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heartofsnark · 4 years

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This Is Love (Chapter Four): Through The Gates

Notes: We’re inching closer and closer to the Seed’s arrival, I know it’s a slow burn to the game events, but I’m enjoying building up to it and hope it will make the impact of it all just that much more meaningful.

Word Count: 9098

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, Belligerent Drunk Man, Drug Overdose, Pratt and Dahlia being dumbasses

For chapter one and the warnings about this fics overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

A tall bearded man is on her porch; leaning against the railing. The familiar snake tattoos that curl down his forearms give him away; Lonny. The Eden’s Gate member who showed at the station to give her and Whitehorse a hard time. What is he doing at her trailer? There’s no reason for him to be here.

“Can I help you?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she steps up onto the porch.

“Just figured I’d stop by, make a friendly visit to the new deputy,” he expression is somewhere between a smile and a predator baring its teeth.

“And, how exactly did you figure out where I live?”

“Small place, loose lips, word spreads fast.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, now, if we’re done with this ‘friendly’ visit-”

“Word spreads especially fast within our congregation, when someone starts arresting our members.”

“Maybe, your congregation members shouldn’t commit crimes?”

“The law of man matters little compared to the law of god.”

“Well, I get paid to enforce the law of man, so unless god starts signing my paychecks, I’ll be sticking to that.”

“Greed isn’t a pretty sin.”

Goosebumps prickle and creep up her skin at the word sin, making her throat tight, as the word settles over her. Memories of her stepfather claw at the back of her mind, phantom pain of beatings past making her body ache, the guilt and shame of being a sinner pitting in her stomach. She digs her nails into the palms of her hands and grits her teeth.

“Yes, so greedy, as you can tell, I mean just look around, ” she gestures around the dilapidated trailer park, “the used needles a foot away from the kiddy slide cost me extra, but I think they really bring the place together.”

“Charming.”

“I do try.”

“Look, I’ll make this stupidly simple, for you,” Lonny creeps closer, nearly standing on her, glowering down at her, “don’t step on our toes and we won’t step on yours.”

“Is that so?” She grins and literally steps on Lonny’s toes, crushing her boot down as hard as she can, until he finally grunts in pain and takes a step back.

“Don’t make a problem out of yourself, deputy….” His dark eyes flicker around, until finally landing on the shed behind her trailer, “that where you keep your bike?”

“Maybe, maybe not, whats it to you?”

“You know, a little generosity goes a long way to mending relationships, deputy. That motorcycle of yours would be a nice little gift to the flock and most importantly, me.”

“Get bent.”

“It’s important that we all do our part, deputy. That everyone gives a little, so that we all can flourish. As we inch closer and closer to the brink; that becomes even more important. What’s yours is mine, so, which is more important, keeping your motorcycle or helping others?”

He’s in her space again, hand reaching out and squeezing her shoulder in a pseudo-friendly gesture; that not even almost friendly smile on his face again.

“I’d sooner watch the world rot than give up that bike. Now, get the fuck off my property.”

She shoves his hand off her shoulder and marches into her trailer; slamming the door shut behind her. Dahlia could scream, could tear apart her entire trailer in rage. Where the hell does that guy get off? Demanding her bike; the motorcycle she slaved over. Her and Lloyd rebuilt that thing from nearly scratch after his son wrecked it; left it abandoned in their shed, a muddle heap of metal left to gather dust. She helped rebuild it; just a project at the time, something to keep busy while she was waiting to see if she got accepted to the police academy, meant to stave off the anxiety. And when it was done, perfectly functional and shining like it was brand new, Lloyd told her to keep it, she deserved it.

There’s not a lot of things Dahlia’s felt she earned; feeling every success has been a fluke, a mistake, a moment of luck. But, she earned that bike. She nearly fought Lloyd’s son when he visited that holiday season; trying to reclaim the bike now that it was fixed and she refused. Lloyd sided with her; because she earned it. Because she put the work and hours into it. And she’ll be damned if she’s going to let some bearded zealot barge in and demand she give it up.

The more she learns about Eden’s Gate, the less she likes them. Stealing booze, trying to take her bike, trying to scare her. She needs a cigarette; she decides and pulls the pack from her pocket; only to find it empty. Damn it. Dahlia starts digging through tossed aside pairs of pants and jackets; she has to have a half empty pack somewhere. She grabs up her duffle bag, still mostly unpacked other than what she’s worn or used this week, rummaging through the pockets for a pack of cigarettes.

A crumpled piece of something brushes against her hand and she yanks it out; only to find a scrunched up white pamphlet. She straightens it out a bit and groans when she reads the front; Eden’s Gate, We Love You surrounding a cross like symbol. Why is this group all over everything?

Giving up on finding a cigarette somewhere in her mess; Dahlia changes into some comfy clothes and plops herself down on the couch, turning the small tv on as background noise more than anything. She finds herself fiddling with that pamphlet again, placed aside before she changed.

Dahlia opens it; if this damn group is going to haunt all her days here, she might as well read their crap. It seems to be fairly standard religious fare. Casted out? Rejected by society? Try Jesus. Take a leap of faith, wash away your sins, confess, atone, and become stronger by joining their family. There are mentions of how corrupt the world is and how it’s all going to end; nice appeals to fear mongering, always have to appreciate that approach. Every word of the dribble reminds her of darker days, of her step father and his asinine sermons. The type of people who’d probably make a PSA about how Dungeons and Dragons is satanic, Harry Potter should be burned at the stake, and Pokemon is an evil atheist agenda to push evolutionary theory on kids.

The leader; man bun guy, calls himself The Father. Those goosebumps and bad memories come back. She knows assuming that all strongly religious people are like her step-father isn’t the best practice. But mentions of sin and calling himself something regarding father, just… doesn’t help.

He calls his siblings heralds; a sister and two brothers.

Her eyes glaze over as she absorbs the same crap she's had spewed at her for years, thoughts of making a donation to planned parenthood in their name pass through her mind. She doesn’t know for certain if the group is pro-life, but one can assume. The picture on the second page of the little pamphlet catches her eye and she sputters out a laugh.

Who the hell runs the PR for this church?

First the creepy statue, then the serial killer-esque drawing on him to open their book, and now a family portrait so awkward she might cringe herself into a coma. Three men and a woman; siblings according to the text. Man bun is in a chair in the middle; not even making eye contact with the camera. The woman, Faith, the siren she’s seen at the hotel and accidentally grabbed outside the diner is on the floor beside the chair. She looks annoyed, like a teenager being dragged to an awkward family dinner. Behind them are the two brothers. One with slicked back dark hair in a coat that appears to be covered in planes; which is… a look. And the other a mountain of a human compared to his sibling; ginger hair with the sides shaved, in camouflage, holding a red rifle.

It all looks ridiculous, from their expressions to their poses. Whoever thought this was a good way to market them is the epitome of human stupidity. Dahlia crumples the little pamphlet and tosses it into the trash; thankful for a laugh to cap off her night. She spends an hour or so watching tv, drifting off to sleep on the couch as she’s done every night.. Eyelids growing heavier and heavier with each second, until black blankets her mind.

Her bladder wakes her up during the middle of the night, causing her to turn and flop around, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She stares at the ceiling contemplating if she has to pee bad enough to warrant making herself physically stand up; the effort feeling herculean in the bleary twilight hours of the night.

“What if I told you, you could be free of sin,” a male voice drifts from the tv and she groans; this shit again?

She sits up on the couch, sliding down onto the floor with the clumsiness of her sleep leaden body. On her tv, at four am, amid commercials for sexy single phone lines is an infomercial for Eden’s Gate.

One of the brothers; the one with slicked back hair in the plane coat, John Seed as the text on screen tells her. He dramatically talks about how all you have to do is say Yes, the power of Yes, walking around what looks like a red carpet covered in flowers; terraces laced with them around him, a crowd gathered around as he talks.

Is he the reason for the Hollywood style YES sign in the valley?

The crowd around him starts to chant the word yes; he’s saying ‘yes, I will be saved’, ‘yes, I will confess’, ‘yes, I will atone.’ And he gestures upwards; revealing a lit up sign of the word YES and she bursts out laughing; her stomach aching and her bladder upset with her for it. Once her laughter subsides, she does what any good decent young adult would do. She rewinds it to the start of the infomercial, grabs her phone from the table, and records the cringefest to post online before finally going to the bathroom.

She goes back to sleep after, still cracking up about this dumb religion and their dumb advertisement.

Dahlia wakes up around noon or so the next day, checking her phone while still curled up in the couch. The post of the religious cringe has gotten some traction; someone making a reaction gif out of the guy gesturing to the yes sign. Jokes about how the guy must get off on the word yes, how insane it must have felt to be working on this, ‘imagine having a grown man in a plane coat telling you to chant yes while he dramatically touches his own tit’. The internet truly is a beautiful place sometimes.

She stretches out her muscles and decides to call the clinic, the one she gave info about to Tweak. Dahlia wants to make sure he actually reached out and didn’t just use her good graces to avoid trouble and call it done.

“Hey, I’m Deputy Hale of the Hope County Sheriff’s department, I referred someone to contact your clinic about rehabilitation. I was calling to see if they contacted you.”

“Of course, could I have their name?”

“Aaron Kirby.”

“Yes, we did receive a call from Aaron Kirby, he’s been placed on our waitlist as our drug counseling services are currently at capacity and we can’t take on any more clients.”

“Understood, thank you.”

She sighs; she can’t fault him for that. Hopefully, they’ll be able to get him in soon. Dahlia stretches, making her back pop, now what to do with the rest of her day. Maybe it’s Lonny trying to take her bike or maybe it’s the mention of those Clutch Nixon stunts yesterday; but she has an itch to go riding and do some stupid shit.

A quick shower and change of clothes; then she’s grabbing her helmet.

Music reverberating in her skull, the rev of her motorcycle engine beneath her, the wind whipping around her, and she’s healed from everything if only for a moment. Dancing and riding her bike are the only things to do this for her; or maybe it’s the music itself that does. But when her blood is pumping, her ears are ringing, and her throat is raw from screaming along to the songs; nothing else matters.

She’s not lonely as she takes a sharp turn right at the chorus.

She’s not sad or pathetic as she cruises down the road, passing cars.

She’s not a disgusting sinner as she takes one of the paths that goes through the woods.

She’s not rejected, worthless, and tossed aside as she hits one of the many ramps across the county, catching air before hitting the ground again.

Everything is pure chaos and adrenaline in her veins; no room for guilt or doubt or

Deer. Big deer, in the road, it isn’t moving.

She hits the brakes; the sudden jerk of a stop, pushing her body forward, losing her grip and being ejected forward. Dahlia hits the ground in a heap, head rattling but thankfully not split on the road. She forces herself to roll over on her back, body aching in protest. Her eyes close and she takes deep breaths, trying to gather herself.

Something fuzzy pushes against her hand, glancing down to see the large deer sniffing at her. It’s no worse for wear, so that’s good at least. She forces herself to sit up, body protesting, and she peels her helmet off. The deer shuffles back a little but when she extends a hand it tentatively presses against it. She scratches its nose.

“You’re very lucky you’re cute.” She digs around in her pockets, finding a pack of crackers, she always has food on her if she can help it and she offers the deer a cracker. It eats from her hand. Maybe she’s just trying to avoid moving her bruised body, but she spends a few moments finishing the little pack with the deer before finally forcing herself to stand.

Her motorcycle is in good shape, a little scuff on the side, but nothing she can’t buff out if needed. Dahlia’s baby remains the most stable part of her life. She rides it back to her trailer, a bit more carefully. She’s managed to burn through most of the day with her reckless bullshit.

She calls Lloyd and Caroline that night; telling them about her first week, skirting around details that might sadden them. Going to the F.A.N.G Center is reduced to just going there, nothing of being overwhelmed and leaving. No mentions of Pratt tricking her when she talks about Peaches, just an old lady with a cougar Dahlia got to carry. No mention of being left out everytime Pratt and Hudson go to the Spread Eagle. No mention of Lonny, the threats, the religious group that seems much more involved with the community than she originally thought. Everything is fine, perfect, ideal.

The pain of her little crash has mostly faded by the time she shows up to work the next day; uniform properly on when she comes into the station bullpen.

“What the hell happened to you?” Hudson calls out and Dahlia can’t help the heat crawling up her face at the attention. Her forearms and some of her upper chest that’s exposed are covered in bruises; mottling blues and purples.

“Oh, uh, I had a little bike crash yesterday.” She shrugs.

“Jesus christ,” Pratt grumbles and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Rook, you need a hobby,” Dahlia starts to say something, but Hudson continues, “one that doesn’t injure you.”

She likes to dance, but dancing completely alone isn’t as much fun, not awful but not as fun. And there's not exactly dance clubs in Hope County. Hmmm. Unfortunate. She shrugs, if her hobby kills her, it kills her.

During patrol, Pratt and her don’t talk about the F.A.N.G Center, they don’t talk about him being angry at her. An awkward cloud hanging over them as they patrol. She doesn’t even bother to ask to give tickets when they pull people over; already knowing Pratt won’t let her and not wanting the conversation. An emergency call to what’s called Sergey’s place breaks up the monotony, suspected overdose.

She digs her nails into the leather of her seat as Pratt flips on the sirens; what if it’s Tweak? Doubts of if she did the right thing running through her head. She wanted to help him; but if he ended up just being put on a waitlist and overdosing right after, how much good did she do?

Sergey’s place is a wooded area filled with abandoned train cars where homeless people and drug addicts gather. Dahlia rushes to where she sees a group of them gathered around; screaming and crying coming from the center.

“Clear the way, so we can help,” Pratt tells them, the crowd dispersing, a woman is seizing. Her entire body jerking and drool pooling from her mouth; another woman holding her close, crying over her.

“Did she take anything?” Dahlia asks.

“We were shooting up and then she was on the ground, I, it’s all my fault, I-”

“Understood, we’re gonna do everything we can to save her.”

Dahlia holds the seizing woman as still as she can, getting out the syringe of narcan that's kept in patrol cars. She plunges it into the woman’s arm, forcing the medicine into her system, watching as her seizing slowly starts to lessen. Removing it, she notices the large bruise and cut on the woman’s forehead.

“Dispatch,” Pratt radios in, “we need an ambulance out to Sergey’s place, confirmed overdosed, head trauma, female early twenties. Junior Deputy Hale has administered a dose of Narcan, over.”

Dahlia stays with the woman, to make sure she doesn’t seize again and hurt herself further. Meanwhile, Pratt clears the way and helps get the ambulance into the area when it arrives; the woman being taken away on the stretcher. They find out the one who was holding her was her sister, allowing her to go with her to the emergency room, while Pratt asks some questions of those who were around. Nothing suspicious; just an overdose, no one to blame.

The younger deputy sighs and a hand clamps down on her shoulder; gently squeezing. Pratt is next to her and she raises an eyebrow at him.

“We got here quick, she should be fine.”

“Maybe, lets get going.”

The conversation is still more than a little stilted as the day goes on; but it isn’t quite the awkward silence of before. Pratt making little comments and saying things, while she nods or hmms along.

Later in the afternoon, when they’ve stopped back at the station, for lunch and paperwork regarding the overdose. She yawns and stretches her arms, standing up from her desk to get coffee. Maybe she needs caffeine or maybe she’s just tired of sitting in one place; but either way she’s up and moving.

She rubs a hand down her face as she enters the kitchenette where the fridge and coffee machine are. Dahlia grabs her mug; one that was bought for her by Lloyd and Caroline. It’s a little embarrassing, the picture of a black cat with the message, ‘horrible and adorable.’

Warmth presses in close to her back, looming over her. The smell of Pratt’s cologne hits her just as a large hand plucks her mug off the counter. Pratt holding the mug high above her head.

“Hey!” She tries to grab it from him but can’t reach, Pratt grinning as she makes the effort to stand on her tiptoes but still can’t quite get it.

“Something wrong?” he smirks, “you can’t reach your kitty cat mug?”

“Can you go five seconds without being an ass?” She turns to face him, glaring at his shit eating grin, the mischief in his eyes as he crowds her and holds the mug just out of reach.

“Hmmmm, no. Can you go five seconds without pouting?” He reaches up with the hand not holding her mug hostage and cups under her jaw to squish her cheeks together and force her lips to pout out; laughing at her.

She smacks away his hand, making a grab for her mug, knocking against his chest in the attempt before he jumps back.

Dahlia whines and he just laughs, dodging her again as she tries to take her mug back. Her fingers can barely reach his face, let alone high above his head where he’s holding her mug hostage. She clambers to grab a hold of his bicep; trying to pull herself up high enough to grab it, laughing at the ridiculousness of trying to essentially climb her coworker to get her mug.

“Jesus christ, you fuckin’ spider monkey!” He nearly falls over, but catches himself and switches the mug to his other hand, placing it on top on the cupboards.

She glares for a beat, still hanging off of Pratt’s arm before letting go. Dahlia can’t even reach the top shelf in the cupboards.

“I’m actually going to strangle you.”

“Something wrong, Thumbelina?” He taunts and ruffles a hand through her hair, the gesture far more rough and teasing than when Whitehorse does it to comfort her.

“Yeah, my coworker is an ass.”

“Not my fault you’re short.”

“If I get dirt on the counter, you’re cleaning it.”

“What do you-” he bursts into laughter when she box jumps up onto the counter, grabbing her mug. The deep rumble of it makes her smile, it’s ridiculous, but he’s left her no choice.

“The hell are you doing, Rook?!” Whitehorses’ voice cuts through Pratt’s cackling and she jumps down with a yelp.

“Pratt did it.”

The older deputy straightens up, after nearly bending over doubled from his laughing fit. Whitehorse pinches the bridge of his nose, Dahlia swears she can see the migraine forming in his head.

“I didn’t do anything,” Pratt defends himself, “she managed that all on her own.”

“I, I just...no feet on the counter, that's where food goes, for fucks sake, ” Whitehorse looks from Dahlia to Pratt, “and no whatever you did.”

With that the sheriff leaves; weary of their bullshit. Dahlia jabs her fist into Pratt’s ribs, hard enough to jostle him but not enough to truly hurt.

“You got me in trouble!” She yells, sounding every bit a kid who just got ratted out to the teacher, and Pratt only snickers.

By the time Dahlia manages to get her coffee, her face hurts from smiling. The ache of happiness followed throughout the day, until Hudson and Pratt cap off the night with another day of chatting at the Spread Eagle, Dahlia left to go home alone.

The next day a call comes in from Adelaide Drubman, Hurk Sr’s ex wife who owns the marina as Dahlia’s been told. She’s seen advertisements around for the older woman’s real estate business, telling people to call Addie. The woman pictured on the signs of those advertisements is a fair representation, albeit maybe a little more airbrushed, of the woman standing before them when they arrive. Older with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, a red bandana tied in her hair. She’s all sly smiles and winks when she sees the two deputies walking towards her.

“Well, hey there, hon’,” she greets them, the southern Montana accent one of the strongest Dahlia’s heard since she’s arrived here.

“Hey, Addie,” Pratt replies in kind and Dahlia gives an awkward wave, “what’s wrong?”

What’s right, Dahlia can’t help but wonder as she looks at the property, clearly abandoned and dilapidated.

“Well, I think some squatters might have moved in on me, sweetheart. And, apparently threatening them with my gun is illegal, but having y’all run ‘em off with yours is fine. Go figure.”

“Yeah, the law is pretty picky about that kind of thing,” Pratt says with a laugh.

“I mean, I’m not complaining , at least I get a chance to see some young pieces of ass in uniform.”

Dahlia chokes and coughs; heat flooding up to the apples of her cheek. That was blunt. Really blunt. Pratt doesn’t seem the least bit bothered, maybe he’s just used to this. Despite her embarrassment, she’s smiling. Something about Adelaide is comforting, warm and friendly, the kind of person who doesn’t know a stranger. Dahlia remembers the gross curmudgeon of an old man that use to be her husband.

“Speaking of which,” Adelaide continues, looking at Dahlia, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, honey.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m new at the station.”

“Our probie junior deputy.”

“Adelaide Drubman, pleased to meet ya.”

“Uh, this might be impolite,” she pauses, rethinking for a moment, but she needs answers, “but were you seriously married to Hurk Sr?”

“Un-fucking-fortunately.”

“Did you lose a bet?”

Adelaide starts laughing and Dahlia can’t help but smile, the sound absolutely heartwarming.

“I’m serious; lose a bet, piss off a witch and get cursed, broke a mirror and had seven years bad luck… It’s gotta be something, ‘cause that just don’t add up.”

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing,” the older woman tells her, “word of advice, don’t let anyone tell you you gotta stay with a man just ‘cause he knocks you up.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Good, keep that mentality, save you years of suffering.”

“Okay, enough chat, let’s go check out the place,” Pratt says, nudging Dahlia to get a move on. She sticks her tongue out at him as they walk into the rundown house.

There’s trash strewn around, thankfully no needles or sign of drug users here. Adelaide must have a lot of trust in whoever she has cleaning these places up for resell. They pass through rooms, looking for anyone who’s not meant to be there, knocking on doors and calling out. Most of the house is cleared through and the two of them head to the attic, a good place for any squatters to hide.

The stairs creak under her feet as she takes them two at a time, moving ahead of Pratt in minutes. She hears him grumble, he tells her to slow down, but she doesn’t.

It’s dimly lit, some abandoned furniture and old antique crap littering the area; blocking the window that might have let in even a glimmer of sunlight. She flicks on her flashlight. The light illuminates the dust that hangs heavy in the air, drifting across her vision. Something rustles, a box shuffling across the floor.

“What was that?” Pratt asks as he finally joins her in the attic.

“I don’t know, yet.”

Scratchy noises echo through the room and she walks towards where she saw the box move. She crouches down and shifts the boxes out of the way, finding nothing but a dusty floor beneath them. Then something presses against her leg, a soft sniffing noise.

“Oh my god!” She gasps as she looks down at the cute opossum staring up at her; baby pink nose sniffing at her jeans. A white face, tawny gray almost black body, with big soft dark brown eyes, its wiry whiskers curling at odd angles.

“Is something wrong?!” Pratt yells out and comes rushing over, feet stomping across the floor; the heavy thuds making the opossum hiss and creep backwards.

“You scared it, jackass.”

“I,” he looks down at the hissing opossum, “I thought something happened.”

“Shhhhhh…”

Dahlia reaches out; tentatively brushing her fingers against its narrow snout, feeling the short slightly rough fur. The hissing stops and it sniffs at her hand, letting her scratch up its face to the top of its head. It relaxes into her touch and she scratches behind its ear.

“You can’t pet every animal, you meet, Rook.”

“Watch me,” she says before scooping the opossum up in her arms, holding it close to her chest. A tongue licks over her cheek, the marsupial content in Dahlia’s arms.

Pratt shakes his head and leaves the attic; Dahlia following him down the stairs. Adelaide is waiting outside the home when the two deputies exit.

“Good news, Addie-”

“I acquired a baby.”

“Jesus fuck,” Pratt rubs a hand down his face at her interruption, “there’s no squatters.”

“’Preciate ya coming out to check and taking care of the opossum problem.”

“I fail to see the problem.” Dahlia’s new friend is trying to climb up her head, licking her scalp.

“You really gonna try to sale this mess?” Pratt asks, rolling his eyes and ignoring the younger deputy’s new pet.

“It’s my best chance of making any profit anymore; those fuckin’ Seeds are buying up any place thats actually worth a damn thing. Flipping run down places is the only way to even hope of making money anymore. You know those bastards even tried to by the Marina.”

“They’re gonna own the entire county before we know it.”

Deputy Pratt shrugs his shoulders and Dahlia chews her lip; unsure if she likes how casually they talk about the local religious nutjob owning the county. The older deputy doesn’t even seem bothered by the thought; the idea of them buying everything just thrown out as blasé as one would say the time of day.

“I swear to god, I can’t figure out what I wanna do more; punch John Seed’s face or ride it.”

Dahlia raises an eyebrow at the older woman; she’s unsure what that means…but it sounds vaguely inappropriate… Her nose scrunches, brows furrowing as she tries to reason through this. Riding…like sitting on someone’s face? So, oh… Heat flares up Dahlia’s cheeks as the meaning hits her; definitely inappropriate. Very inappropriate. She covers the opossum’s ears, as if to protect the innocent being from the filth, meanwhile her own ears are burning.

“Addie…”

“I know, I know,” Adelaide waves her hand dismissively, “but you know what they say, the pussy wants what it wants.”

“Not sure that’s the saying.” Pratt laughs

Dahlia raises an eyebrow before looking down at the opossum in her arms as if the little critter could answer her unasked question. Instead, its doe eyes just stare up at her. What cats have to do with Adelaide wanting to fuck John Seed is beyond Dahlia’s comprehension.

“You alright over there, hun?”

“Don’t worry about her,” Pratt dismisses Adelaide’s concern, “she’s probably just wondering what cats have to do with anything.”

“Oh lord.”

“How did you know?” Dahlia whispers, wide-eyed at Pratt, only getting a throaty laugh in response.

“How old are you again, sweetie? Pussy, vagina, cunt; what’s between your legs. Well, maybe not yours, I ain’t got a chance to check y-”

“I would like to change the subject!” Dahlia blurts out; face feeling like it’s been set on fire and no doubt a vivid flush a red. Adelaide’s little grin and Pratt’s laughter only serving to make her face more crimson.

“Well…if we’re on the subject of faces I wanna ride, the Ryes are having their barbecue next Saturday, you and Hudson gonna make it out?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I’ll be seeing you then, Pratt, and hopefully you too, junior deputy. I gotta call my remodeling guys.”

They say goodbyes and wave off Adelaide, going back to the patrol car. Dahlia cuddling her new opossum friend as she goes. This is her baby now and will comfort her through humiliation at the hands of Hope County’s sex perverts.

“What are you doing?” Pratt asks, when Dahlia opens the car door.

“What do you mean?”

“Fuckin’, put the opossum down!”

“No.”

“You’re not bringing that thing into the car.”

“I’m not abandoning my child.”

“It’s literally a wild animal.”

“It’s a opossum, not a bear, calm your tits,” Dahlia tells him firmly, opening the door and plopping down with her critter in her lap. Pratt groans and jumps in the driver side.

“So, what, you’re gonna take it home and make it a pet?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“You know how some stations have like animals and stuff?”

“You mean K-9 units, trained dogs? You wanna train a fuckin’ opossum?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” she rolls her hand flippantly, “I’m not gonna train her, she’s perfect the way she is.”

“Have fun getting the sheriff on board with this, that thing could be rabid for all you know.”

“Opossums don’t carry rabies; like they physically can’t have rabies.”

“Okay, fuckin’, opossum expert.”

Dahlia spends a mile or two, just watching out the window at the world passing by as she scratches at her new friend’s ears. Passing by a sign for Rye and Son’s Aviation, she remembers the conversation with Adelaide.

“Who’re the Rye’s?” She turns her head towards Pratt, head cocking to the side in curiously.

“Huh? Oh, they’re a couple who live not too far from Falls End. They have these big barbecues that basically the entire county shows up to; everyone brings some food, it’s a whole thing.”

“That’s nice.”

“You should come.”

“I don’t know them.”

“It’s open invitation, you live in Hope County, cook some food, show up. It’ll be fun.”

“Just like the F.A.N.G Center?” She raises an eyebrow

“Well, if you don’t freak out and run off halfway through, yeah, things can be fun.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” She rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at Pratt.

Side eyes and double takes are taken at Dahlia as she walks into the station carrying a opossum. Dahlia just nuzzles her face against the top of the opossum’s head as they reach the office, plopping down in her chair and propping her feet up on her desk. Pratt walks past with his lunch and Dahlia grabs a handful of apple slice off his plate; making the older deputy stop and glare at her.

“Can I help you?”

“I gotta feed her.” Dahlia shrugs, letting the opossum munch on one of the slices of fruit.

“Feed her your lunch.”

“My lunch is an energy drink and a twinkie.” She ate the last of the lunches Caroline sent with her; an empty fridge and a sink full of Tupperware waiting for her at home.

“How the hell are you still alive?”

“The world’s too cruel to end my misery.”

“Jesus fuck,” he rolls his eyes, “calm it down, Hot Topic.”

“What are you doing, Rook?” Heat zings up Dahlia’s cheeks when she hears Hudson’s voice and sudden fear that being the weird opossum girl might not be what she wants.

“Is that a fuckin’ rat?” A guy next to her, dressed in the standard officer uniform asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Feeding...opossum…Who are you?”

“Rook, this is Brennan, he’s one of our officers, Brennan this is-”

“The rookie deputy, I know, I’m officer Beau Brennan, nice to meet ya,” he says, extending a hand and she moves the opossum to properly shake it. Beau Brennan, possibly the most southern sounding name she’s ever heard, especially this far up North.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“But, uh, Rook,” Hudson looks at Dahlia, “should you really be bringing a wild animal into the station?”

“Maybe not...she’s friendly, though.”

“So, Joey questions you and she has a point,” Pratt swings his hand in an angry gesture, “but I do it and I get mocked?”

“Yes.”

“Well, why don’t you tell Joey, how you want the opossum to be the station pet?”

“Do you?” Joey raises an eyebrow at Dahlia, the younger deputy’s face turning a deeper shade of scarlett.

“...yes..”

“If you want the thing so bad, why not just take it home as your own pet?”

“That’s what I was asking!” Pratt butts in.

“Five seconds ago, you were asking how the hell I kept myself alive, you want me in charge of keeping something else alive?”

“She’s got you there,” Hudson looks back to Dahlia, mirth lighting up those olive green eyes, “what's her name gonna be?”

Dahlia suddenly has no coherent thought in her head. Just cricket noises as she realizes she’s never actually named an animal in her life. Every time she’s ever had a pet or something close to one, she just refers to it by species or someone else names it. The cat’s name is cat, dog’s name is dog.

“....Opossum…?”

“Not how names work,” Hudson pets behind the opossum’s ear, “Petunia?”

“Petunia, it is,” Dahlia flusters to say grinning, she’s actually okay with this, Hudson doesn’t mind the weird opossum girl.

“Why are you encouraging her!?”

“‘Cause it’s annoying you.”

“I think the girls have you outnumbered, Staci.”

“Staci?” Dahlia looks over at Pratt, is that his first name? She’s never actually heard it before. His face completely falls, hazel eyes harsh and angry.

“Shut up.”

“Your name is Staci, oh my god.”

“Spelled with an ‘i’,” Beau adds, grinning as Dahlia starts cackling.

“Oh my god, you have a sorority girl name!”

“Laugh it up, you know when Whitehorse comes back, you’re gonna have to say goodbye to your new friend.”

“Eh, it’s Rook, so he won’t mind much,” Joey says, shrugging her shoulders.

“Huh?”

“You don’t know?” Brennan raises an eyebrow at her, “everyone knows that the sheriff is soft on you. Been hardly a week and it’s like he’s adopted you.”

Her cheeks hurt from grinning, Whitehorse sees her like his own child? She knows she’s lucky to even have gotten the job; let alone the way he’s been going the extra mile to make her feel at place here. But knowing he may see her like family lights up her heart. The sheriff already reminded her of Lloyd before, but hearing that cements the comparison.

“Dear god, if you were a dog, your tail would be wagging,” Pratt-Staci, grumbles as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It's cute,” Brennan defends her, “we don’t even need a canine unit with her around. Ow!”

Brennan jumps when Dahlia kicks him in the shin, hard enough to bruise she’s hoping. Hudson and Pratt laugh. Petunia is content and nuzzling into Dahlia’s neck as the four shoot the shit, the topic of the Rye barbecue coming up. Hudson and Brennan both plan on being there as well. Dahlia finds herself sinking deeper into her chair, holding Petunia closer. Taking her phone from her pocket and checking the notifications on John’s little video. Other than someone claiming he looks familiar and another person saying he’s hot; it’s mostly more taunts.

“What’s going on here?” Whitehorse’s voice cuts through the chatter, the sheriff coming through and spotting the gathered deputies and officer. His eyes landing on Petunia within a second, “Rook?”

“Yeah?” She scrolls past someone using a gif of John’s light up yes sign as a reaction gif.

“Why are you holding a opossum?”

“She likes being held.” She doesn’t bother looking up from the phone.

“She?”

“Her name’s Petunia.”

“You can’t have a opossum.”

“She’s the station opossum.”

“Rook,” Whitehorse sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, “just go put her outside.”

“So, she’s an outside station pet?”

“I don’t care as long as she’s outside.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Dahlia says, finally looking up and grinning ear to ear. Whitehorse shakes his head and just waves her off before going into his office, no doubt looking for some Tylenol or Aspirin at this point.

“That’s it,” Pratt lets out a heavy exhale, shaking his head at Dahlia.

“Told ya, soft on Rook.”

“I’m gonna take Petunia outside, to her new home.”

“Do you think she’ll stay around?” Hudson asks, as her and Pratt follow after Dahlia, towards the little lot of land behind the department.

“If I keep feeding her, she should, right?”

“I’m gonna have to start bringing two lunches, aren’t I?”

“Nah, you don’t wanna overfeed her.”

“Hilarious.”

The wind is blowing just a bit; breezing by and shifting the grass around them. The sun starting to set as the evening arrives. Petunia licks her cheek and then runs up on Dahlia’s shoulder, little hands grabbing at her skin as she clambers up onto her head; curling up like she belongs there.

“Pffft,” Hudson sputters out a laugh, “look this way, Rook.”

Dahlia faces Joey, grinning with the apples of her cheeks flushing red. The older deputy has her phone out and snaps a photo of Dahlia with Petunia perched on her head. She’s not sure why the moment is worth catching, but she’s glad it was.

“Send that to me, if you don’t mind…” Dahlia asks as she puts Petunia down in the grass.

“No problem,” she taps away and Dahlia feels her phone buzz, “and don’t worry I’ll send it to you, too, Pratt.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“Didn’t have to.”

Dahlia sits down on the ground, petting Petunia as the sun sets. As always Hudson and Pratt leave that evening for the Spread Eagle, she catches Brennan talking about going to the Hollyhock Saloon with some fellow officers before she leaves. Everyone has their friend group, their routine. And it’s time for her own; going home to an empty trailer.

And an empty fridge, she remembers. Oh god, she has to go shopping doesn’t she? It’s a break in the monotony but she’s not sure it’s a welcomed one. She also has to do dishes at some point…and laundry… Adulting sucks.

There’s a little family owned market in the Henbane River region; just a bit more to it than the general store in Falls End. The fluorescent lights irritate her eyes as she pulls off her helmet to look around. Never the cooking type; Dahlia’s hoard comprises of things that don’t require more than a microwave to prep. Frozen meals, snacks, and absolute garbage pile high in her cart as she scours the shelves for more. This might get her through for a week.

Her phone buzzes, another Twitter notification, she’s sure someone else reacting to the Eden’s Gate commercial. She tugs her phone from her pocket; just like she thought a Twitter notification, but the message beneath it catches her eye. A text from Hudson, where she sent the photo of Dahlia and Petunia. The young deputy hasn’t gotten around to opening it; mind preoccupied. She opens the message.

Dahlia doesn’t take pictures of herself and has never been particularly enthralled with her own appearance. But, she likes this photo of her. Petunia is perched on her head, dark eyes warm and soft. The evening sun setting behind Dahlia illuminates her in golden light; dark hair mussed, brown eyes lighting up amber where the light hits, and a wide grin on her face.

Beneath the photo is a message from Hudson captioning it;

‘cant tell who looks better here’

Heat makes it way up to her hairline. Is…did Hudson call her cute? She’s comparing Dahlia to Petunia, a opossum, both Petunia specifically and opossums in general are cute. So if Hudson’s saying Dahlia’s looks are on par with a opossum; does Hudson mean she’s cute? But, not everyone thinks opossums are cute… Some people think they’re gross little trashy goblins, does Hudson think she looks like a trash goblin? She seemed to like Petunia, but just cause she was nice to the animal doesn’t mean she thinks opossums are cute. Dahlia leans her forehead against the freezer section for a moment; letting a turkey meal cool her flushed face as she forces herself to not agonize over this.

A few deep breathes and a concerned passerby make Dahlia straighten back up, getting her bearings before heading to self-check-out. She quickly rings up her items and bags them, leaving the market with her grocery bags in tow.

“Leave me alone…please…” A soft demure voice whispers, a woman about Dahlia’s age stands beside the road a man towering over her with a beet red face. The smell of liquor coming off him on the wind. His hand is wrapped tightly around her wrist, her skin indenting under his grasp as she tries to fold in on herself to avoid his touch.

“Wh-what, you scared daddy Joe’ll call you a sinner for spending some time with me?”

The stench of alcohol wafts off his breath with every drunken slur; even at a distance, the smell churns her stomach. She drops her bags on the cement and makes a beeline towards them, she needs to keep this from escalating, or someone will get hurt.

“Leave me alone!” The girl’s voice shakes as she tries to pry herself from the man’s grasp.

“Fuckin’ peggie whore!”

“Hey!” Dahlia yells out and runs as his other hand starts to raise and pull back.

She gets between them just in time to feel the crack of his hand striking her face. An ache and echo of pain rings through her jaw; a metallic taste where her cheek scraped the inside of her jaw. Glassy eyes widen, the man shocked at the interruption.

“Wh-who-”

“I’m a deputy with the Sheriff’s Department, and unless you want some jail time for assault, I recommend you get the fuck out of here.”

“Pssh,” he scoff, whiskey scented spittle spraying into the air, “li-”

“I’m giving you to the count of three to get out of my sight, sir. One,” she leans into his space, glaring him down and sneering as she counts, “two, th-“

“F-fine, fine, fuckin’ bitch.”

He makes a dismissive hand gesture as he grumbles a curse, but he stumbles away, leaving the two girls alone. Dahlia rubs absent mindedly at her cheek before turning towards the girl; a peggie, he called her. One of the followers of Eden’s Gate. She’s beautiful, five or so inches taller than Dahlia, with long black hair falling in waves down her shoulders. Delicate fine facial features, the deputy can’t help but feel the girl’s face might have shattered has it been struck. Like the handful of peggies she’s seen, traces of tattoos and markings are on her. ENVY etched across her chest and a delicate tattoo of vines with blue flowers curling up her forearm.

“Are you okay?” Dahlia asks her.

“Oh yes, yes, I’m fine, but are you?”

The girl reaches out, fingers nearly brushing over Dahlia’s cheek. She instinctively ducks back, avoiding the touch. Strangers touching her is never something she’s been fond of, though she can’t imagine many people are.

“I’ve taken worse from better; I’ll be fine. You be careful and have a safe night, ma’am.” Dahlia nods at her and makes the quick walk to her abandoned groceries and bike.

She stoops down and begins to collect the food that fell from her bags. A pair of slender hands join in, helping gather up a bag of microwave meals for her, the girl offering it to Dahlia once it’s secure.

“Thanks,” Dahlia murmurs, taking it from the stranger, stashing her groceries in the little storage space under her motorcycle’s seat.

“It’s the least I can do…I’ve never seen you before.”

“I started here about a week ago.”

“Really, that’s incredible…The Lord placed you here at the exact right time.”

“Nah, I just needed groceries,” Dahlia shrugs, “well, hope you have a nice night.”

“Wait,” she knots a hand in the deputy’s shirt, “I’m Layla…”

“Nice to meet you,” Dahlia offers, Layla’s dark brown eyes are darting around, avoiding eye contact.

“I…was on my way to a sermon at Father Joseph’s church and-”

“Look, Layla, if you need my help just say the word. But, if this is the beginning of a conversion spiel; save your breath and my time, ‘cause it ain’t happening.”

“I don’t feel safe, going there alone, right now. What if he comes back?” Her arms cross over herself, the thin cardigan not doing much to protect her from the night chill.

“Oh, uh, you don’t have anyone who can go with you? Aren’t religions like, community things?”

“I was gonna walk there by myself, but…”

“Fuckin’ hell, where is it?”

“Up the north bridge, one of the island’s in the middle of the county, it isn’t far.”

“Here,” Dahlia shoves her helmet at Layla, “I got one helmet and if anyone’s brains are splattering on the road, I’d rather they be mine.”

Layla pulls the helmet on over her head, body still shivering. Dahlia shies and shrugs off her leather jacket; it’s only going to get colder on the ride there with wind whipping around. She hands it to Layla who smiles and takes it, pulling the worn black leather jacket on. Oversized on Dahlia and still marginally so on Layla.

“Thank you,” Layla murmurs as Dahlia straddles her bike, then climbs on the back. Dahlia takes in a deep breathe when arms wrap around her midsection, Layla pressing in close to the deputy’s back as she starts the engine. The familiar nature of the touch contrasting with the fact they’re strangers.

As Dahlia makes her way up to the bridge, Layla lifts the visor just a smidge so that she can whisper directions in the deputy’s ear. Once she’s past the bridge coming from the Henbane, the roads have fencing and barbwire, making it nearly impossible to go from the road into the woods on the island. She rides down the winding road, taking a left turn off the paved road onto a beaten path, rounding the corner she sees it.

A cold sweat builds on the back of her neck, heart dropping into her stomach. It’s a collection of small white buildings, dark roofs, with Latin scrawled across some of the buildings; Luxuria, Acedia, and more she’s sure. All of it on a large piece of land, within she can see picnic tables, bundles of white flowers, where they might gather for picnics or barbecues. She pulls her bike to a stop just a distance from the white gate; Church of Eden’s Gate etched in the upper arches.

People are all around, getting out of white trucks and cars, greeting each other with hugs and waves; throwing side eye glances at Dahlia when they notice her. Dogs are barking somewhere; she doesn’t know where from. Layla clambers off the back of Dahlia’s bicycle, pulling off her helmet and handing it back to her.

“Sister Layla,” a deep masculine voice rumbles out, a familiar man standing by the white gates. Tall with a thick dark beard, his deep dark eyes are focused on Dahlia as he speaks to Layla. Theodore is what the other man called him that day when Dahlia caught them stealing from The Spread Eagle. He looks a moment away from ripping the deputy’s head off her shoulders; his shirt dipping in a way that exposes the way PRIDE etches across his chest, crossed out as are all sins the church members wear.

“Brother Theodore, this is-”

“The new deputy, we’ve met, why is she here?”

“I was just getting ready to leave, don’t worry.”

“What,” Layla’s eyes widen and she grasps Dahlia’s arm, “you can’t.”

“I can’t…?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow and shoots a pointed look where Layla’s grabbing her, making the girl let go. Layla’s trying to rope her into this shit, isn’t she?

“You came all this way Deputy, why not just come in, listen to the sermon.”

“Not happening, I already told you, not my scene. Just give me back my jacket, so I can leave, okay?”

“But,” Layla chews her lip, gears in her head turning, “how am I suppose to get home?”

“I saw at least thirty people go in that church, I’m sure someone will be willing to give you a ride home.”

“Oh, uh, I-”

“Brother Theodore, Sister Layla, service will be starting soon!” Someone calls out from within the compound.

“I have to go, I’ll be right back, Deputy!” Layla rushes to say and then runs off towards the church, Dahlia’s jacket still on her shoulders.

“Hey, wait!” Dahlia jogs after Layla, hurrying through the little compound, but the woman vanishes into the steepled church ordained in cross symbols.

She stops, just before entering the door and takes a step back. The crush of boots in dirt echoes beside her before coming to a stop, the looming of someone nearby. Body heat lingering near her side as she looks up at the cross on the topmost steeple of the church.

“You going in?”

“No.”

“Have fun out here,” Theodore tells her, moving to press a heavy hand against the church door.

“Those dogs,” she starts, listening to the barks ringing out around her, “they friendly?”

“Why don’t you go find out?” He leaves her with a smirk, walking into that church.

Dahlia lets out a harsh breath and pushes her hand back through her hair. A breeze pushes through, her t-shirt and thin uniform shirt does nothing to keep out the chill. She’s not leaving without her jacket; her wallet and phone all in the pockets. Music echoes from inside the church as she plops down onto the ground outside it, balancing her helmet on her knees and resting her chin on it.

If your soul has grown weary, and your heart feels tired…

She fidgets with her helmet, chewing her lip. Please let this Joseph guy be short winded, she just wants to leave. The entire place sets her on edge, makes her skin crawl and she wants to hide away.

Let the water wash away your sins…

A cool breeze passes by, a soft whipping sound mingling with the singing. She scans the night sky, searching for her favorite and only known constellation, she has a feeling she’s going to be here a while…

#far cry 5 #fc5 #this is love #Dahlia Hale

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kathiemnq · 5 years

Text

Coffee Break

Title: Coffee Break Group: BTS Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader Genre: Fluff Type: Photo-based snippet Requested: No

Note: Omg this is my first BTS scenario. I don’t know why I’m quite nervous about posting this. I want Mother Earth to gobble me up ugh huhuhu.

This is quite crappy though because it’s been a while since I wrote something (I was busy for my thesis and I still am). I just needed a little mental exercise so that’s why I wrote this. Aaahhh, spare me! It’s my first time writing a BTS fanfic snippet.

By the way, this is in reader’s POV. *hides*

It was one of the rare privileges that I had: spending time with my boyfriend even though both of us were working. I decided to work inside his studio of our shared apartment even though I had my own office. He had a day off but he still decided to work on his music as always, and I—being a fashion designer and having my own clothing line—had some emails that need urgent responding and had some new ideas to work on.

I was sitting on his couch with my laptop on his coffee table, silently scrolling through my email inbox and clicking the emails that needed urgent responses. My hands immediately went to the keyboard and started typing my replies. The loud sounds my keyboard typing filled the quiet studio. I was normally fast at typing, and an aggressive one at that (as what my mom would say and would even complain that one day, one of my keyboard keys would fly off).

It didn't even take long for me to hear Yoongi clicking his mouse, probably arranging some instrumentals of his another song. Just as much as I was fast at typing my replies, he was also quick on arranging music. I'd say he was a prodigy, like he was definitely born and destined to create music. And that's what made me fall in love with him. He was an inspiration and a role model for people especially who're passionate about their dreams like me.

Another click from his mouse was heard and immediately, a demo music blasted through his speakers. Both of us just casually listened to it; Yoongi just leaning back to his computer chair while I just continued reading and responding to emails regarding about the design projects that are due two weeks from now. I took my bullet journal that was on top of my portfolio designs beside my laptop and started scribbling my schedule for next week.

Seeing how much I was going to be busy, I sighed, a habit I’ve always done whenever I'm frustrated. I felt Yoongi's gaze on mine but I didn't pay any attention to it and just continued answering emails. I opened another website and booked my flight to London next week because my boss had messaged me that I needed to run some errands (which was just going to a company factory to check some progress). I sighed once again, out of habit. It was going to be a busy week, next week.

Yoongi suddenly started rapping the lyrics he scribbled in his little notebook, then pausing the song halfway to hunch over his table and scribble some changes or adding the missing words in between. Then I heard him dropping his pen on the table and started playing the song again. I unknowingly closed my eyes and listened to his raps. If there was one word to describe Yoongi's rapping, it's versatile. One moment, he'd be breathing fire with his aggressive raps then the next, it would be extremely laid-back and chill. Currently, it was the latter. And I could seriously listen to it the whole day.

Well, if it weren't for a notification that rang on my phone. I was snapped out of my reverie and I immediately opened the notification. I groaned louder than intended, once again out of habit. One of the newbie assistant designers of my clothing line business had messed up and I had to fix it somehow. I sighed and dropped my phone on the sofa. I closed my laptop and leaned on the back rest as I stared at the ceiling. For the umpteenth time, I sighed out of habit.

"Babe?" Yoongi called, pausing the music, "Are you okay? You seemed more stressed than I am."

I sat up straight and looked at him, giving him a wry smile, "I'm fine,"

He raised his eyebrow, "You don't look fine," he stated a matter-of-fact and that's when I knew I couldn't hide it from him. It was his turn to sigh now as he stood up from his seat. He then grabbed his black jacket that was hanging on the backrest of his computer chair, "You look like you need some caffeine. Come, we'll talk this over coffee."

"But what about your work?"

Yoongi said my name, prolonging the last vowel of my name in a slightly frustrated tone. "Work can wait, both yours and mine. For now, let's take a break. We could both use one, you especially."

"I can't say 'no' to you, can I?" I chuckled as I stood up from his couch.

"You can't because I'm irresistible." Yoongi confidently declared and I jokingly slapped his arm, the both of us laughing afterwards.

We went to our favorite coffee shop that was a ten-minute walk from our apartment. It had a modern vintage ambiance which helped us relax, whether we brought our laptops here to work or just drink coffee leisurely. The smell of grounded coffee wafting through our nose had already eased my tensed emotions. The ceiling lights enclosed in a symmetric and industrial cage design has always satisfied my inner interior designer self. And a coffee shop interior wouldn't be complete without quotes and drawings about coffee hanging on the brick wall.

Yoongi skimmed through the menu and started ordering. He ordered black coffee as always and I told him I wanted mocha latte and strawberry cream puffs. In the process of de-stressing, I always get hungry. But he never complained anyway. He just obliged and insisted that it's his treat even though I could manage to pay for my orders. He always does that and it left me feeling like I'm leeching his money even though I could earn as much for a living.

"I told you, you're not leeching my money." He whispered after taking his change from the cashier and putting it in his wallet. Did my facial expression looked that transparent to the point that he could read my mind? "I'm treating you like how a girlfriend should be treated by his boyfriend."

My heart fluttered. He was too sweet and I don't deserve him.

He pulled me to our usual seat by the window where we could enjoy the view of the sky and the city while having long talks as we waited for our order to arrive. As soon as the both of us sat on the comfy cushioned seats, Yoongi started talking...or more like interrogating.

"So, what's stressing you out lately?"

"Work, as usual," I answered.

"Please be more specific."

"Well," I began then sighed. Here we go. Once I started rambling, there's no stopping me now, "It's just that I have a hectic schedule next week, with all of the designing projects and stuff. I'm going to fly over another country because of some errands, then there's a slight conflict that happened with a newbie assistant designer in my business,"

Somewhere along my rants, a waiter had arrived, carrying our orders. He set our coffees first then he gave me my strawberry cream puffs next. Yoongi and I muttered a small but genuine 'thank you' to the waiter and he bowed in return. As soon as he left, Yoongi took a sip of his black coffee as I resumed rambling.

"It's not that it's quite stressful, I mean we always have those. But, it's just that I won't be home next week—two weeks to be exact—because I'll be flying all over the world just for some business errands and you'll have your comeback weeks from now and it's so frustrating that we won't be able to spend some time together. I know it's part of the adulting life where our work schedules will have a conflict with our personal schedules and we couldn't spend time with each other that much but it's quite frustrating because I miss our lazy days just cuddling in bed, watching either romantic, comedy, tragedy, or horror movies, and—"

My rants were halted when I heard Yoongi chuckling...no, laughing. He was laughing at my rambles to the point that his eyes were crinkled into crescent shapes. I puffed my cheeks and glared at him. "Why are you laughing?!"

"Is that it?" He asked in between the chuckles.

"What do you mean 'is that it'?"

"I mean if you wanted to spend some time, all you have to do is ask." He paused and leaned closer, "I can always re-adjust my schedules for you,"

I shook my head, taking the ceramic cup and took a sip of my latte. "You can't do that. You're already as busy as I am. Hell you're even busier than I am."

"It's fine. I can always make time for you,"

"No, Yoongi. I don't want us to reach to the point that we're arguing just because of our hectic schedules," I sighed as I leaned to the backrest of my seat. I took a cream puff and started munching while staring at the view, "Asking to spend some time together, I will sound like a clingy girlfriend. I admit, I'm clingy as a koala. I just don't wanna go back to work with my energy drained because I didn't get to spend some quality time with my boyfriend.

"It may sound cheesy and cringy but even just a day with you recharges me. The reason why I always look forward to work is because of you, Yoongi. You have no idea how much you've inspired me."

Silence wrapped the atmosphere...well, not really because the coffee shop was playing some chill music. Yoongi stared at me as he took another sip of his black coffee. I could feel his gaze looking through my soul, and I don't know why I suddenly felt uncomfortable. Maybe it's because we're in public.

"Wow, you're just as workaholic as I am," He commented, breaking the silence between us.

I groaned, "Out of all the things to comment about, Yoongi," I whined and I heard him laugh. But before he could even retort, I sat up and looked straight into his eyes, "I can't blame you though. No matter how stressful it is, once you love your work, you'll always bound to do your best everyday."

"Then I'm in the same boat," He replied as he held my hand and gazed back into my eyes. "You're also the reason why I always look forward to doing my best at work everyday—you and ARMYs to be exact." He added, his thumb caressing my hand. I looked at him and he gave me the sweetest gummy smile he could ever muster.

"Which is why as soon as we finish our coffee break, you and I are going to spend the remaining days, hours, minutes, and seconds together. We'll make every moment worth it."

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identityexcavationstation · 5 years

Text

Week 2: Keeping Ourselves to Ourselves

I’ve been doodling a lot lately. This seems to happen the same way every year: one day in January I wake up knowing how to draw. And because I only do things I’m already good at and always stay in my comfort zone, I start drawing a lot. While I’m resigned to the fact that, eventually, my drawing powers will wane and I will again become a simple civilian who can’t scribble out a figure to save her life, I’m thriving right now. Yesterday, I drew two hands. TWO! And they actually looked like hands. Ah the wonder and mystery of youth.

Look at these suckers! Nails and everything! God I’m talented.

These recent doodling days have brought to the surface a lot of questions about my process and the (big) difference between my public-facing work and the art I do just for myself. I post on Instagram very rarely—once a month, maybe—because I want to share only the best stuff, the work I feel a.) done with, b.) proud of, and c.) ready to share. (Turns out that’s not a lot of work.) But I create a lot more stuff than I ever share with the internet, my friends, or my mom. While I do get stuck in my head quite a lot (if you’re an avid reader of this blog, you know this... as if there are any avid readers of this blog lmao), I also constantly need to be making and moving to prove to myself that my presence on Earth is justified.

One of the ways this manifests is in my journaling practice. I began seriously journaling (where “seriously” means every day, mercilessly, with no breaks) the first day of 2017 and have done so ever since, save the six-month period this year when I was in a really bad place and didn’t want to remember anything I did. That moves into the bigger question of why I do it: you’d think it would be to reflect on my day or whatever, but I’m constantly reflecting on everything I do all the time and it’s frankly so exhausting that it would be easier to not have to sit down and think even more about what I do and why. Put simply, here’s why I journal:

(I need you to pretend those pictures of the Simpson baby are pictures of me when I’m thirty. Just go with it.)

I am my own audience. I always have been. It’s such a no-brainer for me that I often forget there are other people who may one day be seeing and experiencing the things I’m creating. (Last semester, when I was working on my Minor in Writing Capstone project, I had a transcendent, revelatory moment in which I thought, “Huh, I should probably determine my audience for these essays.” The deadline was two weeks away. That’s how deep this thing goes.) When I think about who’s gonna read my journals, it’s my future self. That’s what drives me to be candid and expressive in my writing every night: Future Me needs to know who I am and what I did.

These doodle pages I do in my sketchbook or on handouts or on fifteen Post-It notes at 2am function very much the same way, although the process is much more intuitive. I listen to what I want to make in the moment without judging or questioning why. This is so hard for me to do when I know other people will be seeing my work, but on my own, it becomes this magical headspace I can’t easily replicate on demand. Here are a few examples:

One of the coolest things that happens here is that words just float to the forefront of my mind and I write them down. Song lyrics, questions, fragments... none of it really makes sense to me at the time, but when I go back and look days or weeks later, those words (paired with images) retroactively provide a crystal clear reflection of my emotional state. That first image up there, the one with the hands? I drew a hand and then my brain said, suddenly and without explanation, “The hands are the lips of the arms.” Like, what the actual hell? I still have no idea what that means, but it was begging to be written down, if only for the laughs. And I bet when I come back to it in a few weeks, I’ll know exactly what I was talking about.

I think part of the reason I value this work, why I do it at all, comes from the immense regret I feel for not documenting my teenage years. It’s not just because I’m trying to reconstruct them in retrospect for this project and that’s hard... I think I really missed out on an opportunity to explore my feelings and create a space inside myself devoid of ridicule. I didn’t write poetry and I barely drew because I was too afraid of making something cringy or ugly or emo or “bad.” I thought of all my life, my entire identity, as public-facing—completely vulnerable to scrutiny, in need of constant defense.

That’s one of the most challenging (and exciting!) parts of my project: I’m trying to publicize my own private life in a way that still feels private, personal, borderline voyeuristic. It’s true that my book will be inspired by the form and function of the yearbook, a highly public and social object. But I’m attempting to juxtapose the preconception of the yearbook as a document created specifically for public consumption with all of this personal stuff—“stuff” being both narrative/conceptual and visual/physical. In short, I’m creating public-facing documentation of personal identity and experience using private ephemera, things that my protagonist (i.e. me) thinks no one will ever see.

The most complex and worrisome part of all of this is the layers of inauthentic manufacturing I’m doing when it comes to visual documentation. (Part of my point is that adolescent identity is highly manufactured and constantly policed by society and the inner self, so I guess it’s fitting and meta and all that, but it sure as hell isn’t comfy!) I’m trying to recreate private creative documentation processes, like the ones I use in my journals and sketchbooks, with the full knowledge that this work will be seen, consumed, and critiqued by strangers. I have to think about how to make people care about both my personal experience as a teenage girl and the broader subject of identity in female adolescence. On top of that, I’m burdened with the rights, feelings, and privacy of the other “characters” in my story, the people I knew and loved and lost when I was fifteen. Deep down, I know that my memory and perception of others’ adolescent identity is just a funhouse mirror reflection. But how much of their teenage selves would these individuals be willing to share with the whole world, if given the choice?

Everything is so much simpler when the only audience I answer to is me.

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bensbuttercup · 6 years

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Home (one shot)

Okay so.. this is for Claire’s 1k writing challenge @the-claire-bitch-project

I chose the polyamorous relationship prompt and I spent a hell of a long time writing and editing this so I hope it’s good

Word Count: 7,872

Pairings: Shawn x OC x Tom x OC x Harrison

Warnings: Swearing and Smut

“Good morning.” Shawn smiled over his mug. He had on a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips, his dark curls fell into his eyes as he sipped his coffee. He had been up for the past three hours but hadn’t yet found a need to get dressed after his morning workout and shower.

“Mornin’.” A tired voice filled the kitchen. Shawn felt a smile grow on his face as he set his mug down to pick up the blue and purple one. He handed it to Reagan who leaned up to kiss Shawn’s cheek, a few loose curls tickling Shawn’s skin in the process.

“Haz up yet?” Shawn asked as he went to check on the breakfast he and Phoebe had made. The heat of the oven flushed his cheeks and Shawn pulled away to look at Reagan with red cheeks.

“He’s in the bathroom yeah.” Reagan replied sipping her coffee before walking over to Shawn.

“Pheebs is in the shower.” Shawn mumbled as he felt Reagan’s arms wrap around his middle. Reagan placed a few kisses along his left shoulder before humming in acknowledgement.

“I heard the water running when I walked past, knew it was probably her.” Regan nodded.

“How were classes last week?” Shawn asked as Reagan rested her forehead against her shoulder.

“Long, it’s the first few weeks back just getting used to it again.” Reagan mumbled against the skin of Shawn’s shoulder. Reagan was a Physical Chemistry major, and oftentimes the workload was heavy and strenuous. “Last year all of you were home when we went back so it was easier to stay grounded and motivated.” Reagan added. “That and physics sucks.” She finished with.

“Physics?” Shawn asked. Reagan nodded when she felt Shawn’s voice vibrate as he spoke.

“Yeah, gotta take physics this year, you know physical chemistry?” Shawn laughed lightly and nodded. Reagan smiled against the warm skin of Shawn’s back. He was always warm, even if it was twenty degrees outside Shawn was warm. That’s why everyone usually wound up cuddling with him in the winter. Under a blanket with Shawn’s body heat it was impossible to be cold.

“Still not so sure about the whole college system. I just listen to you and Pheebs.” Shawn replied. Phoebe was a Public Health Polciy major and would be going to law school for Pubic Health Policy Law following the completion of her degree. Shawn broke away from Reagan’s hold to go pull the breakfast he and Phoebe had made out of the oven and set it on top to cool. “Pheebs doesn't always help though with the college talk. ‘How’s classes?’ ‘Good.’ ‘Any homework?’ ‘Yeah, I’ll be down for dinner.’.” Shawn reenacted a conversation from the night before when Phoebe come home from her last night class for the week.

“We just handle it differently.” Reagan shrugged as she watched Shawn make another pot of coffee. “Another pot?” Reagan asked and Shawn shrugged picking up his own mug again, it was almost empty and Reagan was sure that he would be refilling it. Shawn watched as Reagan grabbed a plate and took a few of the doughnut muffins and the mini quiches out if the trays before finding her way to one of the barstools.

“Me and Phoebe have been up since around six thirty, so our day has been started already.” Shawn leaned against the counter as Reagan sat at the bar, a comfortable silence blanketing the two. It usually occurred in the morning while they waited for Harrison to stumble his way into the kitchen or for Tom to happily bounce down the stairs greeting everyone.

Shawn was in the middle of making his own plate when Harrison finally appeared in the kitchen, his glasses still on and his hair falling into his eyes. “It’s a good day to sleep late.” Harrison smirked taking the silver and yellow mug off the counter. He knew it was made just how he liked it.

“For you it’s always a good day to sleep late.” Phoebe joined the conversation. Everyone turned to watch Phoebe walk into the kitchen. She had half wet hair and was wearing just one of Shawn’s hoodies and underwear.

“Good morning to you too sweetheart.” Harrison mumbled as Phoebe kissed his forehead. Phoebe smiled and ran her fingers through Harrison’s soft hair. “You’re always a joy in the morning.” Harrison added as Phoebe walked away, throwing a smile over her shoulder. Phoebe picked up her own mug and took a long sip.

“She’s a real joy before she has her coffee.” Shawn mumbled around a bite of the cinnamon and sugar muffin in his hand.

“So is Tom.” Reagan smiled as the brunette made his way into the Kitchen. “That’s my sweater?” Reagan said as more of a question, jestering to the sweater Tom had on. Tom’s bleary brown eyes looked at the sweater before shrugging.

“Looked comfy and it was on my floor so it was fair game.” Tom shrugged as Phoebe handed him his mug from the counter.

“Can’t we just establish that we’re all a little bitchy before there’s caffeine in our systems?” Phoebe huffed before taking food of her own and pushing herself up on to the counter. She easily slid up on to the marble and was met with smiled and one hard face when she looked around the kitchen.

“I hate it when you sit up there.” Harrison mumbled and Phoebe shrugged taking Shawn’s fork to use. Phoebe took a bite of the mini quiche on her plate and swallowed before speaking.

“I hear it everyday, and thank you cake pop.” Phoebe smiled as Shawn rolled his eyes. Shawn opened the silverware draw and grabbed a new fork knowing that the fight to get his original one back wasn’t worth it.

“Can you please get off of there?” Harrison tried again. Phoebe smiled and continued happily eating her breakfast, as if she hadn’t heard Harrison. “We’ve established that it’s not safe Pheebs. Please?” Phoebe shook her head before making a point of crossing her legs and sitting up straighter on the counter.

“It’s like three feet up-” Phoebe was met with a hard look from Harrison. “Fine, maybe four, but to be fair I sit up here all the time and never hurt myself.” When Phoebe finished speaking Harrison looked even more angry but Tom’s voice chipped in.

“To be fair she’s going to be arguing for a living.” Tom smiled sitting at the table with Harrison.

“Tommy knows!” Phoebe spoke and gave Tom an air high-five before she and Tom went back to eating.

“Don’t worry about her.” Shawn brushed off Phoebe as if it happened every day. Well it did happen just about every day, but sometimes it wasn’t worth the fight, just like Shawn’s fork. Harrison sighed and shook his head when Reagan went to put her plate in the sink. Afterwards Reagan moved to wrap her arms around Harrison’s neck from behind.

“She just enjoys making you mad.” Reagan mumbled leaving a kiss under Harrison’s ear.

“Yeah, just gets under my skin a little bit sometimes.” Harrison closed his eyes as Reagan let her lips trail down his neck a little bit. Harrison was lost in the feeling of Reagan’s Luis against his skin until a voice snapped him out of his head.

“Ew disgusting PDA.” Phoebe's voice filled the kitchen again. Harrison audibly groaned when he heard her voice causing Reagan to laugh against his skin. It sent shivers up his spine which caused Reagan to laugh even harder, her face falling to the crook of his neck. A few loose curls tickled Harrison’s neck but he pushed them out of the way to look at Phoebe. She sat perched on the counter with a proud smile as Shawn walked over to her.

“You have been a pain since you woke up this morning.” Shawn pulled Phoebe to the edge of the counter and stood between her legs. Phoebe took advantage of them being at the same height for the time being and leaned in to kiss Shawn briefly. If Shawn ever wanted kissing the girls to be easy he would often place them on the counter, or sometimes Reagan even did it with Tom.

“That’s my job. Resident pain in the ass.” Phoebe smiled as she tried to wiggle out of Shawn’s grasp. Shawn held Phoebe’s hips in his large hands as she slid off of the counter and on to the floor, her empty plate in her hands.

“Go get dressed please. We need to go to the store.” Shawn told Phoebe as she put her own plate in the skin.

“Okay dad!” Phoebe responded as she bounced back up the stairs to her room. After she had left Shawn took a deep breath and closed his eyes as Tom laughed from his place at the table.

“Good to be back in the madhouse.” Tom spoke with a large smile. Harrison just shook his head while Reagan continued to laugh into his neck.

Tom had been gone for filming the past three weeks and with Shawn doing festivals the house had felt rather empty. Phoebe and Reagan had just started classes again which made traveling with the boys harder than over the summers. Harrison had just wrapped filming for Catch-22 and stopped in london briefly to be with Tom for some filming. After that he returned back to California to be home with the girls while Shawn finished the remainder of his appearances and festivals. No one was ever lonely, but it was hard to have everyone together when schedules got busy.

The five had not been together all at once for more than a two days in nearly two months. With Tom’s two week break beginning, the five were ready to settle down for a couple weeks out of the public eye. The night before they had spent hours around the pool and fire pit with take out, just syncing back into their normal dynamic. Their relationship had always felt natural, and the five never had a need to explain themselves. They had never confirmed their relationship, they just existed and let the public come up with their own theories. It went from simple hanging out at someone’s apartment to Shawn and Tom bringing everyone to premiers or events. A few months later swirling rumors of relationships, breakups and cheating never seemed to impact the five as they moved into the large Hollywood Hills home.

“I forgot that you haven’t been home in weeks.” Harrison mumbled as Reagan took a piece of one of his mini muffins and popped it into her mouth.

“We haven’t seen Tom in almost a month.” Reagan said as she went to make Harrison and Tom another plate, wanting to make sure they ate enough. She knew the out both of them on diets for filming and now she had to feed them both again.

“I’m just glad to be home.” Tom smiled brightly as Reagan kissed his cheek, placing his plate back in front of him.

“I’m glad he’s home too.” Phoebe’s voice was heard as she entered the kitchen again. She was tying her hair into a ponytail as she walked, tripping over the molding on the floor separating the kitchen and foyer.

“You’re clumsy.” Harrison teased Phoebe pulling her into him as she walked by. Phoebe nodded and leaned down to kiss him.

“So are Shawn and Reagan babe.” Phoebe added as Harrison let go of her.

“I said get dressed. Not just put on shorts and sneakers.” Shawn smoothed a hand down his face as Phoebe looked over her outfit. She had on Shawn’s Hufflepuff hoodie still, but now added jean shorts and converse. Her white converse had yellow giraffe socks peeking out of the top, as they usually were accompanied by odd socks.

“She looks fine!” Harrison gave shawn a pointed look. Phoebe smiled at Harrison as she picked up the remaining empty plates and started putting the dishes from the sink in the dishwasher.

“You’re cleaning up what did you do?” Shawn asked looking at Phoebe. Phoebe just shrugged and rolled the sleeves of Shawn’s hoodie up to her elbows so they didn’t get wet.

“She knows that she was a brat earlier.” Reagan got up to refill her coffee and slapped Phoebe’s ass on the way past.

“One ouch.” Phoebe reached back to smooth a hand over her shorts. “Two I was not a brat! You all are just grumpy until noon because you get up too late!” Phoebe reached behind her to cover her butt when Shawn walked past her knowing he often did the same thing Reagan did.

“You’re too jumpy.” Tom laughed at Phoebe when she moved her hands away from her behind.

“No! I just know those two too well.” Phoebe responded as Shawn gave Phoebe a small smirk.

“What’s that look for?” Harrison asked Shawn who was eyeing Phoebe carefully. “Poor girl is going to be paranoid all day now.”

“Good!” Reagan mumbled. Harrison rolled his eyes and pulled Reagan into his lap. He kissed the side of her neck before Shawn spoke.

“Pheebs just isn’t used to having everyone who doesn’t tolerate her attitude home at once. That and she hasn’t had Tom home to egg her on recently.” Shawn mumbled and Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Thought we were going shopping.” Phoebe mocked Shawn as he sighed deeply. Shawn went to pulled Phoebe into him when Reagan interrupted him.

“Shawn leave her alone, she’s doing it on purpose. Just you go get dressed.” Reagan waved Shawn out of the kitchen as Harrison continued leaving kisses along her neck. “Actually why don’t we all go get dressed?”

“It usually wakes all of you up a little bit more.” Phoebe added as she closed the dishwasher. Tom groned before standing up and following Shawn up the stairs. Phoebe busied herself putting the milks and sugars from everyone making coffee away as Reagan and Harrison also got up making their way upstairs.

“Help me pick an outfit out?” Harrison turned around to face Reagan who just nodded and wordlessly followed Harrison to his room. Reagan sat on Harrison’s bed as she watched him thumb through his closet.

Reagan walked over to Harrison and wrapped her arms around his waist leaving a few kisses up the side of his neck again. “Bandana and jeans with a white shirt, maybe throw a flannel on.” Reagan mumbled finishing with a kiss under the shell of Harrison’s ear.

“You really can’t just walk over here and do that to me.” Harrison shivered involuntary under Reagan’s touch. Reagan smirked and continued kissing back down Harrison’s neck until she reached the spot behind his pulse point. Harrison quickly jumped away with a smile, shaking his head. “Later. Gotta get dressed doll.” Harrison cleared his throat.

“Later.” Reagan repeated lifting Harrison’s chin up gently before kissing him. It was soft and love filled, both smiling into it before pulling away. Reagan kissed Harrison once more before retreating to her own room to get dressed for the day.

When Reagan opened her door she saw Tom in her closet. “What ya up to Tommy?” Reagan hummed. Tom jumped and Reagan laughed as Tom came out of her closet with one of her sweaters.

“Nothing.” Tom turned red and Reagan smiled taking her sweater from his hands.

“Oh come on Tom, you know I love ty when you wear my shit.” Reagan smiled handing him the navy blue sweater again. Tom quickly slid it on over his otherwise bare chest as Reagan walked into her closet herself. “What should I wear today?” Reagan glanced over her shoulder at Tom. Tom thought on it a minute before speaking. “Cropped top and jeans?” Tom asked Reagan. Reagan nodded to herself as she picked out an outfit. She changed in front of Tom whose eyes were on her the entire time. She loved teasing her boys, so she was going to take full advantage of it now that they were all home together.

“You okay Tom?” Reagan asked as she buttoned her jeans.

“Y-yeah. Yeah.” Tom swallowed as Reagan walked over to him. She laughed at Tom’s shocked expression before connecting her lips with his. Tom melted into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Reagan’s neck as she pulled away. Tom let out an audible whine making Reagan laughed as she stood up walking out of her room. Tom sat red cheeked on her bed as he wondered how he would get back at her later on in the day. He had been gone for nearly a month and just wanted someone to give him the attention he needed.

“Tonight Tommy!” Regan called from the bathroom down the hall, as if she read his mind. Tom, satisfied with the answer padded to the bathroom himself to finish getting ready.

Phoebe was finishing washing the coffee pot when she felt two hands on her waist. She knew they were Shawn’s and leaned back into his chest. “What do you want to cook tonight?” Phoebe asked as Shawn used his nose to push her head to the side.

“Something laid back?” Shawn asked as he started kissing along Phoebe’s neck. Phoebe let her eyes close as she tilted her head to the side more giving Shawn easier access.

“Pizza pull apart bread?” Phoebe asked as Shawn moved the neck of the hoodie she was wearing out of the way. Shawn hummed against Phoebe’s skin before he pulled away. Phoebe whined when Shawn back completely away from her. He always did that. Just when she got what he wanted he would pull away and leave her wanting more all day.

“Hey none of that.” Shawn mumbled and Phoebe rolled her eyes turning away from Shawn. He gripped Phoebe’s hips before lifting her on to the kitchen counter again. Phoebe sighed and rested her forehead on Shawn’s shoulder as he ran his hands under his hoodie that she was wearing. One of Shawn’s hands covered most of Phoebe’s back and she shivered at how warm he felt on her skin. Shawn laughed lightly and used his other hand to lift Phoebe’s head off his shoulder while the other still laid flat on her back.

Shawn smiled lightly and leaned in to kiss the side of Phoebe’s lips. Phoebe rolled her eyes before moving to brush her lips against Shawn’s. Shawn smiled and moved his lips to Phoebe’s again, the two sinking into the feeling of each other. Phoebe let Shawn take control of the kiss as she moved her hands to thread into the curls on the base of his neck. Shawn groaned when Phoebe tugged gently on his curls, his hands moving their way down her waist to rest right above her ass.

“Hey! Protection!” Reagan’s voice made the two jump apart. “Haz put new condoms in the drawer in the coffee table. Use them!” Reagan added. Phoebe tucked her face into the crook of Shawn’s neck and Shawn laughed lightly as Reagan walked over and kissed him gently.

“You embarrassed her again.” Shawn laughed lightly letting his hands rub Phoebe’s back in slow circles. Phoebe sunk further into Shawn’s hold trying to relax her nerves.

“Again-” Reagan laughed lightly running a hand through Phoebe’s hair. Phoebe didn’t protest the touch as Reagan spoke again. “She loves it.” Phoebe felt her blush grow and tried to tuck further into Shawn when she heard Harrison and Tom enter the kitchen too.

“What’d you do doll?” Harrison asked wrapping his arms around Reagan. Tom walked over to Shawn and Phoebe and jumped up on the counter next to Phoebe, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Oh nothing, just made Phoebe a little red that’s all.” Reagan shrugged turning around in Harrison’s arms. Phoebe lifted her head out of Shawn’s neck kissed his cheek.

“It’s alright.” Phoebe smiled at the others. “Ready Shawn?” She looked up to the boy who was holding her hips in his hands. Shawn nodded before leaning down and placing a final kiss on Phoebe’s lips before helping her off the counter again. Phoebe gave both Tom and Harrison a hug and kiss before walking over to Reagan. Phoebe was only slightly shorter than her but looked a whole lot less intimidating.

“You’re putting the dishes away while I’m gone.” Phoebe huffed before wrapping her arms around Reagan’s neck and kissing her cheek. Reagan laughed and nodded returning the hug before Phoebe walked back over to Shawn who was waiting by the door with his keys. “Anyone want anything specific for dessert?” Phoebe asked as Shawn opened the door.

“Slutty Cheesecake Bars!” Tom.

“S’mores Bars!” Reagan. “Crumb cake!” Harrison. “You!” At the last one Phoebe turned around to glare at Shawn who had a smirk set across his face. Shawn’s comment was met with a shocked expression from Tom and cheers of ‘get it!’ and ‘yes Shawn!’ from Harrison and Reagan.

“Now you’re lucky if you sleep in my room tonight.” Phoebe told Shawn with a straight face. Shawn laughed and wrapped a hand around Phoebe’s shoulders as he led her outside to his Jeep.

“Pool?” Was the first word out of Tom’s moth after the front door closed. He looked to Reagan for her answer and when the curly haired girl nodded Tom smiled before bouncing upstairs to change.

“He’s always so happy.” Harrison shook his head watching Tom disappear into his room. Reagan nodded and followed Harrison up stairs. Harrison marveled at the way Reagan’s curls bounced so naturally as she moved, they looked so soft and perfectly placed in the natural light of the house.

“You’re staring again.” Reagan mumbled noticing how Harrison had zoned out. Harrison’s blue eyes lost their slight glaze at Reagan’s words and he smiled confidently. “Go get changed Osterfield.” Reagan rolled her eyes before slipping into her own room.

Once the door closed Reagan took a moment to change into a simple black bikini. She also considered braiding it, but knew Harrison loved braiding her hair while they sat by the pool. Instead she opted to pick up a few hair ties before making her way towards the sliding glass doors. Regan noticed that both boys were already in the pool and shook her head as she walked on to the warm concrete.

“Eager?” Reagan asked in a playful tone when both the boys turned to look at her. Tom’s eyes went wide at Reagan’s tone and he looked anywhere but at her eyes. Tom had missed Reagan desperately in the past month but wasn’t up for much teasing from her in the moment.

“Be nice to Tom, he was deprived for a month.” Harrison smiled as he walked out of the pool and over to Reagan, placing a peck on her lips. Harrison went to sit on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool and patted the seat in front of him already knowing what Reagan was going to ask. Reagan walked over and sat cross legged in front of Harrison while he started parting her hair.

“I wasn’t being mean.” Reagan said as she closed her eyes focusing on Harrison’s hands in her hair. “Was I Tommy?” Reagan hummed. She opened one eye to look at Tom through her sunglasses. Tom shook his head as he exited the pool and made his way to Reagan and Harrison. Tom sat down next to Reagan on the foot of the large lounge chair.

“Stop moving god!” Harrison straightened Reagan’s head out again. Reagan rolled her eyes and motined Tom to come closer to her. Tom sat up on his knees and shuffled closer to Reagan who pulled him into her lap.

“Missed you.” Reagan mumbled leaning as far as she could to kiss Tom. Tom responded by covering the small distance Reagan had to strain for and easily settled into the kiss. Harrison shook his head as he let his fingers continue braid Reagan’s hair as she kissed Tom. Reagan hummed happily into the kiss as she let Tom take control for the first time in quite a while. Tom carefully moved his lips down Reagan’s neck to the soft spot of skin where her neck and jaw met and gently bit the skin there. When Reagan took a deep breath, Tom knew he got the reaction he wanted and continued biting and sucking on the skin. A few soft mans falling past her lips from the feeling of Tom’s lips mixed with Harrison’s hands in her hair.

Tom’s mouth continued exploring Reagan's neck as he gently bit and sucked on different areas before soothing it over with his tongue. Harrison finished braiding Reagan’s hair and carefully moved to rest his chin on Reagan’s shoulder, the side that wasn’t currently occupied by Tom. Harrison carefully watched Reagan’s expressions while Tom left hickey’s all over her neck. He decided to start sucking on the other side as Reagan let out another soft moan when Tom moved to her collar bones. “Want us to take care of you?” Harrison hummed into Reagan’s ear.

“Oh f-fuck yes.” Reagan’s voice caught in her throat. Harrison smirked at Reagan’s response and let his hand smooth down her stomach as Tom continued leaving hickeys on her chest and neck. Harrison rested his chin on her shoulder again as he focused on how gently his fingertips brushed over Reagan’s thighs. Reagan spread her legs and opened her eyes looking at Harrison through her sunglasses lenses.

“Harrison Osterfield, I swear all all things good if you do not get your fingers in me soon I will not let you come for-” Reagan’s sentence was cut short when Harrison let his hand slip past the waistband of her bikini bottoms.

“What was that?” Harrison asked brushing a finger through her slick folds.

“Gotta treat Reagan good Haz.” Tom mumbled breaking away from Reagan’s neck. Reagan grabbed Tom’s face and pulled his up to kiss her lips as Harrison slipped a finger easily into her.

“So good. You’re both- so fu-fucking good!” Reagan responded as Harrison added another finger and let his thumb come to rub her clit. Reagan went back to sloppily kissing Tom as Harrison curled his fingers inside of her. Both boys were mesmerized watching the usually more dominant girl fall apart in their hands. However, they knew if they treated her now they would be rewarded later.

“Gonna come on my fingers?” Harrison asked leaving a kiss under Reagan’s ear. Tom broke away from Reagan’s lips to hold open her thighs that she was desperately trying to close. Tom also let his lips fall back to her neck where he continued to leave more marks on the pale skin.

“You’re so close, doll.” Harrison hummed as he started pumping his fingers a little faster and applying more pressure to her clit. Once he felt Reagan start clenching around his fingers and letting out more broken Harrison knew that she was close to her high. “Come on doll, come all over my fingers. Tommy wants a taste.” Harrison spoke lowly. That sent Reagan over the edge and Harrison gently worked Reagan through her orgasm.

Once her thighs stopped shaking tom let them close as Harrison brought his fingers to Tom’s lips. Tom sucked Harrison’s fingers into his mouth and licked them clean before kissing Reagan, letting her taste herself. “Holy shit.” Reagan breathed out looking between the two boys. “Remind me I need to reward you tonight.”

“Of course.” Harrison stood up and held a hand out for Reagan. “Shawn and Pheebs will be back soon, let’s go change.”

“You know that you were a brat earlier right?” Shawn asked Phoebe as they were on their way back to the house from the grocery store. The trip had taken longer than expected with Phoebe wanting to pick of groceries for the next few nights also so they didn’t have to go out again. They had decided on Chicken Alfredo and three bean chili for the next two nights. Phoebe also picked up plenty of ingredients to bake the new few days also.

“Yeah. It comes naturally.” Phoebe shrugged as Shawn turned on to their block. “You enjoy it though. You all do.” Phoebe knew she wasn’t lying when she said that. It’s how the dynamic worked in the house, Reagan, Harrison and Shawn were the ones who would dish out the punishments and rewards for her and Tom. Phoebe often enjoyed it but sometimes she was on the losing end.

“We do.” Shawn nodded turning into their driveway. “Help with the bags?” Shawn asked. Phoebe nodded and walked around to the open trunk to grab as many bags as she could. Shane laughed watching her carry them to the front door and grabbed the couple that were left before locking his car. He opened the door for Phoebe who was waiting for Shawn who had a free hand.

Reagan and Harrison turned around to watch the two walk in while Reagan ran her fingers through Tom’s curls. “Just be quiet.” Reagan pointed to Tom who was asleep in her lap. Shawn made note of the fresh hickeys on Reagan’s neck and knew that he would have to ask about it later. Phoebe smiled softly at how cute Tom was as she walked into the living room to greet Harrison and Reagan. Phoebe leaned down to kiss Tom’s forehead before she moved back to the kitchen to help Shawn put the groceries away.

“Can we go nap after this?” Phoebe asked Shawn who was bent over in the fridge trying to find a place for the pizza dough.

“Yeah, I could use one too.” Shawn nodded as he closed the refrigerator. They had been up since six thirty and with it being nearly two in the afternoon it was considered nap time for the duo.

“My room?” Shawn asked as he closed the refrigerator. Phoebe nodded as she walked back into the living room. Phoebe noticed that Reagan was now also asleep, her head resting on the couch’s arm rest, her hand stilled in Tom’s hair. Phoebe noticed Harrison was still awake and walked over kissing him gently.

“Me and Shawn are heading up to his room for a nap.” Phoebe spoke quietly pulling away. “Come if you want?” It was more of a question than a statement, but Harrison shook his head.

“I might come up in a little while, but go get comfy.” Harrison nodded towards the stairs where Shawn was waiting for Phoebe. Phoebe gave Harrison one last peck before nodding and following Shawn up to his room. Once Shawn closed his door phoebe flopped back on his bed and pulled her shorts off, throwing them somewhere on his floor. Shawn followed suit, stripping down to his sweats and crawling up on the large mattress.

“You comfortable?” Shawn asked as Phoebe curled into his side and rested her head on her chest. Phoebe nodded as Shawn’s hand ran up her wbck and under her hoodie. She left feather light kisses on Shawn’s chest as they both tried to relax from the morning. “Pheebs?”

“Shawn?” Phoebe looked up at Shawn with a small smile as he ran his hand further up her back. Phoebe knew what he was trying to do and arched her back so Shawn could unclasp her bra.

“You know you can’t act like you did earlier.” Shawn hummed helping Phoebe get her bra off completely. The fabric joined her shorts on the floor as Phoebe shrugged.

“You all love it,” was Phoebe’s only response as Shawn continued rubbing her lower back. Shawn nodded before rolling above Phoebe, holding her hands above her head.

“Yeah we do.” Shawn nodded as he leaned down to kiss Phoebe gently. He pulled on her bottom lip with his teeth, earning a while from phoebe before he spoke again. “You love it more though.” Shawn smiled as he bumped his nose against Phoebe’s. Phoebe nodded as she leaned up to kiss Shawn again.

The kiss slowly got more headed and Shawn pulled away from Phoebe and sat up leaning over the bed to grab something. Phoebe’s eyes widened when she saw the two ties Shawn was holding. She swallowed when Shawn sat on his knees in front of her, she knew what he wanted, but she also knew what was in it for her. “You okay with this?” Shawn asked.

“Yeah–” Phoebe nodded. “Yeah.” Phoebe sat up and pulled her hoodie off, leaving her in just her white lace panties. Shawn gently pushed Phoebe back into his bed and kissed her slowly as he tied her first hand to the headboard. As Shawn moved on to the second hand he gently worked his tongue into Phoebe’s mouth, twisting his tongue with hers and pulling it into his mouth.

“Not too tight?” Shawn asked as Phoebe pulled a little at the ties. Phoebe shook her head and Shawn smiled as he leaned down to start kissing from Phoebe’s lips to her neck. Phoebe let a few whines slip out of her lips while Shawn sucked on a particularly sensitive spot where her neck and shoulders met.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Shawn sat up and looked Phoebe in the eyes. “Be good baby girl.” Shawn warned as he started kissing down Phoebe’s chest. Phoebe’s breaths started becoming more labored as she watched Shawn’s hand move to start kneading her left breast. His lips closed around her left nipple and his tongue swirled around it causing Phoebe to arch into his touch. She let out a loud moan when Shawn’s fingers slipped under her panties to run through her wet folds.

“You are soaked baby girl.” Shawn smiled as he moved his fingers to swirl around her clit. Phoebe nodded and felt her breath hitch in her throat when Shawn switched his mouth to her right breast. Carefully Shawn continued to rub Phoebe’s clit until she had almost reached her high before pulling away. Phoebe let out a loud whine at the loss of contact and watched Shawn sit on the foot of the bed until her breathing slowed.

Once Phoebe was breathing at a normal rate Shawn moved back to her. This time he dragged his tongue down her body, from the valley of her breasts down to her belly button. He let his tongue circle her bellybutton a few times before he dragged his across the waistline of her panties. “Shawn please.” Phoebe whined.

“Please what?” Shawn asked as he pulled on the waistband with his teeth, letting it snap back against Phoebe’s skin.

“Please touch me.” Phoebe tried to arch into his touch but Shaw’s large hands held her hips against the bed. “Please let me come. Don’t do this today.” She was almost begging.

“Don’t do what pretty girl?” He hummed as he slowly started pulling her panties down her legs. Phoebe easily let her thighs fall open as Shawn eyed her wet heat. “Last time I checked you gave everyone an attitude this morning. Only good girls get to come.” Shawn said lowly. Phoebe let out a loud and broken moan when Shawn flattened his tongue against her.

Phoebe was almost immediately on the edge of her orgasm when the door to Shawn’s room opened. “What a pretty sight.” Harrison hummed standing at the door. “You being so good for Shawn?” Harrison asked. Phoebe nodded as Shawn didn’t even pause his tongue when Harrison entered.

“I’m- c-close!” Phoebe gritted her teeth as Shawn pulled away again. “No!” She whined and Harrison laughed lightly looking at Shawn.

“Shawn you’re torturing the poor girl.” Harrison watched as Phoebe was shaking on the bed. “What Shawn to make you come? Gonna be good for him?” Harrison asked. Phoebe nodded against the pillow as her breathing calmed again. Shawn lowered himself to her again and let his tongue leave kitten licks on her clit. Two of his slick fingers easily entered Phoebe and he brushed against her top wall earning a loud moan form Phoebe in response.

“Please, please. Please let me come.” Phoebe was begging at that point. Her thighs were shaking while Shawn held them open and Harrison stood amused in the doorway.

“Gonna come for Shawn? Be a good girl?” Harrison asked. “Shawn wrecked you, you look so pretty.” Phoebe’s hair was splayed out above her. A dark flush covered her chest and face and her thoughts were shaking. Harrison knew she was on the edge of her orgasm as her eyes squeezed shut as moans tumbled out of her swollen lips. She was a truly beautiful sight.

“Yeah I’m good.” Phoebe mumbled through her moans. Shawn moved his mouth away from Phoebe briefly to speak.

“You can come now baby girl.” He hummed before reconnecting his lips to her clit. Phoebe immediately came undone under Shawn letting out loud moans as Shawn worked her down from her high. Slowly Shawn pulled his fingers out of Phoebe and untied her hands before pulling her into his chest. “That was so good.” He hummed rubbing Phoebe’s back.

“You were perfect.” Harrison added rubbing Phoebe’s back.

“Always so good.” Shawn kissed her forehead. “Gonna take a nap now?” He asked rubbing Phoebe’s back in slow circles. Phoebe nodded against Shawn’s chest letting her eyes slip closed as she focused on Shawn’s heart beat. “We’ll be down to make dinner in a little while.” Shawn told Harrison. Phoebe was already asleep in Shawn’s arms as he spoke.

“Yeah, Tom and Reagan are still sleeping. They’ll be out for a while still.” Harrison leaned down to kiss the top of Phoebe’s head before leaving. Shawn let his eyes slip closed too as he was determined to get some rest of his own before the evening craziness started.

An hour later Shawn opens his eyes when he heard his bedroom door open. Reagan was standing in the doorway wearing just one of Harrison’s tee shirts and a pair of underwear. “I’ll be down in a few minutes Reag.” Shawn mumbled as he slowly tried to wake up Phoebe. His hands running along her back gently. Reagan padded into the room and gave Shawn a kiss when Shawn reached up to brush a finger along one of the hickeys Tom had given her earlier.

“Tom.” Reagan responded. Shawn just smirked and nodded looking the marks over again. They were red right now, but Shawn could pick out four that would leave decent sized bruises.

“He gets excited.” Shawn laughed lightly as Phoebe lifted her head off his chest. “Morning Pheebs.” Shawn sighed running his fingers through her hair.

“Morning Phoebe.” Reagan laughed lightly as Phoebe laid her head back down on Shawn’s chest.

“Wanna help make dinner?” Shawn asked. Phoebe nodded as she sat up. She held the blanket over her chest and pointed to the hoodie on the floor.

“Can you grab that Reagan?” Phoebe asked the other girl. Reagan walked over and picked up the same hoodie of Shawn’s that Phoebe was wearing earlier. She walked over to Phoebe who took the fabric with a thankful smile.

“I take a nap and miss all the fun. I’ll let you two get dressed before you have to cook.” Reagan threw a wink over her shoulder while Shawn slid out of his bed to pull on sweatpants. Phoebe gave Shawn a soft smile as she picked up her underwear to pull back on before she walked over and kissed Shawn gently.

“You good buttercup?” Shawn hummed pulling Phoebe into a tight hug. Phoebe nodded against his shoulder before walking over to the door.

“Wanna go cook.” Phoebe yawned as she made her way to the large staircase at the end of the hallway. Shawn watched the way her hips swung while she walked. Phoebe reached up to fix her ponytail as she looked over her shoulder for Shawn.

“I’m coming I’m coming.” Shawn sighed as he picked up his and Phoebe’s phones before following her to the kitchen.

Harrison was lounging on the couch with a half awake Tom, a soccer game on the television. The two boys seemed to be very into the game as Reagan sat on the opposite couch on her laptop, most likely doing homework. Phoebe turned around to take her phone from Shawn and the boy compiled as she opened Instagram. “We’re all in the same place?” Phoebe laughed as she recorded the boys and Reagan.

“Fuck off.” Tom mumbled as he turned around to look at phoebe. Phoebe moved closer to Tom and he whined pushing her away.

“Mr. Holland is home and as happy as ever.” Phoebe mumbled as she turned to face Shawn. “And Shawn, no shirt? Scandalous!” Shawn laughed as Reagan’s voice cut in before the video ended.

“You’re not wearing any pants Pheebs!” Reagan yelled. That sent Tom and Harrison into a fit of laughter as Phoebe added the video to her story before she set her phone on the counter. She crossed her arms looking at Reagan.

“If you want to eat you should really be nice to me.” Phoebe teased as she walked into the kitchen. Shawn followed close behind and opened the fridge pulling out the dough, cheese and pepperoni. Phoebe started preheating the oven and set up and pan before she grabbed the spices she needed to mix with the dough.

“Tom!” Phoebe yelled from the kitchen after Shawn had slid the pull apart pizza into the oven. “I’m making you the slutty cheesecake bars you wanted!” Tom perked up from his place on the couch and smiled over the back cushion at Phoebe.

“I love you!” Tom called making phoebe roll her eyes as she set up another pan.

“Love you too Tommy!” Phoebe called back as she pressed the cookie dough into the bottom of the pan. Shawn kissed Phoebe’s cheek before moving to the living room where he curled up next to Reagan. Reagan didn’t pay the boy any mind as she continued typing her paper. Shawn tried moving his head into her lap but Reagan shifted and barely missed a beat while she typed.

After being ignored for a few minutes Shawn sat up and started kissing along the hickeys Tom had left on Reagan’s next earlier. That made Reagan take a deep breath and close her laptop, turning to give Shawn a firm look.

“He just wanted attention.” Harrison shrugged looking away from the pair. Shawn nodded in agreement with Harrison before he kissed Reagan’s cheek. Reagan sighed and turned to peck Shawn’s lips before he rested his head in her lap.

“What’s with you boys and having your hair played with!” Reagan hummed as she let her nails scrape against Shawn’s scalp gently.

“You girls like it too.” Tom responded as Phoebe peeked in from the kitchen.

“Like what?” Phoebe asked looking at Tom.

“Us playing with your hair.” Harrison answered.

“Oh yeah we do. Food’s ready.” Phoebe smiled as Tom shot straight up to walk to the kitchen. “You’re a little hungry Tom?” Phoebe asked as Tom had a plate in his hands before anyone else was in the kitchen.

“Missed your cooking.” Tom smiled filling his plate before he went to sit at the table. Phoebe did the same as the other three slowly made their way into the kitchen also. “Missed all of you actually.” Tom smiled around his first bite of food. Phoebe nodded as Harrison sat down next to her.

“You less tired?” Harrison asked Phoebe who just shrugged. “Still tired?” Phoebe nodded and rested her head on Harrison’s shoulder. “What Shawn teasing you took a lot out of you?” Harrison smirked across the table at Shawn.

“Wait Shawn teasing who?” Reagan asked looking between Harrison, Shawn and Phoebe. Phoebe tucked her face into Harrison’s neck before he spoke.

“Shawn gave Phoebe here what she deserved for being a brat earlier.” Harrison smiled kissing the top of Phoebe’s head.

“And we missed it?” Tom asked offended from Phoebe’s other side.

“Just didn’t let her come for a while.” Shawn spoke in a nonchalant tone as he bit into his cheese filled bread. “And tied her to the headboard.” Shawn added afterwards.

“And we missed it?” Reagan repeated Tom’s earlier words. Phoebe untucked her face from Shawn’s shoulder and shrugged looking between Reagan and Tom.

“I’m sure it can be arranged again.” Harrison spoke. Phoebe was red in her seat but knew that they were just joking with her. Everyone loved to embarrass her, but she didn’t mind it, she enjoyed it for the most part.

“Give it a few days.” Phoebe mumbled as she went to pull the cheesecake bars out of the oven. “Gotta treat Tommy tonight.” Phoebe whispered in Reagan’s ear as she passed. Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the smell of the desert filled the otherwise garlicky room.

“Did I mention how much I missed you and Shawn cooking?” Tom asked as he came up behind Phoebe. He wrapped his arms around her middle and watched as she cut the pan of baked goods into bars. Phoebe nodded and leaned back to kiss Tom gently.

“We all missed you too Tommy.” Phoebe smiled at the curly haired boy who was wrapped around her.

“Good.” Tom smiled. “Now go put those bars out on the table. They didn’t feed me like you do while I was filming and I lost some of the little stomach you gave me.” Phoebe watched as Tom walked back into the dining room where Reagan opened her arms and let Tom sit on her lap while she finished her dinner. Shawn and Harrison were both smiling as they talked about Shawn’s next concert that everyone would be attending. Phoebe walked into the dining room with the bars and set them down before sitting down on Shawn’s lap.

“Me and Reagan have off that week.” Phoebe reminded Shawn as he reached to take a bar from the pan.

“Why don’t we just bring those in the living room and start movie night early?” Reagan asked as Tom munched on a piece of a bar in her lap. Harrison nodded and picked up the fray moving it to the living room coffee table and everyone else strung in and sat down on the two couches.

“Your night to pick Tommy.” Phoebe said as Tom curled into her side on the couch. Tom thought it over for a couple minutes before looking at Harrison who had the remote and Netflix open.

“Blade Runner?” Tom asked as more of a question. Harrison nodded and put the movie on as Reagan laid her legs in his lap. Reagan’s Head wound up in Shawn’s lap as he started playing with her hair. After the movie had started Harrison was rubbing her legs and Tom was curled as close to Phoebe as possible .

This was home for the five of them, and they wouldn’t let anyone else opinions determine how they lived their lives. If they were happy together that’s all that mattered, it was them against the world and so far they had done a hell of a job winning.

#claires1kwc #tom holland #shawn mendes #harrison osterfield #polyamory #poly relationship #smut #tom holland: a sweet pea #harrison osterfield: a peanut #shawn mendes: a cake pop #tom holland x oc #harrison osterfield x oc #shawn mendes x oc

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pleasantroaddeansludge · 4 years

Text

The second time she woke up, Lyla knew exactly where she was. Peering upwards, she observed the face mere inches from hers. Max lay stoically, fast asleep and breathing heavily. He seemed so vulnerable, so transparent...

“Max,” she whispered.

He stirred, but didn’t awake, so she left him to sleep. Slowly removing herself from his embrace, she rolled over and read an alarm clock on the bedside table. 7:45. Fuck.

Clamouring out of the bed and to the door, she peered around inquisitively. It was Mia’s bedroom, so where was Mia? Almost as if on command the petit girl appeared and the top of the stairs.

“Hey babe.”

“Mia? Why did you let me keep your room?” she inquired, but she was met with giggles.

“You looked very comfy in there,” She said, winking suggestively.

“Haha, very funny! We’re going to be late to school!”.

Mia’s expression suddenly became one of seriousness.

“You’re not going anywhere. Hearst is closed due to mild flooding today and you’re in no state to be going anywhere. My parents are on a work trip for the next few days. You two can keep eachother company today.”

Lyla began to argue that her parents would be angry, but then it dawned upon her. Would they even care? Would they even notice?

In defeat, she just replied “Mia, I hate you.”

The cheerleader smiled chirpily and threw her a freshly baked pain au chocolat.

“I love you too.”

Max woke up to an empty bed. Rubbing his eyes groggily, he realised what happened. He fell asleep. With her. Shit. He only just broke up with Kara, but couldn’t help but admit he felt something.

No. No, you did not. Get over it.

He reiterated these words and she came back into the bedroom, wearing the same old clothes she had been when he found her last night. Except this time, she’s eating a croissant. He can’t help but think that despite everything, she’s still the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

Shaking his head, he silently pinched himself.

“Hi,” she stated uneasily, metres away from him.

“Hi.” He replied back coldly and detached, staring absent mindedly at the wall behind her.

Colour flushed to her cheek as she grabbed her jacket.

“This was a bad idea. I don’t know what Mia was thinking,” she muttered, trying to make herself look presentable to the outside world.

Max cursed himself for letting her go like this, but he couldn’t allow himself to give in to temptation.

“Back to loser high so soon?” he quipped, the playful hint to his voice gone.

“I’m going for a walk.” She practically spat the words at him, lacing up her shoes.

“We know how that ended for you last time.”

He said it without thinking, and immediately winced at the harshness of his own words.

No different. He’s no fucking different.

How could she allow herself to be so stupid, and believe he cared for a split second?

At that point, she’d heard more than enough. Max watched her slam the bedroom door and then heard the quieter slam of the front door, two levels underneath.

Burying his head in Mia’s floral scented bedsheets, he noticed a photo on her bedside table. It’s one of her and her girlfriend, Lola. Lola’s has her arms thrown around Mia and they laugh as if in their own unburstable bubble.

Even if he would never admit it, Max wanted nothing more that. When his little sister came out, it made him happy - happy that she could finally get her happily ever after. Or that she was at least closer to finding her version of it. He may have been a dickhead, but he sure as fuck was not a homophobe.

Why was he thinking about this shit?

Deep down, he knew why. It was because having her on him made him realise she was what he wanted.

Lyla was smart, she was determined, one of the kindest people he’d ever met, beautiful and...

she was broken.

Just like him.

———

Like that, he knew he had to find her. Getting ready took five minutes, and he was sitting in his Porsche in ten. Where could she have gone? The Lake? No, not so soon. Home? Doubtful; she was supposed to be in school. That just left one place... school. Mia would flip her shit if Max just pulled up to her school but he didn’t know what else to do.

Luckily for Max, he didn’t get that far. He spotted her just outside the parking lot of the school, shivering from the wet weather.

He shouted out to her - no response. Had she seen him? He honked his horn this time. Still no response. Okay, she’d definitely heard.

He pulled up and parked, approaching her with haste.

“Hello?”

She turned around and snapped “I do not always need saving, Max. I can be on my own. And if you’re here to make fun, I’m giving you the opportunity to leave. Now.”

He didn’t know why he was there, but he knew he wasn’t leaving.

“Please. Listen to me”

He pleaded with his eyes. Noticing she’d walked all the way, he gestured to his car. Reluctantly, probably in order to reduce attention, she clamoured in.

“So?”

“So... nothing. I just needed to see you.”

She sat there facing him in disbelief.

“Are you drunk?”

“Can I kiss you?”

The questions come out at the same time and her eyes widen.

“Max. This is not the appropriate time or place. Never is the appropriate time or place.”

“I see,” he muttered, leaning over to open her door. “Sorry for wasting your time. And sorry for what I said earlier.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. Max was... apologising? And it sounded genuine. Suddenly, she grabbed the car door and shut it close.

“What are you-”

He was cut off by her lips on his, warm and inviting. After a few seconds, he pulled away.

“What are you doing?” He exclaimed in suprise, taken aback.

“I have no one, but you came all this way just to talk to me. And really need you to kiss me right now.”

Complying, he clasped her face in his hands. He was an expert in these situations, but being with her made him feel like he was in middle school all over again.

The kiss was sweet and warm. One of her hands started tugging on his shirt, but garnering all his self control, he pushed them away lightly.

“You’re not in the right state,” he whispered between kisses.

She pulled away abruptly and paused. He was right. She was wearing two day old clothes, despite showering at the Warren’s, and was unable to think straight.

“Meet me at 5. Right here,” she murmured. He nodded in response and before she could get out the car he grabbed her arm.

“Where are you going?” He asked quietly.

“Home.”

———

As soon as Lyla arrived home, she flopped onto the bed. As she’d expected, no questions had been asked. She had tons of time until she had to meet Max, but for some reason she found herself itching to text him.

No. You and Max are not friends. You kissed once. It was a lapse in judgement. So why are you going to meet him later?

The internal conflict raged for an hour until she picked herself up and decided there was no way she could waste the rest of the day.

She peeled her clothes off and chucked them into a corner of her room. In her underwear, she peered at her back in the mirror. It was red where she had fallen, but she felt no pain. Instead, she traced the bruises with her fingertip - she remembered where Max had grabbed her. Where he had saved her.

Shaking her thoughts away quickly, she returned to her wardrobe. After carefully pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head, she felt cleaner already. Throwing on some black leggings and fuzzy socks, she went over to her desk. An assortment of unfinished projects littered it, layering until she could no longer see the varnished wood underneath. Fuck off, she thought, and with one swipe she had thrown the contents onto the floor. Sitting down swiftly, she pulled out a blank piece of paper and a pencil. She was no artist, not like Autumn, but she knew how to draw a picture or two.

Letting her pencil fill the page, she realised two hours had passed. Lyla looked down, observing what she had created. It was a couple, locked in embrace. The guy had tousled blond hair and an athletic build, and the girl was hidden, shielded by a large jumper. In exasperation, she hung her head. It was Max. She’d drawn Max.

———

Max only narrowly avoided a crash on the way home, too consumed by his own thoughts. As the rain sloshed onto his windshield, he tried to ponder his options; a task proving difficult, as he couldn’t quite work out what his options were supposed to be. Getting attached to Lyla was not in his best interests - not at all. But he couldn’t help but feel something when they kissed. Something was different when they were together - he didn’t feel like he did with Kara or any other girl before her. He knew logistically it would never work, but he couldn’t help but wish - wish that circumstances were different.

Ascending to his room, he unlocked his phone - four missed calls from Derek. Shit. He’d forgotten they were supposed to meet up today.

Quickly calling him back, Derek answered almost immediately.

“Hey, man. Where’ve you been?” Derek huffed, sounding out of breath.

“Nowhere. My bad, bro, I totally forgot.”

“That’s fine, that’s fine. Just get to Kara’s asap.”

“Kara’s?” Max responded in confusion. “Why the hell would she want me there? Why the hell would I want to go there?”

“Everyone’s here! Just a couple drinks, we’re celebrating an extended weekend.”

Knowing he had a reputation to uphold, Max huffed a general sound of agreement and turned off the phone. He didn’t need to meet Lyla till 5, and there was no need to raise suspicion.

Within the half hour, he pulled up outside a large, stately home - one which he’d spent much time in. The home of his psycho ex-girlfriend. What even was his life?

After knocking on the door, the dark-haired cheerleader let him in with an ever present scowl.

“Yooooo, Max!” exclaimed Derek, a blunt hanging halfway out his mouth and his arms around the waist of a girl Max had never seen before. He greeted him with a light punch on the shoulder.

“How’s it going?” Max asked uninterested , scanning the room. It was busy, really busy for a last minute party. It was possible that it was just a coincidence, but he couldn’t shake his uneasiness. He noticed Derek was talking to him, but he’d zoned out long ago, occasional “mmhhmm”ing to keek his friend happy. A cheerleader, Kaira, waltzed over to them and Max internally groaned. They’d made out once at a party, and yeah, she was fit, but she wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Hey Derek,” he whispered to his friend, who was mid sentence. “This ones all yours.”

With a smirk, Derek slid his free hand around the waist of the new girl, and Max walked off. However, as he was approaching the kitchen, he heard a commotion from the back room - where most of the partygoers had already convened. Following the noise, he noticed Kara, stumbling drunk, in the middle of a circle of people. She was rambling on, and her audience was laughing along with it.

“Let’s go..o..o, Let’s go to that scho..o..ol. That good for no-o-Othing school. I want to give them a piece of my-”.

She stopped short as she fell over again, provoking another fit of giggles. Derek walked over to Max, two different colour of lipstick stains coating his neck, and nudged him.

“What’s she talking about?”

Max shrugged and looked back upon her as she locked her eyes on him. Kara began laughing hysterically, pointing at him.

“You’ll go. You’ll take us. You hate everyo-o-oneee except Max Warren. Take me...e...e.”

“Kara, I don’t understand why you could possibly want to go to Oliver M. Berry.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Let’s goooo...” she trailed off as she retched in her mouth, enducing mild groans from the bystanders.

Derek began laughing. “Yeah, let’s go. Let’s go tell them exactly what we think of them and their stupid little - wait, what was I saying?”

Looking around the room in confusion, his eyes landed on Max, and then the room of people in front of him.

“LET’S ALL FUCKING GO!”

An hour later, Max found himself driving a very drunk Kara and a very stoned Derek towards Lyla’s school. He really didn’t want to, but otherwise they would drive themselves and that was bound to end in disaster. Flanked by at least three other cars filled with Hearst students, he groaned. He figured he could drop them off and drive away - he didn’t have to show face for long. If he was seen refusing to go, that would have a harmful impact on his social standing. So he gritted his teeth and stepped on it.

———

Lyla couldn’t help but smile as she looked in the mirror. Yesterday she’d looked as shattered as she’d felt, so at least tonight she’d made an effort. She combed through her freshly washed wet hair, and applied a swipe of strawberry lip gloss.

Why do you care how you look? Who are you trying to impress? This isn’t a date.

What the hell was she doing ?

Fuck it, she thought, and stepped outside the door. Her car looked like scrapyard material compared to Max’s, but she couldn’t care less. She climbed in and started the ten minute journey to school with some music and a flask of green tea.

She knew something was off as soon as she got close. She’d arrived at four thirty, earlier than agreed with Max, to greet her friends. But as she approached her school, she noticed the entrance seething with people. At least two dozen stood directly outside the sign that she’d placed next to the admissions office. Parking across the other end of the lot, she unbuckled and started towards the crowd.

Her stomach dropped. The blond was unmistakable. In the centre of the crowd was Max, his car parked not too far behind him. She could see her friends in front of the Hearst students - Mia, Lola, Wes, Ezra, Autumn, Nishan, Sakura, Koh, Katherine, Payton and Julian. It felt like a kick in the chest to see her friends look so complete without her, but the feeling didn’t last long. It was interrupted by a sudden commotion and the sound of a punch being landed in someone’s face. That someone proved to be Julian, who Lyla recognised from voice. But there was no doubt about it. Max was the one who had hit.

It felt like betrayal. She didn’t know why, but it felt like the deepest form of betrayal. So she began running, pushing through anyone in her way.

Julian was standing up now, cradling his head.

“Julian, are you okay? Do you feel concussed? Can you hear me?” she exclaimed, immediately grabbing onto his arms. When her friends were hurt, any past discrepancies had no merit.

“Lyla?”

She heard Max’s voice behind her, but she ignored it, continuing to check Julian’s head.

“I’m alright, Lyla, I’m alright,” he exclaimed, batting away her hands in mock annoyance. Mia rushed up to her and threw her arms around her, followed by Payton. Autumn awkwardly smiled from a distance, and Lyla returned the gesture.

Max repeated himself more assertively this time.

“Lyla.”

She flicked her head round, searching for any sign of regret in his eyes. Whatever had happened before had clearly irked the boy, but his behaviour was inexcusable.

“No.” she muttered, already walking away. She knew the crowd would be eyeing her, so she bade farewell to her friends and got in the car. She wasn’t going home but where was there to go? Revving the engine, she knew - The lake.

———

A million thoughts were racing through Max’s head as he watched her walk away. The boys had been exchanging their usual insults, and Max had lost his temper, as per. But it felt different this time. For the first time, he regretted it. It could be argued that he shouldn’t have needed Lyla to recognise the fault in his actions, but he had no time for thinking like that.

He pretended to storm off in anger, but really he knew he had to follow her car. Although it was obvious where she was going, he still wanted to be quick. He didn’t fear she would take her life - he feared she would condemn his.

A 10 minute journey later, he arrived. As suspected, she sat perched on a bench next to the water. She was throwing little pebbles in and watching how the surface rippled hypnotically.

“Lyla.”

She didn’t move a muscle, but he knew she knew he was there.

“Please, talk to me” he pleaded, walking closer.

“I don’t want you to change for me, Max. But this version of you - I don’t want to be around it. So enjoy your life, but leave me out of it.”

It hurt Max more than he cared to admit, but he continued to approach her.

“Lyla, listen. I’m sorry about today - I never meant for it to go down this way. I don’t know what the hell we’re doing but, I don’t want it to stop and I know you feel the same. Please.”

———

She observed him for a second. God, he’d be so much easier to hate if he didn’t look like... that. “I’m listening.”

“Give it a chance. Give us a chance.”

She rose and walked up to him til they were mere inches apart.

“There is no us.” She stated coldly.

“Say that whilst looking into my eyes.” He whispered.

“There is no-”

She couldn’t finish. She knew it was a lie.

“Ha.”

“Max.”

“Yes.”

“Where’s your car?”

“About a minute walk that way. Why?”

Lyla took off in that direction, leaving Max to follow behind her in confusion.

She opened up the back door and slid in, beckoning him to come closer.

“What are you doing, Lyla?” He uttered, not daring to raise his voice.

“Prove it. Prove that you want me.”

He smirked. “Are you sure, babe?”

“I’m not your babe. Now, kiss me. “

0 notes

themeltedheadaches · 7 years

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ALL THE ASKS DO IT unless ur too busy #collegelife love u ❤❤❤❤

LOVE U BOO never too busy for u (also using this to procrastinate on my french composition so)

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

i eat my cereal………………….dry…………..

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

YES that’s literally my life now. i love it but also my nose was running today all the way to get coffee in downtown. i was in THREE LAYERS it is not even DECEMBER

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

answered! :)

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

if i’m going to be a bitch and just get plain coffee, i’m gonna get it black bc otherwise i’ll just have a white mocha or a cappuccino or something (the ppl at the campus coffeeshop know who i am. they know my order. “one sin-ful latte coming up!” thank u for fueling my Addition.) i take my tea with milk and sugar if it’s black tea ((earl gray)) or with honey if it’s green tea. if it’s white tea i’ll sometimes have it with sugar, and if it’s something like peppermint or lavender or chamomile i’ll just have it plain. IM A PICKY BITCH

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

i used to be! but now i like it.

6: do you keep plants?

YES pls pray for them

7: do you name your plants?

answered! :)

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

poetry! i like to watercolor too, actually, though i left them at home :(

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

YES i miss my car bc that’s when i would have Prime Time to sing and hum to myself or along to whatever song i live for at the moment. (i’m into a musical rn and i can’t yell the lyrics out i’m so ANnoyed Always)

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

answered!

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

i have fucking countless at home……. at college there are quite a few too! as in: “hypothetically, vodka?,” “fuckinG,,,WHAT,” “[blow twice] [slurp sound] [tongue click] noice.,” “SHPEAKERSH OHN!,” “over there! like, over there? over there. over there?,” “just going to go kick some nutria,” and of course, the classic, “same, but jewish.”

12: what’s your favorite planet?

URANUS actually tho it’s uranus. i had to do my planet project on it in the 4th grade and i gave my brother AND mother silent treatment for two days bc they laughed at its name. i’m very protective

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

i saw my favorite puppy on campus again today!! he’s grown so much!! also my poetry professor’s wife had a successful surgery! #GoMeredith

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

SO MESSY………………….listen. @michelle i’ve seen ur room, and i would just accept that that is how we live now and it’s fine. it would also be aesthetic as fuck tho tbh. full of yarn and animal fur. and books. and junk food #RIFP

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

if saturn’s rings were a meter long, they would be 10000 times thinner than a razorblade! what the fuckkkkkkkkkkk

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

UHHHHH fucking;;;;;;;;what how am i supposed to #represent my italian fmaily with this DISGUSTING question,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, jk i fuckig love risotto, just ur basic bitch peas and cheese risotto and i’ll cry. also?? gnocchi!! holy shiiiiiiiit.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

my hair has such good color i’d actually rather shave it all off than dye it :/

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

HHHHHHHH yesterday. LITERALLY yesterday. there was a french club meeting that served cheese and bread! so i took my Good Friend WIliam (who is not in french, unlike me), and we walk into the room, and i say “helLO!” bc that’s good manners, when you’re going to just get food and leave, and it’s dead silent. i get food and leave. william has told everyone in our entire hall twice.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

answered!

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

i’m so biased……….but……..brown………..

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

my brown leather one! it’s actually super fake leather and i got it from target!! but it’s cute and small and somehow fits everything i need to put in it, including 3 beers and my wallet and 2 phones last weekend. i’ve had for 4 years now

22: are you a morning person?

yes! i like waking up early actually

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

go on youtube and waste time, or walk around campus/downtown with friends, or shop!

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

yes

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

my cousin’s RV

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

my brown leather boots! wow there’s a trend here lmao. actually i’ve had two pairs of these bc my first was falling apart?? i used them first in a cosplay……in the 7th grade………..(i was matt from death note and to this day i’m STILL not fucking ashamed, i had the wig and goggles and everything.) i love them and wear them all the time, they’re so comfy and warm and stylish and i feel like a hacker badass everytime i wear them. still to this day.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

bubblegum gives me hives i do Not enjoy it :(

28: sunrise or sunset?

sunset!

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

one of my friends down the hall will call things/ppl “cute as pie” completely genuinely!! i love her!!

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

oh yeah

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

i fucking love them thanks end of story. wearing them makes me feel cozy and put together and also atm my dorm floor is Disgusting. i sleep with them when it’s cold and my feet are dry! i have so many fun socks it’s great. i love them. socks are highly underrated.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

my friend and i were driving around evERYWHRE basically, we went from pasadena/san marino to like. hollywood all the way to beverly hills and back and it was wonderful, we stopped 3 times to chase stray cats, take shitty pictures, go to iHop, and almost died several times bc hE SNAPS AND DRIVES at NIGHT on LA FREEWAYS

33: what’s your fave pastry?

croissants, followed by scones, followed by coffeecake

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

bunny the stuffed bunny! she’s pretty large, like as long as my torso! she’s white fabric with colored fluffy bits and very floppy, loose ears. she has green button eyes that i had my grandma sew on bc otherwise she actually scared me a bit when i was a kid, but i loved her anyway bc my great-grandmother sewed her for me in the first place. bunny still lives on my bed at home!

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

YES! i ddon’t use them very often though bc i feel like i should save them for something. rip me

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

stromae hands down

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

clean….i’m so lazy tho

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

sudden loud noises, being startled, being touched physically when i don’t expect it, someone making assumptions about me, being dismissed, being told what i want or what i’m going to do, borrowing something of mine w/o telling me, being interrupted

39: what color do you wear the most?

HONESTLY black bc i’m an emo bitch

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

one i’ve been wearing a lot is the fork ring i got from the portland saturday market! it’s literally the tines of a vintage fork separated from the part you hold, sanded down so it’s round, and looped into a ring shape. i fidget with it a lot and it reminds me of my mom and step-dad, bc i got it when i was with them. i wear it mostly everyday tbh

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

new american best friend by olivia gatwood in general, or thick as thieves by megan whalen turner when i re-read it out loud to my mom on the ride up to college

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

yeeeeeeS i have several! the bistro, which is on campus: it’s so comfortable, it has couches everywhere and board games and so many books and zines and the walls are half chalkboard so there’s always art or snark everywhere. the music is super eclectic (it was lorde yesterday, today when i went in it was old-school 90s rap), plus it’s student run so the coffee and pastries and food are SO GOOD. the archive, which is downtown, is really boujee as fuck but it’s SO COOL. it’s so fucking aesthetic, with brown leather stools and uncomfortable booths and vintage books and stuff everywhere. for half the day, it’s a coffeeshop, and after 7, it becomes a bar. then back home, of course, coffee bean and tea leaf is the classic

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

half my hall when we went star tripping at the start of the year!

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

honestly the last time it was genuine was probably around…….january? i was in so much emotional pain and grief, but i was surrounded by family who loved me and were in that same pain and were so happy i was with them to help and be there with them. i wasn’t serene per say, or at peace, but there was this equilibrium….

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

yes!

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

my RA told me this one this morning: did you hear about the explosion in the cheese factory in france this morning? de-brie everywhere!

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

tomatoes

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

spiders, YES

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

i do…………………….. it was the soundtrack to romeo et juliette (2010)

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

everything; stickers, pressed flowers, rocks, receipts

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

the easiest one is when i think of my roommate, davey the dog’s barking cover of “do the hustle”

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

no, yes, no, no, it was okay

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

ME, BITCH

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

chugged an an entire pitcher of water to prove i could, three times

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

genuineness! vulnerability! eye contact! fidgeting!

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

made me feel PUMPED, and of course i did

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

i am both

59: what’s your favorite myth?

uHHHHHHHHHH i love the myth of beowulf actually bc i had to do a project on it once, i have a soft spot for it, i love all myths tho wtf

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

YES,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, recently some of my favorites are the entirety of a montage of a dream deferred by langston hughes, “totem sonnets” by sherman alexie, “on earth we’re briefly gorgeous” by ocean vuong, “one art” by elizabeth bishop

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

stupid gifts are nonexistent :/

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

noooo

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

yes lmao…….i kinda leave them be but i don’t like it if i let someone borrow them and they trash them uGH

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Pitch Black

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

YES

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

morning glories, lavender, baby’s breath!

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

very good, thankfully, bc i am in oregon

68: what’s winter like where you live?

in LA, it’s cold and sweet and late and breathless and i adore it

69: what are your favorite board games?

jenga, clue, ??

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

NONONONONO

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

peppermint for mornings, earl gray for evenings!

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

yes, sadly

73: what are some of your worst habits?

biting the skin around my fingers, bouncing my knees incessantly, procrastinating on my french compositions……

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

well there’s this amazing person who i met in freshman year german…….;)

75: tell us about your pets!

i WISH

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

yes :(

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

pink of course

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

i am the true hateclub: i don’t react. do not give them power. they Feed off of your Hatred

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

get me flowers, surprise me with chocolate, come up to me and compliment me on my writing, etc!!

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

at home my walls are a soft orangey-peach, which is picked bc i love it. here, my walls are very very white, which i did not pick, but am neutral towards.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

circuit-board chips busted open

82: are/were you good in school?

ehhhhhhh

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

MELODRAMA

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

yes! a minimalistic double-delight rose for my great-grandmother, “love ya!” in my grandpa’s handwriting, maybe a nutshell with a crown over it (for the “king of infinite space” bit in hamllet), possibly “soyez réaliste, demandez l’impossible!” (be realistic, demand the impossible!) from the french student revolution in the 60s

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

somewhat, def hawkeye or the young avengers bc i’m basic :/

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

the only one i’ve rlly ever listened to is fucking danger days, so i worship them obviously

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

i think ppl should make their own agendas :/ however, i have deeply loved secondhand lions, up, moonlight, the grand budapest hotel, and other basic bitch things

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

impressionism!! aaaaaaa!!! also just shove me in front of abstract art and i’ll fall for it!!!

89: are you close to your parents?

so so so so close to my mom and step-dad, on okay terms with my dad

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

listen to me. I LOVE SEATTLE. art! fish market! weird side streets! mean street art! bitchy coffee!! neon everywhere!! a big fuckin needle in the sky!

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

ITALY THIS SUMMER IM SO EXCITED i’m gonna meet all my mom’s friends from her semester abroad that she’s kept, i’m gonna see what she saw when she was my age, i’m gonna see where my dad’s family is from maybe if we go south???, i’m gonna see all the places and things she used to tell me about to get me to dream big and want to see the world and experience what’s out there!! aaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

depends on the pasta

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

down bc i’m fucking lazy and also inept when it comes to doing things with hair

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

my friend across the hall from me, who is now 19 years of bitchiness!

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

stay in, study, maybe go to a kickback tho

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

lol i put them off until my computer ceases to function altogether

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

zodiac obviously

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

fucking…….summer?? i did!

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

“feelings” by hayley kiyoko, “vacation town” by the front bottoms, “february” by beach bunny, “hard feelings/loveless” by lorde, “moon river” by henri mancini, “let me in” by flor, “a million miles away” by the plimsoles, “girls like me” by bonnie hayes, “love my way” by the psychedelic furs, the entire legend of zelda soundtrack, “place, je passe” from the mozart l’opera rock soundtrack, etc etc

#ask

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denmarkduringthefall-blog · 7 years

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Study tour in western Denmark

Last week, for “core course week” I got lots and lots at practice at sketching buildings. My “core course” here at DIS is Architectural Foundations, observing sketching buildings is one of the foundational skills they would like me to work on while I’m here. Monday, I practiced sketching at DIS with all the other architecture students. Above is a page from my sketchbook. I drew a “serial vision” of what it looked like to talk down Strøget, a shopping/walking street near school.

Tuesday, I went back to the Open Air Museum with my architecture class. It was even more rainy this time... Here is one of my drawings from that visit, of a house with a green roof and an old beehive that was out front.

I had the day off Wednesday and went on a tour of buildings in western Denmark from early Thursday morning to Saturday afternoon.

I have included some pages from the program for that trip here. Each one has some pictures and some info. If you would like to read more about any of the places that I went, you can click on the name of the place as I have linked each one to its website. I have also included a few more pages from my sketchbook.

Thursday: Kolding and Skanderborg

1. Trapholt Art Museum (Kolding)

Though small, this museum was cool because the building was designed to blend with the natural space around it. It sits among some small hills, right on the edge of a fjord. The museum had one central corridor with smaller galleries branching off from it. I liked this design because I felt sure I had gotten to see everything. The drawing below is looking into one of the galleries from that central corridor. It seems that we got there in between major shows because a few of the galleries were closed at the time. That being said, the art that was up and visible was pretty cool. I especially liked “Think Bigger” a show by Michael Kvium, and a bunch of chairs they had on display from various famous architects and designers.

2. Koldinghus (Kolding)

Koldinghouse is a fortress that partially burned in 1808. After the fire, the inside was given a modern renovation. Now it is a museum about the history of the fortress and the town. When we visited, they had a temporary exhibition called Beyond Icons. It was arranged by design students, each one chose an “iconic” object that they appreciated and made a small display for it. I really liked this show, and the inside of the fortress was a beautiful mix of old and new.

3. SDU Student Center (Skanderborg)

Though I saw some cool stuff at each of the museums, This building was absolutely my favorite of the day (possibly of the entire trip). The student center is shaped like a triangle (and you will find more triangles everywhere you look, from the skylights to the window shades) with a central open area that is also shaped like a triangle but is turned a few degrees on each level (shown in orange on the diagram below). This is difficult to imagine unless you are in the space, but it has a very cool effect on the space. The railings of each level crisscross each other when you look down from the top, and this means that much more natural light can make its way onto the various floors (compared to how it would be if the open area in the center were the same on each level). There are also outdoor balconies with plant-walls and modular furniture. It is definitely a place where I would be happy to study and hang out.

(Above: View from the top floor in SDU campus center )

We stayed in a hostel in Skanderborg for the night. We ate at a restaurant called Nicoli Café, which was also an art house cinema. The food was very tasty but sadly we didn’t watch a movie there.

Friday: Århus

Åarhus is the second largest city in Denmark. This year, it is one of two European Culture Capitals (the other is Pafos, Cyprus), which means there are a lot of events and things going on there. I really liked Århus, and I hope that I get a chance to go back.

4. DOKK1

Our first day in Århus, we went to DOKK1 library and citizen center. This was a really cool, multi-functional space. The first floor is a library, and throughout there are areas to work, relax, or play (there are many different play spaces and toys that accommodate kids of all ages). There are also offices and various spots for exhibitions of art and other projects. The building itself had an interesting but somewhat confusing layout.

2. Dome of Visions

After DOKK1 we got to explore Århus on our own for a little bit. I went to the Dome of Visions, which sits right on the harbor. The Dome of Visions was just transported to Århus after spending two years in Copenhagen. Surrounded by community garden plots and made mainly of glass, it is hard for me to imagine a structure I would have liked more than this. It was sunny and cozy at the coffee bar inside, filled with lush plants and comfy couches. I would love to build something similar in the near future. I didn’t draw it, but I took lots of pictures!

4. Skanderup Kirke

Skanderup Kirke is a little church on a hill, it is one of the oldest churches in Denmark (built in 1050) . From its location, you can see out over much of the town and a large lake. It’s quite lovely. The inside of the church is almost as lovely as the view. It is made of a soft white chalk and it is decorated with hand-drawn patterns in nice warm browns and reds. I felt very calm and comfortable in there.

Friday night, we stayed in a hostel on the edge of the lake that we could see from Skanderup Kirke! I went canoeing for the first time ever there. It was raining a little when we set out, but it cleared up fairly fast, and we got to see a vibrant rainbow stretched over the shore. Our cabin was cute and the dinner at the hostel was very tasty. After dinner, our group had a bonfire and made Snobrød. Snobrød is like the Danish version of s’mores in that you traditionally cook it on a stick over the campfire. That is where the similarities stop. It’s just bread dough which you wind in a spiral around your stick, nothing overly sweet.

Saurday: Århus

1. City Hall

Saturday morning we headed back to the Århus. Our first stop was city hall. It is a really beautiful art-deco-like building from the 40′s. We didn’t get to go up in any of the upper floors or in the clock tower. But we did get to spend some time in the main event hall. It is a large open room with one full wall of windows on one side, and a collapsible wall made of brightly colored textiles on the other. The lights are these cool hexagonal boxes made of brass and glass which hang from the balconies of the upper floors. The room has a high vaulted ceiling with yet more windows in it.

2. ARoS Art Museum of Modern Art

ARos is a fantastic museum. The layout made it easy to be certain that I saw everything, but I would still like to go back for a second visit. The building itself is supposedly designed to represent a trip from hell to heaven. There is an exhibition called 9 spaces (a reference to the 9 circles of hell) in the basement. You then travel up a huge spiral staircase through the museum, until you reach the roof terrace and the rainbow halo on top which is meant to represent heaven. The designers clearly liked playing with contrasting elements like this. The outside of the building is a red cube while the inside is all white curves.

I loved so much of the work that I saw at ARoS that it would be hard for me to pick a favorite. I did, however, think that the 9 spaces exhibition was particularly cool and unique. I also think that they have organized the art throughout the museum very well.

After the museum, we stopped by the Århus street food center to grab some lunch (I got a pulled duck sandwich, it was o.k.) and headed home.

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mousepatrol · 7 years

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8.8.17

so the reason im not posting this on the correct day is because our power is out right now. I completely forgot, but our powers supposed to be out from 8pm to 3pm which is completely stupid because the sun goes down right at 8 so that’s when I would need to start using it. I mean, they could have done it at around midnight when all reasonable people are asleep, or at least ten, when people are usually done eating and theyre just hanging out. You know? Also Im using word for this so that’s why things are being autocorrected

so, my day. Trash galore, folks.

I turned off my alarm last night because I didn’t think it was doing me any good and I was getting worried that I was just making myself sleep deprived for when school starts, so I went to bed around 3 or maybe even 4 (cant even fucking remember why at this point, I didn’t have shit to do) and then I woke up at 1145. Could have been worse but also could have been a lot better. So I wasn’t that tired bc I hadn’t been woken up 120000 times and I managed to actually be awake for a while. I fucked around on the computer for an hour and then made some pasta because apparently I cant eat anything else anymore. My appetite is shit

I ate like… only half of my food before I had to get ready to leave bc my mom was having a showing of the house and that means I have to leave. So I decided I was just going to go to the gym oh but I forgot something happened while I was going downstairs to cook

I made a short textpost about this already but I ran into my mom (who was in my brothers bathroom and I therefore thought she wasn’t home) and she told me that my dad had cancelled the flight he had for when I go back to school. So basically he was going to come out with me and help me move in even though I told him I wouldn’t really need that much help this time, since I already have all of my stuff and my new place is furnished. But when I had just gotten home, he insisted, and so he booked a flight with me. Also my parents told me that my car should be low on gas when I put it in storage so it was and it turns out that’s completely wrong so he was going to help me with my car also. It needs to go to the shop too just for like oil and stuff

Um so yeah apparently hes the biggest baby ever and my mom still wanted me to apologize to him and I think I did a good job of telling her that no, I should not apologize for my tiny bad thing (telling my dad several times to be quiet in increasingly sarcastic ways, bc I was watching jeopardy and he would not stop talking and I cant hear it when hes talking bc bad ears) when he wont even apologize for calling me a piece of shit and running away upstairs and banging things around and making me scared. That’s not acceptable and even though I recognize that I could have handled it better, I think that my response of annoyance (after days upon days of him doing this same thing while I try to tell him to not) was reasonable and honestly the things I said caused no harm. I wasn’t making fun of him. I was ONLY making jokes that had to do with the clues and turning them into ways of telling him to be quiet because I cant hear. I did tell him more nicely to be quiet in the beginning though. I really did. But he just wont stop with this shit and I don’t have infinite patience, even though it’s a lot better than I used to be

Um so yeah. Ok I wrote that for the last paragraph, interesting. But I mean im not mad about him not going, its not like I wanted him there anyway and I knew it would make me very uncomfortable and he would have to get a hotel bc theres nowhere for him to sleep, but its still a bit jarring and frankly just awful that he did that instead of either telling me okay and being quiet or I don’t know, saying im gonna leave the room while you watch it then bc I cant be quiet. Either of those would have been fine but instead of thinking internally about the things he was doing, he projected stuff onto me and just called me a piece of shit. I don’t really know how you can do that as a parent. I cant help but critique him, but at least im not just insulting him. You know? Is that reasonable? Ugh. But anyway, turns out theres a 711 right next to the storage place so if my car is out of gas I can either use the tiny bit that’s left to get it over to 711 or just like get gas from there and bring it to my car. Either way it is possible. I also just need someone to pick me up from the airport but my mom said she would figure that out. So, really, im fine. It’s the circumstance that is just very upsetting, you know. Its just not something that needed to happen and now im mad/scared of him for the rest of the time im here and im just over it as hell

Ok… so I ate lunch and then got ready for the gym bc that’s where I was going. So I went and then I actually went to target first bc I was out of soap, so I got better smelling soap than the one I had last and some more conditioner bc I was also out and I got a pair of comfy shorts that are a little too small for my ass but ill make due because I need more than one pair of shorts. And those other shorts really don’t fit me, I cannot wear them out lol. Then I went to the gym bc it was arm day and that went pretty well and I did it pretty quick so it was tiring for sure. And I came back and had a nice shower and sang against me! Songs really loud because I got tickets to see them in October that Im really psyched about and I just want to listen to them more. Oh man I love laura jane grace she is just so wonderful omg I am so glad to have her in the community its wonderful

So after all of that I went downstairs to get the rest of my pasta that I had put in the fridge, and it was like 6pm and I realized I probably didn’t want to be downstairs tonight so I also got some crackers and cheese and fruits snacks and extra water because I wasn’t sure if I was going to get to eat again (I probably only ate 500 calories today im upset L). So then I went upstairs to eat and I watched the great british bake off which is really nice and I quite like it a lot. Its calming and fun. After that I did a reply because dex replied to two of my threads today so I got one out for him since I want to get that thread going, aaaand about thirty minutes after that the power went off at eight. I had seriously forgotten about that so I don’t know, I kind of just accepted my fate

Im not really sure what exactly happened there, because I felt like I was fine before (was legit browsing dildos online lmfao like I was just bored yknow) but when the power was out I got kind of upset and just… took my plush cow and sat on my bed as the sun went down and just. Stared. Catherine, bless her fucking heart, texted me after like 30 minutes out of the blue so I luckily I had her to talk to for at least a little while. I was feeling shitty before yeah now that I think about it, after my shower I was upset and felt like I was gonna cry but I didn’t and I just sent james some snaps and he said he was gonna text me but he didn’t and that’s ok I think he went to bed because he didn’t open my other snaps. Its ok. He doesn’t need to contact me every minute for me to know that he cares. I love him so much and I sent him a quick text just to tell him that because I always do that when I feel bad just because eventually he replies and it always makes me feel good.

Ok so I cried like two times between eight and nine thirty when I was just sitting there, laying on my bed and texting Catherine about when school starts. I just felt really down because I remember having to turn the lights off around ten and it doesn’t really get a lot darker than it does in the summer at eight (I mean ten during schooltime when I was younger) and I just remember not having any light and no one to talk to or text and I couldn’t read and my parents would lock my computer out at ten so I couldn’t talk to anyone and I just remember being very very lonely and feeling like no one cared about me and not being able to talk to the people that I felt like truly did care about me. So I remember doing a lot of crying in bed in the evenings when I was like 12-16 and its just really sad, you know? i would cry myself to sleep a lot and all I could do was lay there and listen to music because ive always been really bad at sleeping so it would never come at ten even if I really wanted to sleep then. It just didn’t happen. So sitting there in my bed tonight just made me feel like this little kid trapped in this room and I cant go downstairs because im scared of people being bad to me and I cant go out and in my room I have to sit in the dark and its just all very bad. I forgot about all of that. Im an adult now and I can have the lights on when I want but I guess its upsetting for me to not be in control of that

Come to think of it, its also very upsetting when people tell me to go to bed. I talked to this one girl in my rp a lot (she doesn’t talk to me that much now, she talks to another person, I don’t know why and I do feel lonelier now but I guess she wasn’t that nice to talk to anyway so im alright) and if I was up when she woke up (8hhr time difference) she would spam me messages telling me to go to bed and I already knew my schedule but she wouldn’t shut up. I don’t know, that’s just something

Also I hate hearing people say my name. it makes me flinch every time and I think someones going to scream at me. I think that’s half the reason I wanted to change my name when I was going through gender stuff. I just didn’t want to hear that name anymore. Which is sad. Because I do love it, and maybe its not so bad when im not in this house bc its just my parents voices saying my name that really bothers me

So after 930 I went downstairs and got a candle and brought it up and I did a bit of drawing but it got annoying after about half an hour. At some point my dad came to my door and said something that I didn’t understand, so I didn’t say anything and he went away. Then I read catcher in the rye for about an hour (only got through like 35 pages) and now im writing this entry on whats left of my computer battery. Im charging my phone off of this just so it has power, since it was dying, and it looks like I have at least part of an episode of skam saved onto here so I guess im just going to watch that until I fall asleep because I always fall asleep to youtube videos. Im going to have to download some movie or something onto here so that I have that to fall asleep to in case if something like this happens again. Ok I know this was long but theres a lot of good stuff in there so hopefully this will help in therapy or something later. Things are really rough mentally right now and I just want to go home, you know. Ive wanted to go home for absolutely years, though. Idk where home is. bye

#strong blogs #8.8.17

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ellynefics · 7 years

Text

Visions of You | Part One

parts;; One (you are here) | Two | Three (coming soon)

genre;; Realistic, business college!AU

pairing;; Hyungwon x Reader [also a little bit of OT7 in coming chapters]

plot;;

After discovering that you’re going to go to the same college for business, you and Chae Hyungwon strike up a steady and strong friendship. But at some point... it becomes more than that.

title;; Visions by Cheat Codes

warnings;; lots of angst!! fluff, smut in coming chapters

revised;; 08/04/2017

words;; 6,637 (6.7k)

Technically, you could say that you first met Chae Hyungwon in high school. You were in the same graduating class, after all, and also happened to be in the same program at the same time. And yet, then, you were complete strangers, your paths never crossing. Well, why would have they? With 500, plus kids set to walk alongside you at graduation, and the school building being larger, too, it wasn't a huge wonder. Not to mention that though you were both heavily involved in business, there was a learning gap. He had always known what he wanted to go for. You were a different story, though, dabbling in various things--education, biology, chemistry--before finally finding your love and settling on it. Because of your past indecisiveness, you had to play catch up on classes, and so were never in the same room as him.

The tall, handsome man was well known to you, though, and you could pick out what he looked like. After all, the teachers touted him as one of the top students in the program. Your business teacher kept articles of him from the the school and local newspapers on the walls of his room. Also, there was a full color photo in the awards display cases next door. So, when you thought of Chae Hyungwon then, you always had a specific vision in your head. No doubt he was a relaxed young man, his plump lips always turned up in a smile and suit pressed impeccably. One of his favorite things to do was go to fancy events. They would give him awards trophies, and he would eat up the attention. He especially loved to have his photo taken and shake the hands of influential people.

You didn’t dwell on him much, however, as you were too engrossed in your own life. After deciding what you wanted for a career, you quickly found that you had gotten yourself into a lot. Often you would be up all night doing a project or assignment, and the next day feel like a dead woman walking. Still, you'd be at school, against the odds. It was hard; the course load you chose to take on might have broken some other people. The only thing keeping you sane was that you had finally found the thing you wanted to do.

After three semesters of grueling work, it seemed that your struggle was almost over. Senior year was drawing to a close; graduation was right around the corner. It made your chest swell with pride when they told you that you would be able to stand as an honors student. More than all that, though, another chapter of your life was going to start. After the hell that was High school was over, you would be able to move out into the big wide world. Like all graduates, you had a choice: to work, or continue your education. Deciding on which one to pursue wasn’t hard at all. When college was as much as mentioned to you, excitement bubbled up within.

Still, fear remained, even going into the meeting with your academic advisor. What if she didn’t agree with that path? Much to your surprise, though, a huge stack of college application materials waited for you on her desk. She said that despite the fact that you started uncertainly, you had finished strong. That alone was far more valuable than a straight 4.0 average. You had all the qualifications and prerequisites, and knew the path you were going to take. Thus, post-secondary school was a perfect option.

So, you (or rather, you and your parents) started to look at what institution would be the best fit. From the beginning, standards were extremely high. Your mother wanted campus to be a safe place, and dormitory life not too wild or toxic. Dad could only settle for the best school, the most knowledgeable teachers, the best method and curriculum. Despite their worry and input, ultimately, they had no say in the final choice. You were the one going off to college, becoming more independent, after all.

Many college tours filled your days to the end of the year. Out of all, one in particular stood out: Pierce College. It came highly recommended and you fell in love instantly. A small school and relatively inexpensive, Pierce was clean and well-kept. The staff and faculty were so friendly, intelligent, and well-learned in their respective fields. Also, they were genuinely interested in your success. You walked away from that visit bound and determined to call Pierce your school. The only worry in your mind was the tough application, but that would work itself out.

You had never worked for something so hard in your life. Every last detail of your application was perfectly formatted and filled out. On the entrance exams, your intensive studying must have helped something. You made higher scores than most of the boys in your class, landing yourself in the top five percent in fact.

The day your acceptance letter came in the mail--complete with scholarship awards--was unlike any other. Stop talking about it? What was that? You couldn’t have been more excited. Now all there was to do was finish out the year. The last day of class was palpably close, within sight and mind. Then you could spend the summer working your job as a cashier at the local grocery store. Saving up a little was high on your priority list. Maybe between shifts, you could get some good hangout time with your friends, too. Then it would be off, and you'd have to move a little more than five hours away.

One afternoon, you were suddenly and inexplicably called to the office. Your English teacher handed over the hall pass, and you stared at it a minute, almost in disbelief. Not like you had reason to worry; there was no way this was a disciplinary issue. Finishing up a worksheet you were in the middle of, you excused yourself, taking your things along. You didn't fool around or stop anywhere else, just headed right to the main office. The well-oiled door swung open with a whoosh of air. Sitting at her desk, working on some paperwork, the secretary only needed to look up and see who it was. She promptly pointed you to an adjoining conference room.

There, a familiar face was waiting--Dr. Osbourne. She was one of Pierce College's business faculty, and one of the reasons you were so determined to apply. She had a pervasive, optimistic attitude, and seemed very passionate about her job.

“Miss (Y/N)!” She smiled as you turned to close the door behind you and approached the table. “How are you?”

“I’m great! You?” There was no way you could resist grinning back.

“Awesome, thanks. Put down your books, and take a seat. I’m here to get to know you a little better, and find out what you’re thinking of doing in our program. We’ll get started in a minute, we're waiting on another student.”

You sat down in a plush rolling chair, sliding your stack of binders and textbooks away from yourself. Dr. Osbourne's last statement almost didn't register, though it was important. It was just that--you suddenly felt out of place in this huge, spotless room. It didn't help that you were with a formally-dressed teacher. You, by total contrast, were in a pair of comfy jeans and an Aeropostale tee shirt. She didn't seem to care, though, and momentarily you realized what she had said. Your eyes widened. “There’s someone else from my graduating class who’s coming to Pierce?”

“Yes. I guess you don’t know, then? This is a pretty big school I suppose. Anyway, his name is--”

Footsteps outside the door interrupted her; then there was the sound of a turning door handle. A head popped into the room, then a tall body.

It was Hyungwon. At the time your thought was ‘oh, ok’. You weren’t like the girls who giggled his name in the hallway. Some of them even told stories of bumping into him with a smitten look on their face. There was even one who had stolen an article from the business teacher’s wall, cut out his picture, and taped it to the inside of her binder, with little hearts drawn all around it. This was the ‘Chae Hyungwon shrine’. Some called it that legitimately, others jokingly. As for you, it wasn’t that you thought he was ugly; it was just that you were too worried about yourself to dwell on how cute or handsome he was.

“Dr. Osbourne,” he said with a hint of surprise in his tone. For such a tall, slender person, his voice was surprisingly low and melodic. “It’s good to see you.”

“You as well, Hyungwon.” She flashed her signature smile at him. “Sit down, I was just explaining to (Y/N) that I’m here to get an idea of what you two plan on accomplishing at Pierce.”

He took the chair right next to yours, his left hand coming to rest on the table casually. He was wearing nice slacks and a dress shirt, which didn’t make you feel any better about your casual clothing. His gaze flickered to you, and when he noticed that you were looking at him too, smiled and stuck out a hand. “Uh--I’m Chae Hyungwon. You’re (Y/FL/N), correct? I don’t think we’ve met before, but know who you are--I often help grade business projects and things.”

For some reason, just by smiling in your direction and making himself friendly, he put you at ease. True, he was a bit awkward still, but he worked through it wonderfully. If he had this effect on everyone, no wonder he was so popular. You shook his hand. “Pleased, Hyungwon. I’ve seen your picture and heard of you, of course, but yeah, I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You spent the next hour or so deep in conversation with Dr. Osbourne and Hyungwon. Ironically, in that time, you came to know him better than anyone else in the school probably did. It was pretty much strangers to friends in minutes. He was a gifted student. Though many had been trying to push him into a larger sector, his real dream was entrepreneurship. He wanted to start a small business and be his own boss. He hadn’t quite decided on what the focus of this business would be, but figured it wasn’t a pressing matter now.

When he had finished, and the conversation turned in your direction, you were up front and honest. Like Hyungwon, you didn’t know what you wanted out of a degree. You loved the idea of a small business though, too. The science of economics was fascinating to you, and the logistics of everything. You wanted to do more with the passion you had found in the past few years.

By the time the three of you finished, the bell was about to ring. With the seconds ticking down, Dr. Osbourne wrapped up. “It was nice visiting with you two. We really look forward to having you at the college. I’ll do my best to get you started the right way, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Hyungwon and you replied, almost in tandem. As you stood and reached forward to shake the professor’s hand, you dipped your head in thanks. Hyungwon followed in short order. A few strands of dark brown hair fell out of line with the rest of his carefully-combed style. His famous wide, white smile pushed up his cheeks. In that moment, you came to understand his nickname of “Prince Hyungwon”. Maybe those giggling girls weren't so crazy after all.

The familiar sharp ringing that marked the start of the lunch hour came through the PA. You grabbed your things and headed for the door, the tall boy right behind. If you would have realized what he was going to do, you would have said something, insisted that he didn’t need to bother. However, Hyungwon quickly hopped in front and pulled the door open for you. “Ladies first.”

“Yeah, but--uh--hey, actually, would you like to, um, go out to lunch somewhere together?”

You stopped and turned around, brows furrowed; this kid was full of surprises. His question had certainly caught you off-guard. “Like, on a date, or...?”

It was Hyungwon’s turn to be a little flustered. Though he was pretty good at hiding it, you could tell that it was what you had just unintentionally done. “Wha--what? Yah, we only met like, forty-five minutes ago. You seem pretty cool, and I want to get to know you, I mean since we’ll probably be seeing each other a lot. We’ll have the same classes next year.”

“That’s true. Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It was just the first thing that flashed through my head,” you admitted. “I’d love to go to lunch. Can we stop by my locker first though? I don’t want to have to carry these...” The arm holding your things had gotten tired already, and you hefted everything onto your other.

“Yeah, of course. Lead the way.”

You sat together in his car, duking it out over where to go for almost ten minutes solid. In the end, you both decided on going to McDonalds, driving through, and taking it back to the school. When it came down to it, your personalities were very different. Still, you found that you had a lot of common ground, and to an extent chemistry as well. A lively conversation over your one McDouble and his five was the beginning of your unlikely friendship. Though you might have not guessed that day, the both of you would come to cherish it through the next few years.

That summer, you saw him occasionally at the store, and traded texts every once in a while. Most of your chatter was business things. Your lives were still too different, and so you didn’t really get another chance to hang out.

Then, suddenly, you were moving away from home and into the dorms. You had your schedule, and sitting down in an entry-level business class, clean and primped. No more denim and Aeropostale tee; this was your chance to get ready for the big leagues. You were sparing nothing in looking professional. Not too long after you had a seat, Hyungwon took one next to you, looking equally sharp in a blazer. Like old friends, you fell into conversation. Things flowed easily from one topic to another, until the teacher started class. You traded questions about how the summer went, what you did, your jobs; the weather, your pets, your cars even. You were both on the second floor of the Freshman dorms, though in different hallways, of course.

After that day, the two of you were inseparable. You saw each other all the time, since pretty much all your classes were the same. Before long hanging out during class bled into hanging out outside of it. You ate in the cafeteria together. Studied for tests together. On quite a few projects, you were even paired together. Last but not least you joined all the business clubs together. College would have been lonely at first if you didn’t have each other. Certainly, that was why you stuck to him like glue.

Eventually, a close group of mutual friends and acquaintances started forming around you. In particular, there was a group of six boys. They all had dramatically different interests, and were special in their own ways, but felt a connection to each other. There was Shownu, a math education major and a member of the football team; Kihyun, another business major and lead in the Vocal Jazz ensemble; Jooheon, a talented poet and English major; Hoseok, whom everyone called Wonho, campus hunk and 100% certain that he didn’t know what to do with his life; Minhyuk, elementary education major and definitely the light and sweetheart of the group; and finally, Changkyun, the youngest, Jooheon’s best friend, and also an English major.

Excursions with all or a few of these guys were always bound to be a good time. There were many, many late night drives, on pavement or up to the Ridge. It was a wayside path that led to a spot high above campus, and had a beautiful view. If you took Shownu’s suburban, which you often did, the eight of you would play musical chairs at every stoplight. It was loud, constantly, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You felt that you belonged.

As three semesters passed, other people came and went. Always, however, your constant and rock was Hyungwon. He was solid in mind and emotion, yet empathetic (even when PMS turned you into a demon, thank God). Never did he fail to be ready at a moment's notice, willing to listen or dispense advice. Even, do something as simple as smile when you most needed it. He made it explicitly clear that if there ever was anything you wanted to talk about, vent about, or just tell him about, he was there. You never could figure out how he was able to answer texts within five minutes. Like clockwork, your phone would ping, no matter where he was, what he was doing, or what time it was.

Reciprocating this was a top priority for you. Perhaps you weren’t as good at it as he was, but you never got tired of hearing him complain. Oh, he had a lot to complain about: endless, boring assignments, mostly. Then there was the issue of his mom, who kept nagging her handsome son to find someone to be his wife.

You knew some people whispered about how there must be something more in your friendship with the tall, handsome boy. Some of the single (and not-so-single) girls on campus discreetly stared when he was by your side. It reminded you of the little cliques in the hallways in high school. (Well, some things hadn’t changed.) The assumptions and unwarranted attention weren’t too hard to ignore. You didn’t really care; they could gossip all they wanted. Yes, you certainly loved Hyungwon, but as a best friend, and it was never a secret that he felt the exact same way. Nothing romantic or sexual ever happened between you.

Though, sometimes, you had... moments. It would be the tiniest of triggers, like seeing his picture somewhere. Perhaps even, a good long reminisce about the time you had spent with him that day. In seconds, you would find yourself thoroughly soaked, mind wandering in directions you hadn’t anticipated. Mainly, down. Each time, you channeled the desire somewhere else, rode it out, chalked it up to your hormones, and moved on.

Besides, he had a love life of his own. He wasn’t one of those boys who was easy to woo; in fact, he almost never paid attention to girls who batted their eyes at him. Every once in a while, however, he would find someone and develop a romantic interest. For the most part, he chose well.

That was, except for this one girl who was very coy, catty, and controlling. Everyone agreed that she was a total bitch. She'd talk behind everyone's back, excepting her ‘Hyungie’. Worse than that though was that she was trying to isolate him from everyone else in his life except her. Hyungwon's love for her blinded him to this. Oh, you and the other six guys tried to get him to see the light of what she was doing, but he wouldn’t take it seriously. The fact that he dodged your advice, made excuses, and defended her hurt only a little less than knowing what she was doing.

It wasn’t until she tried to cut his ties with you that he realized her true character. They got into a big fight over the whole thing, and it was a gigantic mess. The kicker for him was that she accused him of seeing you on the side. That got Hyungwon thinking that maybe you were right. If she didn't know the difference between a strong friendship and an affair, she was either clueless or malicious. After that, it was only a matter of days before he was single again.

You had a couple of boyfriends too, but none of these relationships lasted very long. Most of the reason for this was life, and unavoidable life at that. Dating and boys still wasn’t a high priority on your list of life focuses, so you never took any of it very hard. Plus, you had your tall, slender best friend if you needed comfort.

Junior year started like any other. Three weeks into classes, everything was pretty smooth sailing. The coursework wasn't as hard as you had expected; it certainly wasn't the worst. There were challenges, of course, but Kihyun and Hyungwon were always eager to help if you needed it. Likewise, you were there for them. You had just come off of a summer of spending lots of time with the boys between working a full-time job, so you were happy. There was money in savings and food in the pantry of the house you were newly renting. Hyungwon, of course, never went far. His place was a little ways down the street. So you two often stayed over until the wee hours of the morning, watching movies, studying, and talking.

Then, one night, during one of these peaceful, content times, you got a sudden call from your mother. What you heard when you answered and said your hello was completely unintelligible. However, your stomach still dropped like a stone. “Mom--mom, calm down. Say that slower. Please,” you pleaded. Momentarily, your glance flickered up to Hyungwon. He was sitting cross-legged next to you, working on his laptop--well, not really, anymore. Instead he had abandoned his work to gaze at you intently.

For a minute, your mother was sobbing too hard for anything to make sense, despite your efforts to calm her down. Finally, though, she was able to control it enough to deliver the heartbreaking news. Your beloved grandmother had taken a turn for the worse that morning. It was sudden, but definitely not unexpected. She had been sick with cancer for the past half-year, and your parents had taken her in for hospice not too long ago. No one knew how much longer she would last.

You knew that Hyungwon couldn’t hear anything, but picked up that something was wrong. All the blood drained out of your face, and you sounded like a broken record, repeating ‘oh God’ and ‘no, no’. Quietly, he put aside the computer and leaned forward, folding his hands together. His eyes followed your every movement as you pushed yourself up from the couch and paced a trail in the middle of the living room.

"Sweetie, I love you. If you’re so involved in work and classes that you can’t leave, I understand, but your family really needs you right now.”

There was no need for a push; you were already making a beeline to the bedroom. Grabbing a duffel bag, you started to pack, pulling clothes out of your dresser and stuffing them haphazardly in. “Oh God mom, I never thought it’d be so soon.”

“None of us did.” Her breathing became ragged; she choked and nearly broke down again. “Please hurry. I love you so much.” Your phone beeped and the call ended. As you stood there next to the bed, an overwhelming dread and despair washed over you. Why? repeated in your head. Why does it have to be now?

There was a noise to your left. Hyungwon was most certainly there, leaning against the whitewashed doorframe. Though he didn’t say a word, the worry and concern in his eyes asked everything he wanted to know. “It’s--It’s Gramma.” a sigh escaped your lips and the tears rolled down your cheeks as you covered your face with your hands. “She was doing great, well this morning mom came in and she was unresponsive...”

“Oh my God. (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” He was almost immediately at your side, one hand on your shoulder. Practically tackling him, you clung to your best friend’s torso, helpless. There was nothing you could do to stop your tears or hiccuped sobs. In an attempt to muffle the noise, you buried your face in his chest. The weight of his slender arms on your shoulders comforted you a lot. More than that, though, was his steady breathing and knowing that he was with you through this.

When he must have noticed that your emotions leveled out a little, he cleared his throat. “You’re not driving all that way tonight, are you?”

“I--I don’t have a choice.” You answered, and loosened your death grip on him. Lifting your head and wiping the wetness from your cheeks, you turned back to the duffel bag. You had to take stock of what you had placed there in the heat of the moment. “I want to be home tonight, just in case...”

“We’ll take my car.”

The decisive tone in his voice put you beyond words. You were so shocked that your cheeks heated up, and you felt a fresh batch of tears start to form again. “Hyung--Hyungwonnie, no. I can’t let you disrupt your life for me.”

“It’s just a couple of days. I want to make sure you’re safe on the way. Also, it’s probably time that I go visit my mom and dad.”

Again your brain screamed to not let him. You would have protested more, but suddenly you felt stressed. Everything that was about to happen flashed across your mind. There was whether you’d make it back to see her in her last hours; a funeral and dinner; lots of tears; many friends; meeting many strangers. Everyone in the family would be heartbroken. You felt five times heavier, physically, from the thought alone, and so you simply nodded at him.

Half an hour later, you were on the road, a bag of McDonalds sitting in the center console. He had half a McDouble in his mouth at once; you could only nibble on yours. Sitting there, staring out the window, watching the road go by, you were acutely aware of how tired you were. Maybe it was for the best that it was him in the driver’s seat. Normally, he drove within the laws. That night, though, he was doing ten to fifteen miles an hour over the speed limit. Still, he was quiet, calm, and loving Hyungwon. Every once in a while he’d look to check whether you were asleep, or working away on your burger and fries. The two of you didn’t talk the entire way, and, really, didn’t need to.

You made it home in record time, a little under four hours and fifteen minutes. Hyungwon dropped you off in the driveway of your house, putting the car in park and hopping out to grab your duffel bag out of the trunk. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” He said as he handed it to you. “But do you want me to stay nearby tonight? Sleep on the couch? I came down for you, (Y/N).”

Looking up to meet his tender eyes, you shook your head and the corners of your mouth tipped up in a little smile. “No, that’s ok. Thank you so much.” Reaching forward, you wrapped him in a close, tight hug again, like earlier. Maybe you savored his scent a little more, too. Patient as ever, he let you stay there for as long as you wanted. To be quite honest, you wanted it to be forever. That was impossible, though. So after a long time, you finally pulled away and turned to go, trying not to think of him or turn back for another look.

At the door, your father was waiting, and he engulfed you in another bear hug. “Welcome home, sweetie. Who was that young man? Did he drive you here?”

You nodded. “That’s Hyungwon.” He often came up in phone and text conversations with your parents; how could he not? He was your best friend. “He wanted to see his family, too. And he was worrying about me being on the road at this hour.”

Just then your mother appeared, her eyes red and puffy. Her sad countenance brightened when she saw you and she immediately rushed forward to give you a hug, too. “Oh sweetie, I’m so glad you’re safe. I didn’t want you to put yourself in danger by hurrying. If you would have waited until tomorrow, though, it would have been too late.”

“Is she resting now?” You asked, quietly.

“Yes, in a sense. She’s too weak to move, talk, or open her eyes.” It took a huge effort for your mother to struggle through the next couple of sentences. “The nurses eased her pain with Morphine... she can respond to your presence, though.”

“Can I see her?”

“Of course.”

She led you back into the spare bedroom, the one that served as a hospice room. As you took your grandmother’s hand and seated yourself in an armchair next to the bed, you did your best not to cry or plead. Instead, you chose to focus on your favorite memories and how much she meant to you. There was immense comfort in that you had spent time with her when the opportunity had been there.

After an hour, you couldn’t take any more, mentally, emotionally, or physically. Your vision was getting foggy and you caught yourself nodding off a couple times. Also, it was nearly two AM. So, you said your last goodbyes, gave your grandmother a kiss on the forehead, and retired to a nice soft bed. Climbing sleepily into pajamas, you hit the pillow and let the sandman work his magic.

The last person you thought of before you fell asleep was Hyungwon. Maybe you should have told him to stay, because all you wanted at that moment was him there lying next to you, his soothing voice and hands...

Around 5AM, your mother came in and gently shook you awake. “Sweetie, she passed away twenty minutes ago. I just wanted to let you know,” she whispered in your ear, and slipped out again. Drowsiness still had a good hold, but you knew the gravity of the news. You groaned a little and rolled over, somehow managing to find your phone. Within a few seconds, you had sent one crucial text, albeit with an error. At this hour, you figured that he wouldn’t blame you, though.

(Y/N): Shes gone.

Again, you wished for his arms, his voice, anything. But you drifted back into the clutches of slumberland before he could reply.

“(Y/N)... (Y/N), sweetie. It’s almost noon, and Hyungwon is here.” Your mother’s gentle voice and light touch once again brought you back to wakefulness.

“Ok, I’ll be up and around in a second.” You groaned, and craned your neck to watch her nod and leave again promptly.

Rolling over, you noticed your phone’s notification flasher blinking like crazy. Picking it up, you clumsily fought to find the on button, and unlocked it to find a few missed texts.

5:23 AM

Hyungwonie😜😎😊: So sorry (Y/N). Chin up. I’m here for you.

10 Minutes Ago

Hyungwonie😜😎😊: On my way over.

Hyungwonie😜😎😊: Oh, you might not be awake yet.

Hyungwonie😜😎😊: I’m sure you’ll be hungry though. Want to get some lunch?

The idea of food didn’t quite sit well with your stomach, but even so, Hyungwon’s offer sounded great. You needed something to get your mind off of this entire thing. Also, knowing your mother, she’d probably be bawling in front of whatever family was here. You really didn’t want to be in that environment at the moment.

(Y/N): I’d love to. Dunno if I could eat though.

(Y/N): My room’s down the left hallway. Name’s on the door, can’t miss it. I’m still decent, you can come in.

(Y/N): If mom asks, tell her that you’ve seen me in more compromising positions.

You only had seconds to wait before the doorknob turned. None other than Chae Hyungwon entered, a small smile on his face. Just the sight of him made you feel calmer. He sat on the edge of the bed and put one converse-clad foot up on the mattress. “How are you holding up?”

“Okay, I guess. I just want to get out of the house. It’s probably really depressing out there.” You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, yawned, and stretched.

“Your mother’s having a rough time at it, but it’s not too bad. She cornered me to chat a little bit, even. Get to know me.” This didn’t surprise you at all. Your mother was always wanting to meet your friends. Especially, the ones you talked about constantly. No doubt, to finally meet him in the flesh had made her happier. “And ok. As long as you let me bring you back. You’re needed.”

You sighed. “I know. Thanks for being such a good friend, Hyungwon.”

That sly smile grew on his face, and you knew what he was going to say almost before he did. “You’re the other half of it.”

Your mouth dropped open in mock shock. “Hyungwonnie! Stop trying to play down the compliment!” You punched him on the arm, hard but not hard enough to do any damage.

“Owww,” He complained sarcastically.

“Poor baby. Now go away. I need to shower.” All the snarkiness you could muster came out in your retort. He found himself bombarded playfully with pillows as he tried to get to the door. The cheerful laughter was exactly what you needed to brighten your spirits.

After you were clean and judged yourself to be proper enough, you both hopped in the car. Hyungwon knew where he wanted to go, so it was only a quick five minute drive across town. The two of you pulled into a little cafe that had opened recently. He had teased that you would probably become hungrier than you thought upon walking in. Though you wanted very much to prove him wrong...dammit, he was right. As always. The smell was too much for your empty belly to resist, and you ordered a dinner meal. When it finally came, you found that it was bigger than you expected, but you still managed to eat it all. Even Hyungwon’s portion wasn’t as big. He watched you almost proudly as you wolfed it down. That big cutie, he was so used to you eating like a bird.

Once your plates were empty, he paid (despite the fact that you insisted taking up your own check). The two of you left, going to a nearby park. Neither of you meant it, but the next time you looked at the time, you had spent three hours sitting on a bench, deep in conversation. Of course, a lot of it was simply enjoying each other’s presence. Contentedly, you leaned on his shoulder.

It was the same at the funeral the next day, too. He wasn’t only your mental and emotional support, but also in a way your physical support. As you expected, there was a lot of crying, old family friends (literally, some old family friends), and having to meet strangers. Through it all, Hyungwon was right there. Never was he unwilling to hold your hand comfortingly, or be a tall, huggable teddy bear that hugged back. By keeping him close, you managed to snag him a place next to you in the family seating area. (Of course, your skinship might have also unwittingly fooled people into thinking that he was your boyfriend.)

The hours seemed to pass so slowly, it was unbearable. The service dragged on; even when that was over, there was still the internment and dinner. By the time night rolled around, you were so exhausted and wished you could go to bed, but alas. You had to make the trip home that night, as you had only gotten three days off work.

You offered to drive at least part of the way. He would hear none of it, though, and dug a pillow and blanket out of his duffel bag for you to use. As determined as you were to stay awake, his scent in the car and the rain pattering on the window lulled you to sleep. Within half an hour you were snoring contentedly in the passenger’s seat.

When you next awoke, you realized with a start that you were back in your own bed. Early morning daylight shone through the window. You rolled over and looked at the digital clock, which read 8:30 AM. The alarm light was on; drowsily you reached out and hit the button, and the screen flashed 10:30 AM. You never turned it on, so Hyungwon must have done it. He knew you all too well, and your schedule. It was Friday, you didn’t have any classes, but you faced a four-hour shift later. 10:30 would get you up in time to get your ass to work by noon.

You sighed and flopped back on your belly, staring at the woodgrain of your headboard. Hyungwon must have done it. Chae Hyungwon... At least the past couple of days were a little brighter because of your best friend’s presence. And last night...

Little snippets came back to you slowly. You remembered being gently shaken awake. Rain still pattered on the cold glass, making everything sort of surreal. “(Y/N), we’re back.” Hyungwon pulled an umbrella from the backseat and used it to keep you and your duffel bag dry. Unfortunately, by doing so, he got drenched. At any other time you would have insisted that you were fine, but then you had been too tired to care. It was a miracle you were even able to get inside, really. The moment you were next to the couch, you collapsed onto it and was almost asleep again. A strong, gentle pair of hands helped you back to your feet. “Come on, let’s put you to bed properly, hm?” All you could offer was a sleepy nod.

Hyungwon let you lean on him as you made your way to the bedroom. He helped pick your pajamas up off the floor and ease you out of your clothes, too. (Considering that he had accidentally seen you naked before and had grabbed things for you when you were in the shower, this was no big deal.)

Finally, you were under the sheets, laying on your side, all snuggly and warm. Though you were once again on the verge of slumber, you could feel another weight on the bed and a thumb rubbing circles on your brow. Your eyes fluttered open. There was Hyungwon, with that same caring look on his face as what he had the other night in the car. You didn’t know what possessed you at that moment, but you found yourself murmuring, “Hyungwon...could you stay?”

Much to your surprise, he nodded curtly, and ruffling your hair, got up. He walked around to the other side of the bed. There was a bit of rustling, and then you felt him slide under the covers beside you, pressing up against your back. A content hum bubbled up from your throat, and sleepily you rolled over to snuggle into his now-bare chest.

#Monsta X #Hyungwon #Monsta X Hyungwon #Chae Hyungwon #fanfiction #my fanfiction #ellynefics #fluff #f:Visions of You

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