#Silent retreat California | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

its-the-pilot · 9 months

Text

Waves | 3 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | 2 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

The response to this fic so far has been amazing! Thank you so much to everyone! 😘😘😘

Summary: The first day of TOP GUN has some surprises in store for both of you. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2.4k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

youtube

Chapter Three

The sound of your alarm blaring at 0500 didn't wake you, but it did snap you out of your reverie. You'd spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, wrestling with the idea of skipping work, not wanting to deal with the stares and whispers you were sure you'd get after the display the night before at the Hard Deck. Thoughts of disappearing like Bradley had also crossed your mind, but you pushed them away. Giving up your hard-won position at TOP GUN wasn't an option, and you refused to follow in his footsteps.

You reached for your phone as the first rays of morning sun pierced your window, figuring it was more reasonable to call now than it would have been when you got home last night like you originally wanted to. You selected the contact you had saved, pressed the phone to your ear, and fixed your gaze back on the ceiling, waiting for the voice on the other end to respond. You needed answers, and this was the only way you could think of to get them.

A voice heavy with sleep answered after two rings, his throat clearing before he spoke. "What's wrong, sweetheart? You never call this early." Another voice came from the background, leading to a brief exchange you couldn't quite make out before footsteps could be heard retreating to another room. "Everything okay?"

"You could have warned me, Uncle Ice."

The older man's voice was laced with concern for you, but having just woken up, it took him a second to put the pieces together. "Oh. Bradshaw," he groaned, and you could hear his desk chair creak as he leaned back in it. "Look, hon... it wasn't something I wanted you stressing out over."

You pressed your head into the pillow hard, feeling tears pricking at your eyes again. As upset as you were at him for withholding information, he had only been trying to protect you from spiraling. Iceman understood you well enough to know that you would tackle any challenge head-on, determined never to let anyone down.

He had been a constant in your life since your parents died due to his friendship with Maverick, most often as a voice on the phone or a guest at the occasional Christmas dinner, due to living on opposite coasts. Despite the physical separation, he had been one of few you had been able to count on to watch out for you and more importantly, tell you the truth when you needed to hear it.

There was a long beat of silence. You knew he could hear your sniffles, but mostly you didn't care. He finally spoke again when you didn't reply. "It's been a long time, maybe give him a chance. You know things weren't good between him and Mav when he left. Maybe he's grown up and moved past it."

"It wasn't just Uncle Pete's fault. Bradley didn't have to go. Or he could have taken me with him, I wanted to go with him." You confessed, hearing him sigh into the phone. Suddenly you felt self conscious, never having admitted that to anyone before. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

"You can always call, you know that," he promised. He had made that clear to you when you moved out to California with Maverick, often acting as a mediator during rough patches in your relationship. "Just talk to Rooster, okay? You might find out that his side of the story isn't what you thought it was for all these years."

You nodded silently, voice caught in your throat for a minute as you listened to his words. "Okay. Thanks, Uncle Ice," you finally managed, looking toward your alarm clock. 0530. "I have to go, orientation starts at 0700."

"Alright, sweetheart. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Ice said, his voice calming your frayed nerves. "We'll talk later?"

Another nod. "We'll talk later. Bye." Your phone was tossed onto the bed after you hung up, and there was another minute or so of looking at the ceiling before you forced yourself out of bed.

“Time to pull yourself together,” you thought to yourself, taking a look in the mirror as you undressed for your shower. There were dark circles under your eyes from a lack of sleep, and your hair was a mess from tossing and turning all night. With a sigh you finally turned the water on and stepped into the stream of hot water, determined to put last night behind you and move forward like you always did.

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

Bradley sat in the back row of the classroom they gathered in for orientation that morning, determined to keep to himself. He ignored the eyes that seemed to bore into him and the hushed whispers of his name that circulated among the other pilots, hoping that it would eventually go away if he didn't give it air.

“So, ever gonna tell us who the girl is, Rooster?” Hangman asked, dropping into the seat beside him, a sly grin on his face. This prompted a few pilots in the row in front of them to turn around, their attention rapt.

He shook his head with a sigh. “None of your business.” It was a straightforward response, and it worked well enough to make a couple of the pilots lose interest, turning back around in their seats. But Hangman wasn't letting it drop.

“C’mon,” he goaded, playfully bumping him in the shoulder. “Ex-girlfriend? Baby momma? I couldn't be lucky enough for it to be a sister. I would definitely have a shot with a sister.”

Bradley's fist clenched, but he managed to hold his tongue. Fortunately, he didn't need to respond as a group of support and training staff filed into the room, lining up against the front wall for introductions. He didn't pay much attention until he saw you walk in, standing behind the TOPGUN Commander. You were dressed in a dark gray blazer and matching pencil skirt with a white blouse, your hair neatly arranged in a bun. He couldn't take his eyes off you.

The fact that you were even on North Island was a surprise in itself, but he never would have guessed that you actually worked for the Navy. It was something that had always given you anxiety when you were younger, fearing that your uncle, like your parents, might never return home.

Hangman snickered when you were introduced as the Aerospace Psychologist they all had to meet with prior to getting in the air. “Doctor Sexy. Today should be interesting,” he whispered, leaning closer to Rooster.

He barely heard him over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, and that was the only thing keeping him from punching the other pilot in the mouth. You were responsible for determining whether or not he would be allowed to continue in the program, and while you didn't think you would leverage your shared history against him like that, he wouldn't blame you if you did.

The remainder of the orientation passed in a blur for Bradley, lost in his own thoughts. When his name was called to pick up his schedule of meetings for the day, he stood and moved toward the exit. His gaze inadvertently drifted over to you, engrossed in conversation with one of the trainers and seemingly oblivious to his presence. When he reached the hallway, he finally looked down at the slip of paper handed to him and sighed. His first appointment of the day was with you, in just five minutes.

“Best to get it over with, I guess,” he mumbled, heading toward your office to wait.

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

You arrived at your office just in time for your first appointment and found Bradley sitting on the chair outside, wearing his khaki uniform. His presence caused you to falter only briefly before you took a deep breath and forced a smile. He stood as you approached, looking as though he wanted to say something, but you beat him to it.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you greeted, keeping it professional as you unlocked your door and opened it, allowing him to enter first. Once you were both inside, you closed the door and crossed the room to your desk. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He took a few steps inside and looked around the smallish office, his eyes falling on the plaques and degrees on the wall. He read each one, your accomplishments done without him and his support laid out before him. “You're a PhD, that's amazing,” he said, pride in his voice. “Congratulations.”

You had busied yourself with files and papers on your desk, getting things in order when he spoke, bringing the corner of your mouth up in a small smile. “Thanks,” you replied quietly, finally sitting down and pulling his file out of the stack that had been given to you that morning at the orientation.

Opening it up, you flipped through the pages absently, half watching him as he examined your office, unsure how you felt about him having this much access to your life. Looking back down at the file on your desk, you supposed it was only fair, since you were seeing everything he had been up to for the last fifteen years.

“You still talk to Iceman?” He asked, pointing at a picture of the two of you at your graduation for your PhD four years earlier. There was only one other picture, with your Uncle Pete at the same ceremony. He didn't mention it, but you knew he saw it by the way his body tensed, biceps flexing under his uniform shirt.

“Yeah, we still talk.” You cleared your throat and offered a tight smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “We should get started.”

Bradley turned to face you, giving a nod. “Right, sorry,” he apologized, moving to sit in the chair in front of your desk and watch you flip through his file. “So, how does this work?”

“You've had psych evals before. It's not any different.” You finally closed the file, looking up at him. His hazel eyes were piercing, confidence oozing out of him as he looked at you the same way he used to. “Uhm…” you hesitated, his gaze leaving you a little flustered. “Everything looks good, honestly. You've never had a mishap, FITREPs are excellent, you're a model Officer. Your parents would be proud.”

He nodded, his back straightening a bit with the praise. He didn't need you to say it to know you were proud as well, and he wouldn't expect you to. He could hear it in your voice. “Thanks. I'd like to think they would be, y’know, despite everything.”

Glancing at your clock, you saw that you had a few minutes left with him before the next pilot arrived so you opened his file again and signed the form necessary, then slid it across the desk, wanting to follow Ice’s earlier advice. “Bradley… what happened?”

It caught him off guard, your question one he hadn't expected given how professional you were trying to be. “You know.”

The words were simple, but they were heavy. Yes, you knew some of what had happened between him and Maverick, that he felt he couldn't stay there any more after he had pulled his papers, but why he left you was still a mystery. “I don't though. Uncle Pete pulled your Academy application, sure, but you're here anyway. You achieved your dreams.”

“Four years late,” he said, the talk of Maverick making him tense again. “It was way harder than it would have been if he had just stayed out of my way.”

You felt for him, hearing the frustration in his voice. It took you right back to those weeks and months before he left, the shouting matches between him and Maverick that you would try to break up. From his file you learned that he had enlisted when he left, later attending UVA between deployments to get his degree so he could become an officer, and eventually an aviator.

“I would have come with you, if you had asked,” you said, forcing yourself to maintain your composure. The last thing you wanted was to cry in your office when you had a whole day’s worth of work ahead of you. “You didn't have to leave the way you did.”

He shifted to the very edge of his chair and leaned forward, reaching to cover your hand with his as it rested on your desk. When you didn't pull away and instead met his eyes, he gave you a warm, yet sad smile. “I know you would have. But you deserved more. A better life than being married to an enlisted man who was gone half the year. You had big dreams, Dimples,” he said, squeezing your hand and taking the risk of using his nickname for you despite how you had reacted to it the night before. “I wanted you to have everything in the world. I still do.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears that were starting to prick at your eyes. “Bradley…” you breathed, opening your mouth to say more when there was a sharp knock at your door, indicating your next appointment had arrived. Slowly you pulled your hand away and both of you stood, with you rounding the desk and closing the space between you on your way to the door.

He stopped you when you got close and his hand lifted to stroke your cheek, searching your eyes as another knock came, more impatient this time. “Can I see you again?” He asked, making the bold move with confidence since you had yet to pull away from him.

Nodding, you leaned into his touch briefly before turning back to your desk and scribbling down your phone number, passing it to him. “We still have a lot to talk about, B.”

“I know,” he leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth sweetly, tucking your phone number in his pocket before heading to the door with his file. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you said, switching back to professional mode as he passed your next appointment in the doorway. You saw him glance back at you as the door closed and you got started with the next interview.

Iceman had been right, you just needed to give him a chance to tell his side. As you flipped through the next file, you made a mental note to thank him and continued with your day, hoping you would hear from Bradley later.

Chapter Four

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

178 notes · View notes

differenteagletragedy · 3 months

Text

Your first Casual Friday at the office, you earnestly asked your boss, Baxter Ward, why he was still wearing a suit when every other worker was dressed in jeans and t-shirts. He curtly told you that he was in his preferred clothing, and you wrote it off.

The second Friday, when he was once again in a full suit in the sweltering California summer, you still thought it was odd, but you were coming to realize that he was just an odd kind of guy.

Several Fridays had passed since then, and you'd gotten more comfortable in your position as Baxter's secretary. Comfortable enough for a little light teasing.

"Mr. Ward," you greeted him as he came into the building. Then you made some silly joke, something about being allergic to denim and comfort. Something that you couldn't remember because for the first time since you'd met him, he gave you a smile -- more of a smirk, really -- that finally met his eyes.

"Careful," he said in a soft, low voice. "One needs to pay special attention when speaking to one's superiors."

He'd always been uptight, polite but distant, but there was more than a hint of mischief in this words. Before you could answer, he retreated into his office, leaving you standing in the hall dumbfounded.

That's how you realized you had a crush on your boss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn't unusual for you to go with Baxter to various appointments and meetings. You'd take notes for him at a wedding venue, or pitch in with him if a couple needed some extra help.

What was unusual, however, was a downpour in southern California. So when the two of you were walking down a busy street in the heart of the city and the rain started, you were unprepared.

You were shocked, looking at the sky like the weather was a mystery that needed solving. Baxter responded first, taking your hand in his surprisingly warm one and briskly walking you to stand under a nearby awning.

When you reached your destination, you saw him glance down at your hands, still clasped together. He dropped yours, and you instantly missed his warmth -- partially because of that crush, and partially because you were legitimately cold. The two of you hadn't been in the rain that long, but it was coming down fast enough that you were soaked to the bone.

Baxter watched, still silent, as you gave a shiver. His hands moved up to his lapels, and you saw him give a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. It could have been wishful thinking, but it seemed like he'd almost taken his jacket off to give to you. It wouldn't have done much good, it was as wet as your own clothes, but the gesture still had your heart beating fast.

"Shall we make a break for it?" he asked, that rare smirk gracing his delicate features again. He nodded his head towards his car that was parked down the street, but his eyes never left yours.

"Let's."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"If I ever agree to plan a destination wedding again, please kill me."

You snorted, glancing sideways at your boss in the back of the taxi.

It had been months now since you'd taken a job as his secretary, and you were something like friends now. Close enough that after a flight full of turbulence and the realization that the airline had lost his bags, he felt like you were a person he could go to for a death request.

He kept complaining during the short drive to the hotel, and as you were walking towards the front desk, he leaned closer to you and quietly said, "If one more thing goes wrong, I'm quitting."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, smiling. "What would you do."

He opened his mouth, then paused and closed it. You could practically see all the potential answers running through his head, and him trying to figure out what might make you laugh the most. Lately, it seemed more and more like that had become one of his favorite pastimes.

Instead, he glanced your way again and said "Dancing."

"Like exotic dancing?" you replied, waiting for the joke. "You could pull it off with those legs, and that wai --"

"Ballroom dancing," he said. "I used to do ballroom dancing."

"Really?"

"Is that so surprising?" he asked. You'd made it to the desk now, but there was a couple in front of you. As you waited, he turned to you, and you saw a sweet little twinkle in his eye.

"No, I guess not. But you'd make it into a career?"

"I could try my hand at doing it professionally," he said. "Or I could coach. Instruct."

He was about to continue, but the people in front of you left, and it was your turn at the desk. He gave you a small, sweet smile, then stepped forward and told him your names so the hotel employee could find your reservations.

That's when you found out that there was a mistake -- only one room had been reserved, not two, and the room only had one bed.

"Oh, for the love of --"

#our life beginnings and always #baxter ward #baxter x mc #baxter x reader #baxter x you #not OLBA mc #a different future one!#baxter ward x you #baxter ward x reader #baxter ward x mc

93 notes · View notes

zapreportsblog · 9 months

Note

Ok ok ok, Stu and Billy with a reader that’s like extremely shy. Like they can’t even make eye contact because their face goes red. Or they stutter and stumble over their words when talking to them, and they become clumsy around them, always tripping over their own feet and then apologizing profusely after the land on one of the boys.

❝shy hearts unveiled❞

✭ pairing : stu macher x reader x billy loomis

✭ fandom : slashers, scream 1996

✭ summary : In the quiet town of Woodsboro,California , two souls, Stu and Billy, share a connection with a girl as delicate as a fragile butterfly's wing. Stu, the loud and party animal highschooler, finds himself utterly captivated by (Y/N). Every attempt to approach them ends with flushed cheeks and a tangled tongue. Stuttering and stumbling over his words, he never manages to convey his true feelings. Yet, his earnestness shines through in the smallest gestures, like offering a warm smile or helping (Y/N) pick up a fallen book. On the other side of this tender dance is Billy, a silent and slightly intimidating highschooler whose love for horror movies reflect his innermost emotions. Every encounter with (Y/N) sends their heart into a wild frenzy.

✭ slashers masterlist

Stu Macher stood in the hallway of Woodsboro High School, his heart pounding like a drum in a quiet symphony. He watched with a mix of admiration and shyness as (Y/N) stood at her locker, her delicate hands gracefully flipping through the pages of her textbook. She was a vision of grace and beauty, the epitome of everything he'd ever admired from afar.

(Y/N)'s hair cascaded like a waterfall of onyx silk, and her eyes, he thought, must have held the secrets of the universe. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her smile, a radiant beam of sunshine that could brighten even the cloudiest of days. Every day, he found himself lost in the reverie of her presence, unable to muster the courage to speak a word to her.

As (Y/N) gathered her books, Stu couldn't help but compliment her silently in his head. "She's incredible," he thought, marveling at the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, and how effortlessly she seemed to glide through the halls.

But then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, the universe decided to intervene. Just as (Y/N) was walking away from her locker, her notebook slipped from her hand, and time seemed to slow. Stu's heart raced, and without thinking, he darted forward, his reflexes kicking in.

He managed to grab the falling notebook just inches from the ground, saving it from an inevitable collision with the cold linoleum floor. But to his surprise, (Y/N) had the same idea. Their hands met, their fingers brushed, and for a fraction of a second, their eyes locked in a moment that felt like an eternity.

Stu couldn't help but flash a warm, reassuring smile, his heart pounding even harder now. But (Y/N), her face flushed the brightest shade of crimson, pulled her hand away as if his touch had burned her. She stammered out a stuttered apology and a rushed "Thank you" before snatching the notebook from his grasp and retreating like a startled deer.

Stu watched, his heart sinking, as (Y/N) hurried down the hallway, disappearing into the sea of students. He wanted desperately to introduce himself, to make her laugh with one of his clever quips, but the words eluded him as they always did in her presence.

With a sigh, Stu couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever summon the courage to be more than just a silent admirer of the enigmatic (Y/N). As he stared at the empty hallway, he vowed to himself that someday, somehow, he would find a way to bridge the gap between their worlds and make her smile again.

As Stu hastily made his way to his next class, he turned a corner and almost collided with his best friend, Billy Loomis, who was casually leaning against his locker, waiting for him. Billy raised an eyebrow and nodded his head in the direction they had just come from.

"What was all that about, Stu?" Billy inquired, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Stu blinked, momentarily confused, before he realized that Billy had witnessed the entire scene with (Y/N) at her locker. His cheeks reddened, and he stammered, "Oh, uh, that? Well, nothing really, just a clumsy moment, you know."

Billy wasn't convinced, and he leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. "Come on, Stu, spill it. I've never seen you react like that before. Who's the blushing chick?"

Stu sighed, knowing he couldn't keep it a secret any longer. "Her name's (Y/N)," he admitted, his voice softening. "I don't know, Billy, there's just something about her. She's different."

Billy's interest was now fully piqued, and he straightened up, his trademark smirk fading into a thoughtful expression. "Different, huh? Well, that's intriguing. Tell me more about this (Y/N)."

As Stu began to recount the moments when he had seen (Y/N) in the hallways, her smile, her grace, and her unique presence, he noticed that Billy was listening intently, no longer teasing him but genuinely interested in what had captured his best friend's attention.

Billy Loomis couldn't let go of his curiosity about (Y/N), the mysterious girl who had captured Stu's attention. He found himself wandering the hallways, trying to catch a glimpse of her, to understand what made her so special. Little did he know that fate had something unexpected in store.

As Billy turned a corner, he spotted (Y/N) walking hurriedly down the hall, a stack of books precariously balanced in her arms. Her face was buried in a book, and she seemed entirely engrossed in her own world.

Without thinking, Billy decided to seize the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. He quickened his pace to catch up with her. Just as he was about to reach out and tap her on the shoulder, their worlds collided.

The sudden contact startled (Y/N), causing her to drop a few of her books. In a reflexive move, Billy reached out and gently placed a hand on her waist and another on her back to steady her. Her face flushed a deep shade of red, a stark contrast to her pale complexion.

"Wow, in a hurry much?" Billy teased, a smirk playing on his lips. His tone was light, meant to be playful, but he couldn't help but notice (Y/N)'s reaction.

As if his touch had scorched her, (Y/N) quickly backed away from him, her eyes wide with embarrassment. She stammered out a hurried apology, her voice barely audible, and hastily retrieved her fallen books. Without another word, she turned on her heel and rushed off down the hallway.

Billy watched her retreating figure, a perplexed expression on his face. He was used to girls throwing themselves at him, not running away as if he were contagious. There was something undeniably intriguing about (Y/N), and he couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath her shy exterior.

With a newfound determination, Billy decided that he would get to know (Y/N) better, not just because of his curiosity, but because he genuinely wanted to understand what had made Stu so captivated by her. Little did he know that his pursuit of the mysterious (Y/N) would lead to unexpected twists and turns in his own life.

Billy couldn't shake off the intriguing encounter with (Y/N). The way she had blushed and hurried away had left him with a sense of curiosity that he couldn't ignore. It wasn't long before he sought out Stu to discuss what he had observed.

"Stu," Billy began, leaning against the lockers, "I can see why you like her. She's easy to tease, right?"

Stu frowned, shaking his head. "No, Billy, it's not like that at all. It's not about teasing her. There's so much more to her than that."

Billy raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by Stu's reaction. "Okay, then. Tell me, what's so special about her?"

Stu took a deep breath, his eyes distant as he thought about (Y/N). "She's not like the other girls at school, Billy. She doesn't crave attention or try to fit in. Instead of going to parties or seeing the latest movie, she's at the library or doing volunteer work, helping others without expecting anything in return."

Billy listened attentively as Stu continued, "And you know what's different about her? She doesn't judge me or make fun of me like most people do. She doesn't treat me like I'm just the class clown or the guy who always goofs around. When we talk, she listens, and it feels like she genuinely cares about what I have to say."

Stu's heartfelt words left Billy momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected this level of sincerity from his usually laid-back friend. After a pause, Billy admitted, "You know what, Stu? You're right. There's something different about her, something refreshing."

Stu raised an eyebrow, a half-smile forming on his lips. "Different in a good way?"

Billy nodded emphatically. "In a good way, of course. I've never met anyone quite like her, and I can't deny there's something intriguing about (Y/N)."

As the two friends shared this unexpected heart-to-heart conversation, they couldn't help but wonder where their newfound fascination with (Y/N) would lead them and how she might change their lives in ways they couldn't yet imagine.

As the school day drew to a close, Stu mustered up the courage to catch (Y/N) as she walked home. He had been waiting for this moment, hoping to get to know her better. With his heart pounding, he approached her just as she was about to leave the school grounds.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Stu greeted her with a friendly smile. "I noticed you usually walk home. How about I give you a ride today?"

(Y/N) blinked, her face turning a shade of pink. The idea of getting a ride from Stu, with Billy in the car, was both exciting and nerve-wracking. She stammered, "Oh, um, I'm not sure..."

Billy, who had been lingering nearby, stepped forward and chimed in, "Don't worry, (Y/N), we don't do nothing, scouts honor." He held up three fingers in a mock salute, trying to put her at ease.

Stu nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's just a ride home, nothing more."

Despite her flustered state, (Y/N) managed to stutter out a hesitant, "Yes, thank you."

As the three of them piled into Stu's car, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. She didn't know what to expect with Stu and Billy, but she was willing to take the chance.

To (Y/N)'s surprise, instead of heading straight home, Stu made a sudden stop at a cozy coffee shop. She furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering why they had detoured.

"Well," Stu began, turning to (Y/N) with a mischievous grin, "now that we've got your attention, we can't have you running away so quickly, can we?"

Billy opened the car door for (Y/N) and followed Stu's lead, stepping out. He flashed her a warm smile and added, "Yeah, so we thought we could all hang out. After all, it's Friday."

(Y/N) was taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, but there was something intriguing about these two boys and their earnest attempts to get to know her. With a shy smile, she agreed, "Okay, let's hang out."

Inside the cozy coffee shop, Stu, Billy, and (Y/N) settled into a corner booth, each with their choice of beverage. The atmosphere was warm, with soft jazz music playing in the background, creating a comfortable ambiance.

As they sipped their drinks, Stu leaned forward, a genuine smile on his face. "So, (Y/N), tell us something about yourself. What do you like to do in your free time?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, still feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected encounter. But there was something disarming about Stu and Billy that made her want to open up. "Well," she began, "I enjoy reading, volunteering at the local shelter, and spending time at the library."

Billy nodded, genuinely interested. "That's pretty cool. Not many people our age volunteer like that."

(Y/N) blushed, her eyes downcast. "It's just something I've always been passionate about."

Stu chimed in, "Passion is a good thing. It's what makes you unique."

The conversation flowed easily as they exchanged stories and shared laughter. (Y/N) discovered that beneath their seemingly carefree exteriors, Stu and Billy had their own quirks and dreams. Stu was more than just the class clown, and Billy had aspirations beyond the usual teenage fantasies.

Hours passed, and they found themselves engrossed in discussions about books, movies, and life in general. It was as if the coffee shop had become a sanctuary where their differences didn't matter, and their friendship blossomed in the most unexpected way.

As they left the coffee shop, (Y/N) felt a warmth in her heart. She realized that Stu and Billy were not like the others at school. They didn't judge her for her shyness or her passions; instead, they embraced her for who she was.

Billy opened the car door for (Y/N) again, and as she got in, she turned to him with a genuine smile. "Thank you for today. It was really nice."

Stu, who was already in the driver's seat, grinned. "Yeah, it was. We should do this again sometime."

Billy agreed, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Definitely. We've got a lot more to talk about, (Y/N)."

And so, the unlikely trio drove away from the coffee shop, knowing that their newfound friendship was something special. As the days turned into weeks and their bond deepened, they would discover that sometimes, the most extraordinary connections are formed in the most ordinary of places, like a cozy coffee shop on a Friday afternoon.

In the weeks that followed their impromptu coffee shop hangout, Stu, Billy, and (Y/N) continued to spend time together. What had started as a chance encounter had blossomed into a deep and meaningful friendship.

They found themselves exploring new places, from art galleries to local parks, sharing their thoughts, dreams, and experiences. (Y/N)'s shyness gradually faded in their presence, and she felt comfortable being her true self around Stu and Billy.

Stu was amazed by how easy it was to talk to (Y/N), how she listened intently and always had a thoughtful response. He admired her dedication to volunteering and her passion for literature, which ignited a new interest in reading for him.

Billy, on the other hand, enjoyed (Y/N)'s quiet sense of humor and the way she appreciated the beauty in art, something he had never paid much attention to before. He found himself seeing the world through her eyes and discovered a new appreciation for the simple joys in life.

One sunny afternoon, they decided to have a picnic at a tranquil park by the river. Stu had brought his guitar along, and as he strummed a gentle melody, (Y/N) and Billy lay on a blanket, soaking in the music and the warmth of the sun.

(Y/N) spoke up, her voice filled with a sense of contentment. "You know, I never thought I'd have friends like you two. You've made such a difference in my life."

Stu smiled warmly, his fingers continuing to dance over the guitar strings. "The feeling is mutual, (Y/N). You've shown us that there's more to life than what we thought."

Billy nodded in agreement. "You've changed our perspective, (Y/N), and for the better."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over their small picnic, they realized that their friendship was a rare and beautiful thing. They had come together as three individuals who, on the surface, seemed entirely different, but beneath it all, they connected on a level that transcended their differences.

With each passing day, Stu, Billy, and (Y/N) deepened their bond, proving that sometimes the most unexpected friendships are the ones that leave the most profound impact on our lives.

As their friendship with (Y/N) continued to grow, a subtle tension began to simmer beneath the surface. Stu and Billy had both developed feelings for her, and what had once been an easy camaraderie between them now became a silent competition for her affection.

It started with small, subtle gestures. Stu would offer to help (Y/N) with her schoolwork or walk her home, and Billy would counter with inviting her to his art studio to see his latest work after all it was her who even managed to get him into something other than horror movies, or suggesting outings that he thought she might enjoy.

(Y/N) couldn't help but notice the change in dynamics but remained blissfully unaware of the growing rivalry between her two friends. She valued them both deeply and saw no reason to suspect anything amiss.

One day, after school, (Y/N) found herself in a predicament. She had two tickets to a local art exhibition, and she didn't want to disappoint either Stu or Billy. She decided to invite them both, thinking it would be a fun outing for the three of them.

When she proposed the idea to Stu and Billy separately, she noticed a flicker of disappointment in their eyes, quickly concealed behind forced smiles and polite responses. Unbeknownst to her, the competition was escalating.

As the night of the art exhibition approached, Stu and Billy each secretly planned something special to impress (Y/N). Stu bought her a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers, while Billy created a personalized painting that he hoped would touch her heart.

On the evening of the event, (Y/N) arrived at the exhibition to find both Stu and Billy waiting for her, each with a gift in hand. She was touched by their thoughtfulness but couldn't help feeling that something was amiss.

Throughout the evening, Stu and Billy vied for her attention, each trying to outdo the other with witty comments, compliments, and attempts to make her laugh. Their rivalry became increasingly apparent, and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel torn between the two.

As the night came to a close, (Y/N) thanked them both for the wonderful evening, but her heart was heavy with confusion. She couldn't ignore the growing tension between Stu and Billy and knew that something needed to change.

The tension between Stu and Billy had reached a breaking point, and it was bound to spill over eventually. The incident occurred one fateful day in the crowded hallway of their high school.

(Y/N) was walking to her next class when she heard raised voices echoing down the corridor. Turning a corner, she saw Stu and Billy locked in a heated argument. Their faces were flushed with anger, and their words were sharp, cutting through the air like knives.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Her two closest friends were fighting, and it was because of her. Panic and confusion washed over her as she rushed forward, desperate to stop the escalating confrontation.

Before she could intervene, a teacher appeared and forcefully separated the two boys, their struggle coming to an abrupt end. Stu and Billy were both breathing heavily, their anger still smoldering.

It was in that moment, under the stern gaze of their teacher, that Stu and Billy turned to (Y/N), their faces filled with a mixture of regret and frustration. They knew they had let their rivalry get out of control, and it had cost them their friendship and potentially their connection with her.

The teacher scolded them both and warned them about the consequences of fighting in school. Stu and Billy hung their heads, chastised, but it was clear that their primary concern was (Y/N).

As the teacher walked away, leaving the three of them in the hallway, Stu and Billy stepped closer to (Y/N), their voices soft and filled with remorse.

"(Y/N)," Stu began, his voice trembling, "we need to talk."

Billy nodded in agreement. "Please, hear us out."

But before (Y/N) could respond, she felt the weight of the judgmental whispers and accusing glances from passing students. Word had spread about the fight, and the rumor mill was quick to churn out stories, most of which blamed her for causing the rift between her two friends.

Unable to bear the stares and the gossip, (Y/N) felt tears welling up in her eyes. Without a word, she turned and fled down the hallway, tears streaming down her face.

"Wait!" Stu and Billy called out simultaneously, their voices filled with desperation. They broke free from the teacher's grip and chased after her, their determination to set things right overshadowing their own rivalry.

In the midst of the chaos and heartbreak, they realized that their feelings for (Y/N) had driven a wedge between them and cost them their friendship. Now, they had to find a way to mend not only their relationship with her but also the damage they had done to her reputation.

101 notes · View notes

jgroffdaily · 9 months

Text

A new interview at the New York Times with Jonathan, Daniel and Lindsay has been released. Gift article at the link, and excerpts below:

3 Actors, 1 Unshakable Bond

Jonathan Groff, Lindsay Mendez and Daniel Radcliffe are the heart of the tear-streaked “Merrily We Roll Along” Broadway revival.

What propels the highs and lows of “Merrily We Roll Along,” the 1981 Stephen Sondheim-George Furth musical that begins performances this month at the Hudson Theater, is friendship. But for the stars of this first Broadway revival — Jonathan Groff, Lindsay Mendez and Daniel Radcliffe — embodying the implosion of that friendship may well be more emotionally charged, rewarding and wrenching than anything they’ve done before.

As often happens with actors portraying intimacy, the sentiments they evoke in performance have bled into real life — or the good feelings anyway, when their characters are still fresh, hopeful and unconditionally smitten with one another. These well-seasoned pros may be in their 30s or early 40s, but when they describe their relationship — offstage, I mean, although the line becomes blurry — they’re as effusive and dewy as Romeo and Juliet before the going got tough.

“It’s such a special show in that way,” said Groff, 38, who received his first Tony nomination at 22 for playing a sexually addled adolescent in the musical “Spring Awakening.” “Often I feel you get that with the people you play romantic interests with. But the love story in this show is the friends. So there’s this intensity in a friendship that I’ve never experienced with a play before.”

Groff made those observations last fall when “Merrily,” the American directorial debut of the British actress (and frequent Sondheim interpreter) Maria Friedman, had just started previews in its Off Broadway incarnation at New York Theater Workshop. That its transfer to Broadway seemed guaranteed once it opened had much to do with the aching, loving sincerity with which its cast suffused it.

When the Workshop production ended its limited, sold-out run in January, Groff said he and his co-stars were “a wreck, even knowing we were going to Broadway, to say goodbye to an experience that meant so much.”

Nonetheless, Groff, Mendez and Radcliffe agreed to think as little as possible about “Merrily” for the next seven months. And while they continued to keep in close touch (they all attended “Sweeney Todd” together), they avoided discussing it.

And so the shadows of Frank, Mary and Charlie were banished, and life, being life, continued — in some cases, momentously. Mendez and Groff both worked on television projects (which they could not discuss because of the actors’ strike). Mendez moved back to Manhattan from California with her 2-year-old daughter.

Groff saw Beyoncé’s Renaissance tour four times, officiated at a friend’s wedding in Portugal and attended a 10-day silent meditation retreat in Utah. (Two of his last calls, before he surrendered his phone, were to Mendez and Radcliffe, to let them know where he’d be.) And, yes, he and Mendez both saw “Barbie.”

The bond among the stars felt, if anything, tighter than when I spoke to them last December. They were aware of it from the moment they met. “When the three of us first walked into the room,” Groff said, “there was a natural — —”

“It was a heart connection,” Mendez said.

Groff continued: “It’s a vibe. It’s chemistry. You have it on dates sometimes. And then going night after night after night and digging into the energy that was between us and the show deepening it. The three of us have — it’s such a gift — a meant-to-be alignment of personality and energy.”

What they share, among other things, is a bone-deep love of that currently beleaguered art form, the theater. Groff and Mendez, who turned 40 this year, arrived in Manhattan in their late teens from Pennsylvania and California to “pound the pavements,” as they said, sounding like the hoofers in a Busby Berkeley musical.

(“That’s so Dan, that his first role would be ‘Equus,’” Groff said.)

So would [Radcliffe] describe himself as a member of that New York-centric cult that makes a religion of the Broadway musical? “They’re the high priests,” he said, pointing to the others. “I’m like an altar boy.” He said that hearing a perfectly normal phrase “like ‘How do you do?’” will trigger his co-stars to start performing a lyric with just that phrase.

Sure enough, when a few moments later I mentioned that I grew up in Winston-Salem, N.C., Groff and Mendez responded immediately and simultaneously in swooping falsetto and soprano. “Winstooon-Saaalemm,” they sang, quoting a number I had almost forgotten from the musical “The Light in the Piazza.”

When they discussed their lyrics and dialogue from “Merrily,” they often seemed tremulous with the excitement of discovery. With an exactitude and passion that was unexpected at the end of a long rehearsal day, they parsed several scenes and musical numbers for me, especially moments when their characters just miss the chance to repair what’s gone wrong in their relationship.

Groff and Mendez started crying during several such descriptions, as if they had only just fully realized the extent of the destruction being done.

Groff, who grew up in Lancaster, Pa., said, “I know when I was a kid, theater was like an escape for me, as a closeted teenager. And I think I really relate to when Frank says, ‘Music is my life, without music, I would die.’ Musical theater at that age was, like, lifesaving. And so to be now, at 38, doing a musical as a more fully realized version of who I am … I always went to theater to escape and to express and get out of my life completely. And it’s like this show — and maybe this is what makes it so unique and what brought me to this experience — this show is both the escape and bringing me into my own life at the same time.”

When Groff, whom she knew casually, called her to say that a casting agent had said she would be perfect for the part of Mary, she had become a mother and was newly divorced. “I was like, I don’t live in New York anymore, and I don’t know who I really am right now. I feel really lost. How am I going to do this?” Mendez said.

“But somehow, magically, it all just worked. And when I got back here, the first day I walked in with them, it was just like, Oh my God, I’m home. And I know who I am and what I’m made to do. Of course I ended up here. There was no other place to end up.”

#jonathan groff #daniel radcliffe #lindsay mendez #merrily we roll along #merrily promo #interview

81 notes · View notes

satansapostle6 · 5 months

Text

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen: Behind Blue Eyes

“Between worlds, the father is torn,

Without a soul, the mother is worn.

April’s daughter was never born.”

Katherine quickly wiped the tears from her eyes as she looked up Luke, who seemed to be growing increasingly claustrophobic up in the attic of the Big House.

Not long before at all, when they had just realized that their baby would be born in the spring, Katherine Montalvo and Luke Castellan had changed their minds again, deciding that, were they to have a baby girl, they would have named her ‘April’, so that her name could be close to May Castellan’s.

“A little girl,” Luke whispered, a lost expression in his blue eyes. “We would’ve had a little girl.”

“Do you think she had a soul?” Katherine murmured.

Under any other circumstances, Luke could’ve truthfully given her the comforting answer to her question. But that day, he didn’t know what to tell her, so he decided nothing would be better, as she just nodded understandingly. Earlier that day, Chiron had sadly allowed the two of them up to the attic to consult the Oracle of Delphi, knowing that they had questions about the sex of their unborn child.

And now, for better or for worse, those questions seemed to have been answered as Luke silently helped Katherine down the ladder, still holding her hand as if she were a princess being helped down from a horse drawn carriage.

Neither of them seemed to have anything to say, emotionally bankrupt by the loss they’d suffered. They both immediately retreated to Luke’s bedroom in Cabin 11, which they’d hardly come out of in the past week. Needless to say, Chiron had long since stopped caring about their sleeping arrangement.

Luke and Katherine once again retired to bed, as Luke lay beneath his girlfriend, arm wrapped around her as she rested on his bare chest. Katherine was comforted by his faint smell. She couldn’t describe how he smelled, other than the fact that he just smelled like him. He smelled clean, but also kind of earthy, especially when he bothered to spray cologne on.

Luke held her close to him, forehead resting on her head as he closed his eyes comfortably. He offered her a short and sweet peck on the lips for comfort, as she accepted it lovingly. She stopped before reaching for him again, giving him another, deeper kiss as he gently gripped her shoulder. He kissed her, losing himself in her for a moment, until he felt her tongue softly flirting with his.

Completely sobered, his eyes opened suddenly as her kisses migrated to the side of his neck, growing harsher and harsher.

“What-What are you doing?” Luke asked, as she stopped.

“I… Think it’s pretty obvious,” she murmured. “Do you not like it?” she asked him.

“I…” he didn’t know how to answer. “No, of course not, it’s just… Right now?” he said awkwardly.

“Well, not if you don’t want to,” she said softly, her demeanor changing immediately.

Although she wasn’t fazed by it or anything, Katherine had never once seen Luke turn down sex with her. Of course, she more than understood why, but she’d simply never had it happened before. Never once had Luke not been in the mood to do it with her.

He’d been in the mood in the drive-ins late at night, and in the alley behind the grocery store that one time in New Jersey, and that one time after they’d killed that harpy, and that one time in the middle of that farm in California. Of course, Luke wasn’t the kind of person who had an insanely high sex drive, but when it came to Katherine, he was always ready to go.

It wasn’t so much disappointing to her that he’d just turned her down as it was concerning for her. Ever since they’d lost the baby, Katherine had been worried Luke would never be himself again. Although he was perfectly functional and capable of enjoying little moments with her, he’d still changed a lot. Even his wardrobe had changed, getting more heavy on the darker colors.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he shook his head quickly, “It’s just… I don’t feel like I can right now.”

“That’s okay, baby,” she promised, trying to lighten the mood. “If you don’t want to, I don’t want to. Simple as that, no questions asked.”

“But… Clearly, you want to,” he reasoned.

“Luke, just forget about it, it’s okay,” she reassured him, “If you don’t feel like it, you don’t feel like it. I’m perfectly happy with what we were doing before.”

“Right. But,” he thought, a strange look on his face, “You really wanted to…?”

“What do you want me to say?” Katherine said in confusion.

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he sighed, rolling over on his back as he tried to explain himself.

He sat up after a moment, a troubled expression on his face.

“I just… I’m surprised you can think about that right now.”

“What. Sex?” she questioned. “You can say it, Luke, it’s not a bad word.”

“I know it’s not a bad word,” he said dismissively, “But, I just… How can you think about that right now?”

“How can I think about that right now?”

Her voice was small and meek as she looked at him in confusion, not recognizing him as he spoke.

“Katherine,” he said, trying to level with her, as he sat up, “You just lost a baby, a week ago…”

“I’m aware, thanks,” she said quickly, finding the tone the conversation was taking uncomfortable as she tried to digress.

“How can you think about sex right now?” he asked her, genuinely not understanding.

He looked genuinely hurt.

“Because… I love you?” she questioned.

“But, that’s really what you’d enjoy right now?” he questioned. “Sex?”

Katherine stammered in disbelief, dumbfounded.

“Well, not if you don’t want it!” she exclaimed.

“But, you wanted it!” he argued.

“Is it a crime, to casually wanna have sex with someone you love?! It’s not like I was insistent on it, I told you, the second you expressed you didn’t want to, it didn’t appeal to me anymore!”

“No, of course not!” he yelled frustratedly, trying to reassure her. “I just… don’t understand!”

“Jesus christ, it’s not like I’m horny and trying to get some ‘hanky panky’ going!” she exclaimed. “I just… wanted to feel good with you.”

“How could we possibly be feeling good right now?!” Luke demanded.

“I don’t know!” she shouted. “I don’t know, because you say you want me to get better, but clearly you hate it every time I show interest in anything that’s not dead baby talk!”

That comment caused a long silence as Luke buried his face in his hands, unsure of what to feel.

“I might’ve lost a baby, but I’m a real fucking person!” she yelled as she angrily got out of bed, throwing a jacket over her clothes. “I have my own feelings! All sorts of them! Sometimes, I do feel depressed that I could’ve had a daughter, a real, live daughter to love and take care of! And sometimes, I also feel like I still love you, my boyfriend, and I wanna spend time with you, and love you, and do normal things with you!”

Luke grimaced in pain as he looked at her, overcome with grief.

“I’m sorry if you don’t wanna have sex right now! I should’ve have tried, that was stupid!” Katherine cried guiltily. “But, I’m a person too! I have my own feelings!”

“Do you?” Luke asked quietly.

“…What?” she choked.

“Ever since we lost the baby, you only seem to half agree with every bad thing I feel,” he sighed, “It’s like you’re only half here.”

This time, Katherine was completely speechless as she tried to fathom the logic behind his words.

“Well I’m fucking sorry that my grief isn’t enough for you!” she screamed. “I’m so sorry, Luke! I already lost a baby, but hey, if it’ll make you feel better, maybe I’ll start eating fucking ice cream by the gallon, and watching Casablanca! Or maybe I’ll slit my wrists with a broken pencil sharpener, would that be enough for you?!”

“You know, we’re not gonna get anywhere if you keep making a joke out of everything!”

“Were we ever getting anywhere?!” she demanded angrily. “You said you didn’t wanna have sex, and I said we could move on, and keep doing what we were doing. Everything could’ve been fine, we could’ve been fine!” she wailed.

Fighting his own tears as he started to panic, Luke began to understood that he’d been in the wrong, realizing his own frustration.

“Hey, hey, Katherine,” he tried to fix things as he reached out for her, “I’m sorry…”

He watched as she lightly shoved him away, running out as she pulled either side of her black sweater in towards her chest, hands too shaky to work the zipper.

“Katherine!”

Luke ran out after her as she stormed out of Cabin 11, unable to stop the tears.

“Katherine!” he repeated. “Katherine!”

He knew he should’ve kept apologizing, or something, but that was all that would come out as he stood at the door, knees locked as he knew chasing her wouldn’t help anything. Katherine walked off toward the woods, even in the dark, wanting to get as far away from anyone as possible.

She furiously rubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, unable to be still even for a moment.

“Hey!”

She turned around, startled as she headed further into the woods, not expecting anyone to come after her.

“Annabeth? What are you doing out here?” Katherine questioned.

“Isn’t it obvious?! I heard the yelling,” the girl answered her.

“Go to bed!” Katherine yelled angrily, storming off further into the woods.

“What happened between you and Luke?” Annabeth ignored her. “Is it… stuff with the baby?”

“Aren’t you Athena kids supposed to be smart?!” she huffed, marching through a small clearing.

“What happened?” Annabeth Chase repeated.

“None of your business.”

“Luke’s my friend,” the twelve year-old persisted. “And so are you,” she said quietly.

Katherine finally turned to look at her. She knew Annabeth had eventually come to trust her, surprisingly, but she never knew that Annabeth had actually liked her.

“Why do you care so much?” Katherine asked skeptically.

“Because you’re my friends, and you’re going through something awful,” Annabeth said honestly.

Katherine sighed, worn down as she just shook her head, standing there in silence.

“So, are you going to tell me, or are we just gonna stand here?” Annabeth questioned.

“It’s… adult stuff,” she said finally.

“‘Adult stuff’,” Annabeth said flatly.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Fine. Don’t tell me, it doesn’t matter,” she decided.

“Why not?” Katherine asked, not understanding her change of heart.

“Because. I can tell you’ve already half worked it out,” she remarked.

“No. I haven’t,” Katherine admitted. “I just love him.”

“That’s my point; you know you love him,” Annabeth stated. “You know you love him, so the problem will become smaller eventually.”

“Maybe,” she muttered, sighing as she just shook her head at the whole situation.

“I think you need some space,” Annabeth said after a moment.

“Why do you think I came out here?” Katherine said impatiently.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Annabeth shook her head. “I mean, real space. Some time on your own.”

“But, I just got back here,” Katherine scoffed.

“And you just lost a baby,” she reminded her. “It sucks, but maybe you need some time alone to process it.”

“I don’t like how much sense you’re making,” Katherine said under her breath.

“Me neither,” the girl admitted. “But maybe it’d be better for both of you.”

“But, we just lost a baby,” Katherine reasoned, “We need each other.”

“And you have each other,” Annabeth agreed with her, “But you also don’t wanna hurt each other in the process. A little time away isn’t a bad thing. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“…Right,” Katherine sighed.

She stopped for a moment, realizing that for the first time since everything had happened, she could actually breathe.

“Wouldn’t it be better to leave and come back calmer than to stay here, and get angrier?”

“Probably,” Katherine nodded, running her hands over her face in exhaustion.

Annabeth looked up at her in wonder, silver eyes widened. The older girl’s pain was something entirely unfamiliar to her, something she had no frame of reference for. Annabeth understood most of the feelings that all the other girls she came across at the camp had, knowing the reasoning behind them and having an idea of what they felt like.

But this time, she knew nothing about what this person was feeling, this person who she’d grown to think of as a sort of surrogate older sister.

“Katherine?” Annabeth said, cutting through the silence.

“Hmm?” she looked down at her, trying to pay attention.

“Even if it’s just for a little bit… I don’t want you to go,” Annabeth said, seeming a bit confused by her own emotions.

Katherine’s expressions softened as she looked into the younger girl’s eyes.

“I don’t wanna go, either,” she promised. “I’ll miss Luke, and I’ll miss you too. You remind me of him…”

Annabeth tried to hold in the sudden burst of sadness she felt, genuinely taking heart the comparison to Luke. Luke was one of the first people Annabeth had ever truly befriended, and he was like a big brother to her. All she’d ever wanted was to be like him, to be seen as being like him.

All of a sudden, Katherine realized what it was she saw in Annabeth’s eyes.

“You know… When I was pregnant… I imagined what my daughter would be like. When she grew up,” Katherine said quietly. “And I still do.”

Annabeth nodded, listening as she spoke.

“I always imagined she’d be just like you,” she whispered. “Pretty, with Luke’s eyes… And strong, and smart, and funny.”

Annabeth started crying as she considered the compliment. Katherine chuckled through her own tears as she admitted how strange of a thought it was, looking at the younger girl that could’ve been an older version of her own daughter.

“Can I…” Katherine swallowed her pain. “Can I just give you a hug?” she asked, as if not expecting the question herself.

Annabeth wasn’t necessarily one for physical affection. She didn’t understand it, and she very rarely reciprocated it. But looking up at Katherine, she nodded, silently appreciating the gesture as Katherine wrapped her arms around her, allowing her awkwardness to slowly fade. Katherine sniffled as she held the girl close to her, knowing that one day, she and Luke would betray her trust in pursuit of the world.

Luke begged her not to go, as she packed up her things and loaded them into the car she’d stolen, but even he knew it was better she not listen. He watched her drive off, alone, genuinely afraid that that would be the last time. He hoped that she’d come back to him, even finding himself hoping he’d at least get to see her leave again.

*****

Luke had continued to assure himself a few weeks since Katherine had left that she’d come back. He’s heard from her a few days after she’d left, saying that she’d be back eventually, but that was it. He was worried, extremely worried, but he didn’t show it.

He eventually went back to his responsibilities as Head Counselor of Cabin 11, burying himself in his obligations to try to avoid what was really on his mind. He didn’t even discuss Katherine with anyone, until a satyr named Oliver returned to camp, bringing a new Half-Blood.

Oliver had approached Luke at the table during dinner, immediately after the offerings had been made, hoping to be able to speak to him.

“Luke?” he asked.

“Hey. Oliver,” Luke remembered his name. “What’s going on?”

“There’s, uh… something I wanted to talk to you about,” he explained. “Something I heard from a friend, one of the Searchers out looking for Pan.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Luke asked him.

“You, uh… You know the Lotus Eaters?” the satyr asked him.

“Yeah. Of course,” he responded, not understanding.

“You know their lair?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, my friend Ackley, he got lured into their lair, this crazy casino in Vegas. Barely got out,” Oliver explained. “He told me he saw a lot of demigods there.”

“Yeah?” Luke followed along, not yet seeing the significance of this.

“Yeah. One of them?” Oliver told him, trying to break the news to him as delicately as he could. “Got there, like, a couple weeks ago. Said she was a daughter of Nemesis. Refused to leave; he tried to get her out, but she was just too deep under the spell,” he tried to make himself clear.

But Luke had stopped as soon as he heard ‘daughter of Nemesis’.

Chapter Nineteen

#luke castellan #pjo luke #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #rick riordan #riordanverse #riordan universe #jake abel #adam milligan

28 notes · View notes

alj4890 · 1 year

Text

One Night in Cordonia

Chapter 4: No Retreat, No Surrender

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin Event.

Fandom: TRR so far, but others could be added in

Pairings: Various

Word count 1,238

Rating: Mature

Warnings: talks about sex, innuendos, language

A/N I've had a blast with this, especially after the panic died down knowing it was my turn 🤣. Thanks for including me 😘

Next author: @karahalloway

The dealer once again crunched his snacks gleefully. “My dude, that is what we call sex pollen!”

*****************

Olivia coughed as she balled up more of her skirt to cover her nose and mouth. Her eyes narrowed upon the multiple sets of bodies writhing in ecstasy around her. While she side stepped her way around them, she tried to keep her mind clear of the powerful effects of the gas.

Someone in here has to still be in their right frame of mind, she kept repeating silently to herself.

She needed to find them and try and figure a way out without getting caught by the masked men. As she walked through Ramsford, she glanced back at the sight of Madeleine riding Riley's little press secretary. It was odd that after the first masked men came in, he'd followed a little while later wearing one too.

Not paying attention to where she was going, she bumped into a solid form and nearly tumbled to the ground.

"You okay?" Maxwell asked, grasping her around the waist.

"I'm fi--where are your clothes?!"

"It's a party." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You know I always strip down by the end of the night."

"Right." She rolled her eyes. "But it isn't the end of the night yet."

"Everyone else started doing it." Maxwell shrugged. "I couldn't let them all get the drop on me this year."

"Nevermind." She involuntarily snuggled closer within his arms. "Did you notice the gas that was pumped in earlier?"

"Yeah. I had a fog machine set to go off at midnight. It must have somehow gotten triggered earlier." His dimples deepened with his grin. "I had the most epic strip tease planned where I come into the room at the beat--"

"It isn't fog!" Her cheeks heated with the thought of him stripping and dancing. "Look at everyone! Does this happen when fog rolls in?"

"Not usually." He mumbled, seeing that this had gotten completely out of hand.

"Whatever is in this gas, it is making everyone react like this." She brushed her body against his. "Why aren't you affected?"

"Huh." He scratched the side of his face while looking about. "I have absolutely no idea."

Maxwell grasped her arms to keep her still.

"Um, Liv? You're starting to act like them."

"I know!" She snapped, trying to get a grip on her baser emotions. "It's taking all my willpower to not knock you to the floor right now."

"Really?" His grin grew wider. "Then what would you do?"

"I would rip my dress off and then--NOW IS NOT THE TIME!"

"Seems like the right time to ask that." He teased.

"Dear God. Of all the people still in their right minds, why are you the only one?" Olivia cried out.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm immune."

He grabbed her hand to take her to a place without people copulating to distract them.

"Could you put some clothes on, please!" She pleaded, her eyes darting to his extremely toned backside.

He glanced over his shoulder and noticed where she was staring.

"We'll head to my room."

"Yes, please."

Olivia didn't know if she was begging him to take her there for his clothes or for an actual bed to begin to do all the wicked thoughts she was having.

You're having them about Maxwell Beaumont, she reminded herself. Maxwell, did dance really make his body this desireable, Beaumont.

Maxwell led her up the back stairs. They stepped over the few servants who had gotten hit with the gas, while also ducking under a rather adventurous noble and acrobat.

"You know?" Maxwell shut his bedroom door behind her. "This kinda reminds me of this one party I went to."

"What happened?" Olivia felt unusually hot in a room only lit by one lone lamp.

"I was in California and got invited by this group of hot models to come party it up in Malibu with them. It was some kind of rager."

He slipped on some silk boxers then searched for a pair of pants.

"Anyway," he continued, "this fog machine started up and the whole place just went full on orgy. It was wild!"

He turned around while pulling on a fresh button up shirt. His jaw dropped at the sight of Olivia standing in front of him completely naked.

"Then what happened?" She reached past him for a magazine and began to fan her heated body.

"Umm...well...the group I came in with kinda piled on me and we had our own orgy outside at the pool."

He stumbled back and hit his dresser when Olivia draped her arms around his neck.

"Did you ever discover what it was that triggered it?" She pressed her lips to his throbbing pulse point then trailed them down his body.

"Some kind of sex pollen, I think, is what the host said. Makes all your inhibitions drop but notches your sexual desire to like a thousand."

"That makes sense. Whoever pumped this in here must have used that. But why?"

She slid her hands along his abs, trailing her nails up and down his chest.

"Is that a hippopotamus?" She blinked at the unusual tattoo.

"Yeah."

Somehow that image of the baby animal made her mind clear for a moment.

"Oh god! Why didn't you stop me?!" She snapped, moving quickly away from him.

"You caught me off guard!" He jerked his shirt closed. "Plus we were talking."

"When have I ever caressed and kissed you while talking?!" She demanded, snatching up her clothes.

"In reality, never." He mumbled.

Olivia huffed as she tried to zip her dress.

"Wait a minute. Why did you stress in reality?"

"Umm. Okay." He ran his hands through his hair. "You may or may not be the source of all my fantasies."

"Maxwell!" She could feel the need to get undressed again taking over.

"What? You're gorgeous! We both like playing with sharp objects. You scare me just enough to where I know sex would never be boring. I've pictured us getting--" He confessed.

"STOP!" She slammed her hand over his mouth. "Not another word about what you've imagined."

"Sorry!" His muffled response was said into her hand.

"Damnit!" Olivia moaned over the feeling of his lips and stubble brushing against her palm. "Kiss me. But just once!"

Her hand slid up into his hair right when his mouth slammed down on hers. She was surprised at what a good kisser he was. His tongue tangling with hers made her want more. So. Much. More.

He clutched her close to him as they broke apart for a second. Every part of his body screamed he take advantage of the situation to finally live out his fantasies while she was unable to control herself. Then his conscience reminded him he wasn't that type of guy.

His breath was ragged as he reminded her they needed a plan of action.

"You're right." Her chest heaved with deep breaths.

She couldn't stop staring at his mouth, imagining all the delicious things it could do to her body.

"Liv?" Maxwell hesitantly asked.

"Right. Save everyone." She repeated to herself. "Then make you use that mouth of yours all over my body."

"Whoa." Maxwell breathed. "You want that too?"

"STOP TALKING!" She roared. "Or I will be forced to hurt you!"

"Oh yeah?" He grinned at her.

"Yeah." She gripped his arm. "Out. Now."

"Where are we going?"

"To see if there is anyone left who can help us." She propelled him out into the upstairs hallway.

56 notes · View notes

beeslibrarycorner · 2 years

Text

Im Sorry

Peter Ballard x Reader

Word count: 1,218

Warnings; This gets angsty, dissociation, soft smut, fluff.

Plot: Peter says something that hurts your feelings, you both heal the way you both need.

Request: Can u do ( another one ik ) Peter Ballard x reader , fluff and smut ( idk if I can say that but “ vanilla smut ???” Yk like not hard one ) where Peter and y/n just had a argument , please !

Ps: ur stories are so good!! Thx

A/N: I'm going to use the setting from The Invisible Touch where Peter and reader escaped to california and reader works at a bookstore.

(Minors Do Not Engage)

You sighed as you put the documents in the filing cabinet by your office window, the apartment was quiet. You and Peter just had an argument, you didn't even know what it was about by the time it ended. The both of you had bad days and were releasing pent up anger from your stressful day. What got you was the comment he made that stopped everything, made your blood freeze and your heart stop.

“I should have left you with Brenner in Hawkins“

Just thinking about that comment made you shiver, that one comment opened up a wound that has not properly healed. It made you do something that you haven't done since you escaped the lab. You sat down and leaned against the filing cabinet, your mind went somewhere else. Your mind went to the beaches that you visited in the summer, it went to the bookstore when you had to work late nights.

The thing that brought you out of thought was the feeling of warm tears cascading down your cheeks. You wanted to go back to where your brain had taken you, wanted to go back to that warm fuzzy place that distracted you from the cold. You were cold, you felt numb, as you sat on the floor with your knees hugged tightly to your chest and your body cradled against the biting cold metal of the filing cabinet.

The soft feeling of the carpet felt good under your palms, it was warm. You wished that the warmth that you felt under you would surround you like a blanket. The dim lighting of your office was a comfort you were grateful for compared to the bright overbearing light of the sun that shined just outside, thank goodness for blackout curtains.

You heard his footsteps before you saw his shadow under the door, you saw him sit down and you heard the door groan in protest as he leaned against the door. He must have felt you through his powers, the guilt must have bled in after you backed away from him and retreated to the office.

You started to silently cry again, tears descending like rain drops after a massive heat wave. This was stupid, the feelings you were feeling were so very stupid. You felt like an emotional helpless teenager as you gripped the fabric of your shirt to ground yourself. You pressed yourself into the cold metal trying to will away the never ending tears.

“Sweetheart can we talk” you heard his soft voice ring out, it sounded like he was crying too. Sounded like he was going through the same excruciating pain that you were going through. “I cant get up” You stuttered on a sob, now he was going to know you were crying over a stupid comment. He was going to think you were weak, he was going to leave you; you shuddered. There was silence for a few moments and you were about to curl in on yourself when you heard the lock to the door click and you froze. Your eyes widened when he opened the door and crawled inside, he looked like a mess.

Tear stricken face and glassy eyes, he looked relieved when he spotted you. He crawled towards you stopping when he got close to you leaving space between the two of you, leaning against your wood desk. You lost the fight of willing the tears away and he started to cry harder as well. The guilt ate away at him, he did this to you; he used his powers to pull you towards him. Pressing your body to his as he sobbed into your hair, you were dampening the shirt he was wearing as you hid your face in his shoulder.

You pulled away from him, glassy blue eyes staring right back. He pressed his lips to yours, you felt more tears fall down your face. This was the only way he could say sorry at the moment, the guilt eating him up. He could hear Brenners voice after the venomous words left his lips hours ago.

“Your going to hurt her Peter, she's going to leave you once she realizes what you truly are”

He has told you those words before but you would laugh and tell him that would never happen. When he saw the pain in your eyes he felt his heart shatter and his lungs halt, he just wanted to reach out for you; take back what he had said. When the both of you pulled away you wordlessly understood what was going to happen next.

He started to kiss your neck as he unbuttoned your shirt, unhooked your bra and took your pants off leaving you in your soft panties. He moved to sit in between your legs, smoothing his hands over your naked shoulders and down your arms. He looked at you longingly, looking at you with stormy eyes that held a pain that you would probably never know. He took his clothes off leaving himself in his boxers, he moved towards you pulling you to him.

He kissed you, pressing his hands to the back of your head and the center of your back before lowering you to lay on the softness of your carpet. He gently pulled your panties down your thighs and past your calves, gently placing them near the both of you. He had swiftly removed his boxers and layed between your legs. You softly kissed his lips, and he pressed into you.

The both of you gasped at the intense feeling, not knowing what to do. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was the medicine you needed to remedy your hurting heart; the thing to mend the bleeding wound that got cut open. He smooshed his forehead into your right shoulder pressing a soft cluster of kisses to the skin below.

“I'm sorry I snapped at you sweetheart, I had a stressful day at work. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Im sorry” he murmured into the side of your head keeping a slow rhythm. He held you tighter to him like he was trying to keep you from breaking. “I don't deserve someone like you” you heard him whisper, pressing kisses like promises of a better tomorrow into the side of your head.

“I could never be with anyone else” he murmured into your hair yand you felt him twitch inside of you, you moaned. That's what did it for you, you came unexpectedly pressing your face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder; screwing your eyes shut. He didn't stop there, “I need you in my life, you're the light in my life. You're my moon and stars, my escape” he came rambling thrusting until there was nothing left to give.

He sluggishly kissed your bare chest as he tangled his fingers through your hair, kissing his way up to your face. A few minutes later you both wordlessly grabbed the clothes that were on your office floor, walking out together. You showered together, Peter pressing kisses to you as he washed the both of you up. He held you tighter that night afraid that you would leave him, afraid that in the morning you would be gone and he would never see you again.

#peter ballard x reader #001 x reader #stranger things season four

174 notes · View notes

quietmindretreat1 · 1 year

Text

Meditation Retreat Center San Diego

A "lake view hotel" might refer to a lake view from a specific place, such as a hotel room or outdoor space. A hotel with a lake view would provide a really good experience in Rooms & cottages in terms of facilities, services, and overall experience at Mountain Lodge. Its beautiful view adores anyone and might be a perfect staying for the next tour in your plan

#Mountain Lodge Julian California #Lake View Hotel Julian #Wellness resort San Diego #Meditation Retreat Center San Diego #Julian California Romantic Getaway #Yoga retreat San Diego #Romantic Julian #Wellness Hotel Southern California #San Diego spa resort couples #Lake Lodge Best Views Julian California #Silent retreat California #couples retreats #CA Hotel Rooms #Yoga Luxury Retreat Southern California #Meditation retreat California #San Diego Couples Getaway

1 note · View note

esoterium · 9 months

Text

@xxgotthedevilinsidexx || from here somewhere! || accepting!

" you’ve been checking up on me? " ( Jax from Tara )

jax's got a rare time where he's alone inside the club. everyone's out doing whatever and he's taken the time to retreat to his room and kick his feet up in: silence. eyes closed, smoke wafts towards the ceiling as he snubs out a cigarette and finishes the taste off with a swallow of beer before relaxing his head back against the wall and drawing in a breath of fresh california air coming from an open window. s'getting dark. means people will start to filter back once their bullshit's over for the day. but doesn't mean he can't take the time to enjoy some peace til then.

and he is...

til..out of the blue he's got a disembodied voice coming from his door and it damn near startles the shit out of him. TARA.

the jerk he makes from head back, eyes closed and hand on his bare stomach has him sitting up with his bare feet, jutting out from well worn jeans, on the floor quicker than a blink. round eyes to their whites eyes stare at her a few silent seconds before his hand pushes back the hair that's fallen in front of his face.

"fuck, tara!! can ya least warn me next time? call maybe?" it's his way of buying time. he's not ready to answer. if by checking up on her, she means asking everyone but her if she's been doing okay. has what she needs. if she's been safe and all that shit? well yeah. but it's not really checking up on her. it's just...keeping...yeah whatever. "nah. don't know what you been hearing but someone's full of shit and overexaggerating. i've been fuckin' off..." there's that grin. aimed right at the floor before it's aimed at her. sidelong. eye contact made. he's lyin'. and not truly giving a shit that he's getting caught cause he knows he is. might as well be his damn self about it.

"just like you said to..."

#every day's a new box..boys. you’re the one who determines if it’s a gift…or a coffin. (jax teller)#featuring: tara knowles teller (xxgotthedevilinsidexx #xxgotthedevilinsidexx #he is hopeless

10 notes · View notes

dasenergi · 1 year

Text

All the time before you were born... Plus all the time after you die... Is almost exactly all the time there is. Yet we find ourselves here, alive, in time, with a question: How should I live?

I'm going to be away from Tumblr May 8 - 14, 2023 (Monday to Sunday) for a 6-night Buddhist Silent Meditation Retreat.

No talking to another person, no looking at another person, no reading, no writing, no music, no TV, no smart phones, no internet...

Just me and my mind for six days and nights, meditating constantly.

Sitting meditation, walking meditation, eating meditation, working meditation, etc.

I am starting to get excited for it. I've done these MANY times before. I have been a practicing Buddhist for over 20 years. But I haven't gone on retreat since 2015. I am physically and spiritually a completely difference person than my last time. And these past nearly ten years or so, my spiritual focus has been in the mystical arts.

I am very curious to discover the inner-journey I will be going on during this retreat. I am looking forward to it.

Back in 2007 I brought my camera to a retreat and took pictures before and after the retreat. Here is where I will be, at Spirit Rock in Woodacre, California.

This is what an average daily schedule looks like:

This is the meditation hall:

And inside the meditation hall:

And this is one of the resident halls where I’ll be sleeping:

And inside my room back in 2007:

And the bell that calls us to sitting meditation inside of the hall:

And the dining room where we all silently practice eating meditation without looking at each other.

And the view of the outside from a window inside meditation hall:

And friends and teachers.

And a young Das Energi.

#spirit rock #meditation

17 notes · View notes

itsthebethblogever · 25 days

Text

Cute Abandoned Puppy

April 1, 2024

I want love but I feel unworthy.

I wanna wash away my mistakes but my hands feel dirty.

I wanna be patient but I’m already thirty.

I wanna tell my family but I don’t want them to worry.

I wanna get to the destination, fuck this uphill journey.

I wanna feel confident but my insides feel murky.

I come from a family that doesn’t express dark emotions.

And I’m repeating the pattern by escaping across oceans.

California’s too capitalist - maybe - just maybe! - if it wasn’t for the prices,

I would have stayed in the Bay Area and done hella tight shit.

Despite my roaming, I really do love my home.

Every time I return I’m reminded just how much I’ve grown.

Is this shit that I’m living all to make me realize

That Ventura’s got potential and I’ll help make it rise?

So that’s what I’ll do? After Australia, go back?

By then, maybe my brain will stop feeling so whack.

In future hindsight, when friends inquire, oh what will I tell them?

“How were your travels? The festivals?” Ah, the hell w/em.

The truth is my lack of flow has been a constant obsession.

It feels like my personality has gone through a regression.

What’s easiest is to hide my turbulent emotions with a smile.

Inside, the search for meaning perseveres, feeling longer than the Nile.

Always changing directions has me feeling like shit.

I must find my focus, the discipline to commit.

What do I want? A family. Security. Joy. Laughter.

Consistent community. A good job that matters.

A nook to read books full of cozy blankets and candles.

Card games, a shoe rack, someone to caress my love handles.

I ought to stop lying when people ask how I am.

I’m sad and I’m lost and I feel like a sham.

Constant worries about money torment my head.

It takes me an hour to get out of bed.

A laughter yoga workshop makes me wanna cry.

Even weed’s stopped helping - I’m low when I’m high.

So what is it? This funk, this era, this time?

To force me back to writing, remember to rhyme?

If so - then LOOK. I’m DOING it, OK?

Will sharing my feelings make the problem go away?

I’ve been banged on my head again and again.

If I was a bear, I’d crawl straight to my den.

There, nobody’d bother me and I’d have a look

Deep inside myself, meditate, and probably write a book.

About a woman who presented so happy go lucky

And underneath hid fear, like a cute abandoned puppy.

Afterword:

During the year I lived in Melbourne, I struggled to find a job that could support myself and the year long program I committed to. This and the dreadful weather lead to me spending much of my time at home, avoiding spending and the cold. Now that I’m traveling I’m feeling much better, yet, I find it hard to carry a conversation and banter with those around me. There is something in me that’s blocked or needs processing or something, which is the confusion I speak about. On May 27th I’ll attend a 10 day Vipassana silent meditation retreat, which I’m hoping will help. Let’s see how I go. Thanks for reading y’all, love to you <3

#poetry #writing #thirty #travel life #mental health

3 notes · View notes

theflyingfeeling · 2 years

Note

regarding to the shared flat fic ideas: something with drunken confessions?? and maybe it gets all awkward and the others being done with them and all thst?

so...maybe it goes like this:

One week into the California song camp and the band accidentally drinks too much wine at dinner: Niko turns all giggly, Joonas is flirting with the guy he met in the men's room, and Joel is arguing with a loud seagull that came to hang out behind the window by their table. Aleksi and Olli, though? They start exchanging warm looks over the table more frequently as the evening progresses, whispering their stupid inside jokes the others never even bothered to try to understand. Maybe their feet touch under the table, way too many times for it to be an accident. Maybe one rests their head on the other's shoulder on the taxi ride back home. Maybe they lean onto each other as they stumble upstairs to the bedrooms. Olli knows he should at least try to resist when Aleksi drags him to his bedroom instead of letting Olli retreat to his own. Maybe the look in Aleksi's bright, shining eyes has got a hold of Olli and his rapidly thumping heart, and the words just come out of his mouth before he can stop them. Maybe there's sloppy, drunken making out afterwards, although Olli isn't all so sure about that (maybe it was just a dream).

The following week they're barely able to look at each other, the memories of that night coming right back whenever their eyes accidentally meet (oh, how Olli misses the blue of Aleksi's). The others are quick to notice something's off but decide to not intervene, thinking it's best they solve it by themselves (they're dying to help them out actually, but this is Tommi's orders, all the way from Oulu). Maybe there are more secret looks excanged as the week goes on, perhaps even a silent chuckle at the other's joke or a soft nudge as they walk side by side to some local attraction near the Hollywood Hills Joonas is dragging them to. Maybe they stay behind the others, intentionally walking a little slower. They're still far too scared to say much of anything to each other, but maybe it's enough to just have the other there, right next to you, after a long week of yearning and worrying. Maybe holding their hand a little is a start (of what, Olli doesn't dare imagine just yet).

The Sunday of their second weekend in L.A. is chilly and kinda rainy, so it's decided they're staying in. Aleksi offers to look up his best pasta recipe, but he couldn't possibly go to the grocery store alone in such a big city, could he? (Tommi's orders also include they should always go out in pairs at least.) After all, he could really use a second opinion on which lemon looks the most juiciest or which pasta shape to choose, and maybe the others are occupied with tasks of their own, so Olli must offer his helping hand for Aleksi to hold all the way to their local super market and back. Maybe they slowly fall back into their easy Olli-and-Aleksi routine of silly jokes and soft smiles and physical intimacy, no longer caring nor knowing how to hide how much they've been missing each other, even though they've spent every day for the past few weeks in each other's immediate proximity. Maybe they stop at the door of their rental home away from home, hoping the other would say something, but suddenly the words that were so easy to blurt out the other night now seem to be stuck somewhere down their throats (or maybe they're right on the tip of their tongues and all it would take to lure them out was just a little more encouragement in the form of another tongue).

The evening is spent in the dim lighting of the kitchen (dim because they haven't figured out how to turn on the ceiling lamp), grating lemon peel and crushing garlic and torning fresh basil. Maybe they're standing close enough to each other to feel the other's warmth against their own arm (the kitchen is tiny, so who's to judge them?), but not close enough for the other to notice how you're trembling, or so Olli hopes (he's wrong). When their dinner preparations advance to a more passive stage, maybe the glow of the range hood light, although not the most romantic one, is just bright enough to reveal the whirlwind of emotions raging in both their eyes. Maybe the rain strumming on the windowsill in rhythm with Joel's acoustic guitar sounding from the living room is just comforting enough to have their shoulders relax; just homely enough to make them both forget they've travelled to the other side of the globe to be exactly where they've needed to be for so long.

"Are we done running in circles yet?" Aleksi asks, his quiet, familiar voice muffling all the other noises currently hitting Olli's eardrums.

A sigh of relief emptying Olli's lungs of air, then a sudden, yet long-awaited feeling of warmth and hope and love filling them again. Olli doesn't know which one of them leans in first (or maybe they both do, on a silent agreement), but once their mouths are reunited at last, there's no more uncertainty.

It is then Olli knows for sure; it had not been merely a dream.

#blind channel rpf #random tumblr ficlets by theflyingfeeling #i guess i can use that tag for this too #i don't know what exactly this is but gosh i loved writing this #i didn't MEAN for this to become anything but the words just kept coming 😂#i love love LOVE trying out different styles and patterns and playing with words #ollixallu #answered asks #anon asks

37 notes · View notes

metalscoops · 1 year

Text

You Promised

mungrove hurt/no comfort (major character death) short fic

It was inevitable their end. Like the sea retreating from the shore with the tides, or the falling of leaves from trees in the autumn.

But, unlike in nature, they had no new start with the passage of time. Theirs was a bitter finish, the last unwanted dregs of tea in a cup abandoned.

Eddie hadn't spoken to Billy in over five years when the phone rang and he heard what had happened. Ten years together, five years apart, nearly sixteen years post-mindflayer - and he found out from Dustin who’d ‘heard from Steve, who’d heard from El, who’d been told by Lucas and Max’;

Billy Hargrove had succumbed to his injuries and passed away.

Eddie couldn’t breath, couldn’t speak past the pain in his chest, the burning of tears in his throat and eyes. He clenched his teeth and gave some vague answer to Dustin’s shouts on the other end of the line before hanging up, slamming the receiver down in the cradle as he collapsed to the floor in a pile of uncoordinated limbs.

His mind spun with questions and admonitions for himself. Eddie had tried so hard for so long to help Billy, to support him.

They’d become friends slowly and surely, bonding through their healing processes, and slowly admitting their feelings for each other surpassed just friendship.

But Eddie had gotten better.

And after a while Billy had started getting bitter about it, months turned into years where the physical therapy and counsellor sessions and surgeries upon surgeries only helped him so far.

But it was chronic. You didn’t just survive a vicious attack like that without severe injuries and pain, and Billy’s were never going to go away.

Past the vain, cosmetic issues - his hair loss, the scars, the atrophied muscles - Billy had been faced with so much more. Permanent damage to his lungs and digestive system from the bleach, huge, gaping wounds all over his body that took years to fix and even then left their deep marks both physical and mental, and head trauma that had him suffering from dizziness, and headaches, and blackouts.

At first he’d been determined to get past it all, get back to the young man he’d been before being used up and spat back out. But, the longer passed, the worse Billy got. He stopped trying, or caring and by the time their ten-year anniversary was approaching he’d pushed Eddie so far away that even when they lay in the same bed, Eddie felt like he was beside a stranger.

Eddie had tried so hard. He was so tired. He’d pushed, he’d encouraged, he’d acquiesced, he’d done everything every book suggested to him for how to help people with chronic conditions.

But, none of those books knew the reason behind those injuries, none of them helped him address the mental anguish and pain every scar and mark had left on Billy. None of them helped him explain to Billy over and over that Eddie loved him no matter what, that the aesthetics didn't matter to him, that he didn't care if Billy had to walk with a cane, or use a wheelchair on his worst days.

Billy fought and pushed back so hard that Eddie had had no choice, for his own health, for his own sanity, but to leave.

He’d fled all the way back to Hawkins, leaving Billy and their sun-filled beach home in California (it was supposed to help, but it had just reminded Billy of how little he was able to do now).

Eddie’s apartment in Indianapolis was silent and empty, his bed cold and too big, his days free and empty. He still wasn’t used to it now, even with so many years and so many miles separating them.

It was the hardest and worst thing he’d ever done, but he had had to. He’d hoped that maybe he’d been the thing holding Billy back from progressing, that maybe without his suffocating presence Billy would blossom again.

Five years.

The worst five years of Eddie’s life, and they’d not been worth it, because Billy hadn’t gotten better had he?

He’d got worse.

So much worse that he was gone now.

Forever.

Eddie would never see him again.

Because…

Billy Hargrove had died - alone and in pain - on March 13th 2001, two weeks away from turning thirty-four.

#mungrove #stranger things #my writing #fanfiction #sad #angsty #billy hargrove #eddie munson

8 notes · View notes

chrisbitchtree · 2 years

Text

Because I Want It All - Chapter 2

Ch. 1

***

Nancy’s waiting for Steve when he exits English class with Billy by his side. He’s about to ask Billy if he wants to sit with him at lunch, but the second they walk through the door into the hall, Billy is telling him that he has peer tutoring to get to and that he’ll see him later. Steve waves at his retreating figure, shrugging his shoulders and allowing Nancy to guide him to the cafeteria.

Once in the cafeteria, she waves at a boy sitting all alone at a table in the corner. “Hi Jonathan,” she says, enthusiastically. “Steve, this is my friend Jonathan, and Jonathan, this is Steve. He’s a transfer student from California. I’ve been asked to show him around.” Jonathan gives him a half-hearted smile and hello, not taking his eyes off Nancy the whole time. Steve wonders if he has competition for Nancy but tries not to worry too much about it as he drops his bag and walks over to the lunch line.

“So, I see you’ve met Billy Hargrove. I know you can make your own choices, but I’m just letting you know from personal experience that Billy can be a bit of an asshole. He’s not exactly the kind of guy that most people want to be associated with,” she says once he returns, as she unwraps her sandwich and takes a bite.

Taking a look at the meatloaf and mashed potatoes he was served, he almost wishes he’d opted for the peanut butter and jam sandwich his mom had tried to make him as a peace offering, but that’s no longer an option, so he takes a bite. It’s funny how no matter where you go, school lunches are all the same, horrible crap. “Yeah, I met him in English,” he replies as he wolfs down his meal, already trying to forget it. “He was really nice to me. He told me about basketball tryouts, and he invited me to a Halloween party on Friday. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go with me? To the party? Not the tryouts.” Nancy laughs softly at his lame attempt at a joke, and Jonathan stays silent.

Nancy looks at Jonathan for a moment before responding. “Well, Jonathan and I were planning on hanging out on Halloween. We were going to rent some movies and watch them at my place. Could I bring Jonathan?”

Steve’s not really keen on some guy crashing their date, but he wants to make her happy, so he agrees. “I’m sure it’s not a problem.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Jonathan says, waving them off. “Maybe I’ll go out with Will and his friends. I’m sure your parents will be happy if Mike has someone older out there with him.”

“Ok, thanks, Jonathan,” Nancy says, turning to Steve with a growing smile.

“Sure thing,” the other boy says quietly, picking up a book.

Steve feels bad, but the other guy should have made his move if he wanted Nancy so bad.

***

Billy can barely focus during his peer tutoring session, his mind filled with visions of puppy dog eyes and floppy brown hair. He has to apologize more than once to the kid he’s tutoring, because he can suddenly barely remember the basic plot points of To Kill a Mockingbird, let alone the finer points of the lessons that can be learnt from it.

He finally tells the kid to go grab a soda while Billy reads over his essay alone, just so he can have a minute to think. What the fuck does he do about Harrington and his little infatuation with Wheeler? Nancy’s insufferable, but it’s been half a day and Steve already seems a little gone on her. But Billy can’t really blame him when he feels the same way about Steve. It’s not until the kid returns that Billy realizes he’s almost chewed through the red pen he was using to edit the paper.

Billy spends the rest of the tutoring session half focused on making sure the kid understands why his paper sucks and how to fix it, and half focused on getting to see a sweaty Steve in shorts at basketball tryouts the next afternoon. He’s going to play like shit with that in front of him.

***

The next morning, Steve hauls his gym bag downstairs with him. His parents had been happy to hear it when he’d told them the night before that he was going to try out for the basketball team. They’ve given up hope on him succeeding academically, so they’re pinning all their hope on him excelling in sports. He was captain of the basketball and swim teams back home, but he’s sure it’ll be different here, where there it’s already been established who the star players are.

When he gets to school, he parks near where Billy is leaning against a blue Camaro with a short redheaded boy that seems to be doing most of the talking while Billy sucks on a cigarette.

“Is this him?” Steve can hear the other guy ask Billy as he approaches. He has the energy of a puppy, and honestly, it’s a lot to take in this early in the morning.

Billy nods, crushing the butt of his cigarette under his boot. “Steve Harrington, meet Tommy Hagan. He’s going to be on the basketball team with us.”

Both Steve and Tommy look at Billy like he knows something they don’t. “I haven’t even tried out for the team yet, Billy. How do you know I’ll make it?”

“Yeah,” Tommy adds. “How do you know? Just because you’re captain of the team doesn’t mean you get to decide who makes it.”

Billy looks Steve up and down. “Look at the legs on him, Tommy. There’s no way he’s not making it onto the team.”

Steve flushes under Billy’s gaze, not really sure what to make of how the other boy’s praise makes him feel. He says his goodbyes and wanders off to find Nancy.

***

Billy’s right. Steve does great during tryouts, using his long, gangly limbs to his advantage. Billy’s still riding the high from all the bodily contact he got to make from Steve when the coach announces the team roster. Steve’s made it, no influence from Billy necessary.

It’s a tradition at Hawkins High that the captain gets to pick their assistant captain, and Billy tries to ignore the outraged looks that Tommy, who was definitely expecting to be picked, gives him when he announces that he’s selected Steve. It’s not all self-serving though. Steve really is a great player and will serve the team well in the role.

Now with tryouts done, he can focus on getting amped for Friday. Even with Wheeler there, it’s going to be a great time. In the dressing room, he does everything he can to keep himself from gawking at Steve's naked body, focusing on his own shower and rushing out after as fast as he can.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #my fic #chrisbitchtree writes

50 notes · View notes