𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖊𝖘 / 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂 !

⟶ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚. writing blog, run by manes ( 24, she/they, gmt ) . please don’t hesitate to reach out about indie writing or my ships, but please ensure you read my guidelines. open to discord/ooc chat on request !

* 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 ;

striker cannon ! 

jaden lapointe !

ender baptista !

sparrow moore !

fletcher liu !

honey ortega ! 

laika manes !

Everything about Christmas made Jovi practically radiate with joy.  She loved the way the world looked, with a soft dusting of snow, it felt magical, and beautiful.  While she wasn’t exactly accustomed to the cold, she had plenty of fluffy, pink jackets to choose from for any outing, and today was no different.  Her blonde curls were partly squished under a baby pink beanie, as she nearly skipped, arm in arm with Striker, through the Christmas markets.  “Hm?”  She paused to consider how exactly to answer his question.  “Well.  Usually my daddy, momma, sister and I get together Christmas Eve to do a family gift exchange, and then every other year we trade off which side of the family to visit for a few days.”  Both her mother and father’s side of the family lived within driving distance, thank God, or the task would be impossible.  “Turkey is mostly just a Thanksgiving food - we have a big ham dinner.”  She paused, cocking her head as snowflakes gathered in her hair.  “What do you and your brothers do?”

cuticles are picked to near bleeding . not the best example of nail care when you work in the industry , but juniper can’t help but feel a sense of guilt when it comes to the level of dad clingy-ness from their daughter . that if she hadn’t separated them , the cries to be held at all time by her ( very clearly ) favorite person , wouldn’t be so frequent . somehow jacie’s come to some form of separation anxiety all thanks to the way her mama handled the situation . she won’t come to admit that she feels to blame , not now . maybe it has nothing to do with that at all and is just a spoiled baby thing . who can be sure , anyway ?? “ my uterus is totally closed for business , but like , down the line , maybe having another would help with that . she’d have to learn to share . “ or putting her in daycare and exposing her to other littles , but that’s another topic the brunette remains tight-lipped about . 

“ that just sounds like being a real adult . same shit , different day . “ juniper admits with a shrug of her shoulders , speaking before really thinking about what jaden’s saying . she’s not about to wane when it comes to who is looking after jacie during the day , no matter how much it tugs at heartstrings . “ i mean , i don’t want you to be miserable day in and day out but … what else could you do ?? “ a barista is out of the question - there is no way she could see this man perfecting a latte heart , and any suggestions of working at the comic book store was a sure fire way to have all of their grocery money spent on action figures because of a really good employee discount . “ we’ve already crossed off the onlyfans idea , and i don’t think playing video games online counts as a real job , so don’t even suggest it . “

he supposed he didn’t mind it so much , having his chunky girl clambering all over him , tugging at his fingertips and chest hair as though she was attempting to tear strands from the root . this was what he had always wanted , after all ; the male had dreamed of his own little family , of being as much of an amazing dad as his father had been to him , and it was agony harbouring the knowledge that , instead of caring for his daughter , he could have killed her . “ i know , i know … no jaden’s allowed . “ jj mused , offering a weak smile at the prospect that illuminated as juniper continued . the last thing he expected was his fiancée — or whatever she was , now — to be the one to seriously suggest more children . clearing a lump in his throat , he responded , “ i’d like that , “ before chomping on another saucy forkful of ratatouille . 

“ she gets the clingy-ness from you too , are you kidding me ?! that’s not me . “ another forkful of food is shoved between lips, , attempting to curb face from twisting into knots with cringe at the sight of puréed fingers smearing against jaden’s t-shirt . if she wasn’t chewing , no doubt would come a lecture of how he should have wiped the baby down before plucking her and freeing chubby thighs from the seat . whose turn it was to do laundry next would come as no surprise .

“ that smile says absolutely not but nice try , daddy . ” evident in more than the smile , and the way an oversized bobble head cuddles into the chest of her father , smearing even more of her dinner across him .  " she’s going hard in her campaign to make sure she’s an only child . i’m pretty sure she has that complex-thing where kids are in love with the parent of the opposite sex . it’s like a psychology thing , or something . “ sure it was taught at some point in school , but considering juniper hardly ever paid attention , she could just be making it up .  ” anyway , “ fork swirls through the mishmash of veg on her plate . ” how was work today ?? “

the male hoped that they would somehow be able to sneak away from their needy , daddy-obsessed daughter for a moment of alone time that evening . they would likely end up with their pudgy girl starfished between them , but what could a guy do if he couldn’t dream ?? “ oh god , can you imagine her as an older sister to somebody ?? all that food is getting snatched away in an instant . people would think we’re starving the other one because jacie wouldn’t share her animal crackers . “ jaden would’ve adored a big , happy family , but perhaps it was easiest to stick with just the one ; he knew parenthood would be a handful , but wrestling with a daughter who was his biggest fan had been a challenge nobody expected .

no matter what they were considered now , it’d be a lie to say she hadn’t missed this . that the pads of calloused fingers didn’t send a wake of shockwaves down her spine , cropping skin with goosebumps at the simplest of touches beneath her ear . the lack of physical affection , the distance placed between them had been her choice , but she didn’t realize how much they needed that for their relationship to thrive . maybe the ratatouille would only be like sticking a bandaid on a scar in the wake of another storm attempting to capsize their ship , but at least it was a starting point .

jacie had almost been forgotten about , juni melting into the lap of lover . in a dizzy of tomato kisses until the little lip behind her began to quiver and form into the most dramatic of pouts . small whines encroaching on theatrical tear territory . veggie covered hands outstretch and reach for her dad who was receiving attention and affection from someone other than herself . how dare he . “ that’s because she’s obsessed with you . look . “ the tone of her retort almost hints at sounding jealous . “ my bad , girlfriend . he’s all yours . “ an eye roll flutters and spurs her body inching off jaden’s lap and back into her own spot at the table . “ i gave birth to the world’s biggest cockblock . i was totally going to say that i hadn’t specified where the reward kisses were going to be placed and some could be saved for later , buuuut , i bet little miss dramatic over here has a sixth sense and will lose her mind from her crib if i so much as bump shoulders with you later . “

their relationship hadn’t been easy by any means . it was as though they were navigating a slalom , no end to the hospitalisations and ill-health — new relationships were difficult at the best of times without dealings of a funky and impossible to predict brain . regardless , in that moment they were shrouded with the fog of euphoria ; perhaps those thinly shredded bell peppers had been laced with something or maybe , just maybe , they were beginning to see light peering through the trees . if all it took to keep their relationship safe was stewed vegetables , jaden would be hacking his fingertips apart every evening just for a shot at rekindling their love .

it’s principle that juniper chooses to quickly forget some aspects of their daughters likeness to her father — like , when little fingers pinch up dust bunnies to shove in her chunky cheeks , or the worms jaden mentions . she’s witnessed both of them eating some questionable things and totally deduces it to simply being a lapointe . although her own namesake hasn’t changed yet , she’s almost thankful for it . coming home to the effort of a home cooked meal from a man who didn’t cook was like unlocking a new love language . eyes shine with a glimmer of appreciation as he pushes a fork of vegetables past hesitant lips . 

 “ savant . i wouldn’t go that far . but , “ pause for a bigger bite taken , squeaking down an uneven slice of zucchini from the prongs . “ it’s— you really did good , babe . “ praises are accompanied by the woman rising from her chair and snaking into the small space in his lap between the dining table . a hand cradles a jaw , and in exchange for all his strenuous work in the kitchen are a couple of ratatouille flavoured kisses . ( @authatopia​ )

one day they’d all be lapointes . it ached his chest that they’d missed their chance , that an adorable little backyard wedding had been forcibly postponed , that there was a rift in their family when it came to their surnames ; if it had been up to jaden he would have proposed the night they met , ever the romantic ( perhaps to his detriment , in retrospect ) . he hoped this new change in tune would push them towards finally taking the leap and vowing to spend forever with one another . despite his shortfalls , the male was trying — clawing on his hands and knees , working his fingers to the bone — to make up for the times he had taken wrong terms and ended up staring at the back of juniper’s head instead of spending precious time together . 

contrary to what the initial relief might suggest ( and that subsequently following the aftermath of it all ) ,  the divorce period itself had been far from easy .  what had come to light basil wishes would have remained skulking in the dark ,  slinking from shadow to shadow ,  condemned to corners of eyes so that ,  should one face it head on ,  it had no choice but to vanish .  basil’s pretty sure the biggest heartbreak hadn’t been that of his parents ,  who’d shared the privilege of having priorly acclimatised themselves to the separation ,  but the choices either brother had been forced to make . 

he misses nate dearly . 

❝  he’s only a year younger than me , ❞  basil explains .  he’d hoped that with such a small wedge between them they would have gotten along better ,  but nate had taken to their mother ;  basil ,  their father .  he’d chosen him so as not to abandon him ,  as much as he knows that ,  technically ,  he isn’t responsible for the man tasked with raising him .  in the end ,  it had meant abandoning nate .  and getting abandoned by him .  basil lifts the hoodie then ,  an unconscious action ,  and presses it to his mouth .  the honey - warmth of his brown eyes saddens into something weightier ,  cold like slick stalagmite . 

pj ,  it seems ,  understands that blood - thick loyalty ,  fierce and unwavering ,  despite what might be thrown their way by callous fate .  sad as his large eyes may be ,  basil smiles while he listens .  ❝  she in chicago ,  too ?? ❞  he asks . 

it wasn’t always blood that formed such steadfast ties . since his family had adopted his sister , an act beneath the shroud of self-efficacy when , in reality , it was anything but , their lives had been permanently intertwined ; despite an air of distrust ( for who could blame her ?? ) pj and his sibling were inseparable . he was there for any relationship problem , for any long night with the bottle , for the endless questions of why , and why us , and why me ?? sometimes , he had come to discover the hard way , parents aren’t the messiahs you think they are — perhaps that’s the first roadblock of adulthood that a child is forced to stomach and swerve around , the damage forever scarred across both skin and psyche . 

“ only a year . that’s neat , i bet you guys really got on when you were younger . i always wanted a brother , “ but how wrong he had been . what would life have looked like if his parents called to inquire on a different day , if they hadn’t brought home a pink-blanketed bundle , if they had decided to conceive themselves . those warm eyes , rounded pools of understanding , remained tied to basil , watching the subtle movements of his lips as he spoke . the few words were enough to begin painting a fuzzy picture , to note that family wasn’t a welcomed topic of conversation in the opposing camp . 

aspen’s mama would have described striker as all hat ,  no cattle ,  especially with his display of table manners begone .  aspen doesn’t quite mind it .  careful as she might be not to smear barbecue sauce over the red already adorning her mouth ,  she finds it freeing to sit with someone whose inhibitions lay elsewhere .  it gives aspen permission to sink her teeth greedily , gratuitous when she hums out her satisfaction after those first few sticky bites .  she hasn’t eaten a meal this good in a helluva long while .  

in the dim light of their intimate little spot ,  time whooshes so fast aspen’s a little dazed when dani comes round and stacks up their empty plates .  pleasantries exchanged ,  food and service most complimented ,  aspen’s found fishing in their winnings bowl for a generous tip to accompany what they actually owe .  by the time the pair makes it out of the restaurant ,  all body heat has rushed to her tummy ,  and she shivers when the cool nighttime air kisses her rosy cheeks .  

❝ my lord , ❞  the redhead manages to drawl through a startling chatter of teeth ,  jaw working overtime until she clamps it shut .  those chills sink lower ,  stubborn , and rattle her limbs until she’s pretty sure the wind is playing xylophone with her skeleton .  shoulders hunching ,  aspen folds her arms across the heat pumping straight into her working stomach and fixes striker with a borderline pleading gaze .  ❝  that ranch o’yours got someplace warm t’sit for a little while ?? ❞

time rocketed past as wings were shoved past his lips , as fingers were steeped in grease . in recent memory there hadn’t been a moment where he’d been so satisfied , so full , so round-bellied ; fit to burst , the male slumped against the booth and patted the height of his stomach , a silent vow that he was full — although he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t considered pocketing some for later . making their departure , striker swiped a leftover onion ring and shoved it straight into his cheek like a soon-to-be hibernating rodent .

out in the cold , watching aspen tremble in the chill , there wasn’t a second thought . wordlessly striker surrendered his over-shirt , tugging red plaid from pale skin and draping those oversized shoulders over aspen’s frame . it was a tender move , a brush of farm-hardened hands against the back of her neck , fingertips tangled in auburn for a fleeting second before he tugged himself away . “ it sure has . we got a heated barn , ‘n if the ranch owner ain’t in i got the run o’ the house too . plenny space for you t’ warm up in , “ perhaps he was a little too slow to grapple with the weight of the situation , that a beautiful woman was coming home with him after spending an evening , willingly , in his company . taking steps back towards the dive where they had met , the keys to his rust-orange ford pick-up swung from his fingertip . 

confident as he may sound in his borderline childlike gripe ( it tickled a wind chime laugh out of aspen ) ,  fidgeting fingers ripping strands of tissue paper speak otherwise .  aspen pictures herself reaching out to steady those hands with warmth from her own .  it’s a thought that shocks deep into her stomach .  the fairy tail sequences conjured up by aspen’s wandering mind are often those of fleeing ,  of escape ,  brain detached from body and lifting off to someplace different ,  where everything feels light and soft round the edges .  there’s no need for running here .  striker feels soft round the edges . 

when she tuts ,  it’s with fondness ,  light and void of any real repercussion .  ❝  poor girl , ❞  aspen muses through a smile ,  though there’s something blue there ,  sad around the soft lines that shape it .  she reaches out then ,  though all temptation to touch even his knuckles is stayed by nerves ,  a warning of too soon ;  so she plucks up one of the tearaway stripes ,  wishing she could’ve plucked up some courage instead .  ❝  you’re gonna break her heart if y’do ,  ❞  not to mention that maybe dani’s just out for a big tip ,  and they’re coming across as big spenders ,  however brief their time under such guises might be .  she doesn’t voice the thought ,  not when it entails stomping on striker’s self confidence –  although ,  there doesn’t seem to be much of that .  aspen wonders what kind of cruel words have painted such a warped self image before his mind’s eye .  she wonders if she could ever add some kinder strokes . 

before her curiosity can run amuck ,  dani reappears .  this time ,  the oversized tray she’d had tucked under one arm lays perfectly balanced on her palm ,  their drinks sweating condensation under the amber lights. ❝  here y’have ‘em !!  ❞  she says ,  voice as enthusiastic as her swinging ,  bouncing ponytail .  she slides the pint down to striker and sets the ice tea beside aspen .  ❝  thank you ,  honey ,  ❞  aspen returns. ❝  no problem !!  i’ll be right quick with them starters ,  too ,  don’t go runnin’ away on me now !!  ❞ 

like a wild animal without the promise of their next drink , striker very nearly forgot to thank the woman once his beer was offered . huge hands , calloused from securing ropes and wrestling livestock , grabbed the pale yellow liquid from the tabletop , guzzling an inch in one gasp , a thin line of white foam , a bubble-beard , clung to the overgrown strands at his facial scruff , before his mother’s voice kicked in . ‘ stevie , darlin’ , you got shmutz all over your face !! lemme grab it , ‘ the web between his index finger and thumb , decorated with a lighting strike tattoo , mopped the mess off his upper lip , digging to remind himself of the gentlemanly values instilled by the darling georgia cannon . “ thanks , fer the beer ‘n all , “

dani disappeared once again ; her words were ironic , given the very fact that the pair had spent their entire lives clawing together shreds of capital , let alone enough money , to stand on their own two feet in a place such as this . such fine dining — which wasn’t fine is the grand scheme of things , not at all , but fine enough for them — wasn’t made for people like him , for them ; the bottom of society that lived among the vermin and the dregs of living . despite the figures within the restaurant , they were far from being of the same breed , calibre or pedigree . “ well in that case i gots t’ let her down gently . don’t wanna make ourselves no enemies in here . the one time we’re shootin’ with the big guns and we get kicked out ‘cus i don’t wanna catch no case , “ 

basil can only blame his inexperience .  it’s landed him in sticky situations a-plenty ,  where he’s been called everything between “ tease “ and “ coy “ ,  where the truth’s been branded on his forehead like a warning :  virgin .  when sally higgins had claimed his first kiss during a tipsy game of spin the bottle ,  he’d known that girls weren’t for him .  and while there have been opportunities for exploration ,  for casual play ,  easy ways out ,  he’s never found a guy he’s wanted to give the rest of his kisses to .  some had been swiped ,  and now he’s a little more careful when he drinks — not because anyone had forced themself on him ,  more so because basil ,  ever an eager people pleaser ( a recipe for poor impulse control and next day regrets when mixed with alcohol ) ,  has given into the easy pull of another’s lips when cast in the hazy sheen of intoxication . 

there’s a hand on his shoulder and basil’s dropping both of his from his face .  and then he feels that easy pull again ,  only ,  he’s completely sober right now ,  clouded ,  if anything ,  by embarrassment his smooth ,  smokey neighbour’s squeezing away with that touch .  basil smiles ,  ❝ ‘kay .  ❞ he can almost see the scene now :  pj , standing tall in his glow of natural confidence ,  taking in the sea salt green of his living room walls ,  littered with framed posters of his and his roommate’s favourite movies ,  along with strings of fujifilm instants ,  snapshots of times basil aches for .  he misses the days he and his roommate would get along ,  actually talk and hang out .  but basil had earned himself his new girlfriend’s disapproval ( something about calling her some other girl’s name ,  which basil had stumbled to rectify after a bulging glare from his roommate ,  right over the sour looking face shooting daggers straight into basil’s fucking soul ) .  ❝  that sounds good ,  sure ,  ❞  he chuckles ,  ❝  you can totally use me as– use my place .  use my place as-as leverage .  ❞

be it pj’s confidence or his blunt —  yet still somehow patient and sweet — observations ,  basil follows suit and sinks into the sofa’s embrace .  it wheezes out a puff of dusty ,  cigarette-scented air ,  tickling his nose until he has to rub it .  he drops cocoa coloured eyes to the deep ,  comforting hues of his hoodie .  technically — ❝  it’s my brother’s ,  ❞  basil explains .  he isn’t usually this quick to divulge the tangle of family ties ,  but there’s that sweet patience ,  a little bemused ,  yet accepting all the same ,  easing it out of him .  ❝  my parents got divorced and he went to live with our dad .  i went with our mom ,  moved out here …  yeah .  ❞

when it came to relationships , pj hadn’t ever had much of a role model to look towards . it was clear that his parents , just as many couples those days did , had married not out of love , but out of necessity . his father had money and power , his mother had beauty ; what more did a relationship need ?? when cracks already exist in a marriage they are often widened , rather than bandaged , by the existence of children , and so had been the case when caroline and philip had enough of their only son and wanted to add more potential success stories to their family tree through adoption . his sister was added into their dysfunctional nest , and nothing had been the same since .

the majority of his same-sex romances ( mixtapes , rose petals , kisses in the moonlight ) had to exist beneath the shroud of his bedroom , not out of shame but of the fear that his father would be disappointed . it was always worse than angry , those quiet tuts and shakes of a head or the dismissive wave of a palm . perhaps , somewhere out there , existed a glimpse into a world where two people could , wholly and authentically , feel for one another .

downturned eyes spoke of empathy as pj listened to the other’s words . it would have been easier if his own parents had divorced all those years ago instead of slapping the band-aid of another child over the ever-widening canyon of their fizzling love . a part of him was jealous that the fights and using the children as a weapon had been nipped in the bud so early — would he have still been the same man , if he hadn’t had to stand between his sister and father to speak in her honour ?? would he have been so steadfast , so assured , so confident , if he hadn’t had to subsidise what his sister had lost in the crossfire . with the twitch of a smile , shrouded in the plumes of smoke billowing from nostrils and dancing from a gap in his lips , he commented ; “ that makes a whole lot more sense . i know i’d do anything to get back something that belonged to my sister . how old’s your brother ?? “ 

basil blanches .  an inhuman noise ,  something between a jagged croak and a helpless little splutter ,  rattles in his chest like marbles crashing to the floor .  he hadn’t meant it like — 

❝  no !!  i –  i mean ,  ah ,  b’uh …  ❞  there’s no one way to play this ,  yet only now is basil realising that he might have been pitching the wrong moves ,  losing to a far more experienced –  and far better skilled  – opponent .  and then ,  just as it had rushed from them ,  blood floods his cheeks ,  crests towards the very tips of his ears and swallows his face whole .  in utter defeat ,  basil drops his face into his palms with a groan .  his entire body constricts into a cringe ,  feet pointed inwards ,  knees buckled together ,  stomach curled .  

if his buckle-ready will falling prey to a barely there peer pressure hadn’t clued pj in ,  he can probably tell by now that basil isn’t the shiniest bulb in the building block .  if anything ,  he’s the irksome hum ,  the constant flicker that reminds folks he needs fixing ,  only ,  they’ll get to it later .  and then they forget .  basil’s left humming out his idiocy ,  flickering in his eagerness to please .  there’s compensation round every corner in the mind of basil young ,  yet it doesn’t always lead to the best results .  he knows he’s a little pathetic ,  but he’d been hoping that that was part of the charm .  

a crack between his fingers lets him look up at pj ;  he refuses to drop his hands until his palms feel less like they’re burning from the heat radiating off his face .  behind them ,  an apologetic expression twists into his gaze like the knife plunging deeper ,  harder into his side .  idiot ,  idiot ,  idiot .  ❝  man ,  ❞  the whine comes out muffled ,  ❝  i didn’t mean it like that , i – …  i’m sorry . ❞

check mate . it became more and more apparent that it wasn’t just basketball and field hockey that pj excelled in ; although he’d hung up his sticks and those too-short shorts took up space at the bottom of his drawers , he was merely chalking his palms in readiness for the game of life . it was sweet , really , the effect he seemed to have on his neighbour — he should get used to it , he supposed , if fame was ever to be within his grasp , knowing that adoring and obsessed fangirls would be plagued with a whole lot less self consciousness than basil seemed to be .

“ i know that’s not what you meant , “ an uncharacteristic softness , one that was so often yearned for from his teachers when they begged young philip to ‘ use his inside voice ‘ . leaning forward , fingers clasped basil’s shoulder in a show of companionship , a small sideways smirk as if to silently reassure him that things hadn’t been misconstrued , that it was just him with his mind-in-the-gutter attitude and inability to keep his damn mouth shut . “ i’m just playing around , but if the offer’s still there i’d love to come check out your pad sometime .. even if it’s just leverage with my landlord to get our rent slashed if yours is better than mine , “

❝  now i just don’t believe that one bit ,  no sir-ee  !!  ❞  dani returns .  aspen remains with a silent smile on her face ,  though one quick glance between her impromptu dinner date and the server humouring him says it all :  of course she thinks striker’s a gentleman .  how could she not ??  

the longer they sit like this ,  the greater her awareness of this comfortable proximity shared between practical strangers is .  she’s well acquainted with shooting star encounters ,  though they’ve never felt like this .  more often than not ,  they come to a stale conclusion involving satisfied snoring from a rumpled bed while aspen collects her things .  she never looks back ,  figuring she might as well use these people as they’re so keen on using her .  but it never feels fair ,  never feels balanced .  there’s always something taken and aspen wonders why she’s so willing to give ,  despite the cyclical entrapment .  maybe she’s been starving for too long .  aspen watches dani jot down everything striker calls for ,  the pair sharing an easy laugh as that dimple ,  that heart-melting ,  gut-wrenching ,  tongue-tying dimple winks at her with every wide ,  crinkly-eyed grin .  yeah ,  aspen’s mighty hungry ,  too .

❝  alright ,  well y’all sit tight and i’ll be back with your drinks in no time ,  so don’t get too cosy !!  ❞  dani disappears with a wink ,  and aspen has the good grace to blush .  it’s ridiculous ,  that a woman like her might yet still feel bashful at times .  almost innocent .  she rises out from the bench beside striker and slips back in next to her fishbowl –  their fishbowl .  when she meets those bourbon-toned eyes of his ,  aspen knows her own have warmed ,  the kind of blue one might not mind sinking into ,  like the warm embrace of a bath when muscles are achy and breaths need to slow .  ❝  all the better t’see your pretty face , ❞  aspen explains .  she chuckles ,  chin sinking to rest in her palm ,  ❝  i think miss dani might be a little sweet on you .  ❞

it was no surprise that striker hadn’t picked up on their server’s cues . he wasn’t the sharpest tool , nor was he the shiniest horseshoe in the barn — academic smarts and common sense had failed him , skipping a generation and flooding the middle cannon ( what with his incessant need to keep the trailer tidy and his aversion to week-old socks ) . he was clueless enough that he simply smiled in response to the wink , taken as a gesture of goodwill , turning back to the menu to check whether there was anything to tack onto the end of their mammoth order . bodies peeled apart , the warm side of striker’s body quickly cooling in the absence of aspen ; perhaps he’d make an excuse to read something else , just to have her knees pressed up against his own once again .

“ well y’ could see my face pretty damn well from right close to it . “ it was a futile argument , one born from his inability to read between the lines , a tendency to take things at face value , black and white . moving the menu to one side , he plucked a napkin from the holder and began tearing shreds from corners with the tips of bitten fingernails — like petals ( she likes me , she likes me not ) he tore off shreds , piled upon the tabletop as he idly waited for his food . it soon became a string of gouges , much like a craft spiderweb elementary kids would make in their classrooms come halloween . distracted by her comment , his cedar gaze flickered from the DIY project between his fingertips to the cerulean glow of aspen buchanan .

❝  i’d like that .  ❞  truthfully ,  aspen would like to catch more glimpses of what makes a man like striker so sweet .  she’s almost giddy with her ever growing fascination with the man with silver in his hair and gold in his heart .  a man who could have easily followed the path from whence he’s strayed :  a history so marred by wounds that bleed deeper than busted flesh could have shaped striker’s hand into the kind of violence one would expect from a name like his ,  yet those long digits only fidget with nerves aspen wants nothing more than to soothe .

there’s never been much room for mistakes in aspen’s life ;  over the years ,  even the smallest would have cost too much .  too many a time have things cut too close :  when fear had kept the overhead light on in her car and she’d killed her batteries in bumfuck nowhere ;  when a wrong turn had left her caught between a dead end and a snake with a knife .  even before becoming the runaway bride ,  betrayer of wholesome family values and purveyor of lascivious sin ( all for the right price ,  of course ) ,  anything unbecoming to the buchanan name –  particularly at the hands of a meagre young girl  – was yanked from its root like a dirty weed .  lottie mae had taken great pleasure in cutting chunks from aspen’s hair ,  all because their pastor had spoken of its temptation .  memories tend to mist over with the passing of time ,  but that punishing gleam in her mother’s eyes still haunts her .  sometimes ,  she feels seven years old again ,  wondering why strands akin to a rose have been pulled and left to rot like dead leaves swept under the purity of snow .   

she likes that striker’s less afraid of fucking up .  there’s freedom in that ,  and a growth that makes her ,  in turn ,  feel stunted .  with little need for perfection when there’s beauty in the ugly side of life ,  aspen finds a kinship that lets her finally breathe .  how could she judge the man sitting beside her when he sees nothing blotting who she is ??  yet ,  aspen reminds herself .  sooner or later ,  she’ll have to come clean about her dirty acts ,  and while a taste of them may have earned them this dinner ,  fear of rejection still twists in her gut at the thought of sharing her chosen profession with striker .  although ,  that very profession’s gotten her counting cash quicker than one can say “ eat up !! “ ❝  that an’ some ,  honey !!  ❞  aspen assures . she’s still peering at the menu ,  the desserts section snatching her attention when she spots fudge brownies ,  towering sundaes and melt-in-your-mouth cookie dough .  ❝  there’s also puddin’ ,  and i gotta tell ya ,  i have one helluva sweet tooth .  ❞ 

striker’s knee touches hers .  when she looks up ,  her gaze stumbles .  greedy now ,  unsure of where to land ,  it smooths over a sharp jawline dusted with stubble ,  up to the ghost of a dimple pronounced only with a smile .  and what a smile he has ,  all warm eyes and bursting pride .  aspen’s caught in striker’s pointed little cupid’s bow ;  she watches it move along with the rest of his mouth ,  and her stomach swoops with a hunger not too dissimilar to that of which striker speaks . 

❝  hi !!  my names dani ,  and i’ll be takin’ care’f you this evenin’ .  can i get y’all somethin’ t’drink ??  ❞  their server’s jolly voice startles aspen out of her stupor ,  and she whips her head around ,  throat a little tight ,  chest shaky around a breath she only realises now she’s been holding .  ❝  uh … ye –  sure .  i …  i guess i’ll take an iced tea .  ❞ ❝  alrighty ,  and for the gentleman ??  ❞ aspen turns to face him again ,  this time with a sheepish kind of amusement in the subtlest of smiles :  they’re like two school kids caught mackin’ on each other behind the science block . 

even if aspen had laid bare the moment they had met , striker would never have passed judgement . how could he , on a woman that hadn’t hesitated nor judged him in any way other than that of face value ?? there had been no preconceptions , no twitch of her nose or sly comment . she hadn’t deemed him as lesser , or recoiled the moment she heard his name — despite only being in texas for a few years , the cannon boys had built themselves quite the reputation . it was why the threads of her occupation , those little off-hand comments and gestures that offered pieces of the puzzle , meant little to him . even if she had approached him with a brand across her chest , he would have only ever accepted her as aspen . there was a safety to that level playing field , a knowledge that they were both the dregs of society and yet , somehow , in that steakhouse , on that bitter autumn night , they had found solace in the eyes of one another , a safety in their shared doom . 

a knee knocking into hers with a dull thunk , he excitedly piped : “ she’d like you a whole bunch . bertha’s a real good judge o’ character . she knows things , things i ain’t never seen in a regular cow . “ if dani hadn’t approached the table striker would’ve continued , about how there was a glint in her expression that convinced the male she understood , that she was the only cow he could coax a whole pail of milk out of ; although the limit to his cow knowledge ceased to exist , a stopper was forced upon his ranting by the appearance of the server . 

“ an’ i’ll take a beer , thank you , dani — you know , i ain’t never been called no gentleman before !! “ the idea of such brought that dimple out of hiding once again . more often than not he was the butt of the joke , the comic relief , the imbecile in the corner or a sidekick to the main narrative of a story . now , he was beneath those drop lights of the steakhouse and illuminated in a halo of temporary wealth . he would enjoy it , squeeze the moment for all it was worth , until the moment their status was cruelly ripped away and he was thrown back into the mud . it had always been where he was most comfortable , anyway ; striker had been born in the rubble and had created everything he was , is , and would ever be from the detritus surrounding him . what would a few dollars do to change that ?? whether he was wearing the same flannel shirt he had acquired from a donation bin when he was seventeen years old or a peacoat and tails , the male would always and forever be striker cannon . no more , no less . 

not a single time comes to mind when aspen casts it back to see if she’s ever come across anyone who might’ve gone into such detail for so long .  it’s as startling as it is amusing ,  the same way listening to a child speak of their day’s activities is amusing .  it isn’t at striker’s expense ,  and the smile aspen wears as she enjoys the excited little cracks in the natural growl of his voice assures him of the fact . 

following both the waitress and striker’s train of thought is a momentary challenge when habit calls for aspen’s attention .  her gaze darts about the space like a cornered animal’s ,  quick to find any and all exits ,  to take in the predators sinking canines into steaming meat .  beer bottles sweat in the too - hot space ;  even though it’s an evident insult to their existence ,  being tucked away from the deeper pocketed clientele proves a blessing in disguise :  it’s cooler back here ,  no doubt thanks to the small window next to the gents that’s been cracked open .  ❝ is bertha at the ranch y’work at ?? ❞  she asks once she can get a word in — jumping to speak when the retreating waitress distracts a smile out of striker . there’s genuine interest there :  aspen hasn’t ever met anybody with this much passion in their heart .  there’s life bursting out of striker’s gaze ,  excitement for something so simple ,  so easily dismissed by others .  aspen’s caught in his wonder as a child might be seeing their very first shooting star . 

then comes the trouble with the menu ,  and aspen doesn’t hesitate one bit .  she rises out of her seat ,  floats easily over to striker’s and slides on in with a soft ,  ❝  here ,  honey .  ❞  when her leg presses against his ,  it’s purely accidental ,  all trace of calculated seduction having dissipated in the face of honest interest .  she doesn’t even realise she’s doing it ,  and simply relaxes in the comfort of something warm ( heat radiating through rough denim ) rasping against her bare thigh . 

❝  we could do nachos ,  sure ,  ❞  aspen taps the little bold title ,  then lets her pointer drift down to note the other options ,  ❝  we also got chicken wings ,  barbecue pork ribs ,  sweet potato fries ,  and …  ❞  she has to lean in a little to peer at the rest of the list ;  her hair slips forward to tickle striker’s arm ,  ❝ crispy chicken strips ,  normal fries ,  wedges … ❞ 

blue lifts to brown ,  and aspen ignores the soft hitch in her breath to ask ,  ❝ whaddya want ?? ❞

the oldest of the brothers would take any opportunity to speak of his best friend with both hands . of course , birdie and lance were close to his heart ; he adored the boys more than he needed to breathe , but there was something to be said for the ears of a creature that existed without judgement , without a bad bone within their body . “ bertha’s at the ranch with me , yeah . she ain’t technically my cow , but she knows who her daddy is . i can show her to you sometime , “ to the untrained ear it may have seemed a strange offer , one that would leave the recipient scratching their head and wondering why . to striker , though , it was the ultimate privilege , leaving the door to his deepest secrets ever so slightly ajar . 

softness was something rarely dealt to the cannon three . the male half expected a fountain of ridicule , teasing at his inability to view the words or read coherently . instead , a brush of warmth and the gentle breath of the woman beside him , a sweet nickname so far removed from his weaponized moniker . the boy had never struck anybody , and so his interpretation of his birth name — the first letter opening the door to full imagination when he was old enough to pick a new one for himself — couldn’t have been further from the truth . aspen’s was far more fitting ; her hair was the swatches of orange and gold of her namesake tree , the flutter of lashes as soft as autumn leaves falling as september kissed the state they called home . squinting once more to focus on the blurred letters , striker offered a hum in acknowledgment once his soft eyes found a home at the tip of her crimson-painted finger . 

his neighbour’s far more observant than basil had initially thought .  then again ,  it isn’t difficult to discern basil’s eagerness to please ,  so alike that of a golden retriever’s .  one need only narrow their eyes to spot his phantom tail waggling in mad earnest .  all he does is shrug ,  the corners of his lips perpetually upturned ,  even when a light dusting of embarrassment covers his cheeks .  ❝  yeah … ❞  he trails off into a dorky laugh ( heh-heh-huhh … ) and has to glance away when he hears just how utterly ridiculous he sounds .  ❝ i … don’t know why i said yes .  sorry .  ❞  he offers pj one final sheepish little grin and hopes that’ll be the end of it .  it seems to be ,  when pj plucks the cigarette from between his fingers .  ❝  oh !!  for sure ,  go for it !!  ❞  not that pj needs his permission nor blessing :  after all ,  it would be a wasted cigarette otherwise ,  and basil’s already embarrassed enough without that extra thin layer of guilt . 

unlike’s basil’s bumbling –  save for when he’s in the kitchen  – pj holds himself with a grace basil would think only a cat capable of .  there’s delicacy to every movement ,  even with the rough edges framing his very being .  that wobbly little ring of smoke is proof enough ;  basil’s left staring at it until it fades away .  he manages to tune back into pj’s words before he misses them all .  brows raised , he nods , slow and firm to really cement the agreement ,  ❝  right –  no ,  yeah !!  exactly ,  man !!  plus ,  i heard they don’t even have the rights to tolkien’s actual material ,  so they’re kinda just using the name ??  like ,  they don’t even have access to the real stories ,  so they’ve made some random shit up .  like ,  just come up with a new franchise ,  damn .  god knows bezos has the money for it ,  the asshole .  ❞

he could go on ,  but pj makes quick work of shocking basil into another blushing silence .  that is ,  until he’s sputtering out a — ❝  chyeah ,  i mean –  really ??  that … wouldn’t weird you out ?? ❞  a question that suggests that basil’s practically on it already .  he scratches his cheek as though to scrape the red right out from under the soft skin ,  peachy as a summer sunset .   ❝  y’know ,  you –  i mean ,  feel free to come round and play whenever .  i have a buncha other games ,  too .  ❞

it was a marvel that basil hadn’t quite made the connection between the jeering voice — the excited juvenile ranting of somebody obsessed with the b-sides of cassettes that were left , forgotten and buried — and the one opposite him . getting a job at the local radio station had been a complete fluke ; unlike others his age and in his predicament , pj had cherry-picked the establishments he was happy to work in , and all but begged until an interview and , ultimately , a position was offered up to him . used to getting what he wanted when he wanted , the male hadn’t taken no for an answer ; it would be the same if his shitty little band ( named after a raymond carver novel ) were ever offered a record deal , although such a future seemed miles out of reach . 

“ don’t change your beliefs for my benefit , dude . beat to your own drum , rock to your own roll — you think i got anywhere by doing what was expected of me ?? “ the nameless individual , the one with a quiff high enough to put pj himself out of business , was equal parts intriguing and questionable ; it took him a minute to recall how on earth the other breached the boundaries to his apartment , and then he remembered the scrunched-up hoodie that had gone walkabout . 

laundry was something he despised — the suppressed drama of being a little , sheltered golden boy came to a head whenever pj was put in positions he didn’t want to be in . for the most part he lived up to his rockstar facade , he earned the corkscrew mane stop of his head . if ozzy osbourne could bite the head off of a bat , he could do the simplest of chores without protest , right ?? you’d think so , and yet detergent-covered fingers would bring on a conniption if he wasn’t able to wash them within a minute of contamination . even if he needed to rewash the collection of lingering garments upon his tiny balcony , it had all been worth it for the company — however brief . 

as soon as he’s within reach ,  she fixes her hand around the crook of his elbow ,  linking with him to keep him from running off on her .  it’s hard enough to hurry in her heels ,  let alone with the added ache in her bones from the bull ride ( not to mention the weight of her winnings — theirs ,  really ,  considering he’d contributed to the entry fee ) .  ❝ can’t say for certain , but i’ll bet they got chicken wings or somethin’ like that ,  if you’ve got hankerin’ for some other meat . ❞  a quick glance over him tells her that he’s lean from hard labour and a lack of meals to compensate .  between striker’s appearance and the easy theft ,  she figures he’s well acquainted with what it means to scrape together something for the most base of survivals .

she’ll never know that lifestyle in its uttermost truth .  her family mightn’t have been as comfortable as others ,  but there’d always been food on the table –  eaten only after grovelling prayer –  and a tyre swing dangling from the tree out back ( which technically wasn’t theirs ,  but she and her sister had laid claim over that patch of grass in their youth ) .  it’s memories like those that make aspen wonder how wrong she’s been to run out on her kin .  there’d been smiles ,  kisses good night ,  hair tucked behind ears and family tv time .  but there’s also been locked doors ,  strands of red yanked to angle her head so that she had no choice but to listen to her mother reminding her of how much of a “ ripe little whore “ she’s grown up to be .  if only lottie mae could see her firstborn now ,  swinging around a metal pole with body glitter winking at hungry gazes ,  bills fluttering in her frilly thong . 

❝  if y’don’t mind my askin’, why no cow ??  ❞  aspen asks .  they’re nearing the steakhouse’s front door ;  from within ,  muffled country rock and the usual restaurant bustle beckons them in .  when the door swings open ,  the pair is greeted by heavy air and the odd curious glance .  a wall of empty liquor bottles decorates the space behind the bar ,  which stands ,  proud and bright with desert - themed neon ,  to one side .  a young hostess , toeing her twenties ,  greets them with a swinging ponytail and a bright - toothed smile .  ❝  hi there !!  d’ya have a reservation ?? ❞ ❝ ‘fraid not ,  sweet pea ,  ❞  aspen offers her most apologetic smile .  she lets go of striker’s arm now that they’re safely tucked into the steakhouse’s warmth ,  ❝  it’s only the two’f us ,  if that ain’t much trouble .  hell ,  we’ll even take some barstools . ❞

after a conspiring “ i’ll see what i can do “ and a twenty from the fishbowl ,  aspen and striker have been nestled away into a booth round the back ,  away from the fancier looking clientele –  if clean ,  pressed shirts and freshly shined belt buckles are anything to go by ,  at least . the menu’s extensive ,  and aspen brightens when she spots the dessert section .  ❝  here ,  see ?? ❞  she leans across the table to point a red nail at the starters .  undoubtedly the portions will equate to a main .  ❝ chicken , pork ribs …  y’wanna get stuff to share ?? ❞

the claim of striker not being smart would have been quickly redacted the moment he was asked about cows . there was no identified beginning to his fixation , nor was there an explanation ; the ranch hand just adored the things , and had dedicated his life to their care the moment his brothers had grown up and begun fending for themselves . “ well , i work at the ranch , and they’re real beautiful up close . they’re smart an’ they listen to you . they understand , even if they ain’t able to speak back . they have emotions jus’ like me an’ you . almost as smart as dogs , d’ya know that ?? bet i could teach bertha to sit ‘n roll over if i so wanted to , “ aspen would likely regret asking , as striker had been so engrossed in the reasons why that he overstepped the steakhouse and almost dragged his present company right with him .

doubling back on himself , he followed the tones of hank , cash , willie and waylon and stood , awestruck , as he examined every detail of the establishment . it was by no means fancy , and yet it was the most high-class restaurant he had ever stepped foot in ; sure , him and his brothers had pilfered supplies from their garbage cans out back , but had never enjoyed such delicacies off of a real plate . as the hostess ‘ searched ‘ for a table that would keep the unsavories from the view of the real clientele , striker’s lips burst apart to continue his previous explanation ( that , in that moment , had taken the shape of a rant ) .  “ — i love cows . a whole lot . there are eight hundred types a’ cow . eight hundred . not jus’ your black and white cows or your brown ones like bertha . did y’ know that a two hundred years ago most families had at least one cow to call their own ?? “

an eye-crinkling smile was shot to the waitress as they sat . in that moment , illuminated by the lights above them , striker studied aspen ; he absorbed the copper depths of her hair and the light freckling of her skin , the rugged beauty that only appeared in the features of somebody who had lived a life . when it came to romance — not that he was an expert , by any means — he doubted he could pair up with somebody that , throughout their upbringing , hadn’t been exposed to the ugly side of existence . who would understand when he flinched at the sight of a mouse , or when he cowered from a hand touching his back ?? a date wouldn’t be possible if they judged the way he scarfed down food like it was going out of fashion or relied solely on ice-cold cans of beer for hydration . whether or not they had felt the same strength behind a father’s palm or the venomous words of a mother meant to care for them , there was something deep beneath face-value attraction that had united the pair that night .