#art with extra fries

[koilarist]

So I may or may not have gotten a little carried away with some Fallout creature designs that have been bouncing around in my head for a while...

#Fallout #Fallout fauna #Fallout animals #Art With Extra Fries #Solgato #Dread Mount #Moulder Mutt #Enjoy the cursed fruits of my wretched brain

[egophiliac]

happy new year Ego!!! Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore your twst fanart and the tags are just an absolute pleasure to read! You are my greatest inspiration for my personal twst art and I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful masterpieces <333 if possible, may I ask what are some of your headcanons for the diasomnia family? If not for diasomnia then any other characters are fine as well!

thank you, and happy new year! 💚💜💚 that is amazing to hear; it's always a little bewildering but super flattering that other people like my silly little doodles so much!

I don't think I really have any really solid headcanons and also canon keeps validating me left and right (FLUFFY DOMESTIC DIAFAM IS REAL). mostly just kind of...impressions and general thoughts, if that makes sense! lately though I've been kind of obsessed with thinking about Lilia's hair, and specifically when/why he ended up cutting it. (l-look, we're bouncing around the timeline and I gotta make decisions about these things when I draw, it's relevant) (I mean I would probably be weirdly fixated on this anyway, but.)

I think I've settled on the idea that he kept it long until he went to NRC, partly because 1) I like drawing The Ponytail, and 2) I think he thought of NRC as a chance to reinvent himself a bit! he gets to go and be a wacky carefree teenager for a few years and have fun! (officially he's there to keep an eye on Son #1, but how much trouble could he get into, really.) so he gave himself a Cool Teen Haircut to go with his fresh new Cool Teen Persona!

also maybe he had some reflection on his hair's troubled past with three kids...

...and had to weigh his vanity versus the fact that he was going off to be around hundreds of kids on a daily basis, and. the choice suddenly seemed obvious.

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 6 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 6 spoilers #this is my blog and i'm going to write a million words about lilia and you can't stop me #but anyway i do genuinely get the impression that he's using Pretending to Be a Teenager as a chance to be even sillier than usual #he's a very silly man he's just being EXTRA silly #supported by his recent birthday card where he says he was specifically trying to cast himself as an adorable little brother-type #because he wanted the other students to give him free shit and save him seats and things like that #it worked for about a week before he turned out to be way too good at stuff and everyone just kind of ended up in awe of him instead #and he was like DANGIT. I'VE RUINED IT FOR MYSELF. #(then he and epel went on to talk about their hypothetical vtubersonas because the birthday cards are INSANE but anyway) #i'm bad at headcanons :( sorry! #unless it's dumb things like...what pokemon they would have or whatever #(malleus would have some kind of special fancy-colored dragapult) (but i digress) #i have a hard time putting things into words. just know that i love the grampa bat and his weird kids very much. #my brain is also still kind of fried from the last couple of weeks #i am however starting 2024 off the way i intend to continue it: in deep contemplation of anime hair #(sorry if these look weirdly aliased) (i realized about 3/4 of the way through i was using the wrong brush and i didn't want to restart :U)

[g0nefischin]

based on one of @hashileio posts (THIS ONE) because the comics are hilarious and I love them 

#My art #my utmv art #fanart #UTMV #undertale au #killer sans #horrortale sans #I forgot his JACKET #Horror got the triple burger with extra pickles and loaded fries #and i put the crack on the wrong side oops

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober 31st 2023

"A Treat for Me?" Fried Egg on Burger.

(Clip Studio Paint, Gouache Brush, Gouache Blender. 23 colors. 1 hour.) Happy Halloween, everyone! And Happy Eggtober End! We did it! Got a spook and a treat today. Will post the recap tomorrow, like last year. The treat is this burger, of course. Nothing quite as decadent to me as a burger with a big fat fried egg. I saw @quezify draw one early on and went "Yeah, I gotta draw one of those at some point." Also yes, that's two kinds of cheese and some bacon hiding in there. I'm an animal.

Hopefully this isn't too much for @lady-quen's Breadbugs.

Speedpaint time!

Can you tell I was inspired by that little dent in the bun on the top left reference? Also shhh, the sauces are under the lettuce and between the layers so they're not all drippy. I totally didn't forget to draw in the sauces.

#Eggtober 31 2023 #Eggtober 2023 #my art #art by GKD #fried eggs #burgers #cheeseburgers #My ideal burger has so many extras that it wouldn't fit in my mouth #but this is a close second for sure! #speedpaint

[ze0wlartist]

Doodles.

#owlbox #artist on tumblr #the sillies #digital illustration #hazbin hotel adam #Adam #hazbin art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #solo leveling fanart #solo leveling #solo #Akito #idfk im calling him Akito #ice elf #red gate arc #uhhhh #uhhhhhh #uhhhhh #uhhhHHhhshjshsjshdhd #Art #drawing #a fucking uhhhh cheese burger with extra fries #and the uhhhh the motha fuckinn...Subway sandwich #Everybody loves me #and a fucking....a motha fucking....Uhhhhhhh...milk shake- #Thats all ty

[miss-scrawl]

The whistful sigh of a girl with burger-related desires 🍔🍟🥤

✨️happy Belated Tdov! May i take your order? ✨️

#with three dollars extra you can have the big big combo w extra french fries #tdov 2023 #burger #soda #french fries #trans #non binary #transbian #sapphic #pink #blue #sapphic art

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

ESWAT's FINEST ON FULL DISPLAY -- A PIECE FOR EVERY OCCASION.

PIC INFO: Mega spotlight on a character bio & pin-up of "Extra-Special Weapons and Tactics" member Deunan Knute (with her arsenal), artwork by Masamune Shirow, from the cyberpunk manga series "Appleseed" (1985-'89).

Sources: www.pinterest.com/pin/354799276868111606 & Facebook.

#Deunan Knute #Appleseed #Sci-fi Fri #Guns #Shirow Masamune #Sci-fi Art #Extra Special Weapons and Tactics #ESWAT Extra Special Weapons and Tactics #Cyberpunk Manga #Masamune Shirow #Shirow Masamune Art #Cyberpunk #Masamune Shirow Art #Appleseed Manga #Sci-fi #Girls with Guns #ESWAT #1980s #80s Manga #Manga Art #Manga girls #Manga #80s Sci-fi

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

dream of a singular kagamine

#my art lol #vocaloid #vocaloid fanart #kagamine len #kagamine rin #rin and len kagamine #len and rin kagamine #rin kagamine #len kagamine #fusion #dreamcore #surreal #bright colors #balloons #ugh i never know how to tag anything anymore bruh 😭 im so tired #wasn't actually originally going for that sorta weirdcore/dreamcore aesthetic but it worked out?? i need to do more legit bgs like actually #the fcked up eyes coulda turned out better but it turns out im not good at drawing conjoined irises... or whatever thats called #double pupils... there's a lot going on there. was also contemplating abt giving them extra limbs but i was nah... #meant to look more relatively normal; and you could argue some sorta symbolism abt rin&len's relationship here too but idk #idk what to type here my brain is fried right now uhhh... no relation to anything ive previously posted. no idea WHERE tf they are #i randomly decided to save a transparent png of them w/ flat colors before i added the bg and shading and everything too #doubt i'll ever use it but?? its here in my files now

[jennhoney]

I went for a burger with the artist. There was a dog that looked like Cowboy so it was alright! My waitress accidentally gave me fries and then brought the soup I actually ordered. So it was extra alright. And now I’m home with my baby sister and that’s fucking best.

#I ordered a poutine burger #so that meant that there would be some fries on it #I was just trying to be carb sensible #but the universe was like #you’re a tall girl Jennifer I’m worried you’re depriving yourself #have some extra fries #it would be nice to have an art friend #also i’m real low down lonesome #but my god at what cost #jennhoney personal log #fafner the??? #Cowboy the Dog Champion

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Ready to roll?

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 9

Prompt: No Upside Down AU

Rated: T

CW: one mention of masturbation bc Eddie is a horny little shit

Tags: Future fic; Flirting; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in rollerblades

Notes: Another collab with the amazingly talented and creative @house-of-the-moving-image - check out their art!

"What?" Eddie says eloquently, tearing his eyes from the laminated menu. 

The waiter is hovering next to his booth, pen tapping against the notepad in his hand. He looks annoyed. Probably pissed at Eddie for interrupting his quiet night shift. Well, tough luck, pretty boy. 

"I said …" the waiter pauses, heaves a brief but heartfelt sigh. "Are you ready to roll?" 

Eddie blinks. 

"Listen, dude!" The waiter says flatly, but there's a blush blossoming on his neck. "I'd ask if I may take your order, but I'm, like, contractually obfuscated to say … this instead. Goes with the theme, y’know?" 

He gestures at the entirety of himself. The cheerfully colored shirt and tiny shorts. The little apron around his waist. The knee-high socks disappearing into a pair of chunky, red-and-white rollerblades, and … oh, right. 

"Well?" 

Eddie snaps his eyes back up and shit, for how long has he been staring at those legs like a creep?

The waiter is scowling at him. He really is pretty. Exactly Eddie’s type. Gold-flecked eyes, stupidly voluminous hair, pink lips twisted into a bitchy little scowl. Eddie imagines pushing him up against the wall on those stupid wheels of his, sucking and biting that scowl right off. 

"Hm," he makes instead. "The guys at the label said I'd enjoy the cake, but I'm starting to think they weren't talking about the menu." 

The scowl deepens. 

"Cheeseburger and fries," Eddie says. "And a strawberry milkshake." 

One elegant eyebrow arches. 

"... Please?" 

Waiter boy smirks at him, a brief flash of perfectly white teeth. Eddie wants to lick them. 

"Coming right up." He jots the order down, shoves pen and notepad into his apron pocket. As he does, Eddie catches a glimpse of the name tag attached to his uniform shirt. (Which has nothing to do with him ogling the way the fabric stretches over that toned chest, because he wasn't doing that, thank you.)

It says "Hi, I'm Steve. :-)"

Wait, what? 

The whirr of rollerblades on the floor tiles jerks him out of his stupor. He's glad he didn't take off his sunglasses, because holy fuck, he must be gawking like an idiot right now. 

Because he knows a guy named Steve. Or knew. 

A guy named Steve with perfect, caramel hair, tan skin littered in moles and an irritatingly pretty, aloof smile. Not that Eddie was ever at the receiving end of that smile. The closest Eddie ever got to him was back in eighty-six, when he was dealing drugs out of his van. In the driveway of that palace in Loch Nora, while the King and his court partied inside. 

Eddie watches how waiter boy comes gliding out of the kitchen, wipes down tables and refills napkin holders. 

It can't be. 

Steve Harrington is back in the hellhole that is Hawkins, Indiana - or maybe at some college halfway across the country, preparing to take over daddy's business. He's most certainly not wearing rollerblades and a pair of stupidly short shorts, waiting tables in a cheap twenty-four hour diner in Seattle. 

Then again, back in eighty-six, who would've thought that Eddie Munson would be owning his own record label one day? 

When waiter boy arrives with his order and leans in to put it down on the table, Eddie peers over his sunglasses to cast an inconspicuous look at his profile. 

There's a pair of moles on his neck, near identical in size, spaced apart like a perfect little vampire bite. 

Well, slap his ass and call him Sally. 

Eddie knows these moles, has spent entire nights jerking off to the thought of sinking his teeth into them. 

"Staring costs extra," Steve mutters at the milkshake. 

Before Eddie can say anything, the phone on the counter rings and Steve rolls over to answer it. Eddie chews on his too-salty fries and can't help the grin that tugs at his lips as he watches the boy twirl the cord around his fingers while taking the order. 

The night just officially got interesting.

Steve looks over, catches him staring and gives him the flattest, most unimpressed look Eddie has ever seen on a person who just realized they were being checked out. The blush has reached his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Eddie winks and Steve rolls his eyes before he turns his back on him. Eddie doesn’t complain. That ass does look fantastic in the shorts.

He takes his time with the meal. The burger is nothing to write home about, but the view more than makes up for it.

When he is done, he saunters over to the counter, pulling out his wallet. Steve is busy counting mayonnaise packages and muttering under his breath. He blinks in confusion when Eddie slaps down a fifty, starts digging for change in his apron. 

"Nah," Eddie says. "Just keep it." 

Steve frowns at him. "That's way too much." 

"Don't sell yourself short. I thought staring was extra?"

Steve opens his mouth. Hesitates. Closes it. Pockets the money. 

"Thanks," he murmurs, eyes trained at some point behind Eddie's shoulder. "Roll by again."

Eddie just barely manages to turn the incoming snort into a grin.  

"Sure will,” he mutters, leaning across the counter and into the boy’s space. “Maybe I'll try that cake next time." 

"Oh, please," Steve huffs. "As if you could afford me, Munson." 

Eddie feels his jaw drop. "Wait, you knew who-" 

The doorbell chimes. 

"Hi there!" Steve chirps at the guy in the door. "You called, right? I'll check if your order is ready." 

And then he's gone and Eddie is staring at the still swinging kitchen door like an idiot. 

It isn't until he's back out in the dark street that his confusion morphs into something else. His majesty wants to play coy? Well, Eddie can indulge him, can't he? 

He makes his way home with a new spring in his step. Looks like he's found his new favorite dinner spot.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[koilarist]

As the world caves in...

#fallout #fallout oc #fallout fanart #ghoul #ghoul oc #OC: Whiskey #slamming ghoul angst down on the table and dashing away at full speed #I was originally gonna write A Thing (tm) to go with this but I've decided I didn't want to wait to finish that. so. #In which Whiskey becomes the very threat that her vault sought sanctuary from #art with extra fries

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Heyyy I have a request can you do one that gavi and her are eating something in his car and she’s wearing his hoodie and she accidentally stains it and she panics because when something similar happend with her ex he yelled at her

Food Stains are a Work of Art - P.G6

Summary: You mess up one of your boyfriend's hoodies and that has you worried

You were laughing at your boyfriend's antics, he was often very shy; yes but not with you, he loved acting like a fool for you and having confidence with you (after almost a two year relationship) his goofy side never left. You loved it because it meant a smiley Pablo and you loved his beautiful smile since he wears a frown everyday.

"I can't believe she did that" You said shaking your head while grabbing his watter bottle and drinking some from it

"I know, it was crazy. She started singing and dancing to Envolver out of nowhere, she probably was wanting to get Mario's attention"

"There are better ways" You shook your head "Or maybe she was trying to get your attention" You hinted softly with a smile

"The only one I want to randomly sing and dance to Envolver is you, preciosa" He smiled "In fact, you don't need to sing or dance to get my attention since you always have it"

"Such a charmer, you are" You smiled pinching his cheek

"Cállate, que así me quieres" (Shut up, you love me like that) You smiled grabbing his hand that was on your thigh to kiss it softly

"I do" You jokingly bite one of his fingers "But you don't love me so much since you are leaving me die out of hunger"

"McDonald's sounds good?"

"What about your diet?"

"You won't rat me out, right?"

"I don't know"

"I'll buy you a double cheese and double meat burguer with extra fries if you don't"

"You think I'm that easy to buy?" You scoff "Please" You shake your head side to side "Can you add a dulce de leche ice cream?" Pablo laughs

"Will you give me a kiss?"

"Of course"

"Then done" You nod satisfied watching how Pablo turns into the drive through, his hand squeezing your tight once in a while.

You play with the hoodie strings of the white hoodie you stole from your boyfriend and with his hand. It was relaxing for you lacing your fingers through his over and over again.

Being so into your thoughts but you realized when Pablo took his hand away from yours and you went to protest but then when you saw the food you shut up and helped him with it.

"Gracias" (Thank you) He said softly before getting out of the drive thru "Let's go to the beach?" You nod

"De verdad que me encanta como piensas, Pabs" (I really like how you think, Pabs) He smiles lifting your hand to kiss it

And that's how you got to the beach, eating burguers and laughing like crazy at each other.

"No, wait no" You tried to say with your mouth full of Coca-Cola but then Pablo did a funny face and it went down your nose, making Pablo crack up in laughter as you froze after coughing.

You looked down at his hoodie and froze, a big ketchup and Coca-Cola stain was decorating the front of the piece of clothing. Panic went inside your head.

You've gone through this situation before and it didn't ended up good. You were already thinking of the amount of chlorine, detergent, softener and soap you were going to use to make the stain go away.

Or at least, hope to make it go away.

"What's wrong?" You heard Pablo said

"Nothing- I just- I-" You started shaking your head

"What?"

"I-"

"You..."

"I messed up your hoodie" You said softly not looking into his eyes, you didn't wanted to, you didn't wanted to see the anger in them.

"What?"

"I got food stain on your hoodie, Pabs. I'm so sorry. I promise I will wash this very well-Ugh god! I shouldn't have eaten with your hoodie on if I knew this could happen, I'll buy you a new one!! Don't worry about it, I can-"

"Slow down your horse" Gavi said shaking his head "You will not buy nor wash anything, it's just a hoodie"

"It was your favorite hoodie tho"

"So?"

"I stained it! You have every right to be mad at me by that"

"No, I don't. It's just a small mistake, nothing too big. Okay?"

"But-"

"No buts. It's just a hoodie, it's not a big deal. I can buy us another one and done"

"No"

"Señorita, para" (Missy, stop) Pablo said shaking his head "Why so worried about a simple hoodie?"

"That was your favorite hoodie! I messed it up!"

"You didn't! And stop it! I don't know what happened before but you don't need to worry about a damn hoodie stain. I won't get mad at you, love. I'll love it even more because it has good memories" Pablo said as you shake your head

"My ex didn't liked whenever I stained his clothes"

"Well, your ex's an asshole and I'm not him. I don't care about a simple thing like a hoodie" He grabbed some ketchup and put it on his finger, staining his hoodie with it

"Pablo!"

"Food stains are a work of art. You should know that" He smiled softly "But on the other hand, the good news are that we match now"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#gadriezmannsgirl replies #gadriezmannsgirl is writing #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi imagine #pablo gavi icons #gavi icons #it's midnight here #don't know what am i doing up #... like I should be sleeping #🥴

[ofdreamsnwishes]

Chronically online, that was a way that your boyfriend used to describe you. And he was correct, somewhat, since you’d never admit it.

Spending time on tiktok was one of your favorite ways to pass time; watching weird dance videos, beautiful arts, different makeup styles, those reddit videos (your favorite; being nosy about others life) and of course the couples trends.

Oh the couples trends.

You tried almost all of them with Mark, finding joy in his reactions; kissing him all over with a red lipstick, the “you better lock your phone” trend, hands heart trend, you name it. And now, you found a new one.

Mark had invited you to a casual hangout, drive around the city, go shopping, anything really, as long as you two were together. You took this opportunity to try your latest scheme.

Once you got in the car, he leaned over the central console, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. Exchanging greetings, he smiled at you and reached over to rest his hand on your thing, squeezing it gently as he started to drive.

Step 1 of your scheme: ask to get some food.

It was easy, considering it was almost lunch time and you were sure he hadn’t eaten yet, waiting to pick you up so the both of you could eat together. So, he relented easily, unsuspecting, as he changed the route to the nearest fast food chain for a quick bite. Once there, you insisted on eating in the car, saying how it was cooler inside because of the AC, as if the store didn’t have any AC, and how it’d be much easier to just eat inside the car, not even having to get up.

As always, he relented. Mark always did when it came to you.

Step 2 of your scheme: set the camera up without him suspecting anything.

It was somewhat easy too, as Mark didn’t really question what you were doing, specially after you said you wanted to film your reaction to the limited time food you ordered, with the intention of sending to a friend. Maybe he was just used to your antics at this point, but still, you considered it a win.

Step 3? Lights, camera, action!

“This looks so good!” You exclaimed, picking a piece of the extra cheesy fries, mouth salivating at the sight.

“Careful, it’s hot.” Mark warned you, sliding a napkin over your lap, just in case you dropped anything. This man… Always so thoughtful.

You shoot him a smile, before approaching the camera with the fries in hand, showing it off.

“Look! Mark got me these! He’s the best husband in the world, for real-”

You heard him choke on his drink, head snapping to the side, looking at you with wide eyes. He had a surprised look on his face, but you could also see the smile that was threatening to show on his lips, the tip of his ears already flushing red.

“What?’ He asked, voice soft as if in disbelief. ‘Husband…?”

You just smiled back, a giggle escaping your lips. “Yeah… Why? Does it bother you?”

“Well- That’s not- It’s- I’m happy, actually-’ He fumbles with his words, eyes darting all over the place. Then he looks back at you, a shy smile on his face, voice so incredibly soft you could basically melt in it. ‘I’m honored you’d call me your husband… I guess my heart just skipped a beat, not gonna lie…”

God, you loved him. You heart was doing somersaults, how could he look just so adorable?

Leaning over you kissed him once again and Mark eagerly reciprocated it, hand tangling up the hair at the back of your hand as he pulled you towards him.

Another trend done successfully.

#not my best work #but it’s doable #also not proofread #good luck #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark x reader #mark #mark lee x reader #↳ my writings ༉‧₊ #↳ just nct ༉‧₊

[verawhisk]

my brain is so fried that i have to put a jerma vod with chat on while i draw otherwise i start getting moody. and for extra immersion i zoom in so only the chat is showing and its like i have fans who think my art is the funniest thing ever

[pastel-pillows]

Finally free of Hawkins Billy makes his way back to California after years away where he makes a special stop at his favorite diner.

Word count: 8925

No warnings!

“One all American breakfast, extra bacon, extra crispy, with a black coffee, extra hot. Banana nut French toast with a side of sausage and orange juice and an Ella’s original with water, coming right up.”

The sun had just barely made its home in the sky for the day yet the diner was already bustling, silverware on ceramic plates and chatter mixing into an ambient background noise that mingled perfectly with the wafting scent of brewing coffee and frying foods. Large windows let in unfiltered light to bathe the small diner in a natural glow and despite the early hour, most everyone seemed to genuinely be enjoying the welcoming atmosphere the building was bringing in, content, and some admittedly sleepy, faces all at peace.

“Thanks Hun, you’re the best.” A wrinkled hand held out the menus for you to grab, her other one patting the top of your hand in a silent ‘nice to see you gesture’ as you grab them.

“It shouldn’t be too long of a wait, most of the morning rush has been seated and served.” Tucking the menus underneath one arm you turn your attention to the toddler seated next to the older woman to ruffle his hair. “Would you like some crayons, little man?” Flipping the paper place mat in front of him over you pointed to the drawings and little mazes printed on it, all things he’d seen many times before but was nonetheless excited each and every time you showed him them.

“Here you go sweetheart.” The bell over the door chimed while you were grabbing the cup with worn down and, unfortunately, mostly broken crayons, so you call out over your shoulder that you’d be with whoever had just walked in, in just a minute. “Who’s the lucky person you’re coloring for this time?”

Having known the Hannigan’s from the summers you’d spent with your grandmother, you’d become quite familiar with their kids and in turn their grandkids and had several juice-stained pieces from Jackson pinned to the fridge in the kitchen of the restaurant. You didn’t get to hear his answer, the door chiming once more covering up the gentle reply from the timid kid so you just nod to pretend that you’d heard what he said and then promised to be back soon with their food and to check on his masterpiece.

By the time you made it back to the podium up front, no one was there to be found. A quick scan told you that whoever had come in had either gone to the counter to pick up an order or had gotten too impatient and simply left.

“He already left, sweetheart. Grabbed some pastries and booked it.” Helen reading your searching face gestures to the small glass display to illustrate her point. “Must’ve been on the road and in a hurry, I didn’t recognize his face, real quiet kid too, he didn't say much.”

“Thanks for taking him, I got caught up talking to Jackson about his art.”

“If only I was thirty years younger, he was a cute little thing.” Helen waves away your thanks in favor of cooing over the mystery man with the sweet tooth and how she would’ve eaten him up back in her day.

“Your mailman is going to be heartbroken.” You shoot a quick glance over the counter to see Sabino still cooking and take the chance to lean over the counter and gossip about Helen’s love life. “ The sailor, too.”

“Honey, there is plenty of me to go around, even at my age a good time is a good time. You should really be getting out there too, we can manage a shift or two without you, you know? The place isn’t going to crumble if it’s just us and you need to have fun while you’re young.” In between stories of her rendezvous Helen loved to urge you to follow in her footsteps and take the good that was offered, or at the very least spend time anywhere that wouldn’t leave you smelling of burnt coffee and fried foods. Her own kids had grown and left some time ago and she’d taken to you with an almost maternal, maybe more older sister role and was no stranger to worrying over you.

A pair of plates scraping as they slid across the tiled ledge drags your sight from Helen’s scrutinizing, albeit well-meaning gaze to a plate of French toast stacked sky high with whip cream, chopped nuts, bananas and powdered sugar and a much more modest one of eggs, hash browns and bacon. “Better get that, Jackson hates when the whip cream melts before he can eat it.”

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in going out; California was thriving –the place to be with seemingly new things coming out every day, but you needed to save. A car wasn’t going to buy itself and waking up at four every morning to catch the bus to make it to the diner on time wasn’t something you wanted to do forever and as much as you like rooming with Lisa, a place of your own was eventually the goal.

Your shift passes slowly after that, thoughts of what girls your age were doing occupying your mind, daydreams of nights out and shopping trips mixing with the fried scent of reuben sandwiches and chicken tenders as the morning crowd bled into the afternoon lunch rush.

Helen’s words left you longing for both the things you were missing out on and the parties you’d gone to in high school. You hadn't realized just how much you’d missed having simple mindless fun until today. The memories of his laughter echoed in the back of your head through your afternoon chores and well into the evening, your dreams were water colored that night, pretty but distant and just out of reach.

“Morning Hun.” Sabino, the only person to get there earlier than you, sat at an empty table with a mixing bowl full of fruit loops in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee which he slides to empty space on the other side for you to enjoy.

Sliding into the seat, you lay your head down on the table and wrap your palms around the warm ceramic to both enjoy the last dregs of sleepiness and allow yourself to fully let the approaching work day settle in in the peace of the morning. After a good ten minutes had passed, the bell on the front door chimes once, then twice– and finally a third time to let you know Helen, Marie and Dennis had made their way in and that it was time to chug your now lukewarm coffee and start getting things ready.

The morning prep goes fairly painlessly and as the sun creeps up people began to trickle in, all of them just as heavily lidded and reluctant to leave the cozy promise of beds and sleep that came with nightfall as you had been, but perking up at the smell of coffee and grilling bacon that saturated the air .

“Welcome to Cecil’s, will you be dining with us or ordering to go?” It was barely fifteen minutes past the hour when the bell chimes signaling another customer had come ambling in. Marie was hosting today and you can just barely hear her greeting the patron with an enthusiasm that could only come from someone who was as new to the workforce as she was, fresh faced and eager with everything ahead of her.

There was a longer than usual pause and you heard Marie speak again. “Sir?” Just a few more seconds pass and a deeper voice responds with three words that had you craning your head to peek around the corner where you’d been setting out the pastries.

“Coffee, to go.”

Marie repeats his order to confirm. “One black coffee to go. Can I get you anything else this morning? They’re just putting the pastries out, we make them ourselves.”

“Just the coffee, thanks.”

“Yes sir.” Knowing you should probably brush it off as someone who just sounds familiar, you find yourself quickly stacking the last of the muffins and closing the display to finish before Marie is done pouring the coffee to get a glimpse of the man up front.

Rounding the corner you make it in time to see Marie putting the pot of coffee back, she’d given him decaf on accident, with no one else up front. “Marie?”

“Yeah, hun?”

“Can you cover for me real quick? I need to check on something.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

He was still there, sitting with one hand resting outside the window of his car holding a cigarette that he wasn’t smoking, head tilted back and eyes locked firmly on the roof of his car, the coffee he’d just bought was placed on his dash with the lid popped off and several sugar and creamer containers were open and emptied alongside it.

To everyone, including yourself, he looked to be just another man who was taking a moment to collect himself before the start of another day. To those who paid just a little more attention he looked nervous, the hand holding the dwindling cigarette shaking slightly at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

“Billy?” He could hear the sun in your voice, feel the warmth.

“Hey Princess.” He offered an easy toothy grin as if him stopping by to say a quick hello was a common occurrence.

“I knew I recognized that voice. I didn’t know you were back in town, are you visiting family?”

“I’m just here for a few days on my way through town, then I'm heading out.” Billy flicks the butt of his cigarette to ash it, the cherry burning upwards on a smoke he’s only taken one drag from.

“That’s a shame, it’d be nice having you back around. You always had a way of shaking things up.” The chime of the bell over the door alerts you to Marie before the call of your name does. “Stop in for breakfast before you go, yeah? I’m on for the next three days, all opening shifts. I’ll have our chef Sabino make you his famous peanut butter banana nut waffles.”

You pat the hood of his car a few times and bid him goodbye over your shoulder while making your way back into the well-loved diner for the rest of your shift, a skip only your coworkers would notice had been added to your step.

After two weeks had gone by, you were sure that Billy had simply come and gone, sparing a quick stop to say hi to a highschool friend before disappearing to wherever his final destination would be. The coast was your guess, somewhere quiet, but not isolated where he’d always be close to the water. He’d always loved surfing on warm days where he could relax while digging his toes into the sand and watching the waves lap at the shore on the cooler ones.

It was a short meeting but it left a lasting impression on you, memories flitting through your mind while you worked for the rest of the day.

The trailers were just coming to an end when you’d finally made your way into the theater, the opening scenes filling the screen while you balanced your popcorn, soda and candy in one hand and your purse in the other, the narrow aisles seeming smaller with every seat already full for the debut showing of Terminator 2. Even in the dim lights, it was obvious tonight was going to be a sold out show.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Every empty seat you managed to find was filled by a bag or stray sweater to signal it was being saved for a friend or already taken by someone who were making a quick dash to the concessions for a refill on popcorn and coke, having already downed theirs during the ads for upcoming movies and new products.

“I’m sorry my friend is sitting here, she just went to the bathroom.” Linda Hamilton’s voice booms on the speakers just as the girl was talking, her words hushed and nearly lost by the on screen presence, but the apologetic expression was more than enough to let you know exactly what she had said.

A shout of your name brings your attention to a row towards the back where you were surprised to see Billy waving you over, his tenor deep enough it cut through the boom of the music sequence to show you that he was pointing to where there was an empty seat next to him.

You had to squeeze past more than a few people to reach him, awkwardly shuffling sideways while being sure not to step on anyone’s toes as you made your way down the aisle to where he sat next to the seemingly only open seat left in the theater. “You always were there in my time of need, I might just start to think you’re my hero.”

“You’re here on your own?”

“Sara was supposed to get here earlier to save seats but she called last minute to cancel.” You had a sneaking suspicion that her sudden change in plans had something to do with the new coworker she’d met last month named Michael, his name had been popping up in more and more of your conversations and you knew it was only a matter of time before her work crush turned into something more. Juggling your stuff, you managed to get your sprite into the drink holder and tuck your bag underneath the seat before collapsing into it with a relieved sigh. As used to being around strangers and making pleasantries as you were from work, it was nice to settle beside someone you knew on your day off.

The movie was ok and Billy was sure he would have liked it had he gotten more of the story but his attention was divided between you and the big screen, his eyes having a hard time choosing between the fast paced action scenes up ahead and your delighted face as you crunched away on your treat. In that hour and a half, he learned a few things: you like to talk during movies, soft enough that only he could hear your whispered commentary and jokes, you alternated between salty and sweet, for every few handfuls of popcorn you would toss a mouthful of reese's pieces into your mouth for balance, and no matter how many times he declined your offer of snacks you’d always offer again a few minutes later, never content until he was eating too.

“Did you see the Hospital escape?” By time the movie had ended you’d made your way through all of your Reese’s pieces and soda but still had about half of your popcorn left, you were clutching it to you and still snacking on it as you recited the film you’d just seen back to him in a dramatic play by play. “I never saw the first one, but Sara had insisted this was going to be the ‘it’ movie of the summer. You saw the first one, right? How did this one hold up compared to it?”

Like it was a habit you’d been doing forever you leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder as you walk through the lobby and towards the parking lot, the tub of popcorn being shoved into his view from time to time in your never ending bid to feed whoever was around you. He tensed at the contact initially, but relaxed as you walked in stride with him, the warmth of your head against his bicep bleeding through the denim of his coat. The arm that wasn’t clutching the butter stained container to your chest looped its way around the arm you were leaning against to offer you an easier time keeping pace with him.

Outside the sun had reached the final stages of setting, the darkness crowding the streaks of crimson and orange and snuffing out the last of today to get ready for the morning to come. It was still warm, made bearable by the breeze that drifted in from the west. You walked absentmindedly with Billy to his car, side by side like no time had ever passed and waited until he was by the driver's door to hand him the rest of your salty snack before wishing him a good night.

“Hey, wait, you have a ride?” He rested against the car with one arm, the other digging into the pocket of his jacket to grab his cigarettes and lighter.

“I walked here, Sara was supposed to meet me at my apartment and we were going to head here together since my place is just around the block.” Your thumb pointed behind you to show the direction you'd be heading and to give him some reassurance that you didn't have far to go to make it home.

Billy opened his mouth to say something. He'd wanted to insist on a ride, tell you to be safe, ask if you were sure; instead he pursed his lips together and brought the lighter to the end of his cigarette and just nodded.

“I’m glad I was able to see you one more time before you left.” He wondered if you could feel the way his body froze when you wrapped your arms around his frame to give him a quick hug, thanking him for watching the movie with you, or the way it relaxed as you did that same little squeeze right before you let go to say goodbye, just as you’d done since you were kids. He thinks you did when you turned back around for another hug, a fast one, clinging to him for the briefest second almost like you were making up for the goodbye you never got to have back then.

If he thought back far enough, he could remember what it was like before, before his mom had left, before Hawkins, before the mind flayer.

You’d been together from the start from kindergarten with Mrs.Mayo, where he’d been paired with you as your walking buddy. Your school in California had been a lot different from the one in Hawkins– rows of buildings connected like a strip mall with no hallways. The school had been fenced in of course, but they had you pair up for safety anyway and when it came time to take you to the cafeteria or the play area they’d line you up and have you walk side by side.

Everyday, multiple times a day he’d find himself next to you, marching in rows to get lunch or visit the library, but he never minded, you were nice, you liked to talk and you always shared your animal crackers on the walk back from the elementary rooms to the preschool and kindergarten area.

It didn't take long for his teacher-assigned partner to become his best friend.

He’d spend recess walking on the wooden beams that lined the wood chipped area of the playground, balancing on the thin strips and pretending you were on a pirate ship and walking the plank. Billy remembered taking turns with Selena, you and Andrew on the swings, competing to see who could get the highest before jumping off and bragging that he’d be able to swing high enough that he could loop around the metal bar. He’d hog one of the swings for the entire play time trying to soar over the top but had never managed to.

Even in class you’d been together, your desks arranged into pods of four that made up the ‘blue group’ were pushed flush together, blue construction paper taped to the forward facing side with your names written in your own messy scrawls. No matter how far back he’d thought, there was never a moment you weren’t a part of, something he’d only realized after replaying your night at the movies together.

It was an easy friendship to have.

It became a hard friendship to maintain.

You weren’t oblivious, he knew you weren’t, you’d seen the change. You heard the way playground roughhousing had evolved into high school rumors of vandalism, hookups and bullying, but Billy was still Billy, at least to you and when the lunch bell rang, he'd wait around your classroom and walk side by side with you to his car where you’d pile in with a mixture of his friends and whatever girl he was with that week.

“Let’s get Jack in the Box, those tacos have been calling my name since the second period.” Sid had one arm looped around your shoulder and one around the driver's seat where he was patting Billy’s chest to emphasize his need for the fast food tacos. “I’m sure our girl here could go for some onion rings.” He jostled your shoulder knowing if anyone could sway the vote for today’s lunch excursion that it’d be you.

“Curly fries do sound really good.” His eyes were on you, visible through the rear view mirror.

“Can we get McDonald’s, Billy? I’d die for a milkshake right now.” The front seat was occupied by Amanda who was using the visor’s mirror to swipe on some lip gloss.

With one hand on the wheel and the other on Amanda’s thigh, Billy backed out of his parking spot, the rubber of his wheels leaving black marks on the pavement as he peeled out “A milkshake sounds good to me.”

“Come on man, even she wanted Jack in the box.” Defeated Sid slumped into his seat, a pout on his face at the lost opportunity to fix his midday cravings.

“An apple pie sounds good, too.” Your hand found Sid’s arm to give it a squeeze.

“I didn’t want an apple pie.” Through the mirror you could still feel his gaze, heavy, intense, and entirely focused on you as the car sped down the road towards town.

At the time it’d seemed like a good idea, in his mind at least, to push you away. It’d be easier for you both if you were the one who chose to walk away, he’d had plenty of experience with that and he knew if that was how things ended, he would at least be ok.

You’d known he was going to move, a few of your friends had gotten together in the dried creek behind his house to get wasted, say goodbye with jokes and talk about how he was planning to blow that ‘Midwest shithole’ that Susan had found for them in the middle of nowhere. You’d all stayed well past the setting sun, watching the running oranges and red dampen into a star-smattered sky while passing around the cheapest bottle of vodka that Wayne had been able to get his hands on.

The burn of the cheap booze sat in your throat even after the bottle had been handed from you to Billy to Wayne then to Sid, the bitter taste masked only by the bottle of apple juice you’d been nursing on the side.

“This year is going to blow without you man. Why’d your sister have to go try and run away like that?”

“She’s just a kid.” You defended.

“She’s not my sister.” His first answer overlapped your own. “She’s not my sister.” The second a much firmer response.

“Right, sorry man. I’m just bummed you’re leaving.” Sid raised his hands in defeat and the stereo pausing before switching to the following song, Rock you like a hurricane, was like an awkward punctuation to the tense conversation.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be back here the day I turn eighteen. There’s no way I’m staying in that backwoods hell.” A breeze kicked up, warm but with the barest whispers of the impending winter, and you’re hit with the scent of cigarettes, liquor and cologne.

“Hey, Billy!” A little further down the dried creek Amanda calls out, she’s got a bottle of something brown clutched in her hand and two of her friends flanking her on either side.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Billy’s grin is wolfish when he pats his leg to invite her to sit on his lap, the excuse of there being nowhere else to sit leaving his mouth before she could make her way to the over crowded couch.

Things picked up from there, a bottle being passed between friends turned into more cars pulling up and beers being handed out as people clapped Billy on the back and told them they’d miss him, plans for the following summer already being made with liquor fueled optimism.

It was around three when people begrudgingly began to make their way home, designated drivers towing their drunken friends into their cars where they’d shout a final goodbye over the idling engines and milling people to Billy who just waved them off in favor of sucking face with Amanda.

“Hey man, we’ve gotta get home. My mom gets up at five and if I’m not home she’s gonna ship me off to Indiana with you.” Wayne stood behind the couch, fingers gripping the backrest and shaking it to get the pair's attention.

“I’m a little occupied.” Amanda’s lips stayed busy against his cheek as Wayne continued to whine about Sid being too drunk to drive them home.

“School starts in a couple hours, Billy. We could really use a ride home.” He didn’t respond to you at first, instead tilting his head so Amanda could continue to lather him with attention.

“Come on man.” Wayne shook the back of the couch hard enough it rattled you as well to no response other than a middle finger in his face. “Why don’t you try, Honey? He likes you better.”

“It is getting really late, Billy, would you mind taking us home?” Billy’s head lolled to the side and for a few seconds you felt like he was scrutinizing you, his blue eyes hardened for the briefest moment before softening and ultimately shifting to annoyance.

“Let’s go.” He patted the side of Amanda’s hip to tell her to hop off. “I’ll be back, Honey, wait for me here. Let’s make this quick, I have better things to do than drive you three home.”

“Told you he’d do it if you asked.” Wayne’s breath reeked of cheap beer when he leaned in to try to whisper that to you but the words simply went in one ear and out the other, just barely registering in the back of your mind.

He’d called her Honey.

He’d called her Honey and that shouldn’t have bothered you, but it had, more than the cold shoulder he’d been giving you for the past two months. It was a sting, sharp and quick, like the jab of a needle to see how pleased he was when she smiled at the nickname he’d only ever used on you. That had been your name since you were small, it was what everyone had called you, and it had never been all that special, not until it was given to someone else.

Sid’s house was closest and it took both Wayne and Billy to nearly drag him into the house, he’d been well past drunk and found the entire thing funny as the two wrestled him into a standing position so they could get him to walk with them. Wayne was next, a lot more sober than Sid, he offered Billy an arm around the shoulder squeeze and a “Keep in touch man.” Before he was off to climb in through his window.

When he’d pulled up to your house you didn’t reach for the handle, instead turning in your seat to face him. “Did you want to-“

“I’ll stop by tomorrow before I go.” He didn't miss the way your smile faltered as he said that.

“Promise you won’t forget me in the chaos of the morning before you go?”

“I won’t forget you, I promise.” His arm twitched against the back of your headrest where it lay, the habit of you hugging him before leaving his car ingrained into him. It was a small movement unnoticed by you, but a moment of weakness to him to see that he’d been expecting, wanting, that last hug.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Silly Billy.” The nickname got a smile out of him, the first one he’d directed at you that night

“Bye, Honey.”

The next time you see him, you had ended up missing the bus by a few minutes, the fading red of the tail lights grew dimmer as they ventured further into the night. The heavy rain obscuring them and your hope of making it home far quicker than it should have on a summer night like this. It was warm at least, so it could definitely be worse, you reassured yourself, the air stifling despite the waters rushing down your face in rivulets and drenching your uniform with each trudging step forward, it could be winter.

Home was easily more than an hour and a half walk that you weren’t willing to take at this time of night, and the diner’s doors were locked until Sabino made his way in the next morning. A hotel would be too expensive so you turn to walk towards the edge of town hoping that Marie would be home and not at her night shift at the nursing home.

“Get in.” The roar of an engine reaches you before the lights do, muted by the downpour that had left you soaked to the bone and ready to throw down the fifty dollars for the cherrywood hotel that would assure you a bed and a shower in the next few blocks, even if it would be for less than eight hours. Your body tensed for the second it took you to process that the car that had pulled to the stop beside you was the same bright blue Camaro that had left the diner a few hours before you had and once it sunk in who the furrowed brow and rumbling voice belonged to you were more than eager to climb into passenger seat and melt into the leather interior that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and cologne. “What the hell are you doing out here, you’ll get hit in this weather.”

“I missed the bus, a table of six walked in right before closing and I just got out.” Water still drips from your hair and lingeres on your lashes before splashing onto the seat belt you were strapping across your chest. “I was heading to a coworkers to see if I could spend the night.”

A cigarette stayed tucked between pinched lips while Billy exhaled a sigh,he’d gone straight to the laundromat after grabbing a burger to go and had spent the last two hours on a hard plastic chair waiting for his clothes, which were all crammed in his back seat, to be done. “I’ll give you a lift, you still staying on Lakeshore?”

“Are you sure? It’s a little out of the way.”

“I was heading that way, I’m staying with an old friend until I find a place of my own.” The key with the tag ‘Cherrywood Room 218’ was burning a hole into his back pocket at the lie.

Billy’s knuckles were white, both hands wrapped tightly on the wheel with his thumb tapping against the hard plastic, the sound of the heavy rain pounding the top of his car had muddled with his racing thoughts of what to say until it was a cacophony of white noise that spurred on his anxiety. He’d gotten this far, taken years to heal, made it back home and was seated by you. He knew what he wanted next but being here alone with you had him feeling like he had when he moved away when he was seventeen, unable to express what he was feeling. It boiled his blood to feel helpless in a situation.

“You’re staying?” Just two words, spoken in no special way, warms him, stoking a growing feeling that you’d been feeding with each interaction, with each touch and act of compassion. He knew that he had a lot to fix, and that you weren’t the answer to how he would do that, but you were an ember, crackling quietly as a source of comfort he’d never known before, creating cracks in the wall he’d hastily boarded his heart up with all those years ago when his mom had left.

“I’m sticking around for a while. This place feels like home, you know?” He’d have to break the rest down himself, take steps to the life he knew he wanted, but he had a foundation, a place that wanted him.

His grip on the wheel loosens, the tension from just minutes prior lifting with the contended hum you answered with as if you had just given him permission to allow himself to want to stay.

The drive passes quickly after that, with your head rested against the window watching the rain race against the chilled pane of glass and the both of you wrapped up in your own thoughts, neither of you seeming to realize you’d made it to your driveway until the car went from smooth cement to the crunching of your gravel driveway.

You linger in the car for a minute, your hand on the handle of the door steeling yourself to be drenched again. “Thanks for the ride, Billy.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m staying just a few minutes from here.” Again the key feels more present in his pocket, reminding him of the can of worms he was opening by allowing himself to take this time with you.

“I’m glad you’re sticking around, senior year just wasn’t the same without you around, I missed having you there.” The volume of the rain increases as you crack open the door. “Thanks again for taking me home, the next time you come into the diner, desserts on me.”

“Take this.” Before you’d fully opened the door Billy shrugs his coat off, the same brown leather one he’d had since you were fourteen, to hand to you, his favorite one he’d never let anyone else wear, let alone borrow before tonight. He lingered for a bit, watching you run the short distance to your front door with his coat held above your head, the leather he’d taken such care of getting drenched to spare you from getting any wetter and only backing out of the drive once he could see the light spilling from your living room as you walked into your apartment.

Any plans he’d thought of having for the following day were forgotten as he decides that pancakes sound perfect for tomorrow’s breakfast.

“Good morning and welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress today.” It was early, the gray of the sky muddling into the blue of early dawn, but you were wide awake, the smile on your face genuine as you greeted the third table of the morning.

“I was in green all day.” Jackson is already hard at work on his newest masterpiece, the blue crayon running against the paper to fill the sky like he was in a race against time to complete it.

You glanced at his grandmother for context and she explains that they had a chart for behavior, green was good, yellow was for needing a little extra direction, and red meant they'd been having a hard day.

“Well it sounds like you’ve earned yourself a treat, I'll be sure to tell our cook to make your pancakes extra special. After all, it's not often we get someone who managed to stay in green all day.” The boy beams at you, obviously enjoying the praise and the promise of an extra special breakfast for his good behavior at the daycare. He’d always been a good kid, and you were happy to celebrate that, but you were especially proud at how he’d been so excited to tell you about his accomplishments.

Helen grabs you the moment you put his order in with Sabino. “I’ve got another one for you, honey, Chelsea’s running late again.” The pause and pointed look before she said again was telling. Chelsea being on time was more unlikely than snow in December, but at least she always showed.

You could just make out the mess of blonde curls over the high back of the booth, styled to perfection but made to look effortlessly natural. “Welcome to Cecil’s, I’ll be your waitress this morning. Can I get you started with some coffee?”

Billy looked at ease, he almost always did, one arm tossed over the back of the booth and a bored look on his face. His jaw is tense, a nervous tick he remedied by placing an unlit cigarette between his lips.

The filter between his lips being crushed when he offered a tight lipped nod and slid the still upside down ceramic cup to you.

He could swear the sun broke through the clouds at the same time you smile, maybe even believes it only had because you did if it hadn’t been so embarrassing, dusting the gray expanse with gold to match the warmth of your grin as you rattled off the specials of the day even though you both knew he was getting the peanut butter banana nut pancake stack you’d promised at the movies.

Your pencil, a stumpy little thing just barely long enough for you to hold, had been scribbling on the notepad you carried in your apron, writing an order down he hadn't placed before you had even finished telling him about the soup of the day. “I’ll be right back with your food, Billy.”

Wafts of smoke start to lazily float up the moment you walk away, twirling in wispy gray lines before dissipating into the air. Billy isn’t sure if it’s the rush of nicotine or the comfort of routine but he can feel his muscles losing the tension he hadn’t realized they’d been holding since he walked into the diner, the simple act of doing so being a submission on his end. With all of your prior meetings being on his terms and in his places of comfort walking into a place that was so inanely you felt almost vulnerable.

Less than ten minutes had passed when you were back at his booth with a plate stacked high in one hand and a steaming mug in the other one, the look on your face is all too pleased as you set down a mountain of banana nut pancakes smothered in peanut butter and drowned in syrup. The sight of it alone is enough to make Billy’s teeth ache.

“I brought you some cocoa too.” The mug you hand to him was full to the brim almost to the point of overflowing and topped with a more than generous handful of mini marshmallows the top of which were sprinkled in cinnamon.

Exactly the way he’d taken it since you were both small and had spent your first holiday season together.

The house smelled of chocolate melting into perfectly buttery cookies, splashes of vanilla and sugar settling the house into a holiday haze. On the couch next to you Billy was curled up into himself, half of the blanket you were under was draped over him as you both nursed the cups of cocoa his mom had made you while you attempted to warm up from the day you’d spent playing outside.

On the tv a year without Santa was playing and Billy’s mom sang along to the tune of Heat Miser’s song, your own mother alongside her working on cookies for when Santa made his way here the following morning.

Billy’s attention is ripped away from the screen when he hears your mom calling a name, a name he doesn’t know, and you hop off the couch with your cocoa still in hand to go help her with the cookies.

“Your name isn’t Honey?” The revelation was clearly a shock, his eyes were large, comically so as he repeated the name to himself, your actual name feeling weird and clunky on his tongue after having known you as Honey for the past three months at school.

“You thought my name was Honey?” Billy could feel his face burn at the giggles that caused, both yourself and the two moms in the kitchen cooing over the fact that he’d been calling you Honey this whole time.

“That’s what the teacher always calls you.” He could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping past his face to his ears.

“That’s silly, Billy, that’s just a nickname.”

“Yeah, well…I like that name better.” He took a hasty swallow of cocoa to cover his blunder and coughed as it went down the wrong pipe, the whole ordeal only bringing more attention to him.

“That’s ok, you can call me Honey.”

“Thanks Princess.”

“I'll be back in a bit to see how you’re enjoying the food.” Not if he was enjoying the food, just how he was enjoying it. Billy had been known, by those close to him, to have a notoriously big sweet tooth, he’d done well to reign it in, instead focusing on working out and keeping in shape but he’d never been able to say no to baked goods especially if it was you who was offering them.

When you make your way back around to him, coffee pot in hand to refill his cup, he’d already polished off the cocoa and a third of the pancakes.

“How’s the food?” You spare a cautious glance around to the other diners to assure they were all content before setting the pot onto the table and sliding into the seat opposite him, the worn leather making you scoot more than glide across the bench seating to be directly across from him.

You’d asked him right as he’d taken a bite of his pancakes and he did his best to say it was delicious around the mouth full of sticky cakes which only earned a laugh from you and a glare from him.

“Are you on break?” Billy takes a quick sip of the too hot coffee to help clear the food in his mouth so he could talk to you.

“Not for another few hours but I’ve checked all my tables and can spare a few minutes.” Your hand reaches across the table to steal his fork and uses it to cut a chunk of his pancakes that you steal a bite of. “We really do have the best pancakes.”

“Do you always steal your customers' food?”

“Only the ones I really like.” It was an old game between you two, shared food, stolen food, some days he’d steal your cherries and you’d take his pickles anytime his food came with them. Seeing you slip into your old role so easily brings a smile to his face.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” It slips out before he’d wanted it too, the words leaving his mouth before they get a chance to fully form in his head. He’d been wanting to ask you,in a far less crass and direct way but the question lingered in the air unable to be taken back.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah princess, a date.” It was already out there so he doubles down, layering his voice with that thick charm that he’d practiced, and perfected, over the years. Leaning in, Billy let the knuckles of his right hand brush against the top of your folded hands that were resting flat on the table, you were soft against his own battle scarred skin.

“Sure Billy, I’d love to.” It was a fast answer, instant really, an eager response and the matching grin you held on your face has him retracting his hands back to his own side, both of them landing in his lap before they slid down to his knees so he’d have a place to rest them. What did he normally do with his hands after someone had said yes? “I'm free. Friday night.”

You weren’t but nothing worth doing was going to be happening on a Wednesday evening and trading a shift to soothe the fluttering in your stomach that had been building since your first run in in the diner parking lot seemed worth it.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Are you just going to wait by the window?” You’d been hovering in Lisa’s peripheral for the last ten or so minutes, alternating between checking the window by the door and double - then triple checking that you still looked ok in the little circular mirror that was older than you were that was pinned to the wall. “You’re going to pace a hole into our carpet.”

“It’s been awhile.”

“That you’ve been on a date or that you’ve been with Billy?” You held her full attention now, Lisa’s body twisted on the couch so she could rest her torso on the arm rest and watch you with an amused gaze. The name ‘Billy’ came out in a lilting way telling you she already knew the answer to your question.

“I’ve missed him, y’know?” You wouldn’t say a piece of you had been missing, but his absence had been felt. It was felt in the way you’d hear a car peeling down the street and your head would still turn, always expecting to see the blue build of his Camaro and to this day you still get an extra cherry on your milkshakes because he’d always stolen the one off of yours for years. Having him gone was like losing your favorite sweater or chapstick, you know it’s gone yet you still find yourself searching for its comfort.

Lisa’s eyes study your face for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time but in reality had only been a few seconds before she turns back around on the couch sliding down into the divet she’d made to continue watching whatever had been holding her interest before. “Make sure he has you home before midnight.”

This time when you heard the roar of an engine pulling into the spot in front of your apartment you know that as soon as that door opened you’d find the perfectly polished metal of Billy’s 1979 Chevy and Billy himself on the other side waiting for you.

You can smell it the moment you’d climb into his car, a warm, greasy, salty scent that makes your mouth water filling the air. Nestled between your two seats you could see a white bag, still warm enough you could feel the heat radiating from it, with bold red lettering and the paper turning translucent from the grease seeping through it from the fast food inside. “I haven’t had this in years.”

Billy had his foot on the gas the moment your seatbelt clicked into place, the music turning up as he turned onto the street and began to drive you towards the edge of town.This time settling into the passenger seat felt right, like sliding on your favorite sweater that you’d worn over in time, like it was your seat again.

Small talk fills the short ride, your excitement over him being there and his slanted half smile coming easily, like no time had ever been spent apart, your comments being met with sarcastic banter and teasing remarks. The drive ended up going quickly and finishes with him pulling into the empty parking lot of a park you’d often pass by while running errands, the dark stretch of playground and grassy fields being illuminated by the pale moon overhead and the filtered yellow of the lampposts littered around the area.

The two of you sit on the play area, bypassing the splintering picnic tables to sit on the faded black plastic of the swings, the chains digging into the meat of your palms as you held onto them to help keep you in place while your legs folded in and out to get just enough momentum going for a light swing.

“This seemed so much bigger when we were younger.” You can still see his blonde curls leading the way around the playground, frizzy from playing in the hot summer sun, and still hear his voice excitedly telling you about the seven foot wave his mom had let him surf on his own over summer break.

Beside you the paper bag crinkles as Billy digs out the food he’d gotten for your date and you’re handed two tacos and a large curly fry. “Haven’t had this since junior year, there’s nothing in that shithole but cows and corn.”

“You still remember my order.” The swing drags to a stop when you push your heels into the soil and wood chips below, two deep divots forming in the material at the base of your heels as your movements halted.

You go for the curly fries first and the memories of lunch runs and late night drives hits you before the salt registers on your tongue, the way he’d always grumble about crumbs in his car negated by the salty treats he always seemed to have around for you.

Billy had always been unapologetically himself but it was only when you’d begun reminiscing on both your shared past and the years apart did you truly get to see him as he’d been in your memories, eyes bright and that deep hearty laugh of his twisting your stomach in knots that only his smile eases.

The rest of the night passes like that, stories shared between bites of food, jokes that weren’t nearly as funny as the way you two were laughing at them made them out to be and every so often his knuckles brush against your own as the swings sway with your movements. You stay in the park until what you could only guess was well past the curfew Lisa had given you, the cars having long since cleared the road.

It wasn’t until his car pulls into your parking lot that he kisses you, there was lull in conversation as you sat in the passenger seat with neither of you in a rush for the night to truly be over. You’d just finished telling him a story about graduation and how Sid and Wayne had almost made you miss your turn to walk and you have the biggest smile on your face.

You were always smiling, sure in him as a person in a way it took life-altering events for him to be in himself, even now as his fingers hesitated moving gently against the swell of your cheek. He’d been good at this before, it came naturally to him; a flash of a smile, a compliment here, a light touch there and whoever he was with was putty.

When his lips brushed against yours it was light, a soft glide of his lips that made your lips tingle. The initial kiss was enough to make him hungry for more, his own slightly chapped lips pressing against your own more eagerly, the hand that was just barely ghosting against your skin now cradled your face, holding it firmly to keep you in place as his lips moved against your own. The kiss had a sense of urgency to it, longing and needy but with no end goal in mind, he took and you were happy to give.

You couldn’t be sure how long it lasted,was it a long kiss? Short? Time had slipped away, moving around the two of you, just for this one moment, the moment everyone but the two of you had seen coming since fall of ‘72 when you’d intertwined your little hands for the first time and instantly bonded.

Billy broke away first, his lips kiss swollen and slick, but he remained close, his half lidded eyes, normally so icy and sharp had warmed to a softer shade of blue as they stayed level with your own, drinking in your own dazed but entirely pleased expression and only darting down to watch the way you bit the corner of your lip, chewing on it with a giddy smile.

“Wow.” He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that, your genuine response simple but so endearing, that same sunshine bright smile on your face as he laughed at your awe-struck answer to your very first kiss together.

“Wow?” He was sure you would be able to warm up even the dreariest of Hawkins winters with the way you were looking at him, eye bright and taking him in like he was the one who could thaw a cold Midwest January day with just a look.

“I’ve been hoping you’d do that since you drove me home back in August.” There was a breathlessness to your voice with the kiss itself not being too heated, but the thrill of how perfect it felt to have him mould against you stealing the air from your lungs all the same.

You would have stayed there all night if you hadn’t had a shift the following morning but the late hour didn't stop you from stealing one more quick kiss before bidding him good night.

“I’ll see you in the morning Honey.” This time as you climb out of the car and he promises to see you the following morning you know he’ll be there.

Special thanks to so many people first @jo-harrington who is the reason I wrote this. @the-unforgivenn who has read this enough times im sure she could recite it by memory. @ghost-proofbaby @hellfire--cult (who also made the amazing banner and divider) @munson-blurbs @dr-aculaaa who all helped plot and cheer me on every step of the way. I’m so appreciative of you all 💕

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #i honestly consider this my first full real fic #i hope you guys like it

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

"Time & the Trickster" A Loki/Doctor Who crossover

Chapter 6: Two If By Sea

Loki makes a mistake that costs you dearly. You find the clock ticking as your one chance to get out of Boston is put in jeopardy by a bad decision, and you're the only hope Loki has left to save the day.

CHAPTER WARNING: Reader has another panic attack

Previous Chapter · Next Chapter MASTERLIST

You awoke to a delicious smell wafting from the bedside table. Blinking groggily back into the Land of the Conscious, your eyes took a minute to focus themselves. 

“I found breakfast,” said a soft, gentle voice. Loki’s. “I thought I’d do the work and allow you to sleep. You looked rather peaceful, and I know peace has been scarce the past few days. I didn’t want to jeopardize any fleeting chance you had for some.” 

The mammoth structure now fully visible before you had your wordless mouth hanging open. It was nothing short of a tower of varied breakfast (and…non-breakfast?) foods all in one styrofoam tray. The piece of edible art looked entirely too fancy to be housed in such plebeian packaging. 

“Is…that…caviar?” you mumbled. 

“The owner of the diner said it was a…Mermaid Benedict? For such an un-magicked world, I was surprised to learn that you have mermaids…and that you consume their eggs!”

“Whu…what diner?”

“The...uh…Black Sail, I think?”

You shot up upon hearing the name of the most notorious breakfast spot in town. The Black Sail, famous for how A-listers frequently patronized the place for brunch when they were passing through town. The Black Sail, famous for home fries that cost more than a monthly mortgage payment. 

“Awww geez, how much was it?”

Loki shrugged as he came to sit beside you on the bed, throwing a paper napkin over your lap, clearly unable to sense the less-than-pleased tone of your voice. 

“Ninety credits? I simply gave them what was left in the wallet.”

“WHAT?!” You jumped up, shocked. “Loki, tell me this was all you got!”

He shrugged. “I thought Joey would return with more money, so I…got one for each of you.” 

You nearly passed out. “Oh…oh…Loki…that was really all that was in the wallet, wasn’t it?”

He nodded silently, his face unyielding. “I didn’t realize. I…oh…”

Your anxiety disorder was beginning to give birth to itself again, and the realization that Loki had mistakenly spent your entire cash stash on two overstuffed seafood brunch towers was triggering you again. 

Before the heat in your face could spread throughout your chest, you felt a cold hand on yours, gently pulling you back to the bed. 

“Joey isn’t here, but I am…”

Somehow, the mantra worked, and your tremors were already beginning to ebb. You began rhythmically sucking in breaths and letting them out, not realizing that Loki was watching you with concern and mirroring your breaths to a lesser degree. 

“Norns, Y/N, I shouldn’t have, and I’m truly--”

You threw up a quiet hand, not needing his frantic apologies to add to the tension in the room. Instead, after signaling for him to be silent, you gripped his hand tightly and continued grounding yourself, trying to bring yourself around without your brother’s help. 

After several minutes of silence, your senses slowly crawled back, although your head was roaring. Loki suggested that you have water, but you disagreed.

“Let’s just eat these,” you countered as you indicated the pair of expensive meals beside you, “May as well,” you sighed sadly. 

You hated how you were stranded in Boston without a penny, your brother missing, and your teenage obsession putting his arm around you with concern in his eyes at your near-breakdown. How FUCKING embarrassing! Could things get worse?

No, because now you not only had no money for a boat, but now you had no money for a train back to New York, nor any for a few extra nights in the hotel. Things COULDN’T get any worse! 

As you and Loki ate in awkward silence, Joey finally returned, beaming. 

“Hey Sis, guess what?” he said, proud of something. You gave him an exaggerated questioning look to make up for the fact that you couldn’t reply with your mouth full of egg. “I got us a boat! No charge!”

You nearly spat the egg out, but Loki spoke for you: “No charge?”

Joey nodded. “Turns out, the guys Paulie knows owe him a solid, and he’s willing to cash it in for us!”

Finally managing to swallow, the large chunk of masticated food proving difficult to get past the back of your throat at first. “What’s the catch?” you asked. “There’s got to be one.” 

“We have to leave tonight, and we have to meet them at O’Paddy’s this afternoon, discreetly.” 

“I see,” you said with mild disappointment. So, you were going to have to do this illegally after all. But what choice did you have now with no money? You only had three days with the room, and admittedly, the idea of getting the hell out of Boston after only being here a day was appealing. 

Loki looked hopeful at the development, which was enough for you. You still felt a pang of guilt inside for making him worry, and for making him feel guilty about his screw-up. 

“Fine, but if they turn out to be Han Solo and Chewbacca, I’m leaving and taking a raft to London.”

For being a weekday evening, O’Paddy’s was quite crowded. A piano instrumental of ‘Come Out, Ye Black and Tans’ twinkled proudly from a small man playing in the corner, two older men sitting at a table nearby toasting the player with their beers. Several businessmen in half-discarded suits were complaining about their days at the close-end bar. A few college students circled around a basket of fried appetizers. A few older-looking guys were at the far end of the bar, eyes glued to the sports highlights playing on the mounted TV in the corner. Despite the no-smoking sign on the door, there was a vague odor of stale tobacco about the room. It was still only about 5pm, but the pub was so compact and tucked away from any light, it felt as if you would step outside to find it was midnight. 

It was the most Bostonian place you could imagine finding yourself in. 

“So, where are they?” you asked, leaning over and muttering in Joey’s ear, but he was already scanning the room. 

“They’re both in the booth over past the piano man,” Joey said, taking your hand. “C’mon, Sis!” 

You decided to take Loki’s hand with your free one. Not only to keep him close to you, but to help keep you strong in this claustrophobic place. With Joey guiding the three of you down the center of the pub, you hoped no one around would connect Loki’s face to anything familiar. 

As promised, past the piano player’s station was a corner booth tucked behind a wooden column. It looked a bit naturally suspicious to you, like on any other day this would be a mafia boss’ hangout spot. The energy of the spot was a bit off to you, but you still weren’t quite used to the environment. 

You just didn’t do well in small, crowded places. You actually hated bars. If you were to go out with your friends, you would have preferred getting drinks at a sit-down restaurant, where at least there would be room between tables to breathe a little. 

Sitting in the booth were a man and woman with the same fiery red hair. They looked at Joey with narrow, suspicious eyes. 

“You Joey?” asked the woman. 

Joey nodded. “Yeah, I’m Paulie Mac’s friend. This is my sister Y/N, and this is Lo…um…Lo…man.” 

You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t have come up with a fake name people will believe?

You extended your hand to shake each of theirs, and the man invited you to sit. “We got Irish nachos, they’ll be out any minute if you want.”

“No thanks,” you said, still somewhat full from the monster brunch you’d had earlier courtesy of Loki. 

“You’d probably better eat up, especially if we’re buying,” warned the woman, lowering her voice and leaning in over the table. “We don’t like weighing down the boat with a ton of unnecessary shit. It’ll be whatever you can throw in a microwave for the next few weeks.”

“Are you saying food is unnecessary?” you raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Yes, and so is this favor,” replied the man, which shut you up.

Joey threw up a hand. “Hey, be cool, it’s been an insane week for all of us. We’re all a bit defensive right now.”

After a waitress brought out a heaping plate of waffle fries loaded down with bacon, cheese, scallions, and sour cream, you got down to business, the noises from the piano player covering your scheming. 

Loki looked at you. “You should do as they say and at least try to have something.” He punctuated the gentle request by grabbing a large fry between two long, lean fingers, and slowly inserting it between his lips. You giggled when you saw that he’d left some cream on the corner of his lip. Being bold, you took a single finger and wiped it away softly. 

It’s not fair, he shouldn’t be this adorable, you moaned in your mind. The tender moment led to a look that you and Loki shared…one that sent your brain into a hot fuzz. 

You did as Loki suggested and followed suit, taking a plate and setting a small portion of the appetizer in front of yourself to satisfy him. Joey raised a curious brow before shrugging it off and moving on. 

“I’m Shane, and this is Carrie,” said the ginger man, indicating the snarky woman next to him. “Yes, we’re a couple, and no, we aren’t related. The hair’s just incidental.” 

Carrie supplemented him by adding, “Just so you know, we’re here because we smuggle things. The less you know beyond that, the better, but it’s how we know how to get past the Coast Guard.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” you asked. 

“Very delicately,” said Shane. “And tonight might be the worst night of the year to do this, but it may be our only shot--”

“--unless you want to hang out for another three weeks or so,” added Carrie, taking a waffle fry and nibbling on the corner. “But from what we’ve heard, time’s a factor here.” 

Loki took another piece for himself. “Why is it so difficult to move out tonight?” 

Carrie rolled her eyes. “The Coast Guard starts their annual drills offshore in the morning. It goes on for a while, but it makes getting into international water almost impossible without paperwork or clearance.”

Shane leaned back and crossed his arms. He had very large biceps that strained against his muscle shirt. “We have papers, but our boat isn’t exactly full of hiding places.” 

“And someone like Loman here might have trouble blending in anywhere we dock,” Carrie added. 

“Wait,” asked Loki, “You’re smugglers and yet your boat doesn’t have any hiding places?”

“Loman, it might be wise not to ask any unnecessary questions,” Shane warned. 

This did not satisfy the Asgardian. “Don’t talk to me like that--”

Carrie interrupted. “--are best hope is to leave after dark. Our boat is tied up at Dock 10. It’s about as far out of the way as you can get. The Coast Guard will begin drills at sunrise, but by then we should at least be beyond Halifax.” 

“Get to Dock 10 by no later than 10:30pm,” Shane instructed. “Don’t bring any big bags.”

“And we won’t wait for you if you’re late, either. We need to pick up a few things while we’re over in Europe, so we’re not up for negotiating our departure time.” 

“Understood,” said Joey. “We just need time to check out of our hotel room and pack.”

“Got that, Loman?” asked Carrie, eyeing Loki up and down for a moment too long, a moment that both you and Shane noticed with the same ire. “You don't seem particularly quick on the uptake.” 

The comment seemed to offend Loki, who looked at you and stood up without another word. “I’ll bring us a round of drinks,” he offered, his tone restrained. 

“How are you going to pay for that?” you asked, only to be ignored. 

Loki moved past the piano, not watching exactly where he was going. The musician happened to rise at the same time Loki stepped into his path, and as the God was much taller and heavier than the middle-aged mortal, it was the piano player who was knocked back, causing his arm to knock his tip jar off of the piano, sending it shattering on the wood floor. 

“WHAT THE HELL?” the man shouted, scrambling to his feet. 

Loki turned back and shrugged. “I didn’t see you there--”

“--well, you see me now, punk?” the irate, slightly-intoxicated man challenged, throwing a wild, unaimed fist in Loki’s general direction. It missed wide, but Loki had to lean back in order to avoid it, and that was enough for him to lower his eyebrows in a way that you were familiar with. 

He made that face while confronting Thor on Asgard. He made it again while fighting Malekith, Hela, and Thanos…

You cringed and grabbed Joey’s arm. “Oh shit, he’s going to--”

Loki flicked his wrist upward instinctually, which, of course, produced nothing (although the time stone in his pocket began to twinkle). When he tried it twice more to no avail, Loki responded with physical defense, shoving the man back with a firm palm on his shoulder. 

“HEY! HANDS OFF ME, ASSHOLE!” hollered the man, drawing the attention of several more patrons, as well as the bartender. The second punch got closer to Loki’s face. 

Joey stood up and ran over. You were hoping he intended to pull Loki away from the upset man. Instead, he grabbed an empty beer bottle on his way over and merrily chucked it at the piano player’s head. “Fuck you!” he shouted.

Jesus Christ, Joey! Not now!

Turning back, you saw Shane and Carrie getting up, putting a ten dollar bill on the table, and moving aside as Joey and Loki began to tag-team the drunk piano man. Other patrons were leaping on top of all three of them while the bartender made for the phone on the wall behind him. 

Carrie looked particularly angry at the rowdy turn of events. “You’re going to fucking get us arrested, you clowns!”

“10:30pm, and not a second later,” Shane confirmed before leading Carrie away discreetly. 

“I hate you.” 

Here you were for the second time this week, staring at Joey and Loki from behind a set of metal bars. At least Loki had pants on this time. 

It was 8:45pm, less than two hours before your rendezvous, and two-thirds of your party were stuck in a drunk tank so far away from the bay that if you left and ran without stopping or grabbing your belongings at the hotel, you would hardly make it. 

And that still wasn’t the most dire part of your situation: you couldn’t make bail. 

“...sorry, Sis,” mumbled Joey, his head down. 

“Sorry? SORRY?!” you screamed, pacing back and forth in front of the bars. “You do realize that this is over now, right? All of this! All of this work and traveling is for nothing!

“How do you mean ‘over’?” Loki asked with concern. 

You looked at him with utter disbelief. “I HAVE NO BAIL MONEY! FOR EITHER OF YOU!” Your stress was different this time, manifesting in tears and choppy sobs. “I can’t save you, and time is almost up! Unless we somehow break you out in the next few minutes--”

Loki ran over and grabbed your arm as you walked past. “Listen to me, Y/N,” he cut you off with a low voice, “that is exactly what you need to do!”

You looked at him through your frantic tears, shaking your head nervously. “No…I can’t!” 

“Y/N!” Loki’s voice was soothing and melodic as he pulled you up to the bars before reaching through to cup your face in his palm. “I trust you more than anyone in the Realms right now. I know you can do this. I believe in you.”

You sucked in a desperate breath. “You’re just saying that to get me to be brave enough to do it.”

His smile was sweet, with a glint of mischief in his eye. “And is it working?”

“Dammit, Loki, yes!” you whispered, pressing your face against the bars and meeting Loki’s lips with yours. You only took a second to deliver the kiss, but you would have moved heaven and earth to make it an eternal moment. 

You remained close to the bars as you withdrew your lips. “I…I think they keep the keys behind the guard’s desk. Beyond the metal door.” 

“Cause a distraction so that you can get to that desk, Y/N, and do whatever it takes. Think about what I would do, and do it fast,” Loki instructed. 

You nodded. Loki took a finger and tapped it three times against  the tarot pendant you still wore about your neck.  “Remember, you are my hope. You are my star.” 

How could you possibly accomplish this magnificently illegal task when all you wanted to do was melt through the bars and fall into his arms? Nevertheless, you managed to pull yourself away and spin around on your heels. 

“Go get ‘em, Sis, and hurry!” Joey encouraged you from behind. You fought the urge to flip him off as you sprinted away. After all, he chose to escalate the fight in the bar and turned a scrap into a 911-worthy breakup. 

You were fast thinking when you had to be, but when it came to improvising jailbreaks, you came up short. Nervously, you wondered what kind of distraction you could possibly cause while also going for the keys. You kept running down the long line of holding cells until you turned a corner, running further down until you came by the only other cell with occupants. 

Two skinny middle-aged tweakers were leaning against the wall. They barely twitched when you came up to the door. 

“What you want?” asked the taller of the two, his Bostonian accent so thick you could barely understand it.

“I need you two to freak out so much that the guards all come over here,” you asked, immediately realizing how stupid it sounded. 

“Uh, why should we do that?” asked the other. 

Your head spun. Loki had advised you to do something he would do…

What WOULD Loki do? Ugh, sexy, sexy Loki…

You suddenly thought of Danielle from the bookstore, and how easily Loki had managed to charm her out of nearly a thousand dollars. You bit your lip and couldn;t believe what you were about to do, but only one course of action came to mind, and you got the feeling it was absolutely something that Loki would do. 

“Because I’ll let you look at these!” 

You flipped up your shirt, revealing your simple white bra that you’d had so long, it was a cup size too small. As a result, it really deepened your cleavage, making them look bigger than perhaps they were. 

“Ooooh shit, Bill!” hooted the taller druggie. “She must really need our help!”

The other one chuckled and whistled, slowly getting up from the wall and exaggerating a bow. “My lady, we’re at your service! What can we do for ya?”

“Freak the fuck out, and do it fast!” you implored, rolling your shirt back down. The two men looked at each other and grinned at each other knowingly, showing off their decaying teeth. 

“My lady, you got it.” 

You immediately took off down the hall and snuck around the far corner. From there, you could look one way and see the guard desk, and turn your head the other to have a glimpse of the cell containing your two new allies. You began to hear snarls, screams, and garbled insults from the latter direction. The tweakers were already working. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” the guard on duty was getting up from his deck and peeking his head in your direction. 

You pointed frantically down the hall. “Those guys tried to grab me and now they’re--!”

The guard was already running off down the hallway past you. The scuffle in the cell beyond was turning physical. You wasted no time leaping behind the desk and shuffling through the four drawers. One was files, one was completely empty. 

The third one had several key rings stashed inside, all labeled sloppily with masking tape scribbled over in thick sharpie. You ran your fingers over every one, hoping to god one would be the correct key. 

“FUCK IT!” you grunted under your breath, scooping up every single one and taking off, deciding that you’d run out of time. 

The holding cells in this precinct were lined up in a circular hallway, so you were able to keep running to the left in order to make it back around to Loki and Joey, who were both gripping the bars and looking anxiously for you since the addicts began acting out their scuffle from further down the way.

“Quick, each of you take some, we need to do this fast,” you bade, handing several key rings to each of the men. 

You’d taken five rings in total. You tried yours first, and it didn’t even fit in the keyhole. Loki’s key didn't either. Luckily, Joey was able to cram the keyring he held inside before you needed to try the second key you held.

Everyone dropped their keys at once, and the bustling down the hall came to a stop. 

“Hey, what the--?”

“Shit!” Joey hissed. 

“Run!” you yelled, grabbing Loki’s wrist and practically dragging him behind you as you doubled back the other way in an effort to avoid the cops. 

You found an emergency exit door that led out behind the precinct, and while it instantly set off all of the fire bells in the building, you were able to slip down the street while the rest of the police were scrambling to look for you, as well as whoever pulled the alarm! 

While none of you knew particularly where you were going, you traced your way through downtown, heading for the harbor. It was difficult keeping a quick pace, as the nightlife was beginning to emerge from the shadows, crowding the sidewalks. It didn’t help that Boston roads were mapped out like a toddler’s drawing of a cloud. There was no grid, no numbered streets to gauge where in the area you were. 

You had no way to tell the time as you found the harbor and began counting the piers and dock numbers. “Now remember, it’s a 50-footer, so it’ll be small…” Joey huffed, out of breath as you jogged along in a sad attempt to pick up the pace.

After about 20 minutes stumbling northward along the shoreline, you finally found Dock 10, and Carrie was waving a flashlight, signaling you as you finally approached. 

“Dipshit!” she scowled. “You made us wait until the last minute!”

“What time is it?” Joey nearly spat as he doubled over in exhaustion. You’d never let go of Loki’s wrist, so as soon as you stepped onto the boat, you dropped it. 

“Literally 10:28,” Carrie let you know. “No, let’s get out of here, kids.” 

You could hear the vague sound of sirens growing closer as the yacht pulled out of the pier and began moving out to open sea. Whether or not they were looking for the three of you, you couldn;t possibly know. Still, the further you pulled away from land, the better, as far as you were concerned. 

“I’d go below and get right to bed if I were you, and be sure to turn the lights out right away,” Carrie said simply. “We could still hit the Coast Guard, and if we do, they might not ask to board if it looks like there’s just us.”

“I could sure use it. It;s been a long one, what with bar fights and jailbreak and--”

Joey cut off as he looked at the infuriated look on your face. “--and good night, Sis! Thanks for busting us out!” 

As he went down below deck, you were finally able to take a moment to calm yourself. Loki shuffled beside you. 

“You were fantastic,” he said to you quietly. “We’re on our way now, thanks to you.”

“I only did what you suggested,” you said modestly. 

“Thank you,” he answered, pulling you firmly into his arms and resting his head on top of yours.

While Loki looked absentmindedly at the shrinking lights of Boston Harbor,  your head was turned in the opposite direction, looking out ahead of you into the pitch-black ocean. 

Suddenly, you didn’t feel so well. 

Oof, this was a big chapter! Thanks for your continued support and reblogs! TAGLIST: @crashingwavesofeuphoria @kkdvkyya @red-shirt-mania @misschris1412 @salvinaa @marygoddessofmischief @spiderstyles04 @fireflymoonwitch @mochie85 @loz-3 @lcolumbia1988 @lokilurker @eleniblue @gruftiela @starkzdaughter @mrsbarnes-avenger @thedistractedagglomeration @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @holdmytesseract @itsthattimedarling @wolfsmom1 @scully2u @shinisenko @mischief2sarawr @ririsutty73 @lulubelle814 @meg81589 @gloriuspurposeposts @theonetruepotato87 @linllewellyn @wistfulclueless @etherealkistar @tinydancer40 @hardtravelerwizard-blog @fangirllanie @keegansakura @himek0fallenangel-blog @abeeigrl @theoraekenslover @halfbakedideas

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