#anyway i was like i’ll drive half an hour this shit is not staying in my house for a couple days

[lilgynt]

maybe i’m just finding any issue with situationship guy before we have sex bc i’m feeling weird about sex but also maybe he wasn’t wrong when he said he was clingy and i do not care for it

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[popquizhot-shot]

Everything is fine -2

A/n: aaaaah thank you so much for waiting for part 2! sorry it's been so long im having fever and i had electoral campaigning to do so i've been so busy :DDD enjoy some revenge and a moment<3 not proofread so please excuse any mistakes

Part -1

The house is quiet when you enter. Spotless. As if it’s been frantically cleaned and the dust has been swept under the rug. You want to laugh. The bedroom door swings open but this time, he’s awake. He’s reading a book, his bottom half covered by the blanket. He looks up as you close the door and place your tote on the desk.

“Hey, baby.” he smiles and you let the corners of your mouth lift a little.

“I need some air.” you say and draw the curtains, unlatching the window and pushing it open. The night breeze is cool and the air in the room seems fresher. You stick your head out a little and breathe deeply, looking down.

You’re known to have the most absolute, shit eyesight, but even you can the the glow of red eyes a floor below you. You smile and draw back, Taking a towel from the cabinet and heading to the bathroom without a word, leaving your husband confused.

He can hear the shower turn on, and a few seconds later, the singular lamp in the roo switches off, leaving him in complete darkness. 

Miguel swears in frustration and huffs under his breath. His eyes come to focus as he gets used to the dark.

The only sounds are the rush of water in the shower, yet he feels the silence is eerie. The wind picks up, it’s almost howling, It sounds like a wail. His breathing quickens a little, and his eyes fall to the little expanse to the outside world.

He freezes. There’s something outside.

On the 18th floor. Staring at him. It’s eyes glow a deep red and he can see claws gripping the window sill. 

He wants to shout, to scream, to fucking move. But he can’t. 

The bathroom door swings open and he looks at you, then back at the window.

There’s nothing. No one.

“What’s wrong, honey?” your voice is soft and breezy, “It’s just the dark.” 

He looks almost manic, hunched over as he looked between you and the window, “There w-was something there. With red fucking eyes and it was staring at me.”

He looks at the window again and that’s when he shouts, “There!” he points and jumps off the bed, “Right there!”

You look to where he points and in the dark, you know he won’t see your smile. But Miguel will. 

You tilt you head, “Miggy, there’s nothing there. Are you okay?”

“Wha- how can you not see that?!”  he sputters and you walk over to him, turning his face away from the window, “Calm down, love. I think we should go to a doctor. In fact, I’ll make an appointment tomorrow, it’s the weekend anyway.”

 He takes your hands off his face and sighs, “I know what I saw.” he hugs you.

Your eyes flit to the window and you see one of the scarlet eyes shut in a wink. And then they disappear.

Your hand smooths his hair down, “We’ll be just fine.”

—---------------------

“I think it’s just stress, Miggy.” you say as you drive back from the clinic. He’d been subject to a number of tests by the doctors trying to find something wrong with one of the head scientists of the corporation that funded their work. Of course, they found nothing, but they did advise him to rest,  “After all, you spend so much time at work.” you shake your head in pity, “I’ll take off for a few days.”

“No!” he winces when you turn to look at him with an eyebrow raised, “I mean, no, you don’t have to. I’ll be alright. It’s just stress. You dob’t have to sacrifice your work.”

“Oh nonsense.” you wave him off, “It’s not a sacrifice to take care of the man I love. Unless, you want me to stay out of the house.” you chuckle, “You want me to stay out, honey?”

“No.” his voice breaks, “Of course not.”

A ting! Sounds from his phone and you peak at the notification thats from Dana.

“Is Dana coming over?”

He double takes, “How- nevermind. Yeah, she said she’d be visiting in an hour or so.”

You hum, with a small smile and swerve to the right, and he jerks and almost hits head on the window. You park, “Could you bring the groceries in?” you gesture to the shopping you’d gotten done when he was at the clinic. You smile and get out, leaving him behind.

He sighs and gets out, shutting the front seat door while opening the back one and taking out the paper bag. He notices a man standing opposite the car with his back turned to it.

He’s wearing the same clothes that Miguel’s wearing. And when he turns around he takes his shades off and he stares at him with red eyes. Miguel draws ina sharp breath.

If you ever see someone that looks identical to you, run away and hide.

His phone rings and he looks down at it and cuts the call. When he looks back him, the figure has disappeared. Shit. Shit.

Run away.

Hide.

He looks to his right, to where the entrance to the building is and he doesn’t even take a step before pain blooms across the back of his head. He doubles over with a groan but is pulled back by his hair and he can feel a sharp pain at his neck.

Then, darkness.

—-----------------------------------

“Miguel, I swear to god.” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “This wasn’t the plan!  How do I explain how he magically arrived here after fainting downstairs? You know the plan was that I dru-”

“Tell him a tall, nice man helped you.” he snarks and you resist the urge to throttle him. You settle for a glare that makes him chuckle.

“Relax, Sweetheart. He’ll believe you. Now I've healed the puncture with bacta spray and the wound is gone.” he gestures to the man currently spread out on your shared bed, “I need you to wake him up, tell him he passed out from exhaustion. I’ll take it from there.”

You look up at him, “Thank you. For wasting your time on this.”

His hand comes to rest on your shoulder and it tingles, “No time wasted, I assure you.” he nods reassuringly, “Now wake him up.” He rolls his shoulders and settles down on the plush couch you have that faces the bed.

You flick some water from the bottle you keep on the bedside table onto your husband’s face and when he wakes with a start, you fall into the role of the worried wife.

“Oh my god! Miggy! You’re finally awake!” you cup his face, “I was so worried! Are you okay?” His widened eyes look inyo yours and his furrowed eyebrows soften.

“I-I blacked out. There was this guy who looked like me and-” his gaze travels behind you to fall on the couch and he freezes at the sight of the menacing man staring at him with those fucking red eyes. 

Run away and hide.

“Baby.” he looks back at you, “Do not  look back.”

The room is silent. You can see Miguel in the reflection of your husbands eyes. Like the snap of a branch, the doorbell rings and youre forced to turn around, much to your husband’s protests. 

You lock eyes with Miguel and look back at your husband with incredulous eyes, “Miguel, are you crazy? There is nothing there!” 

“Can you not see that?” he stretches his hand out to make a point and Miguel scowls.

“I can see absolutely bullshit!” you raise your voice.

The bell interrupts whatever he was going to say and take a deep breath. 

“I��m assuming that’s Dana?” you raise and eyebrow and he nods, “I’ll get it.”

“No! Don’t leave me with that fucking thing!” he points to where Miguel sits and then at you. You groan.

“Then you go and open the door!” 

“FIne!” he storms out, wobbling just a little. You hear the door open and your stomach drops when you head Dana’s voice.

“Hey.” Miguel says and you look down, “You’re going to be okay.”

You nod, “I’m going to be fine.”

He gestures to the door and you steel yourself before stepping out, a smile making its way onto your face as you spread your arms and greet Dana who replies with her high pitched voice. Even your husband seems to be in a better mood and you can’t help but remember the hologram.

“I love you” he kissed her neck softly and she giggled.

“Hey!” Dana says your name, “You okay?” 

“Youre going to be okay.”

You snap out of you daze, “Yeah, sorry. Long day.” you smile again and she pouts almost condescendingly.

“Awwww, I’m sure you’ve had a tiring day. Writing is such a hard profession.” she says airily.

You grit your teeth, “Tea?”

“Yeah honey, I think we’d like that.” Miguel smiles.

As you walk to the kitchen, and get out the ingredients, Miguel recounts the events of the day to Miguel and she scrunches her nose and laughs. She, too, says it’s just stress. Only this time, he listens. You swallow hard and go back to boiling the tea.

The apartment is built in an industrial style, and very much an open plan. The design is such that Miguel can see you from the bedroom. He can see your hands flying to open and close cabinets and crushing cardamom and washing tea cups. Living a life so different from the one you live with him.

The teacups clink as you place the tray on the coffee table. They take the cups and sip the tea with relish, like they always do. Miguel sighs contently and Dana groans with satisfaction.

“Have fun.” you grin, “I gotta shower. I’ll see you in a bit.” you whip around to speed walk awkwardly to the bedroom. Cursing at yourself inwardly because really? That’s the best excuse you could find?

Paces away from the bedroom, your eyes meet Miguel’s. The variant of your husband. This variant who had patched you up, and got you food and held you and was currently waiting for you and wasting his time on your petty revenge.

You breathe from your mouth so they can’t hear the sniffles you’re trying to hide as you shut the door.

```````````````````````````````

The door shuts with a click as you step in and in five seconds, Miguel curses his stupid enhanced hearing and winces. You give him a sad smile and he moves to wrap his arms around you. Your hands go around his neck and you look up at him. After a few moments, his head dips, and he’s so close. So close that the both of you are breathing the same air. Noses nuzzling each other, cheeks rubbing against the other and lips leaving their light feather touch on the other. 

He can hear the small sniffle you try to hide and he does the only thing he can think of to make you think of anything else. His head hides in the crook of your neck and he breathes in your scent. He relishes the small sounds that leave you. He lets them envelop his senses, so he doesn’t have to hear whatever is going on in the next room. His hands travel the expanse of your back, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt.  It’s a messed up dance you’re both in. He knows that. But, god, you’re so soft and-

Oh.

He breathes out a moan. Your lips are on his neck, gently mouthing at flesh. Your eyelashes leave whispers of kisses in their wake that make him lurch forward and pick you up. Your legs wrap around his waist like it’s an instinct.

The windows bathe you in the setting sunlight. And you look ethereal.

But. You’re not her. You’re not his love. Her smile was different, her hair shorter. Her eyes are softer. His head wracks with guilt but then he looks at you again. You’re doing the same. 

He can hear the laughter from outside, but it’s like time stands till as the both of you look at each other. Searching for what is missing. Using the other for their own comfort.

Like a reverent follower, he gazes at you. Like you’re his saint. He wants to say the words. To tell you to use him. So that the both of you can have some semblance of comfort in each other. Your head dips down and your lips brush his and his eyes shut. Succumbing to the feeling.

Two thuds are heard and you pull back, “That was fast.”

“Wait, you used the drug?” his eyes widen and you smile.

“Well, what’s left now but to take them to HQ?” you chuckle.

The hall is silent. There is no laughter.

He smiles.

[miley1442111]

burnt- s.adamu

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

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

two different sydney requests:

i got so excited seeing syd in the new trailer for the bear s3 😭 need something with reader x sydney bc i can’t wait until june 27!! anything you can think of possibly based on some stuff hinted in the trailer would be great :) thank you so much!!

requesting sydney x reader! feel like it’s been so long since ive seen any content with her, especially because we were robbed of even a glimpse of her in that new teaser they released the other day 😭

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

a/n: i hope you both enjoy! thank you for requesting!

summary: your girlfriend doesn't take it too well when she finds out you kept your injury from her.

pairing: sydney adamu x fem! berzatto! reader

warnings: reader gets hurt, burned hand, i think that's it?

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

Baste, pour, flip, repeat. Baste, pour, flip, repeat. Baste, pour, flip, repeat. God, did Carmen need to yell so loud? 

You looked up for a split second, not even- just a fraction of a half-second, and you felt the burn of the boiling duck fat begin to sear your skin. It bubbled the skin on your left hand, leaving it exposed to the heat of the room and making it so much worse.  

“Fuck!” you shouted, pulling your hand away from the hot stove and turning it off. You held your hand close to your chest with a pain expression as all eyes handed on you. 

“W-what, what happened?” Carmen asked, running over. 

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth. “Why do you fucking shout so loud?” You asked your brother. He rolled his eyes and pulled you to the other side of the kitchen and looked down at your hand. 

“Oh fuck,” Richie mumbled, joining the huddle you and Carm had made. “You’re going to have to go to the emergency room for that one.”

“No fucking shit jagoff,” you seethed. “I’ll grab my shit and drive myself. Get back to service Carm.”

He stared at you for a second. “You sure?”

“I’m fine,” you nodded and he obliged, pressing a quick kiss to your temple like he used to when you were kids. 

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

The drive to the ER was agony. Every movement of your hand was like a thousand needles being pushed into the skin and the ice pack Carm had given you wasn’t helping.  

You debated calling Syd, but this was her one night off to spend with her dad. You didn’t want to bother her, and you sure as hell didn’t want her to wait with you in the packed ER for the next 3 hours. You decided to just stare at your phone screen and scroll instagram until you were called in. 

Ring, ring, ring. 

Sydney’s contact jumped up on the screen and your senses were immediately heightened. Had Carm told her? How did she know? Maybe she didn’t know… maybe she was just calling to say that she was going to stay with her dad for the night and that she wouldn’t be home, you didn’t know.

“You got burnt?!” she questioned, concern filling her voice. 

“Who told you that?” you asked. 

“Who do you think? Carm! Why wasn’t it you who told me?” 

“You’re supposed to be with your dad tonight, I didn’t want to be a bother,” you shrugged, hearing your name being called. “Anyways, I have to go I’m being called in, love you-”

“We need to talk about this-” 

Beep beep beep. 

You hung up. 

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

After a painful 30 minute talk with a doctor, she told you that you’d be fine in 4 weeks. She bandaged you up and gave you an antibiotic, in case it became infected. Waiting for you outside was Sydney, with a very mad look on her face. 

“You should’ve called me,” she sighed, taking your not-injured hand. 

“I didn’t want to ruin the one night you had off,” you shrugged, walking out to your car with her beside you. “Plus, it’s not like it’s the first or last time I’ve been burnt, right?”

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Maybe?” you chuckled. “Look, I’m fine! They bandaged me up and I have antibiotics in case it gets infected, plus I can hold this over Carmy’s head until either of us does something worse.”

“It might get infected?” she questioned and you rolled your eyes. 

“Only if I get lazy with changing the bandage,” you sassed back. 

“Oh, so you’ll get an infection then, great!” She sighed, getting into the driver’s seat. 

“Syd, stop being mean, I’ve been through enough tonight,” you deflated. “Let’s just go home.”

Sydney started the car, driving out of the hospital with your hand in hers.

“I’m sorry, I just worry sometimes…” she muttered. 

“It’s alright,” you nodded, then brought her hand up to your mouth, where you kissed it.

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

the bear masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[b4tasquad]

NEEDY: NIKO OMILANA

Authors note: based on this request. Forgot to reply to it and didn’t realise til I was done🙄 but anyways… a little heated guys.

Warnings: making out! Touching! Dry humping and two horny bitches. Minors dni

…

The entire day had passed by in a blur, the countless errands you had to run keeping you transfixed on getting everything done. For the past 5 hours, you had practically ignored everything else, which also meant your boyfriend.

Finally, once you’ve gotten comfortable in the comfort of your own flat, you let yourself relax into the soft pillows littered around your couch. Your phone which had been on do not disturb came back to life again, showing you the amount of messages you had received from Niko.

Niko:

Babe

Bae

Hello?

The one time I’m in a crisis you decide not to be on your phone??? Really.

The fact that you have on do not disturb knowing damn well I’m hitting that ‘notify anyway’ button is too funny🤣

5:31 pm

Niko:

Babyyyyy

Where are you????

I’m so fucking bored

Aj won’t stop waffling in my ear about shit I couldn’t care less about😐😐 like bro I don’t give a fuck where you like it

5:52 pm

Niko:

It’s really hot in here

And I’m not feeling to week yk

Please come… help me?

6:39 pm

With his last text being half an hour earlier, you opt to call him, feeling bad for not being available sooner. The phone hasn’t even started ringing properly when Niko picks up.

“Love, what’s wrong with you?” Is the first thing you say, just choosing to be straightforward about it instead of beating round the bush.

For some reason, he swerves your question. “You need to come over here, like right now.” His words are a whisper, which reminds you he should be in the middle of a shoot. At your lack of answer, he impatiently prods for an answer. “Y/n?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing a shoot?” You pick up the remote, getting ready to stay in after talking your boyfriend out of his so-called boredom. “Niko get back to that.”

“No, baby, you don’t get it.” He whines quietly, aware the boys around him would never let him live it down if they heard. Luckily, they were speaking with the camera crew, allowing Niko to be as annoying as he wanted.

“Then give me a good enough reason to get out of my comfy couch, because it’s not looking good for you.” You rest even deeper down in the edge of the cushion, confident he wouldn’t win. “3…2…”

At the sound of the countdown you can hear Niko huff a breath of air, something he did when annoyed. “Seriously?”

“1…..”

“Okay!” He also mutters something under his breath but relaxes. “I need you.”

You would laugh and ask him what his vague words meant if his tone didn’t speak for him. Having known Niko for as long as you did, there was no question about what he meant. You gazed at the clock over your living room walls, contemplating what to do.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

He quickly thanks you, letting you know he had to get back to filming before hanging up. You run a hand through your hair, laughing a little at yourself.

“Imagine being so horny oh my days.”

But there’s no conflict on what to do. Niko’s begging has done something to you, and the need for his touch is everything you can focus on as you get into your car and drive to your boyfriend’s location. It wasn’t often Niko would be willing to beg that much if the two of you weren’t hidden by the comfort of your bedroom walls, but it seemed as today was an exception .

Walking into the all too familiar place you had been to countless times before, you make your way to the room they always shot at. Niko’s eyes met yours the second you stand outside the open door, and he was quick to smile. He’s quiet as the camera’s moving but when they stop for a second, he comes up to you, hands snaking around your waist.

Having missed Niko, you hug him with as much eagerness, placing a chaste kiss on his neck. You can hear them calling for him, but Niko can’t help himself. Taking hold of your jaw, he connects your lips quickly. You’ve only registered what he’s doing when your boyfriend pulls back again.

“Wait 15 minutes, and I’ll make it worth it.”

“Eh, Niko!” Chunkz calls from his seat across the room. “ Keep it pg 13 for the kids around.”

Sharky puts his hands over Aj’s eyes, and Kenny cackles from his spot beside them. Pushing away the hands, Aj rolls his eyes.

“Let’s do that filming again, thank you.”

The 15 minutes were long and painful. You almost couldn’t watch your boyfriend from the sidelines, every move or word he spoke intensifying the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. He seemed to have noticed because just a few minutes into you being here, he kept looking at you. Sending you looks far from innocent.

You’re scrolling on your phone, bored when the boys are told they can take a quick break. Niko stands up with a subtle grin, as he talks to Sharky about something, but his eyes are on you, making you excited to get him alone.

Your back hits the wall with such force you're about to complain, but Niko silences you with his exploring mouth. He kisses your body with such intensity, you find yourself not even just breathless, but also speechless. There are no words you can use to even paint a faint picture of how you’re feeling.

“I’ve been waiting for this… all day,” Niko says in between kisses, his lips moving from your neck to your mouth.

Kissing him back with as much energy is hard as you already feel dizzy. His height gives him such an advantage that you can’t compete with. Seeing your struggle, Niko lifts you up your legs coming to cross behind his back. He continues kissing you, but now with the addition of rubbing himself against your body.

His actions leave you whining, something he can’t help but groan at. Niko had always loved hearing your response to his actions, it gave him confidence that he wasn’t the only one enjoying it.

“Wait.” You slightly lean away from the kiss, but Niko only continues to kiss down the side of your neck. “Niko.”

“Hmm?”

“Sit down.”

Quirking his eyebrows, he lets you down, taking a seat on the desk. You were unsure what kind of room the two of you had ended up in, but seeing the amount of clutter you could only guess it was some sort of storage place. You had noticed the desk somewhere in between stumbling into the room, and Niko kissing you senseless.

Climbing onto him, you put your hands around his exposed neck. Niko’s hands roam your body as much as he can, hands slipping into your pants to kneed the soft flesh of your ass. You moan slightly as he also gives it a quick slap, wishing more than ever that he would fill you up.

“Niko.” You start, dragging your body over his clothed thighs with the help of his hands on your ass to move you. He doesn’t let you speak, instead, he pulls you into a hard kiss but still continues to move you.

No clothes were off yet, but there was no need because your boyfriend knew exactly how to get you there. He slips one of his hands out of your pants, Instead using it to pull at your hair and make you look at him. “I told you I’d make it worth it, yeah?”

Then he dives into another lustful kiss, continuing to drive you crazy for the rest of the little time you had before someone got overly suspicious.

[lvrhughes]

I Wish You Would | N. Hischier

1989 tv masterlist

pairing: Nico Hischier x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: none?

summary: After you and Nico had an argument, you two are brought back together.

not my gif!

“Nico please-” 

“Please what, schatz?” 

“I just wish you’d-” 

“What? What do you want?” 

“I can’t do this right now.” The call ended quickly, pressing the end call button within seconds before immediately regretting it. 

“Shit.” 

The call back you sent went straight to voicemail, the next five after that too. All of your messages left unanswered, all calls sent to voicemail, all your follows removed from his socials. 

“Come on, one night, you’re always with Nico anyways you can leave it for one night to have a few drinks with us!” Your best friend encouraged, holding your arm as she begged for you to join. 

“Fine.” You agree, grabbing your wallet from the nearby counter before following her out. 

Your group of friends meeting up at a random bar in the city, dancing the night away in the bar, sipping drinks all night. 2am was when it really hit you, it had been three days without Nico and it was torture. 

The ringing of the call in your ear, your head in your hand as your other held the phone to your ear. 

“Nico?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as he answered. 

“Schlatz?” His voice was groggy, clearly having just woken. 

“I’m sorry, it’s two am you don’t deserve this. I'm so sorry I miss you and I want to go home.” Your words slowly progressing to a sob.

“Where are you?” You could hear the shuffling on the other side of the line as you muffled a sob. 

“Blitz.” Your voice barely audible but Nico knew, he knew your friends, he knew where they’d take you. 

“I’ll be there in five.” He spoke quickly, moving to gather his keys and clothes as he ended the call. 

Your body sat, shaking, on the sidewalk, waiting for Nico. His car pulling forward quickly, his body jumping from his seat to you instantly. 

“God, Schlatz, what are you doing? Let’s go.” He urged, his arms pulling your body against his.

The car was quiet, the windows down while you drove past your street. The memories flooding your mind, glancing at Nico from the corner of your eye. 

“Nico, I’m sorry, for that night-” 

“It’s in the past.” His voice interrupting yours, continuing to drive straight. 

His hand on his back lead you inside, giving you his spare room until the moring. Until you’d leave not knowing how to handle it. Nico’s thoughts running wild with the assumption of your hatred towards him. 

Two am, your room filled with the light of the street, lying on your bed willing sleep to overcome. The passing of headlights grabbing your attention, returning your thoughts back to Nico. Two weeks had passed and he still flooded your mind. 

Wishing he’d come back, wishing you’d never hung up that call, wishing Nico knew that. Wishing he was right there. 

It was the only way the nights would go, wishing on every star that he’d come back, he’d hear you out. Wishing that you’d both remember what you were fighting for.  

I wish we could go back and remember what we were fighting for. Wish you knew that I miss you too much to be mad anymore. And I wish you were right here, right now. 

The message was never meant to send, typing it out as tears flooded your waterline at the dreaded two am. Yet, it sent, you couldn’t even remember hitting send until the morning when you saw the words delivered underneath. 

“Oh no, no.” The panic urging your voice to rise, staring at your phone in defeat. The message quickly turning to read in front of your eyes, throwing your phone off to the side when it hit. 

Your phone buzzing from its place on the floor, across the room now, while you sat with your knees to your chest. 

And you stayed like that for as long as you could, waiting half an hour before moving, your head in turmoil as you moved. Leaving your phone in favor of making food, making far too much to condone your stress. The choice was made early to stay in all day, it was a sweet off day that you had no plans on, so the plan to binge all your favorite movies was perfect. 

Your phone stayed discarded on your bedroom floor, ignoring all messages of the day, ignore Nico’s reply. 

The banging on your door waking you, groaning as you moved from your spot on the couch, the space you had fallen asleep while watching your movie earlier. Glancing at the clock on the stove as you passed, two am flashed your vision. 

“No way,” Your voice was quiet, growing louder to yell at the door as you approached. “Whoever is here at two am you better have a death with!” 

The sound of his laugh echoed through the door, stopping you in your tracks. Your next steps slow, opening the door quickly to see him. His body leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. 

His movements quick, standing up and uncrossing his arms, his body pushing into your house. Moving you from in the doorway, pushing you back into your house as he shut the door behind him. The only light coming from the soft light above the stove emitting from the kitchen, flooding through the doorway that lead to it. 

“Nico.” Your voice was a breathy whisper, getting caught in your throat. 

“Did you mean it?” His face in the dark, his hair falling in his face, he was something out of a fairytale. 

“Fuck Nico, I wish you’d come, wish I’d never hung up the phone like I did, wish you knew that I’d never forget you as long as I’d live. I wish you were right here, right now, it’s all good. I wish you would.” You paused, catching your breath before continuing, Nico’s hands holding your waist now. His grip tightening with each word. “You always knew how to push my buttons, you gave me everything and nothing, this mad,mad love makes you come running.” 

“Schlatz,” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper as his hands gripped your hips. “I’m here, I’m never leaving.” 

His lips found their place on yours, melting your body against his. Your hands running through his hair, his hands moving to lift you, carrying you to your room. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t answer me this morning, I could’ve had you all day.” He mumbled, breaking the kiss before peppering your face in more. 

“I was scared! That message wasn’t supposed to send!” You grinned, tugging at the end of his hair. 

“Well I’m glad it did.” He grinned, hovering over your body where you laid on the bed, where he’d thrown you. 

“I’m glad it did too.” 

His lips found their home against yours again, pressing his body against yours. His wordless promise to never leave again.

[atinylittlepain]

Dancing in the Dark

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

The summer of '86, a season of love, record-breaking heat, and evening softball games in one Austin neighborhood. What happens when seventeen years later, that lost love comes back around?

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut, young joel is a goddamn menace, angst, references to bad home life, gin making random things canon

wordcount | 9.8K

a/n | welcome back to Hungry Hearts, y'all. i have to thank @northernbluess for beta-reading this bad boy. love you, cousin. as always, I'd love to hear what you think of the chapter!

.......................................

“Hey, Cher, you ready to go?”

“Does it look like I’m ready to go?”

“You look ready to me.”

“Joel, I’m not wearing a shirt.”

“It’s hot out, Cherry. I’m just thinking about your well-being here.”

“How considerate of you. Just give me a minute, and be quiet before my parents hear you.” 

“Bossy, bossy.” She leaves him at her window, shuffling back over to her closet to finish getting dressed. Joel, however, doesn’t stay put for long, swinging one leg, then the other over the sill and into her room before promptly banging his forehead on the opened pane of her window, a low curse leaving his mouth before she can shush him. 

“Very smooth.”

“Yeah, well, you know me. Now c’mere.” He hooks a finger into the belt loop of her jean shorts, a little tug that she resists, and then a bigger, more impatient tug that she can’t help but shuffle into. He’s actually wearing pants tonight, tight, tight blue jeans with a t-shirt that’s had the sleeves and sides cut out, a perfect space for her palms to splay along the bare sides of his ribs when he draws her in for a kiss by the hinge of her jaw. 

“If you start now, we’re never gonna make it to the fair.” He hums at that, his eyes still intently focused on her lips.

“Hmm, would that be such a bad thing?” 

“Uh, yes, I want to see the fireworks.” She’s not sure if he really heard that, his mind seeming to go a bit one-track as he looks at her bra, his fingers brushing over the top of the cups, catching on the lace there.

“This is new.”

“No, I just haven’t worn it around you before.” 

“Well, shit, Cher, you been holding out on me?” 

“Joel.”

“Alright, alright, hands off, I’ll let you get dressed.” As she pulls a tank top over her head, she realizes that he’s never been in her room before. Not even when they were kids. She steals a glance at him as she’s tying her sneakers, and he seems to be stealing glances of his own, subtly leaning over the small desk across from her bed, his eyes trailing over the stack of books sitting there, the photos she had pinned to the wall from her last year of college. He doesn’t say anything though, a quiet collecting, so she doesn’t say anything about it either, simply clearing her throat to grab his attention when she’s ready to go.

“Try not to knock your head into the window on the way out this time.” He doesn’t, though he grumbles through the close contortion he has to manage to pop back outside, panting a little when he holds his hand out for her through the window. It’s not like they had an actual conversation about the necessity of sneaking around with each other. It was an unspoken understanding. Her parents like Joel enough, she grew up with him after all, but she’s certain they would both have aneurysms if they found out what they’ve been getting up to. And anyways, it’s just for the summer, nothing serious, a bit of fun, and Joel seems just as content with that as she is. 

“Tell me about your classes.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d bore you if I did.” 

“We’ve got a half-hour drive, Cher, try me.” The sun is just starting to set, turning the inside of his truck a hazy orange as they drive down the highway away from the suburbs and toward the Austin city limits.

“Okay, in most of them we read books, then we talk about the books, then we write papers about the books.”

“That’s it?”

“I told you it’s boring.” 

“You’re taking writing classes too though, right?” 

“Yeah, I actually won an award for a short story I did in one of them.” She feels a bit stupid sharing that with him, a bit stupid for even wanting to in the first place. But he smiles, big and bright, his eyebrows lifting up with a quick glance over to her.

“No shit, Cher, that’s awesome. I’m not surprised though.” 

“Thanks, yeah, you wanna know what my mom said when I showed her the photo of me receiving the award?” 

“What’d she say?”

“She asked if I had really been wearing my hair like that at school.” For a moment, he’s silent, and her stomach twists up, worried that she shouldn’t have shared that because, obviously, why the hell would he want to hear her bitch about her mom? 

“That’s fucking bullshit, she seriously said that?”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom was always kind of a square.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” 

“You remember when I got gum stuck to your skirt in Sunday school?”

“Oh my god, she was so mad.” 

“She’s got that vein, right down the middle of her forehead, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I’m very familiar with that vein.”

“I swear, Cherry, I thought it was gonna burst she was yelling at me so good.”

“I remember watching that from the car. Your little mouth was just hanging open, I didn’t know if you were gonna bolt or barf.”

“I was scared shitless. She yell at you when y’all got home then?” 

“No, I got the silent treatment and no dinner for a week.”

“Shit, Cher, really?” Suddenly, the laugh buoying his words is gone, a little quieter, a little more tempered. And she realizes, oh, one of those things that isn’t normal. Oh, one of those things that doesn’t happen in other families. Since starting college, she’s gotten good at recognizing these moments, when the laughs die out right after something she said. Oh, your parents? Well, get a load of my parents. No, not funny. Not funny at all. A whole lot of not funny going on in her household. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s why I stopped sitting next to you in Sunday school.” Said with a weak laugh to make it okay, though Joel’s smile has still faltered into something closer to a grimace, his eyes staying still and squinted down the stretch of the highway. 

“Can I read the story sometime?” 

“Oh, um, yeah, okay, if you want.” He keeps his eyes on the road, but his hand that isn’t hanging over the steering wheel slips down to rest on the center console, palm face up, a wordless invitation that she finds herself taking with her own hand. A small comfort to press her palm into his.

“Of course I do, Cher.”

…

It’s the same thing every year. The same rides that always have a few screws loose, the same smell of food sizzling in oil that his doctor would definitely not want him eating, the same throngs of sunburned people shuffling from booth to booth down the drag of streets that have been closed off for the fair. For a while, he didn’t go, but since Sarah got old enough to be interested in all the fourth of July festivities, they’ve made the drive into Austin every year for it, though as of late, the night usually entails her meeting up with her friends and yes, dadding, him into leaving her alone until the fireworks are over. But he isn’t all alone this year, Tommy tagging along at the last minute when whatever his plans were, Joel shudders to think of what they were, fell through. So no, not pathetic at all, just two grown men wandering through the crowd and waiting until they can go home. 

“I saw we got a new appointment on the books for next week. Someone on Cascade Street?”

“Uh-huh.”

“New client?”

“Yep, yeah, they just moved in.”

“Why are you being weird about it?” Tommy stops in his tracks, scrunching his face up at Joel who would really like this topic of conversation to get dropped. 

“I’m not, Tommy, why are you so concerned about this new client?” 

“What are they getting done?” 

“New porch.” 

“Who’s taking the job?” 

“I am.”

“You?” 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tommy shrugs, scoffing when Joel starts walking again without him, quick to catch up and step into stride with him.

“Seems like a pretty rinky-dink job for you to take on, especially when we’re in the middle of that new build on Cypress.”

“I thought you said you have Cypress under control?” He’s being a touch too snappy about it, he knows it, and judging by the weird look Tommy is giving him, his hands up as if in surrender, he knows it too. 

“I do, I’m just surprised that you aren’t letting one of the other guys take that job on, is all. What, is it a pretty lady or something?” Before Joel can figure out how to answer that question, Tommy’s eyes are widening and slipping right over his shoulder, and then–

“Holy shit, holy shit.”

“What?” 

“See for yourself, brother.” Tommy shuffles him around by his shoulders, Joel’s protests dying in his throat when he sees her. Mercifully, she hasn’t seen them yet, standing in line at a frozen lemonade stand with her phone at her ear, having what looks to be a heated conversation. He doesn’t see Ellie with her, though, and figures to himself that she’s gotten the same treatment he has from Sarah. And suddenly, frozen lemonade seems like a very good idea because his throat has gotten quite dry looking at her. Those same jean shorts he saw her in the last time, and a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of her t-shirt. Her very tight t-shirt that rides up a little more when she raises her hand to push those sunglasses of hers back into her hair. And, well, he’s not trying to be a perv, but it doesn’t take much more than a glance to tell that she isn’t wearing a bra beneath her very, very tight t-shirt. 

“Cherry!” 

“Tommy, what the fuck?” Too late, her head has already whipped around, her phone still pressed to her ear, though the scowl that had been on her face melts into a small smile, her eyes widening in recognition. Meanwhile, Joel is considering how hard he would have to punch his brother to rattle his pea-sized brain into some sense. Cherry seems to finish her phone call with a quick flurry, already walking over to them as she hangs up.

“Tommy Miller, look at you!” Tommy pulls her into a tight hug, a small oof leaving her as he hoists her up until only her toes are on the ground before setting her back down with a slap to her arm. Joel decidedly does not give her such a greeting. 

“Cher, of all the people I don’t think I’d ever expect to see you around here, goddamn!”

“Wait, Joel didn’t tell you I moved back?” They both turn their attention to Joel, who only manages to open and close his mouth a few times before Tommy lets out a scoff. 

“You knew that she was back and you didn’t tell me?” 

“Uh, well–”

“I thought for sure he would have told you. He’s coming out to look at my porch next week. Very impressive by the way, Tom, Miller’s Construction.” At that, something smug slides down Tommy’s face as he looks over at Joel.

“Oh, is he now? Say, Cher, you didn’t happen to move in on Cascade Street, did you?”

“Yeah, that’s right, so Joel did tell you then?” Joel contorts his face in the best expression of please no, Tommy, I will kill you if you do that he can muster over Cherry’s shoulder, but Tommy just grins at him, and then at Cherry. 

“No, nope, I just saw in our books that there was an appointment on Cascade next week with a very important person. Just putting two and two together for myself since it looks like no one tells me anything around here.” With that, Tommy claps Joel on the shoulder, who still hasn’t managed to get a word in edgewise between the two of them. Cherry has a smile on her face like she knows exactly what’s going on.

“Well, anyways, it’s so good to see you, Cher. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“It’s good to see you too, Tommy. I’m really glad to see you looking so well.” 

“I try, now if you two kids will excuse me, I have a date with something deep fried and covered in sugar.” Tommy is off in a flash, leaving Joel to flounder beneath Cherry’s simpering gaze. 

“You didn’t tell Tommy that I was back?”

“I didn’t think it was mine to tell.” She nods, squinting at him through the bleary haze of the sunset.

“So this hasn’t changed much at all.”

“No, I reckon these are the same rides we went on as kids.”

“Don’t remind me, I’m already worried that Ellie’s off getting kidnapped right now. I don’t need tetanus and loss of limb added to the list.”

“So you got dumped too then?” They make their way back over to the line in front of the frozen lemonade stand, a bit longer than it was before, but he’s happy to wait with her. 

“Afraid so, apparently when you turn fourteen you no longer want to be seen in public with your mom.”

“That applies to dads too.” They both share a tired smile and a small shrug, and once again he can’t believe he’s standing here with her, talking about parenthood of all things. 

“Ellie’s on a date, but don’t tell her I told you that.” Said with a slanted smile and a bump of her shoulder into his.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmhmm, she’s been harboring quite the crush on her team’s center outfielder.” The gears in his mind spin for a moment, and then it clicks. 

“Oh, oh, huh.” 

“Nice save, Joel.” 

“No, I mean, that’s great, Cher. Good for her for, uh, knowing herself.” He palms the back of his neck, trying to cool the quick heat creeping there as she laughs at him. It’s a heat he hasn’t felt in a long time, though she was always quick to draw it out of him, always quick to catch him.

“Yeah, it is. I do worry though. Austin is definitely not New York.”

“That it ain’t, though I don’t think she’s gonna have to worry with you for her mom. You always did know how to give people the what for.” 

“You’re damn right about that.” That’s a smile he’d like to remember, a grin really, her eyes crinkling up at him, a little wry and a little fierce. That heat just keeps creeping. 

When they get to the front of the line, she starts to argue with him when he tries to pay for her drink, though he manages to sneak it by her when she gets distracted by another phone call buzzing through her back pocket. She checks the caller ID, sighs, and immediately shoves the phone back into her pocket, letting out another sigh when she sees that he’s already paid for her lemonade. 

“For the record, I’m getting the next one.” 

“Sure, Cher.” His mind gets a little stuck on next one, though he manages to follow her over to a bench and sit down with her, when once again, her phone starts ringing. She doesn’t check it, simply takes a long swig through the straw of her drink as it continues to buzz and ring.

“Not gonna take that call?” 

“Nope, do you want some of this?” Maybe it’s childish, but the thought of drinking from the same straw as her makes his brain start to fry, so he shakes his head no and grips the edge of the bench a little tighter. 

“Is that who you were on the phone with earlier?”

“Oh, you saw that, huh?” It makes him feel sheepish, admitting that he had, nodding to her question. Her shoulders slacken with a long sigh, another pull from her lemonade before she continues speaking. 

“It’s my agent, poking around for my next draft.”

“So you weren’t kidding about the big leagues? Got an agent and everything.”

“I wish I didn’t have one, honestly. But I kinda have to when I’m dealing with all these big publishers.” She pinches the bridge of her nose as she says it, her eyes dropping shut, and he finally sees that she is actually very tired. A little drawn, heavy circles under her eyes, a little thin, sharp around the edges in a way he doesn’t remember. How he missed it before he isn’t sure, but now that he sees it, something slight and sharp slips between his ribs and curls around his heart. 

“You’re working on another book then?” How quickly she hides away that weariness, looking at him with her cheek tilted over her shoulder and a bright smile.

“I’m trying to. You probably don’t care to hear about this–”

“I do, Cher, always wanted to hear about your stories.” It comes out before he can think much about it, and her expression does a strange thing. A quick fall, a scrunch of her brows, and then a slight frown before she shakes her head as if to clear the whole thing away. 

“Have you really not read a single one of my books, Joel?” 

“Uh, I–”

“No, don’t answer that. Wasn’t a fair question, sorry. Anyways, there’s nothing much to tell about this one because I am completely stuck with it.” 

“Stuck?” 

“I’m about this close to scrapping the whole thing. I don’t know, I guess part of me thought the move would shake something loose, but I still got nothing.” It’s not like he could offer her any advice on it, and it’s not like she’s looking for it either, another sigh around her straw and a shrug of her shoulders, always quick to make nothing out of something. 

“You eaten anything for dinner yet?”

“Does this thirty-two ounce frozen lemonade count?” He’s already getting up and holding out his hand for her, and while it seems like the simplest movement, his mind instantly questions if it’s too much, though he fights against that with a foolish hope. 

“C’mon, Cher, I think I can do you one better than a frozen lemonade.” No big deal, she takes his hand. No big deal, he tells himself. No big deal when she lets go either, because that’s normal too. That’s friendly. And friendly is good. 

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then it is definitely going to be better than this frozen lemonade.” 

…

“You got a little, right there–” Before she can wipe away whatever he’s referring to with a napkin, Joel has already licked his thumb and swiped it along the corner of her mouth, promptly sucking what she assumes is barbecue sauce off the pad of his finger. 

“That was so gross.”

“What? I’m saving paper.”

“Lovely.”

“Always, Cherry baby.” The sun had set a while ago, the streets lit up in a syrupy wash of neon from all the rides and games lining the several blocks. They ran the whole circuit of the booths, her constantly pulling Joel away to keep him from spending any more money on trying to win her something, and inevitably failing at whatever rigged game he stepped up to. She can already see his eyes dragging over the remaining booths as they finish their meal at one of the picnic tables set up next to all the food vendors, planning his attack, no doubt.

“You know I really don’t care about getting a stuffed animal, right?” 

“It’s the principle of the thing, Cher.”

“Those games are literally designed for people to lose at them. Seriously, I don’t want you to waste any more money on it.” She quickly realizes that was the exact wrong thing to say, Joel’s eyes flashing back to her, hard and steeled, on the defense. 

“You don’t gotta worry about what I do with my money, okay?” His words come out rushed and loud, with a quick shake of his head, enough to startle her back from where her thigh had been pressed close to his, something that immediately washes the edge out of his expression, his eyebrows slackening and his lips parting.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, Joel.” Her mouth feels dry, a cool prickle in her scalp, regret swirling up her meal in her stomach. He gets enough of that from everyone else, the money, the job, the what is the plan. He doesn’t need it from her too. 

“No, I’m sorry, it’s just– forget it, I shouldn’t have gone after you like that.” She’s not quite ready to look at him, keeping her eyes focused on the red and white checkered napkin that she’s twisting in her hands. But of course, Joel doesn’t abide by that for long, ducking his head and leaning over to place a smacking kiss on the corner of her mouth before angling back again to get one planted square on her lips. 

“You– taste– like– smoked– brisket–” Each of his words is punctuated with another peck until she can no longer stave off the smile threatening at the corners of her lips, shoving him back with a palm pressed in the middle of his chest. 

“Oh shit, Miller, is that you?” Her stomach turns over, because she’s pretty sure she knows whose voice that is, and she wishes that she didn’t. She isn’t sure what the next best move is, though Joel seems to make the decision for her, slinging his arm over her shoulder to tuck her into his side just as Mikey Donahue comes sauntering over to where they’re sitting. 

“Hey, Mike, you out with the guys tonight?” Joel offers his hand out for a hard shake, apparently still chummy with Mikey after the little scene at his party. Though she supposes water flows under the bridge a little faster for boys anyways. 

“Nah, decided to finally bite the bullet and take Maureen out, she ducked into the bathrooms but she should be wandering over soon.” Though the answer is directed at Joel, Mikey’s eyes stay steady on her, a smile that she doesn’t like the curl of crooking his mouth. 

“Y’all are quite the couple. Does your daddy know you’re out with this menace, big city?” It’s so small, so subtle, but she can still feel it, the way Joel’s hand curls closely and tenses around her forearm from where his arm had been draped around her.

“Ha, ha, Mikey, that’s very funny. I’m a big girl though, don’t really need my daddy or you to be concerned with my business.” Joel snorts over her shoulder, and she has to resist the urge to elbow him for it. 

“Whatever you say, big city. Oh, here comes Maureen. Do y’all mind if we join you?” She’s quick to cut Joel off before he can answer, squeezing his thigh hard to shut him up as she offers Mikey a tight-lipped smile. 

“Actually, we were just heading off to get a few rides in before the fireworks, but y’all have fun.” Not another word, though she’s pretty sure she hears Mikey let out a laugh as she pulls Joel up and along behind her before Maureen can even get anywhere near them. 

“Cher, you know I don’t like rides.” Said very lowly, a bit bashful, she thinks, his head ducking down to speak the words right into her ear. Yeah, she knows, and has known since they were nine and Tommy and her forced him onto the Gravitron, which ended with Joel in tears and a puddle of what had been his dinner next to the trash can that he missed by only a hair. 

“I know, I just needed an excuse to get away from those two. But, really, Joel? Not even the ferris wheel?” He stops walking for a moment, his eyes scanning over the arc of the ride as if to give it his full consideration. Finally, he looks at her again, his lips pressed in a thin line.

“How bad do you wanna go on it?” 

“I think it could be nice, but not if you’re going to be all weird about it.” She swears she sees his chest puff a little, and with that, he takes her hand with all the conviction of a man going off to war. 

“I’m not going to be weird about it, let’s go.” Famous last words. He’s the picture of ease all while they’re standing in line, but the instant they cram into one of the cars, his whole body tenses up, his knuckles going white where they’re gripping onto the side railing. She doesn’t say anything at first, just puts her hand on his bouncing knee when the ride cranks into motion. Though when they crest the top of the ride and it stops again, Joel’s poorly contained panic becomes impossible to ignore.

“Oh, what the fuck–”

“It’s okay, they’re just letting more people on.” She doesn’t think that he hears her, too busy craning his neck over the side of the car before skittering back into place when the lean of his body makes the whole thing rock. 

“This is so fucked–”

“Joel.”

“Why do people enjoy this? That’s–”

“Joel.” 

“What?” He finally looks at her, eyes a bit frantic and jaw slack. She can’t help but reach out and brush his hair back from his face. 

“Is it– are you afraid of heights?” Calling it what it is seems to calm him, his shoulders finally coming down from his ears and his eyes softening. She lets her hand dip down to curl behind his neck, her fingers scratching lightly into the back of his hair.

“Maybe, but I’d say that’s a pretty rational fear, Cher.” 

“Yeah, it is, and you’re also totally safe right now.” Her words are undermined just a bit when the ride screeches back into motion just as she finishes saying them, Joel’s eyes going wide again as he whips his head around to look over the edge of the car. Right, drastic measures then. 

“Hey.” First, she shrugs her thigh over top of his to stop the anxious bounce in his knee, already drawing his attention back onto her. Then, she leans in a little closer so she can keep her eyes steady with his, her hand firm along the side of his neck to hold him in place. 

“Just look right here and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Well, I’m not the one freaking out on a ferris wheel right now.”

“Hey.” She shouldn’t, like giving a child what they want just because they’re having a tantrum. But she does, pressing one kiss, then another to his lips, small, swift little pecks that he eventually starts to lean into, his hand that had been gripping onto the railing coming up to settle along the line of her jaw when she swipes her tongue across his bottom lip. They’ve gotten a little better at this, at making compromises with each other, giving and taking almost equally, opening up for each other. And, not that his ego needs to hear it, but she really likes kissing him. 

His panic seems to be all forgotten as he licks into her mouth, his nose brushing along the side of hers. Always a little greedy though, crowding her into the side of the car and making a soft sound skitter up her throat when his teeth graze along her lip. 

“Uh, excuse me?” It startles them both, Joel very slowly pulling away from her and turning his head to look at the ride attendant, the very unamused looking ride attendant. 

“Y’all can get off now, thanks.” 

…

“Goddamn.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“They don’t have barbecue up north?” 

“Not like this they don’t, Jesus.” He tries not to smile too big at the satisfied hum that leaves her throat as she takes another bite. And he’s also trying hard not to watch her too closely, because, no, it’s probably not normal to just stare at someone while they’re eating brisket and potato salad. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Busted, and, well, actually, he motions to the side of his own mouth, words getting caught in his throat. She gets the hint though, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at the same spot on her face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how hungry I actually was. I probably look a little crazy right now.” 

“Are you eating proper while you’re working?” Sheepish, the flicker of her eyes from beneath her lashes is enough of an answer to his question. Some things never change, he supposes. 

“I may get a little distracted.”

“Uh-huh.” A quick, quiet smile shared, a knowing. He likes knowing. 

“Mom?” No, he is still not used to that, both of them whipping their heads around where they’re sitting at a picnic bench to see her daughter with a very furrowed look on her face. 

“Hey, babe, everything okay?” Ellie is looking at Joel. Sizing him up is more like it, her lips pursed and her arms crossed, her hip cocked to the side, just like he knows her mom does when she’s not pleased with something. 

“Uh, yeah, we were just gonna– wait, are you eating meat?” He glances back to Cherry, who now has the guiltiest little smile on her face, her eyebrows pulled together in a quiet cringe as she tries to inconspicuously swallow another bite of food.

“I am, Els, I’m sorry. I gotta be honest, I don’t think I’m gonna keep up the vegetarian thing all the time, but you know I’ll support you if you still want to.” Ellie gives her an eye roll that looks like it’s going to get stuck in the back of her head, a little huff and a few shuffled steps in place like she can’t believe this.

“Okay, well, fine, I guess. I was gonna ask if you had found something to eat that didn’t have dead animal in it, but obviously you’re not gonna be much help with that so I’ll see you later.” With that, Ellie turns heel back into the crowd, Joel still unsure exactly what he just watched.

“They have fried pickles, babe, those should be fine! Be safe, please!” Ellie only acknowledges her shout with a glance spared over her shoulder, Cherry immediately deflating when her daughter gets swallowed up by the crowd, bringing her thumb and forefinger to pinch the bridge of her nose again.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that just happened.” Said with a dejected little laugh that only grows when she takes another bite of brisket, his chest loosening up when she shakes her head and offers him a smile.

“So vegetarian, huh?” Cherry shrugs.

“New York.” 

“Sarah had a phase with it too. Only lasted three days before Tommy took her to KFC and she swayed.” 

“Ellie is a little more, uh, zealous about it. It’s going on two years now since she watched some documentary and came into my room in complete tears over, and mind you that a twelve-year-old said this, the horrors of animal agriculture.” 

“Well shit.” 

“Right?” 

“You’re telling me you’ve been vegetarian for two years?”

“Don’t laugh, Joel.” It only makes him laugh harder, Cherry shoving him in the arm as she tries to scrunch her mouth out of a smile. But beneath that laugh, there’s something else, something warm and a little giddy. He’s noticed it every time she has said his name. 

“No wonder you were so hungry, Cher, damn.”

“This may surprise you, but meat isn’t the only food group. And I’ll have you know I make some damn good tofu enchiladas.” 

“Well that’s just sacreligious.”

“Oh please.” Back and forth, slipping into that easy volley without either of them noticing that their faces have started inching closer and closer, though when they do there’s a quick flush of heat that has them both clearing their throats and widening that space again. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, where did Will end up?” 

“Oregon, he’s a really great photographer these days.” 

“Y’all keep in touch?”

“A little, yeah. I think for a while, we were both just happy to have gotten out, you know? It made us keep our distance from each other. But he came and visited last year, got to meet Ellie for the first time.” 

“That’s great, Cher.”

“Yeah, it is. He’s turning thirty-three this year, if you can believe it.” 

“Jesus.”

“I know, how’d that happen, huh?” Joel just shakes his head, a memory already floating up to the surface. Will was a freshman when they were seniors, tall but slight for his age, quieter, kept more to himself, though Joel made a point of saying hi to him in the hallways, clapping him on the back in the lunch line. There was a day, maybe a week after winter break, and Joel was loitering in the halls during a class he didn’t have any patience for when he saw Will at his locker. All smiles, all loud and brash greetings that all faded when he saw the shiner mottling under Will’s right eye. He remembers being ready to go on the warpath for the kid, asking him over and over, who did this, man, just tell me, who did this? He figured, one of the guys from the football team, someone he could set straight, and that he of course would set straight for Cherry’s little brother. But Will just kept saying nobody, it’s nobody, Joel, please don’t. It was probably two months later when he finally figured out who nobody was, a slow realization, something clicking into place. 

But he knows better than to share that memory with her, the same way he knows better than to ask her if she has kept in touch with her parents. He already knows the answer to that question. 

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“Where’d you go?” Her head tilted at him, a suggestion of a smile. 

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“And that’s mean.” Back to the present, sitting next to her on a picnic bench, he has to shake his head of it. A strange feeling, how carefully they’re stepping around the past, sharing pieces in scraps, in unsure palms, always quick to make it light, make a joke of it. He’s not sure how long he can keep dancing like this. 

“Are you sticking around for the fireworks?”

“I was informed by Sarah to meet her at the car after the fireworks, so yeah, I guess I am.” 

“Oh, how funny, I was given the same instructions by my own little tyrant.” 

“Imagine that.” 

“You wouldn’t want to watch them with me, would you?” 

“I’d love to, Cher.”

…

“You do realize you’re driving us in the opposite direction of where the fireworks are being set off, right?” 

“Do you trust me or not?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly or not?” 

“You know I could kick you out of my car if I wanted to.” 

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.” 

“Cherry, just– quiet for a minute–”

“Don’t tell me to be quiet, Joel!”

“I’m trying to concentrate, goddamnit! You’re gonna make me miss the turn.”

“What turn? We’re literally on the highway and there isn’t another exit for–” Her thought gets lost behind a gasp when Joel mutters a quiet shit under his breath and suddenly veers completely off the road and into what she thinks is a corn field, though she’s a little too busy shouting whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck over and over again as the car bounces and bumps over uneven ground. And seemingly just as suddenly, he stops the car altogether, putting it in park and killing the engine in what, yes, is the middle of a cornfield, the stalks unusually high and proud for this early in the season. It’s already dark out, deep blue and bruising shadows, she can only barely see his face in what light the lamp post about fifty yards away offers.

“What the fuck?”

“You already asked that about a thousand times, Cher.” 

“Yeah, and you haven’t answered, so again, what the fuck?” He’s still not answering, shouldering into his door to get it open against the close crush of the tightly planted corn stalks, letting out a satisfied grunt when it finally gives way.

“Joel–”

“Cherry, just shut up and give me your hand.” 

“If you ever tell me to shut up again I’m going to make sure you regret it.” 

“Noted, now come here.” Albeit reluctantly, she takes his hand from where he’s now leaning out of the driver’s side door, managing an awkward shimmy over the center console and into the driver’s seat as Joel swings his body out along the side of the car, one leg hitching into the truck bed. The soft silk of corn stalks brushes against her legs and arms as she follows after him, holding on tight to his hand to hoist herself up and into the truck bed alongside him, a quick tumble over each other, all tangled up. Though not for long, Joel already getting to work shaking out what she sees is a stack of moving blankets in the back of the truck bed. She takes a moment to look around, a thick line of trees surrounding the field on the side opposite to the road, so late that she doesn’t think a single car has passed by since they’ve driven out here. And, she hates to admit it, a perfect view down the stretch of the highway of the stadium where they’re setting off the fireworks from. 

“You good?” His question startles her out of her slow scan of the surroundings, finally looking back at him to see that he’s spread the blankets out in the bed of the truck, his back resting against the cab and his legs stretched out in front of him. 

“Y-yeah.” It comes out small and shaky, and while she thinks she knows why, she tamps that down tight as she crawls over to sit beside him. Even though it’s oppressively hot, she still tucks down into his side when he lets his arm fall over her shoulders. Perfect spot and perfect timing too, but she doesn’t watch the sky when she hears that familiar whistle and pop of rockets, choosing instead to see the light burst and shatter over his face, the slow fall of it in his eyes. And there’s no tamping it down now, that feeling starting to fizz and lift in her chest, and as she continues to watch each succession of color and sound wash over Joel’s parted lips and wide eyes, she knows that she is absolutely, irreparably, fucked. 

“You’re not even watching.” 

“Yes I am.” He’s not watching anymore either, looking at her down the length of his nose, all shadow between the quick fractures of light. Their chins bump first before they get it right, seeking each other out by feel. His hands finding her hips, squeezing and coaxing her into his lap, though he pulls away when the next resonant crack of fireworks splits the sky and her whole body tenses. 

“You don’t like the sound?” 

“It’s not my favorite thing.” No, she doesn’t like that sound. That sound that reminds her of the whole lot of not funny going on in her household, but she’s already leaning in to forget all that with her mouth pressed to his. Though Joel holds her back, firm palm, big palm, steady and curled at the nape of her neck. 

“Is it okay though? You’re okay?” It doesn’t help her case when another stream of fireworks sets off just as he asks it, her body jolting in his hold again, but she tries to pass it off with a breathy laugh. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m fine. Just come here, please.” He relents, his hand slipping down along her spine to press her closer as she opens his mouth with hers, a shared sigh and the quiet scrape of teeth, her palm splayed over his chest feeling the thrum of his moan when she licks into his mouth. He’s being careful, she can tell, and she doesn’t think it’s only because they can just barely see each other in the dim light and the punctuated bursts of brightness from the fireworks, his hands splaying wide along the span of her back, holding her so close that every time her muscles tense and jump at the sounds it just sends her closer into his arms. He’s steady, perfectly, his thumbs stroking back and forth along her spine, constant and lulling until she knows that the fireworks are still going on, the pinpricks of light in the periphery, but she can no longer hear them over the rushing in her ears and the way she’s trying to collect every breath of his with her own. 

And she just wants more, however she can get it, his stomach tensing up when her fingers slip beneath the hem of his shirt, only pulling away enough that he can help her tug it over his head. Always so warm beneath her hands, she keeps one palm in the center of his chest, finding that pulse, that beat that always seems so strong to her, as Joel’s hands begin to wander. Ever predictable, the first stop of his circuit is her ass, both palms splayed and squeezing, making a weak noise fizzle out in her throat as he rocks her forward into the hardness in his jeans. From there, his palms slip down to the meat of her thighs, another squeeze, his fingers flickering under the hem of her shorts. Their kiss breaks with a quiet click, lips shined and swollen with it as she leans back to peel her tank top off, though before she can unclasp her bra, Joel grabs both her wrists, his eyes wide and pleading.

“What’s wrong?” The fireworks have stopped, so she must squint in the shadows to see the way his eyes are drooping down, the dip and bob of his throat as he swallows.

“Nothing, I just– s’pretty.” He lets go of her wrists, his fingers coming up to ghost over the tops of her breasts, that slight spill of flesh over the top of her bra, a small sigh that she can see leave his chest as he watches her own inhale and exhale. 

“Do you want me to leave it on, baby?” She’s never called him that before, though judging by the broken groan that crackles in his chest, he liked it, a new warmth curling deep in her stomach at the sound. 

“Please, Cher.” She can’t help the grin that slips across her face, circling one of his wrists with her palm to draw it up to her lips, pressing a kiss to the pad of each finger before guiding his hand down to the waistband of her shorts. Quick to flicker through the button and zipper, it’s all slow moves as he surges forward and she leans back until she’s laying out in the bed of the truck with Joel between her legs and nothing on but that bra he seems to like so much. It doesn’t surprise her that he wastes no time in ducking his head down to mouth over the fabric of her bra, her spine arching up into the wet heat with a sigh. Though he’s gone just as fast, drifting further down over the fluttering rise and fall of her stomach, his lips catching below her navel before he settles between her legs with her thighs resting over his shoulders. 

He learned fast what she likes, with her hand in his hair and her words so quick to correct or to praise, he learned very fast. So she doesn’t have to say a thing now, a silent cry crackling in her jaw when he drags his tongue through the heat of her cunt. She can already feel a perfect bead of arousal dripping from between her thighs down the cleft of her ass as his mouth rests over her clit and he sucks, sharp, quick, before dipping back down and doing it again. He’s gotten more confident, more brazen about it, a little rough in the way his fingers dig into the swell of her thighs, demanding everything, open and willing and waiting for whatever he will give her. And she gives it to him, fingers threaded through his hair to tug when his teeth graze too tender, her spine strung tight and taut as her cunt clenches around nothing. The sound is obscene, a salacious secret amidst the hum of crickets and the close quiet of the night, the little hums he can’t seem to stop rising in his throat as he eats at her, the slick slip of it, and the gentle, but still there, rock of the truck from how he’s grinding his hips down, seeking out more just the same as her. 

His one palm slips under the curve of her ass, tilting her hips up toward his mouth as he continues to lick and suck at her cunt, all that pleasure starting to hurt, starting to snap and snarl as she tugs a little harder at his hair. 

“I– more– something more, please.” He lifts his gaze from its hazy drop, the whites of his eyes still hooded and shining up to her as he rests his cheek against the soft inside of her thigh, the little pants of his breath washing over her cunt and making her hips twitch. 

“You want more?” She would smack him for looking so smug if she didn’t need it so bad, settling instead for another tug in his hair that makes him puff out a laugh. He doesn’t wait for any more of an answer, happy to oblige with two of his fingers dragging down through her swollen cunt before dipping inside, heat shooting up her spine when he curls them just so, that small stretch, that ache, that want. He presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh before his teeth sink into the flesh, his fingers already finding a steady rhythm that’s making her buck up into his hand. 

“Yes– just like that– I want– I want–”

“You want it?’

“Uh-huh.”

“You need it?” 

“So bad, Joel, please.”

“I know, Cherry, look at you, huh? So perfect like this.” He continues to coo at her in that low hum when it finally catches up with her, that pleasure pulling taut fraying all at once, her whole body curling in tight and tense and then releasing with a languid moan. My girl, my fucking girl, so good, my good fucking girl. She hears it somewhere in the back of her mind, tucking it away behind the wall of sound and sense still coursing through her as her hips jolt in his grasp, so sensitive that tears start to pearl along her lashes. She thinks her heart might actually stop when he finally pulls his fingers away and up to his mouth, sucking each one with a hum and an absurd pop before he crawls up her body to give her a taste. 

Her hands are already tugging at his jeans, only a bit surprised when she manages to ruck them down and finds that he isn’t wearing underwear. 

“You are such a freak.” He laughs, leaving a harsh nip to the hinge of her jaw.

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, it’s easy access, Cher.” She only manages to get his jeans down over the curve of his ass, but it’s enough so she can slip her palms down and dig her fingernails into the flesh in retaliation, Joel groaning and dropping his forehead down to her sternum. 

“Be nice.”

“You be nice.”

“You’re the one that called me a freak.” 

“And it stands.”

“If I’m a freak then you’re a–”

“Careful, baby.” 

“You’re a menace.” He hisses out the word as he spreads her open on his cock in one slow drag, the both of them sighing as he stills inside her. For a moment the only sound is their ragged breaths. Slow movements, his hand curling around the back of her knee to draw it up against his hip, another small rock that makes her preen with how full she feels. Her mouth stays stamped at his hairline, words murmured there as she curls her arm around his shoulder blades. 

“I’m a menace?” 

“Uh-huh, you d-drive me insane.” His words come out breathless as he finally pulls his hips back, a little more force in his next thrust that makes a whine tear through her chest. He’s so deep, grinding his hips into hers even deeper and all she can do is take it, her heel digging into his low back as he does it again and again and again. 

“Well you drive me in-insane too– oh.” The words slip out in stilted stutters, tears dripping cool and sticky down her flushed cheeks as he finds a different movement, one that’s harder and meaner, rucking her up the bed of the truck with every shunt of his hips against hers, his chest pressed tight against hers, sweat beading and dripping between her breasts.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” Pitchy and high in her throat, she can’t help it when he slips a hand between the humid stick of their bodies to drag his fingers against her clit. 

“Good.” It isn’t long before they’re both unraveling around each other, his forehead pressed hard into hers, the weight of him heaving and draped over her, stifling and sweaty and perfect. Her whole body shakes with the panting laugh he lets out, finally resting his chin between her breasts to look up at her. 

“My little menace.” She can’t help but laugh too, his cheeks splitting into a grin at the sound. 

“My big freak.”

“Hey.”

…

“Oh my god.”

“What, what is it?”

“I think that’s Ellie and her date.” 

“Where?”

“Don’t be so obvious about it, two rows down, across the aisle.” Her hand is on his shoulder, her finger pointed right next to his face to guide his gaze toward where she’s looking. Sure enough, it’s Ellie, sitting very close to another girl on the bleachers, oblivious to the crush of the crowd around them, smiling and laughing to each other as they wait for the fireworks to start. He never liked watching from inside the stadium, thinking that all the bright lights sort of defeated the purpose, but now he’s grateful for them so he can get a better look to confirm that yes, that is definitely Ellie who is now putting her arm around her date, getting even cozier. 

“Oh my god.” He finally looks away to see Cherry hanging on his shoulder, perfectly mortified at the sight in front of her.

“You got a regular Casanova on your hands, Cher.” 

“I feel like I’m going to cry, or maybe scream, or maybe throw up.” He’s watching her watching them, her brow crumpled and her jaw completely slack, pure shock. He’d laugh, but he’s pretty sure he’d be in a far worse state if he saw Sarah in a similar position. 

“Hey, it’s okay, they’re just–”

“Oh my fucking god, look!” His eyes dart back just in time to see what he’s pretty sure is the end of a kiss, the young pair shyly pulling away from each other with small smiles.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

“Do you think that was her first kiss?” It’s such an absurd question. He’s only just met the kid, after all. But when he looks back at Cherry and sees the pleading tilt of her eyes, how could he not try his best?

“Well, I don’t know, Cher, do you?” Maybe his best wasn’t very good.

“I don’t know. Oh fuck, I shouldn’t have seen that. I should not have seen that. She’s too young for that, right? I should go get her, yeah, that’s what I should do.” She’s already starting to get up out of her seat, and all Joel can think to do is grab her hand to keep her where she is.

“Woah, woah, hey, I think they’re fine, Cher. Look, they’re just talking now.” She squeezes his hand, still looking at Ellie with a deep frown on her face, but she does sit back down. She’s still holding onto his hand while she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You think so?”

“Tell me this, how old were you when you had your first kiss?” Suddenly, the worry in her face slackens, something a bit more bashful slipping into place. She’s still holding onto his hand.

“Well, I was thirteen.” 

“There you go, it’s normal then.” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“How old were you when you had yours?” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“I don’t know, probably thirteen like you.” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“You mean you don’t remember?” She’s still holding onto his hand.

“Not really.” 

“How can you not remember your first kiss?” She finally lets go of his hand, only so that she can talk with her own, a bit of flailing and exasperation at him before her hands settle in her lap. He rests his on his knee, a hard squeeze to stop any lingering want.

“I just don’t. It was a long time ago, and it obviously wasn’t very important.” 

“Do you at least remember who it was with?” He does, but she’s not going to like the answer, and suddenly the toes of his boots are very interesting as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“Uh, Maureen.” He says it as he drags his hand down his jaw, the name getting muffled beneath his palm. Cherry’s face scrunches up.

“Come again?” He really doesn’t want to say it again, but he knows she’s not going to give this up now, her chin tilted down and her eyes narrowed at him.

“Maureen? Maureen Henderson, yep.” As if a yep might make it better, but her brows have already done that thing, that familiar thing where they shoot up her forehead, then scrunch down again, then slacken.

“Huh, so Maureen wasn’t very memorable then?”

“Nope, not at all.” She purses her lips and nods, her eyes squinting out across the stadium for a moment. But before whatever is simmering below the surface can bubble over, the first booming firework goes off, and her whole body recoils. 

“Oh, motherfucker.” It happens again, another fizzle and crack, and as the crowd oohs and ahhs, she digs her fingernails into her thighs and grits her jaw. 

“That never got any better, huh?”

“Afraid not.” He wants to reach out for her, to curl his arm around her shoulders and pull her tight into his side, to absorb the shock that keeps resounding through her body. He knows how to, after all.��

“Is– is there something I can do, Cher?” Her eyes are a little unfocused, even when he ducks his head down to try to get her attention.

“You’d think that by now I’d have figured out that every loud sound isn’t–” Almost like a hiccup when the next rocket goes off. The only thing that’s different is that now, each time, first her eyes dart over to where Ellie is sitting, checking, making sure. He feels his heart ripping apart watching her. 

“Hey.” It comes out quieter than he meant it to, but her eyes still turn onto him when he puts his hand on her knee.

“You wanna go wait at your car?” She nods, and that’s enough for him to go into action, not thinking twice about taking her hand again and shepherding them both down one of the aisles further away from where Ellie is sitting. Back and forth, back and forth, his thumb stays steady and smoothing along her hand the whole way out of the stadium and into the massive parking lot.

“My car or yours, Cher?” 

“I don’t– I don’t– Ellie– uh, I–” She’s still holding tight to his hand, her eyes darting around the lot, clearly working herself into a state, the continued onslaught of fireworks not helping at all. 

“That’s alright. Cher? It’s alright, okay? Let’s sit in my car and I’ll drive you to yours when this is over.” He thinks she says okay, but he’s already focused on pulling her along to his car. And when they get in, him in the driver’s seat and her in the passenger’s, he realizes that, no, he’s not going to crack the windows, trying to keep as much of the sound out as possible. So he lets the car idle and cranks the AC up as high as it will go, and it’s probably going to burn up his tank of gas, but he doesn’t care, because it seems to muffle the noise of the fireworks just enough for her to start coming back down. He’s still holding her hand over the center console.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, Joel.” She takes her hand out of his, pressing her palm to her chest, letting out a long breath through her nose. 

“Don’t, Cherry. It’s okay.” She keeps her eyes closed and her palm against her chest, long inhales and exhales, and he realizes that she’s doing a breathing exercise. He only knows it because the shrinks at the VA started Tommy in on it when he kept having panic attacks after coming home. And something like anger settles in his stomach, slithering up and seeping out between his ribs, sickening and slick. Anger that no, this hasn’t gotten any better. Anger that no, this probably won’t get better. And no, no one deserves it, but he selfishly thinks to himself that she especially doesn’t deserve it. 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Cher.” Her eyes finally slip open, head tilting onto her shoulder to look at him. Mercy, it’s passing. Mercy, he could help her through its passing. 

“So, Maureen Henderson, huh?” 

“Oh, you’re still on that?” Small smile, he’ll take it.

“You could have done better, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“Well since you remember it so well, who was your first?” 

“You’re not gonna like my answer.” 

“Try me.” 

“It was Mikey Donahue.”

“No.” She was right, he didn’t like that answer, not one bit.

“Yeah, I think his friends dared him to do it, honestly.” 

“That little shit.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“You could have done better.” That gets a full smile from her, her nose scrunching up at the same time something takes off in his chest. 

“I guess we both could have.”

“Yeah, Cher, I guess so.”

...................................................

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[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 21

word count: 966

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

May 17, 1989

Dear Will,

Today started out pretty rough, since one of my tires on my bike popped when I was halfway to your house. And given how quickly Hawkins has become a fucking sauna over the past few weeks (thanks, rural midwest), it was not a blast to push my bike the rest of the way on foot. Again, I could have taken my car to begin with, but I think in some way shape or form, we crave that element of our childhoods, riding bikes through the neighborhood like old times. Plus, Lucas and I are the only ones who have cars right now, so majority rules. Anyway, I still wound up at your house about half an hour early, and we spent that time trying to figure out how to patch up and refill my tire. No dice, unfortunately. But our hands brushed a few times, so it wasn’t too inconvenient.

Jonathan ended up coming into the garage at one point to grab a few tools (he’s been helping Hop out with some home projects, like a new shelving unit for your living room and a deck out back— but you already know that, why am I going on about this?) and suggested I just share your bike with you. You laughed so loudly that I thought I was gonna puke. I forced my anxiety back down and reminded Jon of how tall I am (last time I went to the doctor they said I was 6’3”– no, I’m not kidding), and he insisted that I, “just try and sit on the handlebars, or something.” I thought the idea was insane, but you seemed to be pretty entertained by it, so I shook my head with slight embarrassment before I motioned for you to mount the bike.

You swung your leg over the bar and rested your feet on either side, a huge grin on your face. “Do your worst, Wheeler,” you told me. I was so tempted to dramatically fling myself over the handlebars like a ragdoll, but then again, I didn’t feel like throwing out my back at the ripe age of eighteen. I turned so my back faced you, reached behind me to grip the handlebars, and hoisted myself up as best as I could, while you reached a hand out to hold my side and keep me steady. I must’ve looked like a fucking praying mantis or some shit, with my knees almost hitting my chin because of how I was balancing my toes on the front fender, but I didn’t care, because your reaction was fucking priceless. You were hysterically laughing, and I couldn’t help but begin to laugh as well.

Before I knew what was happening, Jonathan had disappeared and come back within record speed, and a bright flash hit my eyes as he clicked the button on his camera. I glanced back at you, and thankfully, you didn’t look fazed at all. In fact, you said to Jonathan, “please tell me I’ll get a copy of that,” while catching your breath from laughing so hard.

After that whole debacle, we actually tried riding the bike with me in front, but you couldn’t really see on account of the top of your head barely reaching my shoulders. So we eventually gave up on trying and just walked to Dustin’s to meet the rest of the Party, since his house isn’t too far away from yours, and Jon was still busy with his project and couldn’t drive us. Which I was totally fine with, because… duh, time alone with you is time well spent. We played D&D, and I kind of got a little too invested in your campaign. I think I just love seeing you so happy. I don’t think I could ever get tired of watching you in your element.

Once the session ended, Lucas gave us a ride home (I love how I just referred to your house as my home, I might’ve gotten a little emotional just now while writing it). We walked into your living room and saw Jonathan sitting on the couch with a bunch of photos spread out across the surface of the coffee table. Apparently, he’d gone and processed all of his films at Melvald’s while we were at Dustin’s; there were two copies of the photo he’d taken earlier.

He gave me one before asking if I wanted to stay for dinner. As much as I would’ve loved to, I actually did need to take care of Holly tonight, since our parents are in Ohio right now at some conference for my dad’s job. You offered to drive me back to my house, and I tried not to look too excited as I said yes.

Once we arrived in my driveway, I leaned over the center console and hugged you, telling you I had a great time with you today. You hugged me back (you hadn’t for the first few seconds and I nearly had a panic attack) and said you had a great time with me too. I went inside, holding the freshly printed photo of us in my hand.

So… I might have framed it. I know, it’s weird and frankly kind of stalker-y, but… deal with it. You’ll never actually know about this anyway. Not unless I leave the frame sitting in plain sight when you come into my room, or if I recklessly forget to hide these letters detailing where exactly my copy of the photo went, as well as the countless times I’ve talked about wanting to kiss you. For now, I’m keeping it under my pillow. 

Okay, I’m gonna stop writing now in order to stop myself from sounding like even more of a creep than I already am.

Love,

Mike

-

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[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty two

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

TW: mentions of disordered eating, weight loss, body image descriptions

october 1, 2018 san diego, california calum

I could barely sleep last night with the excitement of reuniting with Orion at the front of my mind. I get to hold her, touch her, kiss her, be with her… today. It’s finally here. The day that we’ve been pining for is finally here.

I wake up early so I can be ready when she gets here. We slept on the bus last night after we drove out here from Denver. It’s quiet when I wake up, unsurprisingly. I grab my duffel bag of clothes and toiletries and head into the venue to take a shower. There’s no show today, but we’re camped out here for now. I’m supposed to stay at Orion’s family’s house tonight, but the rest of the band and crew are at a hotel.

As I get to the door into the venue, Gus is already here. I swear, the man is always working. His shifts are 12 hours at a time. He’s tired as he greets me, but still cheery.

“Orion comes today, right?” He asks me with a knowing smile. He knows the answer. The question is practically rhetorical.

I smile back at him without a second thought. Of course I’m smiling — I get to see my girl today. “Yep, she’s gonna be here around 10!”

Gus nods and opens the door for me. “Only three and a half hours to go, then.”

We leave the conversation there and I enter the building, looking around for signage to direct me to the dressing room. I find it and head that way. It’s nice to be in the venue this early. No one else is awake, aside from a handful of stray security guys and a janitor that’s mopping the floor.

I take what Orion would call an everything shower. It consists of scrubbing my entire body with a container of sugar scrub I stole from her abundant stash, slathering my body in some body wash from LUSH that she got me hooked on, shaving everything, shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating my face… everything. I want to look, feel, and smell my best for her, even though I know she wouldn’t care if I smelled like cat piss and looked like a complete mess.

When I get out of the shower, I text her, since it’s roughly when she will wake up anyway.

To: my love + stars gooooood morning!!!!! ☀️ today is the DAY!!!! drive safe and let me know when you hit the road. can’t wait to see you my love.

Back on the bus, I try to get my bunk in order. I make the bed as well as I can and organize my stuff so it doesn’t look quite as chaotic.

“Cal? What time is it?” Ashton’s voice sounds from the bunk above mine.

“It’s a little after seven,” I answer, trying to whisper.

“Why are you up this early?” He whispers back.

“We’re in San Diego, dude.”

Ashton opens the curtain to his bunk then so he can look at me. “Shit, didn’t even realize. You excited?” He smiles, already knowing my answer. Another practically rhetorical question.

“Can’t fucking wait.”

—

I spend my morning with Ashton inside the venue, just aimlessly scrolling on my phone while he reads a book. We’ve both downed a cup or two of coffee and eaten a few of the snacks we have backstage. It’s just bananas and granola bars currently, which is fine by me. I’m not really hungry. The excitement is all consuming.

My phone is already unlocked, watching Orion’s blinking blue dot on the Find My Friends app get closer and closer to mine. She stopped at her family’s house on her way here to drop off Duke so we can spend the day together. As her dot gets onto the premises of the venue, she starts calling. I answer instantly.

“Hi,” I answer. Ashton looks over at me then and he starts to smile. I’m sure he’s missed her too.

“Hi, I’m pulling in now. Matt told them I’m coming, right?”

“Of course. You’re his favorite, remember?”

She giggles. “Okay, sure. I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Can’t wait.” And then I hang up.

I get off the couch, brushing crumbs from my granola bar off my lap. I turn to Ash.

“Gonna go meet her. We’ll be back in a minute.”

He nods, looking back down to his book.

I walk around the maze of the backstage area, following signs to the exit. More crew are walking around now, all nodding to me politely as we pass each other. I open the back door to the buses and am greeted by the bright sunshine and Gus’ replacement.

I look around, trying to spot Orion’s silver sedan. I spot it parked behind the buses, but don’t see her.

Then, there she is, walking toward me with a glowing smile on her face, wearing a baggy green hoodie, presumably some shorts that I can't see, and a beat-up pair of New Balances. I take a few jogging steps toward her, but she's running, so we meet after just a few seconds.

I wrap her into my arms as quickly as I can from the moment I see her, but the second she’s there, pressed into my chest, I can’t help but notice she’s… different. Orion has always been tiny. She’s 5 feet tall and has always been pretty thin, but she had some slight curves still. Now, she’s bony and frail. Normally, I don’t like to comment on her appearance unless it’s telling her how absolutely gorgeous she is, except this time. I can’t help it. All I can think is that she’s smaller. I want to comment about it, and I try to hold it in, but I don’t trust myself to be able to do so.

“Hi,” I breathe, my face buried in her hair. I didn’t even remember to take in how short it is now. Her frail frame is the only thing on my mind.

“Hi,” she says back. She’s squeezing me back as hard as she can. Her arms are bonier than normal, somewhat masked by the oversized hoodie, but they’re there.

My hands slide up the sides of the hoodie she's wearing — technically mine — to grip her waist and I can instantly tell just how differently her body is shaped now. She feels fragile, far smaller than she was before. It's so obvious. Has the time apart really been this hard on her? I know it's been bad, but not unhealthily losing 20 pounds bad. Have I just not paid enough attention on our Facetimes? Am I that oblivious?

What happened?

Before I know it, the question falls out. “Did you lose weight?” I can't help it. The words tumble from my mouth and my hands scan her rib cage, feeling how much the bones protrude from her skin. She feels like just skin and bones, but she was trying to hide it under my baggy sweatshirt. Orion steps back so she can look at me.

Now, I notice her face and that her cheekbones jutting out sharper than before. Her cheeks are hollow, her eyes sunken in. She looks sick. 

Has she been struggling so badly this whole time? Why wouldn't she tell me? Did I not look at her at all while I’ve been gone? I’ve seen her face, but I don’t know how I could have missed that it looks like this. My heart aches at the thought of her being too sad to eat, too depressed to move. Things have to have been hard on her if this is how she is now. It’s all my fault.

"Just a little," she mutters. Now she can't even look me in the eye. She's suddenly trying not to cry.

My hands can encircle her waist, completely. She's so much smaller than she was before and there's no way it's healthy for her to be so thin. "Orion, it doesn't feel like 'just a little.'"

Her eyes finally meet mine, holding so much more emotion than I can swim through. What're normally almost orange irises are dark and muddy. "It's fine, okay?"

Her voice is so meek and sad that it pains me to hear. I don't want to press it. We don't need to have a full conversation about her possible disordered eating or stress-starving herself outside of a venue in San Diego. But I can't just drop the fact that she feels like she's down to just her skeleton and organs.

Orion's eyes search mine like she's trying to find the right thing for her to say in the depths of my eyes. I didn't mean to make her cry. I just can't believe that she is so much less of herself than she was two months ago, and I feel like it's my fault for leaving. How can this have happened? Does she need help? I try to put a pin in all the questions I have, but they cloud my thoughts and it's hard to think about anything else. I want to be excited that we’re finally together again, but excited is nowhere near the top of the list of the emotions I’m feeling right now.

"Orion's here!"

"Oh my god, O!"

"Ah! Orion! Cal, why didn't you tell us she was here?!"

"We've missed you so much!"

Suddenly there's a mini stampede of my bandmates, their partners, and some of our crew, all encircling us. It's a mess of limbs and excitement, and I'm pushed back from my girlfriend unwillingly. Everyone else now gets to feel just how frail she is.

Orion is grinning now, a fake smile plastered on her face while giving everyone hugs back and saying how happy she is to see them. Before I know it, Luke is picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, carrying her inside. Everyone else follows. Orion giggles and tries to answer questions that everyone throws at her. They all are gone shortly, and I don't even realize that Ashton is still standing with me outside until he speaks.

"Alright, mate?" He asks, patting my back between my shoulders. When I lock eyes with him, he's sympathetic, as if he can tell something is wrong.

I don't know what's going on with Orion yet, so I don't want to start talking about it with Ashton. If it's an eating disorder, that's not something I can just share with him without her consent. As much as I want to describe what I just saw in my girlfriend and felt on her body, I can't tell him.

I clear my throat and plaster on a smile. "Yeah, just still in shock that she's here, I guess."

Ashton nods. “C’mon, let’s go save her.”

read next chapter

a/n: !!!!!!!!!!!! hi hope you liked this one!!!! drama is coming :) two cal pov's in a row who am i!!

[welcometohollyweird]

3, 5, 7, 9, 11 🖤

3. rant. just do it

Oh geez…I honestly don’t even know where to start with this one. This entire week has been a shit show tbh. Work’s been insane, I’ve been sleeping like shit every night and today I felt drugged up bc of the lack of sleep the entire day. Lmao. Not to mention my living situation kinda sucks ass & I really have no choice but to stay in it and it’s been an ongoing issue for years on end. Not to get *tooo* deep and personal but it’s a triggering environment & has been making a lot of the things I’m dealing with a lot harder (eating disorder/body dysmorphia/trauma symptoms/etc) but it is what it is I guess lolol.

I don’t know what else to rant about. Oh maybe besides how Fuckin’ annoying it is to work in a really rich area where half of the customers I see are entitled assholes. If a store has their hours on the door then you should NOT try to get inside when it’s AFTER HOURS. This happens literally every single day there but Saturdays are the absolute worst bc I get out earlier AND I’m there alone the whole day AND I HAVE to get out on time or else I’ll miss my bus home cause I don’t drive (that’s a whoooole other story but I’m 26 & scared to lmao). Anyway. I’ll stop there. Thanks for listening 🤣

5. how many accounts do you have?

We’re talking about tumble specifically right? Lmao. I hope so cause that’s how I’m gonna answer this….

Just this one! I *did* have another tumblr account but I got shadow-banned for no reason so I ended up creating this new one. I’m pretty sure the old account is still up but it’s useless since it’s hidden from everyone! I still don’t know what I did wrong for tumblr to force it into icognito mode! 🤷‍♀️

7. opinion on…

So I’m not sure what you want my opinion on for this one but I’d love to give an opinion on something!! If you wanna send me an ask with the specification feel free to do that & I’ll totally answer it! ✨

9. favorite brand of clothing

Hmmm…this is a hard question. I typically don’t really pay attention to what brands I buy ‘cause I shop at Tj Maxx and Marshall’s a lot where they have toooooons of good brands so I’m not really sure… I kinda just go with whatever feels comfortable (which is not easy lol. I actually despise clothes shopping which I know is kinda weird but it’s just…I don’t know…not a fun time for me 😅 )

11. what unusual talent do you have?

Uhhh… as far as I know…none?? 🤠 For real though, I can’t really think of anything “unusual” per-se… I wish I could. It would be cool.

Thanks for the ask babe!! 😘🤩

ASK ME THINGS!!

[missywritesfor7]

🌺 Promise Flower | PJM 🌺

Synopsis: Jimin is a popular dance student and the best one at his university. Mina is a photography student and has known Jimin since high school. An idea for a photo project finds Mina getting closer to him than she ever has before. She learns how big his heart is, but also learns how closely he guards it. Every time she thinks he'll let her in, he pulls away again. Is it even worth the trouble?

Pairing: college student!Jimin x fem!oc

Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, alcoholism

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

|| Ch. 19: Sweat ||

It’s nearly 4 am when I make it back to my apartment. The drive was a bit of a challenge, but I could feel the weight on my shoulders getting lighter and lighter the further I got.

Jimin called me shortly after I left wanting to stay on the phone with me until I made it back safely. He kept me company for a short while until he was no longer able to stay awake. About half of my drive was spent listening to the sound of him lightly snoring through the phone. When I got home I whispered a soft goodnight to him and hung up.

Now I can finally rest.

Hours later I wake up around 10 am feeling well rested. I haven’t had a restful sleep since the first night I was back home. Every night since then had been restless and stressful.

When I check my phone I have a number of messages from my parents. They tell me they’re sorry about everything and they don’t blame me for leaving. They understand and just want to make sure I made it back safe. I’m glad they aren’t upset with me, but they know exactly how hard it is being around Ryan.

I also have a message from Jimin asking if I made it home safe. I assure him I did and tell him how his snores got me through the rest of my trip. He says he wishes he could come be with me, but his parents wanted him to stay at least until New Years. I would rather he spend the time with them anyway, we see each other all of the time and I don’t want him cutting time with his family short because of me.

I take this time alone to simply relax. I had been so caught up in the shit at home that I never checked my grades for the semester.

Thankfully I passed with A’s and B’s and got an A- on my photo project. I know I could have done much better but I guess it’s still good considering the fact that I had had to change the angle midway through. Not to mention I spent a large part of the semester hanging out with Jimin but not taking photos like I should have been. I’ll take that A- as a definite win.

My time started off relieving, enjoying my own company and not having to worry about anything. Now after a few days I’m starting to go stir crazy. No one is in town so I have no one to hang out with. I talk to Jimin all the time and I had an hours long phone call with Tae telling him how my entire trip went. But I’m still starting to feel pretty bored.

I learn there’s a photo exhibit showcasing various photographers going on the day before New Year’s Eve. I decide at the last minute that I’d go just to give myself something to do.

It turns out to be a great idea. I feel good getting out and doing something, and even better when I begin mingling with the other people in attendance. I meet a range of people from photography enthusiasts, collectors, and other photographers. It turns out to be a great night of networking for me. I’m getting closer to graduating and these connections could help tremendously.

When I get home I talk to Jimin as I do every night and tell him about my day and he does the same. Each day ends with us talking ourselves to sleep then waking in the morning and texting about how we once again couldn’t survive the night.

New Year’s Eve is a bit different. I was hoping I’d be with him to ring in the new year but he won’t be back until after that. His family has something planned so I don’t hear from him quite as often throughout the day as I typically would.

As the day goes on I notice everything around me getting foggy more and more. I don’t think much about it until I also notice myself feeling a bit weak. I can tell I’m getting sick and I can only hope it’s just a cold. I take some medicine in hopes that it will pass, but after a few hours nothing seems to be getting better.

As a matter of fact I feel like I’m getting worse rather quickly. Unfortunately I know this feeling and I’m not to thrilled about it. After checking my temperature, my 102° fever confirms my suspicions that I likely have the flu. Happy New Year’s Eve to me, I guess.

Thankfully Jin always keeps us stocked up with all kinds of medicines. It takes all of the energy I have to go into the kitchen and find some that can bring my fever down. I also grab a bottle of water and shuffle myself back to my bed. My entire body feels terrible. My throat is on fire, I’m burning up, and every breath comes with a cough of some sort. I’m absolutely miserable.

I message Jimin a few sad emojis letting him know I have the flu and I feel like garbage. Instead of texting me back he almost immediately calls me, which honestly defeats the purpose of me texting him. I can barely get a sound out past my sore throat, but it doesn’t matter because Jimin does most of the talking.

“Are you ok? Did you catch it when you went out yesterday? Do you need me to send you anything? Make sure you drink plenty of water. Keep taking your medicine. Get lots of rest. If you need anything let me know and I’ll make sure you get it. You need to eat something too. Get some soup, do you have any?”

“Jiminie, babe,” I say hoarsely. “It’s ok.”

“Are you sure? Because you sound terrible.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle before getting hit with a fit of coughing. “I’m sure it’ll pass in a few days. I’ll just be here in bed.”

“Good,” he says with authority. “Don’t go anywhere and don’t do anything. If you need something let me know, ok?”

“I promise.”

I can’t help but smile. I feel like I’m dying, but his concern for me is sweet. He lets me off the phone to rest and I do just that. It doesn’t take very long before the medicine I took takes me out.

I wake a few times to shuffle around feeling either too hot or too cold. I don’t bother looking at my phone, only wanting to sleep my misery away, so I have no idea what time it is. I only have a timer set to tell me when to take more medicine. I do that and go right back to sleep.

I wake up in another sweaty heap to the sound of knocking at my door. I wait a bit not having the strength to get up hoping whoever it is goes away. I assume maybe Jimin had something delivered to me, hopefully they take the hint and leave it at the door.

It takes about 15 minutes before I realize whoever it is won’t be leaving any time soon so I force myself out of bed to get the door. To my surprise I open the door to see Jimin’s concerned face as he’s standing there with his hands full of bags.

“What…?” Is all I can manage to squeak out.

He drops the bags by the door and swiftly picks me up and takes me back to my bed.

“I’m here to take care of you,” he smiles.

He steps out of the room and I hear him shuffling bags followed by the sound of pots clanging in the kitchen. I look at my phone to realize that I’ve pretty much slept over half a day. It’s 9 am on New Year’s Day and I have missed calls and messages from Jimin throughout the night telling me he was coming over. I can see why he looked so worried when I opened the door.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Jimin asks returning to my room with a warm cup of tea.

“Umm…” I actually haven’t eaten anything at all. I’ve been sleeping this entire time.

“Mina,” he says shaking his head. “This is exactly why I got here as fast as I could.” He smiles handing me the tea.

“How did you get here?” I ask after taking a sip.

“I drove,” he beams.

“You took your dad’s car?”

“No.” He smiles even bigger. “I drove my own car.”

“Your own?”

“Yup! I tried to call to tell you.” He looks so excited. “My parents wanted me to stay until New Years because they wanted to give me the car. My dad bought it from a friend and fixed it up so it would run. They wanted to give it to me for New Years so I would have something positive to start the year with. It’s nothing fancy, but it means a lot to me that they went through the trouble.” His contagious smile stretches across the entire room and his eyes are closed completely. I know he’s hated depending on others for a ride so I can tell how elated he is to finally have his own car.

“That’s great,” I say trying to force my enthusiasm past my sore throat. “Now you can drive me around everywhere.” I give him a teasing smile and take another sip of tea.

“I’ll take you wherever you want, baby.” He kisses my forehead and I swear every pain in my body just melted away.

It’s not just that he’s incredibly sweet, and the most caring and attentive person, but this is the first time he’s called me “baby”. Something about hearing it come out of his mouth strips me of all feeling and sends me floating on a cloud.

How can he make even the smallest things send me on a deep trip through bliss? Am I just easily impressed because I’ve never dated anyone like him? Could it be because we’re still early in our relationship so everything he does is endearing? Is this normal? I take another sip of tea hoping it’s holds the magical power of silencing my fever brain.

“Also,” Jimin says. “Your mom had me bring you some soup. I put it on the stove so it should be ready soon.”

“Really?” I ask delighted. “You went over there?”

“Yeah, right before I left to come out here. She sent me with soup and medicine.”

“Was Ryan there?” I have to ask. I can’t think the two of them seeing each other would have been a civil meeting.

“I guess that was the kind gentleman who yelled ‘what the fuck!’ from the top of the stairs as I was about to leave?”

“Oh god I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, he didn’t bother me,” he smiles. “Let me check on the soup.” He steps out of the room and I finish off the last of my tea.

He returns a short moment later with a bowl and some medicine and sets both on my nightstand next to me. He takes my empty tea cup and leaves the room again, returning a short moment later.

“Eat up,” he says softly. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No,” I cough out. “I just want you to stay here…but I also don’t want you to get sick.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

He’s always a man of his word and he stays right by my side just as he said he would. He feeds me, keeps track of when I need to take my medicine, and keeps a cool towel nearby to wipe my sweat. I’m so lucky to have him looking after me.

I’m only awake for a few hours at a time before I fall asleep for a few more hours. Each time I wake up Jimin has something different prepared for me. First it was another cup of tea. Later, my next dose of medicine and some orange juice. He’s very adamant that I get all of the vitamin c I can. In the evening he has another batch of soup ready for me and a couple of tangerines.

He stays with me through the night, waking up whenever I wake up and asking if I need anything. When I need another dose of medicine at 3 am he goes out to the 24 hour pharmacy to get me more when we realize I’m all out. He also brings me a jar of vapor rub to help my cough. He sings me songs and gently wraps his arms around me until I drift back to sleep.

By the time I wake up again in the afternoon I can tell I’m feeling a little better. I still have a low fever and my body aches, but it’s not as bad as it was. Jimin suggests I soak in the tub with some salt and oils to ease my aches. Actually he didn’t suggest it more so he told me that’s what I was going to do as he ran the water.

When the bath is ready he helps me out of bed and into the bathroom. He pauses a moment looking a bit nervous and a little confused.

“I can wait for you,” he starts slowly. “Out there…so you can relax. I’ll get lunch ready for you.” He nods and scurries out of the bathroom like a nervous toddler.

I can tell he’s nervous about seeing me fully naked. He’s only ever seen me in my bra, but that’s it. I find myself chuckling at how cute he was trying to leave the bathroom before I started to undress. I have no problem with him seeing me naked, he is my boyfriend after all.

Once I disrobe and sink into the warm water I close my eyes and try to allow my body to fully relax. I can feel the vapor from the water working it’s way to my lungs making it a little easier for me to breathe without breaking out into a coughing fit.

I remain in the tub for a while before I start to think that I’ve soaked long enough. I no longer hear Jimin shuffling around in the kitchen so I assume he’s probably done with lunch. Since I’ve been feeling awful these few days I decide to have a little fun with him.

“Jiminie,” I plead from the bathtub. “Are you still making lunch?”

“No, it’s ready,” he responds from the living room.

“Can you help me out of the tub?” I ask with a cheeky smirk that I know he can’t see.

“You need help? Getting out of the tub?” He asks hesitantly.

“Yeah,” I pout. He’ll either find a way to make me get myself out of the tub, or he’ll come in here like a ball of nerves like he was when he stepped out.

“Oh….umm…ok…yeah, I’ll help you.”

There’s a pause. A bit of a long one before he slowly enters the bathroom. He pulls a towel off the rack and slowly moves closer avoiding any and all eye contact.

“Are you ok?” I ask.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He responds still avoiding my gaze.

“Can you help me up?”

“Right.” He reaches his hand out but barely looks at me as I grab it and pull myself up out of the water.

I stand there a moment waiting for him to look at me, and when he does his entire face turns bright red. I chuckle a little at how cute and innocent he seems in this moment. He has no idea how to react and after realizing he’d been looking at me for a bit he quickly drapes the towel around me and helps me step out.

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask with a smile.

“Nervous? Why do you think I’m nervous?” He answers quickly.

“Babe, you’re as red as a tomato right now,” I chuckle. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You’re not nervous about seeing me naked?”

“No, of course not.” He’s such a liar but so cute.

“Ok then,” I smirk letting the towel drop to the floor. “Let me get dressed.”

The redness in his face intensifies and he tries to hide it by reaching behind me to drain the tub. I chuckle a little then step out of the bathroom and throw on a pair of panties. I don’t put anything else on and simply throw myself across the bed and wait for him to come out of the bathroom.

“Do you need help getting dressed?” He asks stepping towards me.

“No,” I say sitting up still having too much fun with him. “I don’t want to get dressed.”

“Mina,” he chuckles shyly. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to admit that you’re nervous seeing me like this.”

“I’m not nervous,” he says sitting next to me. “I’m just…I don’t know. In awe?”

“In awe? Why?”

“Because you’re…beautiful. I mean you’re always beautiful, but…I don’t know. Seeing you. All of you. It’s more than I ever imagined.” He pauses looking me over again no longer hiding his beet red face. “I just feel really lucky.”

“Really?” I’m a little taken aback by his words. I was having some fun with him but I wasn’t expecting him to say all of that. I’m flattered and I can tell my face is starting to turn as red as his. “Are you just saying that?”

“No, I really mean it.” He wraps his arm around my waist. “Every part of you is gorgeous.” He gently kisses my shoulder sending chills through my entire body.

“Is this a competition to see who can make the other blush more?”

“You started it,” he laughs. “Are you really going to wear only your panties?”

“Maybe,” I tease. “You just said I was gorgeous, why should I put anything else on?”

“Because,” he says gently kissing my shoulder again. “You’re still sick, but if you stay like this it would make it really hard for me to let you rest.”

He’s right. Absolutely right. If I weren’t sick I probably would have jumped all over him before making it to the bed.

“Sorry,” I whisper while internally cursing whatever planets aligned that caused me to be sick in this moment. “I guess I’ll put something on so I won’t be such a distraction to you.”

“Good,” he says planting one more kiss on my skin. “Come on before your food gets cold.”

“I wanna wear this,” I say tugging at his shirt.

“Haven’t you already stolen enough of my clothes?” He laughs allowing me to pull his shirt over his head.

“I only have one shirt and two hoodies. That’s not nearly enough.” I throw his shirt on and give him a big smile.

“If you say so,” he smiles.

He grabs my hand and ushers me to the couch while he makes me a bowl of soup. There’s really no need for him to usher me around. I’m still a bit weak but I can get around fine, at least enough to make it to the couch.

I’ve learned that when Jimin is the caretaker he will do any and everything. If I try doing something on my own he’ll be right there ready to send me back to bed. He’s protective but so soft and gentle with me.

He returns to the couch with two bowls and we begin eating and watching tv. I suggested we start a new drama, but with the way I’ve been sleeping he’s not convinced that I’d stay awake long enough.

He was right. After finishing my food it’s not long before I lay my head across his lap and fall asleep to the feeling of him running his fingers through my hair.

[cartoonyappreciation]

On Growing Up:

I’ve recently graduated from college and for the first time I’m moving out of state. In a couple weeks I’ll be moving the furthest away from all my friends, siblings and parents. I’ve packed everything in boxes, gathered them all into the garage, in preparation for the Uhaul we’re renting to start this new chapter of my life.

For the past five years, I’ve prided myself on being independent, getting shit done and making every choice to put myself in the best position I can to succeed. For most of my undergrad career, I figured I would go into industry like the rest of my peers, make money as soon as possible and get on with my life. Then just over a year and a half ago, I decided to go to grad school instead.

I think it’s actually a pretty common fear for people who go to medical school and graduate school; the fear of life passing you by. Your friends settling down, having families, going on vacations, while you spend another half a decade prolonging finding your actual job. And while most of us (I assume) know that we’re doing this for a better future, having that longterm mindset can be really difficult.

I guess I don’t really know how many people actually have that fear. Maybe people who achieved a better school/work-life balance don’t feel that way. While I was doing my best to enjoy undergrad, I think I still had this underlying mindset that it was just an intermission, a countdown until the time I could get on with my life. A main factor I kept in mind while choosing which grad school to go to was that I couldn’t think like that anymore. If I’m going to spend all my 20s in college, I can’t spend it miserably. If I ended up going to a school that made me hate my future then what would be the point?

Anyway, this isn’t the reason I started making this post 😅. I actually wanted to talk about the now, this transition to what is essentially a full time job away from my family. No longer can I drive two hours just to visit my parents for the weekend. This new chapter almost feels like the end of my childhood, even though I guess there are lots of phases of childhood. It’s made me feel extra emotional lately. I feel like I’m mourning, as dramatic as that may sound.

My mom is pretty sick right now. As I walked into the kitchen to grab some water, I could hear her coughing and it sparked this memory I had from when I was much younger when I was sick. My throat really hurt and I felt terrible so I was walking downstairs. Turned out, my dad was still awake and watching something on TV while he was folding laundry or something. We both sat there eating popsicles and watching whatever was on the TV until I was ready to go back to sleep. For some reason, upon recalling this memory, tears started pouring down my cheeks. There I was, the kitchen illuminated only by the light of my refrigerator, as I stood there silently crying. While I feel pretty stupid and I can’t be completely sure why that set me off, I’m guessing I kinda miss these simpler times. My dad’s still alive, it’s not like I can’t sit on the couch and eat a popsicle with him now. Ugh, I feel like the girl from Inside Out, when all the yellow core memories turn blue. Sad that another chapter is complete, too uncertain of what the future holds to be truly excited about it. And I know I’ll be fine; I literally chose this for myself. But I also know that nothing stays the same and it’s okay to mourn the changes in your life while still looking forward to the future.

So here’s to growing up. It might be scary, but it’s all gonna turn out okay.

[mycharacterdump]

My Eleven and a Half Days At Priory Hospital North London

16 May, 2021

I don’t reckon I’ll be any good at this, but my counselor here says it’ll help me. I was stuck in intake for six hours, strapped to a hospital bed and poked and prodded and all that uncomfortable shit. I asked if they wanted a bone marrow donation as well, and that I had plenty below the belt. The nurse didn’t find it very funny. I thought it was hilarious. Thankfully, my psychiatrist and counselors think I’m a real riot, but they also say my humor is a crutch. Dunno about that. It’s not like I’m always making dick jokes. It is kind of hard not to when they just about molest you in order for you to be cleared here. 

Anyway, I don’t know what else to write. My brain is foggy from the drugs they have me on. The sedatives haven’t worn off yet. I’ll get back to it in the morning.

Micah.

17 May, 2021

I had my first group therapy today. Listening to kids who haven’t even made it to college yet talk about slitting their wrists and microdosing Adderall is pretty fucking bleak. Some of them brought the composition notebooks we’re given at the beginning of our stay and read out of them. It made me realize I don’t really say much in mine. I’m a musician, not a writer. But I should give it a try. I will tomorrow. The medication I was put on when I got here is finally starting to wear off. I almost feel like I belong in my own skin again.

Micah.

18 May, 2021

Priory Hospital North London is the best of the best. I get an en-suite bedroom with my own bathroom and television and everything. I’ve been assured that there is no better place my parents could’ve sent me — aside from home, I told the nurse, who again wasn’t impressed. I don’t know why I’m kind of vying for the validation of people I normally couldn’t give less of a fuck about. I guess I’ll unpack that with my counselor in half an hour. Until then, I was given direction to write about what I remember before coming here. How I felt and the like. I can give that a try. I have to actually remember it first.

Tomorrow.

Micah.

19 May, 2021

On 15 May, my older sister Tallulah was called to hospital as she was the first person in my contacts list. I don’t remember how I got there. All I remember is the feeling of my heart in my throat and my blood pooling in my head and the ache of my bones underneath the cracked skin. I guess I got into a fight? I felt a sharp pain in my ribs for a few hours but the doctors said nothing was fractured or broken. It wouldn’t be my first time getting myself into trouble like that, but it must have been the worst since I woke up in a hospital room instead of my bed. All I can remember from before that is driving myself to band practice in my Mum’s car since I’ve never been trusted to own one. I barely got my driver’s license. I used to get angry at the idea that someone I never met could deduce whether or not I was entitled to a basic freedom, but I guess I understand now. I’m a lot different than other kids my age. Even the ones here, who are all fucked up with fucked up stories I can’t stomach. Half the shit they talk about has to be a joke. If it’s not, then I must be seriously demented. I think I am, because that’s all I can remember about that day. The persistent hurt that spread throughout my whole body until I was just one fast beating pulse. 

Now that I think about it, that wasn’t the first time I felt that way. Like I was made of livewire. I think it was just the first time I recognized it for what it was. 

Micah

20 May, 2021

I earned myself a day pass! Very proud of myself. I used it to go to the cinema. I don’t remember when I last went and sat down and watched a movie. Must have been at least a year, I’ve been so caught up with the band and schoolwork. I bought popcorn and chocolate and a large Dr. Pepper and watched Licorice Pizza, since it was the only appealing film at the box office. I thought it was funny. I don’t know how long it’s been since I laughed. It almost hurt. I showed off my ticket stubs in group today and made a fourth year red in the face because I know how to keep my cool and he throws tantrums whenever they run out of the green flavor of jello in the cafeteria. I thought he’d start foaming at the mouth. When I told this to my counselor, she said, “We can’t dehumanize our peers, Micah.” I almost said:

“Does it count if they weren’t human in the first place?”

But I didn’t. I should get another day pass based on self-control alone. That isn’t how it works, though. Figures. 

Micah

21 May, 2021

Tomorrow is my 18th birthday. Mum and Dad already called to say they would be here, but Tal is stuck in New York. I think the whole thing that happened with me traumatized her. I feel guilty about it, even though I don’t remember. My counselor says it’s a good thing. Feeling like shit is good? I guess it proves I’m not a sociopath like everyone else seems to think. I promise I’m not. Sometimes I think I feel too much, like so much it actually hurts. I’ve been forced to experience life with the volume maxed. It’s why I can’t trust anyone, family included. Everything is always so loud and everyone is always shouting at me to snap out of it. Why can’t they see what I see? Or feel what I feel? It’d make everything so much fucking easier.

I guess I know what I’m wishing for tomorrow.

Micah

22 May, 2021

I’m 18. I didn’t think I would make it this far, to be honest with you. I and all my family figured I would have offed myself at this point. But I didn’t. I am still stuck in Priory, though. I didn’t have a terrible day. My mum and dad came to visit like they said they would, so I guess I was wrong for staying up all night thinking they wouldn’t and it was all just a sick prank. They brought me my favorite jumper to wear, it’s black with a red star knitted on the front. Jae got it for me for Christmas this past year. I wore it to sleep almost every night before my accident. They also got me a vanilla milkshake from a nearby shop that I could drink while we hung out in the fields behind the building. 

“Just four more days,” Mum said, a kind of tired smile on her lips. I reached out and kissed her cheek, which was unlike me, because normally I’m not a very touchy person unless I’m super happy or sad. No in between. 

The last thing I got was a Walkman. I’ve been asking for one for months because I’d grown out of my vinyl collecting phase. I wanted to walk around all my favorite parts of London with headphones on and listen to the crackling of static from a cassette instead of just dancing around my room. I value both very much still, but I’m excited to have my own cassette player and Straight Outta Compton as my first tape. I’m listening to it now. 

Oh, one more thing: I got to text Jae. My parents brought me my phone and I was immediately confronted with a bunch of texts I never replied to, but the only person I could think of that was most deserving of a response was him. I only said, “I’m okay,” but I’ll give him a better explanation once I’m home.

But all of that isn’t why I’m writing now. I’m writing now because my mum told me the reason why I’m writing at all. I was afraid to know the truth, to be honest, but it was now or never. I was sipping on my milkshake while dad tried explaining to me the mechanics of my old but new Walkman while mum kept herself together as best she could.

I left the house at 6 A.M. It was rainy out. I had worn my band practice clothes overnight, which was what I was found in hours later: a cropped t-shirt (Ramones, because fuck the Sex Pistols), ripped skinny jeans with a studded belt, and my Doc Martens, none of which escaped the situation unscathed. I was walking around Camden in North London looking like someone dredged a raccoon in a vat of eyeliner and left it out to try on a clothespin. When I was found belly-up in the Moselle the police fished me out of the river and thankfully didn’t plant their greasy pig lips on mine because they realized I had not yet drowned, they did find traces of a white substance under my nose, and when I was brought to hospital they ran a thousand tests while I was incapacitated which deduced I had been high as fuck on, you guessed it, cocaine.

Another thing I couldn’t remember was supposedly getting into a fight with someone during my journey from my house to the river Moselle. My lip was split open and I had a gnarly black eye for a while. I’ve been told it could’ve been a lot worse. I guess they’re right. I could be dead. 

But I’m not. I lived to see 18. Now I just have to see if I can make it to 27.

3,287 days to go.

Yes, I did the maths. I’m good at more than just drumming.

Micah

23 May, 2021

Some girl on my floor killed herself this morning. Her name was Eve, at least, that’s what we all called her. Whenever her mum would visit and refuse to call her anything except for Beula. I only learned after they unfastened the sheets she made into a noose that she had this grand delusion she was a reincarnation of the Eve from Genesis in the Bible. I should’ve seen it sooner, considering all she drew in the rec room were depictions of rainforests and unicorns that vomited candy; she also gave herself a sharpie tattoo of a snake that took up half of her arm. She thought I was taking the piss when I showed her my half-sleeve of crows I got at 16 and tried rubbing them off with all her brute strength. I nearly pinned her to the floor before a nurse intercepted. Six hours later she was dead.

I wish I could have said sorry. I feel like no one says it enough nowadays. They’re too concerned with I love you and I miss yous to think about the third forgotten sister: I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I fucked up, that I did all that coke and forgot about it, I’m sorry I made you find me there, Tal, all pale and violently ill, I’m sorry I disappointed all of you, I know I was supposed to make right the wrongs of my predecessors and all that shit parents expect from you, and even though I’m a little bit sour about it I’m still sorry.

All of that to say we’ve been on lockdown since then. If it wasn’t selfish enough she killed herself, she let her parents foot the bill of not only her treatment at a highly prestigious institution, but also her funeral. I can’t say that out loud, though. I won’t even read this part to my counselor — who, thank the God that made Eve and all her psychotic daughters, firmly values privacy. (Unless I act too skittish. I never said the values were unconditional.)

Three more days and then I’m free. 

Micah

24 May, 2021

There was a candlelight vigil held for Eve tonight after dinner. It kind of reminded me of a cult ritual, because I couldn’t recognize any of the church songs they were singing. I assume they were church songs, anyway. I think she would have liked that. People worshiping her and all. Clearly she didn’t get enough of that in life. Everyone in group read an excerpt from their notebooks except for me. I normally give them a taste of my brilliantly phrased word vomit, but I didn’t feel like I had enough good things to say, so I kept it to myself and only read some of what I’d written to my counselor so she knows I’ve been keeping up with what I promised I would.

Since I’m nearing the end of my stay, I’m receiving a lot of cards and gifts from other in patients. It’s made me realize I’ve never written about any of them aside from Eve, and even that took her dying for me to think to include in this notebook. Maybe because I know I won’t read this once I’m gone, so why immortalize them? I have fantasized about burning this fucking notebook since the day it was handed to me. But I’ll give it a try now, in case I feel differently by the time I leave.

Eve’s best friend was a micro internet celebrity named Amythest who had an impressive TikTok following and also had a self-diagnosed dissociative disorder. Everyone called her Amy before despite her insisting she was a we and they had a ‘system name’. Can’t remember it now, it was something cringe and stupid, but as of yesterday we’ve all been calling her by whatever she wants. I heard someone refer to her as Bakugou at lunch.

“Isn’t that an anime villain?” I spoke up. I’d never spoken to Amythest before.

Her brown eyes cut into mine suddenly, and I felt taken aback. I could tell she felt a little out of place not wearing cat ears and colored contacts. “My source material doesn’t define me.” she defended. I didn’t argue. I didn’t know how.

Next there’s Amythest’s secret partner, Sock, a nonbinary artist who was actually good at what they did. I am much more familiar with Sock’s realm within the queer universe than I am Amythest’s, admittedly. Half the kids I go to school with don’t confine to gender norms and sometimes I don’t either. Sock is mostly nice and for someone dating over three hundred alters manages each one with a grace I’ll never have. 

Sock’s roommate Emily Yang, who deserves her full name being said, is the prettiest girl at Priory. She’s half-Korean with nice sunkissed skin and blue, blue eyes, has her hair dyed half blonde, wears all-black no matter the occasion since her stay was planned and not as emergent as mine and she actually had a bag assembled, has had a fancy bipolar diagnosis since she was 14, and because of all that she and I are who get along the best. We both have a deep appreciation for American west coast rap and have spent countless nights staying up past curfew to smoke contraband cigarettes in the fields and listen to my one cassette tape.

My counselor thinks I’m in love with her. I only have four words to answer that question:

I AM A FAGGOT!

Anyway, Emily went to the vigil while I lingered behind. When she got back she told me I didn’t miss much, only Amythest sobbing so hard she ‘switched’ into her protective alter named Mysterion, and when I said, “Isn’t that from South Park?” Emily and I stared at one another before we started laughing. I think Eve would laugh too. We’re all kind of fucking ridiculous in the end.

Micah

25 May, 2021

I had my final group discussion, final rec room argument with Amythest and two of her alters, final breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the dining hall, and was excused to my room early since I have a big day tomorrow. All my things have been packed for me — Emily insisted. She’s the best. I’m now sitting at my desk eating a bread and butter pudding I stole from the cafeteria and snuck in, watching the sunset on my last full day at Priory Hospital North London. 

I’ll be honest, I don’t entirely know what I got out of this experience minus some trauma and a new friend. I feel calmer now thanks to the new drug cocktail they have me on, which I’ve been forced into taking everyday as per my schedule that they’ve INSISTED I maintain while I’m away. Like I’ll be coming back soon. I guess people expect less of me than I already assumed. 

Emily told me it’s my chance to prove them wrong. So I’m going to do that.

Micah

26 May, 2021

I’m giving this notebook to Emily so she can carry on my legacy. She needs it more, anyway. She doesn’t know when she’s going home. I hope it’s soon. It’s forbidden for us to keep in contact after we leave, as we might feed off of one another’s bad habits etc., etc., but I wrote my Insta in morse code at the back of this notebook for her to try and figure out. Only thing that huge library we have did for me, give me infinite knowledge of absolutely nothing applicable to real life. Until this moment.

For now, I’m going home, and I am never doing drugs again. Minus pot. I’ll even buy one of those D.A.R.E. shirts. That’s how serious I am.

So long and goodnight.

Micah

[hardworlders]

Mandala Volume I Hardworlder | Book 1 - The Office Job Chapter 3: The Target

Is there a price on my head, or am I just hungover?

Paul had a rough night and some strange dreams. He had stayed out clubbing till three in the morning and according to his account, had spent four thousand dollars at bars, strip clubs, and ATMs. There was no one else in his bed, but he had dreamed of two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He didn’t think he could have made them up. He wasn’t that creative.

What he was, at least, was rich. He traveled all over the country helping criminals hide their money, which lately meant a lot of crypto wallets and trying to explain the difference between Bitcoin and Monero to people who knew how to manage criminal networks like magic but had never passed a math class. Some trips were covered by his day job, supervising the west coast accounts unit at a large insurance company. He paid his manager three grand a month to fudge the productivity reports and generally make him invisible to management. He laundered his money in the usual ways and had recently made a fortune trading options in an insane bull market. Life was good.

One of his favorite things about his life was staying up all night, which also meant sleeping in. Most days, this wasn’t a problem. He would get up around one, make it to the office after three (already clocked in since eight). However, it was only nine o’ clock and he was wide awake. His phone was ringing for the second time, buried in his clothes on the floor halfway across the room and he kicked two bottles getting to it.

“Hello, Paul?”

He nearly threw it into the wall. It was his therapist. He had weekly sessions about a suicide attempt he only half-remembered. According to the police report, he had tried to drive his car off a bridge and only managed to get it stuck on a curb. He usually got really fucked up before he went, but had just skipped the last two. He figured that since he didn’t remember them anyway, there wouldn’t be any harm in not going at all. His therapist disagreed.

“Paul, I have you down for nine-thirty today. Do you remember when we agreed on that time? You rescheduled twice before, and you assured me this time would work for you. I tried to call you three times last night.”

So that’s who was blowing up his phone in the champagne room.

“I’m not going to be able to make it. I got to go to work.”

“I thought you didn’t go in until the afternoon. Isn’t that the arrangement?”

Paul pulled the phone away from his face and gawked at it. How much had he told this dude?

“Uh, no, what? I just can't make it. Look, I'm doing better, I just—”

“Paul, the court mandated that you attend our sessions. If you don’t show up today, I'll have to report it.”

Shit. He could probably pay him off. But why hadn't he done that before? Had he tried? He couldn’t remember.

“All right, fine. Can you give me a couple of hours? I just got up.”

“I will see you at ten. I’ll have breakfast brought to my office, so don’t worry about eating beforehand. Please expect to stay until eleven. Goodbye.”

He hung up! Paul considered having him dissolved in a barrel somewhere, but something told him he had to go to this session or the heat was going to come down on him hard. He decided just to pop something and head out, but found the condo completely drug-free, nothing but thin amber slivers left in the bottles.

He passed out in the back of the Uber on the way and dreamed of a room with no doors. When he screamed, his voice echoed back as a laugh.

His therapist’s office was halfway up a black glass tower downtown, in a hooked hallway between a hedge fund and a fintech startup. The breakfast spread came from a five-star kitchen at the top and almost made it all worth it. He gave his therapist, Andler, a censored summary of his last few weeks while he finished two plates. Afterward, Andler asked him something he asked every session, or at least the ones Paul remembered. It had never seemed weird before. It did today.

“Any strange dreams lately?”

“No.”

“None?”

“I never dream.”

“Everyone dreams, Paul. Every night. You just might not remember them.” The office was small and minimally furnished, but what was there screamed money. Andler was sitting in a love seat across the coffee table. Paul was sunk into a big leather couch he always struggled not to fall asleep in during their sessions, sipping orange juice and praying for vodka.

“Then I don’t remember them.”

“Paul, you’re sober today for once, which I appreciate, but you usually don’t have any problems talking about your dreams. That tells me you want to, but you think you need the drugs to get up the courage to do so.”

Paul didn’t remember ever telling him about his dreams. Looking back, he could remember being asked, but had no idea what he had said.

“So, you analyze dreams? I thought that was outdated.”

“I don’t analyze them in the Freudian sense, no. However, they can be useful for you to talk about.”

“Like, what I say I feel about my dreams is more important than what you think they symbolize?”

“You could say that.”

Paul ate more of the scones and drank some coffee. He watched the river glitter behind the downtown skyline out the massive floor-to-ceiling window and wondered if any patients ever tried to throw themselves out of it.

“Paul, you really can't recall any of your dreams? You told me last month you would try to remember as many as you could.”

Andler moved his papers around in his folder. Paul hated it. Despite his efforts, there was more of him in those pages than on this side of the coffee table. Maybe coming here high had been a bad idea.

“It was one of our goals, the first one. ‘I will try to remember my dreams. I think they are important. That’s what you wrote right here.”

Andler showed him the paper with his handwriting. Paul didn’t remember writing it. He looked at it like he was giving it serious thought and imagined some maniac throwing Andler through the window.

“We talked about lucid dreaming, how a friend told you about it and you felt it would be helpful to you.”

Paul smiled and nodded. His friend had said “Bruh, you can fuck any girl you want, any way you want when you go lucid. I fuck porn stars two at a time every night”. It had sounded legit.

“Do you remember any of your dreams this week?”

Paul thought about the two girls from last night, which was easy as he had been thinking about them off and on all morning, and decided it would be funny to see Andler’s reaction. He couldn’t imagine the guy even discussing sex. If those two girls showed up at Andler’s house, he’d probably make them tea and ask them about their dads.

“Well, last night I dreamed about two girls, the hottest girls I've ever seen, I mean ever. I don’t know how my mind did it. I'm not creative enough to come up with girls that hot, you know?”

Andler’s reaction was not what Paul had expected. He got very still and seemed to be waiting for Paul to give some grand confession.

“What did these girls want from you?”

Paul laughed and spilled his coffee.

“Are you a robot, Andler?”

Andler didn’t laugh, and something in his not laughing killed Paul's laughter. Was he analyzing his dreams for real?

“Did they ask you anything?” Andler said.

“Uh, yea, you know, normal girl shit. Where I worked, how much I made, what I do for fun.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I don’t know why, but I told them about my job, that I worked for an insurance company. It was weird but, they seemed really interested. Like they thought it was cool that I worked there. What's that mean?”

Andler took a moment to snap out of whatever thoughts he was having.

“It could be a sign that you want to be that person, to take pride in your job. The idea of someone liking you for that seems to be something you want. What else did they ask you?”

“Uh, where the good clubs were, stuff about the city. I think they were from out of town. What does that mean?”

“What else did they ask you?” Paul usually took no shit from anyone, and by all rights he should have backhanded Andler for his tone alone, not to mention ignoring his question, but something had come over him and he couldn’t even consider doing anything besides answering truthfully.

“They asked me where I would be tomorrow. I mean today. They wanted to see me again.”

“What else?”

“That’s it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Sorry.” Paul couldn’t remember the last time he had apologized to anyone.

Andler sat back and sighed.

“Well, I want you to think about what you think that dream means and tell me about it next session. And try to remember any other dreams you have. We talked about dream journals a few sessions ago. I suggest you try your best to write in yours regularly.” There was a pause.

“Are we done?” Paul asked. It had only been half an hour.

“Yes.” Andler didn’t offer any other explanation, and Paul remembered he didn’t want to be there anyway, so he got up and left.

When he was gone, Andler took out his phone.

“He just left. Someone’s trying to get to him. No. I don’t know. Two girls, it seems. Got his P.O.E. Understood. No. Well, call me if they do so, and I’ll get him up.”

He hung up and went behind the desk, pulled the carpet up, and opened a floor safe. He took out a Beretta Px4 with a custom grip, a pouch of three magazines and some car keys, then grabbed his other keys off the desk and went out the door.

Continue

[cs-and-bellarke]

Bellarke- Love isn't weakness

Prev / Next Part

Chapter 13

Bellamy's P.O.V

I decided to see what Clarke was doing tonight because I was bored and I didn’t want to hang out with Octavia because I get tired of just hanging out with her all of the time. I texted her and then about an hour and a half later she called me.

*Phone call*

“Hello”

“Hey Bellamy, I got your text and I’m not doing anything tonight but if you are just trying to get me to hang out with you so you don’t have to deal with O and you want to make me then I don’t want to do anything”

“Calm down Princess, I was just thinking we can go to the small carnival that just opened with me”

“Sure”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not”

“Okay so I’ll pick you up around 6:30ish”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then”

“See you”

*End of phone call*

I can’t believe she said she would hang out with me tonight...I know it’s not a date but I kinda wish it was, anyway I think one reason why she is still closed off is because she thinks I’m still a player. I stopped being a player when I got into a relationship with Gina...she thought I had feelings for another and that I didn’t love her (well I didn’t love her yet because it was too soon) so she dumped me. It hurt but I understood why I guessed and if she didn’t I wouldn’t be as close to Clarke as I am now, I have developed feelings for my little sister's best friend how messed up is that.

I really hope I can get Clarke to let her walls down for me but knowing her it’s going to be harder than I think. Octavia wants me to do whatever it takes because she thinks if I can bring down her walls then maybe her and O could be closer but I just don’t think that is going to happen, it’s 6:25pm and I know Clarke only lives about 5 to 10 minutes away.

Clarke’s P.O.V

Bellamy arrives at my house at 6:30pm on the dot and I was really surprised that he did in the first place. I open the front door to leave and that’s when Murphy stops me, why does he always have to do this when I want to go somewhere he just appears.

“Where are you going?” he asks me.

“Out” I tell him.

“I can see that, where that’s what I’m asking”

“I’m going out with Bellamy Blake okay?”

“With Bellamy, that 2 timing player...I told you to stay away from him all he will do is hurt you and I can’t let that happen”

“It’s not a date, we are just going to a carnival, I know he will hurt me so I’m fighting whatever I feeling for him okay...Now can I please go”

“Okay, but be careful”

“I will, love you”

“Love you too”

I get into the car and he drives, we are silent but I like the silence. It's peaceful.  We are on the freeway and he hasn’t said a word to me but I don’t mind and at the same time I don’t want to talk because I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret.

“What took you so long to get to the car?” Bellamy asks.

“Someone got in my way when I was going out the door,” I said to him.

“May I ask whom”

“No one important”

“I don’t believe you”

“You don’t have to”

“Well we are here, come on, lets go”

We leave the car and we start to walk in...all it was, was a small little carnival for either little kids or just some fun. Bellamy and I walk around and joke about everything we see or hear around us and it’s nice but I can’t fight the feelings I have for him for very much longer, everytime he says something or just smiles I can’t help but want to kiss him or jump his bones. He makes me happy but I can’t get hurt again, yeah I might be in high school but I have been through hell and some people might not believe that I have been through that but I have and no one really knows how much shit I have been through at all.

Today was one of the best days I’ve had in awhile and that is because of Bellamy, he made today better by just being who he is and I can’t thank him enough for it. He won me this little stuffed elephant that I love so much and by the time they closed we were tired and wanted to go home but I didn’t want to go home, I wanted to stay with him.

“Ready to go” he asks when we get back to the front gate.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to go home,” I tell him.

“Where do you want to go then”

“I don’t know, anywhere but home”

“Okay then”

We drive off and I have no idea where we are going and I don’t care, I know Murphy will be worried and be pissed when he finds out why I was out so long and why I didn’t go home when I told him I would be home by midnight. I just hope he doesn’t blame Bellamy for this because it was my idea to not go home and to go anywhere but home.

Before I knew it we were at Bellamy’s spot...well he liked to say it was our spot because he and I were the only ones who knew about it. Bellamy is so kind to me and it confuses me a lot because he is a player that only cared for himself...so I thought. We got out of the car and I ran to the edge and I think Bellamy was worried that I would fall because of how fast I ran up there, but I couldn’t help it. Standing at the edge made me feel alive, made me feel free for once in my life and I couldn’t get enough of the feeling it gave me, I then felt a pair of strong hands hit my lower back and all I wanted to do was melt into them. I felt so safe when I felt his hands anywhere on me even when it was just my hand, like earlier tonight we were walking around and I felt his hand over mine and without thinking I interlocked our fingers together as we walked. 

Bellamy pulled me closer to his chest and I knew I couldn’t hide my feelings for him anymore even though how many times I have told myself that Love was weakness it’s not working. “What are you thinking about Princess?” Bellamy asks me when he sees that I’m spacing out.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it” I tell him. He lets go of me and when he does all I want is to feel his touch once again but I know if I ask for it then something will go wrong. I can’t hide behind lies anymore, I keep telling myself that I can’t be falling in love with my best friend's brother but that is just lying to myself because the truth was that I was falling in love with Bellamy and I couldn’t stop it from happening.

[sekhisadventures]

Lost Home, Found Hope

The Broken Tusk, a Bar in Orgrimmar. Several months after the Mag'har joined the Horde.

Galdia stared bleary eyed at the selection, her mug once again empty. She’d earned quite a bit of gold on that last trip, driving out some kobold clan that had been living in a cave full of the rare ore known as kajamite and had objected to a beverages company from Crapopolis, the main goblin city on Kezan, wanting to dig holes in what was basically their home to make more Kaja’cola. She didn’t give a shit, they screamed good and the money was there.

Now the money wasn’t there, and she was still sober-ish.

From behind her came a sigh, “I thought I might find you here…” said a deep feminine voice.

Galdia didn’t even look up, she knew who it belonged to. “What’dya want ya weird talking clefthoof?” she grumbled.

A stool was pulled out and a huge bovine-like woman sat down next to her, raising her eyebrow at the slightly inebriated orc. “We’ve been over this Galdia. I’m a tauren. Tau-ren… and I’m really getting worried about you. If you’re not out fighting you’re here getting drunk as a goblin on payday. I mean, I’m sure Gryshka appreciates the business but…” she began before Galdia cut her off.

“You ain’t my damn mother. She’s dead. Now get lost or I’ll fix that problem.” she snarled angrily. She didn’t ask for this, the damn cow just wouldn’t leave her alone. Bad enough she used the Light, at least she didn’t push it like that one blood elf bitch had. See how much she likes only being able to count to eight for the rest of her life.

“Like the last four times? Look, I’m not going to say don’t drink, infact… I had a talk with Grimo… well, something like that anyways… and we agreed you’ve earned some time off. You haven’t been to Pandaria yet, have you?” she asked.

Galdia sat up, resting her elbow on the table and her head against her hand, raising her eyebrow at the tauren. “Ain’t that the place where those cutesy bear-things come from? What about it?”

“Well… you could learn some new fighting techniques there. There’s a temple in the jungle there, in the Karasang Wilds, called the Temple of the Red Crane. Pandaren may look… cute… but they’re some of the best fighters on Azeroth. I mean they overthrew an empire without using weapons. Whats that tell you?” asked the tauren with a grin.

Galdia snorted, “Shitty weak empire?” she suggested with a sneer.

Nitika sighed. “Pandaria is also known for some of the best and strongest beer on Azeroth.” she added.

Galdia raised her eyebrows, “… ah fuck it, why not? Alright, got a map?” she asked.

About half an hour later she was heading out of the city towards the docks to board a merchant vessel bound for the Jade Forest. The vessel mostly brought over beer, silks (the blood elves and nightborne were very fond of Pandaren silk,) tea leaves, and other goods, but it also took passengers who could pay for room and board.

The Temple of the Red Crane, Two Months Later

Galdia glared out at the jungle as she stood on the steps, the orc uncomfortable in the red robes that she’d been given during her stay, far too soft and fancy for her liking.

She’d taken Nitika’s advice and went to learn from the Pandaren Monks, but it was all worthless to her! Just proverbs, lessons on thoughts, and posture work. She hadn’t even held a weapon since she’d arrived!

Oh she’d seen some! On display! Like fucking paintings! But they looked like they hadn’t been used in ages! The orc grumbled in annoyance, ”Never listening to that damn talking clefthoof again…” she snarled, hearing the gong and heading back in for today’s lessons. She was at least relieved that it wasn’t just pandaren there. She’d encountered a few elves, tauren, and even some orcs. There were also members of the Alliance there but the Pandaren were quite careful to schedule their training times to be separate from each other… just incase.

Chi-Ji may be the avatar of Hope, but there’s Hope and then there’s Delusion.

She would begrudgingly admit she learned a few tricks for avoiding damage, reflex training and how to dodge and all, but she was a warrior! She wanted to learn how to FIGHT, not dance!

After the two hours of training she started to stomp off to the dining hall for what she was sure was just more rice (though with some cuts of grilled tiger meat. The Pandaren at least understood that some of their trainees needed more protein than others) when she heard a chuckle.

“Red really is your color isn’t it?” came a bemused voice.

She glared, turning towards the source, and saw Nitika leaning against a wall. “I came to see how things were going. Learned anything lately?” she asked.

Galdia stormed up to her and glared right in her face, “Yeah, maybe some wussy dodging shit, but I haven’t held anything sharper than a damn fork since I got here! What the fel am I supposed to learn here?!” she demanded.

Nitika sighed, “Well, to be honest… I thought it might help with whats causing all that… you know… anger.” she said, sounding concerned. She figured Galdia might at least be a bit more loosened up after some time here, but the orc was as tightly wound up as ever.

Galdia snorted, “I am a Warsong warrior. Anger is good. Anger is how we fight!” she insisted.

Nitika nodded, “To a point yes, but its eating you alive. You fight, you drink, you drink, you fight… you’re killing everything, including yourself. I just felt maybe…”

“Maybe what…” she glared, her eyes narrowing as she began to work out what the Tauren was talking about before she even said it.

“… maybe they could help you move on from… um… not being on Draenor anymore?” she tried.

The hall was silent, but Nitika swore for a moment that she’d heard a faint snapping sound as Galdia’s eyes bulged and the orc gritted her teeth.

“That’s what this is all about? That’s why you sent me here?! TO MAKE ME FORGET MY FUCKING HOME?!” she roared.

Nitika took a step back, “No! Not forget it, just… accept…” she tried to explain, but the orc stomped forward and cut her off again.

“ACCEPT WHAT?! THAT I’VE GOT NO DAMNED HOME NOW?! THAT I’M JUST SOME UNWANTED REFUGEE ON SOMEONE ELSE’S WORLD?! THAT MY PEOPLE WERE BROUGHT HERE TO BE WEAPONS FOR THE HORDE AND NOTHING ELSE?!” she demanded, spit flying from her mouth. ”I WAS DOING THAT ALREADY YOU DAMN CLEFTHOOF! THIS WHOLE DAMN TRIP WAS WORTHLESS!” she snarled, then turned and stormed towards the sleeping quarters, her appetite suddenly gone. When she got to the stairs she glared back at Nitika, “Tomorrow I’m going back to Orgrimmar. Try to interrupt me at a bar again and I’ll just break your damn face.” she glared, spitting on the tiles of the floor before heading upstairs.

Nitika was silent as she left, letting out a long sigh. “Galdia… can’t you see that this is killing you? I’m just trying to help…” she muttered under her breath, the tauren turning to the guest rooms of the temple where she was staying.

Later that Night

That night was not a good one for Nitika or Galdia.

In the trainee sleeping quarters the orc girl fumed, glaring up at the ceiling as if she could burn a hole in it just by staring. How DARE that damn woman trick her into coming here! How DARE she remind her of her loss just so she could rub it in her face! Just to remind her that she’d never set foot in Gorgrond again.

That she’d never see any of those who didn’t make it out with her again.

That she’d never know if they were killed or Lightbound or…

She snarled, quickly wiping her eyes. She was Warsong, she was iron. She did not cry, ever.

In her own small guest room Nitika knelt near a small totem of An’she she’d brought with her in mediation, feeling guilty at her good intentions gone wrong.

She’d seen Galdia’s state some nights after Mola’raum had gone to drag her out of whatever bar in Orgrimmar was hosting her that time, the orc girl tearing up her intestines on whatever drinks she could lay hands on.

She’d gone through everything some bars stocked, even some of the drinks that the Forsaken would balk at trying, and at this rate if all the fighting didn’t kill her the girl would probably shit out her own liver.

Galdia may not admit it, but it was slow suicide. If only she could get the orc to understand that…

In the basement of the temple one of the younger monks on cleaning duty was sweeping up the lower chambers. A young pandaren boy, not even a teen yet, worked his broom across the floor when he noticed it suddenly became stuck.

“Huh? Did someone drop some honey down here or something?” he asked himself, walking over to the strange substance on the floor, “No… honey isn’t black… what is that?” he mumbled as he leaned in, seeing a crack in the tiles of the floor with something bubbling up between it… black, mixed with white… and… did it just move?!

The heart of Y’shaarj was gone, the massive manifestations no more. However, the presence of an Old God is a difficult thing to banish entirely.

In the dark parts of Pandaria, in the deep places, his breath endured…

The boy lept back as a clawed hand burst out of the mass, trying to grab him, his eyes widening as he recognized the creature from the scrolls he’d seen in his training. “Oh no! Someone! H-help! THE SHA ARE COMING!” he cried as he ran up the stairs.

A few minutes later a loud clanging bell rang out through the temple as all the trainees awoke with a start, Nitika looking up from her prayers with wide eyes, a chill running down her back, and across it. She knew what that feeling was, and it filled her with fear.

“Oh no… no no no…” the tauren whispered as she quickly threw on her robes and grabbed her staff, shouldering the door open as she ran out into the halls, “Not now, not again!” she gasped, heading into the main hallway and almost colliding with Galdia as she sprinted into the room.

“You! Tauren! What the fel is going on?!” demanded the orc.

“I… they call it the sha. They’re these Void monsters that were born from negative emotions like despair and fear, and they’re coming! I can feel them!” she stammered, the tauren feeling her fear building even as she tried to fight the sensation. She could feel the scars on her back starting to ache again. It didn’t help that she was barely two miles from where she’d gotten them!

“Void monsters?” said the orc, then grinned as it looked to a display case with different weapons. She walked over to it, then tore the sleeve off her robes and wrapped it around her fist, smashing the glass with it before pulling out a Pandaren longsword, “GOOD! Its about damn time I got to fight something! Where are they?!” she sneered.

Nitika looked around, then her face grew pale as she pointed. It shouldn’t be possible for fur to pale like that, but it did.

Swarming up the steps from the basement was a whole mob of sha manifestations, black and white fanged abominations that were barely shaped like anything living, their leader a giant floating torso with claws as long as Nitika’s forearms and a leering grin.

Galdia actually stared at that, the orc’s eyes going wide. “Okay. Living shadows, that’s new. Well, lets see if a shadow can bleed! LOK’TAR OGAR!” she roared, raising her blade and attacking.

Nitika was frozen in place for a long moment, the tauren gripping her staff and trembling until she heard Galdia’s voice yell, “Are you gonna fight or just watch?!” The tauren shook her head, then whispered a prayer to An’she and raised her staff, sending a bolt of pure sunlight at the nearest sha…

However, the more they fought the more sha appeared, clawing their way up the stairs and over the other defenders who joined the fight. Soon the hall was full of the sounds of combat as the defenders began to fall, their bodies shaking and turning a chalky grey as the Sha fed on them.

Galdia snarled in frustration, chopping another one down even as two more clambered over their fallen ally. “They just keep coming! Nitika! How do we fight these damn things?!” she demanded!

However, Nitika didn't answer her.

Galdia cut down another and looked over her shoulder, “Hey clefthoof! I’m talking to… oh shit.” she stared.

Nitika was on her knees, clutching her shoulders and gasping for breath, her fur turning from brown to chalky grey as her eyes watered. “This is my fault, I caused this… I just wanted to help and now… I… I caused this… what have I done…” she whimpered, the sha manifestation feeding her guilt and turning it into pure deep despair, using it to weaken the tauren.

Galdia ran up to her and shook her roughly, “Hey hey hey! Snap out of it ya damn clefthoof! Whats wrong with you?!” she yelled, but then… she had never seen a sha attack before… but she was about to experience it as the largest manifestation grabbed her head roughly and a voice echoed in her head.

THIS ONE IS MINE!

Galdia went rigid, her eyes bulging as the temple went away from her… she was floating… floating in void… no, not void… all around her were stars… was this the Great Dark? She…. She saw a planet below her…

“Is that… Draenor?” she whispered. She could make out the shapes from Grom’s old map that she’d seen as a kid. There was Frostfire Ridge, and Talador, and Gorgrond… she felt it get closer and closer… was she going home?!

Suddenly, the continents began to glow brightly, then too bright… it was the same glow that she saw Yrel’s soldiers use to cast magic!

“W-what?! NO! STOP IT! DAMNED LIGHTBOUND! STOP!” she struggled, trying to move, but it felt like her body and mind weren’t connected properly, all she could do was watch as the landmass began to glow brighter and brighter, becoming so bright she couldn’t see at all… and then…

… it was gone… all of it… the whole world was swallowed up by the Light… where Draenor was… there was nothing…

Galdia felt the fight drain out of her, feeling a sick twisted sensation in her gut, “… gone… a-all of it… Old Grom… Zayera… everyone… I… no…” she whispered… but this wasn’t something she could cut or stab or fight… it wasn’t an enemy a sword could stop…

She felt the claws dig deeper into her mind, she despaired… Draenor was gone… she would never see her home again…

And then… she heard another voice call out.

"One home is lost child, but you have found another!"

Suddenly Galdia was back in the training hall kneeling next to Nitika, the tauren gasping as her whole body shook, the color slowly returning to both of them.

Standing in the center of the room was a massive red and white feathered crane that seemed to shine with an inner radiance… not the Light, but something good. The Sha hissed and shrank back from the bird, the creature’s aura seeming to keep them at bay.

"Hope is never lost to anyone, nor you Galdia Grimaxe." spoke a musical voice inside of Galdia’s mind, "Draenor may be gone, but now Azeroth welcomes you and your people! This world can be your world as well!"

Galdia felt a hand on her’s “L-listen to Chi-Ji…” said Nitika in a weary voice, her body still shaking slightly, “I… only wanted you to come here to help you Galdia. Me, Mola’raum, we all want to stand with you as a friend and ally, not as someone who just wants you to be a weapon and nothing else.” she nodded.

Galdia looked at the tauren, then took a breath… “Draenor… is gone… but…” she slowly rose to her feet.

Galdia looked around, the orc shaking her head violently to shake away the tears that had formed, then gripped her sword as she glared at the sha around her, focusing on the largest.

“You… tried to corrupt me didn’t you? Tried to turn me into some void thing like you, didn’t you?” she snarled, focusing her anger on it as the sha hesitated. The girl had been a feast of despair moments before, but now… it was like fire to them, they couldn’t touch her mind! “YOU tried to corrupt ME!?”

Galdia snarled, all despair forgotten, a burning rage taking it's place! The orc roared in fury, “MY PEOPLE ARE UNCORRUPTABLE, MONSTER! WE STOOD AGAINST THE DEMONS, THE LIGHT, AND NOW I STAND AGAINST YOU! DRANOSH’EK MAG’HAR!” she bellowed, raising her sword and charging down the sha.

The creature’s arms stretched out for her, but they only met Pandaren steel, cutting through them like butter as the monster screamed in rage at its thwarted attempt to feed.

From there the battle went very differently. Chi Ji’s song fought against the corrupting influence of the sha and, cut off from the despair that Nitika and Galdia had been experiencing no new sha appeared to replace the others! Within the hour all that was left was splatters of inky black shadow that, come the dawn, had evaporated into nothingness.

The Next Day

Galdia walked down to the exit of the temple, the sword she’d wielded that night before hanging in a scabbard on her back. The head monk had told her that her bladework was some of the finest he’d ever seen and, well, it was a bit of a shame that the sword had spent so long locked up in a display case. Perhaps last night was a sign that it should be put to use again.

Nitika was waiting for her when she got to the exit, the tauren looking a bit awkward as she came near, “Um… Galdia, about last night… I…” she started, but the orc just shrugged and smacked her shoulder lightly with the back of her hand.

”Save it. I said I was going back to Orgrimmar today, and I meant it.” she nodded. The tauren sighed a bit, but then Galdia smirked at her, “You comin’? Its gonna be a boring trip home without someone to talk to.”

Nitika looked at her, then smiled and nodded, walking along next to the young orc. The two of them, together, going to their home.

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