#hi hello i felt like writing (it's 2000 words)

[alsojnpie]

It had never seemed necessary for Papyrus and I to nail down an exact meeting place. “At the park” was always enough for the two of us to find each other. And today, we found each other at the top of the white columned stairs. Well. I guess technically I found him.

It really seemed like he’d been waiting in that exact spot, knowing I was going to be walking that way. But he was watching in the wrong direction; his back turned to me as he waited, watching the stairs. Or maybe he was watching the fountain? Cool air wafted away from flowing water, which I could feel even from across this small plaza. He seemed like he was watching something. I slowed my pace, in order to get a good look at him before he could know that I was watching him.

He was sitting on the wall, leaning forward, with one foot propped up in front of him and the other flat on the ground. A half-eaten lime creamsicle was in his hand, his arm lazily draped over his raised knee.

I guess he must not have been waiting long at all, since he still had popsicle left. As if he was aware of my thoughts, he took a big bite right as I considered it. The wind blew more cool air our way, and ruffled the collar of his too-large shirt and the tall grass on the other side of the wall. I considered, just for a moment, that maybe I should stop walking altogether--just long enough to snap a photo of the picturesqueness of it all. He looked so thoughtful and serious, gazing out towards the lake. Juxtaposed with a popsicle full of lopsided bite marks, this scene was a perfect encapsulation of the monster that was Papyrus.

But I couldn’t. I didn’t have the guts. I didn’t even have the guts to disturb what looked like a satisfying reverie by calling out or otherwise making my presence known. Instead I awkwardly shuffled up to his side and moved to place my hand on his shoulder, but then second-guessed myself and thought, maybe I should tap it instead? It didn’t matter, since he startled and swiveled his head around before I could even decide.

“H...HEY!!” It was always fun to watch his face, and the clear progression of emotions that often played out. Right then it was shock at being approached by a stranger, which instantly gave way to shock at being approached by someone you love, which quickly melted into glee at having been tricked (with a hint of sheepishness for having been facing the wrong way).

“HEH, I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON YOUR WAY UP! WANT SOME?” The softened popsicle was extended towards me. Of course I wanted some, so I obliged him with a slurp that took care of a good half of what was left on the stick.

“..........” His disappointment was palpable, and my sudden guilt must have shown on my face too.

“WAIT, IT’S FINE. REALLY. I OFFERED IT TO YOU, SO...”

“Where’d you get that from, anyway? Do they sell those here??”

“THESE? THESE?? YOU KNOW THEY DON’T SELL THESE HERE! I HAD TO BRING IT WITH.” He gives a good slap to a bag I hadn’t noticed sitting next to him.

“.....They’ll melt.”

“THEY WON’T!”

“Hm. I didn’t know you had popsicle-cooling magic... Neat!” I reached down to the bag, eager for a popsicle of my own and curious about the cooling mechanism.

But the bag was swept away from my grasp, and Papyrus was shaking a finger at me. “YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO GO DIGGING IN MY MAGIC BAG.” He swung his leg over the wall, landing both feet firmly on the ground and standing up straight with an exaggerated gesture. “BUT I AM!” A bright red creamsicle was soon procured, unwrapped and thrust into my hands. I was suspicious of what sort of “magic” was keeping it cold, since it seemed to be already starting to soften, but couldn’t find the heart to complain about getting a treat.

Once Papyrus had started in on his second popsicle (orange this time), the two of us linked arms and began strolling towards the stairs overlooking the lake. From this vantage point, even more of the lake was visible, as well as the vague outline of paths surrounding it on the opposite side. This lake wasn’t particularly big, but it took almost half an hour to walk around a single lap. The paths were forested, at times so thickly that the lake couldn’t be seen, and that made them seem isolated, and longer than they really were. But all of it seemed so much smaller from up here even though it wasn’t that far away at all.

As we began making our way down the staircase, I bit the popsicle with my lips over my teeth then slurped up the melting ice cream inside. It cooled my face but warmed my heart. “You know, I didn’t even realize they still made these popsicles. I used to eat them a lot as a kid.”

“I, DON’T THINK THEY ACTUALLY DO?? YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT A PAIN I WENT THROUGH, TRYING TO FIND THEM!” 

On the lake there wasn’t much visible from here other than a few small paddle boats, but as we got closer I could make out groups of kayakers who seemed to drift effortlessly by.

“IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN THAT LONG AGO THEY WERE DISCONTINUED. I REMEMBER EATING THEM TOO, BACK WHEN THE BARRIER WAS FIRST BROKEN.”

In reality, I knew that the riders were having to work hard to propel their boats forward through the water. I’d never been kayaking, but it had always looked like fun to me. Stealing a glance over at Papyrus, who was still going on about the popsicles, I wondered if it could be a good way to work out together with him, fully expecting that he’d be excellent at it.

Suddenly I realized that my popsicle was gone. “Oh hey...can I have a green one now?” I waved my popsicle stick, licked mostly clean, in front of Papyrus and he grimaced. “It’s been so long since I had these, I forgot how much I liked ‘em.”

“YES, I KNEW YOU HAD EXCELLENT TASTE. OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE TO FETCH YOU A GREEN ONE. BUT I’M NOT YOUR TRASH COLLECTOR! AND IF YOU STICK THAT...THAT STICKY THING IN THE BAG YOU MIGHT-- RUIN THE MAGIC OR SOMETHING!” He made a shooing gesture at my stick, which only made me want to wave it in his face even more. “GO FIND A GARBAGE CAN!”

Seeing as there were no garbage cans nearby, I stuck the stick into my jeans pocket, much to Papyrus’s dismay. But he forgave me enough to serve me a green popsicle after all. This popsicle was suspiciously much softer than the last. “Hey.....you’re not using magic at all, are you?” I squinted at him as almost the entirety of the lime popsicle shell sloughed off in my mouth. “.....*gulp*. You just packed a ton of popsicles and counted on being able to finish them off before they melted.”

Papyrus seemed to be watching the boats on the lake quite intently now but surely he was aware of my accusatory stare out of the corner of his eye. His stern expression twitched with a grin. “I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT."

"..........."

"BUT. I'LL ADMIT THAT IT’S A GOOD THING YOU’RE HERE, SO YOU CAN HELP ME EAT THEM ALL.”

“True. It’ll be a lot of work to finish them all before they melt.”

“WELL, DON’T GET ME WRONG! I COULD MANAGE IT.”

The path down the stairs was lined with shady trees, but the lake itself was surrounded by a sunny, open walkway. I had a feeling that no, he could not manage it. These popsicles were not going to last more than 10 minutes, tops. Even through our combined efforts, there would probably be a couple of melted treats. I slurped up most of the ice cream center as we walked across a platformed break in the stairs, eager to do my part either way. 

But as we stepped down onto the stairs again, I saw something that made me jump in alarm: a wedding party! And their cameras were pointed straight up the picturesque stairs, right at us! Without even thinking, I pulled Papyrus by our linked arms, running back up to the platform before turning off onto a small dirt path running diagonal to the stairs.

The air was heavy and quiet as I pondered whether or not I had photobombed that bride and groom’s photoshoot. Probably so. Even though I hadn’t noticed it until we were very near, that was only because I hadn’t been paying attention. The pictures probably had us there in the background, though it wouldn’t have been very close to the subject. It was a public park, so I couldn’t really feel guilty for it, but even still, I didn’t want to be in some stranger’s wedding photos.

“.......” I wasn’t exactly sure why but suddenly things felt clumsy and awkward. I didn’t know what to say, or whether to say anything, and the little bit of popsicle I had left was completely forgotten. Slowly I turned my eyes up towards Papyrus only to find him calmly nibbling on a new popsicle (a red one now) while looking back in the direction of the couple.

“........HM. YOU THINK....YOU MIGHT WANT TO DO THAT SOMETIME? ME AND YOU?”

My heart, pounding, leapt straight to my throat, blocking out any words or sounds from coming through, while my grip on the popsicle stick tightened. Was this a joke?

No...he was genuinely asking me for an answer, I realized, as he looked down, smiling at me expectantly. But he looked so laid back about it. Somehow, we must have been thinking of two different things.

“U..uh....I, I mean....um...ho-honestly, I’m, I-I’ve.......you know...it feels embarrassing somehow to b-be...honest...but....” My words got quieter as my face got hotter. I went to take a giant bite of the popsicle to cool down, but what had been left of it had already melted and ran down into my fist. 

“HANG ON....OH MY GOD......ARE YOU SCARED OF BEING OUT ON THE WATER???” His suddenly concerned face only confused me even more.

“WAAAAIT, WAIT WAIT WAIT...” Papyrus took a brief look around himself, which at first I took to mean that he was checking to see if anyone was around. But maybe he was looking for a place to hold his popsicle because the next thing he did was quickly suck the whole thing directly off the stick (swallowing it dutifully rather than savoring it, and tossing the stick to the ground), before placing his thick-gloved hands squarely on my shoulders, and leaning in close.

His worried frown was right in front of my face, much closer than it usually happened to be. I tried to listen to him instead of focusing on his features, but it was hard. I hadn’t had this chance to be so close before. His voice wasn’t...quiet... but, it was softer than I expected.

“IT’S OK TO BE SCARED OF THAT. PERFECTLY OK. DON’T....DON’T BE EMBARRASSED. WE DON’T HAVE TO--”

Suddenly everything clicked in my mind. Our eyes met. “To...go kayaking together....?”

“YES. EXACTLY. WE DON’T HAVE TO GO KAYAKING TOGETHER. I’VE NEVER DONE IT MYSELF, BUT....WELL...WHEN I SAW THOSE LITTLE BOATS ON THE BIG LAKE....” He smiled softly, sheepishly even. “I THOUGHT IT LOOKED LIKE FUN.”

Actually, it did sound fun. Really fun. I returned his smile, shyly, even though he didn’t seem to completely understand that look, and grasped his hand, pulling it to my chest confidingly.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too scary....if we were together.”

Sorrowfully, Papyrus shook his head. “THE KAYAK IS A BOAT THAT ONLY FITS ONE PERSON, I’M AFRAID.”

“I meant. Together, in our own boats. Side by side on the water.”

“OH. SURE. YES! I’LL STICK RIGHT BY YOU!!” His grin was nothing short of triumphant.

Then he noticed my hand, clasping his.

“ ............YECCCK!! WHY ARE YOU SO STICKY?!?!?!”

[thebiggerbear]

CJ Braxton x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Summary: You had only meant to call once, remaining anonymous while feeling out the whole helpline thing for yourself. Now, you talk to CJ every Friday night around the same time. When you don't call one Friday, CJ is worried and comes looking for you which presents its own host of problems.

Pairing: CJ Braxton x Female!Reader; CJ Braxton x College Student!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I initially wasn't going to write anything for CJ but this idea popped into my head for this prompt and I just had to write it. And I absolutely fell in love with the dynamic between CJ and the reader (and had so much fun with this). Please forgive any timeline tomfoolery or anything time wise that makes you go "huh?"; I was trying to make this work throughout the season from CJ's entry into the show (and his conversation with Jen about the helpline) to the end.

I wasn't much of a Dawson's Creek person back in the day (I still haven't seen seasons 2-5), so I hope this came out alright. I tried to keep it as 2000-ish as possible. I remember back in the day not everyone had a cell phone like Dawson, Audrey, and Pacey (though a lot of people were getting them moving into the beginning of the decade) so that rule kind of applied here so to speak.

This is meant to take place during s6 before Jen joins The Stand.

Warnings: implied sex; panic attacks; implied anxiety

Word Count: 15k+

CJ Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Jason version | Tom version | Rachel version | Anael version | Alec version | SDV Leah version

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You glanced at the clock, seeing it was 6:59. One more minute and you’d pick up the phone as you did every Friday night and make the call you always did. Your nerves thrummed in anticipation as you stared down the clock, willing the numbers to turn.

Eventually, you got your wish and as soon as the 7 appeared on the clock face you picked up the phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart. After a few rings, the call finally connected. 

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey.”

“There she is.” You could hear his own smile in his tone as he recognized you. “How are you, Jo?”

You winced at the fake name you had given him. At the time, you had quickly scrambled and chose the first name that came to mind. Granted, Joey Potter was in the same school as you so you weren’t too worried about him finding out about either of you seeing as he was from Boston Bay. But as you had talked with him more and more, you really wished you hadn’t given him any name but your own. Even if you were beyond terrified; you felt bad for lying to him.

Why should it matter, right? He was a volunteer counselor for a teen helpline at another college. Why would you care what this one person thought out of you?

Well, unbeknownst to him, you had seen him once and you knew who he was. Thanks to Joey and Audrey’s friendship with Jen, you had come to hear quite a bit about the cute tall guy whose voice made your heart rate speed up way too fast. Jen had even invited him out to a house party and that was when you saw him for the first time. Your nerves got to you and you bounced before one of your friends could make an introduction. Partly because you were afraid he would recognize you from your voice and immediately put a face to the name and possibly be disappointed or worse: he’d know you lied to him. So you avoided him at all costs — well, in person.

It wasn’t like you had planned for this to happen, where you would call a helpline weekly just to speak to a certain boy. That’s not how this started at all.

When you got to Worthington, you were homesick, overwhelmed, and overall terrified. While you eventually eased into the college student lifestyle and Boston was now home, you never really got past the overwhelmed feeling, and terrified had dialed down to being anxious all the time: anxious that you would mess up, anxious that you would fail, anxious that your future wouldn’t turn out the way you planned — all of it. There were days you felt like you were just scraping by, barely making a passing grade (though your final grade usually proved you wrong), and you felt like you were some sort of imposter who was soon to be found out and didn’t really belong. Meeting Joey and her roommate, Audrey Liddell, who lived down the hall from you, helped some, and their introducing you to their group of friends helped even more. But there were still times that you just felt…tightly wound and about to snap. As if you had too many balls in the air and you were about to trip, and all the balls would fall to the ground.

So when Jen mentioned to the group about some guy wanting her to join a teen helpline for the college, you quietly paid attention. She laughed it off — his approach, not the helpline — and she didn’t think she would be right for it so that was that. While everyone else began to talk and laugh about another topic, the wheels in your head slowly started to turn inside your head. A helpline where you could remain anonymous and talk to someone who would listen and could possibly even help. You knew your school most likely had one of those but you wouldn’t even dream of risking it. But a helpline elsewhere where you could talk to someone who maybe understood how you were feeling most of the time, maybe experienced similar things, and you were able to stay anonymous? That you could look into.

After much back and forth in your mind over it, you took the leap and made the call one Friday night after a particularly rough week. You really didn’t think anyone would pick up, it was close to 7:00 and most college kids were either out or getting ready to go out…right?

Before you could answer your own question to yourself, the line connected.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You did what any other person would do; you promptly hung up. You stared at your phone in terror. Someone had picked up. A guy. Just when you were convincing yourself that this was stupid and you needed to take a chill pill and deal.

You argued with yourself in your head for about another minute, hemming and hawing over it all. Wasn’t the whole point of you calling to try to do something about how you’d been feeling? You supposed you could always see a therapist here in town but that could be costly, even with insurance. You also had no desire to tell your parents because they would respond the same way they did the last time you tried to allude to how overwhelmed you were when you had returned home for the summer.

“You should be grateful you got into such a great school, Y/N. Most people would kill to be in your position, going after their degree. You don’t see your classmates moping about, do you? Just because they have classes and homework,” your mother had made sure to prick you with that pin of guilt. “Make the best of it.”

“You know what I think? I think you need to get yourself some friends and then you’ll stop focusing on this so much. If you have nothing to fill your time, of course your mind is going to obsess over what you’re viewing as negative. Try to join a club or a social group. They have keggers all the time. I remember back when I was in college. It was party city every weekend. Maybe let loose a little one of these Saturday nights and things will start to get better. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even make some friends.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you mumbled, tossing your overeasy egg onto its side with your fork, your eyes trained on your plate. You knew he was just trying to help — they both were — but their attitude seemed to imply that you could simply hit an off switch somewhere and you’d stop feeling so overwhelmed. If only.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to take their advice. You had gone to some frat party and it had been one of the worst experiences of your life. You weren’t a big drinker and you weren’t really a party person in general. You didn’t really recognize anyone from your classes or your dorm and the music was so loud, it seemed like a ridiculous notion to try to approach someone and start a conversation. Not something you were very good at anyway. You had no idea how to play the drinking games you saw, other than what you’d seen on TV, and you didn’t want to do something to mess up anyone’s scores if you didn’t do it right. Then some hulk of a guy accidentally knocked into you, deluging you in beer, and he was so drunk, he didn’t even apologize, just kept on going. After about an hour (and the unintended beer bath), you decided to call it quits.  

That night, you had gone back to your dorm room which was blissfully empty, taken a hot shower, and then sobbed into your pillow. So much so that when a drunken Audrey accidentally stumbled into your room, she saw your tear-stained face when your head snapped up and immediately asked what was wrong and why you were crying in her room of all things. Despite the back and forth over whose room it actually was and her drunken state along with the slurring of her words, you two actually kind of hit it off. Before long she had you laughing, something you felt like you hadn’t done in some time. She passed out in your roommate’s bed, much to your roommate’s chagrin, but when Audrey’s boyfriend and roommate came to get her the next morning, you figured that had been it. Your one social interaction with someone who didn’t look at you as an unwanted intruder every single day (like your roommate) or like you were some loner weirdo (like most of your classmates). You knew that Audrey would probably either ignore you the next time she ran into you or she wouldn’t remember you at all. 

Boy, had you been wrong. The day after her hangover, she had been knocking on your door, smiling and telling you that you were going out with her for the night. Just like that. She introduced you to her roommate, Joey, and their group of friends. You had been inducted into their group of friends, just like that.

Eventually, Jen mentioned the helpline that one night and now here you were, staring at the phone as if it was about to come to life and do a dance or something. You waited a few more minutes, deciding you’d try again and hopefully get someone else. There couldn’t be only one person answering phones at a helpline, could there? That would make for some backed up phone traffic and not a good look for a helpline at all. Maybe you’d be lucky and the guy would have already had another caller he was speaking to so another counselor would have to pick up.

When the clock turned to 7:11, you slowly picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number again. You began to jiggle your leg as you waited for the line to connect.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

Oh crap. You froze.

“Hello?”

What did you do? You wanted to hang the phone up again but you were unable to. 

“Hello?” He asked again.

No. You were going to be a mature adult about this and answer him. Just as soon as you could breathe. You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and exhaled a breath.

“Look, if you’re in trouble or can’t talk, just hit a button. Any button will work.” A minute passed while you were trying to breathe, getting ready to talk. “If you don’t have a crisis and you’re not calling to speak to someone here, then I think you should hang up and let other people who need us call in. No use in tying up the phone lines.”

Another minute passed. You really were trying your hardest to get words out but your chest was tight and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your heart was racing yet you were frozen. This happened sometimes but usually you were by yourself, not with someone waiting for you to speak on the other end of the phone line. It also happened a couple of times while you were out with your friends, but usually you hid out in a bathroom stall until it passed and then you left to go back to your dorm with the excuse of a test the next day or a project due, whatever you could come up with on the fly. You didn’t understand why it was happening to you right now, though.

“Alright, I’m going to hang up now.”

You smashed a key on your phone so fast that you heard a loud annoying sound in your ear. Immediately, the guy’s tone changed. 

“Okay, I’m here. If you’re in trouble, hit the key again. If you’re not but can’t talk at the moment, don’t hit it.”

You didn’t hit any more keys and gasped for air that just wasn’t coming.

“Good. I’m glad you’re okay. Is someone in the room with you and that’s why you can’t talk? If so, hit the key again.” 

You moved over to your bed and laid down. That was the fastest way to get your body to relax when you had the option you’d found out.

“Okay, so you’re alone but you can’t talk but you’re not in trouble. Can you just try to say one word or make a sound so I know you’re really okay?” 

You removed your hand from the mouthpiece. “T-Trying,” you rasped out. Holy crap, this was a bad episode you were having. You were completely mortified. Perhaps you really should hang up. You were worried, though, that now he might notify someone or think you really were prank calling the helpline. Either way, you were bound to get in trouble and even more embarrassed, and that just made your chest tighter.

“Okay. That’s good. I’ll take that. Do you have asthma or something similar?” 

Great. That’s how bad you’d sounded; he thought you might actually have some sort of breathing issue. Well, technically, you were struggling to breathe right now so it made sense that he would think that but if he only knew the actual answer was something that was beyond ridiculous and couldn’t be explained away as something as serious as asthma. 

“No,” you whispered, rubbing at the spot in your chest where a mix of discomfort and a heavy-rock-feeling sat. 

“And you’re sure you don’t need to go to the hospital to get checked out?” He sounded concerned now. 

“No,” you repeated, staring up at your ceiling, your vision blurring with building tears. All you wanted to do was give this helpline thing a shot since nothing else seemed to be working, and here you had gone and made it so much worse. On top of that, you were frustrated that you couldn’t even do something as simple as answer a person when they said hello on a phone call that you made to them. What was wrong with you? 

“Okay. That’s good. Why don’t I talk for a minute so you can relax?” A tear slipped down your cheek when you realized he must have heard your heavy exhales over the phone. “Like I said before, my name is CJ. I’ve been with the helpline for a while now. I’m here four days a week. I try to schedule shifts around my classes and pick up a few extra when I’m able. Before you called, I was doing some reading for my Philosophy class. It’s not my major but I had to take another humanities course. It was that or religion so…philosophy it was.”

You closed your eyes and focused on his voice. It was actually very soothing and it was helping.

“Between you and me, I’m not the best student.” Your eyes opened and you stared at the ceiling, listening intently. “I mean, I do okay in terms of grades, but I’m not exactly a frequent flier on the Dean’s list.” He chuckled and after a moment, he asked, “How about you?”

You swallowed, feeling the slightest bit of easing up on your chest, almost if it was allowing the words through. “I do okay.” You didn’t sound as raspy as before but you still had a faint wheeze at the end. You were coming out of this, slowly but surely.

“That’s good. College sure isn’t easy, by any means. When midterms roll around, I always get a little more stressed. I usually have to blow off some steam to keep it all balanced, you know? Or else I get easily overwhelmed. I have to remind myself to take it one class at a time, one day at a time. But easier said than done sometimes, right?”

“Right.” You knew what he was doing but since it seemed to be helping, you played along. He was getting to the heart of the issue while also giving you time to come back down. You’d only been on the phone with him for close to ten minutes and already you felt much better than you had when the call started. 

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

“A little.” 

“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Is my being the one to talk helping any?”

“Actually…yeah,” you breathed out. 

“Does this happen a lot?”

You bit at your lip, not really wanting to admit it, but you had called for this very reason, hadn’t you? “Yeah.”

“Around midterms or anytime?”

“Anytime.”

“Even when you’re not in school?”

“Sometimes,” you whispered. “But mostly when I’m here.”

“So school related then?”

“Kind of.”

He was quiet for a moment and you wondered if you had said something wrong or if he was looking instructions up in a pamphlet or something for this sort of thing. 

“Hey, did you see Phantom Menace when it came out last year?”

That caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected to switch gears so quickly. “Um, no?”

“You’re not a Star Wars fan, I take it?”

He didn’t sound disappointed so you chalked that up to being a good thing. Most guys you’d met either were completely into Star Wars or weren’t into it at all. “I don’t know if I’d call myself a fan but I’ve seen the original movies.” 

“Uh oh, you’re not one of those prequel snobs, are you?” He teased.

“No? I just saw the trailer and I wasn’t interested.”

“Well, a buddy of mine and I went to see it when it came out. The theater was packed. I’m talking bursting at the seams.” A small smile started to creep onto your face at his energy. “And when the lights went down and the opening credits started rolling and the music started up, everyone was cheering and clapping. It was pretty awesome. My buddy ended up loving it. He’s the biggest Star Wars fan you’ve ever met.” A moment later he asked, “So besides anything in a galaxy, far far away, have you seen any other movies that came out?”

“I went to see The Green Mile. My, uh, my dad is a big Tom Hanks fan and a Stephen King fan so he really wanted to go.”

“And you?”

“I liked it. Though it was sad.” 

“I didn’t see it yet but I got the feeling that it was going to be a bit of a heavy one.”

“It was, but it was worth it.” You noticed then that you were talking to him normally, you were breathing normally, your chest was still a little tight but that was to be expected, and you were sitting up with your back to the wall. You had gotten through your latest episode and this CJ had helped. Perhaps there was something to this helpline thing after all.

“I’m definitely going to check it out then. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Almost as if he had heard your thoughts, he then said, “You sound a lot better than earlier. Hopefully, you’re feeling better, too?”

“Um, yeah.” You anxiously tucked your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. You know, being patient…”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Right.”

“So, you feel up to telling me what’s going on and why you called tonight or did you want to talk about something else?”

You bit at your thumbnail, unsure. “I feel bad. I’ve taken up so much of your time already.” You glanced at the clock and saw that you had been on the phone with him now for almost half an hour. 

“Don’t worry about the time and I don’t want you feeling badly.” He sounded completely genuine when he said it and it made you feel a little bit better about monopolizing his time like this. “This is why I’m here. So, if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

You still weren’t certain you should take him up on his offer. “Are you sure? What if there’s someone else who needs to call in who is having an actual crisis and you’re stuck on the phone with me? I would feel bad if they didn’t get to talk to you when they needed to because of me.”

“I’m not the only one here so if someone else does call in, they’ll speak to one of the other counselors who can help them. While we’re on the subject, what you’re experiencing is just as valid as what anyone else might be experiencing. I’m not stuck on the phone with you, I want to be talking with you and try to help you in any way I can. And yes, I’m sure.”

You contemplated it, turning it over and over in your brain. This was why you called. This was why you decided to give the helpline a try, to speak to a stranger who would listen and possibly be able to help you and if not, at least maybe understand where you were coming from. If he was willing (and he had been helpful so far), then why not?

“Would it help if I promise not to make any more Star Wars references?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Tremendously.” 

“Deal,” he laughed. You liked the sound of his laugh; it was warm, inviting, and put you instantly at ease. This CJ seemed to know what he was doing and you could now see why people called in to speak to him and other counselors like him. 

You nervously licked your lips and decided to take the plunge. You told him everything. You told him about how it started when you began college, how the classes and workload immediately overwhelmed you. How you struggled to keep from drowning in assignments and tests and projects and papers. How you started to develop these episodes and how badly you felt during them. How you had tried to talk to your parents but they just didn’t seem to hear you, dismissing it as an issue that would be resolved by you being more outgoing and feeling more grateful that you had such an educational opportunity when many didn’t. How you could be in a room full of a hundred people and still feel completely alone, especially when an episode kicked in. You’d even told him about your failed attempt at attending the frat party. He had rarely talked, giving you the floor, but he had interjected a couple of times to either support you or make some helpful suggestions. Other than that, he just listened. By the time you finished, you felt like you had told him your whole life story, but you had to admit that you felt a lot better once you got it all off your chest, which incidentally, was feeling lighter. And this time, someone listened and actually heard you. That made all the difference.

You glanced at the clock for the first time in a long time and noted it was 10:16. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your cheeks immediately heating up. Had you really been talking nonstop for over three hours? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I should let you go so you can speak to other callers.”

“My shift ended fifteen minutes ago actually.”

Your heart stopped and however much better you’d been feeling, felt like it went right down the drain. How could you have been so self-absorbed and only concerned with your problems that you’d talked his ear off and used up his whole shift? Not one other person got to talk to him tonight and you didn’t even go to that school. Seriously, how selfish were you? “I-I’m so, so sorry. You should have stopped me or told me there was a time limit per call.” You were full on babbling now. “I didn’t mean to— I am so beyond sorry. I’m going to let you go. Thank you so much for your help and I hope you have a good rest of your night. Don’t worry. I promise I won’t call again. Good night.”

You went to hang up the phone when you heard loudly, “Please don’t hang up.”

You put it back to your ear, your brows drawing together in confusion. “But you said your shift was over.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “But that’s okay. If I wanted you to stop talking, I would have said something. And did I ask you to stop?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then I didn’t want you to stop talking. It seems like there’s a lot on your plate at the moment or else you wouldn’t have called, right?”

“Okay, yeah. But—”

“So it’s good that you called and I’m glad I was able to help. And for the record, there’s no time limit on a call.” Someone said something to him in the background and he quietly responded though you couldn’t hear what he said. “I’m actually gonna get going because my replacement is here and they don’t have another place to sit.” 

“Right. Of course. Again, sorry.”

“But,” he continued. “I’m going to be here Monday afternoon around 2 so if you want to call back then we can talk again.”

“I have class then.” You truly did but even if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be calling him back. You had taken up enough of his time.

“I’m here until 6:00 that day.”

“I have a study session after that class.” Okay, maybe that was a lie. “But I appreciate the offer. Thank you and have a good—”

“I’m back on again next Friday. Same time. Why don’t you call me then if you’re free?”

“I appreciate it, CJ, but don’t worry. If I need the helpline again, I’ll call, but you helped me a lot tonight and I feel better so…I won’t need to call. Again, I’m sorry I monopolized your shift.”

“Do me a favor and call me again anyway, even if you are feeling better. I’d like to check in with you and the only way I can do that is if you call me back.”

“Right. Being anonymous and all,” you mumbled. Thank God for that. You didn’t think your embarrassment at talking his head off for over three hours while you complained about your life would ever go away.

“Yeah. So, please, if you can call me next week, same time, even if you just tell me you’re feeling better and hang up. That’s all I ask.”

You supposed you could do that, after he’d generously taken the time to hear you out, after he’d helped you through your episode. “Okay.”

“Friday, 7:00. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

And so had begun the tradition of you calling him every Friday night at 7:00. You hadn’t intended for that to happen, honestly. But each time you would talk to him, ranging in times from twenty minutes to an hour and a half (you refused to ever get near that three hour mark again, no matter what he said), he would always ask you to call him back the following week, making you promise that you would. Over time, you noticed that your overwhelmed feeling had lessened considerably (though not completely gone) and instead of having an episode (or panic attack as CJ called them) twice weekly, they had now diminished to one every couple of weeks. And even then they weren’t as bad as they had been, thanks to the techniques CJ suggested you try using. Things had gotten better for you and you had to admit, the helpline definitely was a useful service for students, though for your own personal experience, you attributed a lot of that to CJ.

Speaking of which, that was how you two began to get to know one another, moving from strictly counselor and caller into a tentative friendship. When initially speaking to him, he began to feel like a friend you were just catching up with on how your past week had been, and then it actually sort of became that. He started to tell you more details about himself and now you knew what type of music he liked, what he was majoring in, where he had grown up, and why he had joined The Stand. He had even shared his backstory with you and why he didn’t drink when you told him how uncomfortable college parties made you in general. The conversation was no longer one-sided and you’d come to like it that way.

Until the day came when he asked your name. 

“My name?”

“Well, yeah, so I know what to call you. It feels weird calling you “you” all the time,” he laughed.

“Um…” You were practically crapping bricks. You didn’t expect this.

“Just your first name. You’ll still be anonymous,” he reassured. “It could be a nickname if you want. Or your middle name. Just something.”

You ran over it in your mind. What if he still somehow managed to find out who you were if you gave him only your first name? Sure, you weren’t going to the same schools, but what if somehow someway…? Plus, your friends weren’t exactly fans of CJ right now. Apparently, Jen had a major crush on him but her hopes were dashed when he told her he didn’t date (something he had told you long before you heard it via your friends) and then hooked up with Audrey the same night. You hadn’t been there that night, opting to stay in and study for a huge test you had coming up in your Lit class, and after hearing that not only had CJ been present but also what happened, you were glad you had made that decision. Audrey and Joey were on the outs thanks to the events of that night and now so were Jen and Audrey once it was revealed that CJ and Audrey had slept together, right before Pacey punched his face in. 

When that Friday rolled around, you almost didn’t call him. You were angry and hurt yourself. Angry because his careless actions had hurt more than one of your friends, and hurt because truth be told, you had started to crush on him yourself from afar. You trusted him with the details of your life, very personal details (without giving specifics obviously), and he’d helped you. How could he be this helpful, compassionate guy working at a helpline but turn out to be this scummy, advantage-taking, selfish player? You couldn’t reconcile in your head the CJ you were getting to know with the CJ your friends saw.

“That’s just the thing, Y/N,” Jen told you when you wondered aloud how a helpline counselor could do something like he had with your friends. “Most people who go into those positions to help other people are usually a thousand times more screwed up than the people they’re helping. Audrey’s been hurting, as you know, and she’s been acting out and he saw an opportunity. Case closed.” But it wasn’t case closed for you. Not by a mile. You wanted answers, but how could you get them while remaining anonymous?

So that following Friday at 7:00, as you angrily punched in the helpline number, you had no idea how you would do it but you were determined to get them. And if you didn’t like what you heard, then this would be your last call and you would close the book on CJ and your budding friendship for good.

It caught you off guard, though, when you heard a different voice this time.

“Hello, Helpline. This is David.”

You nearly hung up. You knew David; he was starting to hang out with your group more and more, especially Jack. What if he recognized your voice?

“Hello?”

You forced yourself to ask the burning question on the tip of your tongue, albeit with a slightly higher pitch of voice. “Hi, is CJ there?”

“No, I’m sorry.” You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and let out a sigh of relief. Whether it was because David didn’t recognize you or you didn’t have to confront CJ right this second, you couldn’t be sure. Probably a bit of both. “He called out sick and asked me to fill in for him. He should be back next week, though.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call then. Thank you.” You quickly hung up before he could ask you anything else.

The next Friday you called, you got CJ.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding relieved when he heard your voice. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” You were standing in your dorm room, staring out the window and watching the rain, your arms crossed. You weren’t as angry as last week, the extra time allowing you to let a cooler head prevail, but you still wanted answers. “How are you?”

“Honestly? I’ve been better.”

“I’m sorry. I know you were sick last week. Has it not gotten any better?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was feeling lousy and just needed to take a day, you know?” And he didn’t need to be parading around a still-healing black eye that might prompt questions, you bet. 

“I get that.”

“God, I wish I had your number outside of this so I could call you.” Your jaw tightened. Perhaps your friends were right; there was a whole other side to him. A side you didn’t really want to get to know. “I really could’ve used a friend to talk to.”

You unclenched your jaw when you realized he wasn’t hitting on you and when you thought about it, he sounded genuinely miserable and he never had in any of your previous conversations, even when your friendship formed. It was unlike him, or at least the CJ you had gotten to know. Just like this behavior your friends had told you about sounded unlike him. “Well, I’m here now, if you want to talk.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make this about me. You called in to talk, not to hear about my problems,” he laughed, sounding nervous. That was a first.

“I’m sure. What are friends for?”

He told you everything while not naming anyone. He didn’t hold back anything and you realized that while he didn’t know who you were, he was giving you the side that had been missing from the story your friends told you: his side. Every side has a story after all. He admitted he had messed up big time. He had hurt Jen (or Blondie as he called her), he had been an ass to Pacey (or The Guy Who Punched My Face) when he had no right to be, and he should have never hooked up with Audrey (or The Girl That Came Out of Nowhere). Apparently, Jen had said to him the same thing she said to you and it got him thinking, along with some things Audrey had said. He felt like a huge jerk and all he wanted to do was keep his head down and move forward, get back on the right track that his life had been headed in. You stayed silent as he talked and before you knew it, the clock read 9:47. 

“Your shift is over soon,” you whispered once he was done.

“Yeah, but I still have a few minutes. So what do you think? Am I a complete jackass or what?” He let out another nervous chuckle.

You briefly pressed your lips together as you thought of how best to answer that. In the end, you were as honest as you could be without giving yourself away. “I think we all make mistakes sometimes. But as long as we recognize them, apologize to those we’ve hurt, and try to do better, then that’s all that matters. So no, not a complete jackass.” 

This time when he laughed, it sounded relieved. “Thanks.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for,” you repeated his words back to him, teasing him slightly.

A moment of silence passed between you before he asked, “Will you call again next week?”

That made you do a double take. He never asked you to call the following week like that. Usually he asked in the form of making you promise you would call or he’d tell you he’d talk to you the following week. But when he asked like this, he sounded uncertain, vulnerable. You knew then that more than just his face and ego had been hurt by recent events. Perhaps you were a fool but you believed his remorse to be genuine. 

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’ll call next week.”

And when you did, he immediately hit you with the name question. 

“Earth to you…” He called, snapping you out of it and reclaiming your attention. “See? It doesn’t really work,” he laughed.

You had to be careful here. Not only because you didn’t want him to find out who you were but also because if your friends ever found out, especially Audrey…you were toast. 

You opened your mouth to give him the name of a classmate that couldn’t be traced back to you but “Jo” came tumbling out instead.

“Jo?”

Oh crap. You had Audrey and then Joey on your mind and it just slipped out. Crap, crap, crap. “Yeah,” you lied. “Jo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jo.” You could practically hear him smiling, happy to have gotten a name out of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, angry with yourself. “Nice to meet you, too,” you mumbled before you dropped your head into your hands.  

So now here you were, him thinking you were Jo from the college he was attending, and you were calling him every single week at the same time like clock work. You had long ago stopped questioning the morality of what you were doing and it seemed that he didn’t appear to question it at all. He was always happy to hear from you and your conversations were more personal now. You couldn’t deny the way your heart rate spiked every time you heard his voice when he picked up the call or how whenever his name was mentioned in passing by David or Jen (though rare these days), you would specifically tune in, listening for anything that had to do with him. You had it bad and you knew it, but it was also a safe crush from a distance and would be staying that way.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your reverie and remembered CJ has asked you a question. “I’m good. Really good. How about you?”

“Really good, huh? I’m happy to hear it and happy to be hearing from you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I got that paper back and you were so right, The Writing Center really helped. I can’t believe I never thought to try it before. Thank you so much for that idea.”

“I’m happy to be of service,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it helped. And the club thing? Did you give that a try as well?”

Your smile dropped. He had been trying to urge you to join a club or a group where you had shared interests with other students. His theory was that if you gave a small group of people a shot doing a social activity you might enjoy, that it might help decrease your nervousness in other social settings. Even though you told him you had a group of friends you regularly met up with, he didn’t think expanding your social circles would be a bad thing to consider. “No? I told you, CJ, that’s not really my thing.”

“I get that, I do. How about this? If you want, I could meet you at Student Activities and we could take a look around together, get some info. No pressure, of course, but you wouldn’t have to walk in there alone. I know it can be a bit much sometimes. I remember my first semester here and I didn’t know where to stick my head.”

You froze. That was the first time he’d ever mentioned the possibility of you meeting in person. Perhaps if you were really Jo from Boston Bay College, you could take him up on it or give him your number like he’d asked you for or call his room number like he’d offered up a few times now so you could talk outside of the helpline. But you weren’t and so you had to decline. “I appreciate the offer but it’s not my thing so I’m going to have to pass. Sorry, but thank you, though.” 

“If you’re sure.” He sounded slightly disappointed but maybe that was just you imagining it. 

“Yep, I’m sure. Uh, so listen, I can’t stay on long. My roommate and her boyfriend will be here in less than ten so I’m gonna go so I can get out of here before I get hit by the clothes hurricane that’s most likely to happen.” It was a complete lie. Your roommate, Stacey, had actually gone to visit her boyfriend for the weekend. You would have peace and quiet and the dorm to yourself for two whole days. 

He chuckled good-naturedly. “I don’t blame you. If you get bored later, I’m here at The Stand until 10:00, like you already know, and then I’ll be back in my room. You can call me then if you want to talk. I”ll be up for a while so don’t worry about calling too late.”

“Oh. Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that.” You weren’t going to and he knew you weren’t going to. You hadn’t the last two times he’d made the same offer and the last two times you’d given him the same response.

“Jo?”

“Yeah?”

“If I don’t hear from you… Call next week, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling, like always. You said your quick goodbyes and you hung up, letting out a heavy breath. While he had been urging you to contact him personally, he had never mentioned meeting him before. That was different. And it worried you at the same time. Why the offer now? Granted, he was just trying to be helpful to you, given the context, but what if he began to find other ways to work it in like he already had about your phone numbers? What if he continued to push to meet Jo? 

You shook your head, telling yourself that you were doing it again, worrying over things that might not happen. You would cross that bridge when you came to it, something CJ had once said to you that you kept for yourself as your own personal mantra. You would wait to see how next week would go.

But unfortunately, the call never happened.

You had been out with Jack and David on Thursday night at Hell’s Kitchen, when Jen waltzed in, smiling and taking a seat. Joey and Emma were working and Pacey was supposed to join you later.

“You worked late today,” Jack commented. 

“Training took a little bit longer than expected. We were supposed to be done at 6:00 but then our relief called and said they were going to be late. Of course, since CJ was going to stay, I wasn’t going to just leave him there.” Your ears perked up at the mention of CJ. You knew Jen was training as a counselor and he was the one training her. Jen had begrudgingly forgiven CJ but it was also obvious to you all that she still had a crush on him. While you couldn’t blame her, you also felt for her. CJ told you that he had to make it clear once more to Blondie that he wasn’t looking to date though he was happy she had finally started training at the helpline. He really believed she would make a great counselor once she settled into it. 

Talk about complicated. Jen was your friend and you didn’t want to see her get hurt, but you could also understand if CJ didn’t see her that way, he just didn’t. They were both your friends now and you just wanted them both to be happy, whatever that looked like.

“But then, listen to this,” she continued. “Our relief, this guy named Seth, sees me there with CJ and starts teasing him about how he’s racking up all of these beautiful girls through the helpline, not leaving any for him.”

“Jen,” Jack warned. 

“No, listen. This is good. You’re going to like this.” 

Jack sighed but let her finish.

“CJ laughs it off but then Seth mentions how he has this girl calling him every Friday night, around the same time, and she talks his ear off for hours.”

You were about to take a bite of your french fry when you froze. Your heart dropped down to your feet. 

“And so I ask if this is true and CJ says that we’re there to help everybody, time limits aren’t a thing, and it doesn’t matter how many times a caller calls back or they speak to the same counselor. As long as they get the help they need.”

“He’s right,” David chimed in.

“But then Seth starts teasing him again and asks if CJ can give him tips on how to get dates using the helpline. CJ laughs and says sure. I mention how he said he wasn’t looking to date and Seth says he tells every girl that so he doesn’t have to commit but can still get what he wants.” You dropped your fry back into your basket, trying to ignore the rolling nausea in your stomach. 

“I don’t know about that,” David chuckled nervously.

“He didn’t deny it, David. He just laughed and walked away. Can you believe it? He’s using the helpline to get girls. Talk about abusing the system, not to mention the absolute lack of morality.” You definitely felt like you were going to be sick. “I quit. If that’s what guys like him and Seth are using that helpline for then I don’t want any part of it. And CJ? Audrey was right. He’s a skeevy player. I can’t believe I didn’t see it this whole time.” Jen shook her head. You were getting that all-too familiar falling feeling again. 

“Wait, seriously? Guys are using the helpline to pick up girls?” Jack turned to David.

“No. Jen, I’m sure Seth was just kidding and CJ was just playing along. Nobody is using the helpline to pick anyone up. Everyone that works there knows the rules and they’re there to help callers. How could they pick anyone up, anyway? It’s all anonymous.”

“Yeah, but if they pushed for a date or something… It could happen.” You immediately felt your stomach jolt and like someone had punched you in the gut at the same time.

“It could,” David agreed. “But I doubt it does.”

“He has the same girl calling him every single week at the same time. What would keep her calling like that?” Jen interjected. You glanced away from the table for a moment, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer David would give.

“Is that true? Every week?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“It’s true,” David confirmed. “I actually got her once when CJ was out sick. She sounded nice.” If you could have, you would have given him a smile, thankful for David’s attempt to defend CJ and the helpline and unknowingly you. But right then, you were trying not to hyperventilate. “And CJ appears to be helping her. He said she’s made a lot of progress since they started talking.”

“He talked to you about her?” Jen looked shocked. Oh God. Your chest started to feel tight.

“Only because he was going to be out sick that one day and in case she called and then decided to talk to me, he wanted me to be up to speed in case she needed something. That’s all.”

“I feel badly for this girl. She probably thinks CJ is some great guy and she can trust him but based on what Seth said, he’s simply playing the long game with her. A girl whose trust he’s taking advantage of. I’m telling you, Audrey was right about him and I should’ve seen it.” Jen rubbed at her forehead. It was beyond hot in here and even though it wasn’t crowded, the room started to feel smaller.

“I don’t think that’s true, Jen,” David defended. “I don’t think he’s looking to take advantage of this girl at all. I think he truly wants to help her.”

“Yeah, that’s how it started with Audrey and look at how that turned out.” David dropped his gaze to his food, continuing to poke at it with his fork. There wasn’t much he could say to that though he wished he still would. “And if that’s true, he only wants to help her, then why was he laughing along when Seth talked about her and how she keeps him on the phone for hours? How is that helping her?”

You felt like your feet were locked in cement but your legs were wobbling to and fro. And yet you also felt like a large boulder was now sitting on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. How could any of this conversation be happening right now?

Jack glanced from David to Jen. “Perhaps David’s right, Jen. Maybe he was just playing along. That’s what guys do sometimes. You know that.”

“I don’t think that’s what that was. Either way, I quit.”

Jack and David started to urge her not to quit, but at that point you’d had enough. Your hands were clammy and you felt that feeling on your forehead, too. You needed cold, and air. “Excuse me,” you nearly rasped out and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. You could feel your dinner coming back up. Joey stopped you in your trek.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

You shook your head and dodged past her, hurrying to the bathroom. Once you reached it, you locked the door and pushed into a stall just in time. You emptied the contents of your stomach and once you were finished, you made your way towards the sink, splashing cold water on your face. You could feel the panic attack you were having and you tried your best to ward it off but to no avail.

You slid down the wall and struggled to breathe, trying the techniques CJ had taught you. You didn’t want to think about him right now but you also didn’t want to be having this happen while your friends sat right outside. Not to mention, you knew Joey was going to come check on you. You gasped for air and rubbed at your chest. Once it passed, you unlocked the door, made excuses to Joey and your friends, went home, showered, and cried yourself to sleep. For the first time in a while, you’d had a particularly bad episode and ended the night in tears: two things you hadn’t done since you’d started talking to CJ regularly. You felt as if all the progress you’d made was like a house of cards that fell to the ground after one card was pulled out from under you. And all because you’d trusted the wrong person. 

So you stopped calling and instead, spent your Friday nights at the library, studying, so you wouldn’t be tempted to pick up the phone and call to confront the guy who’d betrayed your trust.

<-->

A few weeks later, you were sitting on Joey’s bed, watching Audrey unload her closet onto her mattress. Apparently, she was going to rehab, for real this time. She was ready to confront the fact that her drinking was out of control. Joey was helping her sort through everything and handed you things to fold and place in her suitcase. Eddie had already taken one heavy suitcase down to the car, along with a very high Bob. 

You all looked up when there was a polite knock on their dorm room door. Joey got up to answer it, most likely thinking it was Eddie, but when she opened the door, it revealed another guy altogether.

There stood CJ, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a jacket covering his tall frame. Your heart skipped a beat before falling into your stomach but then leaping back into place and pounding faster than before for a whole other reason. You immediately grabbed a magazine from the nightstand and began sifting through it, your jaw clenched and you refusing to look in his direction.

Before anyone could say a word, Audrey groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw CJ hold up a placating hand in her direction. “I’m not here for you, okay? I’m actually looking for someone.”

You froze.

“I bet you are,” Audrey grumbled.

Joey crossed her arms. “Who?”

“A girl by the name of Jo who lives in this building.”

You mentally cursed yourself. You knew you had let the name of your dorm building slip once by accident but he hadn’t appeared to have heard you so you thought you were in the clear; apparently, he had heard you. Crap.

Joey tensed. Uh oh. You had a feeling this was going to come back to haunt you at some point. Here it was. “Why are you looking for me?”

CJ’s brow drew together. “You’re Jo?”

Audrey was suddenly at Joey’s side. “Yeah, why are you looking for her?”

“Jo is a girl who called the helpline. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks and I just wanted to check on her.”

Her distaste for CJ forgotten, Audrey turned in shock to her roommate. “Joey Potter, you called the helpline?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous, Audrey.” Joey then looked at CJ. “I don’t know who this girl is but it’s not me. Good luck in your search.” She went to close the door but CJ stopped her.

“Wait, so you’ve never heard of a girl named Jo who lives in this building?”

“No,” Audrey snapped. “Now, go away.”

“Hold on a second. Because Joanna Martin who lives on the 2nd floor isn’t her and has never heard of her. Now you’re saying you’re not her and you’ve never heard of her either?”

Audrey gave him a nasty smirk. “Imagine that. A girl using a fake name calling an anonymous helpline. She probably knows what a sleazeball you are and didn’t want you stalking her. If she was calling the helpline, she’s probably got enough on her plate. Best of luck, Stalker Boy.”

Audrey went to shut the door in his face but again, he stopped it.

“I don’t really care what you think of me. You want to think I’m the bad guy in everything that happened with us? That’s fine. But I’m actually trying to find this girl to help her.”

“Help her into your bed, you mean.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, I bet it is but whatever.” Audrey rolled her eyes and turned back to you. “Y/N, have you ever heard of this girl he’s looking for?”

Your eyes snapped up to them and all three of them were now staring at you, waiting for your answer. Crap. CJ was looking right at you. Double crap. You shook your head and went back to your magazine. 

“There you go. No one here has heard of her. Buh-bye now.” 

Audrey was closing the door when Joey’s phone started to ring. Joey, who had gone back into the whirlwind of clothes, looked over at you. “Hey, can you get that? Eddie might be calling from his cell phone.”

You nodded and picked up the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. Can I talk to Joey? Audrey’s friend, Bob, is getting a little impatient down here.”

“Sure. One sec.” You handed the phone to Joey. “It’s Eddie.” She took it and began rolling her eyes when Eddie was most likely telling her the same thing he had just told you. She came over, zipped up the suitcase you had been working on after dumping more things into it. “Do you mind taking this to Eddie downstairs? He’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Sure thing.” You tossed the magazine back onto the night stand and grabbed the suitcase handle, picking it up and placing it on its wheels. You slipped your worn paperback copy of your book into the back pocket of your jeans, intent on returning it to your room when you came back up. Now that you knew CJ was trying to track you down and he was in the building, you didn’t feel comfortable having any clues pointing to your identity out in the open like that. 

You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and began to pull it along. “Oh my God, Aud. Do you really need this many outfits?” 

She looked up from her cell phone and gave you a smile. “Of course. Rehab is bound to be drab so I’m going to make it fab.” She shot you a wink and opened the door for you. 

You laughed and shook your head, crossing over the threshold. You made your way to the elevator and pushed the button. While you were waiting, you heard behind you, “Need some help with that?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. CJ was right there, behind you, talking directly to you. While a part of you wanted to tell him to take a hike, your desire for anonymity was greater. You turned and gave him a wan smile, shaking your head. His green eyes were intent on you and you didn’t care for that one bit. It was like he knew who you were without you even having to say it. Luckily, at that moment, the elevator dinged and the door opened. You went to roll the suitcase onto it when a hand picked it up out of nowhere.

“Let me give you a hand,” CJ offered, not waiting for you to reply and stepping into the elevator. You paused for a moment, considering not getting onto it with him but Eddie was expecting you and Joey and Audrey were waiting for you to come back. You let out a quiet sigh and stepped inside, hitting the button for the Lobby and waiting for the doors to close.

Once they did and you started descending, CJ glanced over at you. “So, Jo, were you planning on ever calling me again?”

Your heart started to pound but you forced yourself to remain cool as a cucumber, hoping he wouldn’t recognize your voice. You arched a questioning brow up at him. “I don’t know who you think I am but my name’s Y/N. Sorry to disappoint.” You turned back to the door.

“The Green Mile book in your back pocket says otherwise.”

Crap. You tried to think quickly. “That’s just a book I’m reading for class.” You decided to channel Audrey, the queen of mean when she wanted to be; perhaps that would get him to leave you alone. The doors were opening and you turned to give him a smirk. “NIce try, though, Sherlock. Better get back to Watson before he misses you.” You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and nearly stormed out of the elevator. 

CJ was suddenly at your side. “I know it’s you. Why are you trying so hard to act like it’s not?”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore him. Thankfully, Eddie came into sight, rushing to get the suitcase. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He picked it up and gave you a look. “About how many more of these are coming down, do you think?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. She has a lot of outfits. Joey’s got her work cut out for her.”

Eddie groaned and then noticed CJ standing next to you. “Good to see you again, man.”

“Likewise.”

Eddie glanced between you and CJ before walking away. Great. He was bound to mention that to Joey who would most likely question you about it later thanks to CJ’s impromptu appearance earlier. You spun on your heel and headed back to the elevator, punching the button.  

CJ was suddenly next to you. “What happened? Why did you stop calling?” He quietly asked you. 

You didn’t answer him, just kept staring straight ahead, your jaw clenched.

He leaned in slightly, his voice even quieter. “Did I make you nervous by offering to meet you? I was only trying to help. Nothing funny, I promise.”

When the doors opened, you stepped inside and of course, he followed you. The doors closed and your ride up began. 

“Are you going to talk to me or just keep ignoring me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know your voice. It’s you.” After another quiet moment, he begged, “Would you please just talk to me? What happened?”

You shook your head.

“Something obviously happened to make you stop calling. So, talk to me. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You glared over at him. “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please stop bothering me.” CJ looked as if you’d slapped him for a moment and you felt guilty but then you immediately remembered what Jen had said that night at the bar. 

He gave you a curt nod and turned to face the door. Once it opened, you went to step out when he lifted the book out of your back pocket. 

“Hey! Give that back!” He held it out of your reach, opening it to find the note from your dad on the inside page that he’d written after he bought it for you. Why did you have to mention that in your phone conversations? That was a dead giveaway that yes, Jo was indeed you. How could you have been so stupid?

CJ gestured to the note. “Tell me again how it’s not you.”

You snatched the book out of his hands and hurried down the hall to your room. You would’ve gone back to Audrey’s and Joey’s room, but you were afraid he’d out you to them. Even if they didn’t believe him, you still remembered Audrey’s reaction when she thought it might be Joey for a moment and the latter’s response. 

“Y/N, wait,” CJ begged behind you. “Please, can we just talk for a minute?” You were unlocking your door when he was right next to you. “Just one minute. Please. That’s all I’m asking. Then, if you want, you’ll never see or hear from me again.”

You mulled it over for a moment. You could do one minute, you supposed, and get this over with. You glanced up at him and nodded, pretending not to see the relief that filled his expression. You opened the door and then held it open wider for him to follow.

You saw your roommate sitting on her bed, talking on the phone to her boyfriend. “Stace,” you interrupted. “Can you give us a minute?”

She frowned. “I’m kind of in the middle of—”

“I need the room.” Your tone brooked no argument. You surprised her; usually, you kept to yourself and never really stood up to her if she got mean or demanding. But you were not in the mood for any of her crap right then. You were at your limit.

Stacey scoffed but got to her feet. “One second, babe.” She glared at you, which you were more than happy to return, and then turned it onto CJ as well. “Boys aren’t allowed to stay up here so make it quick. You know the rules.”

You huffed out a snort. “The rule you break almost every other night? Got it, Stace, thanks for looking out.” You practically shut the door in her scowling face. You turned to find CJ’s eyes trained on you.

“So that’s the roommate, huh?” You shrugged. “Exactly how I pictured her, scowl and everything.”

You didn’t laugh at his joke and instead, crossed your arms. “You wanted to talk?”

He pressed his lips together and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “Why did you stop calling?”

You wanted to tell him the truth but it also seemed best to just get him out of there as soon as possible. He knew who you really were now and that was a problem. Especially if your friends found out you were the girl that had been calling him every week. Because sooner or later, they would want to know why and you weren’t ready to talk about that or have them look at you funny. You knew they’d be supportive, especially Joey and Audrey, but you also knew things would change. And you weren’t quite ready for that to happen. 

“I’ve been doing better so there was no need. You should know, you made me your pet project after all.” You didn’t mean to be harsh but you were still angry. 

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“You know. I’m the girl who calls you every week to talk your ear off and keeps you on the phone for hours. The girl you’ve supposedly been trying to pick up through the helpline, though apparently I’m not the only one.”

His eyes widened. “Y/N, that’s not true at all. I don’t use the helpline to pick up girls or try to get dates. I don’t date, you know I don’t. I don’t know who told you that but it’s not true.”

“But the other part is?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Because that’s how your buddy Seth put it, the way Jen tells it.”

CJ huffed out a mirthless laugh, rubbing at his forehead and giving a nod. “Jen. That’s who you heard this from.”

“Don’t even,” you snapped. “David also mentioned how you told him all about me and my issues.” You used quotation marks on the last word.

His hand dropped. “Okay, first off, you don’t have issues, no more than anybody else around here, myself included. Second, I only told David because I was going to be out that one night. I wanted to make sure if you called in that you were taken care of. That’s it. David is one of our better counselors, he’s a friend, and I trust him completely.”

Your jaw tightened. “That still doesn’t explain why Seth would even say anything like that. And you laughed! You stood there and laughed as this guy, who I don’t know by the way, is turning me calling you for help into a joke! Is that what I am? The joke at the office? Does everyone there know how I’ve been calling you every week and boring you to death with my problems?”

“What? No! You’re not a joke. And you’re not—”

“Really? Because it sure sounded like it to me based on what Jen said.”

“Okay, let’s get something straight. You’re not boring me to death when you call, you’re not talking my ear off, or keeping me stuck on the phone with you, or anything else that someone else might have said. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to be there for you and try to help. Then when we started talking about more than that, I wanted to talk to you even more. If I didn’t want to talk to you at all, if you were such a nuisance, then why would I ask you to call back every week or give you my phone number even?”

“But you weren’t trying to pick me up.”

“No, I wasn’t. I wanted to be available to you if you needed to talk to me outside of the hours I had at The Stand.”

“Yeah, because I was your pet project.”

“No, you weren’t and why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.” 

“Isn’t that what you do, though? Isn’t that why you tracked me down? Isn’t that why you kept trying to get my number and even suggested we meet though the helpline’s supposed to be anonymous? You look for girls who are messed up and try to be their white knight. It gives you some sort of satisfaction, some twisted sense of purpose… That’s what happened with Audrey, right?” Again, he looked like you slapped him but this time, you didn’t feel guilty. You were only speaking the truth. He had told you how much he wanted to help Audrey and how somehow they ended up in bed together and before he knew it, he really liked her and wanted to see more of her. In the end, he’d admitted to you that it might have been him confusing his desire to help her with his interest in her. That maybe Audrey had been right in what she’d said.

You watched as his shoulders deflated slightly and he let out a heavy breath, hanging his head. You bit your lip and glanced away from him, not wanting to see him look so defeated. You had to be strong, you had to stand up for yourself and not let him or anyone else take advantage of you. That was the silent vow you’d made to yourself after you’d cried yourself to sleep that night you found out how you were being used and made a mockery of.

“I tracked you down because I was worried,” he spoke softly. You turned back to find him staring at you, remorse radiating from him. You felt slightly bad for hurting him but you had said nothing but the truth, from his own lips. “It wasn’t like you not to call so I thought maybe something happened or maybe I made you nervous with that last call. Like I said, I gave you my number because I wanted to be there for you anytime you needed me, even if I wasn’t working. So this way you always had a way to get a hold of me if you needed to. I only asked for yours because I did like talking to you and I thought we were becoming friends. I know that’s not the norm for the helpline and it’s never happened before, to me or to anyone else that I know of, but like I said, I enjoyed talking to you. I only offered to meet you at Student Activities that day because you seemed nervous to try it alone and I didn’t want you to feel like that. I would’ve made that offer to anyone that needed it.” He nervously licked his lips. “I do like you but it has nothing to do with my wanting to help you or make sure you’re okay. I made a mistake with Audrey but I learned from it. I told you that.” He sighed before continuing. “I like you, Y/N, because you’re funny and smart and kind. Even if we didn’t meet through the helpline, I still would have liked you once I got to talk to you, once I got to know you better. That’s the truth.”

He turned to leave when he stopped suddenly. “By the way, Seth is the guy who usually relieves me on Friday nights. That’s how he knew about you calling every week. He always liked to razz me about being on the phone with you since I made him fifteen minutes late for his shift that one time. I only laughed because it was obvious he was showing off for Jen, that he likes her, and I was trying not to embarrass him in front of her. I did end up talking to him later about it, though, and asked him not to mention it again in front of her or anyone else. He agreed; he’s not a bad guy.” He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened. If you call the helpline again and want to talk to someone else, I understand. If you don’t want to call at all, I understand that, too. Just…take care of yourself, alright?”

You averted your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears building in them, and you gave him a curt nod. You only looked up again when the door snicked closed. You pretended a tear didn’t suddenly roll down your cheek and you told yourself that you had done the right thing. Though it certainly didn’t feel like it in the moment, deep within your chest. 

<-->

You stared at your phone, pacing back and forth as you chewed on your thumbnail. It had been almost a month since CJ walked out of your dorm room, leaving you more conflicted than you felt prior to his arrival. You had turned his explanation over and over in your mind so much that you had begun to dream about him every night. You had more panic attacks during that time, to the point where you’d finally taken the plunge and made an appointment to see a therapist. You’d told your parents everything you’d been experiencing, making sure they heard you this time, and told them you needed help. Your mother was still annoyed with you but your father was supportive, especially when you told him that you had a group of friends you met up with pretty regularly. He agreed to help with payments for your therapy. 

You were doing better, just like you had been while talking to CJ, and the therapist had even more techniques in her toolbox that she taught you how to use. You’d even opened up to her about CJ and everything that happened with him. She was the initial reason why you were considering making a call that you hadn’t made in quite a while. 

When you saw the clock hit 7:21, you made your decision. You huffed out a breath, picked up the phone, and dialed the all-too familiar number.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You resumed your pacing, nervous, unsure of how to say what you wanted to.

“Hello?”

You’ve got this.

“Hello?”

Just do it already. Talk to him.

“Listen, if you’re—”

“What are your plans for tomorrow afternoon?” You rushed out before you lost your nerve.

 “Jo?” You appreciated him using your fake name. “Is that you?”

“Well?” You asked.

“Uh, tomorrow? I’m free...”

“Would you…want to get some coffee? Maybe?”

“Coffee, huh?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Jo, you’re not calling the helpline to ask me out on a coffee date, are you? Because that would be a serious misuse of this valuable resource the college provides,” he teased.       

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll just wait until Seth is on shift then and call him up to ask him instead. Thanks, though. Bye.”

“Don’t you dare,” he laughed. You lifted the phone back up to your ear. “What time and what coffee shop?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Got a pen?”

<-->

You walked into the coffee shop ten minutes early, intent on getting a table and settling in before CJ arrived. To your surprise, he was already there, waving you over. You approached, feeling your heartbeat speed up with every step. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure we got a good table.” You had a feeling that wasn’t the only reason. The worry shadowing his expression confirmed it. Did he really think you had called him up to ask him to meet you only for you not to show? Then again, you supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“Good thinking.” You gestured towards the line with your thumb. “I’m going to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

He was immediately on his feet. “I’ll get it. You sit down. You still like lattes?”

You gave him a small smile and nodded; he remembered. 

He returned your smile. “Okay. Here, take a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.” You watched him walk over to the line as you did just that. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were taking your therapist’s advice. You were moving your friendship with CJ away from the helpline and out into the real world. You were giving him another chance while also allowing both of you to start over. If CJ agreed to, that is.

A few minutes later, he returned and placed your cup in front of you. You gave him a smile of thanks and waited for him to join you.

“So,” he started once he was settled. “You called in.”

“Only to ask you to meet me,” you pointed out.

The corner of his lips tipped up in a genuine smile. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too.” And you meant it. You were happy he’d said yes. “I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to thank you.”

His brows drew together. “Thank me?”

You nodded and began to tell him about all of the recent developments in your life, including therapy. You also apologized for how harsh you’d been the last time you saw each other but he waved it off, saying you didn’t need to and he understood. He listened intently and his smile grew when you mentioned how the therapy was helping and your panic attacks were starting to lessen. 

“I’m really happy to hear it, Y/N, and I’m glad you’re doing better.”

You bit at your lip, feeling nervous about speaking this next part. “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t helped me the way you did, especially that first night. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured.

Your heart began to pound against your rib cage but you bravely surged forward and kissed his cheek. When you sat back in your chair, his eyes were wide and you felt your face get hot. “Sorry. I just really wanted to do that for a long time. I hope that was okay.”

He grinned. “More than okay.” You felt relief sweep through you. “I was just thinking—”

“I know. You’re not dating, and we’re friends. Don’t worry, I understand.”

He studied you for a moment before speaking again. “I was going to say ‘I was just thinking what a coincidence because there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time, too.’” His hand gently covered yours and he slowly leaned in, giving you time to pull away or tell him to stop. You weren’t going to do either. 

His lips brushed gently against yours and you felt a thrill rush through you at the contact. You had imagined kissing him so many times but the fantasy did absolutely no justice to the real thing. When you broke apart but he didn’t lean back right away, he murmured, “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you whispered before pulling him back into you, both of you grinning like idiots before your lips connected again.

<-->

You stopped, seeing the front of the building you were about to go into. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You asked nervously.

CJ turned back to you and gave you a reassuring smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you. “Yes. We should.”

“But—”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “Trust me. I’m right here with you, okay?” He pecked your lips one more time, tightened his hold on your hand, and began pulling you forward. 

“Okay.” You didn’t sound so sure about this and truthfully, you weren’t.

CJ chuckled and led you inside. The Stand office was decorated with balloons and streamers and there was even confetti on the floor. One of the counselors was leaving since she was soon to graduate and a party was being thrown for her last day. You tried not to get overwhelmed at the amount of people filling the small space. It was overly warm in here and you could barely hear yourself think over the din of multiple conversations going on at once. Somewhere music was playing at a decent level. You noted a room in the back where through the window you could see two people sitting, talking on the phone, a closed door in between them and the noise. 

CJ intertwined your fingers and moved you both towards a group of a few people that he was intent on talking to, people greeting him as he passed. You remembered the techniques you had been taught and tried to put them into action while reminding yourself that you were with CJ and he wasn’t going to abandon you. 

He stopped and greeted the group before he turned to you smiling. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

One of the guys laughed. “Ah, so this is Y/N.” Your heart started hammering inside your chest. “CJ hasn’t shut up about you since you two started dating.” You nearly sighed in relief.

CJ shrugged, grinning down at you. “Seth’s not wrong.”

Your eyes widened before you turned back to the guy. “Oh, so you’re Seth.”

Seth beamed. “Aww, CJ, you told her about me? I just knew we had something special,” he joked.

You frowned. “Hey now. Go get your own CJ. This one’s mine.” You winked up at CJ who laughed. 

He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him. “Definitely yours,” he whispered huskily. 

Seth pretended to gag. “Ugh. Young love. Gross. You can have him, Y/N.”

“Damn right I do,” you laughed as CJ wrapped himself around you from behind and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

From that moment on, it wasn’t so bad. CJ circulated around the room to different groups, introducing you each time. With him by your side, you began to feel more comfortable and you opened up bit by bit. At one point, CJ took your hand and led you away. “I want to show you something.”

“Again?” You teased. “Didn’t you already show me something back in my dorm earlier? Twice?”

“Ha ha. No, this is something different. Though there will definitely be a third time when I get you out of here and back to my place.”

“Ooo. You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Mr. Braxton.”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and pulled you into a kiss that left you breathless. “Just a small preview for later.”

“A small preview?” You panted. You just loved teasing him and couldn’t resist.  

He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Come on.”

CJ led you over to a desk and with his free hand, he swiped confetti off of the seat. “This is it. My station,” he told you.

Your eyes roamed over the computer, the keyboard, the notepad and pens, stopping on the corded phone. So this was it. This was where CJ had sat on those Friday nights during your conversations. You smiled to yourself at the memory.

You let out a squeal when CJ quickly sat down in the chair and pulled you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from falling, glaring at his laugh. You softened though when you looked back over the desk. “So this is where you sat on those nights we talked?”

“Uh huh. Though I much prefer you here on this end with me.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and turned you to him, kissing you sweetly. You snuck your fingers into his hair and tilted your head to deepen it, not caring right then about anyone or anything else around you. 

You and CJ had been dating for a while now and it was starting to become serious. He had met your parents when they came to visit. Your dad had liked him right away. Your mom, on the other hand, had given him a bit of a hard time but underneath the harsh exterior she was presenting, you could tell she liked him, too. He had initially planned to transfer to a school in New York, which you more than supported (though you were secretly heartbroken). You reminded him that you had done the phone thing once upon a time and you could do it again, if he wanted. After contemplating it, he decided to stay in Boston. 

“Please don’t tell me you chose to stay because of me. I’m not going anywhere. If it’s a great opportunity for you, you should go. I don’t want you to regret not going.”

He’d simply smiled. “I have a great opportunity right here and I would regret leaving.” He’d kissed your nose. “Besides, Boston’s home.”

“CJ, you should go. I’m almost done and I can come visit you. It’s only a few hours’ drive. You could show me things like the Empire State Building or take me to a museum or a play or show me Times Square.” You’d tried to make it sound enticing but inside it was killing you. Everyone knew long distance relationships had their problems and who knew? Maybe he might meet someone new in the Big Apple. But you also wanted him to do what was right for him, just like you’d spoken with your therapist about. You didn’t want him to resent you later on if he didn’t take this opportunity now and you certainly didn’t want him to have any regrets. “We could even visit Jen and Jack, see how her Grams is doing.”

Jen and Jack had transferred to New York. You had been worried to tell her that you and CJ were dating but while she was a little miffed in the beginning, she was more focused on the developing situation with her grandmother who had been diagnosed with cancer. Eventually, she forgave you before she left and gave you her blessing. You had been relieved; Jen was a good person, a good friend, and you didn’t want to lose her friendship. Jack had been worried about Jen’s reaction but for the most part, he had been fine with it. David was happy for you both. Audrey was doing better these days and though she had wanted to know what the hell you were thinking by shacking up with The Sleaze (as she referred to him), she had eventually told you she loved you and just wanted you to be happy. Joey asked you if you were sure when you told her and when you assured her that you were, she pretty much said the same thing as her former roommate and gave you a hug. She gave you a look when you pulled away and you knew that she had connected the dots on who you really were to CJ, but to her credit, she mercifully never said anything. Pacey and Emma had shrugged (CJ had apologized to Pacey at some point after what happened with Audrey and they had resolved things), wishing you well. Dawson…well, you never really got to know Dawson all that well during his brief visits so no conversation needed to be had there really. All in all, your friends were supportive, even if still a little wary of how things were going to work out. You were happy, though. It was strange but shifting from friends into romance proved to be an easier transition then you thought it would be.

CJ laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going without you.” You went to speak, to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, when he cut you off. “I know what I want. I’m okay with my decision. I need you to be, too.”

You tenderly stroked his arm. “Are you sure?” You whispered, worried he was making a mistake.

“More than sure.” He then pulled you to him for a kiss.

“Okay,” you whispered to his lips before kissing him again.

And now you had met all of his co-workers at The Stand and had seen where he worked a few days out of the week. He had offered to bring you several times before, but you had been hesitant to take him up on it, still worried someone might figure out who you really were. It’s not that you were embarrassed that you had called the helpline for help, but your business was your business and you didn’t want to be seen as that girl CJ got himself through the service. You both obviously knew that wasn’t the case but people talked, people judged, and you just wanted to steer clear of both as long as you possibly could. You knew you shouldn’t care what anyone thought or said, just like CJ didn’t; it was something you were currently working on in therapy. 

“So,” you teased when he finally broke away for air. “Is there a switchboard somewhere that you have somebody directing all the girls to you when they call? Is that how I got you every single time I called?” 

He grinned. “Not exactly. I told everybody that any calls that came in on Fridays at 7:00 were mine.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Well, how did you know I would call every single time?” You huffed out. “How do you know I might not have gotten held up? Or made plans at the last second? Or got fed up with you?”

He gave you a cocky smirk. “Because you liked talking to me. I could tell.”

You playfully swatted at his shoulder, making him laugh, and rolled your eyes. “It always amazes me that you’re able to make it through doorways with that massive ego of yours. That can’t be how you knew I would call you every time.”

His smirk grew and he nodded. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled. You didn’t really mean it and he knew you didn’t.

CJ pulled you closer up against him. “You have a weird way of showing that.” He inclined his head towards your embrace around his neck. 

“True,” you murmured and kissed him again.

“Plus,” CJ added when you pulled back. “You always said you would call back and I believed you.”

“Better,” you decided. “Though I will begrudgingly admit that I did like talking to you.”

“Like I said, I could—”

“Hush.” You covered his lips with yours and he chuckled into your mouth. When you pulled back this time, you laid your forehead against his, your eyes closed, smiling. “I love you,” you murmured.

“I love you, too” he whispered back to you, lifting up to press a kiss to your brow before you buried your head into his neck and he discreetly snuck his hands under your shirt to rub your back, just the way you liked. 

“Want to get out of here?” He asked you after a few minutes had passed.

“Mmm.” You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “No Fleetwood Mac this time, though.”

He laughed and helped you to your feet. “What have you got against one of the greatest bands of all time?”

“Nothing. It’s just weird to listen to that chorus when we’re about to…you know.” You could feel your cheeks starting to warm.

He grinned salaciously at you. “Oh, I know. Hey, at least it’s not the Star Wars theme.” He snickered at your glare and picked up your hand, kissing it. “No Fleetwood Mac tonight. Got it.” He intertwined your fingers and his grin softened into an affectionate smile before he led you out of there. You quickly made your goodbyes and hurried back to his place where he kept his promise of no rock group music track playing along to your own soundtrack. 

Later, as CJ slept, you repeatedly ran your fingers through his messy hair in soothing strokes as you studied him. Who knew calling the helpline that one Friday night would lead you here? Where you were happy, in love, and doing much better than you ever thought possible? You had gone from feeling overwhelmed by your education to feeling a different type of overwhelmed together. Overwhelming love and affection for the special person in your life; overwhelming gratitude for the progress you’d been able to make in managing your anxiety and panic attacks as best you could; and overwhelming contentment with every single moment, no matter the ups and downs that was best known as life. Regardless of whatever happened from here, you knew you’d be okay and you’d handle whatever was thrown your way. Like CJ had once said, one day at a time.

In his sleep, your boyfriend reached out for you and pulled you in closer to him, snuggling into your side and burrowing into your neck, making you smile.

And to think, you almost hadn’t made that call. You laid your head against CJ’s and closed your eyes. You were so glad you did.

[running-with-kn1ves]

A/N: Hello! Due to popular demand I decided to write a continuation to The Masked Intruder fic ! I really enjoyed writing it. Please excuse any grammar problems, I'm a bit under the weather :> btw you dont really need to read the OG in order to read this. I'll get to notes soon😭

TW:yandere themes, obsessiveness, stalking, (past) breaking and entering,

Synopsis: you've grown accustomed to the man hanging out in your walls, but it appears his clinginess does not rest even well into the night. 

word count: 2000

It was nearly three in the morning when you finally decided to get up. You had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, too stubborn to go on your phone out of fear that you'd become even more awake. But you finally caved when you heard the wall across from you begin thumping. It gave a muffled noise of exasperation.

Letting out a small sigh, you got up from the tangle of hot bedsheets and blankets. You were on the verge of sweating from rolling around so much; it was difficult to find the right spot when you were so fidgety. Your back cracked as you got up, making you feel even more alert. But though your brain was active, your body was slow to move. Each leg felt like a weight dragging you down, your pajamas suffocating you as they made you feel ten times warmer.

Blindly you searched for the door with your hands. From muscle memory you knew it was somewhere nearby; it clearly was from how it smacked you in the face. You let out a pained groan, grabbing the door slowly to open it.

You followed the glow of the moon in your kitchen window and the green flickering light of the stove. It read 3:03, flashing as if it mocked your restlessness. You traveled over to the fridge sluggishly; small thumps could be heard from behind the wall as they moved at the same pace.

But the sound didn't terrify you. Not as much as it did before, at least. It was still eerie and unnatural to hear something so close and purposeful, but you knew where it came from now. Or rather 'who' it came from.

Pulling out the milk from the fridge you headed to the cabinets, two bowls and two spoons waiting there perfectly for you. You grabbed them apathetically, not fretting the screech the sliding glass made against the cupboard. After all there was no one it would disturb-- the only other person in the house was already awake with you.

You grabbed the box of cereal on the way to the table and prepared to make your feast.

Pouring the cereal you tried your best not to spill too much, despite your tiring hand. You were doing quite well avoiding the small crunchy pieces from spilling, until a figure appeared at your heels. Its noise was silent to you, your brain on autopilot without paying attention to the rustling from behind.

The dark figure moved closer, now mere inches away. Its hands reached out for you and wrapped themselves around your stomach. You jolted out of surprise and panic, the cereal spilling on the table. The arms squished you protectively as the person's chest crushed your back. His sudden weight on you pushed you against the table. You nearly let out a squeak from fear.

Setting the cereal box down you sighed out of relief, recognizing the man's dusty smell.

"Dont scare me like that," you firmly uttered. 

He was just as bad as your first encounter, when he snuck up on you. It was a really bad habit you hoped he'd stop soon, lest you have a heart attack. Small particles of dust fluffed off of him as his arms pressed against you.

"…Sorry…" his small, croaky voice whispered into your ear. From the cold skin of his cheek on yours, you didn't have to guess that his mask was removed. He only ever took it off when he thought you couldnt see him, or in the dark.

You've managed to memorize some of his patterns by now, the few weeks you've spent with him showing his predictable traits.

It's been a learning process for you in trying to cope with the fact that there's a man living in your walls. You decided that no one would ever believe you anyway, unless you tore every wall from its place. So, you're coping. Trying to.

Dealing with it like an average, healthy person would, by letting him stay. A part of you felt like it was a bad idea, especially from how clingy he was slowly becoming. But, it's not like he'd ever hurt you right? He was far too timid, almost… sweet. But it was hard to say that outloud without sounding like a crazy person. Yet, he wasn't violent or creepy. He tried to give you privacy---at least he said he did. And you only caught him spying on you in the shower once!

You just assumed he needed some training. After all, you had no idea how much he understood when it came to formalities or privacy. He had been creeping on people for years, of course he wasnt clear on common boundaries. So, you were fine with excusing some things. Even if those things were him taking your dirty clothes and trying to cut pieces of your hair from time to time. They were the little things, the little things that reminded him of you when you were out shopping or working. But to you they were just pet peeves.

Not to mention, your bed felt a lot smaller as of late. He'd never be there in the morning, but from time to time you'd feel a presence behind you, scared fingers tracing lines on your back.

Just like now; those same fingers were tracing circles on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

"Go back to bed." You sleepily muttered. Though you knew the answer he would give.

"Can't sleep." He groaned, giving a small whiff to the nape of your neck.

"you're so touchy."

You finished pouring cereal in the two bowls.

"Okay…"

He ignored your orders and gave a small lick to your ear.

The man reminded you of a cat, an animal that lingered and clinged at the most inconvenient of times. But as you poured the milk to your cereal, a question popped into your head.

"So… I still haven't figured out what to call you." You mumbled.

"Anything. " He replied quickly.The unmasked mans hands started creeping against your clothes, massaging your skin. "Anything if… it's you."

One hand pressed against your hip, swaying you closer against him and harder against the table.

"Well then how do you feel about…Mr. fluffy?"

He scrunched his face against you and clenched your loose shirt.

"No… animal name."

He smelled your hair and shook his head in disapproval. You let out a small laugh, finding joy in his sour face. He watched you prep the food with curiosity.

"Hmm alright then… What about Leo?"

The lanky male took a moment to respond, his hands freezing on your body as he stood in thought. You put the spoons into the bowls and closed up the cereal box.

"Leo.." He repeated, his hair tickling your neck as he leaned further into you. "Okay."

He let out a satisfactory groan, seemingly intrigued by the name.

"Alright then." You confirmed, taking a small bite from your bowl of food.

The man newly named as Leo gripped you as he gave an open mouthed kiss to your neck. Now that the business of his name was out of the way, he wanted to get down to his own interests. He was far too into touching you to realize that the food on the table was becoming soggy.

"come on now stop that," You gave an annoyed noise at Leo's grabbing. "Im too tired to indulge you. And 'roommates' aren't supposed--"

You turned to face him but were cut off with his mouth. He kissed the corner of your lips, his chapped ones full of desire.

"Please… please.." his voice cracked as he pulled at your shirt. "N…eed." 

You rolled your eyes and sighed; you were forced to weigh your options. In all honestly, it would be best if you gave in. If you didn't comply with what Leo wanted, he'd linger around pawing at you for the rest of the night.

Leaning in you huffed and pressed your lips against his, placing a hand on his bony shoulder. He pushed himself on you, grabbing your wrists and trapping your body against the table. It only took an inkling of consent for him to go wild.

His tongue darted against your lips as he begged for you to open your mouth. You reluctantly complied hoping he'd soon have his fill. Leo was only so confidant because you couldn't see his face, the only evidence of his healed wounds being the roughness of his broken skin on your own. His mask laid alone on the table, a symbol of his past shame and fear. Maybe he'd never let you see his face in broad daylight, but this was certainly a step up from how he reacted only mere weeks ago.

Leo dug his tongue into your mouth past your teeth. He panted against you, trying to hold back anymore noise. As he attempted to force your legs to straddle his waist, you realized you were letting him go a bit too far.

"Leo--" you breathed, trying to stop him from planting more wet kisses down your neck. "Leo stop--"

He gave a harsh suck to your jugular, only ceasing once you pried him off you. Planting two firm hands on his chest, you tried to catch your breath.

In the darkness you could hear him breathe heavily, his body shaking against your hands.

"No more." You panted.

Taking your hands off of him you wiped your mouth of saliva. Leo complied, thankfully, and let go of you. You could feel the defiance in his grip though, the strength nearly pushing back. You wondered how long it'd be until he started to stop listening to you. While steadying your breath you couldn't help but worry.

But he was still under your thumb for now, albeit he didn't seem very happy about it. He let out an upset sigh and licked his lips for any remaining taste of you.

"Its too early…for this let's just, let's eat."

You awkwardly tried to go back to what you were doing, though you knew Leo was still longing for you. His hand clenched the bottom of your shirt gently in hope you wouldn't scold him.

You took his hand and brought it to one of the bowls on the table.

"Eat." You said, taking your own seat at the table with your now mushy bowl of cereal.

The unmasked man did as you asked, meekly taking his bowl, though not quite sure what to do with it. Instead of sitting at the table, or returning to the walls, Leo began to lower himself to the ground. Scooting forward, he sat with his legs crossed over one another; holding the bowl in one hand, he used the other to wrap around your leg. You raised an eyebrow and looked to see him under the table.

"What are you doing??" Staring at him bewilderedly, you watched him scarf down the bowl of food.

"Eat." He said with his mouth full. Leo was pouring the contents into his mouth, not bothering to mess with the spoon he abandoned on the floor.

Through the moonlight you could see the milk pouring down his throat, most of the liquid missing his mouth. Besides not knowing manners, the man was unaware of how to even eat like a normal person. This was the first time he ever dared to eat in front of you; it must have been because it was dark, and he knew you wouldn't be able to see him clearly under the table. You wondered if his scars needed upkeep, wondered how he got here in the first place; but that always appeared to be a touchy subject.

Instead of prying, you went back to your own bowl of contents. Leo hung onto your leg as he drank from his bowl, holding tight to keep you planted next to him. You still felt unaware of what Leo and this house had in store for you; yet all you knew, was you wouldn't be able to get rid of them for a long time.

[darlingpwease]

Oh hello I'm kind of new to this but I was reading most of your post I see you have been busy with your draft and I don't want to put some work on the request list but here I go saw you can write about some characters from dark fall I wonder can request

Yandere Nergal if you comfortable with it

hello hello~ <3 don't worry about things like that, sunshine; it just means I'm slower to react because I'm writing~ it doesn't increase my workload or anything like that,,,

too late; I love you more than

through the pain you feel my feelings [2000 words]

♡ unhealthy behaviour (forced relationship), mention of violence, power imbalance; transmigrator!reader, reader with hypersensitive skin

This body (or this world?) did not accept you, but you yourself weren't sure what exactly was wrong. After all, even appearance hadn't changed so significantly that you could claim it was a 'completely alien body'; more like some alternate version of you — but the skin felt wrong, not as it should, too sensitive and responsive to everything, doesn't matter if it was the wind that was blowing somehow wrong, or a hidden blade that you could dodge by acting even on pure instincts. Undoubtedly, this contributed to the improvement of your skills and reactions, as if the slightest movement around always found a physical response in you, making you feel like some kind of herbal or wind spirit.

... But every look, every touch — your whole being was so tense, like a stretched fabric about to tear, from which any attempt to touch was perceived as a cut or a blow. You knew for sure that it wasn't the skin itself, physically it received and reacted to wounds like any other, without being too gentle, but you were always where this line between mental and physical reaction passed. Perhaps it was even something psychological — you can't say for sure, not that you remember anything at all from your life that is connected with the past, even if you are clearly aware when this or that reaction is caused by muscle memory. Your body remembers what your mind is not able to reproduce — but without mind, you would not be able to take care of this uncomfortable body, like a worn-out cell that tries to keep your 'soul' inside, although it costs too much.

Was this a kind of punishment for the fact that you occupied a body in which you were not actually born? You didn't know — not when you were too focused on fighting for survival in this world, more like a burnt-out wasteland after some devastating war. Disgusting in its grotesqueness social darwinism — 'who managed, they ate', even if this is the body of someone who was a little less lucky to be where it was not worth being, and these are not only monsters, but also lands that absorb blood with meat, trying to satiate themselves in aimless greed, — as deep as the pupils of a person who holds out his hand to you in a dark glove, smiling senselessly, as if you have not survived this nightmare for a couple of years, forced to adapt from the life of a modern person to one of the links in the food chain, where you are far from the top.

Even if it was the hand of the blackest and most vile creature, you would accept it.

And even after a while, you can't say that you regret your choice. You have everything you need to not worry about that body: comfortable clothes, the necessary treatment, and your mana is more than normally restored — even if sometimes you are drawn to things like food or the Internet, especially when you see the dull dying earth from the balcony, you try to remind yourself that everything is fine. Everything is fine now. You still have to work and work hard, but at least you don't have to think about where you should spend the night, where to hide and where to expect enemies, constantly turning in your head the memories of a past life in an attempt to use the current one to survive.

... In the end, it is these features that NERGAL keeps you close — at least, you hope that only for these.

Maybe in a previous life you would have accepted him as 'your type', but in the current one? Getting involved with any of... these ones has consequences much more serious than just a 'broken heart', and you can't say whether you will have a next life — and whether your next body will not be even worse.

(NERGAL had never been in the habit of asking when he wanted something, however.)

NERGAL knows 'what's wrong with you' and this is used more as an excuse to pull you even closer, as if the fact that the place next to him is the most profitable among many others is not enough — after all, the safest place when the typhoon is inside, and you tell yourself the same thing, even when the how carefully he treat you becomes disturbing and slightly unnerving. NERGAL does not hide the fact that he cares about you or that he is responsible for things that are more convenient for you — even if does not always say it out loud, you know for sure that because of him the servants treat you differently, with more caution, like fragile porcelain.

The King of Dark Fall is not at all the type who pays attention to the physical characteristics of others at all and does not know how to recognize them, — he does not need it, after all, — so you do not even try to flatter yourself with thoughts that 'this is how he highlights his special subordination', not when NERGAL politely asks if you like this 'more light clothing' or 'soft fabric'. And it is precisely how different your positions are that makes you overlook everything — do you want to go back? Do you want to fight every minute for your life again and sleep with one eye open? Didn't you have enough?

There is no need to shout "wolves" while they are just looming at the edge of the forest — otherwise, when they cling to your neck, no one will come running to the screams.

(of course, you are not deluded that anyone will be affected by your requests for help — social darwinism is soaked into the blood, which dictates that 'own skin is more important' than someone else's problems, and you can only go along with the current, trying to draw boundaries between yourself and him, even if he is the type who is used to pushing these very boundaries.)

NERGAL is not trying to overstep the boundaries — this is not in his spirit; even if he tends to force you to do things that you initially don't want, over time you get used to it — largely due to the fact that his leadership is closer to "look at me and do as I do" than to trying to explain something, and this soon begins to involuntarily relax you, since NERGAL is not too emotional, restrained and respectful, especially in relation to your personal space and desire / unwillingness to physically approach, not allowing you to fly away or think that you are ready to give up your current comfort to avoid creepy behavior, because NERGAL is not creepy.

Yes, even when he is responsible for the full degree of comfort with which you live, knows your preferences perfectly well, takes a more dominant position and you feel that you are becoming too dependent on better conditions that are directly controlled by him — he is not the type that clearly feels more creepy, especially compared to everything that you saw before you were accepted into the service of the King of Dark Fall.

His control appears gradually and prudently, but even so, you hardly notice — the society of this world is so far from yours that you have no idea when something is 'strange' or 'normal', and this only worsens everything around when NERGAL, encouraging your ambitions if there are any, at the same time, clearly restricts you as soon as signs appear that you can sail away from his control or custody. By the time you realize that everything looks too strange, — even if no one dares to point it out, — any attempts to swim out will first lead to a decrease in comfort, then— to a more than direct threat that you will experience serious consequences if you think that the smartest in the room.

NERGAL is not the one who hides his attitude — he has a goal and he goes to it; perhaps, while he is still Leon's assistant, you can somehow hide from him by running off to some tasks in the battlefields against monsters or locking yourself in a room, since he does not have such the authority to force you directly, but when does he become the head? Escape attempt is excluded — no matter where; if his credit of trust in you is exhausted, you will eventually be locked up, and you will have nowhere to go, because it is even less likely that you are stronger than NERGAL, and given that he now has power, no one can give you even an illusory protection from him. He is straightforward in this, even if at first moves gently and gradually, as if reveling in the fact that you have nowhere to run and no one to go to.

You won't be surprised if it turns out that he's just enjoying how defenseless you are now, even if you're not as weak as Leon is now; and perhaps, perhaps, he is too happy to devote more time to you than is worth in current position, changing schedule just to be with you.

He is sticky — even if at first NERGAL clearly refrains from touching or hugging, experimenting and trying different ways to get closer and touch you. Not only literally, but also metaphorically: he always knows where you are and what you are doing, especially if he has suspicions that you may be trying to get out of the castle or room — and often he regrets that he cannot deprive you of your strength, just as Leon lost his strength, in order to reduce his own anxiety about your movement and make you more dependent on him.

However, your "touchiness" is more fun entertainment for him than something that causes irritation — NERGAL is interested in your emotional and physical reactions, and seeing how you react to various stimulations and interactions is closer to the kind of foreplay that he can afford if he sees that you are not comfortable enough for more actions. He pushes the boundaries, but does not try to bend them — even with a more... ambiguous morality in society, he is not so desperate or needy to scare you away, at least outwardly.

He is more than busy, and although it may sometimes seem to you that you are in the palm of his hand, along with your actions and thoughts, NERGAL always lets you unobtrusively realize this — his right to claim everything he considers himself worthy, including the persons he considers his own, is not a 'painful place', that you could somehow manipulate or influence, and attempts to break out of this not-too-honey web will not be successful, no matter what you do.

NERGAL is more than transparent about what he expects from you — there are no emotional manipulations or attempts to muddle your brains, at least not for a long time; in the end, sooner or later, you will move on to a conversation in the style of "why should I stay here with you" and willingness to discuss this. Undoubtedly, you will be given the choice to 'leave' — only if he is sure that you will invariably return. The body that you have made your weapon for survival is more than sensitive to any change in comfort, and even whether this comfort is emotional and physical does not really matter — after all, NERGAL is emotionally stable and calm, despite his strange behavior, like most servants, but how will you are live normally in an environment where you will lose everything that have achieved for years?

He does not persuade when it comes to the decision to stay in the castle with him. It's not like him. You are either "yes" or "no" — and if you are "no", but one day you will invariably become "yes". Nergal has long arms — while you don't have a wide range of choices.

No one will want to mess with him. Even you.

[belit0]

2000 Word Commission (Uchiha Obito / Fem Reader) @moroseu

"Hello there! I hope you are doing well :) I just sent another ko-fi commission. I was wondering if it was possible to write Obito x Reader when she just came home after a long bounty hunt. She's covered in cuts and bruises, nothing too serious. He still thinks she should go see a medic, but she tells him that she needs him right now. Emotionally and physically which leads into soft nsfw moment."

EACH COMMISSION COMES WITH AN EXTRA SECRET SCENARIO, THAT I UNIQUELY AND ESPECIALLY ADD FOR THE BUYER. (I'll leave you an example of it at the bottom, but in Spanish, so you don't cheat.)

KO-FI COMMISSIONS

Obito holds a cup of tea in his hands, the hot liquid moving involuntarily through the anxious sequence his left leg carries, foot tapping against the ground to cooperate with the nerves. (Y/N) should be home by now, the mission being more long than complex, and for ninjas of the caliber that took responsibility for it, it should be simple.

The Uchiha begged for the ANBU leader to allow him to join the squad, hating every situation where his wife has to expose herself to battle hardships without having him by her side to help her if necessary, but his request was denied thanks to his new rank.

He left the Special Assassination and Tactics Squad to seek tranquility in his new qualification as a Jonin, under the strict recommendation of his best friend Kakashi, claiming that demotion is not bad, if not relaxing.

Consumed by the stress of his responsibilities and attacked by the darkness of facing the enemy in combat to the death, Obito felt his soul becoming more and more twisted, an overwhelming terror taking over his thoughts and making him act with unbridled cruelty, and decided it was time to stop before it was too late.

Being a Jonin and taking care of three children wasn't so bad, after all.

His last proper mission with the ANBU had been chaotic, a group composed of only the best of the squad, and yet it ended terribly. Obito had barely made it out of the encounter alive, losing all three of his teammates in the blink of an eye, having been ambushed by the enemy. Now having almost lost control of his actions, unleashing an unconscionable massacre against his attackers, he found himself tearing out the hearts of his enemies with pleasure, almost turning into a psychopath.

Before this could happen, he decided to step aside.

Something was occurring in the shinobi world, a revolution of extraordinary magnitude, and those who were once allies became enemies from one day to the next. Under this context, and with things as complicated as they are currently developing, there is nothing Obito hates more than leaving (Y/N) alone on a mission.

Yes, she is a ninja of marvelous capabilities, a strong and intelligent woman, sharp and firm in her decisions, someone to admire and fear at the same time, but the Uchiha can't help but think of her as his beautiful girlfriend, sweet and delicate in intimacy, vulnerable to the terrors of the world.

He promised not to intercede, not to get involved in matters that do not concern him, having already gone through situations where desperation wins him over, and goes out to look for (Y/N) without thinking of interfering with the mission.

It has happened about three times at least, where Obito cannot deal with his anxiety and fails to wait for his wife's arrival, going out to look for her and using the technical data she shared with him before leaving. Knowing she is out there, surrounded by danger and bad people, consumes him like an embracing fire, and he can't afford to abandon her.

On every occasion, the Uchiha tracks her and her group with the Sharingan, and always arrives at the moment when they must face off against their opponent. Watching her fight is a heavenly image, skills of all kinds and strong extent being deployed with harmony and direction, experience, but he prefers to be by her side and be able to protect her if necessary.

He does not know what would happen to him if something were to befall her, and he does not want to find out either.

The level of power Obito carries within himself, mixed with a dark and shadowy, cruel aura, would be a terrible combination. He prefers to keep his own person safe, away from evil, but this doesn't allow him to support (Y/N) on the battlefield.

His strictly professional and goal-oriented wife scolded him like a small child every time he infiltrated her mission, thanking him for the backup but claiming it was not needed, and she was right. Every time, the Uchiha simply watched from afar as his woman fought, battling with passion and eagerness, wiping out anyone who got in her way, making his presence known only in case she needed him.

Once the enemies were finished, (Y/N) would ask him to come out of hiding, only to make him understand there is no reason for him to follow and try to protect her.

After the same speech repeated several times, Obito finally understood, and agreed to wait after each mission sitting at home, without going out to look for her. Her tasks are usually performed at night, covered by the veil of the deepest darkness to go unnoticed and find along with her team what they need, claim it and return.

Leaving early in the morning, the Uchiha bids her farewell, and makes an inhuman effort not to follow her, to stop and hold her in his arms, to beg her not to leave. Restraining his tears and feigning an encouraging smile, he watches her disappear in the direction of the barracks, and huffs in frustration at his helplessness.

It will be a few weeks before they meet again, and he feels defeated.

In any case, he manages to go about his day calmly, attending to his group of Genin and concentrating on the harmony of his work. When the main distraction of his day is over, around noon, he decides to bother Kakashi, seeking reassurance from his best friend, something to fill his mind and help him not to worry.

Consumed by separation anxiety, he tries not to think about (Y/N), not to send any negative vibes to her, while he entertains a regular workout with his partner Jonin. The two spend a good few hours on the practice field every afternoon, even gathering an audience to watch the display of their skills, but when night falls, it's time to go home.

With the sun slipping over the horizon and darkness taking over the landscape, his anguish is amplified a thousandfold, and he begins to have genuinely intrusive thoughts about going out to look for her. He manages to fight his urges, but the nights drag on forever, tossing and turning in bed and getting very few hours of sleep.

The day she is supposed to return takes forever, minutes ticking by slowly, and he manages a terrible mood throughout his day. People avoid him like the plague because of his short patience, and when night comes, he is glad to be alone.

(Y/N) should be back soon, by midnight at the latest, he just has to stall until then and all will be fine.

In his distress, he carries out household chores, things he doesn't usually do, and tries to keep his mind occupied. He sweeps the whole place, dusts off ornaments from the shelves hanging around the living room, makes tea (something he never enjoyed in his life), does the laundry, changes the sheets....

Performing a myriad of simultaneous domestic duties, the Uchiha finds comfort in having his hands full, and when midnight arrives, he has dinner ready to welcome (Y/N). Delicacies in several different dishes are strategically placed on the table, having concocted her favorite recipes to comfort her heart once she gets home.

The clock strikes 12, but there is no sign of her.

He pours himself the third cup of tea of the night, hating the taste it leaves in his mouth, but seeking distraction where he can no longer find any. He bites his nails between sips, frantically tapping his foot against the floor and popping his knee with speed, trying to deal with the sudden emptiness he feels in his stomach from her absence.

Maybe the ANBU team decided to go eat after accomplishing the mission? To celebrate their success in a more friendly way? No... the specialty squad doesn't relate that way, always cold and distant, dedicated only to work as a team for their goal. Besides, (Y/N) wouldn't avoid going home, knowing about the anxiety his man feels in each of her departures.

Obito decides to move from the dining room, where he was sitting on a chair and trying to keep the food warm, and decides to sit on the porch. At the home's entrance, he descends to the third step of the small staircase leading to the door, and sits down to wait. Having forgotten the horrible tea inside, he nibbles his nails nervously as he stares at the point in the distance where (Y/N) might have to arrive.

He spends half an hour staring at the same place, no longer knowing what to do to continue waiting, and decides to stand up and go looking for her. At the very moment when he intends to start running, he sees his wife in the distance, walking slowly and torturously towards the house.

Obito doesn't hesitate and shoots off in her direction, reaching her in a second and taking her in his arms, squeezing her in his grip as if he were afraid she would disappear again. (Y/N) looks exhausted, full of bruises and scratches, dejected. She seems to have gone through an intense fight, and her companions do not presume to be nearby.

The Uchiha takes her home, depositing her immediately on the bed, and tries to understand what transpired. "(Y/N)... what happened there... where's the rest... why on earth are you like this?" he questions on the verge of tears, staying strong just for her.

"It's okay, we're all fine. We split up just so they wouldn't track us. There were no casualties." The woman looks sore, but active, awake, and that's a good sign. She doesn't carry any deep cuts or any worrisome wounds, so Obito tries to regain whatever calm he lost the moment she left. ""Okay, okay, okay... let's get this off you... you should see a doctor (Y/N), these cuts need disinfection and-"" The Uchiha babbles on trying to recompose his spirits, glad that she's back, worried about her bruises, trying to get the armor off her body. "How are you feeling? Beyond your injuries?"

"Honestly... not very well. I... I need you, Obito."

"It's okay... I'm here... let's get you cleaned up and-"

"No, Obito. I need you, now." She exclaims (Y/N) with daunting determination, looking him in the eyes and sitting up on the bed, taking him gently by the cheeks and bringing them together in a soft kiss of reunion. Her lips move in a mixture of love and anguish, holding complicated feelings she does not want to share at this precise moment.

The mission was more complex than expected, and she only needs the physical contact of her man to know everything is all right. Their tongues dance a familiar dance, intertwining and letting go for air, as she exchanges places with the Uchiha, guiding him to the bed and laying him down on the pillow.

They both let themselves go with the reconnecting, expressing all the anguish and anxiety between kisses and caresses, healing the despair of having been separated with gentle, controlled touches. (Y/N) climbs onto his hips, moving back and forth to wake him up, and it isn't long before they are both ready to begin.

Only removing their pants and underwear for the urgency of their movements, she guides his cock with her hands, rising a little on top of him to slowly lower herself back down, feeling full and complete for the first time in weeks. They both moan simultaneously, staring into each other's eyes with every movement she makes on his shaft. "Shit... (Y/N)... I missed you so much..."

It is not arousal or pleasure that brings them to this situation, but the need to reconnect on a deeper level, to feel each other again in the most intimate way possible.

Obito's hands close over her waist, unintentionally squeezing two large gashes in her skin, and making her hiss in pain. Before he can apologize, (Y/N) reconnects their mouths again, guiding a slow, deliberate pace, rising and falling between moans drowned out by tongues and lips. "Me too... love me, Obito."

She can feel moisture from the Uchiha's eyes, and knows those are tears of relief, but she doesn't dwell on the detail. After a few minutes of quiet sex, the pace increases, tracing a line of swiftness between their hips and pelvis, raising the intensity between touches and need.

Their bodies move in a plausible sync, connected by heart and soul, united in the physical and sentimental. Each thrust explains a different emotion, an I love you, an I adore you, and each moan expresses how much they needed each other in this time of separation.

Obito moves in and out passionately, debating whether to increase the pace even more or keep it quickly gentle, feeling (Y/N)'s skin under his hands and needing to lock her into his chest, keep her safe from everyone and everything.

He's the one who finishes first, inside her, not even thinking about the consequences and completely gone for the situation, filling her with his seed without leaving her body. She says nothing about it, allowing him to enjoy his release to the fullest and relishing the hot sensation inside her.

Once he's done with his peak, Obito gently switches places, resting her on the bed and laying on top of her, his knees supporting his weight as he touches her with his hands.

He will have to wait a little while to fuck her again, but decides he wants to make her come before then.

His fingers gently graze her clit, and (Y/N) tries to hide her expression of pleasure in more kisses, but Obito moves his face, needing to look into her eyes and devour every movement of her features. "I want to see you, (Y/N), at the very moment when your pussy explodes around my fingers and you moan like the beautiful, good girl you are."

His words disarm her, and it doesn't take her long to give him what he asks for.

EXAMPLE OF A SPECIAL AND UNIQUE ADDED SCENARIO

[barbex]

Happy DADWC! Could you write a scene with “I’m better when I’m with you” between whatever pairing you wish to write? :)

Catching up with the backlog tonight for @dadrunkwriting.

Thank you for this prompt! I made it fenders again, I'm predictable like that, and I managed to keep it under 2000 words, just barely. Go, me!

---

Anders steps out of his cabin. Not quite his cabin, he's been assigned to live here, in the line of sight of the guardhouse in front of the gate. It's not quite freedom, but it's better than a dungeon or the Circle. Varric made that possible. As viscount, he ordered Anders to be under watch but not locked up. 

He should be grateful. He is, of course, he gets to see the sun set over the sea and watch it rise again in the morning; he has a garden to tend to where he grows elfroot and other medicinal plants. People leave him alone for the most part, the guards even protected him a few times from angry citizens, who wanted to hang him on the next best tree for his crime. Lucky for him, there's few trees this close to the coast tall and sturdy enough to hold his weight. He probably owes the protection to the fact he healed one of the guards when he stepped on a rusty nail, and that the other officer is Donnic.

It still surprises him that he has friends from the time before. Before he removed himself from everyone, pushing them away to protect them. Justice had been his only friend, but now he's gone. Anders still doesn't know how it happened, but when Meredith died, burning up from inside from the poisoned lyrium, they both felt the pull of the Fade and Justice followed it. There wasn't even time to bid him farewell.

He is alone now, but that's how it should be. He was supposed to die; he expected Hawke to kill him, and what could be more lonely than death? But Hawke let him live. It's only fitting that he is now alone, not burdening anybody. 

In truth, he isn't always alone, Donnic visits him for tea and brings him books, Merrill visits him, telling him about her projects in the alienage or brings him new patients. Even Varric comes around occasionally, and a few people leave the city to find their way to him and ask him for healing. The desperate ones, or old friends who knew him in Darktown.

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, soon the first autumn storms will begin, and Anders gathers firewood in his arms to carry into the cabin. He isn't surprised when he hears footsteps coming up the path behind him, Donnic often comes over around this time. He turns to greet him and the firewood falls from his arms.

It's Fenris. 

He hasn't seen Fenris in more than a year, not since he sailed away with Isabela and Hawke. He should say something, anything really, instead of gaping at him with a piece of wood in his hand. But before he can find his words, Fenris frowns and turns around, stomping away, further along the path towards the city gate.

A little while later, Donnic knocks on his door. "Hello, bet you can't guess who I've just met."

Anders piles logs into the nook under the fireplace. He turns to grin at Donnic. "I would win that bet and that wouldn't be fair. I saw Fenris too."

"Damn, I thought I would win for sure."

"Win what?" Anders laughs. "Firewood? Elfroot? I don't have much to offer."

Donnic settles down on a chair and pours himself some tea. "It would have been symbolic. Did he talk to you?"

"No, he just glared at me." Anders pours himself some tea and sits down at the table. "Pretty sure he didn't expect to see me alive and is now on his way to Varric to complain about that."

Donnic chuckles at that. "You're thinking too bad of him."

"No, I think I'm just realistic, but it doesn't matter, anyway." Anders stretches his arms and looks up at the low ceiling. There's a burn mark from when an experiment went wrong. "If he comes back to kill me, there's nothing anybody can do."

"Don't say that, he won't kill you." 

Leaning forward, Anders fixes Donnic in his gaze. "Just promise me you won't get in his way. He's too powerful, don't risk your life by fighting him." 

"Now, wait a minute —"

"Promise me."

Frowning, Donnic studies his face as if to make sure that Anders is serious. "Fine. I promise."

"Thank you." He lifts the lid to check the can. "More tea? I can make some more."

"I'm good, thanks." Donnic drains the rest of his cup. It clinks when he puts it back on its saucer. Such a luxury, cups with saucers. He never had that before in his life.

For days, nothing significant happens. Fenris doesn't show up, Donnic hasn't seen him either, and neither has Merrill, which is not surprising. But she heard about him being in Kirkwall. It's maddening to know that he's there, inside of the walls, so close, but still as far away as Seheron. Anders is not allowed to go into the city. 

One day, Anders has finished all his tasks for today and settles down with the book that Varric sent him, there's a knock on his door.

"Come in, is it an emergency?"

The door opens. "It is not."

Anders sits up and nearly drops his book. He would recognize this voice anywhere. "Fenris." He closes the book, putting it on the table at his side. No need to get bloodstains on it. He even pulls the bookmark out, he won't need to know his place in the story anymore. Waiting, he looks at Fenris, steeling his heart against his anger. Fenris has every right to be angry, it's expected, but it's entirely unfair that he still looks so beautiful, even with his face half hidden under a hooded coat. 

After what feels like hours, Fenris still hasn't said anything and Anders bites his tongue to stop himself from filling the silence with chatter. He used to do that, all the time, but he tries to listen more and chatter less. 

"Anything I can do for you? Would you like some tea? Merrill brings me all sorts of teas and —" Glowing eyes under a deep frown turn to him and he snaps his mouth shut. Less chatter. It's a work in progress.

At last, Fenris speaks, his deep voice filling the tiny room. "Why are you here?"

"Me?" Anders looks around. The cabin is barely large enough to fit the bed and the table with two chairs. "I live here. What are you doing here? You came across a lonely shed and thought to check if a mage hides inside?" He grins, it feels like old times, banter, jokes, but another look at Fenris sobers him up quickly. Fenris is not here to make jokes. Anders wipes his hands on his shirt and gets up. "We should go outside." 

Fenris steps out first, just because there isn't enough room for letting Anders go past him inside the cabin. "Do you want to look at the sunset?"

"It's poetic, isn't it?" Anders turns his face towards the setting sun, blinking against the light. 

"You always enjoyed watching the sunset."

Anders looks at Fenris in disbelief. "I had no idea you noticed that." 

"We were intimate," Fenris says, his voice halting on that last word. 

Smiling to himself, Anders nods. "Yes, I have not forgotten. Doesn't mean you had to notice things about me."

"It is difficult not to notice you."

Anders avoids looking at Fenris, at reading anything into the things he says. They kissed, they had sex, they almost had something like a relationship, where they would drink tea together in the morning and talk. That didn't happen, but it almost did. He stayed the night, once. Just once, before he realised he brought danger to anyone who knew him. 

A dead man shouldn't have friends.

The sun turns a dark red as it touches the horizon. He lets out a long breath, calming his nervous heart. "Why are you here?"

"I thought you were dead." Fenris lets the hood of his coat fall back and closes his eyes. Anders can shamelessly look at him, at his beautiful face, glowing in the light from the red sun, watching his lips as he speaks. "I thought if I wandered enough, if I saw enough places, I would find what I was missing. But I did not."

"What were you looking for?"

Fenris opens his eyes, pinning Anders in his gaze. "With you, I was better, I felt better. I felt complete. I was searching for that." 

Anders' knees buckle, he grabs for something to hold on to as he sways. Fenris takes his arm, steadying him. "You're not here to kill me?"

"Why would I want that?" Fenris' hand tightens around his arm, painfully. 

"Many people want me dead. It would be just." Anders stares at Fenris' hand on his arm, the familiar sharp-tipped gauntlets pressing into his skin. "All of this is temporary, I'm well aware. If Varric gets called away or someone else becomes viscount..."

Fenris notices his gauntlets shredding Anders' shirt and pulls his hand away. "I apologise."

"It's no problem." Anders rubs over his arm, missing Fenris' touch. 

"Can you accept I do not want you dead?"

Anders lets out a helpless laugh. "At the very least, you should hate me." 

"I do not." Fenris opens the buckles of his gauntlets and pulls them off. "I thought I did at first. I was confused and angry, I felt abandoned. You... the way you turned away from all of us, from me..."

"It was safer that way." Anders hardens his expression and turns back to the cabin. "I don't ask for your forgiveness. I don't expect you to understand, but —"

"But I do." Fenris' gauntlets clatter to the ground. "I do understand." 

Anders turns back to him, a shadow against the last rays of sunlight, his face hidden. "What does this mean?"

With quick steps, Fenris closes the distance, takes his face in his hands, and kisses him. 

After a second, Anders' brain catches up. Fenris. Kissing. Wrapping his arms around the elf, he can't suppress a whimper, and kisses him back like his life depends on it. 

Lingering on his lips, Fenris breathes in. "I've missed you. I tried to ignore it, but with every mile the ship put between us and Kirkwall, I missed you more. I just did not understand, at first." 

Anders leans back to look into Fenris' eyes. "You missed me?" 

A smile lingers on Fenris' lips. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"I do not... I didn't dare..." Anders tries to breathe, but his chest hurts. "Someone like me can never..." He tries to step away, but strong arms pull him back, hugging him tight and he finally lets the tension fall from his shoulders and buries his face in Fenris' neck. "You're here, for me."

"Yes, mage." Fenris cards his finger into Anders' hair and holds his head. "Stop hating yourself."

"I don't know if I can," Anders says. Something shatters inside of him and he can't help but cry, making Fenris' shirt wet. 

"Anders." Fenris' voice is incredibly gentle. "Can we go inside?"

Wiping his face, Anders nods, leading him inside. 

He cries some more as they sit on Anders' bed. Fenris holds his hand and he keeps staring at it, not quite believing his eyes. They fall asleep like that, Fenris holding his hand, Anders' head tucked under Fenris' chin. In the morning, they will have tea together, like people in a relationship do. Anders still won't quite believe it.

[studio-dreamie]

chapter 7: tiktok advice

Jaemin opened the apartment door as y/n rushed in. She beelines straight to Jisung's room only to see him on the floor rocking back and forth against the wall. She couldn’t help but feel sad at the sight. “Jisung,” she said softly, she walked towards the frantic boy. She sits down next to him and puts her hand on his arm, rubbing circles with her thumb. “Can I try something Jisung?” she asks. He looks at her surprised but hesitantly nods as he tries to control his breathing (somewhat failing). She reaches down into her pocket to find her white wired headphones that were connected to her phone from the walk (more like run) here. She took her hand off and put the headphones on jisung. She played a playlist named steady. “Why did you do that?” Jaemin asked as he hovered over the boy and the girl from the door. “I saw a TikTok saying it helps with panic attacks so I wanted to see if it would work” she responded. Jaemin’s mouth couldn’t help but fall open, “so you put the fate of our son in the hands of TikTok” Jaemin said. Y/n rolled her eyes and she moved closer to Jisung. He eyes her but then gives her a small nod. His chest slows down and his movements become less frantic in the next few minutes. She goes back to her original position except this time she wraps her arms around his left, pressing it against her like a teddy bear. Once the frantic moments stopped, y/n laid her head on the boy’s shoulder. Jaemin decided to come close and sit beside them, rubbing circles reassuringly on Jisung’s knee. They stay in this position until he falls asleep.

side story: hw assignment #2 (jisungs pov)

It felt childish to do a homework assignment like this in college. Worksheets were being passed around the class like we were back in high school. The big black bold letters sat on top of the paper in a font that seemed fitting for kindergartners. “Who is your hero?”. I couldn’t help but internally sigh, of course an English elective has to do the most. I looked at the paper with a straight face; who the fuck do i write about? Iron man? I thought about it for a second but then pushed the idea away. There was no way I could write a 2000 word paper on my emotional connection with Iron Man. I overhear everyone around me talking. “Oh this is easy” “Who are you gonna do?” “My mom for sure” “Hmm probably my dad or brother not too sure”. I continue to stare at my paper; there’s no way I’m writing a paper on my deadbeat family members, maybe iron man really is the best option. I stare deeply at the paper, god someone, anyone, why can’t I think, why does everybody gotta put their family member, who the hell do I put, what the fuck. My thoughts become interrupted as I get a text on laptop screen. hello my offspring it read. I softly smiled, I guess I know who to write about now.

prev//masterlist//next

pairing: renjun x fem!reader

synopsis: the ultimate college friend group that does not escape the trials of suffering, love, drama, and weed. join y/n and her friends as they go through their third year of college together, they have no idea what's going on or what they're doing, but isn't that the fun of it?

genre: social media au, college au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy, coming of age

note: so i fully understand that this is a renjun x reader but like i really want to put emphasis on the other relationships she has, i want it to really be like you’re in college with all ur friends, and im a firm believer that side characters are main characters in their own story so i like to give them spotlight, if yall don’t fw that idk what to tell yall fr. in the character description i said jaemin and y/n are jisungs co-parents and i fr mean it

taglist: @she-is-dreaming @wavesandkisses @jenobubbles @finnydraws @snflwrhaerecs4u @sexygrass @miniature-tragedy @sweetcandycum @fae-renjun 

[yenqa]

replying to all the 10tihay rbs here because i dont want to spam reblog it LMFAO

@jlheon LITERALLY THANJ YYOU SO MUCH FOR READING FIRST OF ALL. im glad he is so bf!! i tried my best :(( but we both single girl 🤞🤞 you’ll find someone! i actually thought about making yn hit sooyun but i felt like it wouldnt have made much sense for the story or for the character (but honestly i wanted her to) thank you so much for reading!

@luvyizhuo again, thank you for reading! im glad you liked the progression (also complimenting small details like that is so helpful so thank you!!) im glad you enjoyed <3

@minnies-duo thank you for reading! i’m glad you enjoyed hehe ^_^ but the drunk scene is my favorite considering its kind of like a turning point for our y/n !! im glad you caught that the guys were over because i wanted to make it seem like he would drop anything for y/n (even if she hated him at the time) thank you for reading love!

@star-sim hi my vanya, thank you for reading!! ALSO SAAYING ITS LIKR A 90’S ROMCOM?? biggestt compliment ive ever gotten oh lord thats so sweet. thank you for noticing the soft spoken part! i wanted to make heeseung like a total opposite to y/n but he still loves her anyway and would do anything for her. ex : yn being a b word and heeseung still thinking shes like a god almighty that is privileged to be in her presence (hence the nickname angel ^_^) anyways sorry for ranting, i’m glad you enjoyed!

@hanniluvi has anyone told you youre the sweetest person ever. UGH THANK YOU FOR READING. also heeseung is an unbothered king! ignorance is bliss right ^_^ but yes without sooyun heeyn would be nothing but DUST like i hate u but… also im glad you understood everything! i tried my best (because sometimes i read stuff and im like what tf does that mean half the time) so i’m glad you enjoyed! ><

@faerinini hello!! i am infact reading this, and i want to thank YOU for reading my works!! ugh things like this motivate writes so much! so thank you so much for being so sweet and enjoying my silly little fics !! ^_^

@hysgf hellooo thank you so much for reading!! SOOYUN HATER CLUB FOR LIFEEE >< but omg guys it is actually like a 2000 romcom.. i think i blushed T^T anyways thank you so much for enjoying it!! youre comments are very appreciated ^_^

more will be added on <3

[slytherinqueenrose]

Total bastard |Percy Hynes White|

Pairings: Percy Hynes White x Polish!F!Reader

Warnings: bit of cursing, stereotypes about cars, mentions of Harry Potter, let me know if I missed something. It’s shitty by the way.

Additionally: Y/N - Your name, Y/L/N - your last name, Y/F/N - your friend’s name, Y/C/B - Your car brand/car of your choosing

A/N: Hello! That’s my third writing here on Tumblr and I must apologise for the grammar! I’m Polish so English is not my first language and don’t feel too comfortable using it. I’d be very grateful for any feedback about it because I truly don’t know if it’s even comfortable for you to read 😩

———————————————————

You may be wondering how does working on Wednesday set look like and the only word that comes to my mind and describes it perfectly is MAGICAL.

That was my first - let me call it - serious job. I took part in few other productions as an intern mostly and I played a background character only once before getting the role of Wednesday’s cousin. Coming back to the topic - even though I have some experience in films and I know exactly how everything looks behind the scenes, the set of Wednesday was something totally different and new.

Maybe it’s because most of the cast was young and not too popular (not counting Jenna and some other actors of course). That was the first place where I felt like I belong there.

But I also met somebody who desperately tried to break my heart or so I understood it.

Let’s start with a quick introduction. My name is Y/N, I was born in 2000, in Poland which makes me different from my movie character all the way. I was kind of stressed about joining the cast mostly fearing that I won’t be accepted. I mean, they all have became really good friends and what if I they treat me as an intruder ?

The trip to Romania was excellent even though some turbulences happened during my flight. Firstly I was wondering about driving a car (which would take about 12 hours but I thought of taking some stops in Slovakia and Hungary). I love travelling to new places but I decided that buying flight tickets and rent a car while in Romania definitely will be a better option. I needed some way of transport and I truly hated the public communication.

I did as I said, I rented a car and was heading straight to the hotel. The atmosphere of Romanian forests was just wonderful. So mysterious yet so beautiful. I couldn’t get enough of looking at the surroundings and I took few stops on the way to take pictures of as many views as I could.

After an hour or maybe a little bit longer I finally arrived at the hotel. It was just a simple building, not too pretty nor ugly. Cozy actually. It’s totally fine though. I don’t feel too comfortable in luxury places.

“Shitty drivers.” I muttered while trying to park my car on a parking lot. I have to mention that I’m a pain in the arse if it comes to driving. I always stick to the rules and rarely try to break any which often makes other people go insane. I remember my very first time in the US. I rented a car with my friend and she was laughing her arse off almost every time I drove. The only text a remembered after coming back home was “we’re driving with a very sick Jaguar. Almost dead”. And to make it even funnier, I have been overtaken by a bicycle.

Minute of silence, please.

But coming back to my thoughts.

After seeing this one black BMW parked totally wrong, I got a clever idea. What to do to piss off its driver? I parked my car correctly so there was no option for whoever owned that black car, to get inside. Sorry not sorry. I left the car and took my luggage and just when I was heading to the building, someone called after me.

“What do you think you doing? I can’t get into my car, you daughter of the devil!”

I quickly turned around to see a young man opening the black vehicle with his automatic pilot.

“Fly then.” I said with a grin.

“May you move your shitty Y/C/B so I can leave the parking lot?” He added visibility furious.

“Shitty Y/C/B you say. Well, does your BMW have working indicators or they are to cause a huge explosion if you use them?” I asked and raised my brows at him.

Before you’ll start hating me for this I must explain something. Polish people truly hate BMW drivers. It’s not like we don’t buy those cars - we actually do and they are very popular. However seeing a BMW using indicators is something worth celebrating. Does not happen too often, tho. If you happen to see a BMW with working blinkers, you can be sure it’s police driving it.

I didn’t even wait for his response, expecting it to be rude, and just turned around again and that’s when I noticed a certain boy that was portraying Ajax in the show. He was laughing his arse off while leaning against the hotel entrance.

“Well done, whoever you are. Jake is a total shit and makes everyone go crazy with his behaviour.” He said while extending his hand to me which I gladly accepted. “Georgie Farmer, Ajax Petropolus, call me whatever you want.”

“Nice to meet you, Georgie. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m going to portray Wednesday’s cousin, Verity.” I replied with a smile.

“You have a funny accent. You’re not American for sure, aren’t you? I didn’t mean to offend you, of course.” He added.

“Don’t worry about that. English is not my first language so I’m not a mistress of speaking it. The truth is I usually fail doing so.“

„Stop saying so. You speak very well. I like the Brit or Australian sounding. But what’s your nationality then?”

“I come from Poland. Not too far away from here actually which I’m pretty glad about. At least my flight wasn’t tiring.”

“Woah, is that the country which is famous from pierogis?” He gasped visibly amazed and just when I nodded, he grabbed my hand and pulled me after him inside the hotel. I started giggling like crazy. I was totally over the moon because someone seemed to like me and that felt incredible.

“So I suppose you’re pretty stressed now before meeting the rest of the cast but there’s no need to worry. We are all very friendly and really excited to meet new cast members. Some of us are also pretty insane like Percy for example or Oliver but I’m sure that you’re gonna feel comfortable around them.” He said with a pure excitement, opening one of the doors for me. ”I believe that Emma dreams about giving newbies a hotel tour just like Enid would but what about me being your guide today? She’s rambling too much while showing people around.” He said. Well, isn’t it like he was rambling too?

“As long as you keep smiling and being all excited.” I replied winking at him.

And honestly that was the best beginning of a new friendship in my whole life. We spent around an hour running around the building while he was trying to show me everything. And I mean totally EVERYTHING. He even showed me a secret underground room where he, Percy and Oliver meet from time to time to gossip about what had happened during their day. Boys.

“And so this is the last room of ours. We call it a freak day room because we spend most of our free period here. A lot is happening here everyday so don’t be scared seeing whatever is going on there right now.” He said less enthusiastically.

“I’m prepared to see the worst.” I replied giving him a reassuring nod. I could already hear laughter coming from there and I felt sick from fear. I’ve never used to be too confident, not even mentioning popular. I was just a plain, grey, unknown and the least liked person in my school years. I’ve never had real friends. All of my “friendships” usually come to an end after few months.

“Guys, guys, guys, attention please.” Georgie spoke while entering the room. All the laughter stoped and everyone looked at him at once. “Percy, may you please stop this ungodly singing?” He added. “So I want to introduce a new person to all of you and-“

“You met someone new and didn’t tell us sooner?”

“I’m sorry, Emma but I needed to give her a quick tour and talk a little bit. Whatever. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Y/N, Polish miracle with a funny accent.” Georgie chuckled pulling me into the room. I almost fell noticing all those glances.

“Hiya, nice to meet you!”

Let’s say that the very first day with the whole cast was just amazing. Everyone had a lot of questions, some simple, some weirder. We had a lot to discuss and considering the fact that the boys opened a champagne and then another and another, it resulted in a killer headache on the next day.

But it doesn’t matter.

Percy does.

Since the very first time we laid our eyes on each other, there was a sort of a weird tension between us. I felt pretty shy for no reason and he seemed to judge me. Or so I understood because I usually think that people are gossiping about me which never happens actually.

The thing is that he was acting different in my presence. For example this one time when he was listening to music and singing in a tent, he stopped immediately after I joined him and few other cast members. His face expression made me feel sorry for interrupting their fun time however was it my fault that I was just being curious about what was going on in there? Oh, ok. I’m a bit nosy but IT WAS OUR TENT and I had a full right to go in there.

The second time I felt bad was the Halloween day. Emma and I were simply preparing our costumes in our “freak day room” when Percy came. He just leaned on the doorframe with his arms crossed on his chest and was looking at what the both of us were doing. Then, he chuckled and raised his eyebrows.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Well, don’t get me wrong but wouldn’t it be just enough if you would have gone to the festival right after waking up? You know, all sleepy and messy.” He said with his characteristic grin. What was that supposed to mean?

“I was thinking about that actually.” I replied a bit upset forcing a small smile. Yeah.. He basically thought I was ugly. I can’t say I wasn’t though. At the age of 23 I had a lot of insecurities which may seem to be odd for many people.

“What are you planning to wear, Percy?” Emma asked.

“A beautiful smile and my fave hat. Enough to make all ladies gasp.” He chuckled and then left.

“He’s unbearable.”

That definitely was true. The way he laughed at me made me go insane every time. When I couldn’t hold the arrow properly, there he was, laughing his arse off. Same after all my bloopers. We also had a pretty heated argument scene one day and he couldn’t hold his laughter. I didn’t know what was going on. Was I truly this bad at acting? Not even mentioning the way he used to mock my accent and made me feel sorry that it was more British than American. Well, it’s not my fault! Polish schools ONLY teach British vocabulary and accent. It’s more familiar to all of us and additionally I used to grow up only having British or Irish idols. Who doesn’t remember One Direction for example? I was a number one fan and honestly I wouldn’t make it with my English without them. Before I met Percy I thought that the way I spoke didn’t matter but it clearly did. I truly started to have enough.

I can’t not mention the fact of being a Potterhead which was for some reason too funny for him. He used to walk around pointing at me with his fingers and go with “expelliarmus” or “abra cadabra” which wasn’t even a Harry Potter spell (and he knew that but wanted to see me explaining it to him and getting embarrassed). At this point I was truly frustrated.

“I’m so glad I have a bit more free time today. I was thinking about visiting the nearby shopping centre. What about you, Joy?” I said while eating lunch. That was the first day after a month of shooting when I was needless on the set. The most of my scenes have been recorded already and now it was only Jenna and her serie family time.

“I was there loads of times and I never get bored of going there. I will for sure keep you a company. I need to buy some stuff especially after Georgie ate almost all of my candy!” She laughed with pure happiness on her beautiful face.

“What are we doing today ladies?” Percy asked, putting his hands on Joy’s shoulders.

“We plan on escaping and doing some illegal stuff. Wanna join?” She replied with a smirk knowing just well that he definitely would accompany us if it really meant something illegal. He was overly confident and usually into rebelling.

“Does it mean few hours of shopping in cosmetic stuff which I ain’t understand? Then thanks.”

“We’re definitely planning on robbing a jewellery shop.” I said winking at him.

“Would be such a reward to have some new shiny necklaces, wouldn’t it? I bet it could ease your embarrassment after yesterdays fails on set. I really think you’re shitty sometimes.” He chuckled and made my heart shatter.

“Yeah. You’re right. So what about leaving soon, Joy? I think I’ll go to take my phone and car keys now.” I added not looking at him.

“I need to take a shower before we leave. Give me at least an hour, is that fine?” She asked smiling friendly.

“Sure. Take your time.”

As I said I went to my room and just sat there, looking at the wall. I’m shitty. That’s what he thought. How cool is that?

But no. It wasn’t what made me sob. Just not yet. The real reason of my future tears was much worse.

About a week later, just few days before Christmas, we all decided to have a lovely, friendly free period after work without caring about the job, without rehearsing, basically it was supposed to be just a chill out. Eating, doing nothing, maybe dancing a little, you know just a normal evening with friends. I was heading straight to our day room when I heard something what broke my heart into millions of pieces.

“What about you and your screen lover, artist?��� Georgie laughed. Gossiping about me then. Fine. I just stood there behind the door to hear more and that was a mistake I wouldn’t make twice if I could turn back time.

“Y/N is… well, let’s say that I really couldn’t get more fantastic partner.” Percy scoffed, purest sarcasm in his voice. “I thought they’re going to hire a hot Latino chick for this role but then she came and I’m… huh. Can’t get over this. It’s a simple misunderstanding. You see, someone like her and someone like me. Not to mention that she’s one or two years above, isn’t she? Like a mama.”

“Oh yeah, I can totally agree, mate.” Olivier replied chuckling.

With that I didn’t even bother to listen to them anymore. I headed back to my room where I decided to call my bestie via FaceTime to let all of my negative emotions out. I sobbed hard for another half an hour and she was just there, looking at me and simply not talking. She was wonderful. She had no idea what happened but was waiting until my cries died, giving me some time before finally listening to the story and starting comforting me.

„Naprawdę nie wiem, co takiego mu zrobiłam.” („I literally have no clue what I’ve done to him to deserve it.”) I said, wiping the tears out of my face.

„Moje biedactwo. A przedstawiają go jako aniołka. Posłuchaj, siostra. Może i traktuje cię w taki a nie inny sposób, ale czemu to ma dla ciebie takie znaczenie?”

(„Poor little thing. Can’t believe he’s portrayed as such an angelic person. Listen to me, sis. He may be treating you like this but why does it actually matter to you?”) Y/F/N replied but just after that we heard my door being opened. I didn’t turn myself in the sound’s direction because I could clearly see in my phone screen who entered my room.

Percy himself.

But what the fuck did he want? I decided to stay unbothered and show no emotions at all. At last I didn’t want him to know that I was eavesdropping. Happily he does not know my mother language so it wasn’t too difficult to continue my conversation without his suspiciousness.

“Wiesz… Podłapałam małego crusha na tym dzieciaku. Nie wiem czemu. Zazwyczaj zachowuje się jakby się naćpał, ale jest dość uroczy i…”

(„You know… I might have fallen for him a bit. I know it’s ridiculous but he’s usually acting high like shit but he’s cute at the same time…”) I replied and saw a clear disbelief in my bestie’s face expression.

“On ci rujnuje samopoczucie z dnia na dzień coraz mocniej, a ty się w nim zakochujesz. Powinnaś się przebadać.”

(„Can’t believe it. He’s making your self confidence fall more and more everyday and you’re just casually falling in love. You should go and see the doctor real quick.”) She added visibly angry.

As we continued discussing this and that, I felt a movement on my bed. Percy sat cross legged behind me with a faint smile on his face which made me truly uncomfortable.

“Jak on w ogóle może tak o, wparować do twojego pokoju i gościć się w nim jak u siebie? Zwłaszcza po tym co powiedział.”

(„It’s so bold that he’s able just come to your room like nothing happened and simply feel like he’s being at his own place. Especially after what he said.”) Y/F/N said looking him straight in the eye. “Wydaje mi się, czy zaraz rzuci na mnie klątwę? Może Avada Kedavra?” (“Is he trying to hex me right now? Or maybe he’s planning on using Avada Kedavra?”)

„Możemy zmienić temat?”

(“May we stop talking about him?”) I asked with a forced smile.

But then I felt a very delicate tapping on my shoulder so I finally turned around to face Percy.

“You didn’t join us. Something’s wrong?

Yes, Percy. Yes. You happened.

“Powiedz mu co o nim myślisz i daj znać jak poszło.”

(“Tell him what you think about him and let me know how it went.”) My bestie added before ending the call.

“I don’t feel too well today so I just decided to stay here and spend some time alone.”

“Come on, sweet things, I know you’re lying.”

What did you call me?

“No idea what you’re talking about. I have a right to feel bad”.

“Something is clearly bothering you”.

How come that he was able to read my mind?

“Well maybe you wouldn’t need to worry about such a shitty thing if I was a hot Latino chick.” I retorted not daring to look him in the eyes. It took him off guard immediately.

“Wait, what?” He asked confused and then his face dropped. “Y/N, have you heard what I said down there in our day room?”

“Obviously. Look, I’m sorry that I got the role and you have to look at my Polish shitty face. I wish I looked different but I can’t. Also sorry for being shitty on set. And additionally I’m sorry for talking the way I do and I’m extremely sorry for liking what I like. I-“ I was cut.

“It’s a misunderstanding, sweet things. Let me explain, please.” He pleaded taking my hand into his and I just nodded. “I didn’t mean anything bad by saying all that stuff earlier. It might have sounded bad or so but I am very happy to have an honour of working with you. What I said about your acting was just a way to tease you. I like when you get flustered. I’m not laughing at the way you sound. I find it extremely attractive. I have a weakness for girls speaking languages and changing accents. Harry Potter is absolutely fine and I like it too. I mean, I like it a lot and even have a Dark Wand somewhere at my house. And what I said today… Sweet things, it was all positive. You see, I truly couldn’t get any better person to portray my lover. You’re just perfect doing your job. I also didn’t mean anything - I swear - anything bad talking about you and I feel like I wouldn’t be enough for you. So that’s why I told that someone like me couldn’t be with someone like you. You’re just much more mesmerising and too good to ever be mine. I’m so sorry about making you feel bad all this time.” He added with a pure sadness in his eyes.

This time I was taken aback.

“Wait, does it mean that-“

“I like you and truly wish we could start all over again. If you want of course. I get it if you don’t feel like being with someone younger.”

“You know that the age doesn’t really matter?”

“So is that a yes?”

“It doesn’t hurt to try though. But don’t you dare calling me “mama”. Like ever again.”

“Of course not. Never.”

Yeah, he was absolutely going to call me that. Seeing his little grin made me realise he’s not the one to trust at all.

To: Bestie 😈

Percy and I got together.

That might piss her off.

From: Bestie 😈

HAVE YOU GONE NUTS!

_____________________________________

A/N: I really am going to shit myself not knowing your opinion 🥲.

[mysteriawrites]

Hi! I was wondering if I could get a matchup please?

I'm an Aries, infp,9w8, which is an odd combination I think lol. I'm pretty short only 5'1, I get told I have a pretty athletic build like a volleyball player, but I play zero sports. I tend to get insecure of my looks cause I don't look my age at all, people always think I'm like four or so years younger than I actually am. I like dyeing my hair colors like hot pink, and lavender. I'm pretty introverted on the surface as I'm like hella scared of rejection, but once I get to know someone I'm very chatty and bubbly, I love reading, writing and listening to music (late 90s early 2000s pop rock/indie mostly). I'm the therapist friend but also the goblin friend. My love language is physical touch and words of affirmation, both giving and receiving, though with physical affection it tends to be a lot more of poking and playfully punching others (if they are fine with it ofc). I'm very sensitive, like painfully so, I get told a lot that I'm a "bleeding heart" and I tend to cry when people raise their voices at me which is very annoying.

Thank you! I hope you have a good day/night :)

Hello hello thank you for the request. DRUMROLL PLEASE!!!

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

HEX HAYWIRE!!!

You and Hex go pretty well together. You both seem quiet at first but are actually hiding a rather chaotic side and can even be slightly insecure. I think that because you two understand what the other is going through, it makes it easier to express your love and bring each other up.

You and Hex met when you were enrolled in Xsoleil. You had the power of healing and immortality which many would kill for, but no one was aware of how much of a curse it actually was.

You had lived for a very, very, very long time. You made friends and lost them to time, found love and lost love, you saw the world build and destroy for centuries without much you could do about it.

All the memories and feelings good and bad began to pile up in your head and darkened your heart. To the point where you thought it would be better to wonder the earth alone from now on.

Until you arrived at the institute that is. How you ended up there no one is entirely sure (author chan couldn’t come up with any ideas), but they decided it would be best if you had some counseling.

And that was how you met Hex Haywire. At first it started as a typical councilor and client type deal. You were forced by the school to come in once a week and talk to him and he would sit and listen intently.

Over time you would open up to him more and more as you slowly let down the walls you had been building for centuries.

One day after hours you had forgotten something in a classroom that you needed for your homework, so you went to go get it. As you went down the hall you passed by Hex’s office and heard sobbing.

You knew it was after hours, so he probably wasn’t with another student. You became worried that maybe he was hurt or in danger, so you knocked on his door. The door opened to reveal a very disheveled Hex who greeted you with a smile.

Now Hex has learned to become very good at hiding his emotions in order to be strong for others, but you somehow could feel that something was not right with him. So, you invited him to have tea and talk with you.

Ever since then you two became each other's support. He would help you whenever you two had counseling sessions, and you would help him take a load off after hours with midnight tea and chatting.

It took him awhile to open up to you for he didn't want to burden you, but eventually he learned to rely on you as well. Things were peaceful for a while. Until they weren't.

One day you walked into Hex's office to a very serious looking Hex. You asked him what was wrong, and after a moment of silence he told you that he could no longer be your counselor and that you guys should probably stop hanging out together too.

You asked him why and he was reluctant to answer. You felt betrayed and hurt. You had finally been brave enough to get your walls down with someone, and they don't want to be friends anymore.

You demanded to know why, and it became a heated argument. When the tension reached its peak, Hex revealed that the reason he couldn't keep seeing you anymore is because he had fallen in love with you.

It was unprofessional and a conflict of interest for a counselor to have romantic feelings for his client. However, his feelings for you grew, and it ate him up inside to be able to be with you so he figured it would better to stop seeing each other all together.

As he confessed his feelings, you began to feel guilty for pushing him but also a different feeling. You realized that you as well could not bear the thought of losing Hex. You too were in love with him.

After a long and emotional talk, you and Hex confessed your feelings. You decided to take things slow for now, but sure enough you two became a very serious couple.

You two would mainly spend your days cuddling and watching a movie, listening to music together, or showering each other with compliments. You two can also be a bit teasing sometimes (he especially likes to tease you about the height difference between you two), but you guys know not to take it too far.

You are each other's support system and wouldn't have it any other way.

RUNNERS UP: Ike Eveland

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

Hi, probably weird question, but can you offer any tips on how to co-write, like two different authors working on the same fic? How does that work?

hello there is actually nothing i would rather do let me give you the unabridged version because I think people romanticise it and it's important to be real. I'm going to give you all of my experiences and why I did it and which ones worked and which ones didn't.

HERE IT IS :

2-Let's start with @greenvlvetcouch who was my first duo writing experience. I was heavily part of an online thing at the time and I met him there, and we somehow (I genuinely can't remember how but I think it was me) ended up DMing about something, which actually pretty quickly evolved into me throwing a concept idea into the chat, and it just took off. We ended up losing our minds over the library scene from God Eater and that was that. I had read Zar and Jude's fic where every 15 min they switched (I think??) and I'm not a "minute" writer so I suggested to Green we did 700-1200 words each and pass it back. I also have a background in theatre, and I am part of a improv group in my city so improv games was part of my curriculum and I've always LOVED IMPROV GAMES, especially in small groups. (this is relevant for later). That's how God Eater was written. it happened very organically. We wrote it all in four months, in a doc, and didn't talk about publishing it until we realized that actually it was going to be a thing we were super proud of, that we would want to post it. The writing experience itself had none of the stress of "what if it's bad". We just wrote until we were done with no expectation. There were a lot of inconsistencies we fixed when we were done and TA-DA.

Since then Green has been a writing partner for a lot of published and unpublished works. We have several projects, some which we started and never finished because we lost the interest, some that we might publish, we don't know. I think he and I are aligned on the fact that writing is meant to be this fun thing and if the joy isn't there when writing, then the project dies. We had a LOT of really cool fun projects that only lived inside our mutual DMs and I think it still makes them real and great. They just weren't tangible enough to see the light of day. Green and I's writing process isn't *super* involved. We rarely fangirl over each other's works. I think we've reached a healthy balance of we *know* we love each other's writing, so we don't need to tell each other that. We will when a line slaps particularly well but other than that we mostly just hype the story up which is our way of saying we love working together.

Which is a perfect segway into inthesquare and I's writing process (hi I still don't know if I can tag you so imma send it to you after).

2-I'm currently writing a story with her, and our start was very different. I read this fic from hers and lost my mind. I cried and was very upset, it was such a great story, so I left a comment (as one does). What would you know, a few days later I get a comment on my fic about how she freaked out because she liked *my* work. So we literally met the most organically way possible: through ao3 comments. Then the normal pipeline happened: Tumblr, then Discord, then Whatsapp.

I wrote one fic that felt very much like something she would do and asked her to participate and add bits and bobs, she said yes, I was overjoyed. And then a few months ago I popped in and was like... *you like myths, right?* and TADA we have the amaranth hymns.

The writing process with us is very different. We each write until we're done with a scene (which usually ends up capping at 1500/2000 words-ish). We are posting as we go, we have 0 plan, zero foresight, we're just hoping for the best, rocking with a Pinterest board and voice noting each other at 3am going "hey do what was this thing you wrote and what does it mean?" "oh cool" "and so does this mean that X? Cuz we need to Y then" "Yes, right". We're problem solving as we go, and I think we're both kind of unbothered and unstressed about it: the story will write itself, we're just along for the ride. We also don't really hype each other up (a little ya know, when a line slaps), but we *do* talk about the fic itself a lot, which I think is our way of showing our engagement. We talk about the fic because we like writing it (I have a point to make later on bear with me).

3- You remember how i LOVE improve games, right????? WELL. There is a game called the "yes" game. A scene starts, you have a theme and a concept and you can't backtrack. Whatever the person throws your way you have to work with it....hence the "yes". You can only move forward, never back. That's how Raise Hell was created. I asked a bunch of my friends if they wanted to create a frankenstein fic, some said yes, some said no, and Raise Hell got started. I knew all of these people beforehand, so that made it easier. We still want to finish this fic but ya know, life got away from us.

What ended up happening is that there were no "writing" rule aside from : you must write enough to propel the next person. Give the next person *something* to work with. So what accidentally ended up happening is each person ended up writing a chapter.

Now let's talk about the rest:

As stated before, I love writing with people: I have the bandwith to work on numerous fics at once (it keeps my brain fed and entertained, I like the community of it), I like it, and thus I seek it.

But I think (and THIS is my point) that people romanticise it and it can stress people out. This is what I mean:

I started writing fics with several other writers because *I like it and I seek it and it brings me joy*, but some writers didn't like feeling like they were one in a lineup.

I wrote 30k with a writer and then the story died and we never picked it back up.

I have had two people I was writing with tell me they didn't like it because I wasn't 'involved' enough (by this I think what they meant was that I wasn't showing enough hype and enthusiasm for their writing).

I had one person tell me that our writing didn't match up and it felt weird and they didn't want to continue.

I have had one person tell me I hurt their feelings because I made them feel like their writing wasn't good enough by the way I edited.

I think it's important to mention that co-writing *is* a skill and it's not something that will work for everyone.

I have a graveyard of fics and a few friendships that died because of that, too. I'm not a big hyper. I do edit a lot. I show my enthusiasm in ways that perhaps isn't obvious enough. I don't praise other people's writing that much because in my mind, the fact we're writing together is proof enough that I love their writing, but that actually isn't always enough.

And I think the difficult part of all of this is that writing is a very personal endeavour. When you expose your guts to another person and they do not react the way you want them to, it's not very easy I think to say "Hey, you hurt my feelings because you didn't tell me you loved this and that". That's another layer exposed and because talking about hurt feelings is hard and uncomfortable, sometimes it will drag on and take proportions that lead to broken friendships.

So you do have to be careful.

...But I also don't know how, in the sense that *before* you start writing with someone, you won't *know* how they will react to the duo process.

What I'm saying is it' a gamble and actually I have lost more than I have won, BUT I still don't regret trying. I personally have had good experiences every single time. I have grown and I have learned.

I know for instance that writing with Green and Inthesquare is a great experience because we approach writing in the same way and we are all very confident in our own writing. We like how we write. We like how the other person writes. We know that, we don't feel the need to say it.

But I think I tend to forget that some writers (even really good ones!!) can feel self-conscious about their own writing and need more praise than what I give.

So bearing all that in mind here is my advice:

-Talk about what you need from the experience BEFOREHAND. How much hype, can I edit, how much editing can I do, etc etc. When green and I edit our works, we fully destroy each other's parts. We will go in and add and remove a LOT, to the point where it really becomes kind of undetectable, who wrote what, because we're in each other's lines everywhere. This isn't something that will feel good for everyone. When I write with inthesquare, we *barely* edit each other's work. The separation is much more obvious, and I don't really know why this is? It just is? We just kind of never edited the other person's part. And it works really beautifully, too. My point is these are two very different approach yet there isn't one better than the other, it's just different.

Some people do not like when you tinker with their writing too much. Some people do not like when you tinker with their writing at all. Make sure you know what each person is comfy with.

-Decide on a plan: are we writing each for a set amount of time? Of words? Are we each doing a chapter? The only rule is the one you make up.

-Don't put pressure on the work. See where it goes. If it dies, let it.

-I would advise against posting as you go if this stresses you out. That way if the story doesn't finish, no stress.

-Start with someone who you feel very confident writing with. Someone you know, who knows you, where the communication canals are OPEN. You're gonna need to be able to tell each other if someone does something that wasn't appreciated.

Not all co-writing will end up with a fully fledged fic. Not all co-writing will end up being a good experience. If the person you really want to write with doesn't want to write with you, don't take it personally. It just do be like that.

But I'm the kind of person who really has come to love it, and while I'm a lot more picky now with who I write (because I'd love to like, not lose more friends), I think I will always seek it out, especially with the people with whom it's been a success before. I love, love, loveeeeee writing with my friends. I find it so rewarding and fun and great and I have nothing bad to say about it. I just really, really love it.

And if you've made it till here just know I have ONE fic I wrote with 2 other writers that we published under anon. and it's just out there. Doing its thing.

[acatalystrising]

I have a thought that i would like to share for the au of boba and bounty hunter reader. So rn i have a playlist on my spotify called, “Boba fett passed me the AUX” and it’s composed of early 2000s-2010s songs. And i’d like to think that when reader is the one flying Slave 1, she likes to put her playlist loud enough to only hear the muffled songs where boba sleeps. And if like to think that Boba would be bothered by the readers choice of music but as time goes by, he doesn’t mind it anymore 💕

Hello dear friend!

First of all, I am SO sorry it’s taken me so long to answer this! Life has been nuts lately, but as I’ve been getting back into the swing of writing all the Boba goodness, I just had to answer this. Boba is VERY protective of his ship, so there would have to be SO much trust involved! So without further ado, here’s my take on this prompt - enjoy! 💚🖤

Rated EX for mature themes, mentions of past sex, dirty talk, and light f!receiving nsfw. Minors DNI, thank you!

Damn it all. Why is she making so much noise?

Boba Fett groaned, shifting in his bed as he slowly came to. It was still early morning, and maker, he was so tired. He’d barely slept, a series of jobs having been so demanding he’d been forced to skip rest for weeks.

Granted, he’d done it before, could do it again.

He was used to the rough life of a hunter. Knew the sacrifices that had to be made. Was all too familiar with the strain it left both mentally and physically. But what he wasn’t accustomed to was the muffled sound of kriffing music blasting from the cockpit of the Slave 1.

He wearily sat up, bare chested and dressed in just his sleeping pants, back aching in protest, and made another mental note to stretch later. Maker, he felt old despite his years, but a life of bounty hunting would do that to anyone. Anyone…except you, apparently. He squinted, lips curving in a small frown. He could just barely make out a voice over the music, and his frown deepened. You were singing? That was new.

He stood, irritation flooding his chest, wanting nothing more than to slip back under the covers and sleep. He’d never been lazy or quick to rest, but just once, this once, he wanted to. And now, you were keeping him awake. And not in the ways he normally liked.

Maker, stop me from killing her.

He slipped across his compact quarters and paused at the door of the cockpit, peering inside with narrowed eyes. At the sight of you, his premeditated harsh words died on his tongue.

You were sitting in his pilot’s chair, bare legs swung over the side, dressed in nothing but your shirt and underwear. And you were positively beautiful.

Your eyes were closed as you shamelessly sang along to the song blasting overhead, untied hair cascading down your shoulders like a waterfall. There was something so…carefree about you, a proficient bounty hunter in your own right, sprawling in his chair listening to…whatever this nonsense was. It was too upbeat, too cheerful for his tastes, but you…you seemed so happy in that moment. And that alone made him take a mental note of your smile. It made him want to see you smile like that at him.

He was so busy studying you that he didn’t blink when you turned, flinching when you saw him standing there. You yelped, fumbling at the controls, shutting off the music even as apologies rolled off your tongue.

“Oh gods, I woke you didn’t I? I’m so sorry.” You practically leapt from his chair, awkwardly tugging your shirt down as of to hide your underwear, a furious blush creeping over your cheeks. “I’ll go…check on the bounties so you get back to resting.”

You moved quickly, almost succeeding in bolting past him, but he was faster, gently grabbing your arm and pulling your back against his chest, holding you close. He leaned down, pressing his face against your cheek, lips a mere inch from the shell of your ear.

“Hope you’re not gonna check on them looking like that.” He kept his voice low, tone carrying just enough teasing weight to elicit a delicious shiver from you. He couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t wanna be woken up like that again. But…this almost makes up for it.”

“I said I was sorry. I just got bored, and I love that song…” you shrugged almost sheepishly against him, but he didn’t let go. “I didn’t think it was that loud.”

“Can’t say I liked it, princess. But,” he lifted a hand to your cheek, lightly caressing your jawline. He felt you practically quivering against him, but he knew you well enough by now to know it wasn’t because of fear. “Sure enjoyed the show.”

You were silent for a moment, save for a soft squeak that emitted from you throat when he pressed a kiss to your jawline.

“Pretty voice, too. But then again, I know all about those little noses you can make,” he drug his lips from your jawline to your neck, and you tilted your head with an audible sigh, allowing him further access. “Don’t I?”

You swallowed, nodding, leaning against him, shamelessly seeking comfort against his warm skin.

“Use your words,” he smirked against your skin. “Might give you what you want.”

He heard it, the soft moan you tried so hard to muffle as you pressed your thighs together. He held you closer, pressed flush to his chest, and could feel your pounding heartbeat thrumming wildly at his touch.

“Yes…you do,” your voice was soft, breathy. Gorgeous. “You…you’re not mad?”

“I’m furious,” he kept his tone low, dark. Full of unbridled lust. “Probably should punish you.”

You were already shaking your head, trying to turn to face him, but he didn’t let you go…not yet.

“I really am sorry, I wasn’t trying to wake you!” You clearly were trying to gauge exactly how upset he was, and he frowned, noting that there was a distinct chance you truly were unsure. “I won’t do it again, I promise. I-”

“Easy there,” he softened his voice ever so slightly, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to your stomach. “Not gonna hurt you. You know that.”

You slowly nodded, the tension easing from your shoulders, and he smirked, knowing you couldn’t yet see. Relishing in the fact that he affected you so greatly.

“Really think you’d get away with dressing like this? Someone’s gotten bold…” he kissed your neck again, dropping his hand lower, toward your abdomen. “As if you were asking for me to see.”

“I just…” your words broke off when his fingertips stopped at the hem of your shirt, dangerously close to your underwear. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He hummed, and you shivered, pressing yourself against him with a needy whimper. Gods, the things you did to him.

“Bet you’re already soaking, mesh’la,” he pointedly swiped a finger at the bare skin beneath your shirt. “Wanna feel good, hmm? Wanna feel my fingers in that pussy?”

“Oh gods…” you leaned your head back against him with another whine. “Please, Boba.”

It was the tone of your voice, needy and desperate, hearing his name spoken on your plush lips that did him in. Breaking any semblance of patience he had. His fingers slipped underneath your underwear and into your slick heat, eliciting another breathy moan as you pressed against him.

Perhaps the music wasn’t so bad, after all.

Perhaps the music wasn’t so bad, after all.

Perhaps the music wasn’t so bad, after all.

It was your breathy, pleading tone, his name rushing off your plush lips that snapped his resolve. He slipped his fingers underneath your underwear and into your slick heat, groaning when you writhed against him, another whimpering moan rolling off your tongue.

Perhaps the music wasn’t so bad, after all.

Perhaps the music wasn’t so terrible, after all.

“Mhm,” you nodded so rapidly he had to pull his face away for a moment, before closing the distance again to press a kiss to the base of your neck. “Please Boba.”

It was that, then, hearing his name whispered so pleasingly from your plush, wanting lips, that made his resolve snap. He slipped his fingers underneath your underwear and into your slick heat, groaning when you writhed under his touch, already melting against him.

Perhaps the music wasn’t so bad, after all.

[winderlylandchime]

I was watching 1x22 as one does when they want to feel all the feelings and it made me think about some stuff. And now I need second opinions because I am going a bit insane. I had this thought after watching Brian absolutely lose it which is: how would it go if Justin didn’t get bashed? I mean it’s no secret that they shared something beautiful on that dance floor and they both knew that and then in the garage as well. Even Brian knew that no matter how he’d deny it. So I keep thinking what would’ve season 2 looked like if the bashing didn’t happen, how would Britin be and more importantly what would Brian be like? Because obviously the bashing was a big reason why we got the s2 we did and that included Brian finally coming to somewhat terms that he loves Justin. But I can’t stop wondering what would’ve happened otherwise. And this message might’ve been triggered a little bit by the thought that Justin never remembered their dance :(

Hello dear sweet anon!

"watching 1x22 as one does when they want to feel all the feelings" Truthier words have never been typed.

I think this is a fantastic question and I think it truly should be a fic (THAT SOMEONE ELSE WRITES MY LIST OF IDEAS IS TOO LONG) because I cannot do it justice in a response here on tumblr dot com.

I will try, of course.

I think a few things are true:

Brian lost out on his dream to move to NYC and big the next big new thing to someone younger than he is. (Me in my 40s thinking about someone who has just turned 30 losing out on a role that benefits from having experience to someone even younger is rolling my eyes, but sure QAF, we'll believe it.) So he's stuck in Pittsburgh.

Michael, his best friend and doting admirer has gotten his own life and is moving across the country. Yes, his relationship with David was toxic AF but that's neither here nor there. This is also set in 2000 when staying in touch meant email that you checked maybe once a day and phone calls. Michael, for all the fandom feelings about him, sees Brian in one particular way, a way that has not changed since they were 18. Michael is not the only culprit of this (HELLO LINDSAY WHAT'S UP?) but he is the major one, the one that Brian cares about the most.

Justin, this kid who has wormed his way into Brian's life and who sees, really sees, Brian for who he is and challenges him and is his equal in many ways, wants him.

So Brian, probably against his better judgment goes to this kid's prom, dances him around the dance floor and kisses him in front of everyone. Then they have this moment in the garage (that pause and eye contact before they kiss happily lives rent free in my mind). And it means something. Mr. Brian "acts of service and physical touch" Kinney is communicating something very loudly and clearly here. And pre-disabled Justin sees it and understands it. And if we know anything about Justin, he will not let it go. Ever.

I think without the bashing, Justin would have continued to live at Debbie's. I think he would have gone to PIFA and Brian would have paid for his tuition when Craig Craig'd it all up. I think there would have been less push back about accepting Brian's help because that would be the only help Justin would have needed (instead of: overcoming PTSD, living together, giving him the computer, etc.). I think they would have slowly started to date in a more traditional sense. Nothing dramatic but meeting up for lunch if Justin didn't have afternoon classes, getting dinner together before meeting the guys at Woody's. Michael being in Portland AND the bashing not happening would have allowed this to slowly evolve.

Would Justin still need some assurance that he was different than the tricks? Maybe, but I think he would have felt more confident in himself without the bashing and its after effects.

Would they still have had miscommunication and broken up? I do think so. I think from a psychological and also story-telling perspective, you don't want the 17 year old kid to meet the love of his life and never experience anything different. You want some leaving each other and coming back together (am I still soothing my GOS2 broken heart? Yes, yes I am). I think Justin experiencing monogamy and deciding it's not for him (the way S3 SHOULD HAVE GONE) would have been a great storyline. I think even Michael returning (after some relationship between Brian and Justin has been established) and putting some doubt in the form of "but this isn't who you are" into Brian's mind would also be a great storyline. Some Justin pushing back against Michael and telling Brian "he wasn't there, I was, I know who you are and what you did and what it meant." Oh my god I would love to see that.

I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to read this if someone wants to write it. Or many someones. More cake and all that. I don't see myself writing it because I love the bashing arc too much

[13eyond13]

Hello, do you mind if I ask that "bookish ask"? For no. 15, 34, and 50. Thanks if you want to answer.....

Hello! Sure, thank you for asking :)

15. What book changed your life?

This was a hard question!

I know I've mentioned this book already several times but in complete honesty I think Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice did geniunely change my life a bit whenever I first read it at 15 or 16. I was raised in a strict Christian home and sent to a tiny Christian school in a small town, and had all my media and activities and the people I was allowed to interact with and the stuff I did very closely monitored so that it was basically always Christian and rarely ever adult in content or themes or anything for most of my childhood and my early teens. So originally when I bought this book at the bookstore at age 15 and my mom found out about it I had to return it to the bookstore immediately, because she saw that it was about vampires and she thought it sounded bad. Normally I was pretty obedient and I hated to do anything against my parents' wishes, but by then I had already started reading it and was already pretty hooked on knowing what was going to happen next. So I sneaked around behind my mom's back to secretly buy it again, and then pulled a Light Yagami by gutting one of the wholesome children's books on my shelf to hide this forbidden book inside (this was before I ever watched Death Note, but whenever I saw Light using the same bookshelf trick to hide his magazines I was like HAHAHA omg no way). So reading this book and then several more of them in the series after that kinda marked the first time I ever really explicitly disobeyed the authority figures around me in order to read something considered off-limits or more "adult," and kinda made me realize that I felt like I was missing out on a whole gigantic part of life by only ever being restricted to that tiny little bubble of stuff I'd been exposed to thus far. Everything that the book touched on just resonated extremely strongly with me at the time, in large part probably due to my religious guilt and my questioning of these things (because oooh boy is it obvious that Anne Rice is a lapsed Catholic in her writing a lot of the time). But also I think the melodrama of the story matched with my teenage angst so well, and I definitely was vibing strongly with just how queer so much of the series feels as well (I didn't realize yet that I was gay, but I was starting to question things like that about myself a bit by then I think. It was very rare that I was ever exposed to anything not completely heteronormative back then due to it being the 2000s and due to being in a homophobic religious bubble my whole life, so this really was one of the very first times I was). I feel like reading this book really marked the beginning of me opening my mind up from the stuff that I'd just been raised to believe and acted like a nice gateway for me between that and exploring lots of other interesting things that had previously been off-limits to me before that as well.

34. List 5 OTPs: I don't think I actually have five OTPs! The only one I really truly have ever been long-term passionate about enough to call it something like an otp is Lawlight. I could name you a few other ships that I definitely find pretty compelling and angsty for me to think about as well right now though, like Nana and Hachi from the Nana manga series and Griffguts from Berserk

50. Why do you love to read?

Hmm! At this point I might say just that I'm kind of obsessed with stories and the art of storytelling in general. And I think what I love so much about books in particular is just how intimate they can feel and how deep into a character's head or specific point of view or a different world or time period or whatever you can get with them. It's a bit different than something like watching a show or a movie to really get to know a character or experience a story directly just through the words on the page. I like how much you can just make it all up for yourself (which is to me why it often feels really odd to see a book I loved turned into a movie or show that doesn't match what I pictured in my imagination). I was lucky enough to grow up reading and being read to by my parents quite a bit, so it feels homey and nostalgic to me to sit down with a good book too. And I feel like as an adult it's just one of the better hobbies I've ever had in terms of expanding my mind and challenging me and teaching me a lot about all the things that interest me the most.

[bookish asks]

[thelonesomequeen]

Hello! I listened to this garbage so you don’t have to! —Part 2 (April 6, 2023)

I typed up a transcription from the podcast that I will post below. I typed quickly, so please excuse any typos I might not have caught. Don’t drag me for the grammar. That’s all DM talking. I just typed it out the way she said it. For those of you wanting to hear it for yourself, she starts at 52:30.

————————————————————

DM: Well. I did a little poll on Instagram. Because I posted that Chris Evans is Boston’s hometown hero. And I did a little pill for the Bostonians. I said Who is your hometown hero? Ben Affleck or Matt Damon, I grouped them together, Chris Evans, Mark Wahlberg, or Hilaria Baldwin who I just threw in for good measure. And Matt Damon and Ben Affleck won the poll by a landslide and I just need to clarify for my Boston followers, I didn’t realize that Chris Evans didn’t grow up exactly in Boston, he grew up in Sudbury which

Lex: Yeah, Like a suburb.

DM: Which is like right outside of Boston, so I had someone write in and say “grew up in Lincoln Sudbury, was about 8 years behind Chris, but fully agree with this.” so the Sudbury people, and I hope I’m saying that right, they do think that Chris is Boston’s hometown hero.

Lex: Right.

DM: This person says “Lincoln Sudbury” I’m assuming that’s the school “was obsessed with Chris and our whole theatre department was like a shrine to him. He’d come home frequently to visit his family in the early 2000s and we’d see him at the local Natick mall. Him and his family are super suburb-normie. Like I think his dad coached youth soccer when we were all younger. He’s for sure a Sudbury hero, but not Boston. Just a star that loves Boston and Massachusetts." so I felt like I needed to make that distinction because I didn't realize that before I claimed Chris Evans as the...

Lex: I love this distinction. You know, any chance to talk about Chris Evans is a chance I'll take.

DM: Bost (laughs, cuts off word). Wait, I was just going to say! Aren't you, don't you love Chris Evans? Do you still love him so so much?

Lex: I mean, I do but it's so hard because I'm not getting enough content. That's why I posted, you posted those like high school or elementary school, his like bowl cuts year book photos and I was like "I needed this today!" I feel like we never see him anymore because he's got his girlfriend! But we're gonna get some press soon, right? Because he's got that movie coming out on Apple with Ana de Armas again.

DM: Yes. And he's in New York right now with Alba.

Lex: I mean, yeah, like in my, I don't know what the rumor is circulating or blah blah blah, but like, I just feel like they've been engaged since last year. He would not do the People magazine, come out about his love life, again, you wanna talk PR game. That is all strategic to keep the crazies at an arms length...

DM: You think so?!

Lex: satisfy the beast, but still maintain his privacy. Yes! Yes, yes ,yes!

DM: So you think that their relationship is PR?

Lex: Oh no! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I think their relationship is real.

DM: Got you. Got you.

Lex: I think he gave...he's normally very private, but he like gave the PR the big, uh, People's Sexiest Man Alive and blah blah blah to then double down and then drop his relationship so that it's like, you know, he's given, he's giving us, he's breadcrumbing us a little bit and then he can still have his life.

DM: You know, I had heard People magazine was pissed about that. Because he didn't disclose to them..."

Lex: Stop, that he was in the relationship?

DM: When he was....yes. Yes.

Lex: Oh my God.

DM: Mhmm. And he did the photoshoot, did the article, was in the magazine, was in the article, and then was like SURPRISE! I'm in this relationship and they were kinda like...why didn't you just tell us? Like you were just on this huge cover and...

Lex: Talking about what you look for in a relationship...

DM: Yes!

Lex:...and like, what you want in a relationship.

DM: Yes, yes. They were like what the f-ck, but whatever. I mean, you know, happy for him. He seems really happy. I'm still...

Lex: So happy.

DM: in the...

Lex: I'm devastated.

DM: I'm still in the camp that if they do get engaged, or if they are currently engaged, I would not be surprised. I'm still in the camp.

Lex: Same. A thousand percent, I agree.

--and then they move on to the next topic.

[trashworldblog]

(writing that was exhausting...)

i can imagine! you did good work though!

now, sit back, relax, and let me tell you a story from my travels.

it started when i was a girl. young, but not too young to forget. The year before this started, i had gone to Disney world with my family. Dressed as Cinderella in the swealtering heat, looking up at the tower of terror. shaking in my sneakers, hearing the screams, and thinking wearily of the elevator back in our hotel. Could an elevator really fall like that? I didnt have the words (or the guts) to ask. But that trip is a story for another time.

I'm in Pennsylvania with my family. It's a cool summer night, and our minivan had just arrived at our hotel late at night. I pack away my summer learning activity packet and grab my stuffed animals, ready to head up to the room. I was a pro at checking in at this point. I ran with my dad to get the trolly for our bags and helped pack our stuff onto it (helped as much as a little tike can, I was a twiggy little thing, still am [/pos. i love my body]) We catch up with mom and start to head up to the room. We made it just in time. It just started pouring outside, painting the pavement with headlights and stoplights. It was an inky, blurry, watercolor painting.

My brother and I chase to the elevator, hoping we can be the one to press the up button. The button lights up under his fingers. I hope i can press the floor number when we get inside. The bag trolly rolls awkwardly into the elevator, the wheels refusuing to turn, as they usually do ontop of hotel carpeting. I light up when I press the 4 button. The elevator pushes to life, lifting us up to our room. I dream of the plush matress waiting for me, the waffles in the continental breakfast, the pool that filled the lobby with the chlorinated smell that only public pools have.

My eyes snap open as the elevator shudders to a hault. Way too early for the 4th floor. The gears start turning in my head as I try to figure out what is happening.

My dad is pressing the call button, hoping for a response. Nothing happens. He presses the alarm button. Nothing happens. His face scrunches a bit in thought. Luckily, it was the 2000s. He pulls out his Blackberry (yes, obviously, its the 2000s). He checks with mom about the number for the hotel, and calls.

"Hello? Yes. Hi, we just checked in and we're in the elevator"

"No, we're in the elevator. It's the [insert name here lol]. No we Just checked in. Yeah, No. This isnt a prank or something. Did the power go out? Yeah. We're in the elevator. Can you call the fire department or something?"

My heart SINKS. Fire department? no power? so the elevator is... stuck? My heart quickens hearing the screams from disneyworld. when will the elevator drop? what will happen?

tears stream down my face. as i gasp for breath.

I cant remember a time in my life where i felt so much panic. I felt the impending doom as the lights above me flickered, likely powered by an emergency generator. Maybe I was scared when we did those speed multiplication tables, or when i presented to the class, but i never felt this level of dread. Impending doom.

my parents dont know whats happening in my mind. They likely didnt know about my anxiety. So they laugh it off an shrug. "Whelp! whatcha gonna do!" and make a joke about The Griswolds Vacation (a joke we constantly make when something goes wrong on road trips). I'm glad to say ive recently been able to adopt this mentality. I can laugh off bad luck and tricky situations. At the time? did not appreciate that. I was already in panic, unable to vocalize why i was so concerned.

After what felt like a melinum to a child (and a very bad photo of us stuck in the elevator) the doors start opening revealing the third floor at the top third of the door, and the second floor at the bottom half of the door. They explained that since we were in between floors they would have to go down and manually lower the elevator to the first floor, so that we could get our stuff out as well. They close the doors so we dont fall out while the lower it, and we wait for the elevator to start moving.

Its pretty jittery and very slow. I'm anticipating a drop, and every jolt sends shockwaves through my heart and gut. I gasp at some of the more sudden movements, but I had calmed down some. I was still upset in the only way a kid can be. frustrated, but confused as to why, just knowing with every fiber of my being that i did not like what was happening.

After a little while the floor of the elevator hits something solid, and we stop moving. I take a sigh of relif. The door opens a few moment later, and theres about 10 firefighers in all their gear smiling at us, and giving my brother and i high fives. i crack a smile, though the tears still stain my face. The front desk offers for us to take the stairs, and we decline. We check out, and my mom takes us back to the car. My dad works out a refund while i get situated in my carseat. I think of pulling out my workbook, but its far too dark out. I settle for watching raindrops drip down the window, and place bets for which raindrop is gonna win. I feel stress begin to melt out of my tiny body, and i relax back into my seat. I look over to my brother and he's messing with something in his hands, but i cant figure out what, its getting too dark for me to see. I think of the hotel bed that i could have been snuggled in right about now, if not for the lighting strike that took out a powerline.

My parents talk up front, figuring out a gameplan for where we're going to stay tonight. A constant loop of "Hi! do you have any rooms available? Do you have power? no?" *click* "Hi! do you have any rooms available? no?" *click* I remember my eyes getting heavy, the rain on the roof of the car calling me to sleep. Its a nice change from the inside of an elevator. I remember a talk about the cost of staying at the hershey hotel, and they agree to check the other hotels in the area before they try that one. I grab a plushie, anf squeeze it tight as my eyes droop closed. A deep breath pushes me back into my seat, and I dont remember anything past that.