knock me out with a feather

snail-pace indie rp blog by ana, she/her, cst, 23+. forever under construction! navigation

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*puts myself out there in hopes you’ll want to write with me*

hi! i’m ana, 23, she/her, in the CST time zone. this is my independent, semi-selective, oc, multi-ship, multi-verse blog. i’ve been in and out of the community for a long time now and recently, i’ve wanted to come back with a fresh start. a lot of my blog is still under construction rn – trust the process, y’all. if any of my muses seem familiar to you and you want to strike up an old plot, please don’t hesitate to reach out! even if we’ve never interacted before, i’m 100% open to receiving asks/memes, ooc messages, replies to my starters, reblogs of any of my meme posts, etc. as long as you are 18+. thanks for stopping by!

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sorry for the accidental hiatus y’all! i have had a whopping couple of weeks. i accepted a new job and am finishing out my current position. this friday is my last day then i have two weeks off before i start my new job, so that should be plenty of time to get to replies!! <3

[waveofstars]

hopefromthecheapseats​:

He realized then that he did something a bit unfair to the woman: He made the decision for her. Maybe he wasn’t as mature as he thought after all. Anyone who knew better would have told her how they felt, tried to find a productive way of getting past the pain. Beckett? He just wasted his time trying to make it go away as if a week’s worth of time could heal such a wound. 

And yet, she was graceful about it. She would always be better than him at things like this, so understanding. He sighed, begrudgingly taking a sip of his coffee; the warmth of it provided no comfort, even as it sank into his stomach. 

“You’re right,” he said. “M’sorry. I should’ve said how I really feel instead’a just ignoring you.” 

He swirled the coffee in his cup. The still-up Christmas lights outside the window of the cafe reflected in the liquid, resembling confetti. Then, he looked up at her. “The truth is, I’m – I’m broken up about you leavin’. It’s pretty damn selfish, I know. I just remember…” An inhale. He rubbed his head. “When I left for overseas, my momma said something to me that she wished she never said, because she knew it would hang over me the whole time I was gone. And it did. 

“And I just remember… when you told me, I was ‘bout to tell you the same thing she did. And I just… I guess I understand. I don’t want somethin’ like that hangin’ on you, El. I want you to leave here knowin’ everything’s gonna be okay.”

.

Elani couldn’t place this feeling that sunk within her. For a woman who could normally pin some decent logic behind one thing or another, she was lost at what this was. Beckett extended grace to her and acceptance that she was leaving and that should’ve been kind. That should’ve been considerate and everything Elani needed him to be. 

But it didn’t feel that way. No, she was lost as she sat there wishing he would say what was really on his mind. Maybe, just maybe, she wanted him to give her a reason to stay. That was an awful thing to wish, considering she knew all too well Beckett would never stand in the way of her life… Yet, there she was wishing it. 

“I’m not worried about you,” she told him. “I know you’ll be okay…” 

But would she? That was the question lingering in her mind. Her fingertips grazed against the cup as she shrugged her shoulders. Elani wasn’t one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but in that moment, it felt impossible to ignore.

“Maybe I want something to hang onto.”

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Maybe I want something to hang on to.

The words echoed in Beckett’s ears as he swished his coffee in his cup. Steam floated over it. He had retreated his eyes from hers at this point, unable to cling to her gaze as well as he used to. The very same eyes he could once get lost in now felt all too guilty to look at; like a piece of art you’d stolen for yourself. And yet, he felt like every second he didn’t look at her, he’d been taking her for granted.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I wish I had that, too.”

To buffer and give himself time to think, he sipped silently at his coffee, looking out at the window. He could always give the excuse that he was tired from work, though ‘tired’ never really affected him anymore. Work was trivial and a means to kill the time. That’s all his life was: killing time. He hadn’t found much purpose until…

“If you were to go,” he said, glancing up at her. “Do you see yourself comin’ back? Or are you gonna leave this place behind?”

It was an honest question. He had seen so many come and go in this small town and he wouldn’t blame her for wanting to cut all her ties. “I guess what I mean is… you think we’d ever see each other again, or is now just… all we got?”

He didn’t think so hard about whether it was going to be his last time seeing the people he loved before he left for war those decades ago. It seemed as if it was just something he was willed to do; a prophecy he’d made on his own. When he came back from it, only then had he realized things weren’t the same, and they would never be the same as they were when he was at the cusp of his adolescence, a little boy heading off to fight a big fight.

[waveofstars]

hopefromthecheapseats​:

His lips parted in protest to her theft of his champagne, but he decided against it. One of them had to drive them home, and this was her party after all. As tempting as the upper-class booze was, he was content with the food. The fancier the alcohol was, anyway, the worse it tasted – at least, to him. 

Was he being responsible, for once?

He scanned the room just as she did; no one was particularly ugly, but it was not the most attractive bunch. And yet, there was still something about them that made Jesse feel – he would never admit this – less than. His sister’s words echoed in his ears. He snickered, pushing them away and focusing on the girl beside him. 

“You don’t think you’re hot?” he asked. It came out a bit bluntly. In their brief friendship he’d never told her anything like that, let alone flirted with her. But she was beautiful. He’d say leagues beyond anyone within five miles of this place, and that was giving the benefit of the doubt. He led the way through some of the party with her, and the two found themselves closer to the wall, off to the side of the party.

“I’m just saying. I think you should think you’re hot.” He shrugged. “I mean, even if you don’t believe it. You can’t let these people think they have anything over you.” He had a face of contempt as he looked around the room, and then it softened when his eyes landed on her. 

.

Nora turned and looked at Jesse as he paid her a compliment - or, somewhat a compliment. An indirect compliment. A smile grew on her lips and a faint color painted her cheeks, but she ignored that feeling and wore a look of confidence instead. “Who said I didn’t think I was hot?” she questioned, voice playfully threatening. 

She smiled to herself and surveyed the crowd once more. “I know I’m hot. But that’s not what they have over me… Look.” All around them were couples who seemed to be having the night of their lives. All truly authentic and no signs of fake or forced love. That was it - they were all in love. “It’s the fact they land hot dates and so smitten. So in love.” 

Nora had always romanticized … well, everything in the world of romance. She wanted the fairytale, she wanted to be swept off her feet and feel so deeply in love with someone. Of course she couldn’t help but feel a pang of insecurity knowing she was the only one in her department who was single. “I can’t help but want that, y’know?” she spoke up and looked at him. “Just to be loved by someone, I guess. But hey… At least I’m hot.” She chuckled softly. “Anyways… What will it take for me to get you to dance with me?” 

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Jesse looked out into the dance floor in an effort to see what she saw. He didn’t see much: Couples talked and laughed together, looked at each other behind their hundred-dollar flutes. But where she saw love, he saw emptiness. It was the cynic in him, he was sure of it; he pictured the same couples fighting, cheating on each other, neglecting each other. He grew up in a loveless household, the only thing that ever came close to it the way he and his older sister looked after each other. He had no parents to seek comfort in, let alone did he ever see any other couple healthily love each other. It was always pain. Throwing things at each other, screaming until the windows dared to crack.

And that was how he and Nora were different. She saw through rose-colored glasses; his were tinted and speckled. He took a sip of his champagne and shrugged. Though he saw this disparity, he wasn’t about to shine a light to it. “You’ll find someone soon enough,” he said. In the tone of his voice he withdrew a bit, only as to not hurt her feelings or call her naive.

When the topic of dancing came up, Jesse chuckled. Maybe she expected him to decline without budging. But he was always a wildcard. Wordlessly, he set his flute down on a passing waiter’s tray and offered her his arm, leading them both to the heart of the dance floor. “I don’t know why you’re in such a rush, anyway,” he said, scrunching his nose a bit. “If I had anything you had at your age—“ he was a couple of years older than her— “then I wouldn’t be focusing on anything but getting my bag and going home. End up with a mansion. No one will ever be there for you, any time you need it, quite like a Lambo or a big ol’ California King will. Just saying.”

[jaredtpadaleckis-deactivated202]

Cordell & Geri | Walker 2x08 “Two Points for Honesty”

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reynlrunnr​:

“You’re not an idiot,” she was quick to come to his defense from… himself. Kirk was a lot of things - clumsy and incredibly cheesy - but he was no idiot. “You just weren’t paying close attention and…” There was a pause so that she could glance down at the sketch of his sister and her fivehead (which truly was modeled after Rowan’s own forehead because she knew she had an airport landingstrip forehead. “I designed it to be that way. It’s a supposed to be a cameo. A little treat, you know.” There were other treats in her portion of the artwork, too. But he’d noticed those right away. He’d been quick to point out her own cameo all those years ago, after all.

His kiss didn’t go by unnoticed, but before she could return it and kiss his forehead (her favorite spot to kiss after his lips and the tip of his nose), he spoke. And his words stunned her. He was proud of her - of the person she’d become. 

It was definitely the alcohol (and her own innate need to be loved and accepted), but she felt a tugging in her stomach. And she was suddenly and very rapidly overwhelmed with emotion. She had to bite down on her lip and glance away in order to hide her reaction because she knew he’d just feel bad. It was supposed to be a compliment and yet she’d reacted as if he’d just told her they’d lost a close relative. But she couldn’t help it. She really couldn’t. She craved validation, especially from someone she’d been in love with all her life. 

“Thank you,” she said, followed by her rubbing her nose. “You know I try to be a good person. You’re not far behind either, old fart. You’ve grown into such a good man. I mean, you were always good. But you’re better now. And so much more handsome in your 40s.” He wasn’t in his 40s obviously, but she always tried to be funny when she felt things were too heavy. 

“I’m proud of you, too. And I’m happy you came to your senses and realized we’re meant to be because I love you. And I couldn’t wait another minute to tell you that.”

.

His lips parted. Had he said something wrong? The thought crossed his mind, but only for a few moments; they were having a good night -- no, a great night -- and he really couldn’t let his anxiety get in the way of that. The reminiscing was supposed to feel good... and it did feel good. When she finally looked at him, he could tell that she was okay, and in that moment, Kirk felt completely sober. In the best way. 

Because the buzz of the dance floor and the harmony of champagne flutes clinking were one thing; laughing the night away with her was one thing; but he didn’t have to be drunk to feel so fucking happy with her. To feel like he could be doing this for the rest of his life. And looking back at these old memories cemented that within him. 

“I love you, too,” he said. It was really the only response he could croak out after everything she’d told him. His fathers loved him deeply. His friends cherished him. But Rowan made him feel like he was the best person alive, like his purpose was to love her and be loved by her. It was hard to fathom that, just over a decade ago, they were rugrats in a treehouse drawing the world away. 

“I think you should move in with me.” He made sure they were looking right at each other when he said it. But he closed his eyes and shook his head, wanting to rephrase that. He swallowed. “I think we should buy a house. Fifteen minutes away from your work. And I’ll find a new job close by. -- I want to buy a house for you. For us.”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

mysteryoflovc​:

The sight of him is enough to have her stutter though she had said nothing yet. And his words make her feel winded. Dark eyes blink far too quickly as she squinted. Perhaps she had read too far into their conversations online. Maybe she had thought it was something more. Or was time just a cruel reminder of everything you lost? The normally confident woman ran a hand nervously through her hair. She had read this all wrong and she had started to feel a little queasy. What if someone else was here? What had she expected from Zeke? It was one fucking date. However, that was something she never had time for. She had begun to train again after a career stalling injury, she was always on the ice, always competing. She didn’t have time for this so what was she doing here? Like a pathetic stray begging in from the cold. Embarrassing, a cynical voice hissed in her head. 

“Hey.” Chaerin perked up, forgetting her thoughts. She had done that all her life, why would this be any different. “I’m good. I don’t know what I’m doing here.” The woman laughed nervously as she met his gaze. She began to regain her footing. “I’m in town for a competition. I should have just messaged you but…” She felt embarrassed to say he hadn’t been responding to her as much, at all. “I just wanted to see you and make sure everything was okay. I know it’s out of nowhere but I wasn’t sure I would be able to tie you down long enough to speak to you. There is laughter in her tone to hide how much she wishes he could tell her what she had done wrong. “Are you okay? Is Yumi okay?”

.

The more she spoke, the more foolish he felt when he realized he’d been keeping her out on the cold on his doorstep. Before he answered her question, he invited her in. “Come in, it’s too cold for you to be out here,” he said, physically beckoning her inside, arm snaking behind her coat to pull her to the living room. No matter what kinds of tension they had between them now, it was different to see her face-to-face; Zeke couldn’t avoid a text or even a missed call this way. 

Honestly, he didn’t know what to say to everything she’d told him. Or, maybe it was that he knew what to say, but didn’t know how to say it, or how to muster up the guts to do so. He could only give her a somewhat pathetic smile before excusing himself to the kitchen. “I’m gonna go make us some tea. Just warm up, yeah?”

With that, he retreated to the kitchen. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him that the kids wouldn’t be home from school for another few hours, so they had some time. It was a blessing and a curse. There was a lot Zeke wanted to apologize for; the trouble was narrowing down to what. He microwaved two cups of water and slopped a tea bag in each of them. His mother would be ashamed to see him prepare such an embarrassing display of tea, but he had been too nervous (and frankly, didn’t care that much) to make a show of it. A few minutes later, he came back to Chae and handed her tea cup over before taking a seat at the opposite couch.

“I saw on the news you were coming back,” he said, nodding. “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay. I mean, you’re doing really great out there and I just know you’re gonna win this next competition.”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

reynlrunnr​:

“You say that now,” came her quick response. As if to prove her point, she handed over the package of·tteokbokki that would put the fear of god in his soul and the moved over to open their beers.·

“Once you eat those babies, you’ll cry. You’ll cry. You’ll literally cry.” One bottle was opened, followed by a second one. The second one she brought to her lips and took a swig from.·“Even people in Korea have trouble eating this brand and that 2x sign… You should fear it.”·

Something told her he didn’t. Perhaps he was banking on his culinary training and expanded tastes, but that spice was death upon your tongue. And the only way beer could make it better was by making one less concerned with the pain. Not because it could actually cure it.·

“I enjoy it, but I can only eat like half before my stomach acid decides to fight back. We can share.”

.

“I respect that,” he said, flipping the package over to read the numbers. “But do I fear it? No. The only time I’ve ever cried while I ate was after I ate my own food. And let me tell you, ever since then, I’ve had to hold back tears with every dish I cook.”

He would take her word for it anyway and give it a shot, taking over cooking the ttokbokki while she handled pouring them their drinks. It always impressed him whenever someone was more adventurous with food. Living in a country like America, it was easy to fall into the routine of sandwiches, greasy pizza, burgers. Maybe he was a bit pretentious, but he loved international cuisine. It made him feel like he was actually doing his part in learning about other cultures. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, when I open my new restaurant, you wanna be first in line to taste test?”

[bo-kryzze]

KATE BISHOP in Hawkeye - 1.04 “Partners, Am I Right?”

[romancegifs]

ALL MY LIFE (2020) dir. Marc Meyers

[reynlrunnr-deactivated20240211]

“Do you want to something to eat?”

She closed the refrigerator and then made her way to her kitchen island, where she set down their two beers. Rowan moved about the small kitchen with grace, collecting the bottle opener and something to munch on while her guest pondered on the question. 

“I bought instant tteokbokki if you want to try it. It’s super good. A little spicy but we’ve got beer for that.”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

“A little spicy?”

Sam laughed, leaning back on the dining chair as he looked out at the girl stepping further into the kitchen. The way he grew up, he didn’t mind spice at all. The only thing that concerned him was the word instant before tteokbokki; as a budding chef, it was disheartening to hear. Feeling a bit antsy just sitting, he stood up to help Rowan out -- even if she didn’t need it. He couldn’t stay away from a kitchen for too long.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, now,” he said, circling around her to look at the package of tteokbokki. 

[waveofstars]

hopefromthecheapseats​:

Beckett, during any other year of his past, would have feigned indifference and brushed the subject under the rug. But he had been far removed from those defense mechanisms of his, and a part of him knew that they wouldn’t work with Elani anyway. Whether she would let him push her away or fight back with him, no outcome would’ve felt any better than this. The truth was, he needed her closer now more than ever – and the challenge there was trying to tell her how. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Though he meant it, the words burned coming out of his throat. He couldn’t even look at her for too long after he said it. The guilt of leaving her for even just a week to pack up alone and ruminate on how he must have been feeling after breaking the news was almost too much. But he thought about what his father once told him about his mother: to feel everything, because you never knew when it was going to be the last time you felt that way with the person you love. 

He could have come up with some excuse – the station’s busy during the holidays – but he didn’t want to give that to her. If he was going to do his part in making their separation any easier for them, he needed to be honest. He sighed. Tried to clean up his accent as best as he could, looking at her sincerely. “I shouldn’t’ve avoided you. I just… needed some time to practice missin’ you.” A half-hearted chuckle left his lips. “I ain’t good at it, obviously.” 

.

Elani half expected for them to continue skating around the fact that he was very clearly avoiding her. As much as she understood why he did it, the pain of it was too much to bear. Growing up the way she did, she was quite used to knowing people in only seasons of her life. Her family came and went, and the people she left behind were simply a memory. Elani had been stationary for so long, a decade even. She almost forgot what it was like to leave, or more importantly, leave someone behind. 

She didn’t want Beckett to be another memory. Perhaps that’s why she was trying so hard to get him to face her during this precious time before she had to go. The ghost of a smile found her lips as she accepted his reasoning behind it all. He was pushing her away, just like others had done when she was younger. Elani happily accepted it back in the day, but she wouldn’t accept it now. Not with him. 

“You may have wanted some practice, but I didn’t.” Elani didn’t want to already be missing him. “I’m still right here, Beckett… Annoyingly so, I may add. I’ll just keep tracking you down like this and forcing you to spend some time with me.” She smiled a bit more as she looked at him a bit lovingly. “So, sorry. You’re not getting to miss me. I don’t allow it.”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

He realized then that he did something a bit unfair to the woman: He made the decision for her. Maybe he wasn’t as mature as he thought after all. Anyone who knew better would have told her how they felt, tried to find a productive way of getting past the pain. Beckett? He just wasted his time trying to make it go away as if a week’s worth of time could heal such a wound. 

And yet, she was graceful about it. She would always be better than him at things like this, so understanding. He sighed, begrudgingly taking a sip of his coffee; the warmth of it provided no comfort, even as it sank into his stomach. 

“You’re right,” he said. “M’sorry. I should’ve said how I really feel instead’a just ignoring you.” 

He swirled the coffee in his cup. The still-up Christmas lights outside the window of the cafe reflected in the liquid, resembling confetti. Then, he looked up at her. “The truth is, I’m -- I’m broken up about you leavin’. It’s pretty damn selfish, I know. I just remember...” An inhale. He rubbed his head. “When I left for overseas, my momma said something to me that she wished she never said, because she knew it would hang over me the whole time I was gone. And it did. 

“And I just remember... when you told me, I was ‘bout to tell you the same thing she did. And I just... I guess I understand. I don’t want somethin’ like that hangin’ on you, El. I want you to leave here knowin’ everything’s gonna be okay.”

[waveofstars]

hopefromthecheapseats​:

He remembered the conversation he’d had with his sister in the hours before getting ready for the party: “You’re acting like a stray cat,” she told him. “You can’t just keep going back to the first person you connect with.” As he attempted to tie his tie, she walked over and finished the job for him, as the smothering second-mother she was. “She’s too good for you, Jesse.” 

And, as Jesse stood in a room full of hoity-toity upper class folk with degrees and multi-bedroom homes and all this fancy shit, he wondered if his sister was right for once. He cleaned up as best as he could, but he nearly felt guilty that she would be associated with the likes of him by her colleagues after tonight. It was hard to push down this guilt, tell himself that he didn’t give a fuck about what anybody else thought, when the differences were so clear. This was how the other half lived.

“You didn’t mention I was gonna be the best-looking guy at the party,” he said, smirking. He could at least wear his confidence better than anyone else there. He stole a glass of champagne from a passing-by waiter and took a sip. “You know, I’m not supposed to be having alcohol. You could get arrested for this,” he joked. He was, of course, referring to his probation; he’d gotten out of prison early on a set of terms and attending a party with booze (and likely, drugs) was definitely breaking one or two of those rules. 

“Just get me home before midnight and we’ll be square.”

Nora looked around the room and glanced back at Jesse. “You’re in a room full of scientists. Of course you’re the best looking person here,” she complimented, although it was stated as a matter of fact. She knew this wasn’t necessarily his scene, and even though these were ‘her people’, it wasn’t much of her scene, either. Still, it meant something to her that he took the time to accompany her. 

As he took a sip from the champagne flute, Nora reached over and took it from him before taking a drink from the glass herself. A small mischievous smile danced on her lips. She exhaled and continued to hold onto the glass she stole from him. “Consider this my way of shortening my sentence.” As much as Nora enjoyed her fellow colleagues, she didn’t particularly feel like interacting with them much. Maybe Jesse distracted her from it all. She couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“You want to know something strange?” she told him, leaning in a bit to keep her voice low. Her eyes scanned the room and examined her department that was primarily male (unfortunately). “Look at all these dorky dudes with their hot dates… Now you see why I couldn’t come to this thing alone.”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

His lips parted in protest to her theft of his champagne, but he decided against it. One of them had to drive them home, and this was her party after all. As tempting as the upper-class booze was, he was content with the food. The fancier the alcohol was, anyway, the worse it tasted -- at least, to him. 

Was he being responsible, for once?

He scanned the room just as she did; no one was particularly ugly, but it was not the most attractive bunch. And yet, there was still something about them that made Jesse feel -- he would never admit this -- less than. His sister’s words echoed in his ears. He snickered, pushing them away and focusing on the girl beside him. 

“You don’t think you’re hot?” he asked. It came out a bit bluntly. In their brief friendship he’d never told her anything like that, let alone flirted with her. But she was beautiful. He’d say leagues beyond anyone within five miles of this place, and that was giving the benefit of the doubt. He led the way through some of the party with her, and the two found themselves closer to the wall, off to the side of the party.

“I’m just saying. I think you should think you’re hot.” He shrugged. “I mean, even if you don’t believe it. You can’t let these people think they have anything over you.” He had a face of contempt as he looked around the room, and then it softened when his eyes landed on her. 

[bruiscdmouth-deactivated2026051]

hopefromthecheapseats​:

Something had been bugging Lizzie. She just didn’t want to admit it to herself. 

As she watched the snow fall thick from the sky, painting the whole window white even in the dark, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the way the snowflakes piled onto the window sill of the diner, or the way it almost sounded peaceful in the empty diner. They were snowed in – they were waiting for the right time to leave, apparently – and it just seemed to be getting worse. She started to wonder if this was just her longtime roommate’s clever way of boxing her in and forcing her to open up to him.

“You know,” she said in a sigh as she looked over at Karim, “we’d have a better chance of walking home safely at this rate instead of hopping in the car. We’d probably be home faster by foot, actually.” 

The only light inside the diner was coming from the TV overhead; the forecast told of snow for the rest of the night, into the morning. She had been bundled up to the best of her ability under her jacket, sitting in one of the booths. Her picnic-blanket-red-gingham waitress skirt was poofed up underneath. “They’re saying it’s not even really that cold.”

@mysteryoflovc​ // winter-inspired starter // karim x lizzie

Karim stared out the window, hand propped under his chin like it was holding up his entire being. They’d been here for hours and he didn’t think he could say anything convincing to keep them here.  But something made Karim want to stay. Maybe it was the endless coffee or just that the weather was making him nostalgic for university days when he and his mates would cram into a booth and stay for hours. Karim was secretly thankful for the weather because it gave him an excuse to keep Lizzie here. They’ve been living together for months but it felt like he didn’t know her. He wanted to know her. 

At her words he glanced to the TV and nodded. He really didn’t want to spend the night in a diner, despite his desire to drink enough caffeine that they both would overshare. Instead he stared at Lizzie, eyes widening almost comically.  “Liz, if the car gets stolen we have to take the bus everywhere, I hope you know.” The doctor teased as he finally stood up. “And what happens when you get cold and complain?”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

“You might just have to deal with it,” she said. It came out a bit snappier than she wanted it to, but something had been keeping Lizzie on the edge. She liked the distance they had in their apartment; whenever things were getting a little too personal, she could just retreat back to her bedroom until she was ready to face him. But now, she was out in the open, couldn’t retreat anywhere -- unless she wanted to sleep near the deep fryer. 

She sighed, realizing she should probably apologize -- and did just that. “I’m sorry. I guess I just had a tough day, and I wasn’t expecting you to... you know, stick around, I guess.” Any other person would have left, she wanted to add. 

“We can go if you really want to go. I wouldn’t want you stuck here snowed in all night,” she said, standing up and flattening her skirt. She hated this thing; old-timey waitress outfits were just that. Outdated. And she thought she looked like such a cupcake. “But I’m just sayin’, it’s a lot easier to be snowed in where it’s warm and where there’s food and light and kinda-comfy seats to sleep in. What happens if we skid out there or get stuck or something? I’m guessing you don’t have an emergency kit.” 

[bruiscdmouth-deactivated2026051]

It had been months since she last saw Zeke. The pair had only gone on one date when Chaerin was spending the summer coaching at an arena in his city. Before that the pair had been talking online, she had watched his streams to help her sleep when her brain wouldn’t shut off. She sent him a direct message one night, late when she couldn’t will her eyes to close. The pair had begun to talk almost every day and despite their schedules Chaerin felt a strong pull to keep communication going. She was intrigued by the man to say the least. So when she got the call from one of her former rink mates to come coach for the summer in Zeke’s city she couldn’t say no, ulterior motives be damned. Chaerin felt the chemistry, she wanted more but resisted, her self control drilled into her all her life. So the night had ended with nothing but a chaste press of her lips to his cheek before she left for Russia. 

Now she stood at his front door, knuckles hitting with far too much force. She wondered if he moved onto someone else, she couldn’t blame him. Yet a small flicker of hope settled in her chest. Nothing had even started between them, what did she expect? @hopefromthecheapseats​

[hopefromthecheapseats]

Zeke had a bad habit of letting things go when they were just getting good. That’s why it had taken so long for him to get close to his former wife; he didn’t know why, but he was just scared. Scared to get involved, scared to fall in love -- because he never knew what the outcome would be. Not like the way he knew his numbers, or the way that the stories of the games he played would end; because those were finite, and no matter what he did, there was always going to be one endgame.

But when the outcome was up to him -- or the things he did or didn’t do had an effect on the outcome -- he scurried to the backseat. He knew it wasn’t a good thing.

Hell, neither did Yumi. He wondered if she could pick it up just as well as her mother did; the way he declined certain job offers because he didn’t want things to change. Why would he take a job at a video game company that was across the country when his and Yumi’s lives were here? 

When his former wife was buried here?

So, when he felt himself -- felt his feelings -- grow stronger for Chaerin, he did what he always did: run away. And he didn’t realize how long it had been until he got that sinking feeling in his stomach, hearing someone’s knuckles at his door. The guilt hadn’t slammed him like a door in his face until that moment; he knew it was her, he didn’t have to check. 

After weeks -- months? -- of avoiding her, he knew he couldn’t pretend like nothing happened. He needed to face the music. Begrudgingly, he stood from his desk and answered the door, a half-hearted smile on his face as he saw her on his doorstep. “Hey, Chae. -- How are you?”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

@reynlrunnr​

Home was always such a fluid thing for Kirk. Before he grew up with his two dads, he knew of home to be the house he lived in with his foster parents and gaggle of foster siblings; then, when he was adopted, he knew of home to be that place he grew up in. Then, when he fell in love with Rowan, he thought of her complete being as his home – and he’d never known that a person could be that for you until she held him in his arms. 

So when he’d heard the news that a childhood friend of theirs was finally going to tie the knot – they both had to go back home. 

He held a lot of fond memories about where he grew up, from his childhood-teenage bedroom with emo band posters still pasted onto the wall to the tiny marks his fathers had carved onto the doorframe of the kitchen to mark his height. But the most precious set of memories took place in the treehouse in the backyard – his art cave, as he liked to call it – where he and Rowan would often dissolve every summer in the blink of an eye. 

As they sat up there, hours after the wedding reception, coming down from their drunkenness, he flipped through old boxes of good times. His undone tie dangled over each memory. They remembered everything like it was yesterday. But then, Kirk found the holy grail: a comic book he and Rowan had created together, over a decade ago at this point.

“Ho. Ly. Shit. Ro, remember this? – We’re gonna get rid of this, we can’t open it,” he said, laughing, already ready to dispose of the horrible art. 

[reynlrunnr-deactivated20240211]

“Noooo!” 

She rolled over to her stomach, and despite the delicate silk of her slip dress, she managed to crawl closer to Kirk until she could snatch the comic book from his hands. It was rude, yes, but as co-creator of the series she had every right to veto his decision to discard the comic. And truly, she would use that power. With the comic safely in her hands, she rolled over again and then sat up. Her movements were slow and calculated, both to protect the decade old paper and her own dress. A smile spread through her lips. Perhaps it was the alcohol speaking, but she felt a warmth in her stomach and another one on her cheeks.

Few things were as precious as the comic book now in her hands. She could remember all of the hard work that came with creating it. Their first project. Her first book. His first comic series. Oh, those memories came flooding in the moment she opened it to the first page and found the dedication. For Lulu. Long hours were spent in that same tree hours talking and talking. They spoke of their future, of college, of life, of how to make the next Spider-Man. And then there were the hours spent crafting the story, all of the characters, the meat that was their first issue. The artwork is where he’d shown off and where she’d had little little input, save for a few panels she was desperate to add. 

Deft fingers turned the page and she laughed. Loudly. Happily. Another memory came into her mind. “We have to keep this. We can’t throw it away. It’s art. We worked on it together, remember? And Lulu laughed. She said we were nerds. Called me a big headed geek because I didn’t want to include her in the story, too, but I did. On the third act, in one of the last panels, I snuck her in. And I gave her a huge forehead because she called me big headed. Did you ever realize that?”

[hopefromthecheapseats]

So much of his childhood was filled with happy memories, and it overjoyed him that he shared most of those with Rowan. He let her swipe the comic from him and looked over her shoulder as she flipped through it. As interesting as it was to look back at the pages -- reminisce on the days they spent writing it and designing it and coloring it in and agonizing over every little detail of it -- he couldn’t help but feel more enthralled by the girl who was holding it. 

They never really got around to making a second issue of the comic; the summer probably pulled them toward other things. Yet, he still credits those few weeks spent as one of the main reasons why he got into the career that he did. 

“I never knew that,” he said, mouth agape, smiling. Truly, he remembered that character as just a random add-in that Rowan threw in. When they flipped to the page with Lulu’s so-called character, he burst out in laughter, completely seeing the resemblance now. “How did I never notice that? I’m an idiot.”

Leaning over the girl’s shoulder like this, he couldn’t help but think back to those times when they were both kids. He wondered if she knew how much he crushed on her back then; he felt somewhat guilty he didn’t act on things soon enough, but he was glad it all fell into place eventually. So close to her skin, he figured he might as well brush his lips over her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there before lingering. 

“I feel so old,” he said. “Our friends are getting married. Lulu’s, like, almost 40. I’m almost 40. What the hell?” Locking eyes with her, a warm smile adorned his lips. “This is gonna sound weird, but... I’m really proud of the person you’ve become, Ro.”

[livelovecaliforniadreams]