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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iii

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chapter summary: Somehow, you realize you've accidentally ended up spending almost every weekend for the last month and a half with either one, or all of the Millers. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.7k chapter warnings: some angst, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts (but no smut), referenced parental neglect, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues (shocker!) & a fear of intimacy. a/n: this chapter is so disgustingly sweet it might give you a cavity. truly. but its also a little self-indulgent because joel is in my dream blunt rotation :/ please be patient with updates because i have a career/social life/apartment, and am a perfectionist! i promise i will always (try) to make the wait worth your while. Also, here's a link to the song Joel plays on guitar, since it's not on Spotify so I couldn't add it to the playlist.

-April 19, 2003-

“Well, that was awkward.”

Obviously, Joel thinks to himself as Sarah turns to watch the retreating form of her teacher, while Joel stares straight ahead at the crowd in front of him. At first, he had thought she was just being polite. It was the right thing to do, to say hello to a parent and a student if you see them outside of class. But…they were seeing each other at a bar. And she’d asked him to dance.

We just got here, maybe later? Joel can’t even remember what he had said, something along those lines. It wasn’t a flat-out refusal, but he had been acutely aware of Sarah’s eyes boring into the back of his head from where she sat beside him, and he sort of blacked out, couldn’t recall what had caused her to get the hint, to walk away.

Joel grunts an affirmation to Sarah, and drums his fingers against the tabletop. There’s a dance floor full of people in front of him, all under various levels of intoxication, all of them dancing.

“Do you believe me now?” Sarah asks.

“I never said I didn’t believe you.”

How he had allowed Tommy and Sarah to talk him into coming here tonight, he’s not sure. Probably, it had something to do with how much he loved them both. How he would, ultimately, do whatever they asked if he knew it’d make that happy. But still, honky-tonking is the last thing he wants to be doing at the end of a long week.

There was pretty much only one decent bar in town, so he wasn’t exactly shocked he had run into someone he knew. Everyone came here – to dance, to drink, to eat, or to drown their sorrows. To see their friends, or even to find someone to take home for the night. And over the years, as a frequent customer, Joel had used this place to do all those things.

Tonight was special though, a little more family friendly. It was swing night. It happened once a month, and Joel had always made a point to take Sarah a couple times a year. When he was young, his mother had taught him and Tommy to dance, and he felt it was only appropriate to pass the skill along, even if it was almost obsolete. He hoped Sarah would be able to do the same someday, if she ever had children of her own.

“Will you dance with me, at least?” Sarah asks.

“Of course I will,” Joel answers.. “But let’s wait for Tommy, he’s ordering our drinks.”

“You mean your drinks.”

“No, you got a Shirley Temple.”

Sarah narrows her eyes. It’s the same expression that Joel has only seen her use recently, and he actually prefers it less to the eye roll. This time, he’s glad it hasn’t come with a question from her, because when it does, it’s always a little more frightening. “Come on, you know that’s not the same.”

Before Joel can respond, he’s cut off by Tommy’s voice.

“Look who I found.”

This is what he and Sarah have been waiting on, and Joel turns to sees Tommy with all three of their drinks in hand. Over his shoulder, there’s a woman who looks vaguely familiar, wearing daisy dukes and a plaid shirt. After a second, he realizes it’s you.

Most of the time when Joel sees you – from across the street, of course – you’re in a power suit, a pencil skirt. Sometimes, it’s more casual – athletic clothes. There was also that black silk robe he can’t seem to shake from his memory. But this is so…different. It’s clear you’re trying to blend in with the crowd, but you don’t. Not because you’re not pulling it off – you definitely are, effortlessly – he’s just pretty sure if he walks into any room you’re in, his eyes will always be drawn in your direction.

Joel doesn’t see, but rather feels – Sarah recognize that you’re in front of her, because when she does, she’s tapping him on the arm before he can utter a greeting. “Dad, can I get out and say hi?”

He’s standing to let her out just as you step closer to the table, and you come chest to chest. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi, Joel,” you say, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes remain locked on his just a moment too long, before Sarah is wrapping you up in a hug, and you’re focused on her when she draws back. “How are you?” you ask.

Joel doesn’t hear Sarah’s response, because his brother is pressing a drink into his hand - a Jack and Coke, same as what you and Tommy are drinking.

“Sit down, please!” Tommy encourages.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “This looks like a family thing, I don’t want to-”

“Please!” Sarah exclaims.

“What she said,” Tommy seconds Sarah’s sentiments.

For a second, you seem to contemplate the offer, and then you accept the invitation, sliding into the booth across from where Sarah has settled back next to her father. Joel makes eye contact with his brother, sitting next to you. Tommy’s eyebrows are raised suggestively, and there’s a playful smirk on his face when he tilts his head in your direction. Joel gives him nothing, already irritated by his brother’s goading.

“Is that a Shirley Temple?” you point to Sarah’s drink. When she nods, you continue. “I haven’t had one of those in forever,” you say.

“Want a sip?”

“Sure,” Sarah slides the glass across to you, and you sip from the straw, pondering. “I should’ve gotten one of those instead. They were my favorite growing up.”

“Can I have a sip of yours?”

“No,” you and Joel say at the same time.

“You’re not gonna like it,” he adds.

“You always say that, but how can you know?”

Joel sighs. “Okay, fine. Try mine.”

Sarah seems pleased to get what she wants. When the bitterness of the whiskey registers, the triumphant expression leaves her face completely.

“Told you,” he says. Sarah grimaces, accepting defeat, and returns to her beverage.

Tommy leans forward, urging Joel to start making conversation as if this is a date and it’s his responsibility. But before he can think of anything, Sarah pipes up.

“Guess what?” she asks you.

“What?”

“My teacher’s here.”

“Yeah?” you ask. Joel takes a long pull off his drink, hoping it’ll loosen him up a little.

“Yeah, she tried to hit on my dad.”

Joel feels the cocktail of whiskey and soda get caught in his throat.

“Oh….” you sound intrigued, and you lean forward. He wonders if this is the dynamic between you and Sarah when he’s not around. Like you’re two friends, engaging in some harmless gossip. “Really?” Your gaze flickers between him and Sarah.

Sarah bobs her head once. “She has a thing for him. I can tell.”

“What makes you think that?” his brother joins in, moving closer to Sarah, crowding you between himself and the wall and putting his elbows on the table. Joel feels a flash of envy when you shift your attention towards Tommy.

“She just asked him to dance.” Sarah looks over her shoulder, nods her head towards the woman in the corner of the bar who’s probably already focused on his table anyways. Joel already knows what you’re seeing. Miss Davis is pretty, bubbly, outgoing. Probably about your age, if he had to guess, though it’s hard to say how old you are. He imagines he has ten years on you, give or take a few. And for all intents and purposes, Sarah’s teacher is the type of woman he should be interested in.

“She’s pretty,” you say it like you’re appeasing Sarah, but you’re looking directly at Joel. He’s not sure why you kind of frighten him a little. You’re sweet, he knows, even if you’ve tried to tell him otherwise. But there’s something else there, enigmatic and alluring, that continues to draw him in.

Tommy chimes in. “So are you gonna dance with her, Joel?”

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says dramatically. Her face drops for a second, though, her shoulders slumping as she angles herself towards him, lowers her voice. “I mean, if you want to, that’s fine, I guess. But I….I don’t know.”

Joel is taken aback by how long this conversation has gone on with absolutely no input from himself. Not to mention how honest Sarah is being. She doesn’t usually have much to say about his choice in women – he can usually just tell what she thinks. For her to express something so directly makes him realize how serious she is. But at the moment, he can’t find words to assure her everything will be fine.

It must be his lack of response that causes you to lean across the table and speak to Sarah. “You know, that’s valid,” there’s a tenderness to your tone. It dawns on him that you’re trying to comfort her. “It is kind of a conflict of interest.”

“Right?” Sarah perks up, just slightly, you’ve given her some support. “It’s one of those things you said you had going on at work the other day an….an ethical…”

“An ethical dilemma?” you finish her thought.

“Ethical dilemma! That’s it.” Sarah turns back towards Joel. “I think it's an ethical dilemma.”

For just a split second, he wonders why he’s been letting his already-precocious child hang out regularly with a lawyer. He’s accidentally creating a monster. But thankfully, Joel is finally able to find his voice. “There is no ethical dilemma, because I wouldn’t ever consider it.”

That seems to placate Sarah, and hopefully everyone will decide to drop it. Joel catches your eyes, and there’s something akin to wistfulness there, chin propped on your hand, before you blink once and focus back on Tommy, who's asking you a question. “So, are you here alone?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not at all,” Tommy smirks, not dropping his eye contact with you. “...It’s just surprising, is all.”

Joel stiffens.

“Oh, well…” you smile a little. “I’m just trying to get to know the town a little better. Trying to engage in the community, I guess. But…I’m not sure if I am doing that great of a job fitting in.”

“You are,” Joel interjects, and maybe it’s a little forward, but he’d rather say it before Tommy does. “That’s a nice flannel.”

“Thanks,” You look down at your oversized plaid shirt – the sleeves rolled up to the elbows – that hangs open over a tight white tank top. Joel can see a sliver of the black lace bra you’re wearing that pokes out above the low neckline. He wonders what it might feel like to press his face there, to feel your fingers carding through his hair, but does not allow himself to entertain the idea for very long. Not the time. “I actually had to go and buy it because I didn’t own any plaid. And by the looks of it,” You gesture towards the dance floor. “I need to invest in some cowboy boots, too.”

“One thing at a time, right?” he asks, and you agree.

“So what are you all doing here? Family outing?”

“We actually had to drag this one kicking and screaming out the door,” Tommy points to Joel.

“You did not,” Joel defends himself.

‘We kinda did,” Sarah says. “Do you know how to dance?”

You shake your head no, look at the people twirling and dipping and dancing in pairs. “Not like that.”

“It’s really easy! I can teach you. My dad taught me.”

“Cute.” Joel looks towards Sarah, and catches you staring instead. Your eyes flit back immediately to his daughters. “But I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sarah says like it’s already settled. Joel knows he’s spoiled her, that she ultimately gets what she wants. He worries sometimes that others won’t find her quite as endearing.

“Sarah,” he warns. “You’re making it sound like she doesn’t have a choice.”

You hide a smile behind the rim of your glass. “It’s okay. You can teach me. Might as well learn, if I’m trying to fit in.”

Sarah seems satisfied.

“Joel tells me you grew up in New York City.” Tommy says it, and Joel notices you raise your eyebrows at the implication. He’s talked to Tommy about you. And now you know. He’s pissed at himself for doing it, but at the time he’d been drunk, a little more chatty and vulnerable than usual, and had mentioned you more than once. Too much to be a coincidence. The issue was, Joel had never expected you would talk to Tommy again. If he’d known you would, he wouldn’t have said anything. He doesn’t want to imagine the damage he had done when it was just the two of you, alone at the bar. But even now, he’s completely at his brother’s mercy.

“Yep,” you nod.

“You don’t have much of an accent,” Tommy remarks.

“Not everyone has them.”

“That’s fair.”

“I did, uh, go to a boarding school in a different state, though, so I wasn’t around it too much.”

“Boarding school?” Sarah turns to Joel.

“Basically you live at school,” you answer her question. ”Kind of like college, but earlier. I started going when I was nine.”

Sarah frowns. “Wouldn’t you miss your family?”

“Yes, and I did.”

“So why would you go?”

“Well…” you trail off, shift your weight. “It wasn’t up to me. My dad worked a lot, so it made sense.”

“What’d he do for a living?” Asks Tommy.

“He’s a criminal defense attorney....owns his own firm and it does pretty well, so…” you shrug. “He was very busy.”

“And that’s why you’re a lawyer? To work for your dad?”

“At one point, that was the plan, yes."

“What happened?”

The question appears to make you uncomfortable, you cross your legs and glance down at the table. “Uhm….pass.” Joel sees your face go blank for a split second before you look up with an easy smile. It’s like the desolate look you’d been wearing was never there, and you point to your drink. “I’ll need a few more of these if you want that story.”

“Might as well order another round,” Tommy flags down a waitress.

You have one more drink, but you don’t really touch it as the four of you continue to talk. Joel has two more, and Tommy has three, because he’s Tommy, and also not driving. Both you and Joel also have to vehemently refuse his request to do a round of tequila shots.

After a while, Sarah gets bored, then insists on teaching you to dance. You agree, but seem awfully reluctant. Joel wants to pull you aside and let you know that you don’t have to entertain everything Sarah offers, but once you’ve stood up, and he watches her arm link through yours as you both walk to the dance floor, he can’t bring himself to intervene.

He’s never seen Sarah be so taken with someone before, and he’s filled with a vague sense of regret. He always thought that she was content with just him and Tommy. Maybe she has always needed more. It’s partially his responsibility, Joel thinks – what could he have done to stop her mother from leaving? Even if he could’ve stopped it, they would’ve been a miserable couple…which might have been more damaging to Sarah than her mother not being around at all.

Once you’re long gone, Joel can sense what Tommy is thinking before he even opens his mouth.

“Shut it,” Joel says before he can even hear his brother's ribbing.

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything about that!” Tommy raises his hands, but Joel knows he’s lying.

“We should go over there,” Joel says. He trusts you, but in a bar full of drunk people isn’t interested in being far away from Sarah for too long. Both he and Tommy abandon their booth to mosey their way towards the dance floor.

Sarah has taken you into a back corner, far away from the band playing, where the crowd has thinned a little. There’s room for him and Tommy to lean up against the wall and watch you both.

Both your hands are clasped with Sarah’s, and she’s teaching you the counts, the steps, while you study the way that your feet move.

Joel has a feeling that if it weren’t for his daughter, you wouldn’t have hung out with his family for so long. It’s just like the hike, and as usual, he feels more like a third wheel than anything else. You’re right that you do look a little out of place here. Maybe you don’t belong, but he likes it. You’re wearing a pair of beat up hi-tops, which are a sharp contrast to Sarah’s baby blue cowboy boots that are covered in rhinestone butterflies. He’d gotten them for her for Christmas that past year, and she only wore them during special occasions like this.

Joel is doing the best he can not to think about the way your legs look in those fucking daisy dukes. All on display, and he wonders what it might feel like to drag his tongue up the soft skin of your inner thigh, feel you quiver and whimper as he works his mouth closer to– Enough. He’s disgusted with himself for thinking about you like that right now.

“Dad, look!” Sarah says, and it seems you’re catching on all right, but none of it looks graceful. Sarah’s trying to lead – which she has never done – so she falters often, and also can’t quite reach all the way above your head when she tries to spin you around. “Oh no, look at his face!” Sarah points. You turn his direction, and Joel realizes he has to neutralize the grimace that has crept onto his visage. “We definitely aren’t doing good.”

“I’ll get the hang of it,” you turn back to Sarah, assure her. “You’re a good teacher.” You’re being nice. Too nice, humoring her and laughing it off, even if she’s making a fool of you both. But you don’t seem to mind, because it’s making her happy.

All of the sudden, the toe of Sarah’s boot catches on the scuffed wood floor and she lurches forward. Joel immediately pushes himself off the wall as though he could close the space and catch her before she faceplants, but he can’t, and he can already see a vision of himself sitting in the emergency room at 2 a.m waiting, while Sarah holds an ice pack on her nose. But you reach out before the image is fully realized, arms wrapping around her shoulders. “Careful!” You warn. And even though you shuffle forward with the weight of her, you keep her from falling. Once she realizes she’s safe, Sarah giggles and throws her head back, her eyes catching your own.

He’s not sure what makes him do it. It could be the liquor, the way you look, the unspoken pressure from Tommy. Or maybe he’s just been wanting an excuse to be closer to you. Most importantly, at this rate, he feels like Sarah is going to hurt herself and also you in the process. Regardless of what the reason is, Joel decides to step in. He walks onto the dance floor.

“Alright,” Joel says once he’s gotten closer, looking at Sarah. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“What?”

He halts in front of his daughter, jerks his hand. “Move. I’m takin’ over.”

Sarah rolls her eyes, but smiles a little, and drops her hands from your shoulders. Joel offers you his hand. “You mind?”

You look between Joel and Sarah, and she gives you an encouraging nod. “He taught me, he does know what he’s doing.”

“Well okay,” you take Joel’s hand. “You better not embarrass me,” and then you actually fucking wink at him. Already overwhelmed by the delicate weight of your hand in his palm, it almost sends him over the edge. He’s lucky he’s in public, with his family, because he doesn’t think he’d behave himself otherwise.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Joel answers. “Besides, I don’t think anything could be worse than what I was just watching.”

You giggle, and step forward when he tugs you just closer to dance, taking you fully in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sarah dragging Tommy onto the dance floor. Everyone is taken care of.

You’re smart. And because of it, you’re a fast learner. Even people who can’t really dance can usually figure this out, himself included. But in Joel’s opinion, it’s always been less about getting the steps right, and more about who’s keeping him company.

And you’re great company.

Eager, willing, gentle…soft. He’s embarrassed at how long it’s been since he’s been this close to an adult woman, and normally he might be a little nervous, but instead, he just feels…comfortable.

But Joel is a selfish man. He always wants more. Wants the band to play a slower song, so then he’d have an excuse to pull you closer. Wind an arm around your waist, whisper things in your ear that no one else could hear, and feel your breath hitch when they register. But this isn’t really the dance for that, and the rest of his family is just steps away. He’ll have to compromise – which he doesn’t like.

“I’m going to dip you,” Joel says, matter-of-factly.

“No you’re not.”

“I am,” he insists. “It’s essential.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Look,” he tilts his head to Tommy and Sarah, and the latter is laughing as she pitches all her weight backwards into his arms. He nearly drops to one knee to catch her, she’s still so petit, but their form is actually pretty good. And they aren’t the only people in the room doing it.

“Okay,” you say, and give him a warm smile for a split second before becoming stone-faced. “But if you drop me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Joel drawls.

He puts his arms around your waist, one of them catching the middle of your back, the other on a patch of exposed skin on your hip – your tank top has ridden up slightly with all the movement. You dig your fingers into his biceps, cling to him like he had hoped you would.

And even when he draws you back up, eyes locked with your own, your grip remains the same. You stay close.

“My turn,” Tommy interjects, and Joel can’t help the dirty look he gives him over your shoulder. He’s playing the annoying little brother, doing everything he can to piss him off. His brother wants to see Joel break, but he’s not going to give him the satisfaction.

Plus, Joel is happy to dance with Sarah, which is the whole reason they came here in the first place. She’s so excited to be there, and he wonders if there will ever be a time when she’s too grown up for things like this. He hopes not.

He ignores the sound of Tommy’s laugh mingled with your own. You were not laughing that much with him, and that causes a pang of jealousy. Joel doesn’t like acknowledging it, but he’s always resented Tommy for his ability to be the charismatic one, the charming one, the happy-go-lucky one. Even when they were kids. That’s what it’s like to be the oldest sibling. Never as fun, always more practical, more serious, the voice of reason. Always in service to their siblings, all in the name of love.

Eventually, you and Sarah are back dancing together, and since you’ve had some practice separately, it’s not as sloppy as before. It allows Joel and Tommy to return to their post against the wall, just out of earshot.

Joel feels his brother’s eyes on him as he watches you and Sarah. “Dude,” he finally gives in, looks over at Tommy. “Just ask her out already.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Tommy-”

“You’re into her.”

“Maybe,” Joel says, because he knows it’s pointless to lie. “But she’s got a boyfriend.”

Tommy elbows him. “So what?”

“I know you’re alright bein’ a homewrecker but I-”

“It makes sense Joel. She’s fuckin’ smart, and funny, and pretty. And Sarah fucking loves her-”

In any other situation, he would’ve acted weeks ago. But he’s starting to understand why he’s dragging his feet. Tommy’s right. Sarah adores you. Joel will fuck something up, it’s inevitable. And when you decide you never want to speak to him again, Sarah will lose you too. He’s already let her down enough.

“I should’ve never fuckin’ told you–”

“Take her to drinks, to the movies, dinner, show up at her house with a bottle of wine, hell, something. If you don’t ask her out already, then I will.”

Joel punches his brother on the shoulder. It’s not enough to incite an actual fight, but it’s definitely not playful. “Ow!” Tommy grips at his arm. “What?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, he rolls his eyes.

“Speaking from experience, I’m surprised you haven’t already,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Once, Joel. That was one time. Will I never hear the end of it?”

“No,” Joel says. “And I see what you were doing tonight, too. Don’t think you’re slick.” he hopes to change the subject, and it seems to be working.

Tommy sets them back on track. “Well, I was just trying to get you to wake the fuck up and see what’s in front of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What happens when Sarah grows up? Goes to school, leaves the house? Then, what are you gonna do? You’re just gonna be alone?”

“You are treadin’ on some mighty thin ice, Tommy,'' Joel hisses. ““You barely know this woman-”

“I’d like a family, too, Joel. When that happens I won’t be able to keep you company anymore. You might want someone else. And maybe it’s not her, fine. But there should be someone.”

For as much as he hates to admit it, Joel knows Tommy is right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 25, 2003-

It’s six at night. and you’re already in your pajamas.

A couple years ago, you would’ve thought that was pretty sad. These days, it’s only a little sad. You prefer things this way. That’s the perk of being an adult living alone. If you want to put on pajamas before the sun sets on a Friday night, you can. If you want to get stoned on the back porch of the house you bought yourself, you can. If you want all those things to happen while you watch the sunset and listen to yacht rock, you can. And you’re going to.

You’re toying with the new digital camera your brother bought for you. Vincent likes to argue with you, but he always feels guilty after a conversation gone wrong. Rather than use his words, however, he just buys you gifts. You had apologized over the phone a few days ago…this was his way of doing the same. The shutter clicks as you snap a photo of your backyard, and you look at it in the viewfinder before discarding the camera on your coffee table.

Martini is on the porch with you, doing that thing where he stands just out of reach but chirps at you until you pet him. When you reach out, he moves away. He’s not great at accepting what he wants. Maybe it’s why he’s sort of the perfect cat for you – you’re the same.

You light your bowl, and you’re mid-inhale when you hear someone call your name.

“Hey!”

At this point, you’d recognize Joel Miller’s voice anywhere. You don’t want to admit it’s because you’ve tried to commit it to memory, daydreamed about how it might sound for his smooth lilt to read you a book until you fall asleep, or listen to him take a phone call in the other room.

Realizing it’s him, you inhale sharply, forgetting what you’re in the middle of and taking a much bigger hit than you had intended. You begin choking violently on the smoke while simultaneously scrambling to hide your piece and the related paraphernalia sitting out, and manage to do so just in time for him to round the corner.

You scramble to hide your bowl under the pillow of the outdoor couch you sit on, just in time for Joel to appear at the screen door.

“Hey,” you say, covering your mouth. Your throat burns, and you cough again. Stay cool, stay calm. Everything is good. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I tried your front door and you weren’t answering, so I thought I’d see if you were back here.” It’s hard to see him from here, through the door, and he’s backlit by the sun that’s shimmering behind his dark hair, catching it in a golden halo.

You rise to open the door, and when you do, he continues. “I’m here to pick up Sarah’s soccer jersey.”

Right. Of course he was. She had left it a few days before, and you had assumed she’d come get it before her game on Saturday but it didn’t dawn on you until now that she ever had.

“I would’ve sent her, but she’s at a sleepover tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, standing in place. You’re trying so desperately to act normal, words evade you.

Joel squints at you, a slight smirk on his face. “I didn’t catch you off guard or anything, did I?’

“No, no, not at all,” you lie. “Come on in.”

Joel steps over the tiny dish of cat food you’ve left on your back step for the stray you feed, and into the screened-in porch. Now that he’s under the dim light, you get a better look at him. A loose-fitting flannel hangs open over a worn green t-shirt that barely meets the top of his jeans. His hair is damp, like he’s just showered, and he smells clean. In any other situation, you’d want to climb him like a tree, and he’s not even trying. But right now, you’re just doing your best impression of a sober human that is definitely not doing anything illegal. The truth is, you should’ve made him wait outside.

“This is nice,” Joel says, looking around. And you really wish he wasn’t because you notice that you left the clear plastic baggie containing your weed out on the couch. It sort of blends in with the green floral pattern, so you hope for the best, because there’s no way for you to sneakily grab it without drawing his attention. “I didn't know this was back here.”

“The last owners added it on,” you say, because that was the type of thing the realtor had said to you about the features of this house. And you supposed a carpenter or contractor would probably be interested in it. It was a good distraction.

“I can tell. Looks new,” he looks up towards the wooden beams that span the ceiling. The top of the porch is still covered, so during the few times it’s rained, you always sit outside to listen.

“I’ve got her jersey in the kitchen,” you tell him. “Wait here.”

It doesn’t take long for you to pick out the bright blue athletic gear from your pile of dry cleaning. It stands out against all your neutral-colored pantsuits. Joel has his back to you when you return, one of his hands clenched into a fist.

“Here,” you say, and he turns.

“You had it dry cleaned? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I kind of wasn’t sure if it was safe to run through the machine,” you explain. “But now that I’m thinking about it….it wouldn’t make sense to give a bunch of 11-year-olds dry clean only jerseys.”

“It wouldn’t. But it’s probably more convenient than scrubbing the grass stains out yourself.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately. But again…thank you.”

“Of course.”

This is where Joel should leave, walk across the street, and go home. And he does, well, at least, he starts to. He steps away, reaches for the handle to your back door, and then pauses. “You know,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “The Watsons were tellin’ me the other day you’ve been complaining about a family of skunks living under your house?”

You freeze, recalling the lie you’d come up with on a whim when your sixty-year-old neighbors had started asking too many questions.

“Well, it does smell a little over here.”

“Uh-huh,” you give him nothing.

“Something like that….you should really call animal control. Get rid of the problem,” Joel’s facing you now, eyebrow raised.

“If I call animal control…they’ll just kill them,” you answer. “And I don’t want that. So…I think I’ll just have to live with it.”

“That’s fair,” Joel says. “But you know, Sarah’s over here all the time, and I’ve never heard her mention it.”

At this point you know he’s just fucking with you. But years of remaining stone-faced through business negotiations and family dinners has prepared you for this, so even if you’re a little stoned, you’re not going to let him win.

“Yeah, it sounds like a coincidence. But they’re never around when she’s here,” you say, in your own defense. “Ever,” you add for emphasis.

“I guess that’s good.”

You both stare at each other for a second, and your blood buzzes slightly because even though this is just a playful standoff, you’ve never made such intense eye contact with him. It feels electric. After what feels like an eternity, Joel lifts his hand from his hip, and you see what he’d been holding in his fist, now pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He raises an eyebrow.

When you see the plastic baggie dangling in front of your face, you purse your lips. “Alright, you got me,” you lift up your hands, but snatch the bag from him.

“And here I thought you were such a good girl.”

You don’t even want to acknowledge the full body chill that runs down your spine at the sound of those two words, coming from him. Snatching the bag back from him, he gives you a cheeky smile. “If you give me a hit, I won’t tell anyone.”

Your jaw drops, and you look up at him. “Oh, you’re trouble.”

“I’m not the one lyin’ to my neighbors.”

“And I’m not the one snooping through my neighbors' things.”

“It was right out in the open.”

Joel doesn’t seem bothered at all. But it’s Texas, so you can never be sure. “Okay, fine,” you say. “If you want….I could roll us a joint. Unless you have other plans.”

“The alternative is a house to myself for the evening and some chores, so…yeah. Whatever you’d like.”

“Great.”

Joel follows you to sit on the couch. As you settle on opposite ends, he speaks up. “So you think you could explain to me why my daughter keeps tellin’ me she wants to be a lawyer?”

You snicker. “Believe me, Joel. I’ve tried to talk her out of it already.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. Probably a more lucrative career than what I’m doing. She’s really taken a liking to you, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her warm up to anyone so quick.”

“Well, I’m the first adult she knows that’s not an authority figure.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“I remember being that age,” you look down at your work. “It’s nice to have someone older to relate to, who you can talk to without being afraid of getting a lecture.”

“She probably needs it,” Joel says. “She told me you talk about girl stuff. I’m not so great at that.”

“I don’t know,” Your tongue darts out to wet the edge of the paper and finish rolling the joint. You put it between your lips, and rummage through the drawer of the coffee table to find your lighter, gesture between the both of you. “This is about ninety percent of how I spent my time with my friends at her age…and so far you’re doing alright.”

“Now you’ve got me worried about what’s going on at that sleepover.”

“Okay, well, I was maybe a little older. And with her? You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you shake your head.

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes glow with the reflection of your lighter as it’s flicked on. “I don’t know.”

“She’s fine, Joel,” you say, bringing the lighter closer and shielding the flame from the calm breeze of the evening. “She’s great. Really.”

“She is,” he agrees. You inhale, let the smoke settle in your lungs for a moment, before exhaling. You take your time, feeling warm from the weed and the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, and he accepts the joint when you pass it over.

“I really didn’t really expect this from you,” he exhales, studying your handiwork before taking another puff. “You’re pretty buttoned up.”

“This is hardly rebellious.” Instinctually, you like the idea that he thinks you’re buttoned up. Deep down, however, you don’t actually want him to.

He looks so dreamy, the smoke curling though his eyelashes, tracing along his defined jaw, and then up, up, where it settles and shifts under the porch light, before disappearing completely.

Martini, who has been in hiding, hops up on the couch, and Joel reaches out, your cat nuzzling its face into his palm. “Didn’t know you had a cat,” he mumbles. And then, like some sort of magic, the cat plops down on Joel’s lap.

“I do…but…” you say out loud, then trail off because you’re in such shock. You glance up at Joel, who looks confused. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen him do this.”

He passes the joint back to you. “Do what?”

You take a final puff, and then put it out in an ashtray. It’s only about half smoked, but you can get into it later if either of you wants to. Plus, you’re more interested in what’s unfolding in front of you. “I kinda want a picture of this.”

“What?”

“I’ve had him for five years and he’s never sat on my lap like that,” you say, and you can’t keep the resentment from dripping into your tone. “What makes you so special? I’m a little jealous.”

“Of me? Or the cat?”

Something honey-thick drips down your spine at his words. You can’t conjure a witty response, opting instead for: “Shut up.”

You snap a couple photos while Joel’s still laughing, one hand on his chest, the other on Martini’s back, and then put the camera down, and lean against the back of the couch, curling your feet underneath you.

“You’ve got a nice view of the sunset,” Joel says softly.

There’s a distant fear you might never get to see him like this again, and you want to take him in fully before you drag your eyes to see what he’s looking at. Your backyard slopes down into a small patch of woods, the sky opening even wider to let in the aureate light.

“I know,” you agree. “It’s why I spend so much time back here.” The high continues to settle over you, strokes your shoulders, tugs at the corners of your lips.

“Surprised you like things that are so peaceful…being from the city and all…”

“The city is peaceful,” you say, thinking of the leaves swirling from the trees in the fall, and the snowflakes falling onto your family's porch in the winter, melting on the tip of your nose as you lean over the balcony to see the glittering lights below, car horns and engines and sirens piercing the darkness, white noise. “In its own way.”

“You miss it?”

“Everyday,” you say.

“What do you miss the most?”

“Uhm…probably the bagels,” you lie. Well it’s true. But it’s not what you miss the most. You think of your brother, flopping onto your bed on a Saturday night – a rare weekend when you visit home – and you’re trying to read A Tree Grows In Brooklyn for school but he’s begging to take you around the corner to get a milkshake. It’s the image of him you’ve so desperately tried to cling to and the recollections you share with him have only gotten more and more unpleasant as time goes on. “The bagels here suck.”

“Really?” Joel seems amused by that.

“And uh…I don’t know. It’s part of me. I have a lot of friends there, a lot of good memories,” you smile to yourself, lean forward towards him. “I had this apartment before I graduated, right? It had the best view of this little Italian restaurant, and I’d sit and watch people through the windows, eating and talking. I was supposed to be studying, but…it was great. I loved it.”

“What’re you doing here, then?” Joel asks, and you look back at the sunset. Here you are, waxing poetic and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. “You runnin’ from something?” You look over to find he’s staring at you. Like he knows you aren’t being honest, and he’s asking you to stop lying.

So you do the only thing you can think of, which is to ask him a question in response. “What makes you think I am?”

Joel considers this for a moment. “I don’t know. I grew up in Austin. All my friends are here, my family. If I ever moved someplace else….it’d have to be for a good reason. And even if I did, I’d be lonely.”

You stare down at the floor. “Maybe I am.” Lonely? Or running from something? The answer is both, you know, but you’re not going to clarify. “My family. Things are pretty fucked. I thought distance would help, and it does, a little. But….that shit still follows you anyways. They’re always with you, no matter what.”

Joel nods.

“But… I have a life here. When I lived downtown, I definitely did. I don’t mind the quiet, and….I have friends.”

Joel looks at you. “You got a boyfriend, don’t you?”

Why would he think that-oh. You had tried to forget it, the morning he’d caught you still wrapped up in your robe – not the fluffy fleece one you liked the most, but the one you specifically only wore when you had guys over, cause they loved that shit.

“Oh, right,” you say. “Bradley. Yeah, uh. He’s…he’s….not my boyfriend. But…” you shake your head. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I’m sure it ain’t that hard to explain.”

“I mean…” you avoid his eyes. “He’s kind of an asshole, but we’re not really commited to each other in a meaningful way. Plus, he’s not around that much which is kind of perfect…for me.”

“Really?”

“Less to worry about,” you answer, purse your lips. “But…I don’t know. I sorta wish he got my heart rate up a little more.”

“He’s not your type?”

“I don’t really have a type,” you shake your head. “I like what I like.”

Joel rasps. “I feel the same,” and he’s made sure your eyes are on him when he says it.

You swallow, nod, smooth your hair back. “Anyways. Why’re you asking me all this?”

Joel doesn’t seem to find an answer right away. You narrow your eyes at him, studying his face, looking for something that will give him away. It’s a trick you’ve learned…silence…a bit of skepticism. It makes people uncomfortable. And Joel shifts his weight, squirming beneath your gaze. Until something in his face shifts, and he smiles….just a little.

“So that’s where Sarah learned that.”

“Learned what?”

“That look you’re giving me.”

“What look?”

“Like you can see right through me.”

“Can I?” You narrow your eyes further.

“You’re tryin’ to.”

He’d done a good enough job of avoiding your question, and you’re not gonna ask him again, and instead opt for a different one. “So what about you, then?” you poke his knee with your foot.

“Oh, I’m not answerin’’ that.”

“What? I just told you, that’s not fair.”

Joel runs a hand along his jaw, ponders. “Most women don’t want to be with a man who already has a kid so…things on that front are not always easy.”

“I have a hard time believing that. I mean, don’t you have an upcoming date with Sarah’s teacher or something?” you tease.

“That’s not happening,” he assures you. “But….I work so much these days I don’t have the capacity for much. So I get what you mean, sometimes it’s easy to not get emotionally involved but…I’ve never really been great at that.”

“You’re a relationship guy?”

“I mean, Tommy has been pestering me about this lately. Says at this rate, once Sarah’s grown, I’ll end up old and alone. Annoys me to hell, but he’s right. I wouldn’t mind…some kind of companionship. Someone to tell you you’ve done alright at the end of the day.”

“You sound awfully romantic,” you at him blink slowly.

“I can be, when I want to.” Joel rolls his eyes. “But right now…I think I’m just stoned.”

That makes you giggle. So he’s just being honest. “I didn’t really see much great come from settling down when I grew up, so I’ve always been a bit of a pessimist when it comes to love. What you’re saying….it’s a nicer way to think of things.”

You rarely connected with the men you dated. You chose to date douchebags, to date cheaters. It was better that way, to know up front what you were getting yourself into. The best ones didn’t ask for much, just the odd fuck here and there for a couple months, and you’d step away when things were no longer fun, if they evewere to begin with.

Actually getting married, settling down, didn’t feel like a real possibility for you. So you’d never allowed yourself to indulge in what seemed like a fantasy. Some women aren’t meant to be a part of a family. Your father had told you once – during one of few times he’d attempted to comfort you after your mother didn’t call on your birthday – as if it excused his own neglect.

“Yeah, and it hasn’t all been bad. I mean, I’ve had a couple good girlfriends over the years. They were sweet, fun. I enjoyed the time I spent with them, they just…never made it through the real litmus test.”

“Sarah?”

He nods.

“It would be hard, I imagine. For her. Accepting someone new into her life.”

“Yeah.”

“You really care about her,” you say. “About how she feels. It’s nice.”

“I’m doin’ my best.”

The way he talks about Sarah makes you nauseated. It’s something pure, and you can’t help but feel bitterly nostalgic.

“I wish my dad would have been like you.”

It slips out, and you immediately regret it. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten stoned with someone else, and you’ve forgotten your filter. And even though you’ve already divulged more to him about you than you normally would, this feels like too much all of the sudden.

This isn’t something you can backpedal, and before you know it, Joel is leaning towards you. There’s concern written in his features, he wants to comfort, and you thank God for what happens next, or it all would’ve been too much.

His shift in weight causes Martini to jump off his lap and sprint to the door of the porch. He stares at you and then meows.

Even though Joel isn’t touching you, you have to tear yourself away from the hold he’s got you in. ““I gotta let him in, or he’ll get annoyed.”

You move to open the door, and the cat slips inside.

“Is that a guitar in there?” Joel asks, catching a sliver of the gleaming body in the dim light.

“Yeah.”

“You play?” He questions, and you come to sit back on the couch.

“Not anymore. It’s more of a decoration. How about you?”

“A little.”

“A little?”

“A lot.” Joel smiles, looks at the ground like not sure why he’s telling you this. “I actually uh, used to want to be a singer.”

“What?” you ask. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” Joel shakes his head.

“Joel, what?” you put a hand on his arm and lean forward, then look at the guitar.

“Why not?”

“I was…young when I had Sarah. And I had to do something that could actually help us get by.”

“Okay well, you have to play me something, then,” you rise to step inside and retrieve it off the wall.

“No, no-”

“Come on, please?” you ask. “Don’t be a tease.”

Joel just stares as you bring the guitar out to him.

“Although this might be out of tune…” you strum once, and wince at the tinny sound it makes. “Definitely it is.”

“Here,” Joel takes it from you. “I can do it.”

It takes him a moment, but he’s plucking the strings in a way that feels so instinctual, purposeful, you can already tell he knows what he’s doing. Once he’s finished, he strums a few chords, and everything is magically in tune.

“Alright,” you prompt, when he hesitates. “What are you gonna play me?”

“You know any Neil Young?”

“Of course,” you answer.

Joel nods once, looks down at the guitar, and starts playing. You’d recognize the opening chords to anywhere, but he somehow makes them sound even moodier, and bittersweet.

Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say…

He can sing. You’re taken aback. You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s definitely better than that. Deeper, raspier, and now you have new information about him that’s going to bounce around your brain when you’re bored during meetings at work, while you’re lying in bed at night, trying to sleep.

Because I’m still in love with you, I want to see you dance again…

You shift your weight, sling your arm over the back of the couch, and rest your chin on your hand. Suddenly, you’re feeling a little tired. He’s all-but putting you to sleep and, somehow, that feels like the highest compliment you can give. It could be because you’re stoned, but you feel warm all over. You close your eyes, just listen, until he’s finished.

Even after he’s finished, you keep your eyes closed, settling. Until you feel something graze against the back of your hand. Joel’s. He’s matching your own pose, facing you, but reaching out…

“That was nice,” you say, earnestly. You’re good.”

Joel smiles bashfully, tugs your hand from beneath your chin and pinches your index finger between two of his own. Your nails are painted a glittery purple, and Joel studies them. Sarah had painted them earlier this week when she’d hung out after school, and had picked out the color.

“So are you,” he shifts closer.

He’s not quite close enough to kiss you himself. But it’s enough…he’s just giving you the chance to lean in, to close the gap. The proximity makes you dizzy, and you’re a little overwhelmed. It’s too much. It’d be too much. You can’t. You’re afraid of what he might do to you.

“We should be good, then,” Gazing at him from under your lashes, you pull back just enough. It’s not a rejection, and you can tell he doesn’t see it that way either. There’s a mutual understanding, you’re on the same page, but you aren’t quite sure what it is. The warmth of Joel’s hand leaves yours, and a part of you is filled with regret.

And then, like it never happened, the two of you spend another hour talking. He’s engaged, intuitive, thoughtful, funny. By the time he excuses himself, long after the sun has fully dipped below the horizon, you feel like he’s an old friend. An old friend you want…badly, but, you know him on a level you hadn’t before.

“Gotta be up tomorrow for a soccer game, otherwise I’d stick around,” Joel says as you’re guiding him to the front door.

“It’s alright,” you say. “You’re welcome to do this anytime.”

“You sure?” he tilts his head, leaning against the doorframe on his way out. “You might regret offerin’ that….”

“I won’t.”

part iv

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cherrycola27 · 2 years

Text

Lavender Haze

Paring: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N "Haze" Gardner

Warnings: Language, Drinking, Mentions of men being stupid, Harassment, Hangman being Hangman.

When Jake Seresin met Y/N "Haze" Gardner when he returned back to Texas after the Uranium Plant mission, he was sure of three things.

1. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

2. She was a damn good pilot.

And

3. He was going to marry her.

Haze was unlike other women. She didn't fawn over him. In fact she made it very clear from day one that while on the outside she was a southern belle, she was all business and you didn't want to get on her bad side.

Jake tried everything to wear her down to get her to go out with him, but nothing worked. She didn't fall for his pick up lines. His thousand watt smile didn't wow her and she would barely acknowledge his existence, until one faithful evening he will never forget.

"Shit." Hangman cursed as he jiggled the knob to his barracks room. "Fuck! Christ this can't be happening right now." He groaned as he attempted to open the door.

Jake had just returned from the showers and was all set to enjoy his Friday evening in, however his door had other plans.

Somehow he had managed to lock himself out of his room. Which wouldn't have been so bad, but Jake had neglected to bring his sleep clothes with him, so that meant he was currently standing out in the hallway with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Damn, shit, motherfucker!" He cursed again.

"You kiss your mama with that mouth Hangnail?" He heard from behind him. He knew exactly who it was speaking to him before he turned around. There was only one person on base who called him Hangnail...

"As a matter of fact I sure do Haze." He retorted turning around and crossing his arms.

Haze chuckled before her eyes quickly raked over his bare torso.

"See something you like?" Jake teased her.

"No, I just see some idiot who's managed to lock himself out of his room. Bless your heart Hangnail." Haze laughed at him.

"I thought you were supposed to be the best of the best mister I have two confirmed kills. Figured you would pay better attention than that, but I guess it's hard to do that when you are too focused on carrying around your big ass head all day." She continued loving every minute of it.

Jake sighed. "Look Haze if you're just going to stand there and insult me, I don't have time for it. Some of us have bigger problems and don't have time to trade jabs all night." He stated while hitting the door with his shoulder.

Haze could have gone back into her room and left him in the hall, but for some unknown reason she decided to help him.

"Oh dear Lord. Move!" She huffed pushing him aside. Haze reached in her pocket and pulled out her ID. She slipped it in-between the door frame and where the latch should be and gave it a wiggle.

"Ah ha!" She cried victoriously when the door opened.

Hangman stood back at her amazed. "Where did you learn to do that?" He asked her "Used to get locked out a lot back in the Academy." She shrugged.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it." He smiled at her.

"You're welcome Hangnail." She grinned back at him before turning to go back to her room.

"Hey Haze!" He called out to her.

"Yeah?" She asked. "How about I take you out for a drink tomorrow night? As a thank you." Hangman asked her hopefully.

She thought for a moment before answering "Fine, pick me up at my room at 7:30. Don't be late!" She called to him before walking down the hall.

Jake made sure she was out of sight before cheering to himself.

The next evening he had knocked on her door at exactly 7:30 and he was met with the most amazing sight.

Haze had curled her hair and adorned some makeup. She wore a simple lavender top with denim shorts and sandals. She looked very different from her normal self, but Jake wasn't complaining.

Their definitely not a date but still a date, date was going incredibly well. They had spent hours at the bar talking and telling stories.

Haze and Jake had both finished their drinks when she volunteered to go get them another round while Jake when to the restroom.

She waited paitently at the bar for the bartender's attention. It had been a good five or so minutes but she wasn't in a rush. She sighed to herself and leaned closer to the bar, and then she felt it.

The hand on her ass.

She turned half expecting it to be Jake, but it wasn't. It was some dickweed with a shit eating grin on his face.

"You've got some nice assets darlin'" He smiled at her.

"Yeah and they aren't for you, so I suggest you take your hand off of me before I take it off for you." He sneered back at him.

You would have thought the man would have listened but instead he gripped harder. And laughed.

If looks could have killed he would have been dead. Haze took a deep breath before grabbing the man's fingers and prying them off of her body. He yelped in pain.

"I told you I would do it for you now didn't I?" She asked him coldly. "I don't appreciate assholes like you thinking they can do whatever they want. You weren't very nice sir. I suggest you apologize to me or else." She stated.

"Or else what?" He asked cocking his head to the side. That was definitely not the response he should have given.

"Or else this!" Haze said before breaking three of his fingers. The snapping sound they made was music to her ears.

"Crazy bitch!" The man called before pushing through the crowd to get away from her. Everyone around her stood there in shock with their jaws hanging open.

No one was more shocked or amazed though than Jake who had seen everything happen when he returned from the bathroom.

She walked back over to their table with a sheepish grin on her face. "Sorry about that." She apologized before setting two beers down

"Please have my childern." Jake responded.

"What?" Haze asked unsure if she had really heard him correctly.

"I'm serious woman, have my babies because that—that was—damn." He tried to explain to her.

"Maybe we should have a second date before we talk about kids." She laughed.

And so they did have a second date, and a third, and six months later Jake proposed to her. Six months after that they were married in a small ceremony on his family ranch. Coyote being the only member of the Dagger Squad to know about it because he was the best man.

And now after six months of marriage, eighteen months after the Uranium mission, the Navy had final approved the Dagger to permanently come back and stay and be based out of Top Gun. If they team wasn't flying a mission, they would be instructors. Hangman even secured a position for his wife after disclosing his nuptials to Maverick and Cyclone, but no one else.

He and Haze had bought a house in California and moved in. It had been a month since the Daggers had been called back and everyone was meeting tonight at the Hard Deck to celebrate since Payback had finally made it back to San Diego.

Hangman was chomping at the bit to get there because no one from the squad aside from Coyote new about Haze and he couldn't wait for them to meet her.

"What if they don't like me?" Haze asked as she finished getting ready. "Honey, they are going to love you. I just hope they don't scare you away from me with some of their stories about me." Jake said kissing her head.

"Babe, I know you were a different person before we met. But you aren't him anymore. I love you past and all." She smiled at him.

Haze was nervous on the drive over but she put on a smile and laced her hand with her husband's as they walked in. The bar was packed but Jake was able to spot the crew over by the pool tables.

He and Hazed weaved through the crowd before being greated by cheers and hugs.

"Hey everyone, it's good to see you again. There's someone I would like you to meet." Jake began when he noticed the groups eyes drifting towards Haze.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the is Lieutenant Comander Y/N "Haze" Seresin... my wife." He said proudly.

The group went silent. Rooster choked on his beer, Bob dropped his cup of peanuts and Phoenix looked like you could have knocked her over with a feather.

"I'm sorry did you say WIFE?!" Rooster finally spoke.

"He did." Haze replied holding up her left hand showing off her rings.

"You've got to be kidding me. Man did you pay her to prank us?" Payback asked.

"No, I'm serious we are married." Jake defended.

"Is this a mail order bride type of situation. Are you in trouble honey? Blink twice if you need help." Phoenix asked her.

"No, it's a we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together situation. Jesus yall can't you just be happy for us like Coyote was at the wedding?!" Jake huffed.

Suddenly all eyes turned to Javy who had been quietly standing in the corner.

"Coyote... you KNEW Bagman got married and didn't tell us... you were at his wedding?" Phoenix asked in disbelief.

"He made me promise not to say anything! And I wasn't just at the wedding, I was the best man!" Javy defended himself.

After the initial shock wore off, everyone seemed to take a liking to Haze, how couldn't they? She was sweet, funny, and played a killer game of pool.

The only downside to the night is several of the Daggers brought up tidbits of Jake's past. Both of them brushed it off and tried to have a good time.

As the night came to a close Haze invited everyone over to their home the next night for dinner.

She spent all day getting ready. Being a woman from the south, cooking and hosting dinner parties was taken very seriously. She spent the day whipping up her famous chicken casserole that Jake loved. She also made macaroni, green beans, and fresh mashed potatoes to go with it. And to top it all off her famous lemon pound cake for dessert.

When everything was finished she had just enough time to go upstairs and change into the simple pale purple dress she had chosen for the evening.

Everything seemed to be going well when dinner started. Jake's friends raved about the food as they talked about their escapades over the past eighteen mouths. Haze and Jake were enjoying themselves until Hangman's past once again became the topic of conversation.

She tried to stay calm, she really did, and she almost made it to dessert but Rooster had said something that caused everyone to laugh while Jake turned a deep red, and that did it for her.

"Enough!" Haze screamed as her freshly manicured lavender nails balled up into a fist and slammed against the table hard enough to make the silverware rattle.

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Jake gave her thigh a squeeze and tried to grab her shoulder as she stood up but she brushed him off.

All eyes were on her waiting to see what she would say.

"I know Jake was a different person before we met and before we got married. I get that he was an asshole with commitment issues. I get that he was a manwhore and a giant tool. He still is." She began

"Hey!" Jake shot a look at her.

"Nothing but love for you babe I swear." Haze said patting his shoulder.

"My point is I've heard it all, and I don't care! And I am so sick and tired of yall, his so called friends making it the only topic of conversation! You are telling me anything I don't know." She stated.

"So if you guys can't respect me or him enough to find other things to talk about, you are never welcome in our home again. Understood?" Haze all but growled at them.

The members of the Dagger Squad mumbled in agreement

"I said is that understood?!" Haze yelled back at them.

"Yes Ma'am!" They replied in unison.

"Good. Now I spent a considerable amount of time making a fresh lemon pound cake for dessert and if any of you want a piece of it, I suggest that in the amount of time it takes me to go into the kitchen and get it and come back, all of you have sincerely apologized to my husband. Are we clear about that?" She explained.

"Yes Ma'am." They all nodded in agreement.

"Wonderful." Haze said as she smoothed down the front of her light purple dress and turned for the kitchen.

One by one the members of the Dagger crew apologized to Hangman for their behavior. When it became Bob's turn he apologized for not speaking up against the others and being a bystander. He finished his apology by saying "She's a little scary Hangman, but I like her."

Jake laughed at his comment. "You think that's scary? You haven't seen scary." He told them.

Just as they finished up their apologies she returned with cake and served everyone a slice.

The friends silently ate before Bob asked.

"Hangman, you never told us how you two met."

"Oh, that's a good story. We were stationed together in Texas when I went back and I tried for weeks to get her to go out with me. It finally took me accidently locking myself out if my room in nothing but a towel and her helping me break in to get her to agree to go out with me." Jake began explaining as the crew laughed at his misfortune.

"Our first date was at this Honky Tonk and I just wooed her with my good looks and charm, and the rest is history." He finished.

"Honey you and I both know that's not how it went." Haze corrected him.

"Well, how did it go Haze?" Phoenix asked.

"I went to get us another round while Jake went to the bathroom. While I was waiting some guy grabbed my ass. I pried his hand off of me and demanded he apologize." Haze began explaining.

"And well... he decided not too." She continued.

"And then what Hangman laid him out cold or something?" Rooster asked.

"Nope." Haze grinned. "I broke his hand."

"Damn girl. Respect" Coyote responded leaning over the table to high five her.

"What was your reaction to that Hangman?" Payback asked now invested in the story.

A blush spread across his face. "Go on babe, tell them what you said." Haze teased him.

"I... I don't remember." Hangman mumbled under his breath.

"Oh don't get shy on me now Lieutenant!" Haze playfully pushed his shoulder. "He looked at me and said 'please have my children'"

The table howled with laughter.

As the night drew to a close everyone seemed happy for Jake and Haze.

Once they had left and everything had been cleaned up the Seresin's changed into some comfy clothes and settled on the couch.

"I love you honey." Jake said as Haze leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I love you too Jakey." She smiled back before kissing him.

"Baby." Haze said sitting up on the couch turning her body to face him.

"Yeah honey?" Jake asked looking at her.

"Remember how you asked me to be the mother of your children on our first date?" She asked with a smile on her face.

"I recall saying something of that nature... why?" Jake asked more confused than ever.

"Well I sure hope you meant it because..." Haze trailed off before showing Jake a positive pregnancy test.

"Are you serious... like for real?" He asked as tears formed at the corner of his eyes.

"I'm serious babe. You got your wish." Haze told him holding back her own tears.

"I love you. God I love you." Jake smiled before pulling her into a crushing hug.

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme

#top gun maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fic #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #lt. jake seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #midnights #lavender haze

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jawritter · 1 year

Text

Something About Fate...

Chapter 4

Summary: Y/N has been homeless and living on the streets of Dallas, Texas since the start of Covid. Until one day, a handsome, green eyes strange notices her and turns her whole world upside down.

Warning: Change, even good change, can be scary, and even a little hard...

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader (eventually).

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This series is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! This series will contain mature content eventually, and therefore is unsuitable for persons under 18 years of age! Anyone under the age of 18 will be blocked for my blog! Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoy this series!

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Y/N and Jensen had been trapped in the hotel room in Dallas for three days and three nights. In that time period, Y/N had learned a few things about the mysterious actor. First, he didn’t act like any rich guy she’d EVER encountered, whether that be while she was still living on the street, or while she was a working-class citizen.

He was mostly a quiet person, but somehow, it seemed easy to just BE with the man, and not feel the need to be pressured into a conversation. He was perfectly content to sit next to her on the bed or couch, and just watch whatever was on TV.

TV. That was a whole new topic all together. Having been living on the streets for so long, and only seeing any form of news or goings on in the world around her from the passing magazine stand, or outdoor advertisement, she didn’t realize just HOW behind on things as she was, but more on that later.

When they were talking, he was the tentative, focused, and open person she’d ever met. Which shocked the hell out of her.

She didn’t realize this about herself either, but she had forgotten how to converse with people. She forgot how to hold a casual conversation with someone. She had no idea how that had happened, but it had. It took a lot of silent, long stretches of Jensen probing her a little to attempt to get to know her, but finally, she figured it out, and when she did, it took an immense effort on her part to actively not shut down every time Jensen asked her a question. She had to almost convince herself it was okay to talk to him, and that he wasn’t out to hurt her, like so many other had been in the past before she could get herself to open up to him, but she was glad she, because she like the person she found herself with, even if she still didn’t really recognize herself yet. She really had lost herself along the way…

Jensen was also very patient with her; something she’d ever experienced with ANY man, rich and famous or not. Never once did he get irritated with her. Even when he had to press her a little to figure out if she was hungry, or to convince her to allow him to pay for food. He didn’t get irritated when he ordered her a cell phone, and handed it to her, only to quickly learn she knew nothing about phones anymore, and he had to basically teach her how to use one. He never complained when she had to learn how to work the keycard for the room, or maybe spent too much time in the bath. He never even raised his voice at her, not once.

She’d only spent three years on the street, but trying to take a step back into society, she felt like she’d been out for decades. So much had changed in just three years it wasn’t even funny. She felt like she’d never catch up, and never be normal again. If there was really such a thing as ‘normal’ anyway. Jensen said there wasn’t. He was probably the most understanding person she’d ever met in her life.

She couldn’t for the life of her understand how the man was still single, though, he did tell her that he was married at one point, and had three kids with the woman, but they had just grown apart in the latter part of their marriage, and they were better as co parents than an actual married couple. It made her wonder if there were some things Jensen was hiding, some issues or flaws she was too blindsided by the things going on around her to see, but so far, he’d given no hint to anything being gravely wrong.

“Have you ever flown before?” Jensen questioned, bringing her out of her head with a slight jump when he spoke as he zipped the bag of clothing up in front of him, and placed it onto the floor next to the bed.

They were getting ready to fly out to California in a few hours, which would give her a little glimpse of his life outside of this room, and that made her incredibly nervous.

“I have, but it’s been years,” she admitted. “Somewhere around the age of ten I think, and I don’t really remember it.”

Jensen nodded as he looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was barely four in the morning, and they were already about to head down to the Uber that was going to take them to the airport. She was no idiot. She’d heard him talking to his friends, and they were flying out so early to spare her the gawking fans asking questions as to who she was, and why she was flying with Jensen, when he usually flew alone.

She wanted to confront him, ask him why, if he was ashamed of her or something, but she didn't. She kept her peace. For one, she was lucky he didn’t just fuck her like she thought he was going to, slit her throat, and throw her in a dumpster to rot somewhere. So she wasn’t going to question his methods right now.

“It will be fine,” Jensen continued as he tossed not only his bag over his shoulder, but also the small bag of things that Felicia had collected for her and brought to the room. Literally, all she owned right now to her name, fit in a gym bag. The sad part about this was it was already more than she’d had in years. “It’s a super early flight, and it’s first class. I wouldn’t be surprised if we are the only ones in first class this morning, we can probably catch some sleep before we land.”

Y/N nodded, knowing damn good and well sleep wasn’t something that was going to happen for her. Maybe him, but not her. She wasn’t even nervous about flying until he brought it up… damn him.

“Will your friends be flying with us?” she questioned as she followed him down the completely vacant hallway, and to the elevator that would take them downstairs.

“Na, Jared’s just going back to Austin, so he and Clif are just gonna drive, and Felicia has a later flight out to New York. Something about a project she has to get ready for, but honestly I was so tired when she was talking to me about it I wasn’t really listening,” he revealed with a chuckle as they stepped inside the elevator, and the large metal doors close behind them, leaving behind the kinda, sorta HOME she’d known for the last three day, in well, three years…

“Once we get to LA and get to the Air B&B, we can go shopping for a few things you're gonna need to actually do the job I’ve got you hired for; a laptop, pick up your iPad, things like that. I’m not filming or anything, but I wanted to spend some time In LA before we have to gear up for the next con.”

Jensen continued to ramble about LA as they made their way through the mostly empty lobby towards the black SUV that awaited the pair outside that would take them to the airport, and Y/N’s heart seemed to pick up speed as a heavy weight settled in her chest.

This was real… This was happening…

She’d never not left Dallas since she was a child. She never imagined herself living anywhere else. Now, he’s about to literally take her away from the only place she’d ever known, drag her all the way to LA, then once they were done there to Rome, then Toronto, then finally, when all that was done, possible New Mexico if they get renewed for a fourth season, before they could finally go back to Texas. Only God knew what would come up between them. It was surreal…

“Hey,” Jensen said, taking her hand in his own and pulling her out of the sudden fog she’d fallen into, and back to reality where he stood in front of her with the car door open, waiting for her to slide inside. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded as her eyes suddenly started to sting, but she shoved it down, WAY down, and when he fell asleep on the plane, she’d cry then. She’d mourn the future she thought she’d have, that clearly she never was meant to have here in Dallas. She’d mourn the life she should have had, but now had to leave behind. She’d mourn it, and she’d leave it right there in the air, miles and miles above the past she was leaving behind.

Not all of her memories from Dallas were bad ones, there were some good mixed in there too, but not enough to hold her here, not enough to make her stay. There had been plenty of warning from the Universe that it was time to move on. Some sort of higher power had sent Jensen her way that fateful day, or she was certain she would have frozen to death. This is the path she was meant to take, but that didn’t make things any less hard, or scary for that matter.

Jensen watched her closely as she slid herself into the backseat, and took a deep breath as she watched him close the door with a tightlipped smile on his face. It was almost as if he knew how hard this was for her, but wouldn’t say anything out loud, not that she even wanted him too. Some things, even though you have someone sitting right next to you, you just have to walk through all by yourself.

“Hey, if you need some time, if this feels like we’re moving around way too fast, just tell me. I can move some things around and give us more downtime. I don’t mind. I want you to be okay, that’s my main concern,” Jensen offered as the Uber driver took off towards the airport, and Y/N watched out of the frosty window at the dim light of the morning as it stretched it’s arms just over the top of tall buildings, still casting their own light over the streets of Dallas, the streets that she’d once called home.

“No, it’s okay,” she assured him, not even taking her eyes off of the window as the familiar sights rolled by. Like the park she’d slept on the benches of so many nights, or the little sandwich shop she’d met Jensen at. All these familiar things, and yet, they all seemed so far away now. To which she was grateful, even if she was a little dumb struck in the moment. “I’ll be okay.”

Jensen reached over the small space between the pair of them, grabbing her hand in his to catch her attention away from the past that was now zooming by her so fast she could only see a cold blur, to focus on the more important future that was sitting right next to her.

She’d be a liar if she said her heart didn’t skip a beat every time he touched her in any way, and that was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. She couldn’t go catching feelings and fucking this up, she just couldn’t let herself do it.

“It’s gonna get easier, I promise,” Jensen said, and she could only nod at him, and look down at the floorboard, a lump the size of Texas suddenly invading her throat and cutting off her ability to speak.

“I got something for you while you were asleep this morning,” Jensen offered, letting go of her hand to reach into his pocket and she stared back at him in confusion.

“While I was asleep? We’ve been up since 4AM! Did you sleep at all?!” she questioned, and he chuckled as he pulled a small, silver set of keys from his pocket. One looked like a house key, and the other was very clearly a car key.

“Na, not really, I guess I don’t sleep much anymore. But that’s not important,” he blew her off, as she examined the small set of keys in her hand. “One of those is the key to our house in Austin, where you will be staying with me, and the other is to one of the cars in the garage that you can use. No sense in being stuck at home while we’re there if you want to get out because you have to wait for me to get home to go somewhere.”

“Jensen!” She breathed, looking back up at him in utter shock as the car pulled up to the airport.

“Hey, I don’t want an argument about it,” he teased, clearly amused at the shocked look on her face. “If you’re gonna be my assistant, then you’re gonna have to be able to get around for me sometimes, and besides, I want you to have some independence.”

“But… Jensen… I don’t even have a driver’s license anymore! It’s been three years since I’ve driven! What if I can’t even drive anymore?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured her for what seemed like a thousand times that morning. “It’s just like riding a bike. Not something you tend to forget how to do, and I can fix the license thing once we get back to Austin. You’re gonna be fine sweetheart, just trust me.”

Y/N swallowed hard and followed suit as Jensen made to step out of the car at the airport, and began to retrieve their bags from the back of the SUV.

She did trust him, she didn’t understand why, but she did. That didn’t mean she trusted herself though, that was the problem.

Forever:

@britnwinchester

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe

@jensenslady79

@spnwoman

@stoneyggirl2

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@stixnstripesworld

@fullwattpadmusictree

@nancymcl

@christycreature

@whiskey-infused-dreams

@supernatural79impala

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@slamminmine

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@i-love-superhero-movies

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@thecreatiivecorner

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@flamencodiva

@itmejado

@thoughts-and-funnies

@teresa-67

@hearteyes-j2

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

@vulgar-library

@writercole

@fairlyspnfanfic

@sexyvixen7

@spngi

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@donnaintx

@maliburenee

@the-family-business67

@agirlwithdemonblood

@captainsoldiergirl

@twinkleinadiamondsky

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma

@impalaslytherin

@perpetualabsurdity

@msmarvelouswinchester

@akshi8278

@love-jackles

@irmcpar

@pink-sparkly-witch

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

@herstarburststories

@mimaria420

@deanwinchesterswitch

@charred-angelwings

@pascal-rascal424

@myloversgone

@fortheloveof-jackles

@eevvvaa

@bts-spnlvr12

@jxackles

@lassie-bird

@samsgirl93

@shawnie74

@kaz11283

@mlovesstories

@ladysparks78

@sarahgracej

SAF tag list

@itsdesiree86

@evilunicorns4minions

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld

@thefemalestorywriter

@tapedeck-hearts

@tristanrosspada-ackles

@southerngal96

@mavisiceroo

#sometihng about fate #jensen ackles #real person fiction #rpf #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen x y/n #x reader inserts #jawritter

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sstardustt3 · 2 months

Text

-akira kurusu (joker) headcannons-

First of all, THEATER KID.

You simply can not tell me that he is not an overdramatic theater kid who does the most at all times, especially when he was a kid.

But this led him to be seen as “odd” and outcasted by the people around him in the which made him extremely lonely, he wasn’t bullied but he didn’t have any friends

Because of this he kinda closed himself off to fit more into the societal norms and not be seen as strange which is why he’s so quiet and keeps to himself all the time

Which made him partially excited to go to shibuya because despite it being a pretty shitty situation, being on probation and arrested for something that wasn’t even his fault, he thought that maybe in the big city he’ll find some people that won’t think he’s weird and can open up to which he ended up getting with the thieves but his hope was only temporarily diminished with his record being leaked

Holy fuck that was long but, moving on, I think he has a very poor relationship with his parents, especially after being convicted of assault.

I don’t think his parents hate him by any means but they’re definitely neglectful based on the fact joker doesn’t get a single call, text, or a letter from them

What i personally think is that his parents are the type of parents to do the bare minimum and do nothing else for him

In a sense his parents sort of gave up on him because of his “eccentric” behavior and him getting arrested might have solififed that for that for them and even if not they’re definitely not on his side when it comes to the whole assault thing which could be why they never contact him

Okay the last two were pretty angsty but moving on,

He has like, zero experience with girls and he’s the most oblivious mf ever

And because he wasn’t really popular at his old school (for the aforementioned reasons) he got ZERO bitches, none, cero.

This is actually another headcanon that i really don’t have an explanation for but when he moved way more girls started liking him because of people thinking he was this bad boy and he had NO idea how to deal with that

Like for a while he just thought people were just being weirdly nice to him

Like he is the type of guy who unintentionally flirty like just natural charisma with looks

Like you have to be insanely obvious for him to even take a hint

Adding onto the headcanon that you have to be insanely obvious to get him to notice that you like him, once he does realize that you like him like one of two things is going to happen:

One, if your not that close than he has no idea what to do about that and he’s just slightly more awkward than usual

But two, if you are that close, he is BOLD. despite he is not knowing how to flirt for shit he is still charming enough that his horrible attempts at flirting and teasing somehow work

Because he has no cannon birthday other than the year he is born (2000) my personal thought is that he’s born on valentines day, there’s no elaboration for this one just a gut feeling

I feel like he has a vivid imagination of scenarios

Like for example he can imagine an entire plot for a musical at three am and exactly how it would go

Morgana and sojiro have frequently told him to shut up and go to bed

Also he has insomnia. I just felt like I should throw that into there.

Him, sojiro, and futaba have movie nights once a weekend and ninety percent of the time it’ll be a horror, old movies, or a studio ghibli movie

Texas chainsaw massacre, kill bill, sadako vs kayako, jacobs ladder, don’t look up, my neighbor totoro, spirted away, sailor moon r, ponyo, etc

60 precent of the time futaba picks the movie

I have no explanation for this one but him in the metaverse is very much christian borle coded in a way i can’t explain i swear (please i beg of you listen to hard to be a bard from something rotten its so good)

#headcanon #headcanons #joker persona 5 #persona 5 joker #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #p5 joker #christian borle #theater kid

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blood-injections · 1 year

Text

Came across my sort of headcanon masterdoc for how BLI was started that I all wrote down because I have an au in my drafts that deals with the creation of BLI and the killjoys and danger days universe if the Fab Four were there since the very beginning and how they went from normal teenagers to rebels fighting a war and. holy SHIT guys this shit is genius and I totally forgot about it all. Anyway figured I’d finally post some of it.

As we all know, canon information on the formation of Better Living and how the country became a postapocalyptic, irradiated dead zone is… scarce to say the least. We know that there were the Helium/Atomic wars but don’t know if those are separate wars or two names for the same thing. We know that the great fires happened in 2012 and that they were a possible cause for the rise of Better Living. We know the pig bomb was dropped in 2017 thanks to a Cherri Cola tweet and if I remember correctly it was dropped in Texas(literally can’t remember if that’s canon or part of my shit) and probably related to the wars, which apparently took place not long before the music videos. We know that the further out into the zones you go the more radiation there is and that as of 2019 the zones get acid rain. And we also know that Australia somehow just up and disappeared which is by far the most eldritch canon detail about the dd universe.

But that’s it.

So I have built upon the breadcrumbs of canon and just sweeped some under the rug and done quite the feat of worldbuilding to explain how BLI and the killjoys came to be.

In my mind it all starts in 2012, but it’s probably been in the works for decades. There were conspiracy theories of corrupt governments and secret societies but nobody knew the true extend of it. One second the country was running as normal, the next the government was taken down by people in its own ranks, people that have lied their way to the top and were secretly working together just to take over. In a day the country falls, America attacks itself. Communications are cut off along with everything else that society needs to function. Power is shut off nationwide, satellites are disabled, missiles(non nuclear) shoot into the air just to turn around and attack the very land they hailed from. From the ashes of America rise the corrupt individuals that made it all happen, with the woman that’ll become known as the director at the helm of it all. They form a new government and try to round up the survivors, intent on creating a utopia from the rubble.

I have no idea what’s going on with other countries if they help or if this new government attacked any other countries or just its own or if a world war is essentially started I just figure since canon didn’t touch on it and nobody else ever does I won’t either. Use your imagination I guess.

But it’s 2012, the country is in shambles, the biggest cities have fallen, smoke covers the land. The great fires of 2012 start not a week after the demolition of the USA, beginning as fires from burning cities that cause surrounding land to catch light and later on, its deliberate napalm to shape the path of the fires and drive people out of their shelters, using the destructive powers of Mother Nature to literally herd survivors to certain areas of the country.

The great fires quickly lead to the start of the Helium/Atomic wars, which are two names for what’s the same fight, but different sections of it. The helium wars come first, a rebellion to the new government was quickly formed by what remained of uncorrupt military and control over weapons are essentially split between the two sides. An all out war breaks out and the sides start off evenly matched, the numbers of those loyal to the new government and those remaining images of what fell fairly well matched.

A month after civilization falls the new government drops the first nuke on New York City already demolished by the first missiles, its now doomed to be a nuclear wasteland as well. It seems like this would be called the atomic war, with the use of atomic bombs, but it’s not. This is the true start of the helium war, for it seems both sides are suddenly eyeing the precious resource, for who has control over its production might very well come out on top of this fight, for helium is used in everything from medical technology to space exploration and national defense. It’s used for welding and in rocket fuel and nuclear reactors and yes, nuclear weapons. And it’s already a finite resource, non renewable and already said to be running out. And now in this ruined country there’s more of a demand for it then ever. And guess what? The United States is the biggest producer of helium worldwide, with the largest helium deposit located in Texas.

It’s unclear which side drops the second nuke, but what matters is that it falls smack dab on top of that deposit. It seems desperate times call for desperate measures and the desperate measures were to wipe out the source of advancement for the war completely. It becomes known as the pig bomb.

The fight goes on for two years during which the new government builds ‘safe zones,’ aka walled cities for survivors to head to, just to get trapped in and made to work. The rebellion is diminishing and unfortunately the enemy is winning. Then the third and final nuke is dropped, once again by the new government. It’s discovered that the rebellion was actually the side to drop the pig bomb, but it did pay a crucial blow to the enemy and helium remains scarcer than ever, meaning they must limit what the manufacture and how they build.

The third nuke is dropped northeast of the pig bomb, around Wyoming , and the sick thing is it doesn’t do that much. The country there is already burned flat so it wipes out a good chunk of the rebellion that was hiding in the Midwest but other than that all it does is drive the last of the survivors to the far west, where the ruins of LA and the biggest of the safe zones resides. The placement of the nukes really locks off this to-be battery city and the zones, trapping them in a big irradiated box.

At this point numbers in both sides have dwindled and fighting has died off, not to a standstill, but the last bomb marks the official end of the helium wars as the last survivors trickle into the LA safe zone and the surviving rebels hide just outside it, in the fairly untouched desert and ghost towns that litter the borders. Supplies on both sides are running low and this quiet period of rebuilding and recollecting becomes known as the dust bowl.

The west is pretty much uninhabitable aside from this chunk of land and the rest if the country is all burnt up and cut off and the northeast is a no-go zone to radiation and in fact the entire east coast has essentially fallen into a nuclear winter, fucked up from the trade winds carrying over the radiation and ash clouds from the pig bomb and the great fires and even after two years they sky never seems to clear. The entire eastern half of the united states is a wasteland of dust storms, acid rain, pockets of radiation, and thanks to permanently altered weather patterns due to rapid Atlantic climate change from all the ash and radiation clogging the atmosphere, that means the coast is under attack from a constant barrage of deadly cyclones, meaning even if it wasn’t irradiated, living there is impossible due to the monthly high winds and flooding and all the horrible things cooking up in that ocean.

For anyone that didn’t make it to the LA safe zone, still stuck in survivable pockets of the country in the Midwest or even in the deadly east, none of them are going to last long for sure. Anyone that didn’t head west while they could has to watch out for whoever is left there with them, scrounging for resources. Looting gangs and desperate madmen roam these states and they won’t show mercy. It’s kill or be killed beyond the wall of radiation that now separates the far west from the rest of the country.

That quiet time known as the dust bowl passes slowly and at some point the LA safe zone becomes known as Battery City and the safe areas around it and the small bit of the west coast not ravaged by radiation or fires become known as the zones, numbered one through seven by how risky they are to inhabit, one being the safest, just beyond the city walls, and seven being the most dangerous, with the highest levels of radiation. They’re not perfect circles like the canon maps, since there some small dead pockets of radiation and stretches of ash land(fire ravaged areas) that are deemed inhabitable. The zones are also much larger than canon, stretching out into the edge of Arizona and maybe even Utah and Nevada.

All levels of the zones are desert wastelands, but go north and that’s the ash lands, the giant stretches of land burnt through by the great fires. The fires took months to die out and some are still burning, but the empty areas on the edge of the north zones are a true wasteland, the soil contaminated by the vast amounts of ash that coated it and if you drive through it you just kick it all up, then you can’t get out of your car or you can hardly breathe. Step onto that dead land and it’s completely barren, it feels like another world. Nothing grows, not a sprout is to be seen, just the vast dark, dead, soil. As time passes and the zones get a culture, they say that’s where you go to die, they say it’s filled with ghosts.

But back to Battery city, it’s 2016, the dust bowl period is coming to an end and each side has been rebuilding. The city is shinier then ever and the new government, now calling themselves Better Living Industries, is putting all their resources into medical experiments and technological improvements, working on robots and AI and mind altering medication. With each passing month the citizens seem to become more sated and meanwhile in the desert, the rebels are having some improvements of their own. After the last bomb fell and everyone headed to the zones and the rebellion survivors found each other, they had to spend time figuring out how to survive while avoiding the city and whatever was happening within, but now it’s been a couple years of recuperation, and the rebellion has been planning. They’ve heard of the experiments Better Living has been doing and what’s going on with the citizens and they’ve decided it’s time to stop just surviving and start fighting again, and this marks the start of the Analog Wars, a much smaller scale fight, free of missiles and bombs, it’s just one side against the other with mainly handheld weapons. It’s named for the rebellions reliance on analog equipment like radios and other older devices since there’s no normal communications or electronics available. They use things like morse code and secret messages to communicate via the airwaves and this is where Doctor Death Defying gets his big role. He was a marine turned Helium War survivor and veteran, losing his legs in the fight, and now he may not be able to be on the front lines but he mans the radio and somehow always stays positive, spreading news and hope through the zones. He coins the term Killjoys for the rebellion and this is the time when the zones culture starts blossoming, with Doctor Death coming up with most of the slang, originating as unique code words to let rebels what’s going on and where without BLI figuring out what they’re talking about, and the young folks somehow taking the lead in the fight instead of the few veterans that remain. They’re not trained soldiers, just people fighting for what’s right, and that’s what makes them dangerous. The rebellion gets their hands on some of BLIs weapons, the laser guns, making their fight more equal. The Fab Four pop up around this time and they inspire people across the zones, a team of four friends that found each other in the apocalypse, they’re still pretty much kids but now they’re leading the fight against BLI. They remember how life used to be but as the years pass and they really become soldiers, they start to forget, until all they know is the desert and a life that’s a cycle of violence and hope, life as killjoys.

When 2019 comes around and the events of the music videos may or may not happen, it’s still technically the Analog War but the term isn’t really used anymore, since it’s just life for everyone at this point, having weekly skirmishes with BLI goons, which start turning up as dracs and scarecrows instead of just soldiers in 2017.

But it’s 2019, we’re all caught up, it’s life in the zones as we know it, and that’s all I have for you today.

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Part 20

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 19 🍂 Part 21

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, There's like a half-explicit description of a blowjob.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae has made it so that I now owe up until 25! Homegirl just keeps on keeping on. But we're getting there... Fun stuff coming up! Enjoy!

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

“Woman, that car of yours is gonna be the death of me!” Tough luck, though, you told him, because you weren’t going through the process of getting another car. Besides, he was the one who had picked that one.

“What’s wrong with it, though?” You asked as you looked around the counter. “Grab me the peas from the freezer, would you?”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it,” Sy growled, “it’s just too small for normal people.” He held the bag of frozen peas to his forehead while he walked over to you. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit his head trying to get into your car, and you were fairly sure it wouldn’t be the last. Served him right, though, because you were somehow training your splits every time you had to get into that ridiculous truck of his.

“Didn’t feel like getting off your step?” he teased as he handed you the bag of peas. The two of you had a love-hate relationship with the way he teased you about your height. And by that you meant that you hated that he loved it, and he loved that you hated it.

“If I got down from here, I wouldn’t be able to do this,” you said before you kissed him on the head. “Besides, it’s not as if you qualify as ‘normal people’, you’re a giant.” Not back home in the Netherlands, though, he wasn’t even on the tall side of average there. But he didn’t need to know that. Sy didn’t have a fragile ego, but you were fairly sure it could be bruised, and calling him small in any capacity was probably the way to go at it if you wanted that to happen.

“Car’s fixed,” he just said, not wanting to get into that argument again. He wouldn’t want to risk overusing the ‘everything’s bigger in Texas’ line he loved so much.

“Thank you, honey,” you said sweetly, “what do I owe my favorite mechanic?”

“You ain’t ever gonna owe me nothin’, Sugar.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck gently before moving his mouth up to your ear. “But I’ll gladly take donations in the form of some quality time with you on your knees.” You looked at the dinner you were making. It had another 25 minutes of oven time in its future… You ordered Sy to toss the dish back in the oven, and he happily obliged. If you hadn’t asked him, he would have insisted: He didn’t like it when you had to get off your step stools you had stowed away in every corner of the house while holding hot things, heavy things, or any other kinds of things.

When he stood back up after doing what you asked, he grinned; you were already on your knees and eagerly undoing his belt. His own suggestion hadn’t left him cold, but there was room for improvement, you judged as you wrapped your fingers around him and gave him a few strokes. He looked down, which created the perfect opportunity for you to give him that look that always drove him crazy. It was simple – eyes wide, biting your lip – but effective, and you chuckled when you felt him grow harder in your hand.

“I coulda waited but I ain’t comp- fuck!” He gave up on trying to speak when your tongue hit the tip of his cock, and didn’t seem to regain the ability after that. You relished the swears and moans that Sy let out, and you laughed when he took a step back to lean against the kitchen table after a few minutes. The hand on the back of your head didn’t put any pressure on you, but you had to admit it was very nice to feel Sy’s fingers in your hair.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me,” he groaned, and from the way he said it you could tell he was close. Now, how terrible would it have been if you both had a friend with a knack for walking in at precisely the wrong time…

“Well, I guess we’re square.” Jules. “I’ll give you guys a minute. To clean up, not to finish.”

“Kind o’ ya,” Sy said through gritted teeth. He turned to you when she was gone – after quickly sorting himself out. “Darlin’, you alright?” You shook your head. You were absolutely mortified by what had happened. How was Jules so casual about the whole thing?

“She ain’t seen anything, Sugar,” he tried to calm you down, but it didn’t work. You cleaned off and dove into Sy’s arms.

“Lara, Sy, everyone decent?” Jules asked from outside the kitchen. Sy begrudgingly answered her question. “I’m sorry, I should have knocked.” This was why you kept her around; yes, she was a handful and could be downright abrasive at times, but she was kind and generous and she didn’t hesitate to admit it when she was wrong.

“I forgot you guys were coming early, I’m sorry.”

“I’m fairly sure Jules won’t judge us for doing whatever we want with each other in our kitchen,” Sy said. There was clearly still some residual anger left in him from that fateful day Sy got kicked out of Jules’ and Patrick’s house.

“After what I said to you? Couldn’t possibly get pissed about it, now could I?” And that’s when the three of you started laughing.

“What do you mean ‘the engagement party is here’?” Sy yelled, scaring Jules and you – and even Pat, though he probably wouldn’t admit it. “Why did no one think to tell me? It can’t be here!”

“Why not, Sy?” “I live here, Sugar. That thing we said weeks ago? About those two –“ He pointed at Jules and Patrick. “- living in sin? That’s us now. Alright and them, but…”

“Come on, your parents can’t be that bad,” you said, but you saw Jules’ terrified look and immediately knew how wrong you were about that.

“Not that bad, but I’m tellin’ ya, Sugar, they ain’t gon’ like it. And my grandparents will have a heart attack.”

“But we don’t need to tell them you live here,” Jules tried carefully, “and your grandparents aren’t coming. They’re coming out for the wedding, though.”

“Half the stuff in that livin’ room is mine, Jules.” He had a very good point there.

“Big reaction back there,” you said after you’d sent Jules and Pat home. Sy had escaped to the bedroom and didn’t look like he was going to come out any time soon. “You scared me a little. What’s going on?” There had to be more to it than he was telling you.

“Jules,” he said to your surprise. “Somehow always gets to have it both ways. I love her to bits, don’t get me wrong, but… they’ll get to be the happy engaged couple, nobody needs to know they’re livin’ together, and I’m goin’ to get a bunch of shit from mom.”

“Is it really going to be that bad?”

“I can hear ma already,” he grinned. “’Johnathan George Syverson, I raised you better than to go around livin’ with a woman you have no intention of marryin.’” He paused for a moment after he said it, and then abruptly turned to you. “Not that I don’t… Y’know what, Sugar, I’m just goin’ to shut up.” The face he made while he said it had you in stitches.

“Sy! You’re being ridiculous,” you said, but he gave you a look.

“Am I? You weren’t raised by them, darlin’.” His tone was almost mocking.

“Is there any way we can pretend we’re just roommates?”

“Won’t go over any better,” he sighed, “and I’d also be lyin’ to ‘em. ‘N I don’t wanna introduce you as ‘just a friend’, Sugar. Did that once. Never again.”

#syverson x ofc #syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson fluff #cpt syverson #syverson fic #henry cavill characters #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill

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hetchdrive · 4 months

Note

SLEEPOVER SATURDAY YAYYYY I have 2.

1. Because I’m still stuck in fucking Texas, top 3 best US states

2. Top potential AU’s for The Terror

Oh noooooo wishing you a speedy departure tomorrow!

I've lived a lot of places and done a lot of road tripping and without further details on which to define "best" I'm going to go with the three states I feel the most personal connection to and say Wisconsin, Minnesota, Michigan. I love Lake Superior, I grew up in that area and sometimes I am very homesick for it. I've been trying to develop the same feeling of connection to the landscape in New England since transplanting and I'm not going to lie, it is rough going. I keep saying I am going to try to get into hiking and rock identification so I can see the mountains and maybe 2024 is the year I buckle down and do that.

First off: Star Trek AU obviously. I'm really bad at coming up with plots and writing long fics but I am beginning to take notes for a Star Trek AU in case the Terror SciFi Fest happens again this upcoming May.

Secondly: Ghosts/spiritualism/haunted house AU. While I do enjoy a good modern AU from time to time, to me part of the draw of The Terror is the time period it is set. I am fascinated by the Victorian era, the advances in medicine during the time period, the rise in popularity of ghosts and ghost stories, and I think I'd get a lot of enjoyment out of researching to write an AU that takes advantage of this somehow.

Also, I am obsessed with haunted houses as they are used to represent familial trauma, codependence, grief and loneliness, etc etc, and I think it would be fun to take Crozier out of The Horrors only to put him into a different flavor of The Horrors <3

Lastly: Musicians/orchestra AU. Gonna be honest, I do not have any of the requisite knowledge to write this and it does not interest me enough to do this research. I want somebody else to write this so I can read it. However, I saw a post once that was the show writer going through and saying what each character's job would be if they lived in the modern day and what he said about Fitzjames was that he'd be a surgeon or somebody else with very specialized knowledge, someone who is the best at something. And while yeah, a specialist surgeon is this, and specialist surgeons are, in my experience, divas with complexes, for reasons of personal taste (dislike of the medical field irl and preference for show contemporary AUs over modern ones) I think it would be more interesting to just skip over the medical layer and make Fitzjames a diva with a complex.

This man plays the violin and he is the best at it and he and Crozier cannot stand each other because Crozier has been playing longer, does not care about the limelight, and actively scorns Fitzjames for doing so. I just have this idea in my head of Fitzjames saying to someone else that Crozier plays a perfectly serviceable, workmanlike violin, but he obviously doesn't truly care for it, he doesn't play with any passion, and Fitzjames who has been doing this his whole life and made it his whole life, the only thing he's ever been good at that he's had to hang all his hopes on, finds that intolerable. Meanwhile Crozier cares about the violin very deeply but doesn't really show it to anybody and keeps to himself because loving music and loving your coworkers are two different things.

Additional inspiration for this idea is the fact that when Phantom of the Opera shut down on Broadway a couple months ago (last year? What is the passage of time...) I saw a news article about it which said some of the people in the orchestra had been playing the show together since it started running in 1986. The drama within that pit must have been insane and I desperately want to read about it.

#this got away from me #clandestinegardenias #asks

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green-socks · 1 year

Text

In the Most Unexpected Places

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Javy 'Coyote' Machado (aka floychado)

Summary: The unexpected place is Texas. After the mission, Coyote and Bob hadn't thought they'd be seeing each other until after the month long leave they'd been granted. However, finding themselves in the same place (again), they start spending more time together. Just as friends, right?

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: none really.

Notes: I read a couple of hangster fics with Bob/Coyote as a background pairing (most notably Barnes_Brain's Sliding into Home series on ao3) and promptly lost my mind. Needed to make it happen more. Thank you to @wyn-n-tonic for letting me bounce inital ideas and answering my questions that I kept badgering you with from the couch. And thank you to my dear cheerleader @a-reader-and-a-writer for betaing, offering support, and coming up with the title! Couldn't have done it without you bby<3

MASTERLIST

(I know it's Bob's story too but Coyote gets the gif this time, sorry Bobby bby)

"Bob? Is that you??"

Bob whipped around hearing his callsign, not having expected anyone to recognize him in a grocery store in Deer Park, Texas.

"Coyote? Hey, man, wh-what're you doing here?" Bob asked, smiling as the other man pulled him into a quick hug. The greeting was warmer than Bob would have expected, but he was very pleased with it nonetheless. It was good to see Coyote, and perhaps the other man felt the same. It had been less than a week since they had last seen each other on base, but somehow it felt longer, the change of scenery making Bob lose track of time a little bit.

"I should be asking you that! I live here. But I thought you were from somewhere.. not Texas?" Coyote said, scrunching up his face trying to recall if Bob had ever mentioned where he was from.

Bob had not, and now he realized that neither had Coyote, actually. They'd had more important things to focus on in the last three weeks, he supposed.

"Yeah, I'm, uhm, I grew up in Wyoming, but my mom is from here actually. We're here visiting my grandparents for my leave," he explained. "I'm just realizing I never even asked where you were from. I just assumed somewhere in Texas maybe, but at least I know now," Bob chuckled, giving an awkward half-grin that he hoped conveyed that he was sorry for not making more of an effort to get to know the pilot.

"I'm sorry I never asked you either. Guess we never really got there, huh?" Coyote shrugged.

"Robby? Where did you disappear?"

Bob heard his mom calling after him just before she appeared at the end of the aisle behind Coyote's back.

"Robby?" Coyote mouthed at him, and Bob felt himself flush a little.

"Believe it or not, I'm not actually Bob to these people," he smirked to Coyote, before turning to his mom.

"Sorry, Mom, I ran into a friend. This is Javy Machado. Coyote, this is my mom, Michelle," Bob made the introductions.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am. I had no idea Bob had family here, I was surprised to see him just now."

"Oh yes, I grew up here in Deer Park," she smiled warmly at the two. "Machado? I think there was a Machado on my brother's football team in high school," Michelle mused, mostly to herself.

"Could've been my dad, or one of my uncles. They all played."

"What a fun coincidence that Robby knows someone from here too! Are you in the Navy as well?"

"Yes, ma'am, a pilot. We met just recently."

Bob tried to keep his mom from worrying too much, so he appreciated that Coyote didn't mention their most recent mission in more detail. Bob would talk about his work with his family as best he could, but he knew his mom worried a lot, and he felt better keeping the rougher details of his job from her. Mentioning the mission now would just dig it up again.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, dear," Michelle said to Coyote. "Maybe we'll run into each other again while we're here! Robby, we should run now, your Pop will be waiting."

"Yeah, of course. Uhm, I'll—" Bob turned to Coyote, not really knowing what to say.

"We'll see each other in like twenty minutes in the group chat anyway, right?" Coyote grinned. "Go, man, don't leave your Pop waitin'."

"Right. See ya around!"

"See ya, Robby," Coyote winked.

Bob shook his head, laughing, and turned to hurry after his mom.

Coyote was right. They did see each other (figuratively speaking) later that afternoon in the 🗡️SKWAD group chat Fanboy had set up to keep in touch during leave, and they told everyone how they happened to be vacationing in the same place. Most of them were kind of jealous that the two of them could hang out even during leave, what with the codependency already forming within the group, which made Bob realize that maybe he should do something to utilize that possibility.

He'd just never spent time alone together with Coyote, and while there was nothing wrong with the other man, Bob wasn't even sure Coyote (or Hangman, since they were often a package deal) liked him enough to hang out alone with him. Bob knew that the first impressions on all sides had long since faded, but he still didn't know if there was any basis for a deeper connection between him and the pilot, so he didn't make any moves on it.

However, after a couple of days passed, Bob found himself needing the company of someone who knew about the mission to be able to decompress from.. everything. He thought about calling Phoenix again, but then he remembered that he could also hit up Coyote and ask if he wanted to hang out for a bit. Sure, they hadn't really had a longer conversation together outside of the time they were at the hospital with Phoenix after the bird strike incident, but Bob remembered finding Coyote's presence comforting then. He had shut his eyes and just listened to the two pilots talking, and that had helped him ground himself.

Gathering his courage, Bob shot Coyote a message.

Bob: Hey. Would you want to hang out for a bit? Feeling like getting away from the family for a couple of hours.

Coyote: hey man, sure thing. i can come pick you up if you send me the address

And that's how Bob ended up in the passenger seat of the pilot's truck, not really knowing where they were going, but feeling calmer already.

Javy looked over at Bob who had his eyes closed. After settling into the car, Bob had asked him if he could turn the radio just a little quieter, and then shut his eyes. Not to sleep, Javy knew, but to recenter himself, it seemed.

"Did you have anything specific in mind?" Javy asked, turning left to drive through quieter roads.

"Nah. Just... If you don't mind, just driving around for a while sounds perfect. I can pay for the gas," Bob responded, eyes still closed, but head turned in Javy's direction.

"You're good, Bob, don't worry about that." Javy glanced at the quiet man next to him again. "Everything okay with your family?"

"Oh, yeah, it's not that. Everything's good with them." Bob opened his eyes finally, and continued speaking, "It's just that the mission is still so fresh, and it's not like I can really talk to them about it all. And you know I like to have my quiet time. With a house full of noisy relatives that's not so easy. I could take a walk or something – that's what I usually do when I need a moment – but…"

"But you needed to see someone who gets it?" Javy guessed. "Yeah, I feel that."

Bob just hummed in agreement.

"If you want to talk about it, you can. I know it was even more intense for you."

"Thanks, Coyote. I appreciate you doing this. Honestly, this is helping a lot already," Bob said, and Javy looked at his face for a sign that the other man was brushing off the issue just to be polite or something. But he only found the honest earnestness that he was used to from the WSO, so Javy let it drop.

Instead, Javy just kept a running commentary of all the places they were driving past, telling Bob random stories about his teenage years, driving the routes he'd been driving back then. His passenger seemed content to just sit there and listen, his face finally relaxing fully.

Javy found himself glancing at Bob often while he drove. The man was a mystery to him. At first glance, Javy thought he'd had the quiet, unassuming man all figured out, but now he knew that not to be true. In fact, it seemed like every day the WSO surprised him in some way. For example, Javy never would have guessed the way Bob dressed in civvies – snug, faded jeans, and equally well-loved band shirts or comfy hoodies seemed to be his go-to outfit. He even wore a hat. Javy hadn't thought of Bob as a hat person for some reason.

It was when Bob started yawning that Javy realized it was getting kind of late, so he made his way back to Bob's grandparents' house to drop him off. They didn't talk much on the way back, but that was okay. It didn't feel like they needed to fill the silence with anything. Coyote was used to more high-energy hangouts with his other friends but found that he didn't mind this either. It was probably good for him too.

When they rolled to a stop at the house, Bob turned to him once more as he was getting out of the truck. "Seriously, thank you for doing this. I know I wasn't much of a company, but this was good for me. Your voice calms me down." Bob added that last bit quietly, as if to himself, and Javy was stunned into silence, watching the WSO walk back inside.

Javy ignored the warm feeling building in his chest and headed back home.

The next morning, Bob was surprised to get a text from Coyote, asking him to hang out again. Not that Bob thought Coyote suddenly hated him after last night or anything, but he also didn't feel like he had been the most entertaining companion by a mile.

Coyote: hey again. there's this art museum i've been wanting to check out but my family isn't really into that sort of thing. would you wanna come with me? it's a bit of a drive but if you don't mind. you seem like a guy who would like museums???

Bob: I do like museums. Yeah, I'd be happy to go with you! When do you wanna go?

Coyote: can you be ready to go in an hour? i can pick you up again

Bob: Sounds good👍🏻

Once again, Bob hadn't quite known what to expect, but they ended up having a great time at the art museum. They both agreed that it could be difficult sometimes to find a person to go to museums with since some people will go through them too fast and others too slow, the vibes not matching, or just not sharing the same interests. But Bob and Coyote were perfectly matched in their museum behaviors, keeping just the right pace (according to them) and sharing interests in a way where they were often pulled to the same pieces but could also find some individual interests. And they had fun looking through the gift shops too.

"Like Hangman? Love the guy to death, but he does not have the patience for this, if you can believe that," Coyote joked when they were exiting the museum.

Bob laughed. "Yes, I somehow can believe that."

Coyote got quiet for a moment.

"Speaking of him, or us, I don't think I ever apologized to you about how our first meeting went. We were kind of dicks to you that first night," Coyote grimaced.

Bob stopped short and blinked, surprised. "I honestly didn't feel any need for an apology there, but I appreciate it anyway. Besides, I'm kind of used to people dismissing me at first glance, it's just how it is," he shrugged.

Coyote frowned like he wanted to argue something, but Bob continued before he had the chance. "And to be fair, I kind of pegged you and Hangman as like the pretty divas from high school, you know? So it's not like we don't all make some snap judgments sometimes," Bob offered with a small grin.

Coyote looked at him surprised for a moment before a wide smirk split his face. "You think we're pretty, do you?"

Bob rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, you two do not need me to tell you that," he chuckled.

"Eh, well, we like hearing it anyway," Coyote laughed.

(Javy didn't tell Bob that he thought the WSO was quite pretty too, actually.)

They found themselves hanging out nearly every day for the next three weeks.

The pair of them visited a few more museums since that was sort of their thing now, but mostly they hung out in the late evenings when their families were already retiring for the night. That way they didn't need to feel bad about ditching the people they got to see far too rarely. They would drive somewhere, grab a snack and eat it on the hood of the truck while parked at some parking lot, a park, or some other quieter place.

But they still found some activities to do as well. They found a fun outside putt-putt course, went to see a couple of late-night movie showings, and had a very fun night at an arcade where a table hockey game got intensely competitive, and Javy showed off his frankly unbelievable skills on a dance mat. Bob dragged Javy to bowling one night, where he got to show off his skills in turn, having done a lot of bowling with his cousin growing up.

Bob did surprise even himself by noticing a want to prioritize hanging out with Javy while also still getting family time. Where did all this social battery come from all of a sudden? Bob couldn't remember ever having this much energy to meet someone even after spending the whole day with family members. He chalked it up to Javy's comforting presence making everything feel easier. There was also the fact that – probably thanks to the circumstances of the dagger mission – there was absolutely zero need to pretend or put on a front between them. They could be candid with each other, which eased Bob's nerves a great deal too. Instead, it was all.. easy.

One evening toward the end of his stay in Texas, Bob heard his Meemaw chattering away excitedly about Robby's new friend to his Pop as they were getting ready for bed. Which promptly made Bob choke on his evening tea, because friend spoken like that was Grandma Speak for boyfriend. Javy had come in for coffee earlier that day, at the insistence of his Meemaw, who was now telling Pop "what a charming, handsome young man that Machado boy was" and how "they looked so sweet together". "No wonder Robby's been spendin' so much time with him. New sweethearts like that can't stand to stay apart," Meemaw sighed.

Bob took a lot after his Pop, both in looks and character, meaning that preferring to stay quiet and letting others talk was his Pop's trademark that Bob had somehow inherited. Which was why it was all the more surprising to hear Pop join in with a grunt, "I agree. He seemed like a smart kid. It's good for Robert."

On the one hand, Bob was glad to hear his grandparents clearly had no issue with him supposedly dating a man, but on the other hand he was still reeling from them even thinking he and Javy were together. That was absurd, right? They were just friends. They acted with each other like they did with all of their other friends, there was nothing special about their situation, right? Meemaw was just being a meemaw again.

Deep down, Bob knew the answer to that, just like he knew how pleased it made him to hear that his family apparently thought he and Javy were a couple. He just wasn't quite ready to admit it to himself yet.

"...we are now boarding passengers who require extra assistance as well as any active duty military," came the announcement over the PA, and Bob got up. There was only one other person heading to the gate just ahead of him, and—

"Javy?"

Javy whipped around in a perfect parallel of their first meeting here in Texas almost a month ago.

"I thought you weren't gonna fly back?" Bob asked, wondering if he had somehow summoned the man before him by thinking about him too much all morning (and the night before). It hadn't helped that his Meemaw had been asking him to bring "that lovely friend of yours" for another visit as he had hugged her goodbye.

Before the pilot could answer, the person working the counter interrupted them.

"Since you two gentlemen are our only active duty passengers on this flight, we have upgraded your seats to first class, free of charge, as a thank you for your service," the lady smiled at them, handing them their new boarding passes.

"Oh, uhm, thank you very much, ma'am," Bob stammered.

He never expected (or wanted) any special treatment just because he was Navy, but knew that it would cause only more extra hassle for the workers if he refused the upgrade, so he just thanked them and walked in after Javy. Besides, he couldn't lie that the extra leg room wasn't welcome, even if the flight was only three and a half hours.

He caught up with Javy.

"Yeah, so, I thought you were supposed to have that boys' trip with Hangman and drive back together. What happened?"

Javy snorted. "The fucker went back a few days ago already. Said he had things to do."

"Things like Rooster?" Bob guessed.

"Mmhmm."

Bob snorted too. "Guess that wasn't too surprising."

"Yeah, I don't know why I expected anything else," Javy grumbled, but his voice held a clear fondness for his best friend. "But now I get to travel with you, so it all worked out," he winked.

"Oh, our seats are together," Bob said, in a higher voice than he'd have liked. That was a lot of proximity with a man he only just realized he has feelings for. No big deal. This was fine.

"Not tired of me, are you, Bobby?"

"No! No, not at all! I didn–"

It was then he saw that Javy was smiling mischievously.

"Rude," he harrumphed, blushing, and poked Javy in the chest in retaliation as he moved past the slightly shorter man to sit on the window seat.

Javy snickered as he sat down, and then they fell silent as other passengers started trickling on board.

Bob was feeling slightly panicked. For some reason, now that he had realized he had a crush on the man sitting next to him, it was suddenly hard to know how to act around him. Bob groaned at himself internally. Why did he have to make it difficult now after weeks of easy conversation? A week ago he could just be with Javy, easy as anything, and now all of a sudden he was silently freaking out about the fact that their hands were nearly touching on the armrests. Get a grip, Floyd.

Ever since their late-night discussion about ex-partners two days ago, and Bob had found out that Javy dated men as well as women, it seemed like some sort of dam in his brain had broken. Suddenly he could think of the pilot as a real possibility, and let all sorts of thoughts run free that he had kept buried to the best of his ability thus far. Thoughts that one generally did not have about people one called friends.

Well, if he was being honest with himself, those thoughts had been there for weeks now. He distinctly remembered having a thought or two that day at beach football. (And they called him smart. Bob mentally shook his head at himself). Even so, he had never entertained the thoughts further, and instead kept them very carefully locked up in a box, only escaping when he wasn't concentrating – which he tried to keep to a minimum. But now he found it very nearly impossible to contain them at all.

"You okay there?" Javy asked, his soft voice sounding both a little confused and worried.

Perhaps Bob's internal freakout wasn't as internal as he'd thought.

"'M fine," he croaked, which obviously didn't sound reassuring at all.

"Are you nervous about flying commercial?" Javy tried.

"No, not at all. I'm a backseater, I'm used to not piloting myself," Bob shrugged.

"Oh. Cause I just thought, if you were, I'd have offered to hold your hand."

Sirens screamed in Bob's head as he stared at Javy's hand propped invitingly on the armrest. Too many different possibilities for why the pilot was doing this raced his mind all at once.

"Are- Are you nervous?" was what he settled on.

"Would you hold my hand if I was?"

Javy's expression was carefully blank, and Bob swallowed thickly.

"Of course, if you wanted that," Bob replied.

"Then yes, I'm nervous," Javy nodded. "Awfully nervous," he repeated, nudging Bob's hand with his own.

The sirens in his head screamed even louder. Was this flirting?? Was Javy really flirting with him? Was that what was happening? Why would he want to hold Bob's hand when he obviously wasn't actually nervous?

"O-okay," Bob stuttered, and took Javy's hand in his own.

It was surprisingly soft despite the calluses from flying a jet. Holding Javy's hand like this felt simply electrifying, and Bob felt himself getting warm all over. He risked a glance at the pilot next to him, and saw that Javy was looking at their joined hands with a small, satisfied smile on his handsome face.

They didn't talk for a long while after that. The flight took off, leveled out, seatbelt signs went off, drinks were served, and all the while they kept holding hands. It seemed that by some unspoken agreement they weren't going to talk about whatever this was on a plane surrounded by people, but instead kept up reassuring squeezes of their joined hands or stroked their thumbs over the other's knuckles. Javy lifting their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to Bob's knuckles at the very least washed away the last of his nerves, replacing them with a pleasant fluttering in his belly. He would demand a proper talk once they landed, but for now his brain calmed down, trusting that he needn't have freaked out over liking Javy after all.

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

tagsies (once again probably not what you signed up for lol so feel free to ignore!): @writeforfandoms @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @marvelousmermaid @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @callsign-phoenix @hederasgarden @lt-natrace @yespolkadotkitty @luckyladycreator2 @alexxavicry @blue-aconite @writercole

#bob x coyote #robert bob floyd #javy coyote machado #floychado #top gun fic #top gun: maverick #i still don't know what i'm doing #i accidentally wrote something #top gun brainrot

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organicfirewood · 1 month

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The Tortured Poet's Department (Katie's Version)

basically i'm liveblogging this as i listen. talking into the void; this is more for me to reflect back onto than a genuine critique of the album.

Most excited for: "Florida!!!" "Down Bad" & "WALOL?"

I'm hoping that this album will sonically resemble folklore and evermore... more acoustic, stripped-back, and raw. I'm still wondering about the "✌️" imagery and how that'll play into the album... maybe feeling two-faced or double-crossed?

Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) - ok... rehab. uh oh. swifties have been calling her a drunk for a while... but nobody ever took it seriously. this must be about a rebound... i don't want to say MH. ugh i loooove how this sounds. like a more sober midnights. no pun intended... sorry. post malone was honestly such a genius move for this song- his voice sounds very youthful paired with hers... hopeful.

2. The Tortured Poets Department - YESSS 80's into!!! god i love this instrumental so far. (I use a typewriter!!!) holy fuck nooooo this has the charlie puth lyric. more wedding references.

3. My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - ok. that charlie puth lyric left a bad taste in my mouth im trying to recover. i like that her vocal tone is a little darker here- would lower register apply for this? "he only runs because he loves me" real af i get you, queen. love that we've graduated to only having sandcastles instead of fortresses. these lyrics are also very ex-best-friend-coded... im projecting.

4. Down Bad - funkyyy okay. aww dun-dun-dun-dun! i wonder what mr kelce thought of all of this... oh, to be a fly on every single wall. yeah i like this one a lot. somehow also very 1989(tv ftv) coded. this sounds like denial into anger if we're still talking about the stages of grief. "like i lost my twin" is like "twin fire signs." i think she keeps seeing herself in her partners and feels abandoned when things don't work out.

5. So Long, London - ok intro eatssss down! this sounds like a driving-on-the-highway-song. i like how "talky" this is. it's very theatrical. this gives the sense that they (taylor and whoever this may be about) may have bonded over their sadness and the other party got upset when she started to heal. also, another reference to altars, but that may strictly be a religious metaphor.

6. But Daddy I Love Him - the intros are great. love the acoustic sounds. i really like this one a lot... this is a lot more whimsical and could almost fit on a Speak Now-style record. yeah, this is fantastic. such a quintessential Taylor Swift song. i'm terrified of how literally people (millennials on tiktok) are going to take this.

7. Fresh Out The Slammer - YUHHHH these intros!! ugh god i love a western motif. this is beautiful. this might be my favorite so far. i can't help but wonder what "time" she did. rehab, like previously alluded to? a rebound? a tortuous relationship? the period in a public career where one is constantly criticized and scrutinized? another ring mention.

8. Florida!!! (feat. Florence + The Machine) - huh. weed and babies. awesome! i agree, florida is one hell of a drug. "cheating husband..." uhokok. ok yes swamp imagery! yes southern/florida gothic! what shitstorm happened in texas? taylor please eliminate the urban sprawl in florida it'll give you more room to bury bodies!! pleaseee.

9. Guilty as Sin? - again. great intros. uh oh. is it just me, or does this sound like a 1975 song?? i like the production regardless. "we've already done it in my head" again real af. this song is real af. this is like limerence... these lyrics are kinda pushing the envelope, no? for taylor's standards, anyway.

10. Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? - another western-esque motif. we are scared of you taylor, i promise. contained scandal... oh? is this the cheating allegation??? this bridge was legitimately chilling. her reputation era was only a scratch on the surface. i think she needs a legitimate full-blown villain era (as a treat). i'm scared for track 13.

11. I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - moooore western motifs. yuh okay i like this one. more texas. what happened in texas? did anything happen in texas or is it just a placeholder? the vocals on this one are like velvet. "GOOD BOY"???? and the references to angels??? please. please. thank you, taylor.

12. loml - sigh. im not ready for this one. "better safe than starry-eyed" is a fabulous lyric. i can't wait to see that on fan merch everywhere. another reference to marriage. this is very reminiscent of "you're losing me." more rings and cradles. christ. loss of my life! loml.

13. I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - im not ready i dont think. the intro, again, is great. sounds like setting up the tour. i hope that this album was therapeutic for her. yesss i love this one actually. i love when artists do the sarcastic happy-sad trope. taylor, please know that 90% of the eras tour crowds was and is sympathetic; we were only cheering for you, not for what you do. yes key change! yes i love this one!

14. The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - jehovah's witnesses mentioned. just wanting to know why is so incredibly valid and a universal truth, i think. this one left me with a pit in my stomach.

15. The Alchemy - chemicals... hospitals... i hope she writes an autobiography one day. touchdown! so this is a travis-era song? i like the sound design of this one.

16. Clara Bow - nooo im not ready. stevie nicks reference!! :) i don't think she's exactly regretting her fame, but certainly re-evaluating it here. we (media, society, swifties) need to leave her alone, please.

I hope that the creation of this album was cathartic for her; it feels intensely personal. I don't like speculating about her life, yet so many of these songs are extremely context-dependent. Most of all, I hope that she gets the healing she needs. She's such an important figure for so many people; more people want the best for her than don't. It's been very clear for a while that she's been suffering. Everyone breaks at some point... I keep seeing The Tower in my mind.

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ts11 #katie's pages

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donnerpartyofone · 6 months

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Wow, I just saw where you put the comma in your user name. It's even funnier now.

I never thought of it as Donner, Party of One as a table reservation. Announced in an officious tone.

I pictured it as donnerparty OF ONE. Meaning there is only one person in the Donner Party. As in, you are all alone in the cold woods eating yourself. LOL.

Hahaha obviously this is the username that keeps on giving! It's interesting how people react to it. I don't remember how long ago I came up with it but I'm sure I was feeling VERY clever, it would be many years before I learned that Robin Williams made the same joke in some standup routine, and he probably wasn't the first person to think of it either. I once applied for a job where the person who interviewed me vigorously insisted that I got it from the movie SCREAM, and I'm sure that joke is nowhere to be found in any installment of SCREAM but she was so passionate about her assumption for some reason, I didn't fight her on it too hard; in retrospect I chose the irrational belief that that was an omen that that was going to be a really hard, shitty, low-paying job.

My conscious interest in cannibalism emerged during my first semester at college, where it became clear that I had been interested in cannibalism all along but had never really connected the dots. It seemed to be the most frightening and compelling thing I could think of. When I was a kid I had a copy of Silence of the Lambs that I carried around like it was the Bible, reading it over and over. I had intensely vivid nightmares about THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE for years before I would ever see the movie, my brain just seemed to know it would become a big part of my life. RAVENOUS came out right before I went to college and when I got there I made a cult out of it; I was watching it at-least-daily in the dorm lounge, which at first people hated, then some people started to join me, then after we came back from Thanksgiving I learned that a lot of people went home and showed it to their families! And then it seemed to happen that whenever I picked the movie, it would involve cannibalism unpredictably--none of us were Shakespeare-literate enough to know it would be in TITUS, and when it randomly came up in DEAD MAN everyone turned around and looked at me like I must have known, like I tricked them. There were other examples that aren't coming to me. At some point it just sort of became my identity. I used to have a couple of fork & knife clothing patches that I painted and wore on various things.

I just think it's interesting, like it has lots of allegorical possibilities. I'm mainly attracted to it as a description of extreme anti-sociality. Like in TEXAS CHAIN SAW, you have a nuclear family in the American heartland, but instead of a heterogeneous unit that makes more people, you have a clan that is somehow only males and they consume people. (I mean there's a mother theoretically but she's literally a mummy, which I think is pointed) I'm interested in that kind of unhealthy system inversion. But people react to it all kinds of different ways, it's curious. I recently contacted this woman who wrote a horror-related paper I loved and she replied that she'd be happy to talk to me about anything "except cannibalism :)". I said this elsewhere but when I arrived at this book launch I had to host last week, the author told me "You know you're doing something right if people are offended!" and explained that when the event was publicized with my bio attached, which listed some of my academic interests, some guy emailed him "THERE IS NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT CANNIBALISM!" and cc'd a bunch of different people like it was an emergency; I mean considering what else was in my bio, I guess he thinks I find murder and sexual exploitation "funny" too, but none of that stuff bothered him. After the event someone waited patiently to tell me about his favorite metal band that only plays songs about serial killers, including some prominent cannibals, and I had to promise I would listen to it. Whatever you think about it, it's a very provocative topic, and I guess it's good that people are still sensitive enough to have a strong reaction!

#what's going on in the hannibal fandom is NOT provocative though #just turning everything into sex is too easy #most people are casually turning everything into sex all day long like it seems to be harder NOT to

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39oa · 7 months

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Talk Hockey To Me

tagged by beloved @txstars T__T <3 thank uuu as always

1. The thing that got you hooked on hockey

it's hard to pinpoint one moment because i honestly genuinely believe that it's the best sport in the world just in terms of pure mechanics and objective viewing enjoyment and live crowd atmosphere so it's easy to get hooked once you actually watch it... i've been on and off with hockey fandom itself and took a few years away from tumblr until recently but i'd say it was a mix of just watching games + discovering fandom spaces on tumblr/reading fic on ao3 + having a decent home team at the time + canadian tax etc.

2. Your first ever fandom friend

ngl i think most of the people i first met in hockey fandom eventually moved onto bts (or k-pop in general) lmfaooo but i met @regularseason when i was in 11th grade making connor mcdavid gifsets and now i am somehow 25 years old. we have seen so much on this vast internet together ❤️

3. The jersey you would most like to own

MOOTERUS BROS RISE UP ☝️🐮 absolutely my favorite jersey of all time i genuinely don't think any other design comes close. i also really love the stars rr 2.0 but i finally bit the bullet and bought it so that's out... another top contender would be sabres goathead 🐐 and maybe mighty ducks era pkariya, also i think the sharks rr 2.0 with the spin on the seals logo is sooo cute and i love the og sharks logo designed by terry smith as well... specifically the classic late 90s teal jersey. and my fav regular home jersey of current teams is the kraken :')

i have way too many opinions on jerseys honestly. if i could pick some from my warmup jersey database then i lovelovelove the habs 2023 bhm and pride designs (i have apparel for both of these...), the leafs indigenous celebration design, and the kraken women in hockey design. gorgeous girls!!!!!

4. YOUR player (you only get ONE so choose wisely)

:saluting_face: there is only one guy for me... jr21! (real talk like a big part of why i got into the stars and came back to sports tumblr was because of him despite having 0 geographical ties to texas LOL. admittedly there was some superficiality involved at first in seeing an asian guy achieve top-line star status against the restrictive pains of bones hockey but then i was like oh your game is actually efficient and understated as hell? and it kind of spiraled out from there. my favorite deceptively abnormal "boring" guy!!!)

5. A pairing that deserves more fic

i will echo 2124 💚 but i am part of the problem for having 4 partial aus in one doc and not actually writing anything of substance for them... otherwise there are a ton of rarepairs i could argue in favor of but i feel like i'd sound insane. where is the otter/woll boston goaliefic... where is mitch/nrob with robo being vaguely horrified but trying to be supportive of his brother's poor decision making skills. where is my sabresfic and kidsline shenanigans in general......... also if we're going back to the stars then 2141 honestly have so much untapped potential wrt Why Are You Both So Weird Can You Please [Redacted] About It. but you get the gist i'm sure!!!

6. Your favourite on-ice moment

my memory does NOT go that far back. whatever is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to some guy i hate is good enough for me

THEN

link someone else's art/fic/etc that you love & think everyone should check out

immediately the first thing that came to mind is that i still think zoe's 2129 primer is one of the most fantastic and comprehensive labors of love this fandom has ever seen... truly one of the major backbones of starsblr. honestly despite hockey fandom not being quite what it used to be on here i think there are sooo so many great creators making stars content and i am immensely grateful to all the gifmakers + artists + writers who constantly feed me no matter what time of year it is!!! i'm kind of shy but you know who you are... TT__TT

AND

link something you made & are proud of & want people to see

\o/ i desperately do not like any of the things i make and i am already grateful to the people who have looked at my measly creations before so thank you!

tagging @regularseason @iamidentical @pupuhintz @slagkovsky @supersoftsports... apologies if you've already been tagged and no pressure as always but pls feel free to if you'd like ❤️

#t #long post

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beedlemania · 21 days

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Can you talk more about Mike having a gun. Do the others ever find out and if so, how?

Disclaimer; I know like nothing about guns so my apologies if anything’s inaccurate

Okay so, Mike brought his gun from Texas because who knows what kind of trouble he could get into. He keeps it well hidden and doesn’t like to use it because he doesn’t like violence but he also sees himself responsible for the other three so it comforts him to always have it as a last resort plan. He has it somewhere where he can easily grab it but its easily hidden from the others (who surprisingly dont snoop much in Mikes things).

Micky found out one night when there was a loud noise downstairs. Both he and Mike woke up startled and waited to see if they imagined it. Then they heard either Davy or Peter scream. Mike grabbed his gun and rushed out aiming it downstairs. Turns out it was just a false alarm and Davy and Peter were messing around or what ever. Mike hid his gun before either of them could see it but it was too late for Micky. He looked at Mike in shock because Mike was always the one who wanted to try talk things out civilly before resorting to their silly schemes. Mike begged and pleaded with him not to tell the others since, after he got over his shock, Micky got excited and wanted to hold it and was a bit loud. Mike gave him a very strict talking to and made him leave the room while he put it back where it belonged. Micky has had the urge to search for it but he knows it’s more trouble than it’s worth so he doesn’t. It does comfort him to know Mike has it though, there’s no one he’d trust more with it.

Davy found it because he was annoying Mike with his maracas and Mike took and hid them. Come the night of a gig and Davy realises Mike never gave them back. Instead of asking, he takes it upon himself to go find them. He searches Mikes side of the room for ages before finding it (Mike really did have it hidden well). Davy picked it up thinking it was part of some costume but starts panicking when he realises it’s real. He puts it back quickly but carefully because he’s terrified to set it off (the safety’s on but he’s not taking any risks. Not to mention he doesn’t know what the safety being on looks like). The only gun Davy’s ever touched before was a relic from the war back home that didnt work so he’s a bit freaked out to have touched a real working gun. Mike, of course, finds Davy with the gun in front of him and gets angry that Davy was looking through his stuff. Davy’s nervous that Mike owns one in the first place. He doesn’t see the comfort of having one in the house like the others because he doesn’t come from a place where it is a comfort. He’s all paranoid about being in the same house as a gun and it makes him uncomfortable. Then Mike tells him he’s had it the whole time and it’s sort of reassuring to know it’s been around that long and nothings happened yet so he calms down a bit to the fact. He just tries not to think about it a lot of the time. Mike had hidden his maracas in the kitchen btw

Mikes able to keep it from Peter a lot longer than the others. He assumes Peter would probably act a bit like Davy but Peters also the most likely to somehow end up with it or get himself hurt. Peter finds out because Mike brings it on a rescue mission one day. Both Micky and Davy have been taken so it’s up to Peter and Mike to get them back. Mikes stressing because he knows Peters so easily lead astray and against violence so this mission might all fall down to him so he brings his gun. He conceals it well but Peter catches a glimpse of it. He doesn’t say a word and Mike doesn’t have to use it at any point thankfully. Peter waits until the next day when everyone’s home and safe to ask about it. Mike surprised he’s being so calm but Peter tells him that he trusts him and after seeing Mike get out of the situation yesterday without even reaching for it lets him know all he needs to know.

#monkees headcanon #the monkees #davy jones #mike nesmith #peter tork #micky dolenz

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cipheramnesia · 1 year

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I've always wanted to like horror. I always try to get into it? I've had friends all through life that love horror, especially movies. But i end up loving the time i spend watching it with friends more than I've ever enjoyed the content itself. And like i feel like I'm somehow failing to see it the way large parts of the population like yourself do? But i don't know how to enjoy the medium?

The hurtles I've identified so far are that when there's ableism involved i tend to check out fully. That's been a dead end. And when there's painfully illogical choices by the main characters (the ones that the audience are encouraged to connect with). I get it's a useful tool for plot and moving the story along, but any emotional connection that was built there is like nullified? Idk. Not sure how to see what other people see cuz it looks like fun for y'all

Got any advice?

First I'd say - maybe horror just isn't your thing? I love it, I don't expect everyone to love. I barely expect anyone that likes horror to like anything at all similar to what I like. It's a damn slog for me to find new horror I enjoy, even among the horror fandom, because so many of them want it all to be Insidious or Saw or whatever - which is fine but not interesting to me.

Ableism is a deep dive I need to spend time on, but short answer is - I haven't got a good answer here other than maybe steer clear of the "slasher" sub-genre where it seems most rampant.

I think the main item I want to dig into is whether or not horror in general is uniquely poor with ableism, or is it consistent with other media and singled out for other reasons. I have a suspicion that it's the latter, purely on the basis that it's common in generalizations like "horror has an ableism problem" where the reality is "society at large has an ableism problem" that the problem of the former is a reflection of the latter, rather than innate to the former.

But I don't know, Jason is a horror icon and earliest versions ain't too pretty from that perspective. Hard to equate the latter versions with ableism on accounta he is essentially a supernatural entity after a certain point and whatever, you get the idea. It's all complicated and takes time to unravel. However, all that to the side, it may help to consider if those movies in some way reflect something uniquely bad, or if it's instead more upsetting due to horror characters generally existing in upsetting or disturbing situations. Both can be true on a case by case basis - like the infamous "black guy dies first" problem, which STILL HAPPENS somehow even though it's a problem so widely known that it's cliche even as satire. I have some thoughts about that I'll write up sometime as well.

I'm thinking a way to approach it may be via Franklin, the wheelchair using character of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, who I believe is meant to illustrate the poor way disability is treated, confronting the audience with their own biases. That's a whole other long essay that needs a good deal more work. But I notice it, oh boy do I, especially in the beloved "80s movies," yikes. I enjoy much about them, but there was some... stuff.

Now, characters making stupid decisions I mean... that's just movies. That is literally all movies, characters make stupid decisions. I can't say that makes it better, but I can promise you the average bad character decision per horror, science fiction, Disney(tm), drama, romance, etc etc movie is going to average the same. On the other hand, if this happens in almost all the movies your friends watch, they might just have bad taste in horror.

The takeaway here is getting into horror is something you're probably gonna have to work at if you really want to make it happen. Check out reviews, trusted sources, see if you can find some novels or shows or movies that handle those specific issues well. You may find some trusted artists you can go to more consistently but it's probably going to require some screening. And then also - again - if you don't like horror, that's not a failing or bad or anything to stress over. Some people just don't like certain stuff. No big, live and learn, other fish in the sea, different strokes, all that jazz.

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thethistlegirlwrites · 4 months

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1. What’s your oc’s most irrational fear? Is there a specific reason this fear came about?

3. What does your oc’s voice sound like? (Or, if you have one, what’s their voiceclaim?) Can they sing, whistle, or roll their rs? Do they have any speech impediments or notable dialects/accents?

7. What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to?

10. Who’s the first person your oc goes to to talk about something that made them happy? Sad? Angry?

18. How does your oc see themself? How does this compare to the way other ocs see them?

21. What’s a fact you haven’t shared about this oc?

28. What’s your favorite thing about this oc?

For all of your OCs

This is from AGES ago, but I just found it while answering your other ask so you may have asked this for one crew but you're getting it for the Compass squad and associated OCs now...somehow I don't think you'll be too upset about that ;)

What’s your oc’s most irrational fear? Is there a specific reason this fear came about? Sierra - Sierra wouldn't admit it to anyone but she's incredibly scared that zombies will turn out to be as real as vampires. She can handle the undead feeding on her blood, but she draws the line at brains. Pete - Pete has a fear of elevators. He wasn't around anything like that as a kid but the cage ones that went down into the mines, and when his class went in one on a field trip it was so noisy and swayed so much and the mesh cage sides didn't feel safe enough. Shay - Since he became a vampire, Shay has had a recurring nightmare of bringing in ants with his home earth and them crawling into his ears while he sleeps. Honestly, he'll take it, it's the least disturbing nightmare he has. Saanvi - Ever since she put her foot into a shoe as a small child, only to find a frog inside it, Saanvi can't stand the texture of them. She's okay seeing them from a distance or in pictures, but she just can't touch them or anything else slimy like that. Wren - Wren spent her whole childhood afraid that she was going to grow a bird's beak to match the latent feathering in her shoulder blades. It never happened, and her parents reassured her that wasn't part of her air fae gifting, but once in a while she still thinks of it when she wakes up. Joey - Honestly, Joey's 'irrational' fear is that she'll hurt her family even after she's under mentorship in Chimera's program, and that takes her a long time to get over. But the one her siblings tease her about is the time a lizard fell off the wall, landed on her face, and she screamed and woke up the whole house then refused to sleep without a laundry basket over her head for the next week. Nico - Nico is afraid of dogs. He was never bitten, he just doesn't like them barking at him, ever since he was a kid. After he turned, he liked them even less, because a lot of dogs don't like vampires. He tends to avoid them as much as possible.

What does your oc’s voice sound like? (Or, if you have one, what’s their voiceclaim?) Can they sing, whistle, or roll their rs? Do they have any speech impediments or notable dialects/accents? Sierra - Sierra has a Texas accent that gets stronger when she's under stress or in pain, and she has been known to switch into Spanglish when she gets highly emotional, but that's pretty rare. Pete - Pete's Tennessee accent is still strong after several years on the west coast. He'll intentionally make it sound a little stronger if he wants people to look at him like a dumb hick if that helps him get the information he needs. Shay - Shay's voice is normally deep and a little rough, but he has a higher singing register than his speaking voice would imply, and the fangs he's still getting used to give him a slight lisp. Saanvi - Saanvi has a pretty pronounced Indian accent, and part of her role in Chimera's forensic accounting team is getting information by posing as a customer service rep or call center operator because of people's assumptions based on her accent. Wren - Wren's voice is whatever she needs it to be. She's an accomplished vocal mimic, a fae gift that's somewhat rarer than physical glamours. Her natural voice changes to match her area like a chameleon, so she often has an LA sound. Joey - Joey has a Venezuelan accent she worked hard to squash when she was trying to blend in in LA, so it's not as strong as a first generation immigrant would generally have, but it's still clearly noticeable in her voice. Nico - Nico has a very strong New York, specifically Bronx, accent that he hasn't shaken in the least even after moving to LA. It's sort of a trademark of his now, and he likes that people know exactly who they're talking to when they get him on the phone.

What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to? Sierra - Highway Star by Deep Purple (yes, her uncle John got her hooked on classic rock) Pete - Country Roads by John Denver (he's a folk music guy so yes) Shay - The Unforgiven II by Metallica (Yes, Shay seems like he'd enjoy the raw emotion of Metallica) Saanvi - Drag Me To The Grave by Black Veil Brides (not really, she tends to listen to softer sounding music) Wren - Kids in America by Kim Wilde (Wren's taste is so eclectic it probably works) Joey - True Colors by Cyndi Lauper (Haven't quite decided on her music taste yet but it seems a little too sappy and old school for her) Nico - If You Only Knew by Shinedown (I can see him listening to an instrumental cover of it)

Who’s the first person your oc goes to to talk about something that made them happy? Sad? Angry? Sierra - Sierra's not much for talking. She'd rather punch something if she's mad or sad, so she usually finds Shay for a sparring session. And if she's happy, she probably finds him for big spinning hug. Pete - Pete tends to talk to Sierra about things even if she's spacing out and not listening to him in the car on a stakeout or similar. He uses it as sort of 'rubber duck debugging'. Shay - Shay isn't used to having people he can talk to about any of it, but after Sierra keeps showing up when she needs the decompression, he starts doing the same with her. Saanvi - Saanvi calls home. No matter the time, her hunter parents will always answer their phones, and she appreciates their advice and insight into any situations she feels unprepared to handle. Wren - Wren doesn't tell many people about any aspect of her life. She tends to sort things out on her own and cope by spending time in nature or journaling. Joey - Joey used to talk to her aunt about most things, although she kept a lot of secrets to avoid either worrying her aunt or making her complicit in Joey's less than legal ways of making money if Joey was ever caught. Now, as Nico's mentee, she usually goes to him because vampire emotions are a whole new case. Nico - Nico tends to withdraw when he's upset, and if he's happy, he calls Ricky. Even if all he gets is a voicemail, he wants to tell his kid the good news, and hopes that someday, Ricky will want to reciprocate.

How does your oc see themself? How does this compare to the way other ocs see them? Sierra - Sierra sees herself as someone who has messed up in a big way and is clawing herself back from that, even as a lot of her fellow hunters think of her as a hero for her actions. Pete - Pete sees himself as the background support of his team, and while that's a pretty accurate picture of his job, his coworkers know he's a lot more than just the numbers guy. Shay - Shay sees himself as a monster at first, then as someone sort of on probation. He doesn't really trust himself, and most people don't trust him either. They see the criminal records and the murder charges even though they were overturned. His closest friends know the truth, and that's usually enough for him. Saanvi - Saanvi sees herself as continuing the family legacy. Her family sees the same thing in her, as she's been trained from a young age to be a hunter like her parents. Around Chimera she's more often seen as an accounting genius, but has proven herself more than capable in a fight. Wren - Wren sees herself as a survivor. While she's none too forthcoming with the details of her past, it wasn't an easy one. Other people tend to see her as a wild card, and as someone they know better than to get on the bad side of. Joey - Joey sees herself as first and foremost the protector of her family, even if from herself. Ever since her mother's death, her entire identity has been wrapped up in caring for her brother and sister. The people around her can also see that, and respect her for the level of dedication she has to that role. Nico - Nico sees himself as someone trying to make some sense out of an un-life he didn't ask for. He feels guilty about what happened when he first turned and is trying to make up for that. Most of the people around him think he's doing a lot of good, but don't see the pain motivating that.

What’s a fact you haven’t shared about this oc? Sierra - Sierra enjoys line dancing and used to have a lot of fun going to the local bars in Amarillo that had dance floors. She drags her team to the ones she finds in LA sometimes and has pretty much forced Shay to learn to dance with her. Pete - Pete learned to carve wood from his great-grandfather, and still has the horn-handled knife he inherited. Shay - Shay liked to sing before he turned. He's still getting used to how his voice sounds with fangs, but he's started to again. Saanvi - Saanvi travels home to see her family every year. She can't always make it at the same times, but she tries to get there near her birthday and Diwali. Wren - Wren, despite appearing to be in her early thirties, is actually about two hundred years old and spent most of that life as a hustler, singer, and dancer. Chimera is her first genuinely on the books and fully legal job. Joey - Joey kept her bite scar covered with a braided bracelet before her turn. She made matching ones for her and her siblings, and always told them the three strands were the three of them, stronger together. Nico - Nico damaged his knee when he was twenty-seven in a hunt, and has a slight limp that followed him into his turn. It doesn't affect him too often, but it does slow him down sometimes or ache when he works in buildings with concrete or other hard floors.

What’s your favorite thing about this oc? Sierra - She's an absolute mess and I love that about her. She's done some really terrible stuff and she's doing her best to make up for it but she's clumsy and rough about it. I love that she's trying but is bad at it (Might also be projecting onto her a lot). Pete - I love how 'normal guy' Pete is, stuck in between Sierra and Shay and trying to keep them from killing each other before they will be rational adults and talk about things. Don't envy his job, but love him. Shay - I love the angstiness of his whole arc. He thought things were over, and then got an un-life he didn't really want, and his attempt to get that over with went spectacularly wrong, then kind of right in the end. He's just trying to cope with the hand he's been dealt and has gotten almost as messed up as Sierra in the process. He's literally just along for the ride for most of the story and most of his life in general. Saanvi - I'm really fond of writing Saanvi because she's so quiet and reserved that you'd expect her to be an easy target, and then she just turns around and does something like stab a vampire with a hundred year old punch dagger (a killing blow, too). Wren - Wren's 'malicious compliance' approach to following the rules is going to be really fun to play with. I haven't written her much yet but I love the idea of playing with a character who follows the rules in ways that STILL make her mischievous. Joey - I love Joey because she's so DIFFERENT from most of the characters I write. She wants something, badly, and that something is her family. I tend to write my female characters as the more emotionally closed off (again, projecting), so someone as open and vulnerable as Joey was new territory. She's a departure from my norm, and that's been fantastic to explore. Nico - I love Nico because he's trying so hard to be there for everyone else when his own life is falling apart. He can fix things for other people but he can't fix the mess his own family became when he turned. He and Joey are both more openly emotional than a lot of the characters I write (might have something to do with my finally chipping away at some of what created a few of my hard walls while creating these two).

#asks #compass #sierra aguirre-stoker #pete jemison #shane barrett #saanvi desai #wren #josefina quintero #domenico pontevecchio

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gaycorner101 · 9 months

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Speak now (or forever hold your peace) ❤️🤍💙

Summary: just as Henry and Alex were finally figuring out their relationship and what it meant for both of them, Henry was forced to engage in a fake marriage with a girl chosen by the king to uphold their reputation and legacy. What will this mean for the two of them and will the wedding go on or will Alex have the courage to stop it and save their love?

Warnings: cussing, angst, mentions of smut, arguing/fighting

I had so much fun writing this. My friend and I wrote and read through each paragraph together. Some of this isn’t proofread so ignore any grammatical mistakes lol. But I hope y’all love it as much as I did. And please send me requests. I do Alex and Henry, Charlie and nick, Simon and willie.

PART 2 COMING SOON! (The wedding)

💜🤍

I am not the kind of boy who should be rudely barging on a white-veil occasion. But you are not the kind of boy who should be marrying the wrong girl.

August 5th, 2015

Curtains closed, slight sun-slight shining through the cracks of the velvet material just enough to light up the darkness of the room but also enough to conceal their privacy. Alex and Henry were on Henry’s bed in England, just shortly after Alex’s mom won her second 4 year term as president of the United states.

They had all celebrated and Alex had brought Henry to his childhood home in Austin where Ellen had gone to give her speech to try to win over Texas, their hometown. He had shown Henry all the photos, height indentures in the wall, awards he had won while he lived as a middle class citizen, and especially his bedroom where they had made love, which was probably the most meaningful place they had ever done so.

It had been a beautiful night of laughing, cuddling, and deep conversations where they really opened up and shared things that had made them even closer somehow. Alex showing Henry something as sentimental as his home growing up had really broke another part of Henry’s wall down, making it easier for Alex to slip through.

Now they lay there in London , in the comfort of silk sheets and warm skin, fingers slightly grazing over one another, tired eyes meeting and kisses being placed over and over again. Henry deeply sighed but not one of uncomfortableness or stress, but a sigh of content and satisfaction. Alex who had his legs intertwined with Henry’s, looked up at him and smiled slightly. “What?” He said, voice gruff and deep. Henry bit his lip and shook his head, shifting his body a little to face towards him. “I’m just-I’ve accepted this. Not that I haven’t already before but truly accepted this is my life. This is who I am and you’re apart of that.” Alex smirked and placed a kiss on his neck. “Henry being lovey? Who even are you?”

Henry scoffed and feigned hurt, hand going over his heart. “I’m offended that you think I’m not lovey…I happen to be a hopeless romantic so screw you, darling.” Alex’s laughter filled the room and he wrapped his arms around Henry and pulled him closer. “I’m just messing with you baby. You’re very romantic and also good in bed.” Henry raised his eyebrows and absent mindedly drew circles into Alex’s back. “Good in bed huh? And here I thought that you loved me for more than my body.” Alex scoffed and shoved him lightly before pulling him in for a soft kiss. “Don’t you even go there. You know I love you, all of you.” He said after pulling away from him.

Henry raised his lips into a genuine smile and went back into the kiss, this time a deeper, sensual kiss. One that left both of them humming for more. The moment was pulled from them when they heard a knock at the door and the rattling of a door knob. Phillips obnoxious voice rung through the hardwood sending both of them into a panic. “Why in the world is your door locked, Henry?” Alex shot up and pulled on his clothes before throwing himself onto a chair a couple feet away from the bed. Henry quickly put on sweatshirt before yelling back. “Uh-coming. One second!” He stood up and walked towards the door, giving one quick glance at Alex before unlocking it and opening it up seeing Phillip stand there all proper and professional, so basically an asshole.

They still hadn’t come out to anyone. The only people who knew was bea, June, zhara, and Ellen. They were both scared of what coming out would bring them considering they were both in high levels of power in two different countries. The press, friends, family, citizens, fans….it would all be so chaotic. And as much as Alex was worried about it all, Henry was more terrified of the situation given his royal status. So they decided to keep quiet and stay in their own little world just for a while longer.

“What’s up?” Henry said, hoping that Philip would say what he needed to say and move on, leaving them alone for the night. Phillip cleared his throat and shot his eyes over to Alex who was sitting in the chair, arms crossed and focused on the conversation. Alex shifted uncomfortably noticing the daggers coming his way. Henry cleared his throat which brought back his attention and Phillip nodded once. “The king has requested both you and Alex in his office, now. Said it was a pressing matter.” Henry scrunched his eyebrows, nerves already starting to bunch up at the ominous sentence as alex stood up from the chair and made his way over to the two brothers. “Why Alex?”

Phillip rolled his eyes, clear annoyance at the question presented. “I’m not at liberty to say. I was given instructions and I’m simply following them. So I would suggest you do the same, Henry.” He walked away, hands at his sides.

Henry’s breathing had faltered and hand curled up into a ball. Alex shut the door and grabbed his balled up fist, prying his fingers apart to replace them with his own. “Hey I’m sure everything is fine. Just breathe. Phillip is an ass and probably making it sound worse than it is.” Henry pulled away and walked across the room to his closet. “If it wasn’t serious, he wouldn’t have asked for you too, Alex. Something is wrong and I’m sure he knows and we’re going to be royally fucked and no I’m not trying to make a joke about any of this and-“ Alex cut him off by standing in front of him and placing both hands on either sides of his face. “Hey hey…baby.” He said softly, eyes searching Henry’s face for any sign of nerves or fear which was evident in all his features.

Henry’s eyes had filled with tears, hands starting to shake. “Hey whatever it is…we will handle it. We always do. I love you. I love you.” He emphasized the phrase. Henry hugged him tightly, gripping his shirt. Alex held his head to his chest and kissed his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Get dressed and we’ll go and figure this out.” Henry nodded and after pulling away, collected himself and put on the first suit he had hanging up.

💜🤍

Henry and Alex reached the kings office. The door was closed shut, leaving room for more nerve wracking thoughts. As much as Alex wanted to reach for his boyfriends hand, he knew the gesture would be a waste of effort. So he stood there and looked over at Alex, waiting for him to make a call on what to do. Just as he was about to ask, Henry reached forwards and knocked on the door then stepped back and placed both hands behind his back. Something Alex noticed was a royal movement.

Both doors were opened and there stood Phillip once again, looking like he knew what was coming and couldn’t wait to be apart of the reveal. Thankfully, bea was also in the room which eased some of Henry’s discomfort but only a little. The king stood by the open windows, not even a sliver of darkness covered the room which was ironic given the circumstances of everything happening at the moment.

“You know. When I was young,” the king started to say. “I used to sneak around with this girl. She was a citizen while I was just learning how to be a prince. I thought it would make me feel normal and maybe a little bit rebellious. I did think at the time I would be with her for the rest of my life. But it was just a dumb teenagers brain talking. A stupid phase in life. Until I learned the lessons of being a prince and changed my life around.” He looked over at Henry, no real expression on his face, just focus. Like he was hinting at what he was really wanting to say. “What are you getting at, sir?”

King James gestured towards the couch that was placed in the middle of the room, surrounded by a couple other chairs and couches. “Have a seat. We have a lot to discuss.” Everyone in the room sat down. Henry and Alex on one couch, king James on the opposite facing them, bea and Phillip in chairs that also sat opposite of the other. “Is there a reason Phillip and bea are here?” Henry stated. “Yes, Henry. This is a family matter and they deserve to apart of the conversation that is being discussed.”

Alex could see a slight smirk from Phillip out of the corner of his eye and wanted nothing more than to cross the room and punch it off his face. How could a person have this much disdain and hatred for his own brother that he would find joy in his pain and fear?

“And what exactly is being discussed? Why were we- why was I pulled away from my room just to beat around the bush? What is going on?” The king cleared his throat and gave a very pointed look at his grandson, a look that would terrify anyone who didn’t know him, one that said ‘you won’t interrupt me or speak to me that way.’ Although Henry wasn’t afraid, he still clamped his mouth shut and let him continue.

“I received a very concerning and unexpected email today and to say I’m surprised and disappointed would be an understatement.” Henry’s anxiety started creeping up once again, hands shaking slightly but not enough for anyone to notice. He had a feeling he knew where this going and had no way to prepare for it. Alex noticed Henry’s mannerisms and his heart broke at not being able to console him but he also wanted his own comfort at the way this interaction was heading.

“The emails consisted of pictures with the two of you….together in a way that was clear that there was more than friendship. I will not go into detail because quite frankly I’m disturbed and concerned for the well-being of this country.” Henry gulped and cleared his throat. “I-I can explain. I can- there’s a-a logical reasoning for-“ Phillip laughed sharply and stood up. “Logical reasoning? Really Henry? You’re going to come up with some magical way to explain being a homo?” Bea gasped and raised her hand up to cut him off, hand slicing through the tension almost. “Watch yourself Phillip.”

Alex clenched his fists at his sides, sitting in silence because he knew he could not speak unless spoken to especially in presence of the king. So he kept his mouth shut and just waited until they were alone in their own darkness again.

King James raised his own hand up to silence the room which clearly had an affect because everyone went quiet and Phillip sat down again. “You have to understand the seriousness of it all. I am not trying to make you feel unwelcome or hated but this will affect our Legacy tremendously if actions aren’t taken immediately.” Henry gaped, eyes wide in disbelief. “Not trying to make me feel hated yet starting off with ‘disgusted’ and ‘disturbed’. Is this why you told me your story about the girl you snuck around with? To tell me I’m making a mistake. Except replace a girl with a guy and then tell me I’m sinning, correct? Well sorry to tell you, your royal highness but I’m in love with Alex and I will not have you tell me what I feel or how I should act.”

“Henry! I will not have you disrespect me in any way, especially in my own home. I could not care less how you feel in this situation. This is me protecting the royal status and the country. So as of next week a news article will be released headlining your engagement to lady Delilah. A very respecting and presentable young woman.” Henry could very much at that moment hear his heart beating loudly in his chest and it was as if everything in him was shattering.

Bea stood up immediately and raised her voice, not caring how rude she sounded. “No. You can’t do that! That’s so wrong and cruel. They’re in love grandpa. Can’t you see that!? Can’t you see past the legacy and look at how much you’re hurting Henry?” King James looked up at bea with disbelief but before he could respond, Phillip opened his mouth once again. “Can’t you see how selfish Henry is being towards this country? Don’t you see if Henry, the prince of wales came out as gay, how badly that would affect all of us? Open your fucking eyes, Beatrice.” She scoffed and licked her lips which is what she did when she was about shut someone down with her compelling arguments.

“No you open yours, you twat! How is he being selfish? By being in love with a man? If it was a woman, no one would even think about this conversation. In fact they would congratulate him and ask him how he was gonna propose it if it was even serious.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled, zero humor in his tone. “Yeah because our legacy is a guy or girl marrying the opposite sex to continue the line of royalty. To have children and keep it going because that’s what has happened for centuries and I’ll be damned if he ruins that just to have a sliver of whatever the fuck this even is.”

“Silence!” The kings voice boomed throughout the wide room, echoing off the walls. Everyone looked at him, waiting for his next words. “No matter what anyone says about this…situation. My words are final and this discussion is over. Henry and Alex, I’m giving you one last night to say goodbye and then Alex,” Alex looked up after staring at his lap the entire time, heart beating and an overwhelming feeling taking over his entire body. “You will be escorted back to America on the first plane back to Washington tomorrow morning. Your family will be invited to the wedding to keep the peace aligned but as of tomorrow, your communication will cut off. So spend your last night however you please, truthfully I don’t care.” Phillip gawked at him and shook his head. “You can’t be serious. You’re gonna let them-“

“I do not remember speaking to you. It is my decision and final say of the matter. All of you are dismissed. And Henry, I will see you tomorrow to discuss the more prominent details in private.”

Henry’s eyes welled up with tears and he rushed out of the room, Alex quickly on his heels. “Henry. Henry slow down. Baby please.” He grabbed his arm and yanked him towards him but Henry shoved him away. “Stop Alex! You heard what he said! I can’t-I can’t do this. I can’t live without you. I-I. You’re my boyfriend. You’re my life. My happiness and now I’m going to be forced to marry someone I don’t even know. I won’t be able to see you for we-weeks.” He choked on the last word and grasped his chest. “I can’t-I can’t breathe.” His breathing became erratic and heavy, knees buckling. “Woah hey.” Alex caught him in the moment he was falling to the ground and just held him in the middle of the gigantic hallway, not a soul to be found. “Sweetheart you’ve having a panic attack. Listen to my voice, focus on your breathing, my love. I’ve got you. I always have. Just me and you. Me and you baby.” Although his own heart was breaking and he was on the verge of breaking down, he needed to be there for Henry.

Henry just sobbed into Alex’s shirt and held into him but started to take deep breaths and calm himself down slowly. “There you go. Just breathe.”

After a couple of minutes, Henry went silent and just laid their in Alex’s lap. The silence was needed even for just a moment to truly process everything that happened. “Alex I can’t lose you. You’re the only person who’s made me feel real.” Alex played with his hair and sniffled, a few tears of his own dropping. “I know…I feel the same about you. But I promise we will figure this out. I’ll talk to my mom and-and zhara tomorrow. We’ll fix this.” Henry sat up and wiped at his eyes before making eye contact with Alex. “How? How are you gonna fix this? This isn’t even your country.” Alex shrugged and looked away from him, not wanting Henry to see his red rimmed eyes. “I-I don’t know but I will.”

Henry placed his hand on Alex’s chin and forced him to look at him. “Oh darling.” He hugged him and they just held each other in silence. It was like that for a long time again before Henry spoke up again, this time a different tone overtook his voice. “If this is our last night together before we come up with a plan, can I ask one thing?” Alex pulled back to look at him and nodded. “Anything.” Henry shifted his eyes back and fourth across his face and placed a hand on his leg. “Make love to me.”

Alex stood up as soon as Henry finished the sentence and grabbed his hand to help him up. “I thought you’d never ask.” They practically ran back to Henry’s room and as soon as the door was locked and closed, their lips smashed together and hands moving all across each other. They backed up towards the bed and as soon as their clothes were off, alex pushed Henry onto to the bed and began lavishing his neck.

Moans and grunts filled the room as they made the most sensual love, knowing that tomorrow they wouldn’t be able to see or contact each other for weeks and possibly ever again. It was a blissful night and after going several rounds, they eventually fell next to each other, breathing heavily and skin glistening with sweat. “God that was amazing.” Alex said, intertwining their bodies together not caring how hot they were in the bed together, under the sheets. “Yeah it was.” Henry said in an almost whisper as if he was too afraid to even speak.

Alex looked over and saw tears streaming from his eyes. “Henry….” He shook his head and sobbed. “Don’t. Just please hold me. Don’t say anything.” Alex’s lip quivered and immediately he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him as close as possible, refusing to let go for even a moment. “Okay.” He said softly. Not another word was spoken for the rest of the night as they fell asleep crying and holding each other.

💜🤍

As the sun rose and shined through the velvet curtains once again, Henry and Alex were wrapped up in each other. Both awake but silent. They were just staring at each other, no a word to be spoken. There were no words needed as they knew what was going to happen soon. Alex would be put onto a plane and yanked away from henry, forced to stay on the sidelines while he watched his lover being forcefully wedded to a different person, from a different country.

None of it was fair and it was clear in the air the animosity that was building up as they waited. Small touches, soft kisses, and yet never any words. For there are many ways to say I love you to someone without so much as a peep. Love wasn’t always something that had to be said out loud. The best type of love was one that was obvious and never needing to be proven or talked about. It was just there. And that’s what they felt in that moment even though their lives were about to be turned upside down, ruined.

The knock on the door cause them to both jerk. Not out of being startled but because they both knew what that meant. The only thing they didn’t know is who would be standing on the other side. It could either be Phillip with a smirk on his face just ecstatic to send Alex back off to America and to torture and bully his brother into submission and into a life he never wanted. Or it would be bea, a sad look on her face not wanting this for either of them and not wanting to be the one to escort her brothers only source of true happiness of the premises. Thankfully when Henry went up to answer the door, it was bea. And although it didn’t make him feel better about any of it, she would at least show compassion and kindness throughout the whole process and for that he was thankful.

“Hey.” She said softly, a sadness in her voice that made him feel bad for her when he was the one who was hurting. “The plane is waiting. The king says it’s time to go…he insists that Alex leaves now so he can make plans with you. I’m so sorry Henry. None of this is fair. I tried to talk to him after you guys left but he wouldn’t hear it. I really tried.” He smiled a sad smile and hugged her tightly. “Thank you bea. I really appreciate that but it isn’t your fault. We’re gonna do everything we can to stop this. There has to be a way. I can’t lose him. Not now. Not after we just figured everything out.” Beatrice pulled back and rested her hands on his shoulders. “My dear brother, I swear on everything I will do everything to help you stop this. You’re not going to lose him. I know it’s gonna be hard to not see him or talk to him but it’ll all be worth it in the end.”

He nodded and sighed when he felt a pair of strong arms envelope him. Alex rested his head on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “She’s right baby. We will get through this.” Henry grabbed Alex’s hands that were crossed over his chest and brought them up to his lips to place a kiss. “I know.” He turned around to face Alex and bea stepped out to give them privacy.

“I love you.” Henry said, grazing his thumb over Alex’s cheek. Alex leaned into his touch and closed his eyes. “I love you so much.” When Alex opened his eyes again, Henry pulled away and with tears in his eyes, stepped out of the way of the doorway. “If you don’t leave now, I won’t be able to let you go.” Alex wanted to just post on his instagram right now but he knew he couldn’t, not without Henry being ready. He just wish he was because this could be solved but he understood the fear he felt and would never betray that.

He bit his lip to stop himself from crying and left the room, following bea out to where they had their private plane, of course they did. It was better than a public plane though, much safer without all those people. The loud engine was making it all too real and his nerves were screaming at him and he wanted to puke right in front of everybody but he composed himself. Before he reached the steps of the plane, he hugged bea and whispered in her ear. “Thank you for everything. Tell Henry not to give up and that I’m coming up with a plan. Tell him to wait for me and I’ll be here as soon as I can.” He felt bea nod and grip him tightly, a strength he didn’t know she had. “I will. I promise.” He pulled away and wiped a tear off of her face and smiled before he kissed her cheek and walked into the plane. He turned around to see if Henry was there but he wasn’t. He didn’t blame him though. It was hard enough to say goodbye already, watching him leave would be too hard.

He disappeared and sat at the back of plane, farthest away from prying ears and picked up his phone. He dialed the one person who he knew could fix any problem he had no matter how long it could. As it rang he thought of how he was going to go about explaining everything and how important this was to him that it be done as soon as possible. He heard the click of someone answering, a shuffle, a curse word, and then “alex? You okay?” He sighed and looked out the window as the plane took off back to America. “Zhara. I need your help.”

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