstanding, his hackles still go up at the sharpness in her tone. He was just asking. 

Silence stretches between them, punctuated by a sigh as she turns his way. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just exhausted. He and I were out yesterday at my Dad’s so maybe… but I don’t know - I’m so careful…” 

Her words trail off as she goes back to staring at the door, as if willing Dale to come through it. Matty can’t do anything for her and he doesn’t like feeling useless, unproductive. The urge to flee is strong, this was a mistake. He resolves to stay a few minutes longer, so that she doesn’t think that he’s leaving because she was short with him. 

Just as he’s about to get up and make his exit, with some lame excuse about studio time, a young woman in a white coat appears and calls Tess’s name. A soft, trembling hand - the first time he’s held it, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind for later - grasps his as the vet makes her way over. Finally, something to do, however small. 

The vet’s face doesn’t give anything away and in the short time before she gets to them, it dawns on Matty that the news may not be good. When he’d decided to come here, he was picturing her throwing herself at him out of relief and gratitude that he was there and with an update that Dale was already better. Selfish – the word ricochets across his mind. He hadn’t really stopped to ponder that it could be bad news. Or the worst. Should he really be the person there when she found out her dog died?! Did they have that kind of relationship? 

Before he can overthink it – well, overthink it any more than he already has – the vet is in front of them. “Here for Dale?” Dr. Sheldon, according to her badge, smiles and Tess’s grip relaxes just a little bit. So does his own. Surely, a smile is a good sign.

“Well, umm, he clearly ingested something but he’s stable” Matty squeezes Tess’s hand, cautiously optimistic. “He’s a fighter. And a real charmer, got the ladies eating right out of his paw.”

Matty has to physically hold back an eye roll. Is this really the time for jokes?

“We’re going to keep him overnight for observation but if things continue to improve, he should be able to go home tomorrow.” At those words, Tess sags against him in relief, as if the anxiety had been keeping her upright. Caught off guard, Matty’s fingers slip over her waste, pulling her to him to steady her. Smiling and accepting her impromptu hug of gratitude, the doctor mentions that someone will be out with some paperwork before turning to leave. 

Sagging back into their chairs, Matty notices a single tear rolling down her face. On instinct, he brings his hand up to her cheek, just barely grazing it as he catches the tear with his index finger and swipes it away. Their knees brush as she shifts in front of him and her gaze locks with his for a split second before she’s glancing away toward the front desk.

“Thanks for being here” she says finally, her green eyes - so unlike his own - glistening back at him. Not for the first time he’s struck by how beautiful she is - Jesus Healy not the time! And definitely not the place. While the couple of days in New York definitely clarified his interest in her - strong enough that he’d ignored a booty call from a regular hookup while there - but he still felt conflicted about fucking up his only friendship in town. (Don’t shit where you eat the sound engineer at the studio had said the other day and while a vile image, it was effective). The album had been moving at a weird place and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be here - could be weeks, could be months.

“Don’t mention it.” A sudden feeling of foolishness washes over him, embarrassment that he made such a big deal out of this by coming down here when Dale is going to be just fine. This feels like he’s put his heart on his sleeve in a way he didn’t intend to. Not even her friends came, and here he is rushing down to her like he’s got a claim to. 

But then he’s driving her home (“my hands are too shaky”) and heating up soup and sitting on the floor in front of the couch watching a movie because the house had seemed too quiet to her. 

And then just as she’s losing the battle with sleep, cocooned in Dale’s favorite blanket, she whispers “I’m glad you were there today…” 

It’s a sucker punch, all the air pushed from his chest and replaced with a flush of warmth that spreads to the tips of his fingers, his toes, into his goddamn hair follicles. Fuck. 

“Me too…” 

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

I SAW THE TV GLOW (2024)

We start off in 1996 with Owen, a sad boy in the seventh grade.  He meets Maddy, a ninth-grade girl, who is reading an episode guide for “The Pink Opaque.”  Owen can’t watch the show because it comes on at 10 pm, and that’s his bedtime.  He connives with Maddy to spend the night at her house (whilst he says that he’s at another boy’s house) and watches his first episode.  It looks like a late-90s or early-aughts teenage paranormal TV drama, like “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” or, I don’t know, “Supernatural.”  (I never watched the latter show.)  In the show, two girls are connected via a psychic link, and together they defeat the monster of the week, even though they live on opposite sides of the county.  The “big bad” is Mr. Melancholy.  Owen watches an episode about a terrifying monster with melting ice cream for a face.  Afterwards, Maddy talks about her step-dad breaking her nose “again,” and she sits on the stairs and says, “sometimes, ‘The Pink Opaque’ feels more real than real life.”  Owen walks home the next morning the thinks of the black girl of the Pink Opaque duo.

We jump forward two years.  Owen’s mother is terminally ill, and he still has a curfew, but Maddy leaves him videotapes so that he can keep watching ‘The Pink Opaque.”  He watches them furtively, hiding from his father.  He joins Maddy as she eats lunch alone on some bleachers and asks if they can watch “The Pink Opaque” again.  Maddy tells Owen that she’s a lesbian, and she asks him if he likes boys or girls, and he says, “I like TV shows.”  He says, “when I think about that stuff, it feels like someone took a shovel and dug out all my insides and I know there’s nothing in there, but I’m still too nervous to open myself up and check.”  Owen goes over to Maddy’s house again (still under the guise of sleeping at another friend’s house), and while they watch the episode the white girl of the Pink Opaque duo appears on screen and Maddy is sobbing.  Later, she says that she’s leaving the town: “I’ll die if I stay.”  Owen says, “if you leave, I won’t have anyone to watch ‘The Pink Opaque' with.”  She goes to him and draws the Pink Opaque symbol on the back of his neck, and he sees static in the air as she sleeps next to him.  The following morning, Maddy tells him that they’re running away the next morning.  Owen promptly tells someone.  He next says that his mom died soon after, and then Maddy disappeared, leaving only a burning tv in the yard, and then “The Pink Opaque” was cancelled.

We then jump forward eight more years (so it’s 2006!), and now Owen is a lonely dude working in a movie theater.  He drives home from work and comes across a downed powerline that for some reason is sparking pink and purple, and he finds a burned copy of “The Pink Opaque” episode guide, which talks about the season premiere for season 6.  At the grocery store, he sees Maddy!  They go to a bar to talk.  She asks him what he remembers about watching “The Pink Opaque,” and we see them hanging out as high schoolers and he puts on a woman’s dress and they go for a walk.  However, she’s asking something different.  “Do you ever have a hard time between distinguishing what happened in the show and what happened in real life, like somehow the memories got jumbled around?”  Owen wants to know where she’s been, and she says, “I’ve been there, inside the show, inside the Pink Opaque.”  She tells him to meet at the night school the following night.

Owen goes home and watches the last episode of “The Pink Opaque,” the finale of season five.  The white girl has been captured by Mr. Melancholy, and then the black girl is captured too!  They cut out her heart and feed her “the luna juice.”  Then Mr. Melancholy appears.  He licks her face and he shows the girl her prison: which is the world of seventh-grade Owen!  “Soon you won’t remember anything,” he tells her.  Then they bury her alive, and that’s how the show ended.  We next see as Owen is trying to crawl into the TV, but his dad comes and yanks him out, and then he puts Owen in the shower. 

He goes to the school.  Maddy has set up in an inflatable planetarium and monologues for Owen.  She felt that time was slipping away.  She paid someone to bury her alive.  She somehow fought her way to the surface, and she suddenly remembered her “real” life, as the white girl from “The Pink Opaque!”  She then sent herself back to our world, the “Midnight Realm,” so that she could find and save her partner, who is trapped as Owen.  He is highly skeptical.  She explains that she has to bury him alive so that he can remember.  He follows her outside, but then he knocks her over and runs away.

Owen then monologues.  He says that he never saw “Maddy” again.  (“That’s not my name,” she told him.)  The movie theater closes and he starts to work at the “fun center.”  “I work there now, restocking the ball pit with balls.”  Owen’s dad dies and he stays in the house and starts his own family, who he “loves.”  He rewatches “The Pink Opaque” on a streaming service and sees that the episodes are truly meant for children, with a smiling ice cream man, not the ice cream monster from his memories.  We then jump forward twenty years.  Now Owen is an asthmatic middle-aged man, still working at the fun center.  He joins his co-workers to sing “Happy Birthday” but suddenly starts crying for help as everyone else freezes around him. 

Owen goes to the bathroom and uses a box cutter to slice his body open.  He pulls apart the skin to reveal a glowing blue light, like a TV screen.  However, he puts his shirt back on and goes back to work, apologizing to everyone he sees.

This is by the same writer-director as “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair” (2021), so it would be natural to compare the two movies, which is exactly what I’m going to do!  Much like that film, this one isn’t really a horror movie, but it does utilize elements of horror to tell a story about growing up and discovering your identity.  Or, in Owen’s case, not discovering it.  There are certainly spooky elements and images; Mr. Melancholy would be a freaky villain, but, per usual, the most frightening things in life are the monsters of your own friends and family, or the monster of not being able to express or understand your own identity.  I will admit that Owen and Maddy’s journeys weren’t my own, but as a fellow human being with empathy I can understand and sympathize with their basic desires to be safe and accepted.

[ghostsontelevision]

sorry the gaylor stuff is fascinating to me so i wrote a whole damn essay abt it under the cut

something i find personally really interesting about gaylor stuff is like - i see the sentiment expressed often in gaylor circles that taylor swift's queerness needs to exist to justify her art. like, if taylor swift isn't queer, why does she write so much about hidden romances? about feeling like she needs to protect her lover from the public? how come she writes about these big dramatic whirlwind affairs when in real life she just dates boring white guys?

there's a few answers:

writing about normal dating stuff isn't as fun as writing about big dramatic whirlwind affairs. yes, love can be stored in going to the grocery store together and cuddling and movie nights - but it's hard to get multiple albums worth of material out of the bliss of domestic mundanity

she is a woman in the public eye. her dating life has been heavily scrutinized by a million strangers since she was sixteen. publicly being seen with someone is in fact a big thing for her, even though she is a cishet white woman who historically has only dated cishet white guys

as much as she hypes up her work as autobiographical - she is capable of writing fiction and has done so before. to assume that every song is ripped straight from her diary seems like it's discrediting her own creativity (and, see point one)

and i think its fair to say that these themes she returns to of forbidden love and having to hide your feelings can absolutely resonate with queer audiences. yeah, i do think a lot of her songs probably hit harder if you imagine they're about a queer person. but relatability and identity are not the same thing, and i think it's important to both not assume that everyone with x identity has experienced y, but also to not assume that experiencing y means someone must have x identity.

however, there's another layer to this. if i were to tell a straight girl about my personal experiences with homophobia, and she responded by saying "i absolutely understand - my dad wouldn't let me date anyone until i was eighteen, i had to sneak boys in and out of the house" - i would understand this as well intentioned, but i might feel slighted or misunderstood by the fact that she considered society-wide discrimination equivalent to having to worry about getting in a fight with her dad. similarly, i've seen many gaylors express that taylor being an ally would make her absolutely unpalatable to them - if she's straight, that means she centered herself every time she talked about lgbt activism despite being heterosexual, that means all the lyrics about hidden relationships are actually about her public boring white boyfriends, that means she didn't ramp up her gay activism because she was planning on coming out and she just did it to promote her new album, that means there really aren't any more secrets to decode and she might actually be dating a football player. for a lot of gaylors, the gay subtext is in fact the entire reason they like taylor swift, and if she's a heterosexual woman, that means they have to find a new favorite artist

in case it's unclear: this is an outsiders perspective. i find gaylor stuff interesting in the same way i find paul is dead stuff interesting - the concept of this long running conspiracy theory surrounding celebrities is really fun for me. paul mccartney is alive, though, and taylor swift is, at least to my knowledge, heterosexual. i'm actually not really a taylor swift fan - i won't change the station if she comes on the radio, but i'm only familiar with her hits and also steadfastly believe that her being gay wouldn't outweigh the damage her jet has done to the environment. i don't have any investment in taylor's sexuality at all - if she's been secretly dating whatever woman she was most recently photographed with, ok cool. if she's actually for reals dating the football guy - cool. but i think a lot of gaylor stuff leans on starting from the assumption that she's queer and works back from that, which makes for poor theorycrafting. additionally, i think it's fuckin goofy to pretend the biggest pop star in the world would face career-ruining backlash for being gay, especially when she's made her stance on gay rights known. i can't imagine someone going "i thought the gay rights song was good and tasteful but knowing she herself is queer has ruined her for me". if she could come back from the kanye scandal, the jet thing, the dating a right-wing asshole thing - she will literally be fine, and to pretend otherwise is to ignore the plethora of other queer pop stars who are far less famous than her and still maintained their careers.

however, i do find that theory that she and harry styles committed vehicular manslaughter and had it covered up pretty funny. i will incorporate that one into my belief system.

[youngerdrgrey]

all the pieces aren't even in the box // the morning show, bradley/laura, chapter two

about: Bradley and Laura's last few months in Montana and how the world reacts along the way (and maybe how they find their way back to each other) ~ read chapter one chapter two summary: in mid-July 2020, the gulf between Bradley and Laura widens as Sandy's funeral approaches. Laura's well-meaning ideas could change their relationship forever.

notes: my friends have requested/actively campaigned that this is not solely a break-up story. (they're anti-break up in general. we'll see, but either way, there will be joy as well.) it's not long after chapter one. Here's Bradley Jackson to kick us off before Laura takes the reins again. (read chapter one on AO3)

mid J U L Y (2020)

Somehow Sandy Jackson’s funeral becomes the hottest ticket in West Virginia.

It’s not like Bradley can go either way, but suddenly everybody she’s ever known wants to go and pay their respects. And fucking Hal — bless him — he’s never made an e-vite in his life. Bradley’s the one who types up the information and sends him the template. All he has to do is input the emails and paste it on Facebook.

But when Hal finally fucking posts it, he’s taken out the note about masks and social distancing. Bradley calls him up immediately, but he screens her call. Of course she leaves a voicemail.

“Hal! Don’t make me call you again. I haven’t asked for much, but you’d think since our mom died of fucking Covid that you would keep the mask mandate at her funeral. Or do you wanna die too?”

Bradley winces as soon as the words leave her mouth.

It’s just the kind of shit her mom used to say. She can’t fucking put that on Hal. She doesn’t think he’s suicidal. He’s just…. He doesn’t use his head right. He doesn’t want to be uncomfortable because once he gets uncomfortable, he starts thinking about what makes him actually comfortable, and he’s not supposed to be doing any of that anymore. He’s managed to stay sober since Mom died. She can’t fucking push him to the edge now.

So she hits the button to re-record and snaps, “Don’t screen my calls. Call me back. I don’t want Mom’s funeral to be a superspreader. Just put the masks as optional if you have to.”

She hangs up so that version of the voicemail will go through. Huffs as her phone buzzes with another dozen RSVPs. Fucking Harvard boy Alan from South East News Network clicked maybe. He’d never even met her mom.

Who would’ve thought when you cussed out those coal protestors that you’d end up anchoring at UBA? Let me know if you’re coming back for the funeral. We should get coffee.

How in the fuck did he even see this?

.

.

Bradley spends the rest of the day on a warpath. She stomps ahead of Laura on their afternoon walk. She turns on a movie even though she knows Laura would rather watch another episode of SVU. She even finishes the coffee creamer and puts it back in the fridge instead of chucking it into the trash.

It’s not like it matters. She’s the one who has to take it out anyway. She’s the only one who ever leaves the house for real. She can go to the grocery store, but she can’t go say goodbye to the woman who raised her. She can talk to the whole country every morning, but talking to the rest of her family? Giving some emotional eulogy about who they lost, or why they have to fucking wear masks even though some random coworker on Facebook who hasn’t washed his hands in three years claims to be an expert on disease.

At least Laura takes it in stride. She pulls up a separate blanket for herself on the couch without comment. She pours her wine a little heavier and gives Bradley a wide berth for their unintended movie night. She’s more patient than Bradley deserves. More patient than Bradley would be in reverse. 

Bradley would’ve started emptying other things just to make the point of how fucking frustrating it is to have empty containers in the fridge. But Bradley’s a mess, and Laura is not. Laura has an entire ranch with horse stables and an in-home studio. A bookcase in her sitting room with her Emmy awards and her Pulitzer. A real life with real people who come over when she’s lonely and play charades in her backyard.

What does Bradley have? What has she ever had in this shitty world she’s trapped in?

Hal finally calls Bradley back an hour into the movie. Bradley waves Laura off before Laura even reaches for the remote.

“You can keep watching,” Bradley says as she gets up off the couch. 

She heads out the french doors to the backyard. Figures that way if she starts yelling at her brother Laura won’t freak out too much. Bradley’s gotta stop bringing chaos into Laura’s house. Wasn’t that what Laura said back in Nevada? No chaos. That’s why she cut off Alex. That and the outing, but it’s not like Bradley can out Laura a third time.

Hal launches into a speech the moment Bradley answers. He says, “I’ll have a box of masks there, but if I put that in the invite, that’s it. All they’ll talk about is masks and how vaccines won’t work once they’re ready. It’s a funeral, Bradley, not one of your debates.”

Bradley bites on her tongue so hard it stings. It’s not a debate either way, Hal. It’s basic science. 

She grinds out, “Fine. But where’s the Zoom link?”

“Come on, Brad.”

Her eyes flash. “Don’t ‘come on.’ There has to be a Zoom, or I won’t see it at all.”

“That’s not fair. I’m the one setting all this up.”

“And I’m the one paying for it! I’ve been making all the calls—“

“And I’m just the screw up who puts the tables out, huh?”

It’s a trap, but Bradley’s not letting it go. “You said it not me.”

“Yeah, I said it. You can make all the calls you want from your little girlfriend’s cabin, but I’m the one actually sitting in this shit.” Hal’s voice shakes. Like roof tiles in a thunderstorm. Garage doors on the way down. “You want to deal with all the fucking food in the deep freezer? All these shitty ass casseroles? You know the fridge couldn’t even close the other day? We should’ve had a death as kids. That would’ve filled it up.”

“Don’t say that.”

He’s not listening. He sounds manic. Not at full tilt, but ramping up. “Everybody’s got something to say. They miss her. They loved her. They’re full of shit. You know how many people called when she had Covid? Guess. Guess how many, Brad.”

Saddest fucking guessing game of her life. 

“I don’t know, four.” That’s Roberta from the church, Mary Anne from their old park, and Lewis from the senior center. He was sweet on their mom last Bradley heard. Better to her than their no good father ever could’ve been. Mom’s words.

“One. You.”

A chill rolls down her spine. Only one.

She averts her eyes out to Laura’s yard. Technically she’d been looking out that way before, but she wasn’t looking at first. It was just something to glare towards since she couldn’t glare at Hal. 

But there’s a squirrel picking at the open table fire pit. There’s probably some marshmallow if it digs deep enough. Laura dropped half of hers the other night. The s’mores were meant to be a pick-me-up for Bradley. They hadn’t been able to do them when Emma and Sam were over. Sandy’s death put a damper on their gay double date.

Sandy Jackson, for all her faults, didn’t deserve to die alone. A whole life, and the only people who checked on her were the kids who had to. Hal couldn’t avoid it. He lived there. And Bradley….

Maybe Hal was wrong. Maybe he missed the calls or the texts.

Bradley asks, “You sure? Nobody from the church?”

Hal sniffles. “Not until after she died. Then it was flowers by the screen door. Casseroles and all them knocking whenever they saw Ma’s car in the driveway. I put it in the garage. Turned off the lights so they’d leave me alone.”

Bradley’s heart aches. He used to do that as a boy. Sit in the dark during fights and try to see how quiet he could be. Like he could make himself small enough to just disappear. He should’ve grown out of that by now. He shouldn’t still be so damn afraid of being alive.

“What about Sheryl?” That’s Hal’s girlfriend. “Why don’t you go to her place? Hide out over there.”

“Like you and Laura?” Hal huffs. “I’m fine here.”

“You’re not fine. You’re —“

“I’m fine. Sitting in the dark’s a lot better than getting high. You want something to fix? Help me keep Dad from showing up.”

Bradley freezes. She hasn’t heard from their dad since she started on TMS. He’d called her out of the blue, and she’d told him never to talk to her again. Was he still talking to Hal? She can’t stop that. She can’t let him back into her life.

She must take too long to say something because Hal huffs a second time.

He says, “Didn’t think so. Forget it. You want a Zoom, then send a link. I don’t have the fancy one. Mine’ll cut off after an hour.”

“Alright.” Her voice sounds too soft. Quiet. Weak. She repeats herself with force behind it. “Alright, I’ll send you a link. Add it into the invite. Tell everybody they can log in if they don’t want to go in person.”

She knows as she says it that he won’t do that. He’ll add the link, but he won’t make the suggestion. He wants all those people there. He wants the strangers and the church fellowship and the fans who only go to see if Bradley will show up. He wants a village. And she can’t give him that.

“I gotta go, Brad.”

“Yeah, me too. Laura’s… watching a movie.” Bradley can’t remember which one now. “Call me if something else comes up.”

“Yeah, sure.” He hesitates, but he clicks off without saying that he loves her. 

“Love you too,” she says to nobody.

.

.

Laura isn’t watching the movie when Bradley walks back in. It’s paused on nearly the same screen Bradley left it on. An immature part of Laura had wanted to change the channel while Bradley was gone. They were meant to watch SVU tonight. Bradley knew that, but the blonde’s been lashing out in little ways.

She lets the trash overflow before taking it out. She makes her own coffee while Laura’s in the shower and stews in the studio until show time. She stops calling Laura babe.

But Bradley is allowed to be upset that her mom died. Bradley gets to react to that. Would Laura like if the reaction didn’t feel targeted at her? Of course. That does not change the fact that this is how Bradley needs to grieve. Laura can give her that. Until after the funeral at least.

So Laura finishes her first glass of wine and pours a second. Picks up the book on attachment styles that she’s only partially reading out of passive aggression. And she waits for her girlfriend to come back. And if it feels like she’s still waiting, even as Bradley returns and settles back onto the couch beside her, well, that’s between Laura and her next therapy appointment.

“How’s Hal?” Laura asks. 

Bradley circles her jaw, but she doesn’t make a sound. Not the worst call then. “He invited half of West Virginia to Mom’s funeral. Everybody will be there.” Except her. “Except me.”

Laura closes her book to reach for her wine. Says without thinking, “You’re welcome to go. You’d just—“

“Quarantine when I got back, I know,” Bradley finishes. Laura’s jaw ticks. Another little rebellion. Bradley’s eyes flash with recognition. “I cut you off.”

“You were right this time.” Not to do it, but about what Laura would have said.

If Bradley goes to the funeral, then they won’t see each other for nearly three weeks. There’s the nearly two thousand miles from Montana to the other side of country. The day for the ceremony and another to help Hal clean up before Bradley turns around to drive all two thousand miles again. Then two weeks of quarantining. That’s only if Bradley doesn’t catch Covid from anyone out there.

“Three weeks,” Bradley voices. “It’s not forever. You know Emma and Sam could come over. Have some s’mores. Talk all about me when I’m not inside cutting the strawberries.” She says it like it’s an actual possibility. Like it could be a change of pace and not the first step in their death march.

What if Bradley gets sick? What if she can’t leave West Virginia again? What if her case is serious, and Laura can’t get to her without it literally killing them both?

But if Laura doesn’t let Bradley go, isn’t that another end in and of itself? They’ve barely been dating five months. Four if they count from when they became official instead of when they kissed in Iowa. And again in New York. In Bradley’s hotel.

Five months is too soon to restrict somebody’s movements. Not quite restrict; it’s not an act of control. It’s an act of consideration. A relationship is compromise and partnership. Five months is too short a time to ask for this kind of sacrifice. If Laura even asks, she’ll sound unreasonable. Desperate and delusional. What kind of partner would Laura be to ask Bradley to miss her own mother’s funeral?

So Laura takes a heavier sip from her wine. Drinks until she can’t breathe and the only thing on her tongue is the black cherry notes in her cabernet sauvignon.

Bradley looks mildly concerned, but below that, underneath the fire that she barely tamps down, she looks hopeful. Laura can’t snuff that out.

Her mouth’s dry as she tries not to croak, “It’s not forever.”

Bradley almost squeals. She flips her phone over instantly. “I’ll message Gayle. She can coordinate with Stella and Mia. I won’t tell Hal until it’s official. Don’t want to get his hopes up if I can’t get another day off. D'you think Alison will do it, or do we need to see who else is available?”

She talks without looking at Laura. It’s for the best. Laura keeps a smile on her face, and she nods along, but all she really hears is three weeks. You’re welcome to go. And Bradley’s squeal at the thought of leaving Laura here alone.

.

.

read chapter three

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. It was mostly just a sunny day where I got to be lazy and work for a few hours in the middle and that was just really nice.

I slept a little better last night. I really love my new bear Louie. He is a really great size for holding. The only real sleep issue I had was being a little cold.

I woke up with my alarm at 9. And laid in bed for a half hour before I finally dragged myself out of bed and made the bed and left the bed. This was very traumatic obviously. But I would struggle through.

I got washed and dressed but I hated my original outfit. It just did not work the way I had imagined. So I chose a new outfit and it was still not the best but it was more comfortable. I really love this orange sweater. But because it's acrylic it gets very hot very fast. Thankfully (?) it was very cold in here today.

I would spend the first part of the morning cleaning up a bit. I vacuumed and would continue battling the scourge that is the snails. I did just discover that the probable reason that the fish tank has not had the same issues is because loaches eat snails. So kitty kitty being alive this whole time may have been helping me. Amazing. So now I might get another loach for the frog tank. Or maybe a small catfish. We will see. Because it doesn't seem to be getting better. My periodic vacuuming of the excess food is helping for sure but not as much as I would hope. At least they are keeping the water very clear.

I really really wanted cereal. I heard once that if you are craving cereal it's an iron or mineral issue. So I got myself together and walked to the grocery store.

I got my cereal and a few other little things. And then right back home for breakfast. I had my cereal and Sweetp kept headbutting me. Being such a baby. We would lay together until noon. Watching videos. But then it was time to go.

I drove to awah. Parked and had a weird interaction with a woman on a bike. I was parking and she was acting like I was cutting her off and I was so confused. But it was whatever. I got myself inside and was just putting my things down when the phone started to ring???? A parent was there a half hour early. I was not happy. I hadn't even set up anything yet. I was alone. This was not cool.

But it would be fine. It just made that first half hour decidedly rushed. Because then I had my substitute assistant, Joan, come and Mary Ellen and I had to keep running back and forth and it was just a lot.

But in the end it was fine. The first class was quick! They all pretty much finished their work within the first half hour. I was.prrtty surprised. But they were still fun. I really enjoyed talking to them. Sierra specifically continues to open up to me. Her sister Tiffany continues to not like.paint, which is totally fine. But Sierra is always funny about dates and she was super concerned about when the last date she would be able to take classes ever was. And when we finally understood what she was asking I told her she could move to the adult class when she was 18 and then as long as we have the class she can keep coming forever. She's so sweet. I don't always understand her but I do like her.

Since everyone finished so quickly me, Mary Ellen, and Joan just hung out and talked. I told them about me and James DC trip and all the indigenous art we saw and how I got so wrapped up in that lately. Talked about puhtok and it was just really nice to chat. But soon it was the top of the hour and the adult class was coming in.

Overall this was a good class. There is one student who obsessively talks about movies and was driving another student, Brian, a little crazy I think. But eventually he calmed down and worked on his work and poor Brian was able to work in peace.

And then one of the student's aids came in with a very bizarre energy and was like can I put on music?? And I had to shut that down quickly because the last time I tried to play music everyone freaked. They like a quiet space. But I think she was surprised I told her no. She did make a very nice painting though.

Richard made 3 paintings and was teasing me which I thought was great. And it was just a really fun time.

Joan apparently normally works with preschoolers and she was I think a little unsure of what to do with herself when the group was so self directed. And honestly it's the best part about this group. Sometimes I even get to make art with them when I feel like it. It was a good day.

We cleaned up and Andrew, one of my favorite students, helped out and then insisted on shaking my hand at the end and we did it very big and over exaggerated and it was a silly little moment and I thought that was lovely. I really like my class. Even if working Sundays is a little tough I am almost always so happy after. Absolutely worth it.

After everything was put away I would alarm the building and walked out with Joan and Mary Ellen. I sat in my car writing my notes for the week. And then I went home.

When I got back here I didn't really want to do much. I thought about reorganizing the studio but I only got so far as picking up the fabric scraps off the floor and throwing them away. Then putting our costume stuff into a totebag. Then I just couldn't do it anymore.

I went and got changed. And got cozy on the couch to play animal crossing. At least I could be creative in there. And I had a lot of fun doing that.

I would design two island homes. The first one was a sewing room with an outdoor garden space. Then I made a farm with the entire inside of the house a country style farmhouse and I think it came out so cute.

James got home while I was working on the second one. We talked and hung out for a little while. Eventually, after I finished building my farm, I passed the controller to them so they could play the new game they got and I would go get cozy in bed because I was so cold.

I was in bed for a while. James made me a tortilla pizza for dinner. And put a heating pad on my legs. Which hurt a lot today. Mainly the fronts of my ankles but also my knees a little. Stretching them is helping. The hot bath I took after the sun went down helped a lot too.

And now we are in bed. Watching our vampire show again. It has been fun watching it with them.

And now Sweetp is here. Being a goober. Headbutting and kneading us. Love my little kitty so much.

Tomorrow me and James will be picking up Anne and Tucker and driving up to visit my parents. I'm excited to see them and have a nice meal together. I hope it's a fun day.

Sleep well everyone. I love you all. Be safe.

[witchthewriter]

Hello! I was wonder if I could get a level three for shipping? I wanted to choose Harry Potter, Twilight, and Maze Runner. I really love your fanfic’s especially Ron and Neville’s 😭🫶🏿

☀️- Aries

🌙- Capricorn

⬆️- Capricorn

MBTI- ENTJ

Gryffindor house

I’m a bisexual woman with she/her pronouns

I’m 5’2 with mid length to long ginger hair, I’m a dark skin black woman and I’m midsize/curvy

Personality- I am a very open happy go lucky person! I love making friends and I adore romance! I live with little shame just outgoing I guess but I get flustered around certain people. I’m very focused and passionate and I give a lot to the people I love!

Trait’s- impatient, loving, compassionate, artistic, smart, eccentric, funny, talkative, stubborn, determined, little impulsive, situationally disorganized, sometimes hard to talk to, sweet

Likes:ocean, reading, clothes, astrology, K-pop, art, food, animals, love, Disney, fairy tales, ice skating, drama, tea, Harry Potter, Starwars, reading, playing the violin, learning languages, anime,movie and character analysis, soft things, bunnies, sims 4, decor

Dislikes:bugs, nasty people, rude people,snarky people, show offs, liars, spiders, slow walkers

Fun facts: can do impression, I’m a collector especially of figures, even though I’m disorganized sometimes I really do love organizing

Also if you do anon emojis could I be 💌

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

You picked the perfect fandoms by the way!!! Also what are anon emojis??? I feel so old omg

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏:  ✧ Kind-hearted ✧ Sweet ✧ Sensitive 

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Neville Longbottom! You guys would be such a great match; he could talk for hours and hours. And that’s probably happened before, and you guys stayed up all night, and then looked outside and realised the sun had come up!

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・I think Neville knits - honestly, I do. And he would knit you all kinds of clothing; sweaters/jumpers, socks, scarfs, hats, etc. 

・In your home, you have an abundance of plants ... okay that’s a weird word to use, but you have so much greenery that anyone who enters cannot help but feel calmer

・So !!!! Much !!!!! Dancing !!!! Neville LOVES to slow dance, which was sparked in 4th year - the Yule Ball

・Loves when you run your fingers through his hair, he literally turns into mush!

・ Relationship Tropes:

  ↬ Clueless Love

  ↬ Gomez And Morticia Adams

  ↬ Two Nerds Nerding Out About Nerd Stuff

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Seth Clearwater! The cutie-patootie! I think you’re the female version of Seth to be completely honest. You’re both such a ray of sunshine! You met Seth because you were great friends with Leah. You being her only female friend ...

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Would get rid of spiders for you, but doesn’t have the heart to kill them, so he secretly takes them outside and lets them go

・He would actually LOVE listening and learning about Astrology with you - he finds it fascinating. (I agree with the theory that the more a man hates astrology, the more misogynistic he is ...)

・Seth would always make sure that you’re not hungry - and I’m talking ... he would jump in the car and drive you to the nearest drive-thru, or grocery store, run in and get you everything you want. 

・Oh and he always warms you up! Would give you his jacket without a seconds hesitation. And would most definitely give you his shoes if yours were hurting you!!!!!!!!

・HE IS THE BIGGEST GENTLEMAN, AND THE BEST BOYFRIEND ANYONE COULD EVER HAVE 

・ Relationship Tropes:

  ↬ Best Friend’s Brother

  ↬ Mutual Pining

  ↬ Awkward x Flustered

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Newt! I think he’s the most suited to your personality. Especially since you remind me of a mix between Luna  (Harry Potter), Alice (Twilight) and Lucy (Narnia). You’re both very caring people who would rather be around others than on their own. 

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・He likes when you rest your head on his shoulder, or when you fall asleep on him. It makes him giddy inside <3

・You show each other a lot of affection because neither of you has experienced it much. 

・You always make sure that he’s okay and that his leg isn’t hurting him too much. At times it can really cause him grief, but he never shows it. 

・He loves hearing you talk about anything, but especially your hobbies, passions, and some good ol’ gossip!

・ Relationship Tropes:

  ↬  Person A: Affection??        Person B: Affection!!!

  ↬  Shy, Insecure x Thinks The Other Is Incredible (MAJOR HEART EYES)

  ↬  Reunion Romance

[sallysgrancanwrite]

Chapter One

Chloe was a beautiful woman. In fact it was amazing she wasn't married already. She had long auburn colored hair, that she often wore up, because of work. Her eyes were a deep blue and twinkled when she smiled or laughed, which was almost always. She was average in height, maybe 5'5 and was small.

She worked at Gramma B's Cafe on the West side of Maple Falls, South Carolina. It was a small town and everyone knew everyone. Sometimes that could really be a pain in the ass, but most of the time the people here were wonderful and Chloe wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

There was Sam Jefferies that ran the local garage. If you fall on hard times, he's your guy, he will always work with you. There is Martha and Stan Smithfield who run the grocery store as well as the convenience store. They're a wonderful couple. They are an older couple that never had children but have always put money into the town's youth programs. The B&B is run by two sisters, Hannah and Georgia Aldermen. Sweet ladies who never had the desire to marry.

It was a town that waved when you drove by, said hi when you walked by. The ladies talked gossip in the beauty shop run by Luanne, or as everyone called her LuLu. As for the older retired men there was the front of the old Hardware Store run by Curtis McGovern. The old men would sit for hours talking about the old days, politics and how this Country is going to hell in a handbasket. Life was pretty slow in Maple Falls. Nothing moved at a fast pace. It was quiet until Football season anyway. Everyone rooted for their Hawks.

Chloe wasn't really into football. She would rather curl up with a book or watch an old movie. She dreamed of finding someone like Clark Gable or Humphrey Bogart. Her parents wondered if she would ever get married. John and Betty Harman only had Chloe. It had been a tough pregnancy and a hard labor, a premature birth. Betty was never able to have children again. Needless to say Chloe got almost everything she wanted. There were limits, her parents were still strict and weren't afraid to say no.

Chloe loved her job at the Cafe. She got to talk to the town's people and see how they all were. They all loved her. She was a bright spot in everyone's morning, and her smiling face and happy disposition made getting the day started a lot easier. She rarely had a bad day, or wasn't smiling.

As much as she loved her job she didn't enjoy always being set up on blind dates. She could say no, but the older folks meant well and she didn't want to hurt them. Bob and Edith Coleburn were one such couple. They insisted that their son, Tom, was a perfect match. After being asked over and over she agreed to have dinner with him. It was awful.

"So Chloe, you're a waitress? How well is that as far as income and paying the bills?" Chloe was stunned. Why would he want to know that? It's personal information.

"Yes Tom, I’m a waitress. As far as my income, I do just fine paying my bills."

"Oh please, don't take the question wrong. I guess my parents didn't tell you, I'm an accountant and I have a bad habit of talking taxes with people. I apologize.” He ordered them white wine and a plate of lobster and crab. It was a good thing I like seafood because I was not consulted, thought Chloe. Then he proceeded to talk about…yep, taxes and money the rest of the night and drank himself silly.

Chloe drove them to her place. He managed to walk to the porch. "How about we go in and have a nightcap?" That's all he needed was another drink. Chloe walked him in, sat him down and called his parents to come and get him.

"Oh Chloe, we are so sorry about how he has behaved. Won't you give him another chance?" Bob and Edith both looked at her so sweetly that for a minute Chloe almost gave in. But no, she couldn't go through another date with Tom.

"Edith, Bob, I love you both but Tom and I are just too different. We didn't click. I'm sorry."

Edith quickly gave her a hug. "Don't worry about hurting anyone's feelings darling. You have to do what makes you happy. That's all we want or have ever wanted. When your parents passed away in the car crash, and we took you in, we made a promise that your life would be a happy one. Eventually you will find Mr. Right."

Tom was already grown and in the Marines when Chloe's parents died in that horrible car accident. A drunk driver crossed the line and right into her parent's vehicle. The only relief, if there was any, was that they died instantly and didn't suffer. Chloe was in High School by then but Edith and Bob took her in and helped through her last few years of school. She didn't have any other family so they became family. Tom was a nice guy, but he definitely was not her type. Accounting and numbers were not her thing. She was known to make a complete mess of her checkbook. So no, numbers aren't her thing.

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29, 1992 I am watching A Current Affair and next is Hard Copy. Then at 8:00, I’ll record Unsolved Mysteries while I watch a movie called They Live. I’ll be pissed if Unsolved Mysteries is a repeat, but I know it will be. I swear they only make 10-15 shows of each series these days, then keep repeating them. So far, America’s Most Wanted, Top Cops, Cops and Rescue 911 have been good. They’ve occasionally aired stories I’ve seen on Unsolved Mysteries. I miss Reasonable Doubts and it’s a bummer they canceled it. If I could bring back 3 shows besides that, they’d be Twin Peaks with Sheryl Lee as a blond and not with that tacky black wig. Also, Charlie’s Angels and the Bionic Woman.

Monday evening while I was watching a movie, Ann Marie left a message on my machine. She said she got a second job at another grocery store doing the same thing she does at the other store. Meat wrapping. She said she’d like to come see me but is too busy. She’d call me Tuesday on her day off. Well, she never did. I have no idea what’s going on in her life but perhaps I should be careful and just wait. Like I said, if Ann Marie never returned after our first encounter all would be well. But I’d really like to hang onto her and get together once or twice a month. Or every other month. It’ll take another 5-10 years to find another feminine girl who’s attractive and as nice. Plus, she is a good person who thinks a lot like me and I’d never have reason to feel threatened by her. With her wanting anything serious, I mean. Not even if we were neighbors. She’s far from a Brenda S character.

Perhaps if I don’t see her by July or so, I’ll put out a personal ad.

I haven’t seen Jessie. She’s no doubt very busy with all that’s been going on. I really doubt she wants to ever see me here. To talk on the phone, yes, but I haven’t seen her in over a year. Seems to me if you really miss your friend and want to see them, you’ll do something about it. Current Location: Connecticut

SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1992 Soon I’m going to bed, so I’ll quickly fill in on other stuff so I’m all caught up. Laurie did return my money as I knew she would. I got Fran’s new phone number. I’ve written several letters and looked at a 4-room apartment today. What is it with the bathrooms in this city? You can’t get both a tub and a shower. It’s either one or the other. It was in an old 3-story house. The living room and one of the bedroom’s huge so it compensates well. In the bathroom, there’s only a toilet and a shower stall which means I’d have to brush my teeth in the kitchen sink. This guy also owns a Laundromat and says he has a nicer and bigger place over the Laundromat but he can’t show it to me till May 11th. This one only has a tub. I’ll wait to see it as well as check out other places. The area was definitely quieter. Both places are $400 with no utilities included.

Later…

I came over to Tammy’s at 3:00 this afternoon. I did two loads of laundry. Tammy and Bill are now at a party. I showed Tammy this makeup kit I got through the mail under a bogus name. She did her hair and her makeup, and when Bill came in he gave me a kiss and took a shower.

Bill had a look in his eyes as if to say, “I love you. Let’s not fight,” which was cool.

Tammy made the girls and me fried chicken and French fries. After they left, the girls and I had a water gun fight and we cleaned their rooms. We had ice cream too, and now we’re watching TV.

FRIDAY, APRIL 24, 1992 Several things have happened since I last wrote and one of them wasn’t so funny. I’ll update all the little stuff first. Laurie’s definitely straight and hung up on her boyfriend.

Lyle moved and stood me up tonight and two nights ago about taking me to practice and a gig. Last Monday night, Lyle and his kids and I went to one other band member’s house. The bass player. I also met the drummer and the other guitarist. They were all nice and the rehearsal went well. I was ticked off about being stood up with Wednesday’s rehearsals. I gave up going to the Sheridan that night to end up doing nothing. That night at the Sheridan there was supposed to be the same modeling and search seminar that Kim and I were going to go to in Springfield till her car got rammed. It ain’t meant to be. Now I know that for sure. Plus, a business like that is a sure way to meet all kinds of rapists and perverts. Even more so than music.

Next time I speak to Rick, I’m gonna demand some facts. Will he transport me instead of Lyle? Is he serious? Does he really want me in his band? Did he speak to Mitch from the country & western band? In plain simple English, I wanna know what’s going on. Over and over he complimented me on my singing, guitar playing and even the keyboards. So what’s wrong? I’ve never stood them up or said or done anything I shouldn’t have. Why do they always back out? Is this my compensation for being hired twice in only 5 auditions total? When will I ever get someone who’s serious?

I just saw a show with people like me who have premonitions, visions and have made predictions. But if it’s so meant to be, as I’ve always felt, when is serious shit gonna start happening? I’m reluctant to mention this to Tammy and Bill cuz they’re only gonna twist shit around or pin the blame on me. They put words in my mouth while they insist they’re not calling me a liar. A major example is last Easter Sunday. On Easter, Bill’s sister and niece were over for a big dinner. That was the day I woke up at 10 AM with a bad attack after only 4 hours of sleep. The previous 4 or 5 days I’d only slept a few hours also. I was unable to sleep at night and was always being woken up by next door. And believe it or not, I was in the living room asleep with the earplug in. I knew I couldn’t control the attack and called 911.

Barbara came over and I rambled on about how hard the complications were to deal with at times. She told the EMTs we’re on two different schedules. Suddenly I became worried about how to get back home. I knew there were no buses and that Tammy was tied up. Tammy has had and is having her share of physical and mental anguish. I did not want her or anyone else to know my business and there was nothing she could do. Especially when Barbara came out and said she’d bring me home. I had no idea after they took me away and she locked up that she was gonna call Tammy, but she did.

After I was treated and released, there was a message that Tammy had called the hospital and for me to call her. Although she encourages me saying that if anyone could work things out it was me, she’s siding with Barbara, saying I let myself get stressed out and I should’ve stayed home. First of all, this situation is no one’s fault, although it has been quieter next door and easier to sleep. I also don’t “let” myself get all stressed out and in this situation, it’s pretty hard to avoid it. Lastly, you know when you can’t control an attack and need oxygen and an updraft. There’s no guessing and assuming you can control it at home. I’ve had enough experience with this to know. The EMTs said the same thing. That was really low of her about the stress, partly after her saying she herself had to go to the ER due to Ma’s shit when Ma was there last summer. Ma’s a bitch, but I’d rather one day with her than to live here and deal with this place on a daily basis. I never once came out and blamed her for bringing on her own stress and saying I don’t feel sorry for her, she asked for it, etc.

She asked me why I call Barbara up and cuss her out which is BS, and Barbara can tell her so like she told me she would.

That’s what pissed me off about Tammy. Now here’s what pissed me off about Bill.

Tammy and Barbara misunderstood each other about who’d be picking me up. Eventually, Bill did and Tammy was upset about that which wasn’t my fault. When Bill picked me up I asked him to stop at a gas station. The drugstores and everything else were closed. I told him I had to get a few things. He said cigarettes were what I wanted and I said yes, that was one of the things. I said loud and clear, cigarettes, candy and pads. He said they don’t sell pads there. I said they did cuz I’d seen them before in there. However, they were out of stock with them so I got some cigarettes and a candy bar. When I got in the van, he said, “Don’t fuck with me. I know you got cigarettes.”

I said, “Yes I did and I told you on the way here that I was getting them.” I also told him he’s not my daddy and I’m not a child and I had no reason to lie or feel intimidated by him or anyone else.

Tammy said Bill said I never left the counter. I didn’t need to as the place is so small. You can see everything from the counter. She said, “No one’s calling you a liar, but my husband wouldn’t lie.”

I said, “You guys are my sister and brother-in-law. Not my parents and your husband IS a liar.”

She hung up on me and called back the next day as if nothing ever happened.

SUNDAY, APRIL 12, 1992 Earlier, I spoke with Laurie. I even lent her $10 which is something I never do, but thanks to my sixth sense, I know she’s good for the money. In return, Laurie did me a big favor. She has a washing machine and she let me do two loads.

Last night I spoke to Lyle over at his place. I played him some edits. He still really wants to move as well as Laurie and I do and he hates some of the people here. They gossip, but that’s life no matter where you live.

I hung my clothes all over the place to dry, and Tammy said I can do any laundry at her place Wednesday. She needs to go to the fire department for a blood drive they’re having, so I’ll be babysitting while she’s gone.

We had a few days of fairly nice weather where it was around 60º. Now we’re having a chilly spell again. I really wish more than ever that it’d warm up. I can’t wait to see Andy and go to the beach.

Tomorrow I should be getting a call from a woman named Laurie about an apartment. She’s currently trying to evict the guy living there now due to him not paying rent.

Gee, all the Lauries I’ve been meeting lately!

I went to the state welfare people and I’ll be going back soon for a photo ID for food stamps. They’re only $15 here, but if I get this apartment they’ll go up as the rent’s $425. I will also get the cash assistance I can’t get here. I wanna hurry up and beat the summer as far as moving. It’s a war zone outside in the freezing cold winter until 7 PM, so one can only imagine the summertime when the kids are out of school. Also, cuz of next door’s noise. These walls are so thin that we may as well all live in the same apartment. I hate this apartment with a passion!

Later…

I just got off the phone with Kim who sounds like she’s in a great mood. We went on and on with our lines and stuff like that. She says she’ll write another letter as well as come see me. She said she thought about just showing up here and surprising me. Soon her orientation will be over, so she’s gonna come see me then. Maybe within a month. I wasn’t about to say hello to Mark as he’s at work, but we had a good talk anyway. I really do miss Kim and I sure as hell miss my apartment.

I have tons of letters to write but I’m not gonna start them tonight.

Andy had called Laurie H for 5 minutes about a bogus 963 form. A scene of an accident, supposedly. I wanted to get her taped to be edited. I played Kim part of that. I edited Laurie but I have much more to do as far as other stuff. I edited the CP lady from a few recent calls with her and Fran.

I guess I have rehearsals tomorrow night at Rick’s house. Lyle will have to let me know.

I hope that girl Laurie calls with some good news on the apartment. I have no good vibe but I also have no bad vibe. I must begin getting boxes and prepare myself for if I have to move fast in order to get a place they can only hold for so long.

Not much else has been happening. Last Friday, Tammy, Becky and Sarah were here. Only for a few seconds as Tammy needed to go shopping. She took me and my guitar with her and I played it with the girls while she was in the store.

As for Laurie, I highly doubt anything will happen. Sexually, I mean. I think she’s straight.

I never heard from Ann Marie, but I left her a message on her machine a little while ago.

Why do the people next door need to bang so much? Even at this hour with their kids asleep, 30 seconds don’t pass without a slam, bang or chairs and tables sliding.

I have two shrubs right outside my front door and having 20 kids in them screaming at the top of their lungs was no joy ride. I told them they can play all they want, but not directly under my windows and on my doorstep. With the way they’re always playing and throwing balls, I’m amazed they haven’t smashed a window yet. Not just mine, but anybody’s.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 8, 1992 I tried to sleep but as usual, I can’t. I feel really shitty and can’t wait to see a doctor as much as I hate seeing them and antibiotics. I also need to do a hell of a cleaning job in here.

Damn! Do I need to quit smoking or what? I guess at this point if being able to breathe means always dying for a cigarette and gaining 20-30 pounds then that’s what I’ll need to do.

If Andy doesn’t call by 1:15 then I’m gonna go to bed and I’ll just lay there even if I can’t sleep.

Last night I had a nice talk with Jessie. She called and we spoke for over an hour. She’s very upset with her father and several other people in her family. Her grandfather also died and she fears her grandmother may go any minute too, due to having cancer and other problems.

God, do I ever feel like shit now. My chest is so tight and I’m so tired. I definitely cannot sleep well here. Who could? In MA my schedule was weirder but at least I slept. I seldom lacked sleep like this. The more you lack, the harder it is to catch up. Sounds funny, but it is true.

I hope Lyle has no problem with bringing me to the ER tomorrow. He said he would and he seems pretty reliable. He said he’d knock on my door. Believe it or not, I do have some good news as I mentioned before. Practice was canceled last Monday night as there was a problem with other band members. What, I don’t know. It worked out for the better as Rick was over here that evening. Even he said he was glad it turned out that way as he had no idea about my guitar and keyboard playing. The sooner the better he said so he could alter the sets, songs and work these things in. Since there are 4 of us in the band, he may have me play either guitar or keyboards every now and then as we may have to drop to only 3 of us at times. One of the guys in the band can’t always get out of work, so that’s when I’d fill in. He was so impressed with my guitar and keyboard playing that I was a little shocked. He said, “You’re way beyond basic chords only and you made it sound like you knew very little.” He really really was like, wow! I told him that was flattering and he said, “It’s not flattering. It’s telling it like it is.” So that’s cool and I spoke to dad on his birthday and I’ll write a letter with more details when things get going. Rick said that now that he’s heard me play, he’s gonna change stuff around but that it was worth it.

As far as Laurie goes, I highly doubt she’s ever into women. If so, not me as she’s made no real attempts to talk to me much. Then again, she no doubt assumes I’m straight and doesn’t know me from a can of paint as Tracy used to say. Usually, if you know someone’s gay or not and you like them, you at least try to talk to them, get to know them and find out what you can. This doesn’t change the fact that she’s attractive but I feel she may be one of those who tries to mold a person into what she’d like them to be.

Well, Andy’s late on calling me as he usually is so I’m gonna go to sleep.

Later…

Yes, of course, I’m still up. I took an extra half Theo pill so I do feel better. Less tight. I knew Andy wouldn’t call. Think I’ll go listen to music now.

Later…

I am outside sitting on my back steps as I write this. It’s a beautiful day. More summery rather than spring. After winter there’s hardly any spring before it goes right into summer. Shadow’s taking a nap in a pile of leaves. Jenny, Layne and her sister Jessica are playing jump rope. One of Barb’s sons and his friend are now joining in the game along with playing with their basketball.

I chatted with Barb and Dave and Dave’s gonna look around for a used washer for me. I hope I move soon, though. Barb and Dave and their kids know I like them and I know they like me, but living in a building like this sucks.

On my way back from paying the rent, earlier, I ended up speaking to some guys who asked about the band. They’re friends of Lyle’s.

Also, a black woman (I think her name’s Ronda) and I chatted for a while. I met her son who also knows Lyle and Barbara.

Right after I last wrote and began listening to music, Andy did call. He wanted to wait till after 11:00 his time for the cheaper rates now that he’s 3 hours behind again.

I feel better today but I’m still pretty gunked up with congestion. I’m not sure if I’m going to the ER later. We’ll see what’s up with Lyle. I dusted and vacuumed today, had all the windows open so that should help. Cuz this place is on the ground and is so small, just opening my back and front doors airs the place out well.

I got another letter from Bob which is typical Bob. The man is only happy like twice a year. Both his childhood and his adult life are a million times worse than mine. Knowing how mine was tells me something…that his sucked.

Later…

I am now on the phone with Andy and Fran. They’ve spoken to the CC and with Melissa who was boring, though. Andy’s doing his cactus and palm tree problem. I’m his crazy little sister and Fran’s the crazy visitor from next door. They just hung up but Fran called both me and Andy and we were on the phone for an hour and a half.

I went to the ER and was amazed at how quickly I was in and out of there. Lyle took me, along with his son and daughter Naomi and Kevin. Lyle’s sister had a baby girl so he had wanted to see her, but it was too late. Lyle’s gonna go see her tomorrow when he gets home from work and I’ll be babysitting for the kids. At the ER I got Theo and Amoxicillin. I also got those Lactaid tablets which do help.

Tomorrow I have my appointment at the state welfare office.

I sure hope I get some sleep even if it is only a few hours as I got up at 1:00.

I went over to Barb and Dave’s today telling them they were gonna die laughing at my request, but they know it’ll work. I told them how most of the time I set my alarm, yet even wearing no earplugs I never can wake up to it, so can they wake me up? Therefore, before she leaves for work, she’s gonna bang on my bedroom wall which is her living room wall. Funny, huh?

I have more tapes to edit. I have tons and tons of editing to do.

Lyle says he may be getting a 3-bedroom house on a farm within a week. Either way, he says he’s moving whether or not he gets the house. I said I’d join him in apartment hunting as I’ve got to get the hell out too. The people I’ve met are nice but there’s so much I hate dealing with here. The walls are too thin. The outside is a zoo till 9 PM. This summer it will be a zoo from 8 AM-midnight once school’s out and the weather’s warm. Also, this apartment sucks. It’s way too small and I sure do miss showers as much as I also enjoy baths. I hope that by the time I’ve finished the next journal I’m out of this dive. Hopefully way before, but who really knows? I’ve got to start picking up newspapers and looking for a place that’s no more than $500 a month. Hopefully, a place on a bus line in a decent size place even if it’s not as big as the Woodside Terrace apartment. A fairly quiet place, too. It’s dead quiet here at night compared to Locust St., but the noise in the daytime more than makes up for it.

TUESDAY, APRIL 7, 1992 Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better. They sure started off shitty, though. After barely 3 hours of sleep and wearing my earplug, they fucking woke me up next door.

I called the state supplement people about moving into a private apartment here. Cuz my rent’s already subsidized, I won’t qualify for a cash supplement. I will get food stamps and medical, though. If I got a $400 apartment they’d give me a check for $200 on top of my $442 from SS and SSI. If I got a $500 place, I’d get a check for $300 besides my $442. Also, more food stamps. I was told I can begin looking for an apartment ASAP. Lyle will help along with others he knows. Dave says he can get a truck and will save boxes for me. I’ve got much more to write about as far as Rick and the band and also Jessie, but I want to see Geraldo first.

Andy is to be calling around 1:00 my time. Maybe around midnight. I’m so tired, though, and don’t know if I can stay awake. That’s lucky for me, though, as I really must catch up on my sleep. Plus, I need to be up early to go to the state disability and welfare office Thursday morning. I feel pretty shitty due to the drastic temperature changes. It’s gonna be warming up but that’s ok with me. As you know, 2-3 times a year I need antibiotics when my congestion builds up. It’s been not too cool for a while now and it’s probably infectious by now or well on its way. Tomorrow Lyle said he’d take me to the ER. That’s the only place I can go till I get my cards. Barbara took me to a walk-in clinic but they wouldn’t see me saying they have no federal funding. I at least got my meds refilled.

MONDAY, APRIL 6, 1992 Boy, do I have lots to write about! And good stuff, too! I got in a band!!!!!! So soon too, since I’ve only been here barely two months is amazing. Shockingly it was my first audition.

Early last Friday night, my sister gave me the best lecture ever telling me not to give up. Don’t back out. Gloria never backed out. Follow your dreams, conquer your fears and go out with Lyle to the bar and go for it. So Lyle, who’s not in the band, took me to a bar in Ledyard to meet his friend Rick. Rick’s the leader of the band and has been friends with Lyle for years. Lyle’s job is to help with the equipment and the sound system. It was a small bar, not sleazy and no one bothered me.

This isn’t the band Rick’s normally in and which I’d be in, hopefully. He was filling in for someone who was sick, I guess and was friends with the drummer, Carl. This particular band (I don’t know the name of it) was a country band. The one I’ll be in is geared more toward soft rock. A mix of various types of music but no hard rock or heavy metal. Thank God. Everything happened so fast that night. I was completely blown out of my mind and shocked. Too shocked to feel nervous or much of anything but I had a great time and was glad I went. As the story unfolds, you’ll see why all I kept saying to myself was - oh my God. I sat with Lyle as he operated the sound and controlled the equalizers and all that. He put headphones on me so I could hear what the people on stage could hear. It is very different from being in front of the amps. It was loud but I could bear it and I got used to it. I also handled requests. People would write the songs down they wanted to hear on a napkin, or whatever and I’d hand it to Rick and some other guy (I forgot his name) in between songs.

There were 4 people. Carl on drums and Rick, another guy, and an obvious lesbian named Wendy on guitars. They all took turns singing songs except for Carl. Rick was good and so was the guy whose name I forgot. He was an older guy with slacks, a dress shirt, and suit jacket. He sort of looked like a businessman. Wendy was having some sort of trouble with her voice but her base playing was fine. She was either timid or tired. Her voice was very soft and she kept going flat. Also, an older lady would get up on stage and sing every now and then. She was good. So, due to Rick being busy with the band, I figured we’d never have time to even talk much. However, I did end up singing. During intermission as they have 4 sets, I sang in the back corner of the stage. Some Linda Ronstadt songs. They turn the jukebox on during their breaks and he told me he was amazed at how I could sing a song on key while the jukebox played a totally different song. Then, he looked at me and said, “You have a hell of a voice. You’re in. I’ll talk to the other guys in the band.”

I couldn’t believe it! I was psyched! The name of the band is Power Glide and I have rehearsals at Rick’s house tomorrow night at 7:00. Of course, I’ll be going with Lyle.

I told Tammy, Mom and Dad, whose birthday was Sunday. He’s 61. I told Mom and Dad I’d write all the details in a letter to them.

How often and where I’ll sing, I don’t know yet. Or even about the money, but who cares? What really matters is I’m in the band!

Before I forget, Wendy, who did seem nice, asked for my number cuz she knows an all-female band. That’s nice. I’ve always thought about an all-female band. Maybe I’ll rotate from band to band like Rick does.

I called and told Andy, Bob, and Kim and left a message on Cassandra’s machine. Jessie called me last night and I spoke to her for an hour or so. I’ll have to call Ann Marie if I don’t hear from her soon. She said she’d call me about coming to see me on Tuesday.

It’s funny how it all started, and Laurie, who I met at Price Rite agreed. She said, “It’s neat how you tapped me on the shoulder and I knew a guy who knew a guy in a band.”

And all cuz Laurie was pretty. That’s why I first began chatting with her. If she wasn’t so pretty, I’d have never found out about all this. I wonder if she’s bi or has ever been with a woman or thought about it. Once I get to know her, Lyle and Rick, the subject will eventually come up. They all do seem quite open-minded and as if they have all types of friends. Just in case Laurie’s completely straight and so she doesn’t feel threatened, I’ll let her get to know me first. Plus, I like wondering and guessing. The chase is always more fun than the capture, but I sure would love to capture her for one night. I doubt I will, but who knows? My “feelings” tell me there’s a possibility. Also, due to certain things she’s said and certain ways she’s looked at me, it makes me wonder. I learned from Maliheh, though, not to assume and jump the gun.

Later…

Last Thursday night Fran and I were on the phone for 2 hours and 15 minutes. He called me, of course. Melissa, the CP lady was a great source of entertainment for a while. Therefore, I have more edits to make of her as I taped the entire conversation. Andy and I spoke on his night off and he spoke with Laurie H for a few minutes. All about how to fill out an accident form. She’s been edited.

That’s all the news I have for now. Tomorrow, I must go pay the rent which is now a flat $100. Also, to get refills on my Theo and Alupent.

They’re coming to spray here tomorrow and UPS should be delivering my microwave from mom and dad. With lots of popcorn, dad told me.

I hope I can get a fairly decent amount of sleep as I slept till 2:00 today. Really 3:00 as the clocks went up an hour. Now Andy’s 3 hours behind instead of 2. Their clocks stay the same all the time.