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#CJ fanfic
mayuurx · 6 months
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Sharing @freiflies work because it's awesome.
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kerowwo · 10 months
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So, i uh
I wanted to practice writing again and thought to myself “hey im kinda hyperfixated on cj rn lemme write a fan fic about cccc it looks cool”
yeah im working on a fanfic based on the au idea i posted a bit ago of them all having weapons and weaponsmithing and shite
chapter 1 is done already and im planning to grind this shit OUT tmrw,
PLEASE tell me how you feel about my writing and the idea overall. Any Criticism is welcome (PLEASE I NEED TIPS ON HOW TO WRITE)
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factorialsfandoms · 1 year
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Um... 3+1 h/c featuring one chapter of each of Heart, Mind, and Soul suffering and Darrell the chicken ( @socialc1imb ‘s creation)
Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium Vol. 1 - Chonny Jash (Album), The Mind Electric - Chonny Jash (Song) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Heart & Mind & Soul (Chonny Jash), Soul & a Chicken (Chonny Jash), Heart & a Chicken (Chonny Jash), Mind & a Chicken (Chonny Jash) Characters: Soul (Chonny Jash), Mind (Chonny Jash), Heart (Chonny Jash), A Chicken Additional Tags: the chicken was named by not me, but just a chicken, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Distressing imagery, (in said nightmare), Dissociation, Mind has prosthetics, Phantom pain, most of these are t but I don't trust Heart's not to be, in my head darrell is a hen but also he/him, obviously the chicken didn't care it was Soul who gendered him, the chicken does not speak english, 3+1 Things Summary:
3 times Darrell the Chicken provided comfort, and one time Darrel got comfort in return
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imaginaryprotagonist · 3 months
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Rewatching old episodes of Dawson's Creek and Charmed before reading a Destiel College AU fic. Gotta make sure I've got my visuals right.
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amesliu · 1 month
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it’s the multiverse
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zepskies · 1 month
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What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️
Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓
But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?
For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.
While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.
I'm still here for two very important reasons:
I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.
I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖
Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...
And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:
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(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)
That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:
If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)
If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.
If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...
Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.
But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.
Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.
They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.
Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.
Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.
Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.
Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.
For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.
If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).
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Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:
(In no particular order)
@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof
@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings
@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords
@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze
@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋
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podcastenthusiast · 4 months
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Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List
Mostly payneland <3 I will update as I find more fics.
“I don’t like this, mate,” Charles muttered.
The Things We Can, and Cannot, Do by MDJensen
Paul Rowland is dead. It's not just that, though.
Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? by DontOffendTheBees
“No,” Edwin agreed, gravely. “Nor do I.”
Frankly, taking this case was probably an unwise decision. The meagre payment offered by the sickly-looking ghost of the old groundskeeper would fall far, far short of the emotional cost of the expedition. And yet when Edwin had looked over to Charles and met his eyes, there had been no doubt, no hesitation. Perhaps it was the notion of unfinished business; that mysterious force that compelled ghosts to sites of personal trauma as sirens compelled sailors to the unforgiving rocks. Perhaps they were both mere gluttons for punishment.
Either way, they were here now. It was with heavy hearts and wary eyes that on the evening of June twenty-sixth, Edwin and Charles – along with Crystal – set foot once more on the grounds of St. Hilarion's School for Boys.   In which a very, very old case is re-opened.
Mom Says It's My Turn to Jump on the Grenade by RoseGanymede95
Charles tried to pay attention, because Edwin was really upset, and Charles still didn’t understand why, and it seemed like this might be important. It was just, they’d been at this for a while, and Edwin kept asking him the same questions and not leaving him time to answer, so. His mind may have wandered a bit to how he would reinforce the next cricket bat. His attention snapped back to the present when Edwin said, “This can’t happen. You can’t risk this, I can’t be the reason you risk it. You have to move on.” “Move on?” Charles repeated blankly. “Move on from what?” “From here, Charles!” Edwin shouted, suddenly furious again, suddenly shouting even though his eyes were filled with tears. “You have to go with Death! You have to leave!” “I don’t want to go with Her,” Charles said, nonplussed. “Fine, that’s your business, but you can’t keep hanging around me!” Edwin snapped. Charles’ world suddenly tilted on its axis, sending everything askew. “I can’t?” he asked, his voice small, his heart wide open and exposed.
Let me bleed instead of you by mellxncollie
The question rang like a cracked bell in what had only just become someplace Edwin had started to contemplate calling home. “What was Hell like?” - Charles and Edwin keep secrets from one another. The list isn't long, but it's not empty. Eventually, they start tumbling out in soft whispers, in tear-reddened eyes, in shocked expressions, in choked up phrases.
Or, 40 years and 8 secrets.
Indelible by Arisprite
Charles is feeling a lot and also not much at all in the immediate aftermath of returning from Hell. He also can tell Edwin is wearing thin from holding himself together. Who wouldn't be, after that? It's okay, though. Charles can take care of him, and he always always will.
Done Running by Asidian
Charles has gone a peculiar off color, all the blood blanched from his cheeks. He glances to the arm, and then back up to Edwin's face. "Any break's a bad break, innit?"
"Some have more drawbacks than others," says Edwin, detached and scholarly. "For instance, unless the nerves are compromised, it is possible to make use of the injured arm in cases of extreme –"
"Bloody hell," breathes Charles.
Joi de Vivre by olympus_mons
Edwin Payne crawls out of Hell twice. Somehow, his problems begin in the aftermath.
so many ways to give in by piilu
“I think there’s something really wrong with me, mate,” Charles sobs, the remains of the bat falling from his hand. ---- Charles struggles with his anger issues. Again.
A Room of One's Own by DarkStars (Worlds_Okayest_Goalie)
Crystal is so tired of watching Charles and Edwin stare longingly at each other. OR 5 times Crystal tells Charles and Edwin to get a room and 1 time they do.
Shape Me by dearheartdont
At least twice a year Charles and his mum packed their cases and caught a train to Birmingham, leaving his dad behind with a freezer full of carefully labelled Tupperware.
Charles Rowland and his relationship with his extended family and heritage.
(Part of a series of snapshots of Charles’ life in the 1980s.)
half of my soul, as the poets say by thegirlofthorns
Edwin existed, just as Charles had. Charles, who occupied a space in loving memory. A much-deserved space – Edwin would have wanted it no other way – but the core of him wanted to scream that he had been here, too. He never would be again, but he had lived, and he had breathed and laughed and moved with too much frippery and frill to continue on breathing, and he had been a whole person, once. And it had not mattered. So looked at CHARLES ROWLAND through tears, allowed himself to. Even Charles's hammer on metal on stone was not enough to dull the pain, but it was enough to remind him that he was still here, even if he was no longer living. It was an awful sound, a jarring sound, and tears shone in Charles’s eyes as he focused intently on carving out the A in his surname, but it was something. They were there, together, and they were feeling.
- Or, Charles finds Edwin's unmarked grave and will, in the lightest of terms, not be having it.
Terrible, Horrible, No Good, and Very Bad by hibye
It was about the torture. The torture he was experiencing presently, and also every minute of every hour of every day, standing alongside Edwin Payne and saying nothing out of the ordinary at all.
O Spirit From The Great Beyond! by InTwainFiction
Edwin is ignoring Charles.
They haven't spoken in almost twelve hours, and all because of a little incident involving some puppies. Yes, said incident may have been Charles' fault, but he has apologised a million times.
Charles is getting desperate to find a way to get Edwin to talk to him again, and a little walk away from the office provides just the thing Charles needs.
He hopes it will get Edwin to talk to him, but at the very least it will be a laugh.
a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches
“The house is… sad,” the client responds.
“Again, we can’t help with selling the house. Maybe try some decorations. That’ll brighten the old place up,” Charles suggests.
“No, you misunderstand. The house doesn’t look sad. The house is sad. It is depressed.”
“How do you figure?” Edwin says, sitting up in his chair now that the client has said something potentially interesting.
or A new case brings up old feelings, and maybe something more.
A Heaven Like They Talk About by LikeMmCookies
After managing to piss off yet another witch, Edwin and Charles are cursed as punishment. Bewildered, powerless, and lacking answers, they face their greatest challenge yet: being human again.
With Edwin doing novel things like picking out shampoo and wearing different pants, Charles finds his body reacting in strange ways to his best friend. He questions if these are new feelings, or if they'd been there all along.
But the biggest question remains - do they stay alive or do they find a way to go back?
being unknown by The_IPRE
Edwin does know Charles, or at least he likes to think that he does. He knows that Charles is far better with the clients than he is, quick to offer a smile or extend sympathy while Edwin is far more interested in delving deeper into the details of the case. He knows that Charles has a wicked swing with his cricket bat, but prefers to leave that as a second resort when he believes there's a way for them to come to a compromise. He knows that Charles chooses to hope for the best from people, even after having seen the worst they have to offer–and in fact, having been killed by it.
As Charles sits in front of him, the strain in his shoulders at odds with the easy grin on his face, Edwin wonders how much of his friend he is failing to see. -- 5 times Edwin didn't press the issue, and one time he did.
The Kind of Light That Means Just Love (When My Baby Smiles at Me) by DontOffendTheBees
“Charles,” Edwin admonished, gently closing his book with a finger tucked between the pages to hold his place. “I have asked you to stop fooling around with that contraption and get some work done.”
“I have been!” Charles defended, gesturing broadly at the higgledy-piggledy array of items around him. Evidently, taking stock of the contents of his bag of tricks was an expansive task. “Taking a break.” He snatched the small square of paper from the Polaroid camera and began to shake it with abandon.   In which Charles partakes in some amateur ghost photography, and Edwin (fondly) bemoans the futility of the exercise.
The Good Left Undone by plutosheaven
Help comes from unlikely places when Edwin is once again faced with a threat worse than death.
the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)
Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.
Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.
XXX
“Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”
“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.
“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.
Form 239, Schedule L by sanctuary_for_all
At the top of a small pile of papers was a copy of Form 239, Schedule L, filled out with achingly familiar handwriting. At the top, the word "Approved" was stamped in large red letters.
This Darkness, Enduring by kickingtheladder
“Your son is gone,” they tell her. “It was… an Act of God.”
She cannot think of a single thing to say for a very long moment. And then she has many things to say, most of which are not at all appropriate for polite company. --- Edwin Payne's mother, before and after.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by kickingtheladder
“Your son is gone," they tell her. "He ran away." She doesn't say anything. --- Charles Rowland's mother, afterwards.
dreaming of the things you said / hoping that it's meant by ohmyfuckinggod420
Edwin turns away with a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. His non-existent, ghostly stomach. It seems so ridiculously cruel and on theme for his current situation. Not only is he in love with his best friend, and not only does his best friend not love him back, but he’s feeling things that he shouldn’t be feeling on top of things that he physically should not be able to feel. or
The gang is back in London. Niko is gone, Crystal is on the cusp of a breakdown, Charles is still a flirt, and Edwin is... trying his best.
Oh, and he keeps feeling his pulse. As a ghost. A very dead ghost.
The trouble really never ends.
the ghost of the past that you live in by ObsessedWithFandom
It didn’t start as much. As anything, really. Charles noticed him in the hallways only because he was new, which was rare in Year 11, and because he smiled shyly whenever Charles said hi. Aysar, he’d introduced himself, and Charles liked the way the syllables formed in his mouth. He wanted to be Aysar’s friend.
Or: five boys Charles didn't date, and one he did.
Aftermath by sophisticatedyet
“What are you humming?”
Charles’ polo muffled his question, and the pause before Charles answered was so long that Edwin wondered if he hadn’t heard him at all. But then he said, "A lullaby.”
The answer made Edwin smile bemusedly. “Why? I can't fall asleep.”
“Yeah, duh, I know. It's just meant to soothing.”
“Oh.” Edwin rested his head back against Charles’ chest. “I suppose I do feel quite soothed.”
Dance the Night by Gruoch
“What is that?” Crystal asks, looking Edwin up and down with an expression of abject befuddlement that borders on disgust.
“It is my disguise,” Edwin replies a little stiffly in response to her tone. “You told me to wear a disguise.”
“You look like Margaret Thatcher,” Crystal says flatly. “You’re going undercover at a nightclub, not a library. This—“ she plucks at Edwin’s long tweed skirt, her lip curling— “is not appropriate nightclub attire. You’re gonna attract too much attention.”
“I thought attracting attention was the point of this ludicrous exercise,” Edwin snaps back.
“Yes, the right kind of attention,” Crystal stresses. “This—” she waves a hand broadly at him—“will get the wrong kind of attention.”
~~
In which the gang returns home to discover something sinister stalking London’s party scene after dark, Edwin lets his hair down, Charles’ confidence is shaken, and Crystal pursues a new lease on life (and hopefully doesn’t die in the process).
Everywhere, Everything (wanna love you) by WildCookieKeef
Freedom, as it seems, is suffocating. Decades spent running away from death herself and yet now more than ever does Edwin feel restless. Hell is behind him for the second time. He might’ve escaped his fate of eternal torture, but rabidly approaching are revelations he would’ve kept buried for far longer.
He’d never be so flustered and disorganized if it hadn’t been for Crystal or the Cat King or Monty or the Night Nurse or that horrible witch Esther or Simon, god not Simon, or practically reenacting old Greek tales with his best mate or. . .
No. It’s no one’s fault but his own. If he could sleep he’s sure he’d have nightmares.
Of what? There’s lots to choose from, but he can just feel it. Maybe some spirit malady has taken root in his body. He can sense the tension under his skin. Aches of pain that he knows aren’t physical.
He never should’ve told Charles. What was he thinking?
or After the end of S1, Edwin reasons that Charles rejected his confession and fears the worst while trying to suffer silently. Charles is very bad at letting Edwin suffer in peace.
the eight layers of hell, reversed by Zairielon
There's a lot that Edwin and Charles don't talk about. Frankly, after 30 years together, you don't have to say much for the other person to get the point. But Port Townsend and Crystal and Niko knocked their dynamic off-kilter, and by the time they return to London and finally get back to "normal," "normal" has changed. "Normal" is now Crystal's bright laughter, Niko's earnest affection, and Edwin's faint smiles. "Normal" is an unnameable ball of emotions tangled up in Charles' chest. "Normal" is Edwin looking at him, and Charles hearing those words all over again.
Charles, I'm in love with you.
OR, Charles figures out what it means that Edwin is the only person in the world he'd run into Hell for.
When We Walk Together We Tend To Walk Alone by UneducatedAuthor
She’s never unexpected, but she’s always a surprise. And when Charles meets her, it's nothing like the nightmare he's built up in his own head, being split away from Edwin and cursed to an afterlife without him. She's kind and gentle and familiar, and she gives him a chance to say goodbye to his mother.
Or, the one where Charles meets Death. They have a lot to talk about. But it's okay. They have time.
it's you that i hold on to by lrvzender
A pair of lips press shakily on his temple. Charles Rowland’s blood definitely runs hot, Edwin decides, definitely.
“You’re not asking anything, mate. But you have to understand that you are worth saving, a thousand times over. You are worth knowing, Edwin.”
Something bigger than the whole, wide sky. Something bigger than death, perhaps.
(where Edwin does not ask to be known, but Charles knows anyway)
and your song, it haunts me like hunger does the crow by kay_cricketed
After they return to London, Charles notices an escalation in people approaching Edwin with their attentions. Which is fine! It's not that Charles is jealous. He wants Edwin to be happy and to have a chance at a fulfilling relationship, yeah? The problem is, Charles is aware that Edwin is unpracticed with these kinds of emotions and other people, and it would be very easy for someone to take advantage. And that’s not going to happen, not on Charles’ watch.
To make matters worse, the admirers are getting a little too intense. And Charles is starting to suspect there's more at work than everyone realizing his best mate is brills.
(Or: In which the damage to Edwin's soul across years of torture has had an unusual effect, and Charles needs to fix it before he's compelled to violence. Again.)
trína chéile, le chéile, claochlaithe / entangled, together, transformed by theroyalsavage
Edwin Payne and Charles Roland are not Orpheus and Eurydice. They are not tragic figures of myth, children of gods and spirits, immortalized in verse by the poets of old. They’re nothing special at all ��� just two boys too stubborn to move on. With that said, however… Edwin must admit that there are certain similarities.
Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary
"Are you a zombie?” Niko peers into Edwin’s eyes. “Because the Night Nurse told me zombies exist. Do you hunger for brains, Edwin?”
“Hardly.” Remembering being splattered with gray matter in the not-so-distant past, Edwin shudders. He cannot imagine consuming it. “I’m not a zombie.”
“What about a vampire?” She almost looks excited by the prospect. “We’re only a couple of hours from Forks. It would be perfect!””   When they’re caught during their escape from Hell, Charles and Edwin have no choice but to make a deal: they have one hundred days to find and entrap a powerful, malevolent spirit, or both of their souls are forfeit. But when they’re both temporarily restored to living bodies to aid in their search, being alive brings with it a host of new feelings, which neither of them know how to cope with, especially as their deadline looms closer and their quarry proves increasingly dangerous.
Unbreakable by Asexual_Enjolras
Edwin feels as though he owes Charles an apology because he cannot offer support to his best friend in the same way that Crystal can. And Charles tells him exactly where to stick that apology the moment he does.
Or, Edwin feels like he is broken and Charles does not agree.
after the insects have laid their claim by lolotr
“Where are you buried, do you’ve any idea?”
“My body was never found,” he replies softly. “There is a memorial marker next to my parents’ graves, but my remains are not there.”
The idea is so horrifying that it stuns Charles into silence for a couple seconds. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I know that?”
Edwin’s shoulders tense. “The whole thing is bloody tragic enough as it is.”
Grabbing his wrist, Charles begins marching them back in the direction of the pond they used to get here. Edwin doesn’t resist, but he does argue, because of course he does. “Charles, where are we going?”
“St. Hilarion’s. We’ve got a new case, don’t we?”
Hold This by RoseGanymede95
“Alright, listen,” Charles said, after trying not to think at all for at least five minutes. “Hear me out.”
“Any ideas?” Edwin asked, not looking up from his page.
“It’s just. What would actually happen if you cut my hand off?”
Edwin jerked his head up so fast, Charles wondered that he didn’t brain himself against the stone wall. He looked more offended than he had when he found out about the live snake in Charles’ bag.
“What the hell kind of a question is that?” He hissed.
“I’m not saying we should do it!” Charles backpedaled. “I’m just curious! These cuffs make us proper solid, don’t they? We could probably lop it off and get me out.”
“No,” said Edwin emphatically. “We are not discussing this. I don’t want you getting any ideas and chewing your own arm off like a trapped weasel.”
“Not my whole arm, just my hand.”
the start of something beautiful (the spoiler-free remix) by KiaraSayre
Four cases from the Dead Boy Detectives casebook, featuring amnesia, corporeality, a time loop, and a chill hang sesh.
If I'm Batman, You're Robin by ahyperactivehero
Charles misses a lot of things from life. One of those is the movies. Edwin volunteers to go with him.
XXX
“Batman Returns?” Edwin asked, reading the title. “What sort of creature is a Batman?”
Charles couldn’t help the bark of a laugh he let out. “No, he’s not a creature, mate. He’s a superhero.” At the totally blank look on Edwin’s face he tried again. “He’s like a detective. But he fights crime with his fists, too.”
“Ah,” Edwin said with a knowing look. “One of your heroes, I see.”
offer me that deathless death by websters_lieb
It takes the better part of two days for Charles’s body to even be found, and in the end, Edwin is forced to turn on all the lights in the gymnasium attic where Charles had died in order to get a janitor to come upstairs. No one had even been looking for him, yet. - or Edwin and Charles attend a funeral, look for a gravestone, and decide to become detectives.
Edwin's Payne tolerance by RabidWatermelon
Charles knew Edwin had a high pain tolerance. How could he not, having endured the tortures of hell? He just didn’t expect it to be so… useful.
AKA I want to write drabbles about Edwin's pain tolerance because I think it's something that would come up over thirty years together and be mildly concerning to someone who went through abuse in life. No fixed plot or posting schedule. Will update tags as chapter come out w new content.
The Case of Edwin's Missing Notebook by thewalkingstone
Edwin forgot his notebook at the office.
Not a problem. He prided himself on having an excellent memory. He certainly liked to jot down notes as he worked, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t work without it. He would just have to remember things until they returned to the office.
It was fine. He was a professional, and professionals did not delay an investigation because they forgot their notebook. OR Just months after escaping Hell, Edwin accidentally forgets his notebook on a case. He does not handle it well. Luckily, his new best mate is there to help him out.
The Scenic Route by DontOffendTheBees
"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."
Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."
"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with."   In which the agency takes the scenic route to their next case; and Edwin finally receives some answers he's been waiting for.
what some circumstance stole by Chrome
For a magic-user intent on siphoning pain for power, both Hob Gadling and Edwin Payne represent unique opportunities. United in dire circumstances, a man incapable of dying and a boy long dead forge an unusual friendship--and try to survive the experience. --- “When you died,” Hob said. “How old were you?” “Sixteen.” “That,” Hob said, “Is awful.” Edwin shrugged. “Life is, I’m afraid,” he said. “Can be wonderful, too,” Hob said. “I promise.”
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virgothozul · 6 months
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Summerboy !!! (Explicit) on ao3 by Nixiie (@/NixiieNoiz on twt)
Cleaning my files, found these babes. 🥺
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thebiggerbear · 9 months
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"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - CJ Braxton Prompt Response
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Summary: You had only meant to call once, remaining anonymous while feeling out the whole helpline thing for yourself. Now, you talk to CJ every Friday night around the same time. When you don't call one Friday, CJ is worried and comes looking for you which presents its own host of problems.
Pairing: CJ Braxton x Female!Reader; CJ Braxton x College Student!Female!Reader
A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I initially wasn't going to write anything for CJ but this idea popped into my head for this prompt and I just had to write it. And I absolutely fell in love with the dynamic between CJ and the reader (and had so much fun with this). Please forgive any timeline tomfoolery or anything time wise that makes you go "huh?"; I was trying to make this work throughout the season from CJ's entry into the show (and his conversation with Jen about the helpline) to the end.
I wasn't much of a Dawson's Creek person back in the day (I still haven't seen seasons 2-5), so I hope this came out alright. I tried to keep it as 2000-ish as possible. I remember back in the day not everyone had a cell phone like Dawson, Audrey, and Pacey (though a lot of people were getting them moving into the beginning of the decade) so that rule kind of applied here so to speak.
This is meant to take place during s6 before Jen joins The Stand.
Sequel here
Warnings: implied sex; panic attacks; implied anxiety
Word Count: 15k+
Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
CJ Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx
This was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.
"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."
Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ Alec version ✨ SDV Leah version
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You glanced at the clock, seeing it was 6:59. One more minute and you’d pick up the phone as you did every Friday night and make the call you always did. Your nerves thrummed in anticipation as you stared down the clock, willing the numbers to turn.
Eventually, you got your wish and as soon as the 7 appeared on the clock face you picked up the phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart. After a few rings, the call finally connected. 
“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey.”
“There she is.” You could hear his own smile in his tone as he recognized you. “How are you, Jo?”
You winced at the fake name you had given him. At the time, you had quickly scrambled and chose the first name that came to mind. Granted, Joey Potter was in the same school as you so you weren’t too worried about him finding out about either of you seeing as he was from Boston Bay. But as you had talked with him more and more, you really wished you hadn’t given him any name but your own. Even if you were beyond terrified; you felt bad for lying to him.
Why should it matter, right? He was a volunteer counselor for a teen helpline at another college. Why would you care what this one person thought out of you?
Well, unbeknownst to him, you had seen him once and you knew who he was. Thanks to Joey and Audrey’s friendship with Jen, you had come to hear quite a bit about the cute tall guy whose voice made your heart rate speed up way too fast. Jen had even invited him out to a house party and that was when you saw him for the first time. Your nerves got to you and you bounced before one of your friends could make an introduction. Partly because you were afraid he would recognize you from your voice and immediately put a face to the name and possibly be disappointed or worse: he’d know you lied to him. So you avoided him at all costs — well, in person.
It wasn’t like you had planned for this to happen, where you would call a helpline weekly just to speak to a certain boy. That’s not how this started at all.
When you got to Worthington, you were homesick, overwhelmed, and overall terrified. While you eventually eased into the college student lifestyle and Boston was now home, you never really got past the overwhelmed feeling, and terrified had dialed down to being anxious all the time: anxious that you would mess up, anxious that you would fail, anxious that your future wouldn’t turn out the way you planned — all of it. There were days you felt like you were just scraping by, barely making a passing grade (though your final grade usually proved you wrong), and you felt like you were some sort of imposter who was soon to be found out and didn’t really belong. Meeting Joey and her roommate, Audrey Liddell, who lived down the hall from you, helped some, and their introducing you to their group of friends helped even more. But there were still times that you just felt…tightly wound and about to snap. As if you had too many balls in the air and you were about to trip, and all the balls would fall to the ground.
So when Jen mentioned to the group about some guy wanting her to join a teen helpline for the college, you quietly paid attention. She laughed it off — his approach, not the helpline — and she didn’t think she would be right for it so that was that. While everyone else began to talk and laugh about another topic, the wheels in your head slowly started to turn inside your head. A helpline where you could remain anonymous and talk to someone who would listen and could possibly even help. You knew your school most likely had one of those but you wouldn’t even dream of risking it. But a helpline elsewhere where you could talk to someone who maybe understood how you were feeling most of the time, maybe experienced similar things, and you were able to stay anonymous? That you could look into.
After much back and forth in your mind over it, you took the leap and made the call one Friday night after a particularly rough week. You really didn’t think anyone would pick up, it was close to 7:00 and most college kids were either out or getting ready to go out…right?
Before you could answer your own question to yourself, the line connected.
“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”
You did what any other person would do; you promptly hung up. You stared at your phone in terror. Someone had picked up. A guy. Just when you were convincing yourself that this was stupid and you needed to take a chill pill and deal.
You argued with yourself in your head for about another minute, hemming and hawing over it all. Wasn’t the whole point of you calling to try to do something about how you’d been feeling? You supposed you could always see a therapist here in town but that could be costly, even with insurance. You also had no desire to tell your parents because they would respond the same way they did the last time you tried to allude to how overwhelmed you were when you had returned home for the summer.
“You should be grateful you got into such a great school, Y/N. Most people would kill to be in your position, going after their degree. You don’t see your classmates moping about, do you? Just because they have classes and homework,” your mother had made sure to prick you with that pin of guilt. “Make the best of it.”
“You know what I think? I think you need to get yourself some friends and then you’ll stop focusing on this so much. If you have nothing to fill your time, of course your mind is going to obsess over what you’re viewing as negative. Try to join a club or a social group. They have keggers all the time. I remember back when I was in college. It was party city every weekend. Maybe let loose a little one of these Saturday nights and things will start to get better. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even make some friends.”
“Thanks, Dad,” you mumbled, tossing your overeasy egg onto its side with your fork, your eyes trained on your plate. You knew he was just trying to help — they both were — but their attitude seemed to imply that you could simply hit an off switch somewhere and you’d stop feeling so overwhelmed. If only.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to take their advice. You had gone to some frat party and it had been one of the worst experiences of your life. You weren’t a big drinker and you weren’t really a party person in general. You didn’t really recognize anyone from your classes or your dorm and the music was so loud, it seemed like a ridiculous notion to try to approach someone and start a conversation. Not something you were very good at anyway. You had no idea how to play the drinking games you saw, other than what you’d seen on TV, and you didn’t want to do something to mess up anyone’s scores if you didn’t do it right. Then some hulk of a guy accidentally knocked into you, deluging you in beer, and he was so drunk, he didn’t even apologize, just kept on going. After about an hour (and the unintended beer bath), you decided to call it quits.  
That night, you had gone back to your dorm room which was blissfully empty, taken a hot shower, and then sobbed into your pillow. So much so that when a drunken Audrey accidentally stumbled into your room, she saw your tear-stained face when your head snapped up and immediately asked what was wrong and why you were crying in her room of all things. Despite the back and forth over whose room it actually was and her drunken state along with the slurring of her words, you two actually kind of hit it off. Before long she had you laughing, something you felt like you hadn’t done in some time. She passed out in your roommate’s bed, much to your roommate’s chagrin, but when Audrey’s boyfriend and roommate came to get her the next morning, you figured that had been it. Your one social interaction with someone who didn’t look at you as an unwanted intruder every single day (like your roommate) or like you were some loner weirdo (like most of your classmates). You knew that Audrey would probably either ignore you the next time she ran into you or she wouldn’t remember you at all. 
Boy, had you been wrong. The day after her hangover, she had been knocking on your door, smiling and telling you that you were going out with her for the night. Just like that. She introduced you to her roommate, Joey, and their group of friends. You had been inducted into their group of friends, just like that.
Eventually, Jen mentioned the helpline that one night and now here you were, staring at the phone as if it was about to come to life and do a dance or something. You waited a few more minutes, deciding you’d try again and hopefully get someone else. There couldn’t be only one person answering phones at a helpline, could there? That would make for some backed up phone traffic and not a good look for a helpline at all. Maybe you’d be lucky and the guy would have already had another caller he was speaking to so another counselor would have to pick up.
When the clock turned to 7:11, you slowly picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number again. You began to jiggle your leg as you waited for the line to connect.
“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”
Oh crap. You froze.
“Hello?”
What did you do? You wanted to hang the phone up again but you were unable to. 
“Hello?” He asked again.
No. You were going to be a mature adult about this and answer him. Just as soon as you could breathe. You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and exhaled a breath.
“Look, if you’re in trouble or can’t talk, just hit a button. Any button will work.” A minute passed while you were trying to breathe, getting ready to talk. “If you don’t have a crisis and you’re not calling to speak to someone here, then I think you should hang up and let other people who need us call in. No use in tying up the phone lines.”
Another minute passed. You really were trying your hardest to get words out but your chest was tight and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your heart was racing yet you were frozen. This happened sometimes but usually you were by yourself, not with someone waiting for you to speak on the other end of the phone line. It also happened a couple of times while you were out with your friends, but usually you hid out in a bathroom stall until it passed and then you left to go back to your dorm with the excuse of a test the next day or a project due, whatever you could come up with on the fly. You didn’t understand why it was happening to you right now, though.
“Alright, I’m going to hang up now.”
You smashed a key on your phone so fast that you heard a loud annoying sound in your ear. Immediately, the guy’s tone changed. 
“Okay, I’m here. If you’re in trouble, hit the key again. If you’re not but can’t talk at the moment, don’t hit it.”
You didn’t hit any more keys and gasped for air that just wasn’t coming.
“Good. I’m glad you’re okay. Is someone in the room with you and that’s why you can’t talk? If so, hit the key again.” 
You moved over to your bed and laid down. That was the fastest way to get your body to relax when you had the option you’d found out.
“Okay, so you’re alone but you can’t talk but you’re not in trouble. Can you just try to say one word or make a sound so I know you’re really okay?” 
You removed your hand from the mouthpiece. “T-Trying,” you rasped out. Holy crap, this was a bad episode you were having. You were completely mortified. Perhaps you really should hang up. You were worried, though, that now he might notify someone or think you really were prank calling the helpline. Either way, you were bound to get in trouble and even more embarrassed, and that just made your chest tighter.
“Okay. That’s good. I’ll take that. Do you have asthma or something similar?” 
Great. That’s how bad you’d sounded; he thought you might actually have some sort of breathing issue. Well, technically, you were struggling to breathe right now so it made sense that he would think that but if he only knew the actual answer was something that was beyond ridiculous and couldn’t be explained away as something as serious as asthma. 
“No,” you whispered, rubbing at the spot in your chest where a mix of discomfort and a heavy-rock-feeling sat. 
“And you’re sure you don’t need to go to the hospital to get checked out?” He sounded concerned now. 
“No,” you repeated, staring up at your ceiling, your vision blurring with building tears. All you wanted to do was give this helpline thing a shot since nothing else seemed to be working, and here you had gone and made it so much worse. On top of that, you were frustrated that you couldn’t even do something as simple as answer a person when they said hello on a phone call that you made to them. What was wrong with you? 
“Okay. That’s good. Why don’t I talk for a minute so you can relax?” A tear slipped down your cheek when you realized he must have heard your heavy exhales over the phone. “Like I said before, my name is CJ. I’ve been with the helpline for a while now. I’m here four days a week. I try to schedule shifts around my classes and pick up a few extra when I’m able. Before you called, I was doing some reading for my Philosophy class. It’s not my major but I had to take another humanities course. It was that or religion so…philosophy it was.”
You closed your eyes and focused on his voice. It was actually very soothing and it was helping.
“Between you and me, I’m not the best student.” Your eyes opened and you stared at the ceiling, listening intently. “I mean, I do okay in terms of grades, but I’m not exactly a frequent flier on the Dean’s list.” He chuckled and after a moment, he asked, “How about you?”
You swallowed, feeling the slightest bit of easing up on your chest, almost if it was allowing the words through. “I do okay.” You didn’t sound as raspy as before but you still had a faint wheeze at the end. You were coming out of this, slowly but surely.
“That’s good. College sure isn’t easy, by any means. When midterms roll around, I always get a little more stressed. I usually have to blow off some steam to keep it all balanced, you know? Or else I get easily overwhelmed. I have to remind myself to take it one class at a time, one day at a time. But easier said than done sometimes, right?”
“Right.” You knew what he was doing but since it seemed to be helping, you played along. He was getting to the heart of the issue while also giving you time to come back down. You’d only been on the phone with him for close to ten minutes and already you felt much better than you had when the call started. 
“How are you feeling? Any better?”
“A little.” 
“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Is my being the one to talk helping any?”
“Actually…yeah,” you breathed out. 
“Does this happen a lot?”
You bit at your lip, not really wanting to admit it, but you had called for this very reason, hadn’t you? “Yeah.”
“Around midterms or anytime?”
“Anytime.”
“Even when you’re not in school?”
“Sometimes,” you whispered. “But mostly when I’m here.”
“So school related then?”
“Kind of.”
He was quiet for a moment and you wondered if you had said something wrong or if he was looking instructions up in a pamphlet or something for this sort of thing. 
“Hey, did you see Phantom Menace when it came out last year?”
That caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected to switch gears so quickly. “Um, no?”
“You’re not a Star Wars fan, I take it?”
He didn’t sound disappointed so you chalked that up to being a good thing. Most guys you’d met either were completely into Star Wars or weren’t into it at all. “I don’t know if I’d call myself a fan but I’ve seen the original movies.” 
“Uh oh, you’re not one of those prequel snobs, are you?” He teased.
“No? I just saw the trailer and I wasn’t interested.”
“Well, a buddy of mine and I went to see it when it came out. The theater was packed. I’m talking bursting at the seams.” A small smile started to creep onto your face at his energy. “And when the lights went down and the opening credits started rolling and the music started up, everyone was cheering and clapping. It was pretty awesome. My buddy ended up loving it. He’s the biggest Star Wars fan you’ve ever met.” A moment later he asked, “So besides anything in a galaxy, far far away, have you seen any other movies that came out?”
“I went to see The Green Mile. My, uh, my dad is a big Tom Hanks fan and a Stephen King fan so he really wanted to go.”
“And you?”
“I liked it. Though it was sad.” 
“I didn’t see it yet but I got the feeling that it was going to be a bit of a heavy one.”
“It was, but it was worth it.” You noticed then that you were talking to him normally, you were breathing normally, your chest was still a little tight but that was to be expected, and you were sitting up with your back to the wall. You had gotten through your latest episode and this CJ had helped. Perhaps there was something to this helpline thing after all.
“I’m definitely going to check it out then. Thanks.” 
“You’re welcome.”
Almost as if he had heard your thoughts, he then said, “You sound a lot better than earlier. Hopefully, you’re feeling better, too?”
“Um, yeah.” You anxiously tucked your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. You know, being patient…”
“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Right.”
“So, you feel up to telling me what’s going on and why you called tonight or did you want to talk about something else?”
You bit at your thumbnail, unsure. “I feel bad. I’ve taken up so much of your time already.” You glanced at the clock and saw that you had been on the phone with him now for almost half an hour. 
“Don’t worry about the time and I don’t want you feeling badly.” He sounded completely genuine when he said it and it made you feel a little bit better about monopolizing his time like this. “This is why I’m here. So, if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”
You still weren’t certain you should take him up on his offer. “Are you sure? What if there’s someone else who needs to call in who is having an actual crisis and you’re stuck on the phone with me? I would feel bad if they didn’t get to talk to you when they needed to because of me.”
“I’m not the only one here so if someone else does call in, they’ll speak to one of the other counselors who can help them. While we’re on the subject, what you’re experiencing is just as valid as what anyone else might be experiencing. I’m not stuck on the phone with you, I want to be talking with you and try to help you in any way I can. And yes, I’m sure.”
You contemplated it, turning it over and over in your brain. This was why you called. This was why you decided to give the helpline a try, to speak to a stranger who would listen and possibly be able to help you and if not, at least maybe understand where you were coming from. If he was willing (and he had been helpful so far), then why not?
“Would it help if I promise not to make any more Star Wars references?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Tremendously.” 
“Deal,” he laughed. You liked the sound of his laugh; it was warm, inviting, and put you instantly at ease. This CJ seemed to know what he was doing and you could now see why people called in to speak to him and other counselors like him. 
You nervously licked your lips and decided to take the plunge. You told him everything. You told him about how it started when you began college, how the classes and workload immediately overwhelmed you. How you struggled to keep from drowning in assignments and tests and projects and papers. How you started to develop these episodes and how badly you felt during them. How you had tried to talk to your parents but they just didn’t seem to hear you, dismissing it as an issue that would be resolved by you being more outgoing and feeling more grateful that you had such an educational opportunity when many didn’t. How you could be in a room full of a hundred people and still feel completely alone, especially when an episode kicked in. You’d even told him about your failed attempt at attending the frat party. He had rarely talked, giving you the floor, but he had interjected a couple of times to either support you or make some helpful suggestions. Other than that, he just listened. By the time you finished, you felt like you had told him your whole life story, but you had to admit that you felt a lot better once you got it all off your chest, which incidentally, was feeling lighter. And this time, someone listened and actually heard you. That made all the difference.
You glanced at the clock for the first time in a long time and noted it was 10:16. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your cheeks immediately heating up. Had you really been talking nonstop for over three hours? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I should let you go so you can speak to other callers.”
“My shift ended fifteen minutes ago actually.”
Your heart stopped and however much better you’d been feeling, felt like it went right down the drain. How could you have been so self-absorbed and only concerned with your problems that you’d talked his ear off and used up his whole shift? Not one other person got to talk to him tonight and you didn’t even go to that school. Seriously, how selfish were you? “I-I’m so, so sorry. You should have stopped me or told me there was a time limit per call.” You were full on babbling now. “I didn’t mean to— I am so beyond sorry. I’m going to let you go. Thank you so much for your help and I hope you have a good rest of your night. Don’t worry. I promise I won’t call again. Good night.”
You went to hang up the phone when you heard loudly, “Please don’t hang up.”
You put it back to your ear, your brows drawing together in confusion. “But you said your shift was over.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “But that’s okay. If I wanted you to stop talking, I would have said something. And did I ask you to stop?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then I didn’t want you to stop talking. It seems like there’s a lot on your plate at the moment or else you wouldn’t have called, right?”
“Okay, yeah. But—”
“So it’s good that you called and I’m glad I was able to help. And for the record, there’s no time limit on a call.” Someone said something to him in the background and he quietly responded though you couldn’t hear what he said. “I’m actually gonna get going because my replacement is here and they don’t have another place to sit.”��
“Right. Of course. Again, sorry.”
“But,” he continued. “I’m going to be here Monday afternoon around 2 so if you want to call back then we can talk again.”
“I have class then.” You truly did but even if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be calling him back. You had taken up enough of his time.
“I’m here until 6:00 that day.”
“I have a study session after that class.” Okay, maybe that was a lie. “But I appreciate the offer. Thank you and have a good—”
“I’m back on again next Friday. Same time. Why don’t you call me then if you’re free?”
“I appreciate it, CJ, but don’t worry. If I need the helpline again, I’ll call, but you helped me a lot tonight and I feel better so…I won’t need to call. Again, I’m sorry I monopolized your shift.”
“Do me a favor and call me again anyway, even if you are feeling better. I’d like to check in with you and the only way I can do that is if you call me back.”
“Right. Being anonymous and all,” you mumbled. Thank God for that. You didn’t think your embarrassment at talking his head off for over three hours while you complained about your life would ever go away.
“Yeah. So, please, if you can call me next week, same time, even if you just tell me you’re feeling better and hang up. That’s all I ask.”
You supposed you could do that, after he’d generously taken the time to hear you out, after he’d helped you through your episode. “Okay.”
“Friday, 7:00. Promise me.”
“I promise,” you whispered.
And so had begun the tradition of you calling him every Friday night at 7:00. You hadn’t intended for that to happen, honestly. But each time you would talk to him, ranging in times from twenty minutes to an hour and a half (you refused to ever get near that three hour mark again, no matter what he said), he would always ask you to call him back the following week, making you promise that you would. Over time, you noticed that your overwhelmed feeling had lessened considerably (though not completely gone) and instead of having an episode (or panic attack as CJ called them) twice weekly, they had now diminished to one every couple of weeks. And even then they weren’t as bad as they had been, thanks to the techniques CJ suggested you try using. Things had gotten better for you and you had to admit, the helpline definitely was a useful service for students, though for your own personal experience, you attributed a lot of that to CJ.
Speaking of which, that was how you two began to get to know one another, moving from strictly counselor and caller into a tentative friendship. When initially speaking to him, he began to feel like a friend you were just catching up with on how your past week had been, and then it actually sort of became that. He started to tell you more details about himself and now you knew what type of music he liked, what he was majoring in, where he had grown up, and why he had joined The Stand. He had even shared his backstory with you and why he didn’t drink when you told him how uncomfortable college parties made you in general. The conversation was no longer one-sided and you’d come to like it that way.
Until the day came when he asked your name. 
“My name?”
“Well, yeah, so I know what to call you. It feels weird calling you “you” all the time,” he laughed.
“Um…” You were practically crapping bricks. You didn’t expect this.
“Just your first name. You’ll still be anonymous,” he reassured. “It could be a nickname if you want. Or your middle name. Just something.”
You ran over it in your mind. What if he still somehow managed to find out who you were if you gave him only your first name? Sure, you weren’t going to the same schools, but what if somehow someway…? Plus, your friends weren’t exactly fans of CJ right now. Apparently, Jen had a major crush on him but her hopes were dashed when he told her he didn’t date (something he had told you long before you heard it via your friends) and then hooked up with Audrey the same night. You hadn’t been there that night, opting to stay in and study for a huge test you had coming up in your Lit class, and after hearing that not only had CJ been present but also what happened, you were glad you had made that decision. Audrey and Joey were on the outs thanks to the events of that night and now so were Jen and Audrey once it was revealed that CJ and Audrey had slept together, right before Pacey punched his face in. 
When that Friday rolled around, you almost didn’t call him. You were angry and hurt yourself. Angry because his careless actions had hurt more than one of your friends, and hurt because truth be told, you had started to crush on him yourself from afar. You trusted him with the details of your life, very personal details (without giving specifics obviously), and he’d helped you. How could he be this helpful, compassionate guy working at a helpline but turn out to be this scummy, advantage-taking, selfish player? You couldn’t reconcile in your head the CJ you were getting to know with the CJ your friends saw.
“That’s just the thing, Y/N,” Jen told you when you wondered aloud how a helpline counselor could do something like he had with your friends. “Most people who go into those positions to help other people are usually a thousand times more screwed up than the people they’re helping. Audrey’s been hurting, as you know, and she’s been acting out and he saw an opportunity. Case closed.” But it wasn’t case closed for you. Not by a mile. You wanted answers, but how could you get them while remaining anonymous?
So that following Friday at 7:00, as you angrily punched in the helpline number, you had no idea how you would do it but you were determined to get them. And if you didn’t like what you heard, then this would be your last call and you would close the book on CJ and your budding friendship for good.
It caught you off guard, though, when you heard a different voice this time.
“Hello, Helpline. This is David.”
You nearly hung up. You knew David; he was starting to hang out with your group more and more, especially Jack. What if he recognized your voice?
“Hello?”
You forced yourself to ask the burning question on the tip of your tongue, albeit with a slightly higher pitch of voice. “Hi, is CJ there?”
“No, I’m sorry.” You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and let out a sigh of relief. Whether it was because David didn’t recognize you or you didn’t have to confront CJ right this second, you couldn’t be sure. Probably a bit of both. “He called out sick and asked me to fill in for him. He should be back next week, though.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll call then. Thank you.” You quickly hung up before he could ask you anything else.
The next Friday you called, you got CJ.
“Hey,” he greeted, sounding relieved when he heard your voice. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” You were standing in your dorm room, staring out the window and watching the rain, your arms crossed. You weren’t as angry as last week, the extra time allowing you to let a cooler head prevail, but you still wanted answers. “How are you?”
“Honestly? I’ve been better.”
“I’m sorry. I know you were sick last week. Has it not gotten any better?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was feeling lousy and just needed to take a day, you know?” And he didn’t need to be parading around a still-healing black eye that might prompt questions, you bet. 
“I get that.”
“God, I wish I had your number outside of this so I could call you.” Your jaw tightened. Perhaps your friends were right; there was a whole other side to him. A side you didn’t really want to get to know. “I really could’ve used a friend to talk to.”
You unclenched your jaw when you realized he wasn’t hitting on you and when you thought about it, he sounded genuinely miserable and he never had in any of your previous conversations, even when your friendship formed. It was unlike him, or at least the CJ you had gotten to know. Just like this behavior your friends had told you about sounded unlike him. “Well, I’m here now, if you want to talk.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to make this about me. You called in to talk, not to hear about my problems,” he laughed, sounding nervous. That was a first.
“I’m sure. What are friends for?”
He told you everything while not naming anyone. He didn’t hold back anything and you realized that while he didn’t know who you were, he was giving you the side that had been missing from the story your friends told you: his side. Every side has a story after all. He admitted he had messed up big time. He had hurt Jen (or Blondie as he called her), he had been an ass to Pacey (or The Guy Who Punched My Face) when he had no right to be, and he should have never hooked up with Audrey (or The Girl That Came Out of Nowhere). Apparently, Jen had said to him the same thing she said to you and it got him thinking, along with some things Audrey had said. He felt like a huge jerk and all he wanted to do was keep his head down and move forward, get back on the right track that his life had been headed in. You stayed silent as he talked and before you knew it, the clock read 9:47. 
“Your shift is over soon,” you whispered once he was done.
“Yeah, but I still have a few minutes. So what do you think? Am I a complete jackass or what?” He let out another nervous chuckle.
You briefly pressed your lips together as you thought of how best to answer that. In the end, you were as honest as you could be without giving yourself away. “I think we all make mistakes sometimes. But as long as we recognize them, apologize to those we’ve hurt, and try to do better, then that’s all that matters. So no, not a complete jackass.” 
This time when he laughed, it sounded relieved. “Thanks.”
“Of course. That’s what I’m here for,” you repeated his words back to him, teasing him slightly.
A moment of silence passed between you before he asked, “Will you call again next week?”
That made you do a double take. He never asked you to call the following week like that. Usually he asked in the form of making you promise you would call or he’d tell you he’d talk to you the following week. But when he asked like this, he sounded uncertain, vulnerable. You knew then that more than just his face and ego had been hurt by recent events. Perhaps you were a fool but you believed his remorse to be genuine. 
“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’ll call next week.”
And when you did, he immediately hit you with the name question. 
“Earth to you…” He called, snapping you out of it and reclaiming your attention. “See? It doesn’t really work,” he laughed.
You had to be careful here. Not only because you didn’t want him to find out who you were but also because if your friends ever found out, especially Audrey…you were toast. 
You opened your mouth to give him the name of a classmate that couldn’t be traced back to you but “Jo” came tumbling out instead.
“Jo?”
Oh crap. You had Audrey and then Joey on your mind and it just slipped out. Crap, crap, crap. “Yeah,” you lied. “Jo.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jo.” You could practically hear him smiling, happy to have gotten a name out of you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, angry with yourself. “Nice to meet you, too,” you mumbled before you dropped your head into your hands.  
So now here you were, him thinking you were Jo from the college he was attending, and you were calling him every single week at the same time like clock work. You had long ago stopped questioning the morality of what you were doing and it seemed that he didn’t appear to question it at all. He was always happy to hear from you and your conversations were more personal now. You couldn’t deny the way your heart rate spiked every time you heard his voice when he picked up the call or how whenever his name was mentioned in passing by David or Jen (though rare these days), you would specifically tune in, listening for anything that had to do with him. You had it bad and you knew it, but it was also a safe crush from a distance and would be staying that way.
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your reverie and remembered CJ has asked you a question. “I’m good. Really good. How about you?”
“Really good, huh? I’m happy to hear it and happy to be hearing from you.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I got that paper back and you were so right, The Writing Center really helped. I can’t believe I never thought to try it before. Thank you so much for that idea.”
“I’m happy to be of service,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it helped. And the club thing? Did you give that a try as well?”
Your smile dropped. He had been trying to urge you to join a club or a group where you had shared interests with other students. His theory was that if you gave a small group of people a shot doing a social activity you might enjoy, that it might help decrease your nervousness in other social settings. Even though you told him you had a group of friends you regularly met up with, he didn’t think expanding your social circles would be a bad thing to consider. “No? I told you, CJ, that’s not really my thing.”
“I get that, I do. How about this? If you want, I could meet you at Student Activities and we could take a look around together, get some info. No pressure, of course, but you wouldn’t have to walk in there alone. I know it can be a bit much sometimes. I remember my first semester here and I didn’t know where to stick my head.”
You froze. That was the first time he’d ever mentioned the possibility of you meeting in person. Perhaps if you were really Jo from Boston Bay College, you could take him up on it or give him your number like he’d asked you for or call his room number like he’d offered up a few times now so you could talk outside of the helpline. But you weren’t and so you had to decline. “I appreciate the offer but it’s not my thing so I’m going to have to pass. Sorry, but thank you, though.” 
“If you’re sure.” He sounded slightly disappointed but maybe that was just you imagining it. 
“Yep, I’m sure. Uh, so listen, I can’t stay on long. My roommate and her boyfriend will be here in less than ten so I’m gonna go so I can get out of here before I get hit by the clothes hurricane that’s most likely to happen.” It was a complete lie. Your roommate, Stacey, had actually gone to visit her boyfriend for the weekend. You would have peace and quiet and the dorm to yourself for two whole days. 
He chuckled good-naturedly. “I don’t blame you. If you get bored later, I’m here at The Stand until 10:00, like you already know, and then I’ll be back in my room. You can call me then if you want to talk. I”ll be up for a while so don’t worry about calling too late.”
“Oh. Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that.” You weren’t going to and he knew you weren’t going to. You hadn’t the last two times he’d made the same offer and the last two times you’d given him the same response.
“Jo?”
“Yeah?”
“If I don’t hear from you… Call next week, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed, smiling, like always. You said your quick goodbyes and you hung up, letting out a heavy breath. While he had been urging you to contact him personally, he had never mentioned meeting him before. That was different. And it worried you at the same time. Why the offer now? Granted, he was just trying to be helpful to you, given the context, but what if he began to find other ways to work it in like he already had about your phone numbers? What if he continued to push to meet Jo? 
You shook your head, telling yourself that you were doing it again, worrying over things that might not happen. You would cross that bridge when you came to it, something CJ had once said to you that you kept for yourself as your own personal mantra. You would wait to see how next week would go.
But unfortunately, the call never happened.
You had been out with Jack and David on Thursday night at Hell’s Kitchen, when Jen waltzed in, smiling and taking a seat. Joey and Emma were working and Pacey was supposed to join you later.
“You worked late today,” Jack commented. 
“Training took a little bit longer than expected. We were supposed to be done at 6:00 but then our relief called and said they were going to be late. Of course, since CJ was going to stay, I wasn’t going to just leave him there.” Your ears perked up at the mention of CJ. You knew Jen was training as a counselor and he was the one training her. Jen had begrudgingly forgiven CJ but it was also obvious to you all that she still had a crush on him. While you couldn’t blame her, you also felt for her. CJ told you that he had to make it clear once more to Blondie that he wasn’t looking to date though he was happy she had finally started training at the helpline. He really believed she would make a great counselor once she settled into it. 
Talk about complicated. Jen was your friend and you didn’t want to see her get hurt, but you could also understand if CJ didn’t see her that way, he just didn’t. They were both your friends now and you just wanted them both to be happy, whatever that looked like.
“But then, listen to this,” she continued. “Our relief, this guy named Seth, sees me there with CJ and starts teasing him about how he’s racking up all of these beautiful girls through the helpline, not leaving any for him.”
“Jen,” Jack warned. 
“No, listen. This is good. You’re going to like this.” 
Jack sighed but let her finish.
“CJ laughs it off but then Seth mentions how he has this girl calling him every Friday night, around the same time, and she talks his ear off for hours.”
You were about to take a bite of your french fry when you froze. Your heart dropped down to your feet. 
“And so I ask if this is true and CJ says that we’re there to help everybody, time limits aren’t a thing, and it doesn’t matter how many times a caller calls back or they speak to the same counselor. As long as they get the help they need.”
“He’s right,” David chimed in.
“But then Seth starts teasing him again and asks if CJ can give him tips on how to get dates using the helpline. CJ laughs and says sure. I mention how he said he wasn’t looking to date and Seth says he tells every girl that so he doesn’t have to commit but can still get what he wants.” You dropped your fry back into your basket, trying to ignore the rolling nausea in your stomach. 
“I don’t know about that,” David chuckled nervously.
“He didn’t deny it, David. He just laughed and walked away. Can you believe it? He’s using the helpline to get girls. Talk about abusing the system, not to mention the absolute lack of morality.” You definitely felt like you were going to be sick. “I quit. If that’s what guys like him and Seth are using that helpline for then I don’t want any part of it. And CJ? Audrey was right. He’s a skeevy player. I can’t believe I didn’t see it this whole time.” Jen shook her head. You were getting that all-too familiar falling feeling again. 
“Wait, seriously? Guys are using the helpline to pick up girls?” Jack turned to David.
“No. Jen, I’m sure Seth was just kidding and CJ was just playing along. Nobody is using the helpline to pick anyone up. Everyone that works there knows the rules and they’re there to help callers. How could they pick anyone up, anyway? It’s all anonymous.”
“Yeah, but if they pushed for a date or something… It could happen.” You immediately felt your stomach jolt and like someone had punched you in the gut at the same time.
“It could,” David agreed. “But I doubt it does.”
“He has the same girl calling him every single week at the same time. What would keep her calling like that?” Jen interjected. You glanced away from the table for a moment, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer David would give.
“Is that true? Every week?” Jack asked in disbelief.
“It’s true,” David confirmed. “I actually got her once when CJ was out sick. She sounded nice.” If you could have, you would have given him a smile, thankful for David’s attempt to defend CJ and the helpline and unknowingly you. But right then, you were trying not to hyperventilate. “And CJ appears to be helping her. He said she’s made a lot of progress since they started talking.”
“He talked to you about her?” Jen looked shocked. Oh God. Your chest started to feel tight.
“Only because he was going to be out sick that one day and in case she called and then decided to talk to me, he wanted me to be up to speed in case she needed something. That’s all.”
“I feel badly for this girl. She probably thinks CJ is some great guy and she can trust him but based on what Seth said, he’s simply playing the long game with her. A girl whose trust he’s taking advantage of. I’m telling you, Audrey was right about him and I should’ve seen it.” Jen rubbed at her forehead. It was beyond hot in here and even though it wasn’t crowded, the room started to feel smaller.
“I don’t think that’s true, Jen,” David defended. “I don’t think he’s looking to take advantage of this girl at all. I think he truly wants to help her.”
“Yeah, that’s how it started with Audrey and look at how that turned out.” David dropped his gaze to his food, continuing to poke at it with his fork. There wasn’t much he could say to that though he wished he still would. “And if that’s true, he only wants to help her, then why was he laughing along when Seth talked about her and how she keeps him on the phone for hours? How is that helping her?”
You felt like your feet were locked in cement but your legs were wobbling to and fro. And yet you also felt like a large boulder was now sitting on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. How could any of this conversation be happening right now?
Jack glanced from David to Jen. “Perhaps David’s right, Jen. Maybe he was just playing along. That’s what guys do sometimes. You know that.”
“I don’t think that’s what that was. Either way, I quit.”
Jack and David started to urge her not to quit, but at that point you’d had enough. Your hands were clammy and you felt that feeling on your forehead, too. You needed cold, and air. “Excuse me,” you nearly rasped out and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. You could feel your dinner coming back up. Joey stopped you in your trek.
“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
You shook your head and dodged past her, hurrying to the bathroom. Once you reached it, you locked the door and pushed into a stall just in time. You emptied the contents of your stomach and once you were finished, you made your way towards the sink, splashing cold water on your face. You could feel the panic attack you were having and you tried your best to ward it off but to no avail.
You slid down the wall and struggled to breathe, trying the techniques CJ had taught you. You didn’t want to think about him right now but you also didn’t want to be having this happen while your friends sat right outside. Not to mention, you knew Joey was going to come check on you. You gasped for air and rubbed at your chest. Once it passed, you unlocked the door, made excuses to Joey and your friends, went home, showered, and cried yourself to sleep. For the first time in a while, you’d had a particularly bad episode and ended the night in tears: two things you hadn’t done since you’d started talking to CJ regularly. You felt as if all the progress you’d made was like a house of cards that fell to the ground after one card was pulled out from under you. And all because you’d trusted the wrong person. 
So you stopped calling and instead, spent your Friday nights at the library, studying, so you wouldn’t be tempted to pick up the phone and call to confront the guy who’d betrayed your trust.
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A few weeks later, you were sitting on Joey’s bed, watching Audrey unload her closet onto her mattress. Apparently, she was going to rehab, for real this time. She was ready to confront the fact that her drinking was out of control. Joey was helping her sort through everything and handed you things to fold and place in her suitcase. Eddie had already taken one heavy suitcase down to the car, along with a very high Bob. 
You all looked up when there was a polite knock on their dorm room door. Joey got up to answer it, most likely thinking it was Eddie, but when she opened the door, it revealed another guy altogether.
There stood CJ, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a jacket covering his tall frame. Your heart skipped a beat before falling into your stomach but then leaping back into place and pounding faster than before for a whole other reason. You immediately grabbed a magazine from the nightstand and began sifting through it, your jaw clenched and you refusing to look in his direction.
Before anyone could say a word, Audrey groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw CJ hold up a placating hand in her direction. “I’m not here for you, okay? I’m actually looking for someone.”
You froze.
“I bet you are,” Audrey grumbled.
Joey crossed her arms. “Who?”
“A girl by the name of Jo who lives in this building.”
You mentally cursed yourself. You knew you had let the name of your dorm building slip once by accident but he hadn’t appeared to have heard you so you thought you were in the clear; apparently, he had heard you. Crap.
Joey tensed. Uh oh. You had a feeling this was going to come back to haunt you at some point. Here it was. “Why are you looking for me?”
CJ’s brow drew together. “You’re Jo?”
Audrey was suddenly at Joey’s side. “Yeah, why are you looking for her?”
“Jo is a girl who called the helpline. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks and I just wanted to check on her.”
Her distaste for CJ forgotten, Audrey turned in shock to her roommate. “Joey Potter, you called the helpline?”
“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous, Audrey.” Joey then looked at CJ. “I don’t know who this girl is but it’s not me. Good luck in your search.” She went to close the door but CJ stopped her.
“Wait, so you’ve never heard of a girl named Jo who lives in this building?”
“No,” Audrey snapped. “Now, go away.”
“Hold on a second. Because Joanna Martin who lives on the 2nd floor isn’t her and has never heard of her. Now you’re saying you’re not her and you’ve never heard of her either?”
Audrey gave him a nasty smirk. “Imagine that. A girl using a fake name calling an anonymous helpline. She probably knows what a sleazeball you are and didn’t want you stalking her. If she was calling the helpline, she’s probably got enough on her plate. Best of luck, Stalker Boy.”
Audrey went to shut the door in his face but again, he stopped it.
“I don’t really care what you think of me. You want to think I’m the bad guy in everything that happened with us? That’s fine. But I’m actually trying to find this girl to help her.”
“Help her into your bed, you mean.”
His jaw clenched. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, I bet it is but whatever.” Audrey rolled her eyes and turned back to you. “Y/N, have you ever heard of this girl he’s looking for?”
Your eyes snapped up to them and all three of them were now staring at you, waiting for your answer. Crap. CJ was looking right at you. Double crap. You shook your head and went back to your magazine. 
“There you go. No one here has heard of her. Buh-bye now.” 
Audrey was closing the door when Joey’s phone started to ring. Joey, who had gone back into the whirlwind of clothes, looked over at you. “Hey, can you get that? Eddie might be calling from his cell phone.”
You nodded and picked up the line. “Hello?”
“Hey, Y/N. Can I talk to Joey? Audrey’s friend, Bob, is getting a little impatient down here.”
“Sure. One sec.” You handed the phone to Joey. “It’s Eddie.” She took it and began rolling her eyes when Eddie was most likely telling her the same thing he had just told you. She came over, zipped up the suitcase you had been working on after dumping more things into it. “Do you mind taking this to Eddie downstairs? He’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Sure thing.” You tossed the magazine back onto the night stand and grabbed the suitcase handle, picking it up and placing it on its wheels. You slipped your worn paperback copy of your book into the back pocket of your jeans, intent on returning it to your room when you came back up. Now that you knew CJ was trying to track you down and he was in the building, you didn’t feel comfortable having any clues pointing to your identity out in the open like that. 
You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and began to pull it along. “Oh my God, Aud. Do you really need this many outfits?” 
She looked up from her cell phone and gave you a smile. “Of course. Rehab is bound to be drab so I’m going to make it fab.” She shot you a wink and opened the door for you. 
You laughed and shook your head, crossing over the threshold. You made your way to the elevator and pushed the button. While you were waiting, you heard behind you, “Need some help with that?”
You nearly jumped out of your skin. CJ was right there, behind you, talking directly to you. While a part of you wanted to tell him to take a hike, your desire for anonymity was greater. You turned and gave him a wan smile, shaking your head. His green eyes were intent on you and you didn’t care for that one bit. It was like he knew who you were without you even having to say it. Luckily, at that moment, the elevator dinged and the door opened. You went to roll the suitcase onto it when a hand picked it up out of nowhere.
“Let me give you a hand,” CJ offered, not waiting for you to reply and stepping into the elevator. You paused for a moment, considering not getting onto it with him but Eddie was expecting you and Joey and Audrey were waiting for you to come back. You let out a quiet sigh and stepped inside, hitting the button for the Lobby and waiting for the doors to close.
Once they did and you started descending, CJ glanced over at you. “So, Jo, were you planning on ever calling me again?”
Your heart started to pound but you forced yourself to remain cool as a cucumber, hoping he wouldn’t recognize your voice. You arched a questioning brow up at him. “I don’t know who you think I am but my name’s Y/N. Sorry to disappoint.” You turned back to the door.
“The Green Mile book in your back pocket says otherwise.”
Crap. You tried to think quickly. “That’s just a book I’m reading for class.” You decided to channel Audrey, the queen of mean when she wanted to be; perhaps that would get him to leave you alone. The doors were opening and you turned to give him a smirk. “NIce try, though, Sherlock. Better get back to Watson before he misses you.” You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and nearly stormed out of the elevator. 
CJ was suddenly at your side. “I know it’s you. Why are you trying so hard to act like it’s not?”
You shook your head, choosing to ignore him. Thankfully, Eddie came into sight, rushing to get the suitcase. 
“Thank you, thank you.” He picked it up and gave you a look. “About how many more of these are coming down, do you think?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. She has a lot of outfits. Joey’s got her work cut out for her.”
Eddie groaned and then noticed CJ standing next to you. “Good to see you again, man.”
“Likewise.”
Eddie glanced between you and CJ before walking away. Great. He was bound to mention that to Joey who would most likely question you about it later thanks to CJ’s impromptu appearance earlier. You spun on your heel and headed back to the elevator, punching the button.  
CJ was suddenly next to you. “What happened? Why did you stop calling?” He quietly asked you. 
You didn’t answer him, just kept staring straight ahead, your jaw clenched.
He leaned in slightly, his voice even quieter. “Did I make you nervous by offering to meet you? I was only trying to help. Nothing funny, I promise.”
When the doors opened, you stepped inside and of course, he followed you. The doors closed and your ride up began. 
“Are you going to talk to me or just keep ignoring me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know your voice. It’s you.” After another quiet moment, he begged, “Would you please just talk to me? What happened?”
You shook your head.
“Something obviously happened to make you stop calling. So, talk to me. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
You glared over at him. “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please stop bothering me.” CJ looked as if you’d slapped him for a moment and you felt guilty but then you immediately remembered what Jen had said that night at the bar. 
He gave you a curt nod and turned to face the door. Once it opened, you went to step out when he lifted the book out of your back pocket. 
“Hey! Give that back!” He held it out of your reach, opening it to find the note from your dad on the inside page that he’d written after he bought it for you. Why did you have to mention that in your phone conversations? That was a dead giveaway that yes, Jo was indeed you. How could you have been so stupid?
CJ gestured to the note. “Tell me again how it’s not you.”
You snatched the book out of his hands and hurried down the hall to your room. You would’ve gone back to Audrey’s and Joey’s room, but you were afraid he’d out you to them. Even if they didn’t believe him, you still remembered Audrey’s reaction when she thought it might be Joey for a moment and the latter’s response. 
“Y/N, wait,” CJ begged behind you. “Please, can we just talk for a minute?” You were unlocking your door when he was right next to you. “Just one minute. Please. That’s all I’m asking. Then, if you want, you’ll never see or hear from me again.”
You mulled it over for a moment. You could do one minute, you supposed, and get this over with. You glanced up at him and nodded, pretending not to see the relief that filled his expression. You opened the door and then held it open wider for him to follow.
You saw your roommate sitting on her bed, talking on the phone to her boyfriend. “Stace,” you interrupted. “Can you give us a minute?”
She frowned. “I’m kind of in the middle of—”
“I need the room.” Your tone brooked no argument. You surprised her; usually, you kept to yourself and never really stood up to her if she got mean or demanding. But you were not in the mood for any of her crap right then. You were at your limit.
Stacey scoffed but got to her feet. “One second, babe.” She glared at you, which you were more than happy to return, and then turned it onto CJ as well. “Boys aren’t allowed to stay up here so make it quick. You know the rules.”
You huffed out a snort. “The rule you break almost every other night? Got it, Stace, thanks for looking out.” You practically shut the door in her scowling face. You turned to find CJ’s eyes trained on you.
“So that’s the roommate, huh?” You shrugged. “Exactly how I pictured her, scowl and everything.”
You didn’t laugh at his joke and instead, crossed your arms. “You wanted to talk?”
He pressed his lips together and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “Why did you stop calling?”
You wanted to tell him the truth but it also seemed best to just get him out of there as soon as possible. He knew who you really were now and that was a problem. Especially if your friends found out you were the girl that had been calling him every week. Because sooner or later, they would want to know why and you weren’t ready to talk about that or have them look at you funny. You knew they’d be supportive, especially Joey and Audrey, but you also knew things would change. And you weren’t quite ready for that to happen. 
“I’ve been doing better so there was no need. You should know, you made me your pet project after all.” You didn’t mean to be harsh but you were still angry. 
His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“You know. I’m the girl who calls you every week to talk your ear off and keeps you on the phone for hours. The girl you’ve supposedly been trying to pick up through the helpline, though apparently I’m not the only one.”
His eyes widened. “Y/N, that’s not true at all. I don’t use the helpline to pick up girls or try to get dates. I don’t date, you know I don’t. I don’t know who told you that but it’s not true.”
“But the other part is?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Because that’s how your buddy Seth put it, the way Jen tells it.”
CJ huffed out a mirthless laugh, rubbing at his forehead and giving a nod. “Jen. That’s who you heard this from.”
“Don’t even,” you snapped. “David also mentioned how you told him all about me and my issues.” You used quotation marks on the last word.
His hand dropped. “Okay, first off, you don’t have issues, no more than anybody else around here, myself included. Second, I only told David because I was going to be out that one night. I wanted to make sure if you called in that you were taken care of. That’s it. David is one of our better counselors, he’s a friend, and I trust him completely.”
Your jaw tightened. “That still doesn’t explain why Seth would even say anything like that. And you laughed! You stood there and laughed as this guy, who I don’t know by the way, is turning me calling you for help into a joke! Is that what I am? The joke at the office? Does everyone there know how I’ve been calling you every week and boring you to death with my problems?”
“What? No! You’re not a joke. And you’re not—”
“Really? Because it sure sounded like it to me based on what Jen said.”
“Okay, let’s get something straight. You’re not boring me to death when you call, you’re not talking my ear off, or keeping me stuck on the phone with you, or anything else that someone else might have said. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to be there for you and try to help. Then when we started talking about more than that, I wanted to talk to you even more. If I didn’t want to talk to you at all, if you were such a nuisance, then why would I ask you to call back every week or give you my phone number even?”
“But you weren’t trying to pick me up.”
“No, I wasn’t. I wanted to be available to you if you needed to talk to me outside of the hours I had at The Stand.”
“Yeah, because I was your pet project.”
“No, you weren’t and why do you keep saying that?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not.” 
“Isn’t that what you do, though? Isn’t that why you tracked me down? Isn’t that why you kept trying to get my number and even suggested we meet though the helpline’s supposed to be anonymous? You look for girls who are messed up and try to be their white knight. It gives you some sort of satisfaction, some twisted sense of purpose… That’s what happened with Audrey, right?” Again, he looked like you slapped him but this time, you didn’t feel guilty. You were only speaking the truth. He had told you how much he wanted to help Audrey and how somehow they ended up in bed together and before he knew it, he really liked her and wanted to see more of her. In the end, he’d admitted to you that it might have been him confusing his desire to help her with his interest in her. That maybe Audrey had been right in what she’d said.
You watched as his shoulders deflated slightly and he let out a heavy breath, hanging his head. You bit your lip and glanced away from him, not wanting to see him look so defeated. You had to be strong, you had to stand up for yourself and not let him or anyone else take advantage of you. That was the silent vow you’d made to yourself after you’d cried yourself to sleep that night you found out how you were being used and made a mockery of.
“I tracked you down because I was worried,” he spoke softly. You turned back to find him staring at you, remorse radiating from him. You felt slightly bad for hurting him but you had said nothing but the truth, from his own lips. “It wasn’t like you not to call so I thought maybe something happened or maybe I made you nervous with that last call. Like I said, I gave you my number because I wanted to be there for you anytime you needed me, even if I wasn’t working. So this way you always had a way to get a hold of me if you needed to. I only asked for yours because I did like talking to you and I thought we were becoming friends. I know that’s not the norm for the helpline and it’s never happened before, to me or to anyone else that I know of, but like I said, I enjoyed talking to you. I only offered to meet you at Student Activities that day because you seemed nervous to try it alone and I didn’t want you to feel like that. I would’ve made that offer to anyone that needed it.” He nervously licked his lips. “I do like you but it has nothing to do with my wanting to help you or make sure you’re okay. I made a mistake with Audrey but I learned from it. I told you that.” He sighed before continuing. “I like you, Y/N, because you’re funny and smart and kind. Even if we didn’t meet through the helpline, I still would have liked you once I got to talk to you, once I got to know you better. That’s the truth.”
He turned to leave when he stopped suddenly. “By the way, Seth is the guy who usually relieves me on Friday nights. That’s how he knew about you calling every week. He always liked to razz me about being on the phone with you since I made him fifteen minutes late for his shift that one time. I only laughed because it was obvious he was showing off for Jen, that he likes her, and I was trying not to embarrass him in front of her. I did end up talking to him later about it, though, and asked him not to mention it again in front of her or anyone else. He agreed; he’s not a bad guy.” He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened. If you call the helpline again and want to talk to someone else, I understand. If you don’t want to call at all, I understand that, too. Just…take care of yourself, alright?”
You averted your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears building in them, and you gave him a curt nod. You only looked up again when the door snicked closed. You pretended a tear didn’t suddenly roll down your cheek and you told yourself that you had done the right thing. Though it certainly didn’t feel like it in the moment, deep within your chest. 
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You stared at your phone, pacing back and forth as you chewed on your thumbnail. It had been almost a month since CJ walked out of your dorm room, leaving you more conflicted than you felt prior to his arrival. You had turned his explanation over and over in your mind so much that you had begun to dream about him every night. You had more panic attacks during that time, to the point where you’d finally taken the plunge and made an appointment to see a therapist. You’d told your parents everything you’d been experiencing, making sure they heard you this time, and told them you needed help. Your mother was still annoyed with you but your father was supportive, especially when you told him that you had a group of friends you met up with pretty regularly. He agreed to help with payments for your therapy. 
You were doing better, just like you had been while talking to CJ, and the therapist had even more techniques in her toolbox that she taught you how to use. You’d even opened up to her about CJ and everything that happened with him. She was the initial reason why you were considering making a call that you hadn’t made in quite a while. 
When you saw the clock hit 7:21, you made your decision. You huffed out a breath, picked up the phone, and dialed the all-too familiar number.
“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”
You resumed your pacing, nervous, unsure of how to say what you wanted to.
“Hello?”
You’ve got this.
“Hello?”
Just do it already. Talk to him.
“Listen, if you’re—”
“What are your plans for tomorrow afternoon?” You rushed out before you lost your nerve.
 “Jo?” You appreciated him using your fake name. “Is that you?”
“Well?” You asked.
“Uh, tomorrow? I’m free...”
“Would you…want to get some coffee? Maybe?”
“Coffee, huh?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Jo, you’re not calling the helpline to ask me out on a coffee date, are you? Because that would be a serious misuse of this valuable resource the college provides,” he teased.       
“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll just wait until Seth is on shift then and call him up to ask him instead. Thanks, though. Bye.”
“Don’t you dare,” he laughed. You lifted the phone back up to your ear. “What time and what coffee shop?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Got a pen?”
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You walked into the coffee shop ten minutes early, intent on getting a table and settling in before CJ arrived. To your surprise, he was already there, waving you over. You approached, feeling your heartbeat speed up with every step. “You’re early.”
“I wanted to make sure we got a good table.” You had a feeling that wasn’t the only reason. The worry shadowing his expression confirmed it. Did he really think you had called him up to ask him to meet you only for you not to show? Then again, you supposed you couldn’t blame him.
“Good thinking.” You gestured towards the line with your thumb. “I’m going to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”
He was immediately on his feet. “I’ll get it. You sit down. You still like lattes?”
You gave him a small smile and nodded; he remembered. 
He returned your smile. “Okay. Here, take a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.” You watched him walk over to the line as you did just that. 
You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were taking your therapist’s advice. You were moving your friendship with CJ away from the helpline and out into the real world. You were giving him another chance while also allowing both of you to start over. If CJ agreed to, that is.
A few minutes later, he returned and placed your cup in front of you. You gave him a smile of thanks and waited for him to join you.
“So,” he started once he was settled. “You called in.”
“Only to ask you to meet me,” you pointed out.
The corner of his lips tipped up in a genuine smile. “I’m glad you did.”
“Me, too.” And you meant it. You were happy he’d said yes. “I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to thank you.”
His brows drew together. “Thank me?”
You nodded and began to tell him about all of the recent developments in your life, including therapy. You also apologized for how harsh you’d been the last time you saw each other but he waved it off, saying you didn’t need to and he understood. He listened intently and his smile grew when you mentioned how the therapy was helping and your panic attacks were starting to lessen. 
“I’m really happy to hear it, Y/N, and I’m glad you’re doing better.”
You bit at your lip, feeling nervous about speaking this next part. “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t helped me the way you did, especially that first night. So, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured.
Your heart began to pound against your rib cage but you bravely surged forward and kissed his cheek. When you sat back in your chair, his eyes were wide and you felt your face get hot. “Sorry. I just really wanted to do that for a long time. I hope that was okay.”
He grinned. “More than okay.” You felt relief sweep through you. “I was just thinking—”
“I know. You’re not dating, and we’re friends. Don’t worry, I understand.”
He studied you for a moment before speaking again. “I was going to say ‘I was just thinking what a coincidence because there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time, too.’” His hand gently covered yours and he slowly leaned in, giving you time to pull away or tell him to stop. You weren’t going to do either. 
His lips brushed gently against yours and you felt a thrill rush through you at the contact. You had imagined kissing him so many times but the fantasy did absolutely no justice to the real thing. When you broke apart but he didn’t lean back right away, he murmured, “Was that okay?”
“More than okay,” you whispered before pulling him back into you, both of you grinning like idiots before your lips connected again.
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You stopped, seeing the front of the building you were about to go into. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You asked nervously.
CJ turned back to you and gave you a reassuring smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you. “Yes. We should.”
“But—”
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “Trust me. I’m right here with you, okay?” He pecked your lips one more time, tightened his hold on your hand, and began pulling you forward. 
“Okay.” You didn’t sound so sure about this and truthfully, you weren’t.
CJ chuckled and led you inside. The Stand office was decorated with balloons and streamers and there was even confetti on the floor. One of the counselors was leaving since she was soon to graduate and a party was being thrown for her last day. You tried not to get overwhelmed at the amount of people filling the small space. It was overly warm in here and you could barely hear yourself think over the din of multiple conversations going on at once. Somewhere music was playing at a decent level. You noted a room in the back where through the window you could see two people sitting, talking on the phone, a closed door in between them and the noise. 
CJ intertwined your fingers and moved you both towards a group of a few people that he was intent on talking to, people greeting him as he passed. You remembered the techniques you had been taught and tried to put them into action while reminding yourself that you were with CJ and he wasn’t going to abandon you. 
He stopped and greeted the group before he turned to you smiling. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”
One of the guys laughed. “Ah, so this is Y/N.” Your heart started hammering inside your chest. “CJ hasn’t shut up about you since you two started dating.” You nearly sighed in relief.
CJ shrugged, grinning down at you. “Seth’s not wrong.”
Your eyes widened before you turned back to the guy. “Oh, so you’re Seth.”
Seth beamed. “Aww, CJ, you told her about me? I just knew we had something special,” he joked.
You frowned. “Hey now. Go get your own CJ. This one’s mine.” You winked up at CJ who laughed. 
He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him. “Definitely yours,” he whispered huskily. 
Seth pretended to gag. “Ugh. Young love. Gross. You can have him, Y/N.”
“Damn right I do,” you laughed as CJ wrapped himself around you from behind and leaned down to kiss your cheek.
From that moment on, it wasn’t so bad. CJ circulated around the room to different groups, introducing you each time. With him by your side, you began to feel more comfortable and you opened up bit by bit. At one point, CJ took your hand and led you away. “I want to show you something.”
“Again?” You teased. “Didn’t you already show me something back in my dorm earlier? Twice?”
“Ha ha. No, this is something different. Though there will definitely be a third time when I get you out of here and back to my place.”
“Ooo. You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Mr. Braxton.”
He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and pulled you into a kiss that left you breathless. “Just a small preview for later.”
“A small preview?” You panted. You just loved teasing him and couldn’t resist.  
He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Come on.”
CJ led you over to a desk and with his free hand, he swiped confetti off of the seat. “This is it. My station,” he told you.
Your eyes roamed over the computer, the keyboard, the notepad and pens, stopping on the corded phone. So this was it. This was where CJ had sat on those Friday nights during your conversations. You smiled to yourself at the memory.
You let out a squeal when CJ quickly sat down in the chair and pulled you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from falling, glaring at his laugh. You softened though when you looked back over the desk. “So this is where you sat on those nights we talked?”
“Uh huh. Though I much prefer you here on this end with me.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and turned you to him, kissing you sweetly. You snuck your fingers into his hair and tilted your head to deepen it, not caring right then about anyone or anything else around you. 
You and CJ had been dating for a while now and it was starting to become serious. He had met your parents when they came to visit. Your dad had liked him right away. Your mom, on the other hand, had given him a bit of a hard time but underneath the harsh exterior she was presenting, you could tell she liked him, too. He had initially planned to transfer to a school in New York, which you more than supported (though you were secretly heartbroken). You reminded him that you had done the phone thing once upon a time and you could do it again, if he wanted. After contemplating it, he decided to stay in Boston. 
“Please don’t tell me you chose to stay because of me. I’m not going anywhere. If it’s a great opportunity for you, you should go. I don’t want you to regret not going.”
He’d simply smiled. “I have a great opportunity right here and I would regret leaving.” He’d kissed your nose. “Besides, Boston’s home.”
“CJ, you should go. I’m almost done and I can come visit you. It’s only a few hours’ drive. You could show me things like the Empire State Building or take me to a museum or a play or show me Times Square.” You’d tried to make it sound enticing but inside it was killing you. Everyone knew long distance relationships had their problems and who knew? Maybe he might meet someone new in the Big Apple. But you also wanted him to do what was right for him, just like you’d spoken with your therapist about. You didn’t want him to resent you later on if he didn’t take this opportunity now and you certainly didn’t want him to have any regrets. “We could even visit Jen and Jack, see how her Grams is doing.”
Jen and Jack had transferred to New York. You had been worried to tell her that you and CJ were dating but while she was a little miffed in the beginning, she was more focused on the developing situation with her grandmother who had been diagnosed with cancer. Eventually, she forgave you before she left and gave you her blessing. You had been relieved; Jen was a good person, a good friend, and you didn’t want to lose her friendship. Jack had been worried about Jen’s reaction but for the most part, he had been fine with it. David was happy for you both. Audrey was doing better these days and though she had wanted to know what the hell you were thinking by shacking up with The Sleaze (as she referred to him), she had eventually told you she loved you and just wanted you to be happy. Joey asked you if you were sure when you told her and when you assured her that you were, she pretty much said the same thing as her former roommate and gave you a hug. She gave you a look when you pulled away and you knew that she had connected the dots on who you really were to CJ, but to her credit, she mercifully never said anything. Pacey and Emma had shrugged (CJ had apologized to Pacey at some point after what happened with Audrey and they had resolved things), wishing you well. Dawson…well, you never really got to know Dawson all that well during his brief visits so no conversation needed to be had there really. All in all, your friends were supportive, even if still a little wary of how things were going to work out. You were happy, though. It was strange but shifting from friends into romance proved to be an easier transition then you thought it would be.
CJ laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going without you.” You went to speak, to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, when he cut you off. “I know what I want. I’m okay with my decision. I need you to be, too.”
You tenderly stroked his arm. “Are you sure?” You whispered, worried he was making a mistake.
“More than sure.” He then pulled you to him for a kiss.
“Okay,” you whispered to his lips before kissing him again.
And now you had met all of his co-workers at The Stand and had seen where he worked a few days out of the week. He had offered to bring you several times before, but you had been hesitant to take him up on it, still worried someone might figure out who you really were. It’s not that you were embarrassed that you had called the helpline for help, but your business was your business and you didn’t want to be seen as that girl CJ got himself through the service. You both obviously knew that wasn’t the case but people talked, people judged, and you just wanted to steer clear of both as long as you possibly could. You knew you shouldn’t care what anyone thought or said, just like CJ didn’t; it was something you were currently working on in therapy. 
“So,” you teased when he finally broke away for air. “Is there a switchboard somewhere that you have somebody directing all the girls to you when they call? Is that how I got you every single time I called?” 
He grinned. “Not exactly. I told everybody that any calls that came in on Fridays at 7:00 were mine.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Well, how did you know I would call every single time?” You huffed out. “How do you know I might not have gotten held up? Or made plans at the last second? Or got fed up with you?”
He gave you a cocky smirk. “Because you liked talking to me. I could tell.”
You playfully swatted at his shoulder, making him laugh, and rolled your eyes. “It always amazes me that you’re able to make it through doorways with that massive ego of yours. That can’t be how you knew I would call you every time.”
His smirk grew and he nodded. 
“I hate you,” you mumbled. You didn’t really mean it and he knew you didn’t.
CJ pulled you closer up against him. “You have a weird way of showing that.” He inclined his head towards your embrace around his neck. 
“True,” you murmured and kissed him again.
“Plus,” CJ added when you pulled back. “You always said you would call back and I believed you.”
“Better,” you decided. “Though I will begrudgingly admit that I did like talking to you.”
“Like I said, I could—”
“Hush.” You covered his lips with yours and he chuckled into your mouth. When you pulled back this time, you laid your forehead against his, your eyes closed, smiling. “I love you,” you murmured.
“I love you, too” he whispered back to you, lifting up to press a kiss to your brow before you buried your head into his neck and he discreetly snuck his hands under your shirt to rub your back, just the way you liked. 
“Want to get out of here?” He asked you after a few minutes had passed.
“Mmm.” You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “No Fleetwood Mac this time, though.”
He laughed and helped you to your feet. “What have you got against one of the greatest bands of all time?”
“Nothing. It’s just weird to listen to that chorus when we’re about to…you know.” You could feel your cheeks starting to warm.
He grinned salaciously at you. “Oh, I know. Hey, at least it’s not the Star Wars theme.” He snickered at your glare and picked up your hand, kissing it. “No Fleetwood Mac tonight. Got it.” He intertwined your fingers and his grin softened into an affectionate smile before he led you out of there. You quickly made your goodbyes and hurried back to his place where he kept his promise of no rock group music track playing along to your own soundtrack. 
Later, as CJ slept, you repeatedly ran your fingers through his messy hair in soothing strokes as you studied him. Who knew calling the helpline that one Friday night would lead you here? Where you were happy, in love, and doing much better than you ever thought possible? You had gone from feeling overwhelmed by your education to feeling a different type of overwhelmed together. Overwhelming love and affection for the special person in your life; overwhelming gratitude for the progress you’d been able to make in managing your anxiety and panic attacks as best you could; and overwhelming contentment with every single moment, no matter the ups and downs that was best known as life. Regardless of whatever happened from here, you knew you’d be okay and you’d handle whatever was thrown your way. Like CJ had once said, one day at a time.
In his sleep, your boyfriend reached out for you and pulled you in closer to him, snuggling into your side and burrowing into your neck, making you smile.
And to think, you almost hadn’t made that call. You laid your head against CJ’s and closed your eyes. You were so glad you did.
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lcfbigbang2024 · 3 months
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LCFbigbang 2024 Theme Voting is Open!
The form will be open from now until JULY 20 at 21:00 IST. Please be sure to read and follow the instructions in the form!
● Vote here! ●
If this is your first time hearing about the event, please check out the FAQ and schedule pages for more information!
Thank you @thebigbangblogproject
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artyandink · 2 months
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬:
𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝
𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 (𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬, 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭) 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨
𝐈’𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞.
𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐀 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨.
𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠.
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𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥
𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫
𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐬𝐤𝐲
𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧
𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐬𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐤
𝐜𝐣 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐱𝐭𝐨𝐧
𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥
𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐜 𝐦𝐜𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬
𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲
𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞
𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞
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©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨
𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝
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greenmoons · 2 months
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Descendants writing prompts
I decided to do a post of ideas and prompts I have or recieved on Descendants, so people might decide to write them. Feel free to use them. It would be nice to get credit or message if you do use them but it's not necessary. If you have other ideas write me in the comments or in a message and I might add them to this list.
The life in Auradon after the barriar fell
Jay and Jade relationship
Freddie in New Orleans after her fight with CJ (in CJ's book)
Hades asking from Celia to look out for Hadie
Uliana doing different revenge to Bridget
The prom with the prank (just the whole prom fic, Malificent and Hades, Ella and Charming fall in love, Uliana's prank on Bridget)
Rapunzel daughters
Li'l Shang help Lonnie learn fencing so she could join R.O.A.R
Ally's thinkings on why Alice did not get her justice because Wonderland did not joined Auradon.
Carlos:
The VKs deals with Carlos' death
How Carlos had died
Jane dealing with Carlos' death
Carlos decided to introduced Dude to his mother
Diego:
Diego's reaction to Carlos death
Diego and Carlos relationship
Diego de Vill's band
Chloe:
Chad and Chloe training in sword fighting
Chloe and Cinderella are bad (like Audrey in the third movie)
Mal:
Mal keeping tabs on Hadie because he is her brother
Mal wants to get Hadie out of the isle before they lock it forever
Hook Family:
Hook teaches his kids how to use in swords.
The Hook siblings relationship
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nkville · 1 year
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we're not just friends and you fucking know it
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— genre: fluff, angst,
— pairing: bsf!yeonjun x female!reader
— tw: swear words, kissing, slight arguing
— wc: 1.8k
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the fresh air hit your face as you stepped out of the house, feeling the warm smell of freshly baked bread as you went closer to your favorite bakery nearby.
“good morning, mrs. lee! hmm, it smells so good in here.. oh gosh i just love the smell of freshly baked items” you said as you greeted the shop owner, who youve also known since you were a little kid.
“good morning to you too, dear. its nice seeing you here again, what would you like today?”
“uhm let me see, can i please get 2 croissants, 4 small cinnamon rolls, 2 bagels, 2 chocolate and 2 glazed doughnuts please?” you said as she looked at you in shock “oh my, do you perhaps have some guests over today?” she said as she flashed you a surprised look.
“no no mrs. lee, im actually about to go to yeonjuns place, its our 10th year friendship anniversary today and hes been really off lately so i thought why not spend the day with him, starting off with a surprise breakfast with his favourite goodies, isnt that a great idea mrs. lee?”
“oh sure it is a nice surprise, and you know what, since it's your 10th year friendship anniversary, you can have them for free no need to pay for it, enjoy your breakfast dear.” she said flashing you a soft smile giving you all the items you ordered.
“aww thats really sweet of you mrs. lee, but you made them with such effort and id feel really bad for not paying.” you refused, searching for your wallet that was deep inside your bag but mrs. lee stopped you from doing so.
“its a gift for you, my dear. id be really happy if you'd accept it” she said as you quickly thought about it and eventually accepted it.
“thank you so much mrs. lee, i really appreciate it so much, thanks a lot. i wish you a great day ahead!” you said leaving the shop.
“wishing you the same, sweetheart. goodbye!” she waved at you as you left, the excitement of seeing him filling you up as you walked the way to his house.
as you went upstairs to his apartment door, you saw how the door was open.
it was weird, but you just ignored it and slowly went inside looking around, eyes searching for your best friend who was no where to be seen around the house.
“oh wait, he must definitely be in his room sleeping, let me go and take a look” you said to yourself as you placed the bags on the kitchen counter, slowly walking up to his room.
as you slowly peeked through the door, you stood frozen in the doorway, your heart dropping like a stone as you watched your best friend, yeonjun, who you've been secretly in love with for years, passionately making out with another girl on his bed.
the sight felt like a punch to the gut, shattering your heart and the fragile hope you had been holding onto. a lump formed in your throat, trying so hard to fight back tears but you failed.
you quickly turned away, mind swirling with a mix of emotions. the room seemed to blur around you as you stumbled backward, desperately trying to grasp the reality of the situation.
how could he not see the love i had for him, the way my heart beat faster whenever he smiled, or how his laughter could light up even my darkest days? how could he not see all of that? in that moment all these thoughts kept on running around your head nonstop.
you felt weak on your knees, stumbling backward again slightly opening the bedroom door as it swung open a little wider, surprising both yeonjun and the girl he was making out with.
they pulled away from each other, their eyes widening in shock as they realized you were there, witnessing everything.
“wait- y/n its not what it looks like” yeonjun stammered, his voice desperate as he reached out towards you. you shook your head, unable to find your voice.
“no im- im sorry for interrupting you guys, just go on with what you two were doing” you said with a heavy heart, tears filling your eyes as you turned away.
“y/n its really not what you think! its just a misunderstanding y/n believe me” yeonjun called after you but you didnt listen to any of his words, running out of his apartment as fast as you could.
breathless, as you hurried to your apartment, collapsing by the door, tears streaming down your face as the moment kept replaying in your mind again and again, making you cry even harder.
“why did this happen to me.. just why..” you kept wondering to yourself how your best friend, someone who you were deeply in love with, someone who you trusted the most, could be the reason your heart is shattered into a million pieces right now.
you were lost so deep in your thoughts that at first you didnt even hear your phone ringing nearby, not knowing who was calling you.
after a few more rings you finally looked at your phone, seeing the caller id, it was none other than yeonjun himself.
feeling numb, having no energy left to answer, you just ignored the call.
as the day went on, laying down on your bed, you replayed the moments in your mind. suddenly you heard the door bell ring, going up to the door you heard a familiar voice. it was yeonjun's.
there he was, begging you to listen to him and let him explain just once. “y/n just please hear me out once.. i never meant to hurt you and i really need you to understand what happened.” he urged, his voice filled with sorrow.
“i know youre upset with me and that's why im here to make things right, please give me a chance to explain. i can't stand the thought of losing you, y/n please let me explain im begging you” he cried out.
at first you hesitated as you stood frozen for a moment before finally letting him in. as he entered, you looked at him with puffy eyes, quite unsure of what he'll say next. your heart still aching from the hurt he had caused.
despite the pain, a small glimmer of hope flickered within you. as you brought him to the living room, you gestured him to speak, silently urging him to explain himself as you sat there, waiting for him to speak.
“so, what was it that you wanted to say?” you said breaking the awkward silence between the two of you.
“listen, i know ive hurt you a lot today and im really, really sorry but believe me it was all a big misunderstanding, okay?” he said with a shaky voice.
“misunderstanding? really? you call this a misunderstanding?” you said in disbelief as you shook your head, looking into his eyes, frustrated. “i saw what i saw yeonjun and you cant deny it”
“i know it looked bad but i swear it wasnt what it seemed” he pleaded, his voice desperate. “you just have to trust me, hmm?” he added.
“trust you?” you scoffed, giving him a sarcastic laugh. “how can i trust you when i saw you with my own fucking eyes yeonjun? didnt you know i had feelings for you since the beginning, didnt you ever see me the way i see you? did you ever realize how much i love you? all the moments we've spent together, all the things we've done together, you really think there was nothing between us all this time? do they really mean nothing to you?”
“explain to me, please, because i just cant comprehend how this could be a misunderstanding” you added making him look into your eyes with nothing but sincerity and pain reflecting in his eyes.
“look, y/n im really sorry.. i didnt realize you love me the same way i love you, all these years i kept reminding myself that we're just friends and nothing more than that. but seeing how you reacted to me being with another girl just proved to me that you feel the same.”
“wait- prove? what do you exactly mean by that?” you said in pure confusion, not able to understand anything.
“let me just get straight to the point, look, for many years ive been trying to hide this from you but im glad i no longer have to. ive had feelings for you for the past few years y/n but there was just something inside me telling me you dont feel the same.” he said as you looked at him in shock trying to process everything he's saying.
“whenever i saw you with other guys at school or any gathering it makes my blood boil, thinking youre having a better time with them. i just couldnt get myself to tell you how much i loved you because of the fear i had in my heart, thats why one day i finally decided to try and forget about you”
“thats why you had been very weird to me these days, avoiding me all the time ignoring my texts and all that?” you said giving him a soft buy confused look.
“yeah and i was so stupid for doing that, my dumbass really thought i could forget about you while spending time with other girls and ignoring you but ive come to realize that whatever happens my feelings for you will never change.” he said in a comforting tone that made you literally jump inside.
“you shouldve told me, silly, all these years i thought you didnt love me back so i kept quiet.” you told him giving him a soft laugh, sadness fading away as he spoke.
“im happy to know the feeling is mutual though, so glad for finding out you feel the same. to be honest, y/n, i cant describe it with words but i fucking love you so much, really” he confessed, making your heart skip a beat as you smiled widely.
“yeah, thank god both of us found out about each other's feelings. holy fuck i feel so relieved. and yes, i love you too, a lot actually.” you said, as you gave each other a warm hug for a first time in a while, feeling safe in each other's arms.
“soo are we official?” yeonjun asked, making you roll your eyes. “of course we are. what do you think otherwise, stupid”
“ugh i can finally call you mine y/n, all mine. you have no idea how happy i am right now.”
“the feeling is mutual” you said giving him a wink. “also lets just stay like this for a while, yeah? dont wanna let you go”
“as you wish, my love. i love you.”
“i love you too, junie.” you told him, hugging him even tighter while digging your face into his chest, feeling the warmth.
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factorialsfandoms · 1 year
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@avicryptidbard gave me a prompt of Mind caring for Heart’s wings to write during Eurovision. So... Here it is! They got a little bitchy but they be like that.
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium Vol. 1 - Chonny Jash (Album), The Mind Electric - Chonny Jash (Song) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Heart & Mind (Chonny Jash) Characters: Mind (Chonny Jash), Heart (Chonny Jash) Additional Tags: Wingfic, Heart has wings, Wing Grooming, Caretaking, Bathing/Washing, platonic all of the above, referenced past injuries, referenced self-harm, Referenced scars, they're both bitches but they're trying to get along, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, they care but don't want to say it, love and hate and horrible codependence, but this is just fluff, Bitchy fluff, only slightly editted, more proof read with spellcheck Summary:
Mind is reading a book. It says ungroomed wings will make a bird sick, and Heart's could definitely use some attention.
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xx3bvvx · 3 months
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Another one... again.
---------------
The office of Team 1 was bustling with the usual activity, papers, and files strewn across desks, team members rushing to and fro with urgent tasks. Lee Soo Hyuk was at his desk, rubbing his temples as he stared at the ever-growing mountain of paperwork before him. The constant hum of activity and the impending deadlines were enough to give anyone a headache, but today, the situation was made worse by one particular team member.
Kim Rok Soo.
Lee Soo Hyuk glanced over at the young troublemaker, who was currently engrossed in a heated phone conversation with someone from the higher-ups. His voice was raised, his tone sharp and unyielding. It was clear that whatever Rok Soo had done this time, it was serious.
Choi Jung Soo, sitting nearby, watched the scene unfold with a smirk. He leaned back in his chair, tossing a stress ball up and down, clearly enjoying the chaos.
"Rok Soo really knows how to stir the pot, doesn't he?" Jung Soo said, loud enough for Lee Soo Hyuk to hear.
Lee Soo Hyuk sighed heavily. "What did he do this time?"
Jung Soo snickered. "Apparently, he bypassed some protocols and reallocated resources without the proper clearance. The chairman is not happy."
At that moment, Rok Soo slammed the phone down, his expression a mix of frustration and defiance. He stalked over to Lee Soo Hyuk's desk, a stack of papers in hand.
"Team leader, the higher-ups are being unreasonable. I made those changes for the mission's success. They can't see the bigger picture."
Lee Soo Hyuk pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the pounding headache that was threatening to overtake him. "Rok Soo, you can't just make unilateral decisions and expect everyone to be on board. Now we have to deal with the fallout."
Rok Soo crossed his arms, clearly not convinced. "They'll thank me when the mission succeeds."
Jung Soo burst out laughing. "Oh man, Rok Soo, you really have a way with people."
Rok Soo shot him a glare. "You think this is funny, Jung Soo?"
Jung Soo shrugged, still grinning. "A little. You always manage to cause the most trouble in the most spectacular ways."
Lee Soo Hyuk shook his head, feeling the headache intensify. "Alright, enough. Rok Soo, you're going to fix this mess. Write up a detailed report explaining your actions and how they benefit the mission. And make sure it's thorough."
Rok Soo scowled but nodded. "Fine. But I'm telling you, this will work."
As Rok Soo sat down to start his report, Jung Soo continued to snicker, clearly enjoying his friend's predicament. "Hey, Rok Soo, need any help with that paperwork?"
Rok Soo didn't dignify that with a response, focusing instead on his task.
Just then, the door to the office opened, and a stern-looking senior officer walked in, his gaze immediately zeroing in on Rok Soo. "Kim Rok Soo, a word."
Rok Soo stood up, casting a quick glance at Lee Soo Hyuk, who gave him a resigned nod. As he followed the officer out, Jung Soo couldn't help but chuckle.
"This is going to be interesting."
Lee Soo Hyuk let out a long, weary sigh. "Jung Soo, get back to work. And stop enjoying this so much."
Jung Soo saluted playfully. "Yes, sir!"
As the door closed behind Rok Soo, Lee Soo Hyuk slumped back in his chair, the weight of the day pressing down on him. The headache was relentless, and the thought of more paperwork was almost unbearable.
"Why do I feel like this is just the beginning of a very long week?" he muttered to himself.
Meanwhile, in the hallway, Rok Soo was having a heated discussion with the senior officer, trying to defend his actions. Inside the office, Jung Soo continued to smirk, clearly enjoying the chaos his best friend had caused.
"Hey, hyung," Jung Soo called out. "You know, for all the trouble Rok Soo causes, he does make things interesting."
Lee Soo Hyuk couldn't help but chuckle despite his headache. "That he does, Jung Soo. That he does."
As the day wore on, the team continued to work, the ever-present hum of activity a constant reminder of the challenges they faced. And through it all, the bond between them remained strong, even in the face of endless trouble and paperwork.
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